Today.

After the war, my right foot was Surgerized and replaced with Laila's, and her heart, lungs, and spinal cord were all replaced with invincible robotic inventions of doom that Willa made in one of her mad scientist frenzies...she looks very Dresden Codak now. I try to urge her to dress up that way for the Boston Comic Con, but in her maturity, she says we don't have time to go to it anyway, let alone create new costumes solely for the purpose...

Fog rolls in around the supermarket, and some vampyre-zombies spill out. They are bloodthirsty and indestructible. A good morning warmup before we go on our rounds to keep earth safe from real problems. Becca is trying out her new disappearing trick: "I learned it from the weeping angels!" And vanishes through the hide of a zombie by touching his sleeve. Amanda travels down to the training center (AKA old abandoned supermarket) on a Megaski, which is a ski-snowboard hybrid that actually works pretty well on the icy ground. Mary and Amanda start chatting about new boarding tricks and how many people have died at Ski Bowl recently. Laila huffs, "Guys, let's try to keep on track here! We have a tight schedule today!" Becca, bouncing over excitedly, offers to show me her new trick-- and all at once I am zapped into a small antique store.

The sign says OPEN on this side, so they must be closed. I move to open the door and leave, but it is locked. A voice behind me says, "Can I help you?" I mumble something about the door being locked, and the woman says, "Once we lock the front door for the night, there's no leaving that way. There's a back door that leads out past the shed. Bo can show you out." She gestures to a black curtain, and I walk through the storage area to find good sir Bo smashing little glass figurines with an axe. There are piles of mutilated dolls everywhere...barbies and raggedy anns and action figures and little ballerinas, all smashed and melting in piles around the raging bulldog of a man. Behind him, people wander down eternally stretching aisles with empty carts in a sort of trance. A sales clerk notices me, and intercepts my path, vacant smile and hollow eyes turned on me with a menacing force that screams I should get out of here.

"Are you lost, child?" She stretches her arms out towards me, and I leap backward to avoid their touch. I can almost hear a hissing sound coming from her skin...The shoppers start breaking out of the trance in multitudes, reaching their arms toward me. I fly up to the ceiling and focus on the lone window on the opposite wall, gathering my strength. In one great leap, I clear the heads of the shopping zombies and prepare to smash through the glass, fists curled, thumbs protected-- but the glass does not break.

The window is a fake. It rebounds like rubber and throws me to the ground, and the long arms of the shoppers envelop me. The clerk woman smiles as they lift me up. "A vandal in our store simply will not do. We must bring her to the manager..."

They throw me in my old middle school classroom. The teacher is lecturing on black holes. A kid makes a joke and he kicks him out the window, saying, "You've just lost the chance to attend here for the next four years! We're the last school in fifty miles, so you better think your future over carefully! There'll be no protection for you out there without a degree!" The principle (also the teacher), then looks at me with a stern glare. "New student, eh? Take a seat. You've a lot to learn."

Instead, I take my opportunity and leap out the window after the boy. Together, we forge our way back into his principle dream world, then I sneak back through some subliminal tunnels to my own. Thankfully, the crew is still practicing and don't really notice I've been gone (though it's kinda annoying, too)...

We discuss adding new members to the group, and what our name should be. We could use the initials of our real names to create something, but at the moment we've got a B, H, L, A, and M, and that makes for a rather limited range of choices. BAMLH? LAMBH? HAMBL? Not very attractive sounding.

We've already rejected the idea of joining a group like the Teen Titans or Young Justice League, because we aren't quite that talented or coordinated yet, and because our medium is mostly dream justice, and those supers usually deal with trials occurring in spheres closer to the real world and its succeeding tiers of fantasy realms. This stuff is more complicated than we first thought...

Thus ends a normal day in dreamland.