Penelope flopped onto the couch, satisfied that everything was in place. She had all three remotes, one for the television, one for the cable box, and one for the DVD player. She had her She-Ra boxset, and she had set her DVR to record episodes of Jem that were playing on the Hub. She even had a bowl of almonds and a couple of sodas to last her the entire length of her self-made marathon. Her parents were not at home—her father had received a large donation of books that he had to sort through, and her mother was meeting a potential new client for lunch and then leaving straight from there for a weekend long conference. With the entire house to herself, what could be better than a marathon of two of the greatest 1980s heroines ever to be animated? Nothing, that’s what. At least… that’s what she tried to tell herself.

On other days, Penelope might have felt indifferent or even excited at her parents’ absences, since they would allow her to spend all day doing nothing but indulging in her love of 1980s cartoons. At the very least, she would not have resented both of them for being busy with work, but today she desperately wished one of them was home. She was still shaken from her “battle” with the javelin wielder, the wound in her side an aching reminder that she was lucky to have survived at all. She could not tell either of her parents about the fight, of course, not only because she didn’t want them to be upset that she was hurt but also because she couldn’t tell them that, when not worried about forming her debate team or busy taking care of Minotaur, she was a super powered heroine, Sailor Pasiphae, Senshi of Shame. But, selfish as it was… even if she could not tell them the truth she wanted them to be by her side.

Just as selfishly, she wished Harper was here, not because she could tell her friend about her injury any more than she could tell her parents, but because then she would have someone to sit and talk with her through all of these episodes. She liked to think that she and Harper had a pretty good trade off; Harper had introduced Penelope to a lot of great movies, and in turn Penelope got to introduce Harper to some great cartoons. Right now, though, all she wanted was the company… and sadly, like her parents, Penelope’s friend was busy living her own life, having a great old time (she was sure) at Camp Lakespur. And that was great! The teenager just wished… she could enjoy her time alone, like she usually did, without feeling lonely and vulnerable.

Penelope turned off the television before she even pressed play on the DVD. Instead, she stretched out on the couch, rolling onto her unwounded side. She bit her lips at the pain that flared up all the same and fought back the tears rising in her eyes. She wanted to watch her cartoons; she always found the female leads inspiring and driven, the good versus evil compelling and memorable (if also cheesy and outdated). But with her recent battle… the teenager couldn’t find the same comfort in her childhood heroes as she once did. Penelope wasn’t like Princess Aurora or Jerrica Benton; when she became Sailor Pasiphae, she was no She-Ra or Jem. She wasn’t the center of attention or the locus of power; she didn’t have a supportive group of friends or colleagues to help her when she was feeling bad or needed a hand in a fight. She was neither a princess of power nor truly outrageous. Why, then, had she been chosen at all?

As she closed her eyes, however, another idea came to her. Maybe… maybe just because she transformed the same way those two women did didn’t mean that she had to be like them. To a certain extent, of course, she did—she had to hide her true identity and only fight for right whenever she was transformed. But why couldn’t she be Kimber or Bow, Glimmer or Aja? Why couldn’t she be the supporting role, one of the team who made sure that the lead could do her best? There was no reason why she couldn’t… except that, so far, her powers and skills didn’t seem like they would be of help to anyone. She could try and try, but she didn’t see how anything she did would make a difference. Maybe if she met more Senshi… maybe if she had more practice… maybe she would find a group she could support, a leader for her to follow.

’I’ll do what I’ve got to do… and even if I can’t find a set group like they have, I can still help other Senshi.’ Penelope sat up with this thought resounding in her mind, carefully repositioning herself to where she could see the television again. She hadn't met another Senshi, not yet, but she was certain that it was only a matter of time until she did. She couldn’t help but think she’d come to the aid of any Senshi. Maybe it wasn’t about finding a small, tightly knit team… maybe it was just about seeing all Senshi as a team. It was flustering, to think that she had to participate with others… but as long as she had someone to lead her, to help her, she wasn’t sure it would be all bad.

Content, now, with herself, she turned the television and DVD player on. She-Ra and Jem tried their best, even when they had doubts, and while she would never be like them…that didn’t mean that she shoueldn’t try. She could be a defender of good too; she could, eventually, hopefully, find a group to fight with for what was right. Until then… she would just have to nurse this wound and let someone else do the fighting. That is, until she could go out again… she didn’t intend to shirk her duties, after all. Like it or not, she had been chosen, and she didn’t intend to back down from this fight, even if she wasn’t sure how much good she could do by participating in it.

[[OOC Note:
Participant: Penelope Seneca
Player: Quicksilver the Archangel
Word Count: 1,047 ]