It was a few days after the Undersiders fight and we sat in the briefing room again, all arranged around the very far end of the table. Armsmaster paced at the tables head, cursing and spitting at the bureaucrat on the other end of the phone.
"I don't care what they say, you fucking idiot, I say that it's necessary! You get back onto them and file that damn requisition form!"
He hung up and turned back to us. "Right. We've run it through our people, and what we wrung out of the Empire 'hostages' is true. What the Undersiders stole was the location of safe houses and supply caches; soft targets. Then they apparently sold the information to the ABB, who have been hitting said targets. Obviously," he ground out, continuing his pacing. "This is exacerbating the conflict, and we can only conclude that Coil is attempting to incite the gang war to greater heights. To what end, we are not yet sure, but his rating has been bumped up from C to B and the Undersiders from D to C. The Empire and ABB will retain their current threat rating of A, and we will not be receiving backup."
Dauntless let his hand drop, from where it had been propping up his head, onto the table. "How many extra shifts?"
"Double," Armsmaster glared at him like he was being insolent. "From all of you. Wards, that means you, too. Tell your parents you'd love to help out more and we can give you more half days at school so you can run more public appearances. Dark Smoke," he whipped a hand to point at me. "Has your song been checked over?"
I nodded.
"Good, you're going to be performing it. We want all the Wards to be at the 'Movies in the Park' event tomorrow, you know the drill. Happy smiles," he waved his hand dismissively. "Everything is under control. There is nothing to fear."
"I'll make sure we're all there," said Carlos.
"Good, rope in that lazy Browbeat while you're at it," Armsmaster turned to the adult side of the table. "Assault, a quick rundown on your latest report."
"Right," Carlos whispered, glancing at Armsmaster to make sure he didn't disrupt him. "You're all good to be there, right? I'll tell him you were if you can't make it."
"I want to skip it," Missy whispered back. "I have friends over this weekend."
"I'll make a clone of you for the press shots," I said, leaning in. "He'll never know."
"Ooh, could you?"
"Sure can," I grinned.
Dennis reached over, tapping my arm. "Hey, make one for me too, I don't want to sit around watching some kiddy movie for hours."
"Yeah, ok, it's just that they can't talk at once so if I'm having my Vista one talk I can't have yours say anything. And they can't be too far away from me or people will walk into the strings. And I'll be busy all night so it'll be pretty obvious if both of you are statues half the time, two's going to have to be the limit."
I couldn't micromanage six clones at once, not at my current level. Maybe in the far off future when I could make fully independent clones.
"You'll be fine, Dennis," Carlos said. "Just come for a bit, then leave when the movie starts."
"Whatevs."
"I'm fine to be there the whole time," Chris said.
"I'll be there, too," said Dean.
"Cool, that'll make them happy. We can leave early anyway, so, just token appearances."
We all nodded our agreement, but I was still going to be there the entire time and max out my popularity gains. Everyone knew that children were the biggest consumers, and if I was popular amongst that demographic it would be fantastic for my career to have that kind of household appeal. No longer would it be my fault that I wasn't popular.
Pointless though it may be in a world heading for the apocalypse, I still wanted to try. To give up would lead to stagnation; stagnation was death. Nothing was as dangerous to me as mediocrity. Mediocrity would lead me on a steady path back to where I used to be, before powers, before maturing and, before learning that I could be whoever I wanted. Mediocrity was a pit, stagnation the crabs. Not giving up was the only ladder out.
For me now, the climb was all there was.
My Mana Disguise spell benefited from [Multitask], like my camouflage spell, rendering it far cheaper than it had been. At this point, I could have it on just about all day without risking running out, and it was no longer dispelled by someone bumping into me too hard. Today, I had taken on the guise of an ambiguously Hispanic teenager with brown hair and eyes, still obviously quite buff, but with a bit of extra fat and a gut to round out my size a little. The reason for my disguise? We were going Taylor hunting.
It wasn't going very well.
"Do you think this would fit me?" Victoria held up a dress to Amy and me, turning left and right with it pressed up against her.
Amy shrugged.
"She's not going to be at the mall, even on a weekend," I said. The dress did fit her, and it would have looked amazing. "She's probably still asleep."
"Duh," said Victoria. "We're still in the planning phase, which is why we're in the last place she'll ever be."
"What plan do we need? We just introduce ourselves and be friendly, then over time we influence her away from being crazy."
"' Be prepared', boy scout," she put the dress back on the rack. "We need to know how we're going to do this. What's our approach? How do we open? What is she into so we can properly ingratiate ourselves? You might be able to wing it, but we don't know her."
"Fair point," I said. "You need a soft approach, if you push at all she'll close up and back away. If she starts being extra quiet and awkward, you should probably stop and try again later. Try not to frame anything as 'high school', in fact, don't even mention school because she won't respond well. If it has to come up, say that school sucks and the teachers are all idiots."
Victoria nodded seriously, one hand on her hip, the other stroking her chin.
"Don't push her on that she's doing the wrong thing either, she's very convinced she's in the right and you might ruin your chances if you say that too early. Try talking about capes, or classical literature, or how much you hate the gangs and drugs-"
"Fuck me, she sounds horrible," cut in Amy. "How much effort are you going to put into this chick? This shit could take you years."
"I have to fix this, it's my fault."
"Is it though?" she continued. "Sounds more like it was that other girl's fault, and Taylor was already crazy to begin with. You're a complete retard, but all you need to do is apologise."
"No," I said, staring at our feet. "I have to reconcile this."
It was the only way I could truly move forward. It was the last shackle holding me to the corpse of my previous self. With Taylor helped, equilibrium could be reached and I could be happy. It was representative, I had moved forward and Taylor had regressed; both due to my actions. Without this I would always have that reminder, that regret sitting in the back of my head, leaving me unable to truly move forward out of the crab pit.
Taylor was my last rung.
"He's right, Ames. Sometimes there are just things you have to do if you want to be a hero."
"I don't think that includes flagellating yourself over some girl."
"I have to Amy, it's the right thing to do."
"Just send that bitch an apology," she scoffed, pulling out her phone, checking the time, then pocketing it again. "If she's still going to act like an idiot, she's not worth the time."
"Well…" Victoria dithered on the word. "Maybe. It could be that this ends up the kind of situation where you have to cut someone toxic out of your mind. If we do our best and she's still like this, then…"
"I get it."
I didn't get it.
"If it can't be done, well," I shrugged, looking up but not meeting either of their eyes. "We'll have to let it go."
Victoria put a soft hand on my shoulder. "Sometimes it's not up to you to fix someone, but not trying is the worse option of the two."
Amy put her hand on my other shoulder. "I don't think you should bother at all."
"Amy!" Victoria smacked her hand away.
"What? He appreciates it when you don't sugarcoat, don't you Greg?"
"It's not about that," Victoria huffed, the motion blowing a strand of curled blond hair away from her face. "It's about a positive mindset. If you tell yourself you can't, you never will. Don't poison the well."
"Fuck the well, it'll be worse when she doesn't change. This is one of those Sishyphycian efforts."
"It's Sisyphean," Victoria replied witheringly. "A Sisyphean effort. Like dealing with you for more than half an hour."
"I'm going to rub it in your face as hard as I can when he fucks up," Amy sneered. "Like, what did you used to say, Greg, 'the only winning move is not to play'?"
I hoped this was Amy being her usual short-sighted self and not an insight she'd gleaned from homemade nootropic MDMA, the effects of which must be considerable. She'd gone from thirteen intelligence to fifteen, which wasn't too crazy and was possibly due to just getting older, but if she kept it up she could end up a genius.
But also, fuck Amy.
"I hope you're ready for me to rub it in your face," I shot back. "There's nothing I can't do."
My quest to save Taylor proved it, it would only take time.
"Eh, it's up to you," Amy said. "I'll still help, but don't expect much."
"All I need are your thoughts and prayers."
Amy snorted, "whatever, dude. Can we go eat now, I'm super hungry."
