As it turns out Reese, also known as Reep, was a tiny evil genius. The country Mon-El and his companions found themselves in ran on something called capitalism, which was a mildly terrifying economic model based on exploiting resources for monetary gain. Reese was single handedly going to make Amnesia a successful venture through three simple and easy steps:
First was the ethylizer, a device which, between Mon-El’s knowledge of galactic brews and Reep’s ability to synthesize the right chemicals, would allow them to produce hundreds of alcoholic recipes for a variety of alien palates. Second was the Tamaranean balm, usually a rare and expensive item to obtain that allowed the user to learn another’s language just through touch, but Reep was a shapeshifter, one who knew just how the Tamaraneans’ ability worked and could synthesize the balm himself. Third was, simply put, a disguise. Reep knew most aliens couldn’t pass as human on their own, not like he or Mon-El could, and though some were like Brin and could pass at a glance, usually things like blue skin, antenna, or crests prevented them from leaving the shadows, which could all be solved with a second layer of skin. Just by coating themselves in synthetic body-paint, alien scales could be smoothed over, protrusions pinned down, ridges blended in, and colors covered up.
Oh yes, come to Amnesia and the world will forget you’re an alien, by Rao, you might even forget it yourself! Talk like a human, look like a human, and keep drinking until it feels just like home. It didn’t hurt that having a bonding little community could help keep them in the loop of what went on in the city, any threats against aliens or news from the stars, or whatever else they could need.
And since Mon-El’s suggestions were shaping up so well, Q had decided to capitalize on their ambitions and go for gold. ”I’m just saying, a local dive bar, full of aliens, we’ve practically got our fingers on the pulse here! We could do the whole hero thing easy!” She’d decided on Kid Quantum, and had invented name for all of them. Again. Brin was Timber Wolf (”Come on, Teen Wolf is so classic!”), Reep was Chameleon, (“Stop calling him Camo, oh my god!”), and Mon-El’s was to be Valor, a shortened version of Valorium, his old Daxamite moniker.
Somehow the group had managed to wheedle bits of his story out of him as the days progressed… The less said of his loose lips when testing Reep’s samples the better.
”I’m only saying it’s too early, we can’t help anyone if we don’t know what we’re doing - and what’s the point of going through the effort of opening this place if no one is going to be here?” All good points by Brin, but Mon-El was starting to grow attached to the idea.
Reep spoke up before he could; ”We did start this as a safe place for us, but it’s different now isn’t it? Mon-El encouraged us to open up to help other aliens too. Becoming heroes, using our powers wouldn’t that help them even more? If humans see aliens protecting them, maybe one day none of them will have to hide.” Sweet, thoughtful Reep, sometimes Mon-El was stunned by how nice the Durlan was.
The original trio had only planned for two rooms at Amnesia, one for Reep, one for Brin, and since Q couldn’t very well bring a strange alien boy home to her oblivious parents, that meant he had to stay with one of the others. Brin, in no uncertain terms, told him he smelled like radiation and would not be sharing a room with that. Ever. Reep was cagier, he admitted he shapeshifted in his sleep, and since he was a Durlan… but Mon-El already knew about Durla, and it’s peoples’ true forms, Reep could hide his creepy side from the others, but he didn’t need to with Mon-El. He still half expected to be threatened to keep it to himself, or be kicked out and told to find a mat and sleep behind the bar, but instead Reep had been kind and shy, not at all like the dangerous xenophobic people of Durla he’d learned about on Daxam.
”See? Reep’s with me! And Mon-El is like, indestructible, we’ll be fine!” She was really persistent, and everyone knew she’d already won this argument; neither Reep nor Brin could deny her anything, too grateful for her friendship and welcome when Earth had proven itself to be a struggle time and time again. Mon-El felt the same, but not to the same extent, he was thankful not only for being welcomed, but for showing him what a group of honestly good and open friends were like, something he’d never found on Daxam.
”Q is correct, very little on this world could truly harm you.” Right, Worm, he’d been quiet lately, hardly speaking more than a dozen times in the week since they’d been here. The AI had informed him of what to expect though, as far as powers he’d gain under a yellow sun, which was the most bizarre logic he’d ever heard. Why hadn’t his people packed up and moved to a yellow star ages ago? It was just the kind of impulsive power-seeking his mother would have loved to be at the head of. ”Although, I must suggest obtaining uniforms and disguises, like on Daxam maintaining a secret identity is imperative if you wish to stand in the way of danger without being silenced before you can truly help.”
That, at least, wouldn’t be a problem. Q had been planning this for months, long before his arrival, she was sure to have a solution to becoming a hero and keeping her parents in the dark about it. Looks like this was really happening...
Emma
Skai