Moonstrike 3 : The Mind Thing

"I really do recommend officially on boarding."

Ji Min was worthy of being described as 'heroic' for not snatching her badge and stalking off at that point.

'Would they give it a rest? Why say we can be anonymous if they're going to badger at every opportunity?'

Ms. Reeds went on, "Not only would you draw a salary as an employee, rather than a contractor, but you'd have access to top quality medical care at facilities across the country."

Withholding medical care as a work benefit was such an American bit of fuckery that it deserved a chef’s kiss.

"Thank you for your diligence in ensuring I understand my options." Ji Min reached her hand out expectantly. She didn’t have to fake a smile since her mouth was covered.

The other woman's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked hard at Ji Min, disapproval at the mask evident. "Let us know if you change your mind," she said, and finally forfeited the badge.

She took a quick look to verify that the information was right- Moonstrike, trainee, a photo of her in her mask– and slid it into her jacket's inner pocket.

It wasn't exactly a busy facility. Despite being fairly new for a government building, she only passed a few people. They were all obviously officer workers. They were too disciplined to stare at her, bustling past in suits and skirts and cardigans.

She had turned down the offer of a guided tour, but the room that she needed wasn't hard to find. Alejandro was waiting outside of it with a poker face.

"Moonstrike," he said, and opened the door.

"Alejandro," she said back, and went in. Now that she'd finally finished the paperwork, she expected training to start.

It was actually time for more paperwork. She left a lot of it blank, because she wasn't providing emergency contacts, an address, etc. Just her alias and her burner phone number.

There was still a lot to go through. She agreed to more terms and conditions, and she selected what she wanted the government to do for her.

Training was free, which included boarding and equipment. She wasn't going to get a salary, but she'd get paid for tasks that they asked her to do, as well as a bonus for involving herself in local crime if she saw it. She’d already reported what she’d done out of state, since they were probably going to find out from Amberland anyway.

"You could check in today, instead of coming back Monday," Alejandro suggested casually, as if he wasn’t really invested in getting her in asap for some reason.

Yeah, but that wouldn't be fair to Ari.

"Thanks for making sure that I know." Ji Min wrote down Monday for her intake start date. She frowned at the next section. "I don't know about weaponry and other tech."

"You can decide that mid training," Alejandro reassured. "Once you have more of a handle on your talents and inclinations."

She eyed him sideways. Judging by the materials they'd given her, they probably wanted to get her metal knuckles for punching down buildings or something. They didn't seem to expect much from her.

Granted, she hadn’t exactly been bringing finesse to the table with the hitting stick. What was she supposed to do? She didn’t have a relevant background in martial arts or wrestling. She was a fucking mechanic.

‘Should have taken a more useful elective,’ Ji Min thought, marking endless check boxes. ‘No one ever cares that I can play the trombone. It hasn’t come up in years. What a waste. I could have done… wrestling, or even golf or tennis would probably have some transferrable hitting skills and coordination. If I’d been a skateboard or parkour girlie, that would have been useful to me now.’

…She wondered where the trombone was.

“That’s it.” Alejandro took the last papers with a flourish. Ji Min absentmindedly rubbed at her hand, working out the stiffness. “Thank you very much. If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce you to your new peer.”

It took a moment to remember that oh yeah, someone else had started two weeks ago when she was supposed to. “That would be great,” she agreed, inwardly sighing.

Maybe they’d be cool. But of course, that would just mean the government was winning. They didn’t just happen to have them start at the same time– they intentionally wanted to have batches, hero cohorts, to make teams and to make them more committed to the organization.

Still. She decided to hope that they were cool. It would be nice to know someone hero-villainy adjacent who wasn’t Hammer or murderous.

Two more suits came into the room. One was a middle aged woman in a white pants suit and black button up shirt with white eyeliner. The other was a relatively young man, blandly handsome with the beginnings of smile wrinkles around his eyes. He was all in blue- trousers, jacket, shirt, and shoes.

…She gave Alejandro a judgmental look for letting the room down. Everyone else was serving a look. He was in the basic business bitch outfit.

Then the young man reached a hand out to her. “You’ve gotta be Moonstrike.” She took it and shook his hand on muscle memory. “I’m Alex, I don’t have a code name yet.” His eyebrows went up as he looked at her. “You’re committed, huh!” He gave her one of those cheesy white person grins.

Oh. Not a government worker, he was the other hero trainee. “Nice to meet you, Alex.” She gave one firm shake and let go. His hand was pleasantly warm, but kind of… wet. She was wondering if he had some kind of water theme going on or if he was just a sweaty guy.

She subtly looked at his temples and didn’t see any signs of perspiration.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you.” He adjusted his stance. Was he… was he hero posing?

“Me too,” Ji Min said, because what else could she say to this damp man? “I might have to lean on your expertise, since I’m starting late.”

“I’ll give you my notes,” he promised.

Alejandro seemed pleased that she’d played nice, so Ji Min congratulated herself on a good job and escaped the building as soon as she could. Even if Alex panned out to be totally underwhelming, she could at least count the interaction as a victory for Alejandro’s stress levels.

She had a long drive back home, since she’d signed up for an Illinois program and wasn’t confessing where she actually lived. She was beyond tired by the time she got home on Saturday night… Technically Sunday morning, she realized, checking the time. She came in quietly to avoid bothering Ari.

The worry turned out to be superfluous. Ari was on the sofa, bundled in her orange blanket, on her phone while the TV blared an old movie. “Welcome back,” she said, not looking up.

Ji Min threw herself down. “I’m so tired,” she complained.

Ari toed her in the side in reproach for sitting too close. In response, Ji Min pushed a little closer.

“I can’t believe they sent you out immediately after you got back in state,” Ari said. She finally put her phone down. “What’s up with that?”

Ji Min hesitated. It was kind of embarrassing. But Ari was her sister and her roommate. She deserved some honesty, as well as credit that she would eventually notice if she was rooming with a state hero. “It wasn’t work,” she settled. “Not that work, anyway.” She readjusted on the sofa for more comfort. “I want to talk to you about it, actually.”

“Okay,” Ari said slowly. She sat up better. “Is something wrong? Did you need to get more hours to cover me?”

“No, it’s not that,” Ji Min waved the concern away. “No, I….” She trailed off. It sounded so stupid. “I got recruited into a hero program,” she admitted.

There was silence. “Shut up,” Ari said. “What?”

“Yeah.” Ji Min made a face. “I’m going in as a contractor. They don’t know my name, or about you or anything,” she assured. “But I want the training.”

Ari started playing with her hair, flipping the end of her braid between her fingers. “Is this… Is it your like, mind reading thing?” She frowned. “Reverse mind reading,” she corrected herself. “I can see why you’d want to train that.”

Ji Min stared. “My what?”

The two sisters looked at each other. “The thing where you project your hater ass thoughts into my mind?” Ari said slowly. A wrinkle appeared on her forehead. “Did you… not know that you do that?”

Her mouth was hanging open. “I’m not sure that’s me,” Ji Min said finally.

They held totally still and blinked at each other, like two lizards. Two beautiful lizards who didn’t know which one of them had mind powers.

Then Ji Min realized, “You thought I knew and we just, what, don’t talk about it?”

“You don’t talk about most things,” Ari said defensively. “I’ve never heard anyone else’s thoughts, so it’s gotta be you, not me.”

“No one else has ever said they hear my thoughts,” Ji Min argued. “I think most people would comment or startle.”

They were at a bit of an impasse.

Eventually, Ari cleared her throat. “What powers do you know about?”

“Uh.” Ji Min shook her head, disturbed. “Super strength. I’m pretty fast too, have good stamina–”

Ari groaned and put her hands in her hair. “You’re Moonstrike,” she complained.

“What’s wrong with that?” Ji Min asked defensively. The name was really growing on her.

“You’re such a fucking loser,” Ari moaned. She shook her head a little. “Nothing, it’s just… Do you know Min Joon has a Moonstrike poster?”

Ji Min shrieked. Their little brother had a poster of her? “Poster? Who is making posters?”

Ari gave her a wary look. That gave her the answer.

“Hammer,” Ji Min said, voice choked up with hatred. She put her face in her hands. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“...I really should have seen this before,” Ari said. She sighed. “Okay. Yeah, you need to get training. Thank you for telling me. We are not telling the family, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Ji Min said, trying not to cry from frustration that Hammer was selling merchandise. Wait. She lifted her head. “What’s on the poster?”

“A still of you throwing that moon. But there’s also one of you dodging bouncy balls from the Planetarium gift shop.”

She had never felt so tired in her life. “I’m not allowed to go after him until I’ve finished training,” she said. She was reminding herself, really. “I can’t kill him until I’ve finished training.”

Ari eyed her sympathetically. “I don’t think they give you a license to kill.”

Ji Min stood up. “I need to take a shower and get to bed.”

“Good luck sleeping with that knowledge,” Ari said sincerely. She put her face in her hands. “We should try to figure out which one of us is doing the mind thing. Don’t tell the cops.”

“I definitely will not,” Ji Min agreed.