"All I'm saying," continued Felicity, in as quiet a voice as possible, "is that it might not be such a bad thing. She's been beautiful her whole life. This will build character."
Francesca, sitting on the sofa of the living room, looked incensed and scandalized. "Madonna, Fay-leese, how you can say that? It is a gran tragedy! She was soooo beautiful, an' now!" Tears filled the empathetic Sicilian's eyes.
"Shhhh," returned Felicity. "She's fat, but she's not deaf, you know."
"She sleeping," said Francesca. "Is very sad. Maybe we help her loose weight?"
"Of course we can, but only if she wants us to. I can offer to run with her in the mornings, but I think right now is too soon. I think she's still pretty sensitive."
"We can' jus' say nothing. Madonna! Act like everything is just normal? The poor girl! We gotta talk to her." Francesca, known as "Lantern" in the superhero community, was growing progressively darker as the night wore on, and Felicity knew what that meant. Francesca's moods, which ranged from euphoric to deeply depressed, usually corresponded with her power, the ability to absorb or reflect light. She was, essentially, at 23-year-old mood ring. At the moment, her hair was jet black, and her skin looked deeply tanned, almost African.
"No, Lantern, it's too soon to help her find solutions. It happened like two days ago. Let her grieve for a bit. I've been a few pounds overweight myself before, and it wasn't terrible...I just had to learn to be disciplined and rely on mys--"
"Fay-leese! It's notta the same thing at all, an' you know that!" Remembering herself, this time, Lantern quieted down. "She gain what? Sixty-five kilo--sorry, hundred fifty pounds? In less than a minute, an' you think that a normal? None o' her clothes fit no more! None! An' you say discipline! What would you really do if that was you?"
Felicity (called Blur because of her powers of speed) pursed her thin lips uncomfortably. Fine. She'd never admitted it when the girl still had a perfect figure, but she'd always been a bit jealous of Bella. Francesca seemed to be the only one who never was--Francesca, who, while pretty, was neither as thin or as gorgeous as either of them. And Francesca was probably right. "Shit," said Felicity. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"'Course I'm right." Large, black eyes flashed with anger. The negative emotions were beginning to come on.
"All right, all right," sighed Felicity, standing up, and turning off the television which had provided some level of camouflage to their conversation. Let's go check on the girl. You realize we're probably only waking her up?"
"Even so, she need us. She need somebody." They walked down the hallway to Bella's bedroom door.
Felicity raised her fist hesitated a moment before knocking, and...
"I know you've been talking about me," came a muffled voice from behind the door. It still surprised both girls how rich the voice now sounded.
"Of course we have," said Felicity. "Can we come in?"
"Sure."
The door creaked open. Both girls, if they didn't gasp, at least hesitated a moment, a bit stunned. They had expected to find their roommate lying in bed, surrounded by tissues, or with the covers pulled over her head and ample body. They'd expected her eyes to be puffier than even the excess weight had made them, and her hair to be disarranged, without a trace of makeup. So what they saw, understandably, took them by surprise.
Their roommate, Bella, was standing up, on her two legs, each--now--as thick around as her entire body had been three days before. They were surprised, first, that she was wearing boots, which had a slight heel and were laced up, but looked hardy enough for any outdoor hike. Above these, her exquisitely tanned but huge legs were bare, up until a kind of black leotard, which covered her bulging upper thighs, butt, tummy and prodigious breasts, ending at her neck. Painted over the leotard, stretched over her belly and breasts, was the image--a logo--of a sun shining. Her full face--still oddly beautiful and full of energy, like the faces in a Rubens painting, or a heavier version of Mucha's "Ivy," was made up, and she was, at the moment, gathering her golden ringlets from around her golden shoulders, and putting it up in a ponytail.
"Freya!" exclaimed Francesca. What you wearing? What-a-you doing?"
"I'm not Freya anymore," said Bella, grimly checking herself, just for a moment, in the mirror.
"What in the world are you doing? And what are you wearing?" asked Felicity.
"It's my new costume," chirped Bella, in a voice that approached cheerfulness.
"It's nice," said Felicity, tentatively. "Umm...why are you wearing it now?"
"I have to go patrol."
"But...you don't patrol at night. You never did, even when you...had..."
"I have new powers now."
"Do you?" Felicity's voice sounded worried.
"Yes." Bella straightened her hair.
"And what are those?"
Bella turned from the mirror, and walked up to Felicity, who backed away unconsciously. Bella got closer, until she was in Felicity's face, her belly touching Felicity's toned abs. "To get really annoyed at skinny little bitches who think being fat builds character."
Before Felicity could back away, she felt herself being lifted--easily--by the former beauty goddess, scraping past belly and breasts, until she was held over Bella's head.
"Freya, put her down!" screamed Lantern.
Bella laughed. "My name's not Freya anymore, Francesca! You can call me the Amazon."
With that, Felicity felt herself tossed lightly into Bella's bed, as the Amazon slammed the door behind her. She heard Francesca cry out, "Bella, eh, come back! Where are you going?"
"Sorry, Fran," came Bella's voice, further away. "I have a new mission now. I've finally found my place." And the Amazon was gone.
"Are you okay, Fay-leese?" cried Lantern, coming to the side of the bed, where the girl was slowly rising.
"Yeah, I'm fine," answered Felicity. Might have pulled something, but I'm okay."
"We should follow her, yeah?"
"Yeah. Probably."
"You think she gonna be all right?"
"I have no idea. Not if I get through with her first, she won't."
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