Prologue

Disclaimer:

         This is the origin story of the Rainbow Riveter, of the forging of friendships and the construction of alliances, and of the first battles in her fight to free the populace of Poveymont from the rule of The Captain, his CLInIC, and his Crew. Some names have been changed here to protect the innocent; the true name of the Rainbow Riveter, however, has not been.

         Despite the risk that choice may create for retaliation or recrimination against our beloved Riveter, this reporter’s decision has been made for two reasons. First, as is usually the case for a superhero or heroine, she’s hardly an innocent in all of this (and seems quite capable of protecting herself, to be entirely honest); second, this is Jozi’s story, so it would hardly do to go and give someone else the credit.

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- Prologue -

         Jozi had been sitting in the same place on her bathroom counter for the last forty-five minutes, and despite the biochem notes in front of her (or perhaps because of her struggles with them), she was starting to feel a bit squirrelly. She closed the notebook and reached up toward the mess of towels on her head, but stopped herself at the last minute- Marnee would be ticked if she ruined all of her hard work, and Jozi generally preferred to avoid ticking people off. You know, unless it’d be funny.

         That being said, there’s nothing particularly funny about sabotaging hours of work done to one’s own hair, so Jozi sat on her hands and tried to be patient; she’d endured a few hours of brushing and trimming and dying already (not to mention all the effort she and Marnee had gone to in ensuring their suite’s bathroom was entirely hair- and dye-proof for the entire process), she could probably survive a few more minutes of waiting for the dye to handle its shit.

         Still, just because she could, that didn’t necessarily mean she had to. “Hey, Ems” she called into the common room they shared, “I should be good to go by now, right?”

         Marnee’s response was swift and unyielding. “Two minutes, forty-three seconds.”

         In spite of her frustration, Jozi had to grin- that was Marnee M. Masen1, mistress of self-discipline and precise down to the second. This dedication and resolve (along with her mad sick nasty coding skills) were why Elon Musk was paying her the big bucks to go program rocket launches at SpaceX and Jozi still had no idea what she was going to do when the semester ended. As best friends and roommates go, Jozi felt hers was pretty great.

         So Jozi waited for two minutes and forty-nine seconds, and when Marnee came back into the bathroom to carefully unravel the towels on her friend’s head and remove the protective shower cap, they were both so excited to see how things had come out that Jozi forgot her wait completely. Marnee left the bathroom again and Jozi jumped into the shower, dancing beneath the nozzle until the water falling from her body ran clear. After drying her hair thoroughly, Jozi inspected the towel for any lingering traces of dye. Seeing none, she wrapped it around her body and pulled back the shower curtain. The girl she found in the mirror had a head full of rainbows.

         Hearing an audible gasp from the bathroom, Marnee went to check out her handiwork, but was interrupted by Jozi’s running out to hug/slightly tackle her. Frantically waving her arms through Jozi’s grip, Marnee caught her footing and managed to keep both girls upright. Stepping back, she cocked her head and took a close look at her friend’s new hair colors.

         “Omigod, Jozi” she squealed, “it looks amazing! You look amazing!”

         Grinning madly, Jozi squeezed Marnee tight again, saying, “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” over her shoulder.

         “I’m so glad you love it,” her friend replied, squeezing back. They separated, and Marnee stared down at the large, damp circle Jozi’s towel had left on her top. “But maybe go put on some clothes?”

         “Okay.”

Footnotes
1  You can see why her friends called her Ems. Jozefa McKendall, meanwhile, is a name its owner was quite content to condense into Jozi.