What's in a Name?

Eventually Doctor Benjamin Maddox Beaux and Angela return, with the woman human-sized and dressed in her velcro clothes again.

“Hello,” The busty blonde wolf woman seems super relaxed, “You're,” that pause again, “Iron Fox, right?”

“Oh, you like, recognize me?” The woman from LA smiles, “I'm famous! Umm… what's with the pause?”

“I,” Angela pauses again, “have been learning to suppress the… verbal ticks from the doctor's cure.” She tilts her head, “But otherwise it like, gets rid of my accent?” She catches herself, and snaps her fingers.

“So like, where are you from, then?” Iron Fox smiles.

“I… am not sure I should say,” Werhure cringes. “Before the doctor cured the madness for me, I did some things in my homeland that… may have the police after me.”

“So like, what side effects are we talking about?” The armored woman inquires.

“You… obviously know first-hand…” the not precisely lycanthrope furrows her brow.

“I've like, never met the doctor before today…” Irene joins Werhure in the expression.

“I did not cause her state,” Benjamin confirms, “as far as I know, Ms. Fox comes by the accent, hair, and the rest legitimately.”

“So, like, what are the side effects?” Irene looks at the doctor.

“I suppose it's best to get it out now…” Dr. Beaux shrugs, “The pink energy I convert can fix nearly anything, even old age and recent ****, but it turns whoever it touches into a busty blonde woman with a high libido, a desire for muscular men, a ‘valley girl’ accent, a desire to show off her body, and such. The mental effects fade with time, the physical ones don't.”

Ms. Fox blinks, “Like, I already have all that,” she pauses, “will it do anything to me?”

Doctor Bimbo purses his lips, “Possibly not. When applied to Cowgirl it just gives her the accent, which she can suppress herself after a few minutes. The most it will do to you is enhance those traits.”

The woman considers, “I like, wouldn't be upset at a few more cup sizes… hit me.”

“Are you sure?” Doctor Beaux looks into Irene's eyes.

“It's, like, for science,” Irene smiles, “besides, we'll totally need to know eventually anyway, right?”

“I suppose so,” the doctor nods, “All right…” he reaches over and touches Irene's face, applying as little energy as he can manage, avoiding her suit for now, not wanting to think too much about what would happen to the puppy-like entity.

The armored woman loses a handful of freckles as her eyes bulge slightly, “Like, wow, that feels good,” she pauses, “Samson, ah… ‘pilot status check’.” The creature forms a mask over Iron Fox's face, and a minute later retracts it, “Report says I'm basically the same? Like, I lost a few scars and some freckles, but I have the same cup size, waist line, and everything… I feel really energized, but apparently the ‘mild stimulant’ from my morning coffee is gone from my bloodstream. The like, doctor type scans can't find any side effects worth mentioning?”

“You're more attuned to it than even cowgirl, then,” Dr. Bimbo nods.

“Hang on,” the LA girl scrunches up her face, “Are you calling me a bimbo?”

Benjamin rolls his eyes, “I'm saying you have a specific set of traits that line up sufficiently well with my power that you're essentially unchanged. It means I can heal and boost you without consequence, as long as I don't also hit Sampson.”

‘That’s a yes…’ Fantasia thinks to herself.

“Oh… well okay then,” Iron Fox nods, “Oh, and like… do we have a team name?”

“Not yet…” Dr. Beaux shakes his head, “We've been focusing on getting everyone together first.”

“Valkire Squadron, maybe?” Irene rubs her chin, the material of her suit getting out of the way to make skin to skin contact possible, “Because we're like, all women.”

“I'm a man,” Dr. Beaux almost growls in his soprano voice through his beesting lips, his long blonde hair spilling out of his helmet, the curves of his body visible despite the armored trench coat.

“Uh huh,” Ms Fox rolls her eyes, “And you don't so much as cut your hair why?”

Rather than answering verbally, the doctor pulls out a pocket knife, flips the blade open, and cuts his hair at his neck, pulling away a good two feet of long blonde locks, handing that entire head of hair to Irene. He then reaches back, grabs his hair again, and cuts it at his neck again… cutting off another full head's worth of two feet of blonde locks, handing them to Ms Fox.

As Benjamin reaches back to cut it again, the Iron Fox speaks up, holding her hands up (still full of the doctor's hair) “Sorry! Sorry, I didn't, like, know it wasn't an option.”

Dr. Beaux takes a deep breath, “My power insists on keeping my body in a specific state. Meditation allows me enough self-control to patch up the mental effects, but my body is this. Anything that would change me away from it, including injury, is immediately neutralized. I try to keep a good supply of power handy at all times, but if my power happens to be exhausted, it will steal the life **** of anything or anyone nearby until it can fix me up. I have **** in what or who under those circumstances: My power will eat friends, foes, or innocent bystanders to keep me alive, free, and intact as THIS.”

“So… like we shouldn't put you on the front lines, then?” Iron Fox tilts her head, “Good to know.”

Benjamin takes a slow breath, “On the plus side, I can donate life **** to other people from those same reserves, which fixes people up, including from recent ****… with the side effects already noted. So I suppose before we ever get in a fight, I should ask: Who all is okay with the side effects, and does anyone want to register a ‘do not resuscitate’ order with me?”

“Well, I don't like, even notice, so feel free to heal me up from whatever whenever,” Iron Fox rolls her eyes.

“You know exactly why I want this,” Fantasia chuckles, “I am ABSOLUTELY in.”

“I'm already,” the wolf-lady pauses, “living with it. More isn't going to bother me. And yes, I want to live.”

“Duly noted,” Benjamin nods.

The wolf lady tilts her head, “If we're all,” she pauses again, “going to come back from the grave… maybe ‘The Immortals’?”

“A little on the nose…” the doctor considers.

“The Grays, maybe,” Ms. Blackheart rubs her chin, “after ‘The Portrait of Dorian Gray’ - let people think we duplicated his feat, and have them go looking for paintings that don't exist.”

“That totally sounds like we're aliens,” Irene shakes her head, “But I kinda like the direction? ‘The Gray Guardians’, maybe?”

“I can live with that,” the doctor nods.

“Definitely workable,” Blackheart manages a smile.

“We,” the wolf pauses, “have it, then. ‘The Gray Guardians’ it is.”

The heroes then go over their documents and start in in the paperwork….