Summary: We all know Erika Rose Tachibana as the former villain-brat and current registered hero and honorary Thunderman (more or less), but how did she get here? What sort of parenting could lead to someone like Portal? How did her parents meet and why would they divorce? When did her powers develop? Who got her addicted to sitcoms? This is the early childhood of Erika "The Soulless Demon Puppet" Tachibana, from birth, to going evil, to the creation of her hero identity and subsequent guardian reassignment. Welcome to Years of the Villain-Brat.
4 years pE (pre-Erika)
02:42am
Paris, France
Sleek red lips quirked up as the guards collapsed, foaming at the mouth. The woman hadn't been sure of the latest mixture, but it looked like the field test was a success. Green heels clicked gently as she stepped over the spasming bodies and started down the hall. This was almost too easy. Get a lackey to play around with the security system, pump her new drug cocktail through the already sabotaged vents, and then claim her prize.
And what a prize it was! Lightly colored eyes glinted in pleasure as she passed another guard, this one slumped over a table. In general, she preferred not to steal objects as much as money or information. They were a pain to transport and rarely sold easily unless a buyer was already lined up.
This, however, she would not sell.
No.
It was hers!
Turning a final corner, the brunette stopped in front of an inconspicuous, unmarked door. Opening it, she glared at the mops and buckets. She'd never liked cleaning. Various products clattered and sloshed as she threw them out of her way, looking for-
There!
With a small, satisfied noise, the woman pressed a tiny indent in the lower corner of the wall. It was an almost unnoticeable imperfection, but she was sure that was by design. With a click, the wall slid open, revealing a darkened staircase. Giving in to excitement, she ran down the stairs, sure that her contact had disabled any safety measures. She paid him well and he knew better that to piss her off, now of all times.
The woman arrived at another door, this one the solid metal of a vault. She was here, it was just beyond this last obstacle. She felt her breath speed up as she typed in the access code. This was the result of months of effort, sleepless nights and violent interrogations, but she'd finally tracked it down! The door swung open, and the woman stepped into the spacious vault.
There, maybe ten feet away, was her prize. She stepped into the vault, eyes never leaving the tiny box resting on the table.
"Finally," she whispered, jade eyes gleaming, "you. Are. Mine."
"Not quite," came the emotionless reply.
The brunette spun around, green eyes meeting all-consuming blackness.
09:59am
Paris, France
With a start, the woman woke. Long-fingered hands rose to her aching head, trying to sooth the pounding inside her skull. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was going for-
With a gasp, the brunette sprung out of bed, searching the room desperately. It had to be here! It HAD to be!
It wasn't. She was alone in a hotel room. Whoever had left her here had taken her treasure.
Wilting Rose screamed in agony, tearing through the room as if it was possible to hurt that man by breaking everything else.
She would find him, she swore. He would pay for this slight. His life was hers!
Her back to it, Rose couldn't see as the cracked screen of the television briefly flashed white.