Calista Elise Medley

  First-Year One Student

  Level 2

  XP: 55/100

  HP: 100/100

  EP: 82/100

  RP Status: Hated— -152 RP

  Weakness Lvl 19

  “Good morning, Miss Calista Medley. It is now 6:15 in the morning of October 14th, 2349 in the city of Washington D.C. Happy Utopia Day!”

  Calista had been so engrossed in training that she’d completely forgotten about Utopia Day. It was a galaxy-wide holiday that commemorated the official and legal creation of the Milky Way Utopia.

  She had heard the school HARPs talking about it, but hadn’t paid it much mind, focusing on the next stat or discipline she needed to develop. Harrison had only started letting her spar in training a couple of days ago. If she wanted to prove she was ready for more, she had to get ready for more, requiring extra training and studying.

  Fistborn sadly didn’t give the day off for Utopia Day, but there were planetary flags from all the members of the Utopia hanging throughout most of the hallways, and the coaches wouldn’t have anyone fighting each other during class, instead opting for a CD-Sim. This was a day when any violence— even combat— was very discouraged. It was meant to unite even the worst of enemies.

  Socializers had a huge celebration for Utopia Day. It usually involved a week of conferences, parties, and broadcasts about how much everyone loved each other (when they really didn’t) and ridiculous outfits to represent different species. Calista got a skin tint almost every year, which brought terrible itching and scabbing she’d have to take care of with a lot of Smoothing Cream in her drinks.

  Calista would have to present a united front with the SociaLights, exchanging gifts and pretending to like them, hugging them constantly, and making up things she ‘loved’ about them. The only one that probably enjoyed that day was Elizabeth, since that was the one day Danica and Rebecca treated her nicely and pushed down every urge to bully her.

  The day would conclude with a big family dinner, going to her great-grandmother’s huge mansion with the rest of the Zyben family. Her vindictive and envious aunts and cousins would be around, all of them pretending to love her and spoil her with gifts she didn’t need— new mods, new fabrics she already had, and new tacky jewelry. They’d invite only a few members of her father’s side, but in truth, they didn’t like them that much. Most of them weren’t as popular or overblown as the Zybens, and their top heir would always celebrate with her own family instead of coming over.

  For the first time, Calista wasn’t waking up with intense itching, pinching, burning, or chafing all over her body. She didn’t have sparkled eyes, reshaped brows, or plumped lips. Now she woke up with soreness and aching, but it wasn’t too bad anymore. She was getting used to it.

  Since it was Utopia Day, she thought she could try going to the Mess Hall. She hadn’t gone in weeks, but maybe everyone would be honoring the holiday by not taking advantage of her Hated RP Status. It was 24 hours of people taking a break from Reputation. It was more than she ever got as a Socializer.

  However, before she left for breakfast, she paused and looked down at her bodysuit, tracing her finger along the red accents, then her ‘CM’ necklace, then the orange Guild patches on her sleeves. This day called for more than everyone showing basic courtesy to one another.

  “What are you doing?” Lindsay asked, leaving her slot in the capsule. Her eyes showed question as Calista went into the clothing selection station.

  She didn’t answer as she brought up the holo-interface, swiping and tapping buttons. It took her a bit to finally locate the Editor. “We’re allowed to customize uniforms, right?” she asked.

  “Uh, you can make it orange to represent your Guild. Other than that, you can’t make it pink or anything.”

  “No, I mean the style. Instead of a bodysuit, maybe I can do a kind of dress or old-fashioned suit.”

  “Oh…” Lindsay paused, then her eyes closed, showing as two half-circles as she thought. She opened them when she was done. “The bylaws don’t say anything against that… so I guess you can. You just can’t do any other colors other than red, white, blue, and orange.”

  “Works for me.” Calista sat in the chair in the closet, bringing up the Editor. There were few things she enjoyed as a Socializer: dancing and designing. She was the main designer of the channel, Rebecca only taking over when she was too busy choreographing. She loved what she could do with fashion, turning the modern, boring bodysuits into something barely ever seen.

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  Utopia Day— the Utopia was officially signed into existence in the late 2100s, so maybe she could go off of designs from back then. She’d been using pre-Utopian era frameworks for too long. They were nice, but she had tired of the same styles that the fans insisted on. It was almost as if they yearned to go back in time to that era.

  Ironic, considering they constantly criticized and demonized their ancestors to the point that ‘human’ was a dirty word. She was getting used to hearing it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  “I’m not going to the Mess Hall,” Calista said, getting to work in the closet.

  Task Acquired: Redesign Uniform— Possible RP

  “Uh… I don’t think you have time,” Lindsay said with light anxiety.

  “Trust me, I have time. I’ll be done faster than I’ll eat.”

  ===

  Calista kept true to her word, finishing the redesigned uniform with time to spare for breakfast. Since she wasn’t working from scratch, it was much faster than usual, not to mention the drive working behind her fingers as she flitted them across the holograms. She hadn’t felt as excited to design an outfit in a while.

  She showed up to her Warm-Up period in a blue jacket with a touch zipper, the word ‘FISTBORN’ printed on the back in white-rimmed, red letters. Her Guild patches glowed proudly on her sleeves. The pants were red, with markings of blue and white glowing to form bald eagles— the school’s mascot— and the ‘FBA’ logo. The pants hardened at the bottom into white shoes that were comfy and malleable. Her hair was in its usual high ponytail, but now had softly-glowing ribbons of red, white, and blue streaking through it. It was very 22nd Century.

  The best part: she didn’t wear her ‘CM’ necklace. After nearly two years, she finally stopped letting that gold chain enslave her neck, leaving it bare and free. There was no need for her to fidget with it; she was too confident to be anxious.

  For the first time since she’d started at the academy, she was happy to have everyone’s eyes on her. It reminded her of when she used to enjoy the attention as a Socializer, when she was very young. She’d slowly begun to revile it over the years as her mother controlled her further, parading her around like a dance monkey for everyone to fawn over for her benefit.

  This time, though, Calista wanted them to admire her. She was catching their gazes through something she created and she loved, without any interference or ‘suggestions’ from anyone else.

  She could tell from some of the smirks that people wanted to criticize or mock, but felt a delicious satisfaction knowing they couldn’t. If anyone had to honor the sanctity of Utopia Day, it was the fighters. They were the ones that were supposed to keep the Utopia united.

  Belinda Adenifi rose from the floor, pausing her stretches, as her brows raised in surprise. She smiled at Calista and approached, her short brown hair in a low bun. The hairstyle revealed a second Martian attribute she’d inherited— really flat, pointy ears.

  “How’d you do that?” she asked.

  “The Editor in my Station,” Calista told her proudly.

  “That’s amazing. You did all this yourself?” Belinda stepped back, giving her a once-over. “I should try this. Happy Utopia Day, by the way.”

  “Bel, come on.” Her fellow Guild-mates waved her over.

  “You want to come stretch with us?” the Mearthian girl offered.

  “Uh…” Calista looked over at the other two girls wearing silver Guild patches. One looked a bit friendly, but the other had a grimace on her face, as if silently pleading for Calista to reject the offer. She probably didn’t want to have to force herself to be polite to a ‘Hated’ Rep student.

  So, naturally, Calista accepted it.

  +3 RP

  +5 Rel-P

  Approaching Soft Friend Status

  The coaches pretended not to notice Calista’s uniform when they called the class to its usual line, but Calista caught a couple of them stealing curious glances. As they battled their CD-Sims, there were a few male students that turned to stare, giving them some punches and kicks to wake them up from their distraction, followed by a chastising from one of the coaches.

  Calista continued her usual routine of studying during breaks and concentrating fully on her tasks, but she was loving the attention. Teamwork class was the best; Harrison had kept his unblinking sapphires upon her as she sashayed into the gym, requiring Lílitha to reach up and snap him out of it. A few of the nicer, quieter students in the class directly offered Calista their compliments.

  Rosalina had initially stared in surprise, but gave a small eye-roll before going back to ignoring her. Being a Hajjian, it was no surprise she wouldn’t pretend to like someone just for Utopia Day. Hillary, on the other hand, initially sneered, but upon seeing such approval from the others, instantly soured. She spent the rest of class with her face contorted in an irritated frown, knowing she wouldn’t be able to launch her usual barrage of insults this time.

  Calista’s joy and confidence was radiating as she walked the halls with her new uniform, tossing her ponytail every now and then. Her Reputation Points were now fluctuating, gaining more points than losing them as students whispered compliments among themselves.

  +4 RP

  -2 RP

  +4 RP

  +3 RP

  -4 RP

  +5 RP

  Her Status was now switching between ‘Ridiculed’ and ‘Hated’, crossing the threshold of -150 RP every few minutes. Calista didn’t know her outfit would be that impactful, but she was glad it was.

  At Lunch period, she arrived at the Mess Hall for the first time in weeks. She smiled at the looks she was getting, not meeting anyone’s eyes, not even Harrison’s from across the large room, eyeing her from the Student Coach table. She found herself marching right over to the empty orange table that matched the color of her patches.

  The first Kappa member to sit down at this table in four years.

  She heard the murmur and gasping from everyone as they watched her settle down and order her meal; a rich roast beef with mashed potatoes and vegetables on the side, accompanied by a strawberry milkshake. She’d adhere to her prescribed diet, but she was allowed her favorite drinks, at the very least.

  She pretended to be oblivious to the attention, studying as she usually did on her AIDA band. It was less comfortable than the Studitorium, but it was better than nothing. Soon, her focus fell away from her surroundings and the Reputation pop-ups, concentrating solely on the information about Earthian-based disciplines and weapons she had yet to master.