Meeting "Red Weather Balloon"

For far from the first time, you feel a sort of incredulity mingled with mild resentment at the fact that this city seems to have a never-ending supply of young women combining superhuman powers and/or resources with magazine-cover-worthy bodies. Even though the highest-tier of the League had a slight variance in female body-types (tall and muscular but with huge assets (Maiden A), completely statistically average with slight pudge (Mood Ring), short and flat-chested (Petit Mort), lithe and athletic with modest curves (Beast Beauty) and only a single member falling into the 'porn star figure' category (Raven Woman), the rotating cast of the C and B-ranks seemed to have about as many of those as everyone else put together. No doubt many of those seeing you in the papers or the membership rolls for the first time had the same disdainful thought about you.

"Hey Mort," you say. "'Private whisper' for you here. You're the League's greatest scientist, right? Have you ever been able to establish a causal link between having underwear model measurements and becoming active as a superheroine or villain? Is the League responsible in a roundabout way for a rash of empty strip clubs around the rest of the country?"

Mort glances at you and scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I am a *physicist*, you pop-culture spoonfed dodo. You are the one who studied criminal psychology. I do not have time for any of zat self-indulgent navel-gazing pabulum. I should be asking YOU that question. If you ever find a scientifically verifiable answer - and do remember that I also have no patience for the childish practice of ironic insincerity - please do inform me."

Floating down in front of you is a woman about your height but probably a bit heavier - for all the right reasons, as far as the typical horndog gawking at superheroines would say. Except for a neon red bob-cut hairstyle peeking out through the front, her head is covered by a red helmet, and she is wearing a black space-age styled, full-sleeved leotard covering her eye-catching chest and hourglass waist, with white gloves and highlights, made out of stretchy, shiny latex instead of spandex or other fabric. The thing was so tight that it made a faint but audible (to you) squeaking sound each time she moved, along with allowing and encouraging a visible bounce. Her posterior was on the big and round side, to put it mildly, with a pleated red schoolgirl-style skirt so short it barely covered the buns when she was standing, nevermind bending over in the slightest. The main one-piece outfit had a zipper running down the front, and seemed to be designed to be zipped up from top to bottom rather than the usual bottom up - and that zipper extended all the way down and around the backside, with the brass pull dangling on the back side of her hips. Her look was completed by bright-red thigh-high boots made of that same rubber.

"He-llooooooo~" her voice may be the squeakiest thing you've ever heard, putting you in mind of a cartoon character. "You've already met Snowflake, right? Yayy! Oh, that outfit is just amazing on you! If you're who I think you might be, hee hee hee, then you're a really super-tough girl! I mean, except for all the times you've FUCKED UP massively!" She pauses for a second as your face freezes awkwardly. "Juust kidding of course." she says, wiggling her nose at you and pursing her lips.

Unlike Dr. Rainbow, who is demurely bringing up the rear, this new red-haired girl is trying painfully hard to be 'cute' rather than letting it come naturally, and a practiced ear like yours detects a tone of teasing, barely-hidden hostility. You had known a lot of girls like that in high school - honestly, you'd sort of been one, and that wasn't a good thing. You silently hope you are just being jealous and prejudicial as you reach out to offer her a handshake.

"Yes, that's right. You can call me ThunderBird." you say, strongly enunciating the last half of that. "Your name sucks, Mort." you add semi-silently so that only the scientist can hear. "HANH!" she laughs back at you arrogantly from under her veil. "You're naming yourself after a brand of cheap, tasteless wine designed to be enjoyed by thugs and vagrants? How appropriate."

Damn it - you need to stop trying to snark at Petit Mort, she is much better at it than you are. You focus back on the walking pin-up poster in front of you. "And you are...?"

"The Red Weather Balloon! Beginning my 'rise', hee hee hee, to the top and a new chapter in a legacy, just like a certain bird-themed chick was trying to do until her mysterious and slightly scandalous early retirement." she says, waggling her hips from side to side and watching eagerly to see if she could get a rise out of you.

"Weather Balloon?" you ask curiously, knitting your brow as you think for a moment. "That sounds familiar. I think I remember hearing Green Streak bragging about fighting you a few years back? Don't tell me - you used to be on the other side...?"

"NO! Ugh! He-lloooooo, jumping to conclusions much?" She folds her arms over her chest and pouts at you. "That was my father, if you must know! He's in an airtight cell at an undisclosed maximum security location, as he belongs! I am just trying to get out from under all of the stigma and, and prejudice surrounding me just because of an accident of birth!" she sniffles theatrically.

"By taking on his identity and moniker...?" you ask, lip twitching towards a smile, but then you catch yourself, take a deep breath and clasp your hands together. "I mean - of course, that is a really noble calling! I think we could all agree there's nothing more noble and hopeful than a legacy or a set of powers being transformed form evil into a **** for good. I saw you floating a little back there, I'm guessing you have the same control over wind thing going on as he did?"

"Oh yes," she giggles, "I reeeeeally don't mean to brag but I'm quite powerful~ Honestly I was wasted doing little patrols in the streets, I'm best suited to being on a team that's only called out for the biiig threats that the typical crowd of kung fu enthusiast vigilantes running around in their dark alleys at night just can't handle, hee hee hee!"

"Awwww," Dr. Rainbow breaks in, giving Weather Balloon a hug on the shoulder. "Isn't she just the nicest girl you've ever met, Nightin- I, I mean ThunderBird? We'll be able to rescue so many innocents, combining our talents like this, and maybe we'll help bring public attention to climate-related issues, too! I'm just so happy to have you as a leader and such wonderful new partners that I could burst like a balloon...! Oh, ohhh," her color-shifting eyes suddenly crinkle and she puts a gloved hand to her dainty lips. "That sounded hurtful to my new partner. I'm so, soooo sorry. Snowflake spent over an hour yesterday explaining the importance of avoiding micro-aggressions. But it seems like I'm going to need a lot more guidance and constructive criticism. I don't mean to make you responsible for my own failings, Snowflake, but I hope you'll find it in your heart to continue helping me!"

Some part of you knows that you shouldn't pass swift judgement on others or dismiss them too quickly, but another part of you is inwardly shaking your head and musing that these two bitches (actually, Mort is effectively part of the team too, isn't she? make that three bitches) are going to walk all over Dr. Rainbow if they get the chance. It's a good thing she's got you here to look after her.