If someone had ever asked him what sort of thing he’d expect to waltz into his life and change it completely he wouldn’t have -ever- said a cat. Cats were supposed to be cute little things that people got because they wanted something small and fuzzy to curl up in their lap that didn’t yip all the time. They weren’t supposed to talk and turn your life upside down and tell you that you were something more than a normal teenager. At least the cat had been cute which didn’t really make things better but they certainly didn’t make it worse.

It did mean though that he wouldn't have to worry about those creepy monster things attacking him and not being able to defend himself. Doing that once was enough for a lifetime. He still wasn’t sure he understood everything though. Super powers, connection to another world, something about being reborn, protecting the universe … it was all complicated and it didn’t seem like anyone really had all the answers. This pissed him off a bit in various ways. If you were going to do things like this to innocent kids then you should at least make sure you have the answers.

They hadn’t even given the authorities the answers either. There were still news reports every night about sightings of the terrorists and the damage they or the monsters caused. Now he was one of them too. He hadn’t been sure what to think of the reports, whether they really were terrorists or something else was going on like the conspiracy nuts at school liked to say, and here he was now shoved directly into the mess of it all. Someone should have at least told the government what was going on so they could do one of their wonderful little cover-ups or –something-.

But they hadn’t been told. No one had been told. They’d just been left in the dark wondering when some monster would crash into their home or into their lives and take away their sense of balance in the world. He’d been like that too. Thinking that ‘oh it won’t happen to me’ until one of those monsters had tried to eat him in the street and some guy in a weird outfit had shown up and dusted it.

His life had been perfectly normal until that day and then it had happened again only –he- was the guy in the weird outfit protecting himself and there was no one around who could really give him answers. There was just a city full of people who, if they knew, would clamor for him to go to jail or worse and wouldn’t believe him that a cat had done this and it was for their protection.

It was bullshit.

Bullshit that someone should do something about. That meant he should do something about it since no one else had yet which probably meant that no one else was going to.

That was it then. He’d just have to find a way to turn the ‘terrorist’ into the super hero’s they were supposed to be.

That was something for a later day though. For now he had to deal with his own preconceptions about this Senshi business.

He lay back in his bed and twirled the small dark green pen that the feline had given to him. It was neat looking at least. The color was nice and there was a spider etched into the gold on the top. The feline had shown him how it worked, and what it turned him into, and then left. “Sailor Arachne huh …. Well at least I still have absolutely ******** amazing fashion sense even like that.” Of course the first thing he’d done, once out of danger at least, was check over the ‘costume’ that he’d appeared in.

He laughed softly to himself as he continued to twirl the pen. “Guess that makes me the real spiderman too. Who’d have thought?" His smirk widened as he balanced the transformation pen in his hand. Lysander Cadwell wasn't the sort of person you'd think of first when casting for someone to save the world. Which, oddly, was something that happened a lot in comics but he wasn't even -that- sort of 'not right person'. Sure he stood up for a lot of things, world peace included, but he'd always been on the non-violent end of it. He didn't like fighting (it was so much more fun to 'love' people) and now he was supposed to fight hideous monsters and who knows what else to protect the universe.

Okay maybe that was a lie.

He'd gotten violent a few times but generally he kept his nasty outbursts to verbal things than physical fighting. He might mess up his pretty face ...

"... Oh god ... that's going to happen a lot." He groaned and rolled over to bury his face into the pillows he'd been laying on. "I'm so going to kick whoever's responsible for this when i find them." He grumbled to himself. He was going to have to fight things and that would mean he'd get battered and bruised.

How would he explain that to his adoring fans?

Well he was amazing so he'd just have to think of something. Or he'd have to find others to work for him to get beat up so he didn't have to. You couldn’t change the world looking like the victim of horrible violence, well maybe you could but HE wasn’t going to do that. If his face was going to end up in the newspaper or in magazines it was going to look amazing.

“Getting ahead of myself though. First it should be looking for those ‘others’ who can take hits for me and who can tell me what the hell is going on.”