1st June 2011- Sveta
Some kind of clicking noise nudged her into the waking world, a bare moment of bleary half-awareness before her tendrils whipped her off her bed and across the room. Sveta cried out, the confused scream soft in the dim light of her room. She struggled against her tendrils ambush predation instincts, trying to calm them down and go back to bed and back to sleep.
It sometimes happened that the wind or a bug tripped the hair-trigger of her body, sending her tendrils into a ravenous frenzy over nothing. Sveta went through her breathing exercises, imagining the breath energy filling her body with calm and control. Awareness, and calm. She felt her hanging organs relax slightly from where they had bunched up in the heavily defended nexus of tendrils, hanging a bit looser and more comfortably. Her tendrils, however, remained tense and coiled; convinced that danger was near.
There was another clicking noise and Sveta's breath caught. That was the sound her door made when it was being unlocked. Her tentacles poised above the door, ready to strike. She was dreaming, surely. It was the middle of the night, nobody was coming in. This was another nightmare.
The door slowly swung open. In the gloom, she could barely make out a large human shape, someone bulky, or wearing something bulky. Sveta screamed out to them, warning them to get away, but it wasn't likely they'd hear her as anything but a soft breathy voice.
The person stepped into the room, exposing their back to her, and her tendrils struck. Wrapping around their neck, lifting them up and shaking them like a dog shakes a rat.
Zak!
There was a sharp popping sound, a flash of light and a brief, but intense, burning pain and she collapsed heavily onto the floor in her open doorway. Paralysed, she couldn't move. Couldn't move anything, not even her eyes. She breathed in an easy, steady rhythm, unable to even hyperventilate in panic which at this point she found she really wanted to do.
"Sorry, Svets."
The intruder knelt down beside her.
"It's me, Greg," he whispered. "This is going to hurt a bit, but I'm going to get you out of here. Trust me."
His hand closed gently around her jaw, the motion incongruously friendly with the pain that followed. He'd done something to her neck, she couldn't see anything of it beside the soft light it was giving off, but it burned constant and dull. She still couldn't move.
What was he thinking? She couldn't get out of here, she was going to hurt people again! She tried to speak up and tell him this obvious fact but she couldn't make a sound. Sveta tried to panic, freak out and cling to her bed so she couldn't be taken away, but her body wouldn't do anything either. She could breathe and blink, but that was pretty much it.
"I've got a plan," said Greg, picking her up with one hand and draping her around his neck like a scarf. "Don't worry."
Sveta worried.
Sveta worried a great deal.
She continued to worry as Greg walked back out of her room, closing the doors behind him, and through the eerie empty hallways of the parahuman asylum. This was insanity, she was being kidnapped by, like, one of her best friends.
Whatever was clasped under her jaw throbbed painfully as Greg manoeuvred through the facility. She'd never been to this part of the asylum before but she knew there were cameras and they could fingerprint the doors and then they'd arrest him. Even though he was kidnapping her he didn't deserve that, he was just trying to help in his own special way. He knew how much it upset her to be stuck in the asylum, but, this wasn't the way to go about it. Maybe after a few more years of therapy, she'd have enough control over herself to take a stroll outside, but not now.
They'd reached the front door, and went through it to the outside world. It had been a long time since Sveta had breathed fresh air.
Outside it was dark, the dead of night, and though there was no moon she could see stars. She liked the stars. There was a jolt as Greg bolted, fast. As fast as she'd ever been able to move, her tendrils lashing their way with whatever handholds they could grasp. She could be quite fast when they wanted to move her somewhere.
Ah, the wind on her face. This was enough, surely. She'd gotten to see the outside again, now he could put her back in the asylum where she wouldn't get loose and rip civilians apart so her tendrils could force-feed her their corpses.
They reached a road, a long, broad highway stretching out as far as she could see the streetlights. Greg jogged to a stop.
"This will take a couple of hours," he said apologetically. "I can't take the collar off, I know it hurts, and I'm truly sorry that I don't have any other way. I'm going to make you human again, Svets."
If her breath could catch, it would have. Human again? He was… what? Was that even possible? It was everything. Her wildest dream, to be free of this horrid body and just be normal. How? How though? He could fix Case Fifty-Three's? He wasn't joking, she could tell, he was going to fix her.
Tears dripped down her cheek and off her ear, plopping onto his shoulder.
"I already owe Amy a shit ton of favours, but this one's definitely worth whatever she's going to have me do. Just sit tight and we'll have you right in a jiffy."
He patted her tendrils near her head consolingly, and suddenly they were sitting on a motorbike. The bike rumbled to life and they accelerated away, taking her to her freedom.
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Some painful hours later Greg had ditched the bike and moved into a run without breaking stride. The ride had been exhilarating, scarf though she was. She'd never moved that fast, or so smoothly. It was like flying.
It was still solidly night time but the light of what she assumed to be Brockton Bay blocked out the stars. She was certain it was Brockton. Greg said he was taking her to 'Amy', who could have only been Amy Dallon, aka. Panacea. He'd talked about her to Sveta before, calling her the O G fleshwarper, and that her healing was just because Amy was a cool person who felt bad about people being sick.
Once they were somewhere in the city, and they must have been invisible because nobody had noticed them, Greg jumped, scaling a building and using it to leap to another taller one. He got them up high and slowed to a walk before stopping, stretching and cracking his back.
"Almost there, literally one more minute," he said, shifting her around his neck to he was looking into her eyes. She started crying again and he dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief pulled from nowhere. "Maybe I shoulda told you first, but I didn't want there to be any evidence. I hope this makes up for it, 'cause I know I scared the shit out of you back there."
Sveta couldn't say anything or move, but Greg nodded like he understood her feelings.
"I'll warn you now, though, I'm going to jump off the building-"
They were on a skyscraper.
"-but I can glide, so don't worry," he smiled cheerfully, giving her tendrils another friendly pat.
He fixed her back around his neck, took a step that must have carried them five meters, then jumped. They rocketed skyward, then as their momentum began to peter off the rocketed up again in complete defiance of physics. At the peak of this jump, however, there was the sound of something catching against wind and they began to glide at a smooth downward angle. Sveta was treated to a unique bird's eye view of a city at night. She could tell that the area they were gliding towards was a bad part of the city, as evidence of habitation dropped off suddenly and the buildings she could make out seemed more run down.
They began to circle, each revolution taking them lower and lower until they were right up against the roof of a warehouse. The gliding cut out and they dropped the last few meters, landing weirdly gently on the corrugated iron roofing. Greg walked over to a skylight, which must have been blocked off somehow because it wasn't lit from inside, and knocked.
The skylight opened, letting out a brief glimmer of light before they slipped inside and alighted onto the wooden floor. There was a harsh white light coming from somewhere off to her left, but she was facing straight at the floor and couldn't see anyone else. It was a nice floor, though, very handsomely boarded.
"About fucking time."
A girl's voice, Panacea. She sounded much ruder than Sveta imagined, but Greg made a pleased sound in his nose and headed toward it, shifting her around as they went so she could see.
Panacea was shorter than she expected, her milk-white skin contrasting her many freckles unflatteringly in the harsh storm-lantern light. She was dressed in normal clothes, however, that flattered her full figure.
"Sorry I'm late," Greg smiled, holding out his fist which was dismissively bumped. "This is Sveta. Sveta, this is Amy. I'll have to leave you in her care, because I seriously need to hoof it to get back to New York before my bodyguard realises I'm gone but don't worry, she's a doctor."
Amy snorted as Greg unravelled her from his neck and lay her out gently on the floor.
"Yeah, don't worry, I can fix anything this idiot did. Did he drop you? I bet he dropped you."
Sveta wanted to insist that Greg had been very careful, but she still couldn't move.
Greg chuckled and knelt down next to her. "I'll be back tomorrow morning with breakfast, is there anything you want to eat? Amy, do the thing so she can make her breakfast order. Where's your bedside manner?"
"The same place as your common sense," Amy sniped, but knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her cheek. "You're lucky you didn't fry her nervous system with this torture device, leaving it on so long."
"I tested it on Skidmark."
"Oh, well, that's good then. You tested it on Skidmark, problem solved. Take it off her."
Greg blew a raspberry at Amy and the pain vanished. She still couldn't move, then she gasped. Her jaw opened and she took in a long, painful breath into her tiny lungs.
"He didn't drop me," she said in a small voice. Her tendrils weren't responding, but her face moved. She worked her jaw around, savouring that small freedom.
"See?" said Greg. "Perfectly safe. Ok, I really do have to go, though, see you soon!"
He picked her up off the floor and gave her a hug. After he put her down he clasped Amy's hand.
"Good luck," he said.
"Bye, Greg," said Sveta. "Can you bring me homemade pancakes?"
He grinned, saluted, glanced at the ceiling, and jumped back up through the skylight.
"Finally," said Amy. "Now that he's gone we can get this done and I can go home and get some sleep."
"Um, you don't have to, you know, if you don't want to…" Sveta trailed off, cursing herself. She was a stupid doormat.
There was a moment, then Amy sighed. When she spoke again her tone was completely divorced from the snide, clipped voice she spoke in before.
"No, we're doing this. I promised, and besides, I want to know if I can fix you. Greg and I have had many long conversations about Case Fifty Threes, I'd have done this even if he hadn't begged."
"He begged?"
"Like a little bitch," Amy said, but her smile was genuine. Maybe that was just how they spoke to each other, even if it sounded like they were fighting they were just playing around.
"And you think you can fix me?" Sveta asked with bated breath.
Amy shrugged. "I really don't see why not from the look of you I got earlier. You're biological, which I can do just about anything to-"
Sveta had started crying again. She'd done some crying earlier, so all her tears were gone and these were the stinging black bile tears. She didn't care though, that fact was so singularly unimportant.
"Ah, there there," said Amy a little awkwardly. "Let's get started then, eh? You just lay there and I'll get what I need. This is going to take a few hours, integrating foreign matter into you."
Foreign matter? Sveta frowned, blinking her stinging eyes. It did make sense, she was only about fifty pounds of shrivelled organs and whip-thin tendril, and unless the extra mass came from somewhere she'd have to be a little girl. She wasn't terribly sure exactly how old she was, but she was clearly into her teens. Fourteen, if she had to place it. Being turned into a five-year-old, which she would take without hesitation if it came to it, wasn't exactly what she had imagined when she pictured herself as human.
She knew that was being greedy and presumptuous. She should take what she was offered and be happy with it, anything was better than what she was now, even being a child.
After a few minutes, there was the sound of fatty flesh slapping the floor, and Amy grunted with a bit of effort, clearly pushing something toward her. Sveta struggled to look, but she was still facing away. More black tears stung her eyes, it was time.
She felt something warm and heavy touch her tendrils from behind, then Amy stepped back around in front of her and sat down, putting her hand back on her cheek.
"This is going to feel extremely fucking weird, but bear with me. I'm going to use what you have now to make your head and torso, then I'll do the limbs after that out of this," Amy reached over and slapped something loudly, the heavy thing rippling against her. "And we can talk about how you want to look."
Sveta was about to say anything was fine but quickly bit her tongue. It was her body being made, she should get to choose what she looked like; there was nothing wrong with that. Stupid doormat Sveta, she almost ruined everything.
"Thank you," she whispered instead. "Thank you so much, I'll do whatever you want-"
Amy snorted and patted her roughly on the cheek. "I'll put it on Greg's tab. Now, let's get to it."
Sveta could nod, so she moved her eyes up and down rapidly.
Slowly, her flesh began to melt. She felt it, like Amy had put it, as extremely fucking weird. She could tell her tendrils wanted it to stop, that they'd rip Panacea to shreds if they had the chance, but they were in her iron control. At that moment they weren't Sveta's tendrils, nor even their own tendrils, they were Amy's tendrils to do with as she pleased.
She felt her eyelids droop, consciousness fading into warm fuzzy sleep. She went in and out of this state a few times, finally coming into sharp consciousness. She took a deep breath; it didn't hurt.
Tears sprang to her eyes; they didn't sting.
Sveta spoke; it wasn't unnaturally soft.
"What?"
She could see Amy sitting cross-legged, earbuds in her ears connecting to her phone on the floor. Amy popped them out.
"Done with the torso. All your organs are there and properly sized-"
"Thank you!" Sveta shouted, taking as many full breaths as she could. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
It was still her voice, naturally a bit soft and kind of faux-Russian accented, but it was a human voice now. No longer the voice of Garotte the murder squid.
"Don't worry about it," Amy said bluntly. "I'm going to put you back under while I do your arms and legs, then I'll wake you up to give them a test drive. You don't need to worry about turning back either, I think, everything is staying where it should."
Sveta tried to shout her thanks in Amy's face again, but darkness fuzzed around her vision and sleep took her.
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Sveta wiggled her big toe. Her big toe. Sveta had a foot, a human foot attached to a human leg connected to a human body.
It was… Ecstasy. Human hormones pumped through her human veins. It was pure joy, even if Amy stopped here and left her with a body like a featureless doll it would be so much more than she could have ever hoped for.
She tried to sit up, but slipped and flopped on the floor. She laughed, wild and unrestrained as she flailed her arms and legs feeling like a baby deer just being born.
"I love you!" she shouted at Amy, squirming over to try and hug her as tears and snot -snot!- ran down her face. "I love you so much!"
Amy held her down uncomfortably. "Thanks."
After a few minutes of squirming and incoherent soppy babbling, she felt herself start to calm down.
"Sorry, Amy," she said even though she was still smiling widely.
Amy shrugged, looking up from her phone. "I get it, take your time. Try sitting up, all your nerves are connected but you're going to have to learn how to use everything. I don't think it'll take you longer than a few days, everything's in tip-top shape. Ask Greg to get you a wheelchair when he gets back, maybe, if it's too hard."
Sveta tried to lift her arms up but it was an experience wholly divorced from having tendrils and her elbow jerked, making her punch herself in the chest. She giggled.
After a few minutes of incredibly enjoyable flailing but being unable to sit up Amy sighed boredly and the floor began to rise, lifting her into a sitting position.
"Gosh, thank you," Sveta squeaked, almost falling out before the chair tightened around her, locking her into it.
Amy grunted and the chair began to walk her over to a full-length mirror. Beside it on a bench growing out of the wall were a folded set of clothes. The chair stopped and she got her first look at her new body.
She was bald, flat and almost featureless. It looked like Amy had given up halfway through forming her old face onto her new skull. She was hideous. She burst into tears again, resisting the urge to gibber thank-yous that Amy pretty clearly didn't want to hear.
"Yep," said Amy, looking uncomfortable. "It's all there. I made you average height, but let me know how tall you want to be first because otherwise, it'll make more work for me later trying to fix things."
"Five two," said Sveta immediately. Small and cute, she'd always wanted to be small and cute.
"Right…" Amy put her hand on Sveta's shoulder -shoulder!- and her body itched hot and cold as she shrunk a few inches. "I assume you've thought about what you want to look like."
Obsessed about, more like. She had dozens of links to pictures memorised as references that she pictured herself as. She blushed -blushed!- as a thought came to her.
"Um, and what if I, you know, with a boy-"
"Everything's normal," Amy interrupted her. "You'll enjoy it just fine."
Sveta bowed her head, she could feel the blood having rushed to her head. She had real red human blood, and it was rushing to her face. It felt so good.
"Thank you," she said in a small voice. "Can you look up some things on your phone? I have a few pictures for you to reference if that's ok?"
Amy shook her head but reached into her pocket for her phone. "How hot do you want me to make you?"
"Very, please."
"You know, this is the first time I've ever done cosmetic on someone. I don't think normal people deserve it, but I won't have much choice if I do any other Fifty Three's."
"You're going to do the others?" Sveta asked with wonder.
"Not immediately," Amy hastened to add. "You're the test case, we need to make sure you don't turn back into whatever it was you were before."
"Greg was right," Sveta looked at Amy with awe, tearing up again. "You're a really good person."
Amy looked like she was suppressing a gag, but didn't say anything further and held her phone out.
Sveta took the hint.
"Can you type in 'blood boundary main girl'?"
Amy's thumbs tapped her phone in a quick staccato. She narrowed her eyes and frowned.
"You really are his friend, I can't make you look like this."
"Um," Sveta stammered. "Just as a base. I mean, I know you can't but it's just a reference. I have some real models, too, obviously, I want to look human and having eyes that big would just ruin that. I promise I know, it was just an idea, you don't have to if it's too much, honest."
No, stupid doormat. Take it back. Sveta couldn't make herself say it, however.
"No, I'm sorry," said Amy, not meeting her pleading eye. "I'll make it work, however you want to look. Just, stop crying, please."
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They had spent a long while fine-tuning her features and body until Sveta was utterly, beyond perfectly happy with them. Amy was truly, without question, the third nicest person she had ever met.
After they were done Amy had told her she wanted to go home and sleep, and that Greg would be there eventually. She'd helped Sveta get dressed into the unisex grey sweats Greg had left for her, put her to sleep and presumably left.
Sveta awoke again to the smell of something delicious. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she shifted on her pole… She jolted awake. Sveta burst into tears again when she remembered where she was.
"Morning!"
She gasped, turning. Greg sat on a chair near her organic bed, a plate of steaming fresh pancakes on a small blue table next to her.
"I can't believe I've never cooked anything before," he said. "I had to re-do these until my cooking skill levelled up a bit. I had some, fucking delicious."
Sveta wailed, almost falling out of bed until Greg pushed her back onto it, crouching beside her.
"Amy is so nice," she sobbed, feeling her hair bunch up as she shifted. "I love her so much!"
"It's why she's my other best friend," Greg lifted her up under the armpits into a sitting position against the wall, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. "I'm really sorry I had to spring all this on you last second, I had the idea kicking around for a while and realised I should just do it."
"You don't, you can't," Sveta collected herself. "Please don't be sorry for this, ever. You don't know how much it means to me."
Greg smiled, and looking into his eyes she could tell he wasn't the same person who came to see her. Something in them was older, wiser. Maybe he did know.
"Anywho," he moved the table and plate of pancakes to brush against her dainty knees -knees!-. "Dig in before they get cold. Maybe don't eat too quick, that's a new stomach you're breaking in."
Sveta tried to pick up the knife and fork and almost punched her breakfast before Greg caught her arm.
"Sorry."
"Nah, my bad," Greg shook his head. "I didn't realise. Here."
He cut her a slice, it dripped with butter and maple syrup. Her mouth watered as he lifted it up to her, easing it into her dainty mouth.
She started crying again. She really needed to stop doing that, but even before she was a crier. She'd read a sad news article and cry, she'd think about the sad article later and cry again. She couldn't help it, even when she knew she'd cry bile it would still happen.
It truly was the best thing she had ever tasted. She over chewed and had trouble swallowing it until Greg levered a bottle of water for her to sip. She gasped as food made its way down her new throat for the first time.
"It's good, right?" Greg cut her another bite. "I'm so bloody lazy, these pancakes are the first things I've cooked that were complex enough to give me a skill. I'm going to be making all my meals from now on if you want to taste test them for me."
Sveta nodded vigorously as he gave her another slice, just as buttery and syrupy as the first.
"We've got to get you walking first, obviously. Amy said it shouldn't take you too long, and I agree, going off your stats. I'll make you the apparatus they get people in rehab to use to get used to walking again and we can start on that after breakfast. I don't have all day, but I told Armsmaster I'd be busy with personal life stuff for a while so I'll be here as often as I can until I can get you set up with a new civilian identity, which won't be as hard as it sounds; Leviathan trashed a lot of stuff, we should be able to just slot you in in the chaos."
Oh, right. Sveta stopped chewing. She'd forgotten that Leviathan hit Brockton.
"After we get you all set up, then, well, you can do whatever you like. I'll introduce you to Weld, too."
Sveta opened her mouth too quickly and the pancake fell out onto her lap. Greg laughed and forked it back into her mouth.
"I'm sure he'd be happy to meet you, too," Greg winked, holding up the water for her again. "Amy does good work."
Sveta spluttered a little before forcing down her mouthful. "Right?! Even though it took so long, and I kept asking her to make tiny changes, she put up with me."
"We might have to get her back, actually," Greg grimaced. "Until you can go to the toilet by yourself. She'll have to come in and check on you anyway, since we're both not sure if you'll change back, but I think you'll be fine. I can't see anything on you that says you won't stay like this, and she told me the same."
"Even if I start to change back, just this time spent like this is worth so much to me. I'm so lucky."
"No one deserves it more," Greg cut another slice of pancake. "Except maybe Weld, but…" he sighed despondently. "Amy won't be able to fix him. He's on the wrong end of the Manton limit for her, so when she goes public with this in a few years you'll have to be there for him too."
Sveta couldn't imagine a world where she would do anything less. Weld was her hero, all of their hero's.
"I will."
Her hand thumped her leg, which was what she actually wanted it to do.
"But I'll need to walk first."
Greg held out the pancake. "Lets fucking go, then."
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3rd June
Sveta woke during the night. It was still pitch black inside the warehouse, which meant it was somewhere near the middle of the night. She could feel her foot with her fingers, which didn't make any sense because she was lying flat. She lifted her arm, confused, and something resembling a thin pool noodle lifted her blanket.
Sveta screamed, which activated the bio-luminescent moss, and thrashed as her tendril arm flailed wildly. She fell out of bed, hitting her chin on the floor and biting her tongue. No, it couldn't be, not so soon! She was turning back, people were going to die.
Her right arm was still human and she used it to pull herself up, scrabbling for the phone she'd been given. She knocked it to the floor and her tendril left arm tried to reach for it but pushed it further away. Sveta crawled desperately toward the phone, one of her knees giving out as it unravelled into a tendril. She hit her chin again as she fell, still pushing against the floor. Her physical therapy was going well, and she had just about enough control over her body to slide across the floor like a baby.
She reached her phone, taking it in her good hand as her other leg unravelled. She fumbled the keys, hitting the wrong button and had to go back until she could get into her contacts list. Two numbers, Greg and Amy, she dialled Greg first.
One ring.
"Sveta? What's wrong?"
"Help!" She gasped, feeling her neck start to lengthen. "It's happening!"
Dial tone.
That meant he was coming, right? She felt her fingers of her good hand come undone, the phone clattering to the floor. He had to be coming. He'd heard her. She needed to believe that. Sveta made herself breathe, go through the exercises Doctor Yamada gave her. She felt like her tendrils weren't as wild as they used to be, but that might have just been that they were still reforming. She was still, she was calm.
Sveta repeated this over and over in her mind. The breathing exercises, which had clearly been designed with humans in mind, feeling much easier. It was almost like her tendrils were obeying her, that her brief experience as a person had taught her some measure of control.
So she lay there and breathed.
Before long, though it could have easily been twenty minutes, she heard the door to the warehouse open, faint illumination spilling into the room. She held herself still, using the iron will she had cultivated over the past two days to keep herself in check and her tendrils from hurting Greg.
"Sveta!" she heard him say, and suddenly he was by her side heedless of the danger. "It's ok, everything's fine!"
"I'm turning!" she sobbed, forcing herself still.
"No, no! You're not, you're fine. Breathe."
She was breathing. She was breathing with more focus than she ever had before in her life.
"You're not turning back, your power's just coming through in a different form," Greg picked her up, cradling her. "You're ok, you can turn back. She's fine, just scared."
"Oh, good."
The other voice was Amy. Sweet, beautiful Amy.
"Sveta, it's ok. Focus on pulling yourself together, that's it. Good work, doin' great."
She heard the floor creak slightly as Amy knelt beside Greg, but didn't dare open her eyes as she felt Amy's hand on her giraffe-like neck.
"Yeah, he's right. You haven't changed back, calm down," Amy withdrew her hand grumpily. "We expected something like this, remember? Chill."
"Amy, please," said Greg wearily. "Be nice."
"Sorry," said Amy, not sounding sorry in the least. "If I come off as a little cross it's because I didn't expect you to break into my room in the middle of the night and shake me awake."
"Yes, yes, boohoo. You're very hard done by."
"Feh."
"I'm not turning back?" Sveta asked, blinking her eyes open. For a moment they swam with tears before they cleared and she could see Greg's round face staring down at her with Amy next to him, also looking worried belaying her grumpiness.
"Nah," Greg lifted her into a sitting position, holding her steady. "You're just Slenderman now. You're even taller than me. You should still be able to move properly, give it a try."
Sveta took a shuddering breath and swallowed. She tried to lift up her left arm. It rose just how she wanted, then started to compress back into human form. It shrunk fully, turning back into her new arm with its slim wrists and dainty fingers. She gave her hand a flex and pulled the rest of herself together. Soon she was sitting on the floor, whole and normal, feeling very silly.
"See?" said Greg. "Good as new. This makes everything a bit easier, actually. Assuming you want to join the Wards, at least. They'll rush through any papers you need and give you a place to stay, plus you'll get to work with me and Weld."
Sveta was silent as Amy leant forward again, touching her face. She did want that. She really wanted that.
"I'll make sure Armsmaster understands that it's important you aren't thrown onto the field yet."
He'd told her about the unfortunate timing, with the Slaughterhouse Nine in the city.
"He's been pretty cocky since he got that commendation for the ABB thing, but he'll do me a solid."
"I'd love to," Sveta said in a small voice.
Amy pulled her hand back. "She's completely fine. You can take me home now."
"Amy, you dumb bitch. Ten minutes won't make a difference."
Amy yawned loudly, stood up and kicked his leg in a way that must have been friendly because it didn't look like he felt it at all.
"I'll bring you into the PRT after I take her home," Greg turned back to her. "Gives me an excuse for running off when I should be in bed, too, so everyone wins. You'd better get your backstory straight before we go in though. Are we still going with homeschooled, parents dead?"
"You should go with mail-order bride, she sounds Russian enough," chimed in Amy.
Sveta laughed because she didn't want Amy to feel bad about her terrible joke. But… maybe she could be Weld's mail order bride? No, that was too embarrassing to think about.
"Homeschooled, dead parents," she said. It was a difficult backstory for anyone to corroborate, but also catch her out on. Her parents had been Eastern European migrants who had homeschooled her without entering her into the system because they didn't trust it, which had actually happened before. She remembered reading a news article where it had been discovered that very thing had happened, the only difference was that her parents had gotten her a computer with the internet for some reason. Didn't make complete sense, but it didn't need to.
"It'll work," said Greg standing up and offering a hand to her. "Even if they don't want to buy it, not only do they want every parahuman they can get, I'm bringing you in. Everything will go peaches and cream."
She reached up and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. Her legs wobbled, threatening to spill her onto the floor again.
"Can we take a minute, please? I'm a little shaken up."
Amy groaned and Greg shushed her.
"But we can go now, I really don't mind it's no problem."
Amy groaned again. "No, don't worry. A few more minutes won't matter."
Greg gave her a look as if to say 'see?'. He'd told her Amy liked to bitch and moan but would do the right thing regardless and she shouldn't let Amy push her around. He got out his motorbike from his dimensional subspace and wheeled it to the front door, Amy followed him and Sveta realised they were giving her some space to centre herself. She felt tears start to well up again. They were so nice.
Sveta took a few shaky steps and started going through a series of Tai Chi exercises Greg had taught her. She was in control, there were no tendrils. Everything was alright.
҉҉҉
Sveta sat in the conference room in the PRT building. Greg was nearby, somewhere. Everything was going exactly as he said it would and she was just waiting for Battery to get there so she could sign up.
She fidgeted with her mask. She didn't know how parahumans wore the things all the time, even the simple one she'd been given felt cumbersome and restrictive. She was starting to feel very uncomfortable with the plan. She was going to have to lie to the super cops. Sveta hated lying, and was terrible at it besides, so she was getting a horrible twisty feeling in her belly and her limbs felt weak. While it was very nice that she had limbs that could feel weak, it wasn't very nice why.
Sveta fidgeted some more. Was this taking too long? Did they believe Greg? Were they going to find out she used to be Garotte? There was surely no way, and besides, Greg had said the plan would work and he was totally a genius or something. He said he was already at college even though he was only fifteen.
The clock on the wall ticked and Sveta fidgeted. It was getting to the point where she was close to tears, and she knew if Battery opened the door a little too aggressively when she arrived she would burst into tears.
There was something about the door that felt like being Garotte again. A sense of it as an ambush point. It was faint, but she had begun to notice it as time progressed after her initial scare earlier. She could intuitively feel where to surprise someone with an attack.
Thankfully the door was opened gently. Battery walked in with a beleaguered air and Sveta instantly felt bad about giving her more work. She thought about apologising but Battery spoke before she could, making the apology awkward to make.
"You're friends with our Smoke Puncher, eh?"
"Ah, yes?" Sveta said, hamming up her Russian accent a little. She hadn't decided to beforehand but maybe Battery would take it easier on her if she thought Sveta's English wasn't her first language. "We played games together over the internet."
"Well, welcome to Wards ENE," Battery smiled sympathetically. "He let us know you recently lost your parents. I'm very sorry to hear that."
Sveta looked at the table and Battery sat down next to her. "Thank you," she said.
She must have looked a little too small and cute because Battery put a hand on her shoulder in a way that gave off very Big Sister vibes. Sveta choked up and started crying. A lot of parents died to Leviathan and here she was using their deaths selfishly.
"Oh, there there," Battery patted her gently on the back. "Take your time. Do you want me to get you anything? A cup of water? Bagel?"
"Water, please."
Battery gave her back one last pat and stood up. "Be right back."
Sveta took a moment to fight back her stupid guilty tears. It wasn't wrong to lie like this, telling the truth would not only hurt her but Greg and Amy.
Battery entered again with the cup of water and Sveta sipped it gratefully. "Thank you, Battery. I'm feeling better, now."
"There's no rush, honest. This is like a break for me too."
Sveta gave her a watery smile and reached up for the mask. "Am I allowed? The mask itches."
Battery nodded but made no move to reciprocate the unmasking. But that was ok, Sveta didn't mind.
She slipped off the mask and Battery made a funny noise.
"That's a pretty face."
"Thanks. I didn't use to look like this, um, before. You know, before…"
"I know. This is going to be a process, with your parents being, well, deceased. You're going to need a foster carer, who needs to be approved by the Youth Guard, who can sign for you; so we can't induct you straight away, miss?"
"Svetlana," Sveta said. "Svetlana Karelia. But I, um, like to be called Sveta."
Karelia was a region in Russia, which they'd chosen to reinforce that she was so foreign she wasn't in the system. Plus it sounded very pretty, which is why they chose it over something like Brovsk.
And they were changing her first name for very obvious reasons.
"Well, Sveta, do you mind filling out these forms for me so we can do some verification checks?"
She slid a few papers and a pen over to her.
"I will, but… I'm terribly sorry," Sveta hammed her accent up a bit more. "I don't think I will be found. I was homeschooled and my parents were very traditional, papa often complained about the bank and why he didn't trust the American system."
Battery grimaced. "Ok. Well, please fill out as much of the forms as you can. I don't suppose you have a passport? A bus pass?"
Sveta shook her head.
"Do you know what internet provider we might find a Mr Karelia under?"
Sveta froze. Shit! Oh no!
"...nyet."
Battery sighed and shook her head. "Well, please try to do your best. Once you've filled out as much as you can we can find a place for you to temporarily stay."
"Could I stay with Greg? I mean, Dark Smoke Puncher? He has been a very kind friend to me over the years."
"I don't think that's possible, Sveta. I'm sorry but he stays in the Wards private area, and well, you're not a Ward yet. We definitely want you on our team," Battery added quickly, obviously fearing her tears. "But we have rules to follow. We'll speed everything along as best we can-"
The door opened again, aggressively this time. Sveta stifled a sniffle. Armsmaster, and she recognised him by his signature blue suit of armour, entered brusquely.
"Is everything good? Has she signed up?"
"Sir? No, she doesn't have even a bus pass let alone social security. We can't put her through until she has an appointed carer to sign off."
Armsmaster was silent for a moment. "I'm rubber stamping on this, we'll bring her in tonight."
"Armsmaster, sir, we can't flout due process-"
"I'll take the flack for signing on a new Ward, then," he interrupted her. "Look at the poor girl, the court system will chew her up for months before anything can get approved. You can still get the bonus for registering her if you want, but trust me, this way is better for every one of us."
҉҉҉
Armsmaster personally escorted her, taking time out of his no doubt very busy schedule to walk her to where all the Wards got to live and hang out as friends.
"Thank you so much, Mr Armsmaster," Sveta quickly trotted after him. His legs were very long and he wasn't walking very slowly, but he was in charge of the whole Protectorate branch so this was probably how he always walked because he was very busy and important.
"Just to be clear," he replied, turning back to look at her. "Everything is above board?"
"Yes, of course!" Sveta heard her voice come out shrill and shaky.
Armsmaster clicked his tongue. "But you are interested in joining the Wards for a good reason?"
"Yes, I am, I promise. I want to help people."
He made an aggrieved noise. "That'll have to do. Not to sugar coat it, but you've joined at a bad time. You stay here and behave yourself, understood?"
He knew. She knew she was a terrible liar, but this was something else. He'd seen through her like a window.
"Thank you, Mr Armsmaster," her voice quavered again, but she held firm and didn't cry. "I'll do my best. I won't let you down."
Armsmaster was silent for a moment as they walked, then his lips moved into a very small smile. "Good. You seem like a nicer kid than he ever was."
"Than Greg?"
Armsmaster nodded. That didn't track, Greg was the second nicest person she'd ever met. What did Armsmaster have against him? Sveta felt like she should fume and defend Greg's honour, but Armsmaster was also very nice so maybe he was just joking around like Amy and Greg did.
Although, she did remember Greg saying he had once blackmailed Shadow Stalker into a date and then got her arrested when she dumped him. But that didn't track, either. It didn't even make sense.
When Sveta didn't respond he continued.
"I haven't got any time to spend inducting you, so you'll have to be on pending probationary status. Given the current circumstances, we can give you a place to stay, but not begin any other power testing or image processes until the current crisis is dealt with. You will be given access to the Wards area and nowhere else, do not abuse this privilege. You are free to leave at any time, of course, and we cannot stop you from acting as a parahuman in ways unaffiliated with the Protectorate, though of course, I cannot recommend this in any capacity."
"Thank you," Sveta said again. "And I promise I won't. I'll stay indoors and I won't make any trouble for you."
"I believe you."
Armsmaster managed to convey a blistering amount of sincerity in this, having the same tone Greg had when he had come to calm her down just a couple of hours before. This made sense to Sveta as Greg was Armsmaster's protege. They even dressed in similar armour, which was very cute.
They entered an elevator and Armsmaster pressed the button for the next floor down.
"Could you, very quickly, describe your power to give us a heads up for when we can test you?"
"Oh, of course, yes! I can change into a, um, long thin person," she held her hand out. Now that she could see it happening properly it was clear she didn't unravel into tendrils, her body stretched out, thinning as it did so. Her fingers lengthened, hardening and darkening until they resembled her old body. With a thought, she pulled them back into shape. "I feel like it makes me stronger."
The elevator doors dinged open, she hadn't even realised they'd started moving.
"Fairly classic Changer," Armsmaster mused. "Thank you, Svetlana."
She would have to get used to that, but she smiled regardless. Armsmaster led her along a short corridor that ended in a big Vault Tech door complete with a spinning wheel lock, just like Greg had described. He'd told her a lot of things they both knew he shouldn't and somehow it had all worked out.
Armsmaster cranked the wheel and pulled, revealing that only a small section of the vault door, the size of a normal door, opened and led me inside.
The Wards room was everything I'd ever imagined, a cozy home away from home. And sitting on one of the couches in the centre were Greg and Weld. Sveta froze, he was just as handsome and powerful as he was on the television. She glanced quickly at Greg who was sitting there with a smug, sly grin, then back to Weld who was smiling politely and standing to greet her.
"Take care of this, please," said Armsmaster, who nodded to her and briskly walked from the room; off to do important Protectorate leader things.
"Yes, sir," Weld called out to his retreating back, then looked her directly in the eyes. His teeth flashed handsomely as he spoke. "Hello, I'm Weld."
"Sveta! I mean, Svetlana, but I um, prefer…" she trailed off. She'd bungled it already, he'd think she was a smoothbrained fool who couldn't string a sentence together.
"Would you like to come and sit down?" he asked kindly, gesturing to the adjacent couch. "It's too early for everyone else to be up, but I'll call a team meeting so we can all get to know each other when everyone's awake."
"Speaking of," said Greg, radiating self-satisfaction. "I should get my power nap. Lots to do tomorrow, sorry, Sveta, but I won't have much time to show you around. Weld, though, reliable as fuck. He'll be happy to help you get sorted."
"Oh, good night…"
He clapped Weld on the shoulder, smirked at her, then took two several meter long steps and was out of sight around a corner that led into what looked like a hallway.
That idiot! She should never have told him Weld was her celebrity crush! What was she supposed to do now, be smooth? She almost stumbled on her new feet as she walked to the proffered couch and sat down on the very edge, rigid like a statue.
"You two were friends online, right?"
Sveta nodded, not meeting his eye.
"It's lucky you had someone to find you after what happened," Weld continued. "He told me what happened, I'm sorry to hear about your parents. If there's anything you need, just let me, or one of us, know."
"Thank you," Sveta said quietly. "It's, um, hard to adjust."
Ha! Truth in dissimulation, she could pull this off.
Weld cocked his head, his eyebrows glinting prettily under the fluorescents. She could make out each hair-fine wire. "Y'know, you sound a little familiar, but I'm positive we've never met."
"Oh, we, um, did speak once," Sveta saw Weld lean forward, too polite to tell her to speak up. "When Greg and I were playing a game, he gave you his headset?"
Weld clicked, striking his hand into his other palm, expression clearing. "I remember that. It's nice to finally meet you, Svetlana."
"Y-you too."
Oh god no, why had she said that? She was so lame. She was going to have stress nightmares about this for months.
"I think I would like to go to bed, too," she blurted out. "I haven't slept yet."
"You must be exhausted!" Weld stood suddenly, glancing at the clock on the wall showed that it was past three in the morning. "I didn't think. Let's get you set up in a room, the one next to Vista's is empty but she's in there so we'll have to be quiet."
Sveta flushed. She was filthy, Weld wouldn't like dirty girls. He led her to her room and silently made her bed for her, fetching spare linens from a small wardrobe in the corner. She almost burst into tears again, he was so nice. All of them, everyone, the world was such a great place to live. She was blessed to have been given this opportunity, even if she died tomorrow she would go with a smile in her heart.
"Let me know if you need anything," Weld whispered on his way out the door. "G'night."
"Night," Sveta whispered back and flopped onto the bed as soon as he closed the door and drove her face into the pillow. It smelt like the blankets at the asylum, but in a good way; like when her night terrors got too awful so they had made her a blanket nest. A familiar comfort.
҉҉҉
4th June
Too many people. Five was too many people. Sveta wilted under their collective gaze, shrinking into her plain grey PRT sweatshirt that had been in her chest of drawers when she checked in them that morning.
Weld sat thankfully next to her, his immense weight almost causing her to fall onto him due to the couches sag. Unthankfully, she didn't need any other reasons to be nervous and this was a big one. Next to Weld sat Kid Win, and on the other couch were Vista, Clockblocker and Flechette.
"It's nice to meet you all," she said in a voice she knew was too quiet to hear but everyone pretended like they'd heard her.
She wished Greg was here, but he'd left her here alone. She didn't know anyone else and she didn't know how to talk to them; for all that she'd gone over dozens of simulations of talking to people in her head over the years, it was nothing like how she imagined when confronted with it in reality.
The mask wasn't making things any easier. Rather than giving her the comfort of a barrier between her and the world it still felt constricting and itchy.
"And it's a pleasure for us all to meet you, too," said Weld, saving her just before the ensuing silence became unbearably awkward. "Everyone, this is Svetlana. She's going to be joining us soon, and she's staying here because she has nowhere else to go."
Sveta stared at the coffee table, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. It was sized for someone a few inches taller than her, making it hang down to near her knees, and she wondered if being five foot four wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Vista. "We'll help you however we can."
"We look after each other," Kid Win followed her up, leaning around Weld slightly to face her.
And now they were talking to her like she was spun sugar, liable to break if you held it slightly too hard. This wasn't what she wanted, what she and Miss Yamada had spent all that time discussing. Sveta didn't want to be some shrinking violet everyone handled with kid gloves. She wanted to take her mask off and talk to them all like a normal person but her hands wouldn't move.
"Thank you," she whispered at a volume that would have put Garotte to shame at how small it was.
There was a sudden clattering sound and Sveta flinched, eyes darting up. Flechette had tossed her visor onto the coffee table and was leaning back in a languid, relaxed slouch. She was a pretty Japanese girl and wore a kind smile.
"We can do away with the masks, right? I'm Lily."
Sveta gasped, hands leaping into motion and clumsily tearing her mask from her face. She almost poked her self in the eye, not having quite gotten a handle on having hands yet despite all of Greg and Amy's help.
"I'm Svetlana," she said in what she was sure was a normal volume. It was best to get it all out at once before she chickened out. "Thank you so much for having me here, I'm sorry if I get in the way at all. Armsmaster said I wasn't allowed to go out yet, but I'll still do my best to help around here."
There was a sudden, almost jarring change in mood. Everyone had leant forward intently when her mask had come off. For a moment she had a gut-wrenching flare of panic, afraid that her face had changed back, then realised it was probably because Amy had made her too hot. She knew it was out of pity, that Amy had done it, but she didn't care. Sveta knew it was selfish to think she deserved it, but it was hers now and there were no takebacks.
She floundered for a moment. Neither Greg nor Amy had reacted to her face like this, what was she supposed to do?
"Sorry I can't be of more help," she said. Yes, that was it, familiar ground. When in doubt, apologise.
"I don't think you'd want to be," Clockblocker's voice cracked. He coughed. "With the Nine on the loose."
"Yeah," Kid Win added as he hastened to remove his visor, placing it on the coffee table. "I'm Chris, by the way."
Sveta smiled awkwardly.
After all the introductions were made and she was assured several times that she needn't feel bad about not being able to join them in any hero work, Vista, or as she now knew, Missy, asked what her power was.
She and Greg had talked about this for a solid hour yesterday after she had worked up the courage to fully change. He had reckoned that the PRT would rate her as a Changer Two, with the same number in Brute, Mover and Stranger subclasses as well as a Thinker One, but seemed sure that the specific way her abilities would interact with each other would synergistically increase their effect.
"Armsmaster said I was a 'fairly classic changer'. I can show you a little."
She didn't want to freak them out, as she was liable to do if she changed her head, so she morphed her hand as the safe option. As before, it was completely, blessedly, under her control. When she had fully transformed for the first time, Greg of course politely turning his back so she could vet herself for the viewing public, she had grown exactly twice as tall and exactly twice as thin, her skin smoothing further into a dark, glossy sheen. This also distorted her features horribly, making her look like a cursed ghost from a cheap Japanese horror movie.
The effect was extremely reminiscent of her tendrils, so much so that she was sure it would be noticed sooner rather than later. Her pencil-thin fingers writhed bonelessly atop an uncannily thin wrist. It disgusted her, that resemblance to Garotte. She would never be free of it, even with her facial mark removed Garotte would always remain in some form.
"I can't change fully here," she continued. "I'd fall out of my clothes."
She wished she hadn't said that. She was getting the distinct feeling that everybody save for Vista would be more than ok with that.
"Best not then, eh?" said Weld, looking reproachfully at the others and proving once again that he was, in fact, a perfect gentleman.
"If you want I can see if I can whip up some kind of hyper-elastic so you can use your powers without that," said Chris.
Sveta nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. Why had she said she'd fall out of her clothes? It wasn't a detail everyone needed to hear. She cursed her honest nature. She was sure that eventually, she'd start a sentence with 'when I was in the asylum…' and ruin everything.
҉҉҉
Some hours later, once everyone else had left to do their jobs and Sveta had taken a nap, she was sitting at the kitchenette bench with her paperwork Battery had left with her. She knew, more or less, how to write in English. She'd done some handwriting in the asylum, preferring to draw, as part of her therapy. Writing journals and such. Writing with hands, however, was a completely different task and her attempts came out like a grade-schooler who would never get their pen licence.
She had a piece of scrap paper she was practising with but wasn't making much progress.
Her hand trembled as she tried to write her name again. What she really wanted was to lock herself up in her room and never come out, but it was going to be impossible to make friends that way. To her, that was the main point of all of this, to join the normal people in the sun. She valued her few friendships she'd made in the asylum greatly, and would definitely find a way to stay in contact with them.
She paused, inspecting an S that came out looking more like the number two backwards. She might just have to get Greg to surreptitiously buy her a book designed to teach children to write. He'd understand that it wasn't because she was retarded.
The vault door opened without warning and Sveta jumped, falling off her chair with a shrill shriek. She flailed wildly, arms extending, suppressing the insight to hide under the couches so she could grab whoever was coming in by the ankles when they sat down and hobble them with her crushing grip. She ended up grabbing onto the edge of the faux-marble countertop hard enough to crack it in her spindly fingers. She looked over her shoulder, neck rotating a hundred and eighty degrees to see Lily standing in the doorway, looking slightly taken aback.
"I'm… sorry?" Lily said. "I didn't mean to freak you out."
Sveta pulled herself upright, turning back into a human again. "No, no, please, I'm sorry. It's not your fault and I broke the table."
She quickly got off the chair, tripping over a leg as she hurried toward Lily and almost falling to the floor. Cringe. More stress nightmares.
"Really, it's no problem. I'm sorry."
Lily shook her head and undid her visor, stretching in a way that produced audible cracks from her spine. Her hair was sweaty and she looked a little haggard, in contrast to Sveta's own well restedness and lovingly brushed hair.
"No worries," Lily smiled. "We all have reason to be jumpy these days, huh?"
Sveta made a noise like 'eheh' and immediately wished she hadn't. She swallowed and spat out the first thing that came to mind. "Indeed, these are dark days."
"They are," Lily agreed instead of calling her pretentious, walking inside and tossing her visor with unerring accuracy onto a couch. "What're you working on over there?"
"I know how to write! It's just, my hands, since I changed, they don't… I'm not used to it yet."
Lily smiled kindly and went over to see. Sveta screwed her eyes shut, bracing for the ensuing mockery of her shit handwriting.
"I remember these," Lily said instead. "It's been years since I thought about them. I'm an orphan too, you know. I can give you a hand with these if you like?"
Sveta exhaled fully. "Please," she said and opened her eyes, carefully walking back to her paperwork.
She retook her seat and Lily sat on the one next to her, pulling it in closer. Lily kind of smelled very sweaty, but Sveta didn't say anything. Lily picked up the pen and spun it around her thumb deftly, like Light from Death Note. It was very impressive, Sveta thought, and she resolved to learn how to do it herself.
"Alrighty, how do you spell Svetlana?"
"How it sounds," said Sveta. "And Karelia i A."
"Cool," Lily said as she jotted it down, then looking up at Sveta and setting the pen down. "I like your accent, by the way. Very soft and smooth. Are you from Russia?"
Sveta made a dissenting noise and shook her head. "My parents are but I was born here. Oh, I mean were. No, I mean…"
Sveta floundered. How were you supposed to talk about your fake dead parents? Maybe she should cry, but she couldn't get sad about her fake dead parents. Maybe if she thought about that time she accidentally saw a video of someone kicking a cat into a wall… Yep, that did it.
Lily gave her a one-armed hug, Sveta had to breath through her mouth, and patted her on the back soothingly.
"It's ok," Lily crooned. "You're safe here."
"Th-thanks."
"I'm always here if you want to talk," Lily gave her a squeeze that lasted a slightly uncomfortably long amount of time before settling back into her chair.
Sveta didn't know what someone who had just lost her parents to an Endbringer attack, and she still felt guilty about trampling on the people who had lost just that with this lie, would say to this. She'd just said thanks, would saying it again be too much? In the end, she just nodded and made a noise to indicate she understood and was grateful.
Lily patted her on the back once more and picked up the pen. "Your gender if female, I presume?" she said with a smile, already circling it.
Lily was so nice.
҉҉҉
5th June
Too many people, way, way too many people! Ten was simply too much. Sveta tried to turn away, move back to the safety of her little room in the PRT building and pull her covers over her head but her legs wouldn't move.
Greg's hand bumped her on the back, forcing her to take a step forward. She glared up at him with watery, panicked eyes and he smiled encouragingly.
He was wearing a magical disguise that he'd made to look like her. The same colour hair and eyes, the same delicate cast to his features with a very strong jaw; the effect was very handsome in a pretty boy way, he looked like a fitness model who'd had a bit of work done on his face. It made it easier to remember to call him 'Chadovich Karelia', he was playing the part of her twin brother.
"First day of school," he said in the same gentle Russian accent, looking out over the ten whole people milling around outside the school gates.
Sveta made a funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. She didn't like exposure therapy, it wasn't like she needed to be a normal person today. They could come to school any old day, even if this was the most convenient and Greg had taken a vacation day for her so they could get her fake name in the system to make it easier for her to become a full member of the Wards.
"Relax, homie," he said calmly. "I'll be with you all day, and we can leave during lunch break if it's too much."
She knew he was just trying to give her the normality she so desperately craved. Normal teenagers went to high school, thus she would go to high school. She started to hyperventilate and he pushed on her back again, almost pushing her over, and she stumbled forward. Sveta kept her eyes on the ground as they headed through the gates, but even so, she could still tell everyone was staring at them.
She fiddled with the hem of her new, plain white buttoning shirt. They weren't staring because she was weird, they were staring because Svetlana and Chadovich were extremely hot.
"Good day," Greg said to someone who walked up to them. Sveta glanced up, it was some kind of security guard.
The guard grunted in reply. "Weapons?"
"We do not."
There was a pause. "In you go."
Greg urged her forward again and she almost tripped over her feet on her own this time, scuffing her new sneakers. Greg had said the shirt, skirt, tights and sneakers were a present from all the Wards, and that they'd try and get her more clothes so she wasn't stuck in her free PRT sweats and underthings.
The school, from her furtive glances, looked just like it did in television dramas. Except for the security guards everywhere, but that was sort of expected or so she'd been told. This was the very first day the schools were opening, almost a rush job, but given that with Armsmaster taking out the Archer's Bridge Merchants removing a lot of rioting and looting apparently it was felt it was safe enough to open schools again.
"Damn, this place shits on Winslow," Greg mused as they walked. "And to think the rest of them got to go here the whole time, I got seriously shortchanged."
"Winslow was the bad one?" Sveta vaguely remembered him bitching about that at some point.
"The worst. Full of gangs and shit. Apparently, Clarendon is nicer than here, but Arcadia is public."
"Oh."
"I won't be able to come back, probably, but if you ever want to you'll be safe here. Apparently, we actually are going to be getting some new Protectorate transferred in," Greg said this softly as they came closer to another guard. "And they're going to get stationed here for a week before cycling to the other schools."
Normally that would excite her, but Sveta was concentrating on not throwing up.
Eventually, they came to an office, which was thankfully almost empty. A security guard, two secretaries and one other student. Four. She could handle four.
Greg led her to the secretary who wasn't busy.
"Good morning," he said softly, slipping back into character so seamlessly that Sveta thought she might actually forget he was Greg.
"Oh, good morning…" There was a heavy tone of confusion in the secretaries voice like she'd been thrown off-kilter. "What are you after?"
"My sister and I would like to join classes," Greg gestured to her.
"Oooookay," the secretary glanced up at down at them, trying to find out if this was some kind of trick. "Which classes? You'll have all the core ones, did you take any others?"
Greg smiled genially, which seemed to calm the secretary down some. "I'm afraid to cause trouble for you, but we were homeschooled so I'm not sure how we will fit into your curriculum."
"Yeah? Well, it shouldn't be a problem. Homeschoolers take all the same classes."
"Apologies again, but we weren't traditionally schooled and I'm unsure how our education maps onto your system. If it's no trouble, could you walk us through it and enter us into your system?"
The way he said this was convincing, magnetic in a way he normally wasn't. There was something charismatic there, some combination of voice tone and body posture like he'd rolled a nat twenty on his check. It had to be a power, Sveta realised, some kind of subtle charisma power. She could only see half his face, but even then she could fully believe that Chadovich was a real person and not some persona hastily thrown together at the last minute, and the secretary was getting the full force of it.
"Of course," the secretary said automatically. "No trouble at all. Follow me, please."
Greg turned and smiled at her smugly behind the secretaries back, which was not an expression she would ever imagine Chadovich making, as they were led over to a desk with a single chair in front of it. Greg chivalrously pulled the chair out for her, then stood slightly in front of her.
"I'm sorry for not introducing us," Greg said. "I'm Chadovich Karelia, and this is my sister, Svetlana."
"No, no need to be sorry. I'm Kassidy," Kassidy smiled widely. "Pleasure to meet you."
Oh, ew. Sveta recognised that kind of smile, but Kassidy had to be at least twenty-five! Sure, the Chadovich disguise was very handsome indeed, but she was so old! Sveta sent her a reproachful glare, but Kassidy gave her a soothing look so it had probably come out as panicky.
"And don't you two worry," she continued, tapping in a username and password. "We'll have you both sorted out in a jiffy. Let me just find the new student registry page… Ah, here we go. How do you spell your names?"
Greg handled the talking. He was very good at talking when he wanted to be, in stark contrast to her. This was all so much easier online; maybe she could get a text to speech device and claim she was mute? Ah, no, she was a new Sveta now. She had arms and hair and everything, she couldn't let her being a coward ruin her life. On the other hand, maybe Chris would make her a text to speech thingy. He was very nice, too, so he might if she asked nicely.
She watched despairingly as Kassidy unquestioningly provided everything Greg was asking for. Was it possible to learn this power? Sure, it was her job to help students, but it seemed way too easy. Within minutes they were being handed printed out class schedules and laminated student ID's, Kassidy almost following them out the door in a way that Sveta thought would get her employee of the month.
"Thank you so much, Kassidy," Greg said with a lingering smile and lots of eye contact.
Also gross, and what would his girlfriend think? Sveta knew it was all an act, but still. Sveta fumed silently until Greg whispered to her once they were out of earshot.
"Damn, that was weird. Is this what being hot is like?"
"I wouldn't know," Sveta sniped back.
"Yeah, me either," he snickered, handing over her schedule and ID. "How do I get this jawline in real life?"
Sveta instantly felt guilty. Greg's real face was very round, and it didn't look like he'd ever grow into the chiselled features of Chadovich, he'd probably only ever had his mother and maybe Savannah tell him he was handsome, while her own face was artisanally beautiful; the first person she'd shown beside Greg and Amy having told her so. Well, no more, she'd make that number three!
"Your real face is handsome, too."
"Thanks, Svets," he said, but she could tell he knew she was lying.
He wasn't ugly though, just… round. She didn't think pressing that point would cheer him up. Maybe Amy would help him if she asked? But that would just make him think she thought he was so ugly he needed help as she had. Sveta bit at her immaculate thumbnail. She'd find a way.
They wound through the halls, past the regularly stationed security, passing the occasional student, and ended up at their first class. Her first-ever class as a school student. The realisation hit her like Eustace Bagge's mallet. She was a student now, she would go to school and make friends and each cafeteria lunch and win spelling bee prizes! She could do this.
They collected a printout from the bored-looking teacher and took adjacent seats. Greg winked, dipping his hand into his trouser pocket and pulling out a pen she knew was never there and handed it to her. Sveta took it confidently and looked down at her work.
Her vision fuzzed, breath shallow. A tear dripped onto the paper. She didn't know any of this, she'd never been to school. She knew basic times tables and how to add and subtract, that was it. Greg apparently noticed because rather quickly he was leading her back out of the classroom and into some sort of enclosed courtyard. He made her sit on a blue painted bench away from the smattering of other students and gave her a bottle of water.
She sipped feebly.
"It's my bad," Greg said, sitting down next to her.
"No, I'm just pathetic. Why am I even crying, because I don't know what the spades symbol in maths means?"
Greg kicked one leg over the other, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "I honestly never considered this, but, if you end up joining the Wards we have grade requirements so you don't need to worry. They'll throw tutors at you until you're up to speed. And of course, I'll help you as much as I can, and so will everyone else."
He snorted.
"You should ask Weld, he'll teach you a lot of different things."
Sveta inhaled her water and Greg patted her on the back as she coughed and spluttered.
"I should never have told you!"
Greg leant back again, smiling sweetly. "He thinks you're hot. If you spent a few weeks getting private lessons, slowly start sitting closer to each other, start vibing…"
Greg made an Italian hand gesture, then kissed it.
"I think you would be good together, you could bond over being good people."
"But I'd be lying to him."
Greg didn't look at her, clicking his teeth. "Yes, you would, yes. I don't think that should stop you, because it won't be forever and he'll understand."
"You said he can't be changed like I was."
"I wish there were some other way," he said softly, expression complicated. "With all the power interactions… maybe Scapegoat? Someone like Scapegoat? But how many dimensions deep does it go…"
He exhaled loudly through his nose, turning partially to look at her with profoundly sad eyes.
"I'm going to be Triumvirate," he said.
End of A Daring Synthesis
Or rather, you may consider this the end of 'A daring synthesis', the following arc being the start of book two; 'A glib facsimile'.
It's better this way.