Re-Evolution: Episode 1: The Shadow Over New Salem

Part 1

Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, still steaming from her shower, to find that someone had laid out clothes for her on her bed. The cute outfit was one she had worn a lot-- though not in the last six months. There was a cute pink top with a lace ruff, a white, hip-length sweater throw, black, knee length pleated skirt with pink lace up the side, and a pair of white pantyhose.

The offending party had at least restrained themselves from picking out her underwear, it seemed.

‘This time, at least,’ Morgan thought with a bitter frown on her face.

There was a moment of hesitation, a moment of frustrated rebellion, that told her to just wear what she damn well pleased anyway and damn the inevitable screaming match that would come.

But there was another part of her that knew that'd be a bad idea. At least… a bad way to start the day.

Morgan, with her long dark hair parted around sharply pointed ears and her pale, pale, slightly purple tinged skin still damp from the long and relaxing shower, walked over to the dresser to grab some underthings, and pull a few more suitable clothes that she could change into later in the day.

As she walked her way back to the bed, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She was, and always had been, quite tall and angular. With a sharp featured face, high cheekbones, long lashes and a charming smile-- a smile which turned quite sharp indeed once her fangs grew in. Her shoulders, perhaps, were a little wide. Her hips narrower than she'd like-- and there were plenty of other parts of her anatomy that her mind tried to needle her about; especially in the irritated and self-conscious state that someone's choice in clothes brought out.

With a soft 'tch' between her pointed teeth, she walked back to the bed and got dressed for the day in the outfit she wished she could have left back in Red Oak, Maine.

As she was brooding, there came a soft, almost hesitant knock on the door-- surprisingly soft really, given the usual thunderous approach..

"Hey, sis, you almost ready? I made eggs." The voice was as hesitant as the knock.

That too, was surprising. Her brother usually left all the cooking to her. He was probably trying to appease her for the clothes thing.

Morgan didn't say a word as she tugged on the pantyhose, and wriggled into the old skirt. She thought she'd gotten rid of the thing back when they were packing. It was clear that ‘someone’ noticed she'd 'forgotten' it.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped into the throw sweater that had been laid out for her, and grabbed a large school bag from the corner. Opening it, she began throwing in the clothes she’d grabbed from her closet. The fishnet stockings and shirt A few spiked armbands and a choker, some chains on clips,.and some other pieces with a lot more black and red to it than the outfit she was wearing now.

Zipping up her bag, she sighed, and called, "Yeah, yeah. I'm done."

The door opened gently and a young man stood in the frame. He was Morgan's twin-- literally. He had the same sharp featured face and high cheekbones, same long lashes and soft smile. However, the shoulders that seemed wide on her seemed a bit narrow on him though he was quite muscular despite their shared slenderness. The only real contrast between them besides the muscle was that where her complexion had a cast of dusky violet his had an ever-so-slightly metallic sheen of silvery gold. He was wearing a gym t-shirt, jeans, and gold and black letterman-style jacket from their old school, as usual. The only thing that seemed to change on  him day-to-day was the specifics of the shirt he wore. As usual, he had his hair pulled up in a ponytail, with just enough down in front to hide his ears.

He looked her over significantly, and once he was obviously satisfied with her outfit, he tried to pretend that he hadn't.

"Morning. You look good."

"You certainly made sure of that." She made no attempt to disguise the irritation in her voice as she shouldered past him into the upstairs hall. "You made eggs, Greg? Usually I do the cooking."

Greg grimaced as she brushed by him, turning to follow.

"Well, yeah, but, I figured you'd want, you know, longer to get ready today," he grumbled slightly. " Girls always take longer to get dressed..." he chuckled lamely and waved her to follow, closing her door behind them. "C'mon, it;ll get cold."

Morgan rolled her eyes as she passed him again, her bag dangling over her shoulder "I'm doing my hair after we eat. I'll just do my makeup at school"

‘All the better to match my other outfit, anyway,’ she thought, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Are you sure? You don't want to have it set when you walk in?" he asked with a note of concern. He made his way leading her through down the hall of the new house. Though the bulk of the moving had been finished, there were boxes still stacked here and there in the hall. "I mean, first impressions and all that?"

"First impressions." Morgan murmured "of course."

She looked down at herself, and the outfit she'd had chosen for her with a frown. "It's all about the first impression, isn't it?"

Greg strode into the kitchen, where a couple of plates of fried eggs and toast were waiting, along with large glasses of orange juice and milk. One  plate had double the food the other did.

"I mean, you want to make a good first impression right?" Greg said. "After mom went to all the trouble of moving us out here and starting us at a new school? after-- last time."

Morgan glanced at the plates, before sitting down before the smaller plate with a grimace that showed the points of her fangs.

"That wasn't my fault.It..." She looked away. "They shouldn't have pushed me like that."

Greg grabbed a large jar from the counter before he sat down, and brought it to the table, scowling. "Morgan, I didn't say it was your fault. Let's-- lets just not assign blame and just roll with the fresh start, okay?

There was a pleading edge to Greg's usual rough tone, as he took two heaping spoonfuls out of the jar marked 'Pro-tein' and mixed them into his milk.

Morgan leaned on the table with a frown "You really think it's a fresh start, huh?"

Their mother had certainly tried to make it one. Morgan supposed that with their father long out of the picture, and her on constant business trips anyway, it didn’t really matter where they lived. Mom wouldn’t be there 90% of the time anyway. Moving the two of them hundreds of miles from Maine to New York was easy. For her, anyway.

She grabbed her glass of orange juice a little too roughly, and sipped it as some tried to spill off the edge. 

“All that's happened is we were shipped off as far away as Mom could manage because the whole town thinks we're freaks. This place isn't gonna be any different, Greg, no matter how many of my old outfits you set out on my bed." She snorted softly "...they don't even suit my complexion anymore, anyway."

"Your complexion is fine," he insisted, gritting his teeth. "And the whole point is the people here *don't* think we're freaks. We can *fix* this Morgan, if you don't deliberately try to dive bomb the whole thing.

Morgan stared at him, as he shoveled eggs into his mouth between sentences.

 "I'm purple, Greg. White and pale pink make me look washed out." She leaned on her hand, poking at the yolk of an egg with a frown, "...and there's nothing to fix. And even if there was,I don't see why getting me to dress up like I used to is going to do anything. You know that's not me… not anymore."

Greg looked away, and chugged his protein milk. "Morgan, come on, why are you trying to start a fight over this?"

"Because I don't get it, Greg," Morgan told him with a frown. "...I don't get why my first impression at a new school has to be someone I'm not."

She speared the yolk with her fork, frowning deeply "...the whole reason things went so south back home is because nobody wanted to accept the real me."

"That was different, Morgan," Greg insisted. "Here nobody knows.... nobody knows how identical we are, you know? Don't you want a chance for people to just think we're both normal?"

"...we're not normal, Greg. You know that, we both know that."

"But if we play our cards right, nobody else has to know that," he insisted, his fingers tensing into a fist. "Please, Morgan, all I want is this one day to make a good impression and not have everybody around us immediately think we're freaks, okay? Please?"

The tension in his voice was obvious, and he looked at her with piercing, almost desperate gaze.

Morgan met his stare with a smoldering glare for a moment "...."

Her lips quirked into a snarl for a moment before she looked down at her eggs with a sharp sigh; "....One day to make sure I don't ruin your big high school debut, huh? Fine. Whatever."

"Morgan, it's not like tha--" he started to snap and then stopped himself, sagging in the chair, and looking at the floor. "Look... whatever. Do what you want. I'm gonna finish getting ready and head out. Be ready in 15 minutes."

He quickly finished his eggs, leaving the toast, and stood up.

"You got it, Greg." Morgan murmured, finishing her own plate without much enthusiasm. "Let's get ready for a great first day at Giles Corey Memorial High."

000

The ride to school was awkward and quiet in Greg's car-- a nice yellow two-door with black racing stripes that their Mom had gotten him for his 16th birthday. Usually he enjoyed driving, but today Greg had a harder time. He couldn't help glancing over at Morgan as they drove up to the school, wishing he could think of something to say.

‘Every time I open my mouth I dig the hole I’ve gotten myself in with her a little fucking deeper.’ He shook his head. It just wasn't worth it.

At least the car turned a few heads when he pulled into the parking lot.

He took a deep breath as he shouldered his bag, and partially opened the door.

"Mom says it's all set with admin. We've got homeroom first period but I think we're in different rooms."

Morgan glanced at him, her hair now brushed down around her ears, draped over her shoulders. She still hadn't put on her makeup. Greg hoped it wouldn’t hurt her chances with the girls here. 

"Okay." She shouldered her own bag as she pushed the door open and slipped out. "Guess I'll see you at home then. Good luck with your first impression, bro."

With a wan attempt at a smile, she stepped out of the car and sauntered her way towards the front door.

Greg watched her go for a long moment, and then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Please, just let this be one good day."