Snuggles The Symbiote
"So the thing ya need to know about Taskmaster," the orange, rock-skinned man said in explanation, "is that you wanna take him out fast because the longer the fight goes on the better he's gonna get at fightin' ya. Now, since he's mostly just a normal guy your instinct is gonna be to hold back, but he's surprisingly resilient. Made a full recovery from being kneecapped, last I heard. Don't go crazy and rip his arms off or nothing but don't worry about breaking a few bones."
Ashley nodded. "So I should have just gone straight for the groin punch instead of trying a fancy kick?"
I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting a huge rock-monster to be able to grimace. It was quite frankly one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. "Yeah," he said slowly, "that'd work. But... Okay, let's move onto practical matters."
Mister Grimm, the Thing, had offered to help Ashley go over what she'd done wrong yesterday. Other than drilling into her head not to rush headfirst into a fight, which Mrs. Storm-Richards had done shortly after the fight had happened. Ashley had enthusiastically accepted, and I was monitoring because this house had a portal to an alternate dimension full of conquering warlords and if I couldn't trust Ashley not to rush into a random crime we stumbled across I couldn't trust her not to do anything with that.
We were in some kind of exercise room, and right now he had her punching his giant palm. "So what ya wanna do is step forward and turn with your hip. Put yer whole body into it."
You know, I'm pretty sure this is the first time anyone had thought any of us any proper combat skills... In hindsight, that made me worry about the priorities of the management back home. I really needed to get around to calling the Youth Guard.
It was a bit curious though. I'd been led to believe that taking codices gave Ashley memories and I can guarantee that nobody taught her how to use a sword. Why did she need help to learn how to punch?
The boy, Franklin, the boy who supposedly created universes for fun, came in without knocking. To be completely honest, I didn't much care for him. Something about the way he walked, the way he talked... I couldn't put my finger on it, but it didn't sit right with me. I tried to be polite to him all the same, but still.
"Uncle Ben?" He said, "Dad wants to see you in his lab."
"Ah, okay," he Thing said, "kid," he said to Ashley, "I'll be back in a bit." And then he left, while Franklin walked over and leaned against the wall. right next to me.
The Thing's departure prompted Ashley to summon her sword and start... Playing wasn't the right word, but I wasn't sure it was practice, either.
"I remember being that age," Franklin said.
"Yeah. Excitable, talking a mile a minute, looking up to and desperately wanting to be a superhero," I shared.
"Knowing that you've got a great deal of power, wanting to use it, looking up to and desperately wanting to be a superhero," Franklin replied in kind.
"Miraculously bouncing back from things that give your parents or guardians a heart attack."
"Getting banished to hell and killing the Devil."
I blinked and turned to Franklin. "What?"
"Okay, I was younger than she was when that happened, but... Yeah, I may have had an unusual childhood," he admitted.
"So," I began to change the subject, "you talk a big game. You claim to have the power of a God... But I've never seen you do anything. the rest of your family use your powers pretty casually, so..." He winced.
"...there's this thing called the Godsource," Franklin explained slowly. "Or, well, a bunch of things collectively called that. I don't know the science. It's like, endless wells of different kinds of extradimensional energy that get tapped by superhumans, but every superhuman tap it differently. My parents? Uncle Ben and Uncle Johnny? They're each other's conduits, they draw their power from the Godsource through each other. Caused some problems a while back while we were separated across the multiverse."
"And Dad's done a bunch of tests to confirm it: My connection's broken. I can't replenish my energy, once it's gone it's gone, so every time I used even a little bit of my power I get that much weaker. My powers have come and gone before, but..."
"That can happen!?" I hadn't been thinking that Ashley had been paying attention, but apprently she was. She stopped playing with her sword and was starring at Franklin with her face contorted into a mask of pure horror.
"Yeah. And my Dad doesn't know how to fix it," Franklin said, "so until he figures it out or we find some other way, I have to conserve my power and use just the right amount only when it's necessary or then I'm powerless."
"Would that really be so bad, not having powers?"
"You've been walking all your life. You've got a runner's build, I bet you're pretty athletic," swing and a miss. I jog, but not... "Imagine one day, you find out you've got an untreatable injury that gets worse every time you use your legs and eventually not only will you not be able to run anymore, but you also won't even be able to walk. Would that really be so bad?"
Well, didn't I feel like a bitch for saying that. "...Yeah... It would. Sorry."
"It's fine... I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you haven't had your powers for very long?"
"A couple of months," I admitted. "And some of them only a few weeks."
"Superpowers aren't these things that are separate from you," Franklin said, "they're not a weapon your pick up or clothes you put on and take off: They're just as much a part of you as your arms, your legs, or your eyes are. At least, that's how I see it. It might be different for people who werren't born with them."
The conversation trailed off. Franklin continued to lean, Ashley went back to playing with her sword, and I just kind of stood there. Every so often I'd notice Ashley glancing at Franklin in concern and... wait. No.
That last one looked hungry. Did... did Ashley have a crush on Franklin? Oh God, I was just getting used to the idea of being a big sister to a little girl who kept getting into danger, I can't deal with this too and... Wait, how old was I when I had my first crush? Maybe it's nothing.
It was at that point that the Thing came back in. "Stretcho can build a machine that lets him invade Heaven so he can drag me kickin' and screamin' back to the land of the living but somehow I'm still the best way to lift up somethin' heavy. So, where were we?"
Snuggles The Symbiote
After a short while, I figured that the Thing could be trusted to keep Ashley out of trouble for a little bit.
Which left me alone in a house that wasn't mine with nothing to do.
The thought had occurred to me that recently my entire life had revolved around a small child that I'd known for maybe a month. I didn't regret any of it, but I was starting to think that I had no clue what I was getting into when I agreed to be Ashley's foster sister.
That Lisa girl, the 'former' criminal who reminded me just a little too much of Emma and... Thought for later. She was talking to the fabulously dressed man who I'd been led to believe was a wizard. It was a lot more believable when he was wearing a cape that moved on its own. I couldn't make out their conversation, but it ended with him gifting Lisa a book or journal of some kind that looked handbound in soft leather.
He stood up, looked around, and, seeing me, came over. "Now, if I remember my names you're Ashley's foster sister, Taylor?" I nodded. "Where is she? I've got something she should know."
"The Thing is teaching her to throw a proper punch," was my response. "On a scale of one to ten, how important is it that she here's it immediately? Is it something you could tell me and I could tell her later or is this a doctor-patient confidentiality situation?"
"It's nothing that serious, it's just that I've consulted with a few tomes and cross-referenced with sorcerers more experienced in demonic matters and determined that, since her symbiote is already infused with and adapted to the power of a Ghost Rider, the worst-case scenario if her Hell-Mark permanently activates is that she'll slowly, over the course of a few years, transform into a Ghost Rider in addition to everything else, with the Hell-Mark and her symbiote taking the place of a Spirit of Vengence."
I blinked. "And that's a good thing?"
"It's the difference between getting slowly stronger over a few years and being consigned to be the Warden of Hell for all eternity," Doctor Strange said with a completely straight face.
"Got it, I'll let her know once I get a second alone with her," I said while trying not to show how frightening I found the very fact that this was a serious conversation was.
"Though do try to make contact with me if she takes in a significant degree of demonic energy or gets possessed or something because that could change the prognosis significantly." Seriously, a month ago I'd have thought that someone had to be crazy to say something like that with a straight face.
As I bid Doctor Strange goodbye, Dr. Richard's voice rang through the air on an intercom of some kind that I could find no sign of.
"Attention guests, in his capacity as current king and All-Father of Asgard, Thor has decided to invite you to spend a day in Asgard. If you're interested, change into your costumes and be in the laboratory in fifteen minutes."
That's the kind of thing it would have been nice to know about earlier today. Did Thor literally just send the invitation, or...? I wasn't gonna think about it.
I was going to think about how I could hear Ashley's squeal of excitement from several rooms away while I went to go change
Fifteen minutes later, standing next to a foster sister who was vibrating in anticipation, a demented serial killer that my foster sister was trying to rehabilitate, a Vista who's costume was slightly too small(apprently getting her hulk form under control needed more effort and it took her a few minutes to change) and a Dean who was quite imposing in his muscly armored form.
Lisa was the last one to come in, wearing a purple tuxedo with matching domino mask and tophat and holding the staff that disturbingly like Ashley's symbiote. Her reformed, superhero, identity was going with a stage magician theme similar to but not identical to what her future self had used.
And Dr. Richards was putting the finishing touches on some modification to his teleporter. "Now, children, if this modification works I should be able to teleport you across dimensional boundaries and deposited you on the Asgardian side of the Rainbow Bridge."
"And if it doesn't work?" I asked.
"I've set it to teleport you to the living room if something goes wrong," he said with certainty. "In which case, I will reply back to Thor and he'll send someone to escort you across the bridge manually."
Ashley proceeded to wrap a tentacle around each of us. I gave her a pat on the head to reassure her and noticed that her gaze occasionally turned to the canister of writing red slime that had been retrieved from those Villains that Ashley and Dean had fought. "Did you manage to get in touch with the people who owned that warehouse?"
"Yes," Dr. Richards said without even looking away from his work. "Per Elizabeth Alan, C.E.O. and acting dominant shareholder of Alchemex, they extracted the remains of the Carnage symbiote from a victim that Norman Osborn was controlling with it when he bonded to Carnage to bypass nanomachines that suppressed his existing powers and placed it in storage becuase they weren't able to figure out how to destroy it. She said that if we can kill it we can keep it until we figure out how."
"Did she try setting it on fire?" Ashley asked.
"Yes. And using sonics. And Agent Anti-Venom almost burned out his powers healing others and inflicting only minor harm on Osborn when he was using it, to hear the story, and so wasn't considered," Dr. Richards confirmed and continued. "Apprently, the Goblin Formula has an exponentially greater effect on Symbiotes than it does on humans. I'm considering loading it into a space probe and launching it into the sun, but I'm not sure if that would work and I don't want to be responsible for some kind of Solar Powered Super Carnage rampaging across the cosmos."
"Mister Snuggles says that other than destroying it with fire and sound, the only way to get rid of a symbiote is for another symbiote to eat it," Ashley said slowly. "We can't feel a mind in there, just some echoes of instinct. We could probably just..."
Dr. Richards stopped what he was doing and fully turned around. "I've done some questionable or irresponsible things in my life, but Norman Osborn is in a secure cell at the Ravencroft Institute for the Criminally Insane convinced that he's Cletus Kassady because he messed with that thing, and this sample has been treated with the Goblin formula, a drug that's been known to cause hallucinations, various violent psychoses, identity dissociation, and sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies." His eyes narrowed. "I would have no right to call myself a Superhero, a Scientist, a Father, or a Human Being if I knowingly allowed a child to take something as dangerous and toxic as this into their system under any circumstances. If it comes to that, I will call Venom, inform him of the risks, and feed it to his symbiote if he agrees. Have I made myself clear?"
"Crystal sir," was Ashley's reply. She sounded like she was ashamed of herself for even asking. I gave her another reassuring head pat.
"Now, everyone stand on the telepad."
It took a bit longer than the last time for the machine to boot up. Was it becuase we were going to another dimension instead of another part of the planet?
From his position at the console, Dr. Richards frowned. And then started hastily fiddling with buttons and dials. That, that was a bad sign.
"Children, get off the telepad. Now!" That was a worse one. I grabbed Ashley's arm and made to jump off of the pad but then there was a flash of light.
The light cleared, I fell forward and hit the floor, as did everyone else, and we all pushed ourselves up. We were in a clean white dome-shaped room with no apparent way in our out.
And then a holographic screen appeared in the middle of the room and images began to play.
"Testing, testing, one, two, three," said the skinny man on the left while the more fit man on the right seemingly fiddled with a camera lens. "Can you hear us, can you hear us?" Both men where wearing bald caps with long white fake hair attached and red and gold robes as well as makeup that made them look older than they were.
Ashley harrumphed. "Who the Hell are you and why are you dressed like the Dungeon Master from the 80's Dungeons and Dragons cartoon?" This prompted Vista and Ashley's pet psycho to turn to look at her. "What? It was on Netflix."
"What? You don't recognize the artistic geniuses of Uber and Leet?" Asked the bulkier one. Uber.
This prompted Vista, who'd finally finished shifting into her Hulk form, to groan. "Damn it, we thought you'd gone and gotten yourselves blown up!"
"No, we just found ourselves in a new venue... Even made a new friend," Leet said. Then he and Uber stepped aside and allowed a third man to step into view.
A carrot top, wearing a white suit with a red shirt underneath and a green bowtie, who was smiling a wide, murderous grin. This prompted Ashley to say something that I didn't catch but was probably a bunch of Irish words that someone her age probably shouldn't say.
"Darn it," she finished, "it's Arcade."
"That it is," the man on the screen finished. "And with special thanks to my new associates, I humbly welcome you to my new and improved Murderworld!