A/N: My writing speed for the next 7 days will likely be slower than before because I'm going back to the army. Considering Covid-19, things are likely going to be different and I don't know how it's going to be like. We'll see how conducive it is for me to continue writing.


Chapter 138: Hostile Visitation

B-47, B-48 and B-49 Psychiatric Report 03221989-01

DOC: 22 MAR (Wednesday) 1989.

Created by: Head of Psychiatry and Social Services Alice

Title: The Buttercup Question

Recent events have necessitated that this report must be non-routine.

I had initially thought that gaining access to Buttercup today would be exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, but my expectations were proven to be wrong. Surprisingly, Buttercup appears to have made a 180 degrees turn in terms of attitude. Where she used to be hostile, even potentially (and practically) homicidal, she is now incredibly friendly. Where she used to be selfish, and greedy, and unthoughtful, she is now exceedingly gracious and thoughtful.

While I am not averse to good news and accepting whatever victory has come my way, this abrupt change is screaming… something. Psychology-wise, severe psychopathy does not just right itself and disappear into vapor. It is a lifelong condition with no cure and not even any reliable methods for management. Let me repeat: There is NO CURE and BARELY ANY MANAGEMENT METHODS for psychopathy. The best we can hope for is a slim chance that the psychopathy patient adopts a pro-social stance after recognizing that playing by the rules and making people happy are the most cost-effective and least risky ways of obtaining rewards.

The turn-around in Buttercup is flying in the face of conventional psychiatry. However, 'conventional' does not really apply to Buttercup considering that her physiology is modified by Chemical-X. This naturally extends to her neurological make-up.

I have taken the opportunity to speak to Buttercup's sole remaining primary caretaker, Professor Utonium, regarding this development, focusing on her physiology. He tried his best to simplify the science behind Buttercup's enhancements, but despite this and the disciplinary overlap between our professions, I have not been able to understand everything as yet.

What I do understand, however, is that much of this is uncharted territory. Professor Utonium is hopeful when it comes to Buttercup. His working theory is that the Chemical X in Buttercup is presently correcting the neurological imbalance in her, resulting in normal, empathetic behavior. Why it has taken this long to effect the current desired changes, however, is currently unknown. The professor suggests that it could be due to a trigger - environmental and combat stress has often resulted in new abilities in Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, so it is within the realm of possibility.

There is no evidence supporting the professor's theories, however. He promises to run Buttercup through a battery of medical examinations first thing tomorrow after school.

This leads me to the other outstanding topic regarding Buttercup. I do not think that punishing Buttercup for the Run-Away Event is prudent at this point. Her experience, as she described it, is punishment enough, but that's not why I take issue with your decision, Director Cliff. If you punish her, you could undo the progress Buttercup has made so far, as uncertain as it is. You will just be giving her another reason to attempt another Run-Away Event and risk a few Tantrum Events along the way.

P.S: Attached is an excerpt of the transcript of my session with Buttercup, as transcribed by Admin.

B-47 Psychiatric Session TH-03221989-01 Excerpt

-TRANSCRIPT START-

Alice: Tell me about your experience while you were running away, Buttercup.

Buttercup: (crying) I was hungry all the time. I tried to get some food, but I kept getting into fights and… and…

Alice: (pause) It's… alright that you're upset by this. Perfectly normal…

Buttercup: I didn't mean to kill those people.

Alice: (pause) I… believe you. What happened after that?

Buttercup: (crying) I had to sleep on the streets and it was cold and I was still hungry and… and… can I get a hug?

Alice: Sure. (sound of Buttercup getting off the couch) It's alright, let it out. Shh… It's okay.

Buttercup: I'm sorry, Miss Alice.

Alice: Hey, it's really okay. I know it's hard sometimes, but don't forget that you're still a kid, a little girl, just one possessing great power and responsibility.

Buttercup: No, I'm sorry I've said all those mean things to you before. I won't do it again.

Alice: Oh. Well, I've had worse. I don't mind as long as it helps you.

Buttercup: I'm still sorry.

Alice: Why the sudden change, Buttercup?

Buttercup: I missed being at home and being with Dad and Blossom and Bubbles… I guess when I was outside, I missed eating at home and sleeping in bed, playing with Blossom and Bubbles, and hearing Dad telling his stories…

Alice: So you regret running away?

Buttercup: Yes…

Alice: And you won't do it again?

Buttercup Yes… (pause) Why are you looking at me that way? Did I say something wrong, Miss Alice?

Alice: Nothing, I guess I'm just tired, that's all. I'm just glad that you're back, Buttercup.

Buttercup: So am I.

-TRANSCRIPT END-

Reply by Director Cliff

If you will excuse me, Alice, I'm not entirely convinced by this charade B-48 has put up. She sounds exactly like a kid who's trying to get out of trouble. Anyway, we have bigger problems. Townsville wants blood. It does not matter if B-48 is sincere or not. Everyone from Mayor Wilford down to the Townsville Police Union is threatening to stop working with us if we do not give them what they want.

B-48 will be punished tomorrow, no matter what happens. If you have a problem with that, take it up with General Blackwater as he will be deciding the punishment.


The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

23 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 0519.

Buttercup hadn't been able to sleep at all. A mix of euphoria from her recent successes in fooling everyone around her and the pulsing need for stimulation from violence and non-violent sources kept her up.

It didn't help that Blossom's arm kept flopping on top of her every time she pushed it off. It was amazing how quickly Blossom's stance had changed just because she shed a few tears and offered a few fake words of comfort. But she couldn't take all the credit. She'd eavesdropped on Professor Utonium and Alice taking Blossom and Bubbles to one side and defending her actions, explaining them away as childish mistakes and acts of desperation, made worse by a 'mental sickness' she couldn't control.

Pushing Blossom's arm off of her for the last time, Buttercup got off her bed. Hovering to the door, she left the room and went into the washroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that her face was pristine - all the wounds inflicted by Blossom had disappeared due to her enhanced healing factor.

The room was darker than normal, for some reason. The light was even pulsing a little. Whether it was failing or not, Buttercup hadn't thought about it. She couldn't help but admire herself in the mirror. The pupils of her eyes glowed ghoulish green and she never failed to get a kick out of it. She thought it made her look fearsome, like a demon. She knew how a demon looked like from the odd graffiti in the streets or advertisements in the cleaner places.

After drinking a little water from the tap, Buttercup left the washroom, intent on going back to sleep as she was still a little drowsy.

But something else had other plans for her. A black, swirling vortex at the end of the corridor, where a window used to be.

"Buttercup…" a feminine voice whispered to her from the dark.

Buttercup hovered closer to the vortex, wondering what it was doing in The House.

"Buttercup…" the voice sang to her, its tone getting deeper.

She hovered ever closer to the vortex, studying it. She lit up her eyes to use as torchlights, shining them into the swirling mass of darkness, but it didn't illuminate what was inside if there was anything inside at all.

But what she did saw was that the vortex wasn't just a swirling mass of black goo. There were small, screaming faces and tiny hands surfacing out from the darkness before receding back in again. She thought she could hear their screams of horror and moans of agony, but even with her enhanced hearing, she wasn't sure. Psionic echoes, perhaps? Not that Buttercup knew the concept. She reached out to touch it-

Which was when a pair of clawed arms shot out of the vortex to pull her in, screaming and struggling.

Buttercup opened her eyes widely. Darkness was everywhere. Her eyes had lit up instinctively, but still, her ocular luminescence couldn't illuminate any ceiling or walls. It was only because she could feel the slimy ground below her that she knew that there was a floor, to begin with. She was missing some time; she didn't remember falling down, but she was now on her back.

She got back up, and she was immediately greeted by a familiar face rimmed with short hair and long goatee coating a Habsburg-like chin, a muscled red-skinned thing on sharp high-heels at the ends of thigh-high boots.

It was Him. He had his arms folded before him, studying her as one would a rabbit or a chihuahua.

"Wakey wakey," Him said condescendingly. "We meet again."

Buttercup was getting used to Him, or at least she thought she was. Fear had been a knee-jerk reaction, but she was able to calm down after some time.

"Why am I here?" Buttercup asked; daring herself to be a little angry at Him for preventing her from going back to sleep.

"Why? WHY!?" Him screamed, the tone of his voice deep all of a sudden, causing Buttercup to jump. That was something she would need more time to get used to. His eyes had even glowed red briefly. Him would then calm down almost immediately. He even chuckled upon seeing the dread all over Buttercup's face. "To congratulate you, of course."

"For what?" Buttercup asked softly, cowed by Him's outburst.

"Why, for changing so quickly to meet my… requests," Him said, his voice veering from feminine to masculine and back randomly. He came closer towards Buttercup and picked her up by her sides. Buttercup stiffened up no matter how much she willed herself to be braver. "No one appreciates that more than I do - it's their loss... and my gain…"

He sat Buttercup down on his forearm. The muscles there were rock-hard, and he seemed to be able to handle her weight effortlessly as if she was just a clutch of feathers.

"I don't know… It's getting kinda boring…" Buttercup moaned. "When will I get to betray them?"

"When? The time will come when it comes," Him said. He hadn't exploded this time, surprisingly.

"You know…" Him continued, pressing his face close to Buttercup's. Up close, Him's facial makeup, or at least what appeared to be make-up, was apparent. There was a certain otherworldly quality to Him, as if his every part didn't quite make sense, as if what she was seeing was only what her mind could process. "I could always make it more fun… and interesting for you…" He rubbed his cheek against Buttercup's. She dared not move, and she could feel claw-like fingers forming behind her and stroking the back of her head.

"Here, let me show you something!" Him suddenly exclaimed. The world went bright red out of the blue, causing Buttercup to jump. Where did the light come from?

Wherever it came from, it didn't last very long. Soon, the blindness faded, but the same miasmic darkness did not return. Instead, Buttercup found herself sitting down on a picnic mat. She could feel a gentle breeze before she could see anything in front of her. But she knew that it was red, wherever she was.

She squinted her eyes and saw two figures before her, sitting down with her. Her eyes were too blurry to make out who they were, but she could just about judge that they were the same size as her, colored the same green and black as her.

She squinted again, but she didn't need to struggle much longer as her eyes were able to recover quickly. The two little girls before her had turned out to be Blossom and Bubbles, except changed, and it wasn't subtle.

Were they even the same people as her sisters? They were exactly the same as they used to be, except that their hair color was as raven black as hers. The bioluminescence in their eyes was the same hue: lime-green. They even wore the same clothes as her…

Not that Buttercup remembered putting on her everyday dress. She thought she had been wearing her pajamas all along.

They were smiling at her, but their smiles this time was different. They were slavish, subservient. They made no moves, not to eat the Chemical-X-dripping food before them, not even to scratch an itch. They just stared at her, as if waiting for her to give them an order.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Him's familiar, chilling voice came from behind. Buttercup could immediately feel HIm's arms around her. She hadn't noticed at all that he'd been reclining on the picnic mat behind her.

"Who are they?" Buttercup asked. They couldn't be her sisters, could they? Last she knew, they were fast asleep in bed. Or did Him just change them for her as a reward for her obedience?

"They're your sisters, of course," Him laughed. "But not your real sisters… At least not yet. I just want to show you what the future will be like..."

For a second, Buttercup had actually believed that Him had transformed her sisters to be just like her. Him had gotten her hopes up only for it to crash and burn. But what he said intrigued her.

"You mean they're going to be… just like me?" Buttercup guessed based on the color scheme of her 'new sisters'.

"Yes, exactly. My, my, you're a smart one…" Him praised Buttercup patronizingly, petting her head as though she was a dog that had performed a newly-mastered trick. "But here's the catch. You're going to turn them into good little girls like you…"

"But how? They're nothing like me!" Buttercup grumbled. "They're boring, and- and they're really weak, stupid, and they don't like the same stuff as me!"

"It's not so hard, little Buttercup," Him continued to butter up his new recruit. "You've already tricked them into believing that you've changed. Yes… yes… And all you have to do now is to whisper… suggestions into their ears now that you have them. They're bound to believe you… to believe that you have their best interests in mind. And who's to say you don't? Change them; get them to join me, and you'll have sisters who're exactly like you… Who will follow your every beck and call… Isn't that tempting?"

"I would love that," Buttercup said.

"Good, then it's time to GET BACK TO WORK!" Him screamed at his last few words.

Buttercup jumped, scrambling to get up. Only, she didn't remember ever lying back down in the first place. Looking around, she discovered that she was back in her room, and it was still dark. She could hear Blossom snoring lightly and contentedly next to her, at the pink center of the bed, her hands clutching her arm. She shook them off.

Buttercup stroked Blossom's cheek in an ironic display of affection.

"Blossom, Blossom, how long are you going to be the leader?" Buttercup said, before chuckling quietly. Was it a dream? Or did she actually have a real run-in with Him? It didn't matter. Buttercup was inspired. It just kept getting better and better. Not only was she going to have her revenge, but she's also going to twist her sisters inside-out without them knowing it!


The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

23 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 0742.

Blossom had been eating her cereals without paying attention to it. She had been thinking about last night. She dreamed about Bunny again, and this time, she watched as Bunny was painting something on a canvas. It took some time, but soon, a blue horizon over lush, green grass could be discerned. At first, Blossom couldn't understand what she was painting. All she could make out were six figures, two tall, four really short.

It took some time, but it became apparent that it was their family, and it was painted perfectly. Only, Bunny objected to that description, insisting that Mom had been drawn all wrong, and so was Buttercup. Yet Blossom couldn't tell at all: it was all so photorealistic that it might as well had come from a camera!

And then it was all gone, leaving Blossom to wonder what was going on while she was lying in bed.

While Blossom was zoning out, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Buttercup volunteered the moment she heard it, continuing her act.

"I wonder if it's Alice?" Bubbles said, smiling at the thought of seeing another friendly face again. With their recent losses, it was becoming a premium luxury.

"Or Mister Blake?" Blossom was shaken awake - belatedly - by the doorbell. The guessing game was kept alive by the curtain, which was drawn. "I hope he's better now…"

Professor Utonium got up from his cereal, but he couldn't even leave the table by the time Buttercup had reached the door. He had other ideas of who it could be, and it wasn't as optimistic.

"Buttercup, wait!" he warned her, but it was too late. Buttercup opened the door, beaming convincingly while she did.

General Blackwater stood in the doorway, surrounded by heavily armed and armored guards. Buttercup looked down at their weapons and saw Duranium shining their usual, otherworldly way; they were packing Duranium weaponry.

"If it isn't our dearest Buttercup-" the general said tersely. The professor rushed up next to Buttercup, pulling her to his chest and carrying her as if a father shielding a child from a car crash.

"-And our beloved Professor Utonium," the general went on. "You know, you're doing more harm than good, protecting her like this."

"You're making a big mistake! She's changed for the better, learned from her mistakes!" the professor defended Buttercup as he held on to her tightly. "You weren't there to see it!"

"Oh, I've seen plenty," the general said as he clambered through the doorway like some invading monster, his guards following behind him. "Two dead, one of them a mother of three and a loving wife to a father working his ass off in one of the worst parts of Townsville to support his family, all because Buttercup wanted a candy bar. Right, Buttercup?"

"It won't bring them back!" the professor retorted. "You'll cause more harm-"

"Every second we wait WILL cause more harm. Townsville would have done worse had their laws and jurisdiction allowed it. Balls' in our court, prof. We give them what they want, and everything goes back to how it was: a warzone where we stand a chance at winning the whole God-damn theater," the general lectured the professor.

"Don't take her away from me, please! Not like this! Not when she's seen the light and grown from this!" the professor cried and begged. Buttercup hated him for it even while she was trying to act the opposite. She had never looked up to him before, and this was the very reason why.

"What are you talking about, prof?" the general said, "I'm only going to 'borrow' Buttercup."

"What are you going to do?" the professor asked, still weeping and trying to hold it together.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to destroy one of the USDO's most powerful assets?" the general asked rhetorically, question for question, before answering himself: "No. But there's a way to give Townsville what it wants and keep Buttercup at the same time for future deployments."

"Dad, it's fine," Buttercup said, even remembering to call the professor 'dad' in front of everyone else. She wriggled out of the professor's arms like a slippery fish before facing him. "I shouldn't have killed those people. I was wrong and I should be punished…"

Not to mention, it would shatter any suspicions anyone might have for her.

"Consider me surprised," the general said, though his dead tone did not betray his emotions. "Well spoken, private. But you're still going to have to be disciplined." He stepped aside, as did his men before gesturing for Buttercup to leave The House. "Right this way, kid. It's time to face the music."

"R-right now?" Surprisingly, it was the professor who said this. Without a word, Buttercup hovered out the door and towards a convoy of USDO military vehicles. She was stopped half-way by the guards, who relieved her of her weapons and slapped a pair of Duranium cuffs on her. Another guard pulled a strange pistol out of his holster, a grey revolver-like thing, except it had no cylinder. It was almost shaped the same way as a flaregun. After backing away a few paces, he raised the weapon and squeezed the trigger. Buttercup saw too late that there was a word printed on the side of the weapon: 'Anti-X'. By then, a glass canister had struck her in the chest, shattering into a cloud of white smoke. She collapsed on the ground, suddenly incapable of flight. Without empathy, one of the guards pulled her to her feet immediately. While still coughing and heaving for breath, four guards with Duranium anti-material rifles escorted Buttercup towards an APC.

'What was that!?" the professor exclaimed at the door, alarmed that Anti-X was deployed so casually upon Buttercup.

"Oh, don't worry about it," General Blackwater said, though he was anything but reassuring. "It's probably just shock. There's only enough Anti-X in one of those canisters to weaken Buttercup for a couple o' hours."

"Blossom, Bubbles, get in the car now!" the professor shouted.

It appeared that they would have to skip school again.