Interlude 10

(Elizabeth ‘Betsy’ Braddock)

February 19th, 1997
The United Kingdom
London
New Bond Street
Delila’s
11:23 AM

Betsy was doing this new photo shoot for a friend who created a new brand, fortunately, to not get mobbed by anyone, they hired Frances Knight and her bodyguards team. Frances Knight was the leader of the stylish, expensive, and incredibly powerful all-girl protection agency called Fashion In Action. The new shop was facing the Dior one, and because of all the people gawking at them, the street was congested.

It was time to change clothes yet again for another shoot. As she went inside the shop once again to change in the back room reserved for employees. Today, the photographer and her have decided to put on layers of clothes as a theme for winter; not just for that, it was mainly to hide the bruises she had received from her training with Commander Hunter. Betsy really loved her work at STRIKE, but she had a bad time juggling between her top model job and being an agent in training.

Knock. Knock.

“Get a move on, Betsy! We’re burning daylight!” Betsy heard her photographer’s voice through the door of the locker room.

David Rocsher, her photographer, was overzealous and stocked up on as much clothes for his theme and it made for long sessions each day; if the paychecks weren't so… substantial, Betsy wouldn't bother working with him. 

The man was tall, a bit chubby with salt pepper hair; he was clothed in warm clothes that made him look bigger. David's personality was quirky and annoying when he was practicing his 'art'. He was married to a rich artist named Dora Black, who was famous for having painted the British royal family and more notably the King. When he looked at the beautiful female models, it was without lust, and more like statues and painting. The man would never cheat on his wife, Betsy knew as she had scanned his mind thoroughly before associating with him.

Even though David was hard to work with, he had his good sides; Betsy was warned by him to not give in to the peer pressure of the fashion industry with its rampant corruption and unhealthy beauty standards. The purplette couldn’t agree more when those walking bags of bones had the audacity of thinking that she was ‘fat’! Betsy had been infuriated at first, but after a moment of hearing the girls thoughts, she understood that all those girls had some kind of problems, they controlled their calorie intake by making themselves vomit after eating or by misusing laxatives, used diet aids, diuretics or enemas. Some of them had been unhealthy to look at as they looked severely malnourished.

David had helped Betsy see that kind of trap called anorexia plaguing the fashion industry; that was why she sucked it up and worked hard with the man. Betsy positioned herself before the store and started smiling and posing with her hands in her coat, feet apart. David started bombarding her with his camera's flash.

Helped by one of the employees, Betsy donned her pantsuits and accessories; she didn’t have to modify her makeup too much. When she exited the room it was to be handed out a dark blue coat with a stylized D letter in silver on the right lapel. The purplette exited the store and shielded her eyes momentarily; Betsy wasn’t even disturbed by the gray clouds messing the lightning in the street and the people gawking at her before the vitrine of her friend’s shop.

“Yes, Betsy that’s good, look more happy!” David commanded.

Betsy shifted her facial expression and put on a big smile that reached her eyes as she used a happy memory of herself and her brother playing games with their father. 

“Smile and tilt your head.” David approached Betsy as she tilted her head slightly left with a chin down posture; giving the impression that the purplette was in serious thought.

Click. Flash.

“Open your arms and laugh, my darling.” Betsy followed his instruction and acted as if she welcomed someone.

Click. Flash.

“Put on your sunglasses.” Betsy took a moment, opened her coat and put on her aviator sunglasses, compatible with her current outfit; a dark blue winter coat that was covering a long black and white pantsuit that screamed rich and independent, it showed a lot of neckline.

Click. Flash.

“Yeah, like that, that’s a good girl.” David congratulated her with a patronizing tone.

Betsy almost threw him a dull glare, but she was working and couldn’t afford it; she was a professional. The purplette had an image to foster after all.

“Pin up pose!” Betsy ran a hand in her hair, tipped her head to one side and the other on the waist.

Click. Flash.

“Profile now, sweetheart.” Like in her lessons, Betsy tightened her stomach, squared her shoulders and shifted her wait a bit. The key to a successful profile pose is to remember that it's all about body shape, posture, and curves. 

Click. Flash.

“Against the wall now aaaand good.” David nodded at Betsy who had positioned herself between the white wall and the vitrine of the shop’s entrance. Walls are just another prop to play with. In standing poses, you can lean against the wall. Having a wall adds some drama and interest to the composition and gives the model another focal point to work with. 

Click. Flash.

“Good work, Betsy!” David let his camera fall on his belly, it was attached to him by a strap at his neck.

David’s assistant, Milly, and also his daughter brought a water canteen to him and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. Betsy looked at the chubby man and asked, “Are we done already?”

She doubted it, this was barely enough photos for four pages. David grinned at Betsy and answered, “No, we have the inside of the shop to do as well.”

The purplette nodded. “Okay.”

After this they entered inside the shop and looked as the bodyguards waited for them, Betsy helped out a little by transporting the gear. Betsy steeled herself for another session of rapid shooting and posing for David. Frances, the female bodyguard, was at the shop’s door with her hand reaching for her concealed pistol as she noticed people with asian features being too interested in watching the shop. Betsy caught onto that fact but dismissed it. David directed Betsy between the racks of clothes where there was the most light.

“Now, my dear, try to be your fabulous self!” David said with camera in hand.

 

# # #

 

Essex
Maldon
Braddock Manor
03:30 PM

 

Maldon, a town of 15,000 people along the tidal River Chelmer, by the Blackwater Estuary in Essex. It is on the A414 16 km east of Chelmsford, and 79 km north east of Charing Cross, London, using the A13. This was where Betsy and her family called home; the purplette loved the place and wished to never leave it, despite countless offers being given to her to do so for her education or her model agency; not even when that bald old man who was a mutant like her had come with his brainwashed students to take her away from her family.

Betsy made an expression of utter disgust and loathing as she watched the land around her pass while she sat in the car. She remembered how that awful man had tried to mind-trick her parents into joining his school. Fortunately, she had felt the attempt from the other room and told her father what the man had attempted. Now let’s say the X-men and Charles Xavier are persona non-grata in the UK. The purplette finally noticed that the van was approaching her home, Braddock Manor.

Braddock Manor was a 362 square meters three storey home with white stone and blue tin roof, it was homey and cozy with Betsy’s father having installed hard light holographic emitters everywhere for the Artificial Intelligence called Jeeves who lived in the computer named Mastermind to interact with the interior of the house to proceed to its duty. Betsy still didn’t trust that machine, it gave her the creeps; why couldn’t her father hire maids or a real majordomo?

Frances Knight’s armored van entered the property and stopped in the driveway of Braddock Manor flanked by the large garden of Betsy’s mother. 

“We’re here, Miss Braddock.” The driver at Betsy’s side announced.

Turning to the woman, Betsy smiled at her and expressed her gratitude. “Thanks for bringing me home. Today… was a long day.”

“That’s part of our job, have a good evening.” The woman replied back with her own smile.

“Same.” Betsy said as she exited the car.

She waved goodbye as the driver left, then she turned to the house and walked toward the porch of her home only to frown at the double door being wide open. Betsy stopped in her track and scanned the house with her mind, only for her face to darken as she felt closeted mind that she couldn’t read with her passive scan; the mutant girl could feel the mind of her mother and father in the panic room of the Manor, the one in the master bedroom.

Betsy reached for her mother’s mind and asked her, *Mum? Are you alright?”*

*Betsy run! The computer has gone crazy and there are intruders in the house!* Betsy’s mom shouted mentally in a frantic manner.

*Mum!* Betsy said as she ran inside the foyer.

Bang! The door leading to the great room inside the manor opened to let three masked men clothed in red satin pajamas appeared; they ran at great speed toward Betsy. Two purple glowing telekinetic crossbows appeared at her side and fired at the men charging her.  Two of them evaded the TK bolts the last one didn’t when Betsy manifested a psionic blast from behind him that caused him to scream bloody murder and shut down his mind.

The two red clothed men ignored their companion to fully focus on Betsy and brandish their weapons; two short straight blades looking wicked sharp. Betsy had no choice but to augment her body with her telekinesis and start to dance with them to avoid being cut or stabbed.

Betsy parried a slash by manifesting a forcefield and knocking back the ninja on the left while blocking the one on the right but the man crouched low and the young woman's leg were swept under her by a low kick that made her stumble, but Betsy straightened herself with a quick cartwheel that she turned into a swipe of her leg that brought down one of her assailant in a wall, destroying a light and a painting.

Betsy laid out the other ninja with a psionic blast that wracked him with pain, the man resisted the blast but the purplette hit him again until he dropped. She double tapped the ninja who was getting up and shut down his mind. Betsy was about to do the same thing for the man at her feet when he sprung into action and grabbed her ankle.

Feeling something bite into her skin, Betsy cried out. “Why you-”

She could finally read the man’s mind as pain was coursing his body disturbing the method by which he used to close his mind to her and betsy understood that she was fucked. The man stood over her body, his right hand open with a glove full of needles; each of them full of powerful neuromuscular blocking agents. Betsy felt herself slowly lose mobility as she tried to stand up. Betsy could not focus too much as a haze of something darkened her vision; she guessed that those bloody ninja laced the paralytic they injected her with had something to dull her mind. 

*They knew about my powers!*

The man in red crouched next to her and said, “Professor Xavier sends his regards, pet.”

Slap. He hit her so hard that she lost consciousness instantly.

 

# # #

 

1 week later
???
???

 

Betsy doesn’t know where she was, but it sucked. Somehow she was a prisoner in her own body that she couldn't bloody move. There was another woman on the bed next to her. She was taller than average, looked asian with black hair and looked as if she had been hit by a truck. Betsy, who could only move her head at this moment, was spotted by a lab assistant and got another dose of the paralytic they’ve been shooting her with; but she was steadily resisting its effect as time passed.

She knew that it’s been at least a week since she’d been kidnapped at Xavier’s behest -She was going to kill that man when she got free- and from her brief foray with astral projection, Betsy has found that she was on an island, not too far from the mainland. As she couldn’t read Kanji or whatever the asian language on the sign was, Betsy was lost.

There was a commotion in the room, and a black haired man with a horrifically scarred face and missing an arm wearing a kimono appeared into her field of vision. For once, Betsy was blessed by the fact that she couldn’t move her body, she was sure that she would be puking her guts at the view of the man, he was missing his nose and also a part of his face.

“Change of plan, I need this body for Kannon.” The man said as he placed himself at the side of the comatose tall asian woman.

One of the masked lab assistants who had been trying to stop the man from entering the room replied with panic and urgency,  “We can’t Matsu'o-sama! This subject is part of an important project!”

The man growled and caught the assistant by the lapel of his lab coat and growled, “I don’t care! Kannon matters more! She is compatible with the procedure!”

Matsu’o sighed and must have realized that he was being stubborn and said, “Take the loss of revenue of this contract from my account with a favor owed.”

“Very well, Matsu'o-sama.” The assistant bowed and left.

Betsy looked as the man’s sole remaining brown eye focused on her. He said with an apologetic tone, “I’m sorry young woman, what we’re about to do to you will be impugning on your free will and soak your hands in blood, but you won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

“We will place her in your body.” This admission chilled Betsy’s blood as she began to have a panic attack, so much so that everything around her began to float. 

*NOPE, NOPE! Fuck this! Someone! Anyone please help!* Betsy’s astral body exited the prison of flesh that her body had become and cried out for help.

An assistant shot the purplette with a hypospray to knock her out. Somehow, the building shook and a yellow and orange light engulfed the room.

SKREEEEE!!!

---

A/N: So here's an interlude that predict some of what's gonna happen.

If you are looking to get early chapters and read all the good stuff I haven't posted to the public yet, support with the link below:

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