VELVETEEN vs. The Parliamentarian #3
Sometimes OSHA regulations and the availability of a hot cup of tea were the only things standing between Victory Anna and a career change to villainy.
The woman sneered at Polychrome. “Of course you did. You’re both members of the superhuman military industrial complex. Why, I’m sure you thought the rest of us peons would just step back and let you do as you liked, without any interference from us.”
“Right now, all we want to do is get on this ride,” said Polychrome, as patiently as she could.
And that was when Victory Anna broke into the conversation, and everything went terribly wrong.
Stepping forward, so as to put herself between the strange woman and her girlfriend, she asked, “Are you opposed to the presence of superhumans in the public sphere? Because we were having a perfectly pleasant afternoon, and requested no interjections from the proletariat.”
“Oh, no,” said the woman, with a small, smug smile. “I’m not that much of a hypocrite.”
“Torrey…” said Polychrome, trying to pull Victory Anna back. “I think we should go.”
“Too late for that,” said the stranger. “For you have awakened The Parliamentarian!” She struck a pose, dramatic enough that it seemed like a shame that it wasn’t accompanied by a roll of thunder and a crack of lightning.
“Suppose we know she doesn’t have storm-based powers,” said Victory Anna dryly.
Polychrome grabbed her arm and yanked. Victory Anna stumbled back against her, shooting her a somewhat sour look in the process.
“I say,” she said. “I don’t remember consenting to rough play in public.”
Polychrome didn’t say anything, only pointed to the woman in black with her free hand. Victory Anna turned back to her.
She was still standing frozen in her over-dramatic pose, owls dropping out of the sky to swirl around her in a feathery, self-contained tornado of silent wings and flying feathers.
Each one circled three times before lifting back into the sky, settling on nearby trees and structures to watch as The Parliamentarian was revealed.
Black spandex had been replaced by a skin-tight suit of gray and black feathers, speckled and streaked like the feathers of a great horned owl, until she was draped in a camouflage that would have been all but flawless in a forest environment, but was virtually useless in the brightly-colored, well-lit Park.
A mask covered the top half of her face and the entirety of her hair, crowned by two feathery plumes that should have looked ridiculous but somehow managed to look menacing instead.
Unimpressed, Victory Anna scoffed. “What, do you have magic owl powers? Are you angry about the Princess borrowing your companions? What is the purpose of this?”
The queue was emptying around them, people who’d been looking for a fun afternoon at an amusement park wisely deciding that boredom was better than being caught in the middle of a superpowered brawl.
“I do not have ‘magic owl powers,’ as you say,” snarled The Parliamentarian.
“I represent the strength and anger of the order Strigiformes. Their fury flows through me, and I have all the capabilities of their kind. Your Princess enslaves my brethren, forces them into menial roles in her household, and uses them as entertainment for children. I stand here draped in vengeance, to claim retribution on their behalf.”
Polychrome pulled Victory Anna back farther. “We’re not looking for trouble—”
“Tragic.” The Parliamentarian struck a fresh dramatic pose. “My camouflage serves me well indeed, for trouble you have found.”
“How about we just agree to disagree?” asked Polychrome.
“How about you agree to die violently?” countered The Parliamentarian. She pointed one sharp-taloned finger at Victory Anna.
And then the owls descended.
* * *
The Princess burst out of the Crystal Glitter Unicorn Cloud Castle with Velveteen and Tag close behind, the light glinting off the countless crystals encrusting her gown until she seemed to practically glow, a furious miniature sun plunging into the excited crowds of the Park.
Not all the excitement was about the sudden appearance of their iconic heroine.
Much of the excitement seemed to be centered on running away from the other side of the Park as quickly as physically possible.
Tag drew a ladder on the sidewalk and pulled it loose, shaking it solid and propping it up against a nearby snack cart, which Velveteen promptly climbed.
“What in the ever after?” demanded the Princess, squinting at the fleeing crowds. “There’s no running after rope drop, and there’s not supposed to be any running then!”
“Owls!” wailed a woman clutching a popcorn bucket to her chest like a prize. “Owls!”
“Right,” said the Princess grimly. She climbed the ladder to stand next to Velveteen. “We’re going to have a hard time fighting our way through that ruckus without hurting somebody.”
“Can’t you fly?” asked Tag.
“Sometimes,” said the Princess. “Only when the children of the world have decided to lean toward princesses being able to take to the air, and right now, they haven’t. I could summon a horse, but I’m pretty sure someone would get trampled.”
“Can you get me a can of spray paint?” he asked. “More would be better. Two or three.”
“That I can do,” said the Princess. She whistled, and several small, long-limbed monkeys came swinging out of the nearby trees with silver canisters in their hands, climbing the snack cart to present them to their mistress.
She kissed each of them on their small simian heads as she took the paint, then tossed the cans to Tag.
He spun them in his hands and gave them an experimental shake before grinning with what could only be called absolute contentment.
Velveteen grinned back, unable to stop her heart from beating just a little faster at the sight of his joy.
He was back. He was really, truly, definitely back, and not just a puppet animated for her amusement.
It was getting easier and easier to believe that.
Maybe in time, she’d forget to question it at all.
Tag turned his attention to the roof of the snack cart, beginning to sketch out a large rectangle in multiple colors, filling it in with a swooping, swirling pattern of red, blue, and green before putting down the cans and uncapping the marker he had used to draw his mask.
Bending toward his latest creation, he added comically large cartoon eyes and a sideways smile.
With this accomplished, he returned the marker to his pocket and grasped the edge of the drawing, peeling it up from the roof like it was some sort of decal.
With a snap, the carpet became three-dimensional and as real as anything in the world. He looked toward Velveteen, his own grin brighter than the one he’d drawn.
“It has a face,” she said.
“My powers don’t work as well as yours sometimes,” he said. “I can’t make superpowered things with the powers built in. But I can make a model of a flying carpet for you to animate.”
“Give it here,” she said. He handed her the carpet with a flourish, and watched as she focused all her attention on it.
Her eyes didn’t glow and her breathing didn’t change, but the carpet twitched, then drifted out of her hands before doing a slow loop around her, floating easily a foot and a half off the snack cart roof.
“Nice trick,” said the Princess.
He shrugged. “I make my drawings come alive.”
“And I can animate anything with a face.” Velveteen sat down on the edge of the carpet and pulled her legs up, tucking them beneath herself. “Sit down. Your chariot awaits.”
The Princess and Tag both joined her on the carpet, which sank slightly under their weight but didn’t otherwise move. She grinned at them. “Hold on,” she suggested.
Tag grabbed the edge of the carpet. The Princess just smiled serenely.
“Ladies don’t go tumbling,” she said.
The carpet lifted into the air at Velveteen’s silent command, soaring smoothly toward whatever the crowd was fleeing from. Tag and Velveteen hung onto the edges. The Princess only sat at the front of the carpet, apparently as comfortable and relaxed as a queen.
Up ahead, a swirl of birds could be seen, darkening the sky. “Those yours?” asked Velveteen.
“Nope,” said the Princess, after a momentary pause. “They must be the owls that lady was yelling about.”
“Is the Park being attacked by owls?” asked Tag, dubiously.
“Stranger things have happened, sweetie, says the woman in the weaponized attack ball gown to the man who was dead two hours ago,” said the Princess, like it was the most reasonable thing in world.
Tag just laughed, shaking his head a little helplessly.
Velveteen glanced over at him, and he looked back at her, smiling a meltingly sincere smile.
She returned it, the carpet dipping a little lower in the air to avoid attracting the attention of the owls.
He was back. He was awake and alive and now they were going to have to figure out what came next, because she was pretty sure he was her responsibility, at least until they had him reestablished as legally alive.
Somehow, the idea of dealing with all that paperwork seemed absolutely wonderful.
A jet of rainbow-swirled glitter blasted past them, narrowly missing the carpet. Velveteen yelped and the carpet swerved. “That’s Polychrome!” she shouted. “We’re going the right way!”
“Picked up on that from all the owls,” shouted the Princess. “Watch out!”
Owls, both larger and smaller than Velveteen had ever imagined, began dive-bombing them as they floated toward the ground.
She grabbed the edge of the carpet, going into a series of evasive maneuvers to keep the feathery sacks of knives and rage from slamming into them.
The Princess rode serene and untroubled, while Tag scrambled to recover his grip.
“Vel!” he yelled, a note of panic in his voice.