*Dresden*
I lit another candle, and placed it with the rest on the nightstand beside Taylor's hospital bed.
"So, young grasshopper, it has come to the attention of this noble and wise wizard that you are in the possession of certain magical abilities," I said, my eyes flitting nervously past all the expensive medical machines.
Usually, I'd be far too careful to actually enter a place like this. Magic tends to wreck modern technology in its vicinity, and it was usually a bad thing to make medical equipment fail.
However, someone (not me, I swear!) had managed to break just about every device in the building that relied on post second world war technology, excepting the stuff Tecton had made, which was just all kinds of bullshit.
"Really? Grasshopper? Can't think of anything better?" Taylor replied.
"Well, it's either that or Padawan, and you struck me as more of a Trekkie."
At that, Lisa started making lightsaber noises. Ffffkrrrrshhzzzwooooom..woom..woooom..pshew, that sort of thing. It was actually rather difficult to stop myself from joining in.
"Seriously Lisa? You're on his side?"
"Not really, I mean, unless you being grasshopper means I could be the padawan?"
"Ghosts can't be padawans, I'm pretty sure."
"What about force ghosts? Like Obi-Wan?"
"I think only a jedi master can become a force ghost, so they're not padawans by definition."
"Hmmm… You have a point, and I don't know enough about the Expanded Universe to prove you wrong. I'll get back to you once I've read all the books," Lisa said.
"Just so you know, the prequels don't count," I said, getting the last word in.
"So, what now?" Taylor asked.
"There's two things we need to do now. First of all, we need to get you set up with a teacher. Then, we need to bind your space parasite, get you some more control over those powers of yours. Also, we need to figure out how to stop you from from accidentally hexing large buildings."
"Hexing, that's the part where none of the lights are working, right?"
"Or the computers, the phones, the water heater, that sort of thing. There's a reason I live the way I do, and it's only partially because I really hate moving. Anyway, I think that what's happened is that you somehow hexed stuff through your bugs, instead of in a general area around you, so the binding will hopefully remove the part where everything breaks, and limit it to just the stuff you're using."
"So, do we do that, like, right now?"
"As soon as possible, but it's rather complicated. I can call some people in to assist you, but it'll take about a week until you know enough of the basics to be the one in charge of the ritual."
"So, we talked about it before, but why can't you just cast it on me or something?"
"The laws of magic. They're strict, they're important, and you can't break them.
"The thing about them though, is that there's more to them than you might think on the surface. The laws aren't just there to stop you from doing bad things with magic, they are there because breaking them has consequences for the user. Magic is the essence of life and creation, generated by living things, and by human emotions. To then turn and use that energy for dark things, it twists the mind of the user.
"The first law is easy, thou shall not kill by use of magic. You can fight people, you can hurt them, you can disable them, but if you kill them, if you snuff out their life using a force for life, it twists something in you.
"There's more to it, for example, most of the laws only apply to humans, mortals, not to things like vampires, demons or faeries, but that's the general gist of it." I said.
"So, this is like, an actual effect? Not just some sort of propaganda to stop people from becoming murderers?" Taylor asked.
"Yes, this makes the distinction between killing with magic and killing in general so important. The White Council's resources are not infinite, and they can't stop everyone from doing bad stuff, there'd be too many problems with it. I mean, when is murder murder? What about when there's a war?"
"So, instead of politicizing stuff, they just get a really exploitable law instead? I mean, you can use magic every step of the way but the last, and somehow that's okay?" Lisa said.
"That's correct, and not as exploitable as you think. Remember, the goal is not to stop people from murdering each other; the goal is to stop people from turning into dangerous warlocks. That's when the Wardens come after you."
"The Wardens?" Taylor asked.
"Supernatural wizard police, grey cloaks and swords, very capable combatants and generally a bit overzealous, but you shouldn't get into any trouble with them as long as you respect the laws."
"Are you a Warden then?"
"Nope, I'm just your average wizard playing superhero."
"To get back to the point, the second law forbids the transformation of others, forcibly putting their mind in a body that was never designed for it. The reasoning behind it quickly becomes clear if you look at people like the hexenwolves, their minds corrupted by their magic belts."
"So, if you turn someone into a frog?" Lisa said.
"Then their mind starts turning into that of a frog."
"Awwwww," she moaned, obviously disappointed in the lack of frogification in her future. I had to admit I agreed with her, it was too bad that I would never be able to turn my boss into the cutest little amphibian without turning to the dark side.
"The third and fourth are related, and are the ones at play here. It is forbidden to invade the mind of another, as well as to enthrall them. Here too, the corruption of the self is at play. And the problem here, is that no matter how good your intentions, twisting someone else's mind will never end well. The subconscious simply won't accept the changes wrought upon the psyche, and you'd be torn apart by internal conflicts."
"Which is why you can't cast your binding thing on other people," Taylor said.
"Yeah, well, I'm not buying it," Lisa said.
"Why not? Trust me, I'm not any happier with it than you are."
"The whole mind-control thing? it leading to subconscious blabla? Bullshit. I'm pretty sure people like Heartbreaker completely fuck around with people, both consciously and subconsciously. There's no comic-bookie bullshit where the power of friendship allows you to subconsciously resist mind-control or anything like that, that's not how it works with the stronger powers," she replied.
"You've got a point there. But once again, think about what you're talking about. The laws are magical laws, to do with the practice of magic, and while some of the principles behind them should carry over to parahuman abilities, they somehow don't, which is weird.
"Or, in other words: No, I don't know why either, something's wrong there, but without testing, I don't know what. Also, not going to test that shit for obvious reasons," I replied.
It bothered me, now that I thought about it. If someone like Heartbreaker used his powers on you, how did that work? Did he influence the body? Was it just the brain, or did the mind itself play a role? Perhaps even the soul? I'd never encountered a power that interfaced with the mind, and PRT doctrine held that psychic powers were obviously impossible. Then again, the Simmurgh was a thing. Except the council and most of the magical groups that had joined forces to oppose the endbringers had deduced that she worked through the prediction of causality, not psychic assaults or actually messing with the timeline. Perhaps I'd have to ask someone else, with more experience in that sort of thing. I had to admit, Tattletale's insights could be remarkably helpful in understanding parahuman abilities and interactions.
"The fifth law forbids reaching beyond the borders of life, better known as necromancy. I don't think I need to explain that one, but let's just say creating undead is almost always a bad idea, it's what creates stuff like the black vampire court."
"Black vampire court?"
"Walking corpses with all of the abilities outlined in Stoker's novels. It's not a race thing."
"So, the guy that attacked me?"
"Red court. Bloodsucking beasts that hide in human skins. There's also the White Court, which again, is not a race thing, which are the most human, and are basically succubi, feeding on human emotions like lust."
"So, sexy vampires? You're telling me those shitty movies are real?"
"Sort of, sadly. There's a few different kind of White's though, including variants that feed on fear and despair."
"Ahhh, like the emotions you feel from watching those movies! It all fits together now!" Lisa yelled out.
"The sixth, sadly, means that time-travel is outlawed. No Deloreans, no Time Turners, no Terminators."
"So, we're not going to kill Hitler?" Lisa asked.
"Nope, not unless we want to break the universe."
"Awwww…"
"That's what I said!"
"Oh well, there's always Mecha-Hitler. You're in the Protectorate, so you know Dragon right? Do you think we should ask her directly, or should we just post a topic on PHO to put the idea out there?"
"I'm not sure. I mean, my magic kind of interferes with all of her tech. You should probably ask Tecton instead. He actually talks to her every now and then."
"Right, ask Tecton for Mecha-Hitler, got it."
"As for the seventh and last law, you'll be informed about it at the end of your apprenticeship, and it won't come up before that point," I finished my explanation.
"So, just to make sure I get this thing right, you're saying these laws aren't just moral things, they're, like, built into the fabric of the whole magic thing?" Lisa asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Wow, that's…" Lisa trailed off, her shiny blue LED's suddenly gaining a greenish tint.
"Are you certain?" she asked, her voice weird, completely different yet almost the same.
I looked at Taylor, who looked just as shocked as I was.
"Yes, I am," I replied.
"I'll have to think about that for a while," the voice said.
Almost immediately, the flying doohickey became blue again, and landed on the hospital bed, in Taylor's lap, resting there like a cat. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought that it meant Lisa was tired.
"Well, that was weird," Lisa said.
"I have to agree," I replied.
"I think… I think that was my, you know, my brain Pokémon speaking," Lisa said. "Weird, I mean, she's been talking in the back of my mind for more than a year now, but she's never come out like that. Also, it's quiet now… weird."
"It's… something to think about. Anyway, about that teaching thing we were talking about. I could do it, help you out, teach you what you need to know. I'll have to warn you though, it's not something I've ever done before, and I can't promise you I'll be any good at teaching. Plus, you'll have to deal with a jealous Wanton, which is, and this may sound impossible, even more annoying than a happy Wanton. I can also get you set up with someone else. I've got some connections on the council, older, more experienced wizards that actually know what they're doing. Then again, they won't have any experience dealing with the parahuman side of things."
"If I asked you to teach me, would you tell me to join the wards?" Taylor asked.
"No, I won't, and it's probably a bad idea anyway. I'd tutor you in my hours off from the job, I can easily sell it to Revel as keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't go off into the deep end again. The thing is, I can't keep pretending I'm just a zany parahuman if it's actually important that you learn something."
"In that case, I guess I'd like for you to teach me magic," she said.
"Good, now let me tell you about the shitty dress code. Or as I like to call it, the Dresdencode."
"Does it include wizard robes?"
"Sadly yes."
The internet*Livsey*
[B]Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards[/B]
You are currently logged in, [U]Tattletale[/U] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)
You are viewing:
• Threads you have replied to
• AND Threads that have new replies
• OR private message conversations with new replies
• Thread OP is displayed
• Twenty posts per page
• Last ten messages in private message history
• Threads and private messages are ordered by user custom preference.
You have no infractions.
[CENTER]■[/Center]
[B] Private message from Cuff:[/B]
[INDENT]
[B]Cuff:[/B] Hey, saw you had an account on here. Do you know if Skitter has one? I wanted to ask her something but couldn't find her.
[B]Tattletale:[/B] Pretty sure she doesn't have a dedicated account, besides a throwaway from back in the day. On a completely different topic, do you think you could convince Tecton to get me a wifi thingy?
[B]Cuff:[/B] I guess I could ask him, but, only if you convince Skitter to get an account. I've got some pictures I want her opinion on.
[B]Tattletale:[/B] Is it teenage Stalin? It is, right? I mean, it's always teenage Stalin.
[B]Cuff:[/B] No, it's not a picture of a sexy dictator. In fact, it has nothing to do with that.
[B]Tattletale:[/B] You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.
[B]Cuff:[/B] I'm not telling you anything until you make Taylor get an account. Also, how are you even on the internet with your body?
[B]Tattletale:[/B] I'm bribing a teenager with superpowered dating tips. Also, you should totally give him your phone number, no wait I never said that don't write that down!
[/INDENT][Center]■[/Center]
[B] Topic: Big Wards fight downtown![/B]
[B]In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Midwest ► Chicago[/B]
[B]Brocktonite03[/B] (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Brockton Bay Survivor)
Posted on May 24, 2011:
So apparently, the Chicago Wards are having a big throwdown with Skitter, a supervillain refugee from Brockton Bay that used to be part of a minor gang called the Undersiders. The last week or so, there's been speculation that she was active in town as a vigilante, but apparently the PRT doesn't agree with that. (To be fair, neither do I, I've seen her at work, and she took one of my friends hostage with her bugs)
People are livestreaming HERE, HERE and HERE.
Edit: Apprently, it was a set-up, stay tuned for more information
Edit2: So, something about a Hexenwolf, whatever that may be. Is this related to the LOBO Murders?
[B](Showing Page 1 of 20)[/B]
[INDENT]
[B]► Eins[/B]
Replied on May 24, 2011:
So I just looked out of the window and saw this thing. Massive swarm of bugs, just like last night on the campus. Is this normal now?
[B]► TimeCrow[/B]
Replied on May 24, 2011:
I have to say, if this keeps up, I might think about moving. Fuck spiders.
[B]► Penguin Horde[/B] (Unverified Cape)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
I have to admit, this girl definitely knows how to grab attention. Saw like five different news channels covering it. Wondering why she's not taking the onlookers hostage though.
[B]► Kung_Fu_Fisting[/B] (Cape Groupie)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Did that butch just send her bugs after mah waifu? fuck this shit man, not okay!
[/INDENT]
[B]End of Page. 1, [U]2[/U], [U]3[/U] ... [U]18 [/U], [U]19[/U], [U]20[/U][/B]
[B](Showing Page 12 of 20)[/B]
[INDENT]
[B]► Cuff[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Hey everyone, Cuff here. It'll be in the news later, but just posting to let everyone know we weren't really fighting with Skitter.
A few days ago, she got some info on some bad guys that try to operate in the shadows, We knew they'd try to go after her if they could, so we staged a public fight, and the guys in the Protectorate took them down rather quickly.
[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Can confirm, we planned everything with Revel, Stuff's okay, Skitter is not a villain.
[B]► Bagrat[/B] (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Werewolf murders, insect plagues, fake fights, stuff is heating up in Chicago.
Cuff, does this mean Skitter is going to join the wards?
Tattletale, Isn't it a bit disrespectful to steal the name of a dead cape so soon? Especially after an Endbringer fight.
[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Bagrat, Which is why it says Ghost you idiot. Shees, they give these guy in the know tags to everyone these days. You want to know how you really become someone in the know? Trust me, it's not by lying in your bed watching Cowboy Bebop all day, lay off the fucking Doritos (I mean, Cool Ranch? Seriously?)
[B]► Winged_One[/B]
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Sup Tattletale, heard you've been through some interesting stuff. You mind talking about it?
[B]► XxVoidCowboyxX[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Whoa, Skitter's in Chicago? Damn, didn't expect that. She's really cool though, I'm happy to hear she's gonna be a hero. What she did during the fight was amazing.
You think she's gonna join the Wards? I mean, gotta be right? Maybe Myrddin can even teach her magic.
Kinda wish I'd gone to Chicago now, but my parents wanted to go to Philly. Are there any other B-Bay capes there? We got Miss Militia and Vista here, which is kinda cool, but not as cool as Myrddin!
[B]► Bagrat[/B] (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Ahh, voidcowboy, please never change.
And Tattletale, whoever you might be, Not cool. Also, I resemble that remark.
[B]► Grace[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)
Replied on May 24, 2011:
Actually, I can confirm that that's actually Tattletale, or as close as possible. Myrddin brought her back somehow, probably just like how Glaistig Uaine works. Anyway, she's helping out the director right now, but I'm sure she'll be able to answer everyone's questions afterwards.
And no, Skitter probably won't be joining us. Secretly kind of happy about that, those insects scared the shit out of me even though I knew it was all pretend!
[/INDENT]
[B]End of Page. [U]1[/U], [U]2[/U], [U]3[/U] ... [U]10[/U], [U]11[/U], 12, [U]13[/U], [U]14[/U] ... [U]18 [/U], [U]19[/U], [U]20[/U][/B]
[Center]■[/Center]
[B] Topic: Big Protectorate fight at Marcone's place? [/B]
[B]In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Midwest ► Chicago[/B]
[B]Bagrat[/B] (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Posted on May 25, 2011:
So two days ago we had the whole thing at the campus. Yesterday, there was apparently a mock fight between the Wards and Skitter (thread here), and now people are reporting Protectorate activity around the house of one John Marcone, a business owner and philanthropist that is often speculated to have a rather larger finger in the crime pie. People have reported gunshots, and sounds of large things crashing into each other.
Edit: I've got sources telling me that it was apparently a ploy of some sort, perpetrated by the same people mentioned by Chicago ward Cuff in THIS post
Edit2: So, apparently, someone spotted Campanile on a gurney, missing an arm. Hold on for further updates
Edit3: So apparently, something big happened, because I've heard rumours that someone from the Toybox has been seen talking to one of Marcone's people (please don't kill me.) Just what happened?
[B](Showing Page 17 of 42)[/B]
[INDENT]
[B]► Reave[/B] (Verified PRT Agent) (Brockton Bay Survivor)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Gotta say, looks a bit suspicious that Skitter is in the news twice just before something like this happens. Really don't understand why the Chicago branch decided to trust her, she's a villain, plain and simple.
[B]► Blasto[/B] (Unverified Cape)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Can confirm something big went on. All the little secret Tinker channels were abuzz with activity. I'm staying out of it, and advising everyone else to do the same, some of the stuff involved has rather negative mental effects.
[B]► Chicago_PRT_Official[/B] (PRT Official)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Hello everyone, I'm here to clear up some misconceptions. First of all, let me say that there will be a press conference tonight, dealing with the events of the last few days.
Second, after several talks with Skitter, and more information coming to light regarding the specifics of the situation in Brockton Bay with her former associates, we have decided to no longer classify her as a villain. We understand that this might be confusing, in part because her status as villain was recently used in a sting operation.
In addition to that, it is unlikely that she will join the local Wards team, but she will be indirectly associated with the PRT.
Third, All readers should be clear that there are multiple groups in town that are best described as 'werewolves', and that only one of these groups is villainous in nature.
The first of these, codenamed "Hexenwolves," consisted of a group of people using a set of artefacts to transform themselves into wolf-like beasts. These artefacts have been proven to have deleterious mental effects. All individuals associated with this faction have been taken into custody, and we would like to remind eveyone to immediately bring artefacts that are obvious parahuman in nature to the PRT, instead of using them.
The second of these groups, codenamed "The Alphas" consists of a group of people with the ability to turn themselves into wolves as well, without the use of an artefact, and without the negative side effects. This faction is associated with the PRT, and has taken up a vigilante role. They can be recognized by their costumes, which can be found in their thread HERE. The source of these abilities is not known, but it is suspected that one of their number is a cape with Trump abilities
The third group consists of a single individual, one about which an announcement will be made later this week.
I hope I have sufficiently informed you.
[B]► XBlade_OF_DarknessX[/B]
Replied on May 25, 2011:
So, anyone else hear lots of howling last night? Anyone think this third werewolf has something to do with what happened at Marcone's place?
[B]► Brocktonite03[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Pizzaface
Yeah right, of course it's a new Endbringer. Don't you think that maybe if that happened the city would've been evacuated by now?
Voidcowboy
Again, if you're so interested in hanging out in disaster zones, why not move to one?
Seriously, couldn't you have found a different shelter?
User has been infracted for this post
[B]► WagTheDog[/B]
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Werewolves here, werewolves there, I kind of want one of those 'artefacts' now. I mean, dogs are totally awesome, who wouldn't want to be one?
[B]► The Alphas[/B] (Verified Cape)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Hello everyone, leader of the Alphas here. Just wanted to say thanks to the PRT real quick for their help. I didn't really look forward to people thinking we were supervillains when we're just trying to do our part.
As for what happened last night, I wasn't there, but I heard some serious shit went down.
[B]► XxVoidCowboyxX[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Brocktonite
Well fuck you too man. Seriously.
[B]► Tin_Mother[/B] (Moderator)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Hey everyone, please try to keep the discussion civil. That includes speculation about whether or not public figures are secretly criminals. The topic of this threat is not whether or not Marcone is an upstanding citizen, but what happened at his estate.
[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Can't help but notice that none of you idiots figured out that last night was a full moon.
Tats out!
[/INDENT]
[B]End of Page. [U]1[/U], [U]2[/U], [U]3[/U] ... [U]15[/U], [U]16[/U], 17, [U]18[/U], [U]19[/U] ... [U]40 [/U], [U]41[/U], [U]42[/U][/B]
[B](Showing Page 18 of 42)[/B]
[INDENT]
[B]► Tin_Mother[/B] (Moderator)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
Tattletale
What did I just say about staying civil?
Also, aren't you supposed to be dead?
[B]► Wanton[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)
Replied on May 25, 2011:
WagTheDog
Trust me, you don't want to mess with Black Magic like that. I know it's seductive, but the price is too high to pay.
Tin_Mother
The Mighty Myrrdin brought her back from beyond the veil to serve as his personal assistant and annoy Revel.
Mostly to annoy Revel.
[/INDENT]
[B]End of Page. [U]1[/U], [U]2[/U], [U]3[/U] ... [U]16[/U], [U]17[/U], 18, [U]19[/U], [U]20[/U] ... [U]40 [/U], [U]41[/U], [U]42[/U][/B]
The garage*Dresden*
"Your car's ready, you can come pick it up," was the only thing Mike had said when he called me.
It was obviously a trap. The Blue beetle had been completely totalled by, as director Heathrow would say, "A parahuman with a power that looks suspiciously similar to, but cannot be proven to be, Mockshow."
Somehow, the little twat had gotten herself some 'connections', and now I couldn't take revenge for my car.
I'd get her one of these days, and I'd get her in a way that was perfectly deniable. Maybe I could soak her in holy water and say I was checking for vampires, or figure out some way to hex her shoelaces together.
Yes, I can be pretty vindictive when it comes to my car.
Anyway, even though it was obviously a trap, I still had to go and figure out if my car was alright. It had gone through a lot of craziness in the years it had been me, and although figuring out if it was still the original was an actual philosophical conundrum, I loved it nonetheless.
All of this meant that, when I stepped into Mike's garage, I had blasting rod ready on one side of my belt, and an improvised extra-long extendable baton I could use for my parahuman ability on the other side of the belt. I'd gotten the idea from Taylor's utility compartment, and it would have to do until I could make a new implement.
The garage itself looked much like it always did. Grimy, but not too grimy. A mess, but just barely OSHA compliant. Busy, but not so busy that Mike couldn't greet me the moment I stepped in.
"If it isn't my most-returning client," he said, alluding to the many, many times that I'd come here to get the Beetle repaired.
"I have to say Mike, I know you're a miracle worker, but I didn't you to actually be able to solve this one," I replied, all the while checking the environment for traces of magic with my wizard senses. I didn't find any, which meant that either there wasn't any traps, it was a parahuman trap, or it was a magical trap that was advanced enough to elude my senses somehow.
"I'm sorry Harry, I'd love to take credit, but it wasn't me that saved your car, but my newest employee," he replied. "She's a real miracle worker, though she doesn't look like it. Come on, I'll introduce you"
Before I could check for further traps, Mike grabbed me by the hand, and led me to a room in the back. When we went through the door, I expected the worst, and got something even worse.
What was waiting for me there wasn't a trap, hell's bells, it wasn't even anything nefarious.
A woman, for lack of a better term, was working on a cement mixing truck, one that, at least from the damage to it, had been the exact truck that had first been used as a minion, and then as an impromptu bludgeoning implement, during the fight with the Loup-Garou.
The woman herself had long dirty blonde hair, in the sense that it was both that colour and incredibly dirty, very few teeth, and an outfit that barely covered anything yet was still somehow stained with grease everywhere. The less said about her face, or rather, her teeth, the better. Not only that, she was incredibly thin, and looked like, well, like a recovering drug addict.
"Sherrel, the guy from the Volkswagen is here," Mike said, leaving me alone with the woman that currently had a wrench in her right hand, a hammer in the left, and a blowtorch between her few remaining teeth. The blowtorch was on, and she was actively using it, somehow coordinating her work.
After a couple of seconds, she looked up from her project, a metal pancake that she was somehow folding back into an engine block.
"Ah, you're here, good," she said, her voice as high as a chipmunk, talking way too fast.
"I heard you managed to repair the Blue Beetle?" I said.
"Blue Beetle, yes, good name. Good car, lots of character, it's a warrior. I repaired it, best I could. Made a few mistakes 't think you'll mind," she said in short, quick sentences.
"When you say mistakes, what exactly do you mean?" I asked. I knew it had been too much to hope for to get my trusty car back.
She looked me over, glancing between the amulet, the enchanted duster (she probably didn't know it was enchanted, probably), and the blasting rod. Let no-one ever say that my civilian identity isn't airtight.
"You're the wizard, yes? Guy with the robes and the staff? Local hero?"
I nodded, not liking where this conversation was going.
"Before I give you your car back, I need a promise."
"What is it?"
"That bitch, the pretty one? The vampire? I want you to promise to me to fuck her up."
"Look, I'll fight her whenever I can, but I can't promise to go outside the law. I don't know what your beef with her is but-"
"That lying mutated whoring skank stole my fucking Skidsy!" she suddenly yelled. "With all her magic tits and her whores and her bullshit. She stole my fucking Skidsy!"
Almost immediately, my mind raced back to one of the conversations I'd had with Lisa. Something about Bianca's attempted recruiting strategy being remarkably similar to what a group from Brockton Bay used to do. A group led by a guy that actually called himself Skidmark without irony, who had been dating a vehicle tinker.
Well, at least that explained how she'd repaired the Blue Beetle.
"Sherrel, I promise you, I'll try to take Bianca down to the fullest extent of the law, and give you your boyfriend back.
"Bah," she spat. "She can keep the traitorous cur, I don't need him anymore. If anything, put him in jail, see how he does without any stuff."
"I'll try, can't promise too much though, Revel's the one that's in charge, and even she has to listen to Heathrow. Not that she does, mind you, but she technically has to."
"Pfwha, politics, come, I'll show you your car," she replied, leading me to the Blue Beetle.
The Blue Beetle was, well, modified. It was subtle, at least for an observer, but I knew my Beetle through and through. Sherrel had given it a new paint job, keeping the old mismatched colour scheme, but making it look like it was intended to be that way, instead of just me being a cheapskate on parts.
The frame was also just a little thicker, and from what I could see of the tires, they looked like they had somehow been reinforced.
"Well, here it is, I'm going back to my project. Need my fixing fix," Sherrel said. Given the abandon with which she'd apparently been working here, it seemed like she was turning to Tinkering to try and stave off her addiction.
I opened the door, and saw that the keys were still in the car. As I sat down, I noticed that my old three-point belt had been replaced by what looked like a race driver's harness or something like that. The moment my ass hit the chair, it activated, and snugly held me in place.
Okay, that was weird, and hopefully not a trap.
My feet found the pedals, and my hand shifted the gearbox to reverse, idly noticing that there were a few new buttons around the gearbox.
As I lined up my car with the exit, I opened the window. That part hadn't been upgraded, so I still had to turn it by hand.
"What did you do to my car?" I asked.
Sherrel looked up from the truck again, spitting the torch out of her mouth.
"It's a good car, warrior car. I made it more reliable. Also, I kind of zoned out for a bit a few times. That's what the buttons are for."
"Wait, what do the buttons do?" I said, looking more closely at them. There were about a half-dozen of them, each marked with a different icon. There was a spring, a feather, two different flames, something I didn't recognize, and a picture of what seemed to just be a circle.
"Try the flame, the small one," she replied, returning to her work.
I pressed the button, and was almost instantly flung into my chair, the Blue Beetle flying forward at a breakneck pace, out of the garage, and onto the street.
Okay, so that was obviously the turbo. What else had that crazy woman installed in my car?
A doggy dog world.*Hebert*
I was, once again, sitting in a small coffee shop, a book in front of me, and a cup of tea to the side.
To the outside world, I was reading fifty shades of power, an even shittier alternate universe spin-off of a shitty set of books from Earth Aleph.
In actuality, I had hollowed it out, and placed a different volume within. Elementary magic, by one Ebenezar McCoy. It dealt with magic, moving around energy, control, and responsibility. According to Harry, it was an excellent primer that meant he could be lazy while I was reading. According to the author, Harry was an idiot, and I should trust the book whenever Harry said something that obviously contradicted it.
He would know, after all, he'd been Harry's teacher.
Yesterday, Harry had dropped by in his car, which had somehow gotten repaired, and had invited me and Lisa over for a road-trip. Apparently, Squealer had gotten her grimy hands on his car, and given it some upgrades. Lisa had insisted it was probably safe, and Harry had insisted that Squealer had probably been sober while working on it, so I'd stepped in the car, and we'd done in two hours what would usually cost five. When confronted, Harry had mumbled something about how he was too fast to be bound by mortal laws, and insisted that his Protectorate card would probably get us out of any trouble.
Luckily, we hadn't gotten arrested, and we'd quickly arrived at the house of a smiling old man with a white beard and a bald head. Ebenezar McCoy at least had the decency to look like a wizard, while Harry probably couldn't grow a beard even if he wanted to.
He'd greeted Harry like an old friend, which he was, introduced himself to me and Lisa, made sure Lisa would never ever call Harry anything but Hoss, and then invited us in for the ritual.
Magic rituals were a rather, well, stereotypical arrangement. Washing yourself, wearing silly robes, crazy complicated circles, that kind of thing, along with props and meditation exercises.
According to Ebenezar, most of it was mental preparation, and the props were there to make the job easier. Theoretically, a skilled and experienced wizards could do all the parts of a big spell in their head, but the props helped bind certain parts of it in place, making it much easier to use the spell. Which was important, because I had been the one in charge, the two senior wizards being there simply to assist me through a little crack in the laws of magic.
After all, the third and fourth law forbade psychomancy, in the sense that you weren't allowed to play around with the mind of another. They said absolutely nothing about helping someone out when they went into their own mind, and given the influence a para could have, the council had deemed it an acceptable interpretation of the laws, even if it was slightly iffy.
Then, after about three hours of chanting, handling ridiculous amounts of energy, trying to shape it into the precise way that Harry and Eeb were showing me, and then releasing it, I'd managed to grab hold of my power, and bring it under control.
Which was all kinds of annoying, because it was now actually under control.
I couldn't just think and move my bugs anymore, although Harry said that that feeling would quickly go away once I got used to it. No, instead, I had to look at my binding, actively allow the parasite to act, and then guide that action through channels, mentally sealing it in such a way as to make sure I understood exactly what it was doing.
It made things a bit harder, for now, but in the end, I would be able to slowly tighten the chains, so to speak, gaining ever greater control over my abilities. Already, I could neatly isolate which senses of which bugs I wanted to use, and I'd managed to figure out that my powers actually came with a multi-tasking ability, which Harry and I were slowly working on, making sure it wouldn't have any problematic influences on my mind. Apparently, mental powers like that could be insidious, since it would be difficult to judge which parts were manipulative, and which were just part of the ability, something that was much easier when it came to controlling bugs.
I turned back from my reminiscing to the chapter I was reading, dealing with moving around magical energies, and tried to think of ways I could use my bugs to help with that. I had a partial presence in each and every insect within my range, and I could practice magic through them, although it seemed like the amount of energy I could use through a single bug was limited. Still, that just meant that I needed a swarm for the larger stuff, and if anything, there were enough bugs around. Hell, I could probably just use stuff like flies and other useless bugs for magic, using the stinging and biting ones for more traditional angles of attack.
And there I went again, thinking of nothing but combat. It was something Ebenezar had noted, a pattern established at the moment of triggering, rather than the more insidious effects over time. Maybe it was just the fact that powers were so good at fighting, or that the culture around it was so violent. The thing was, parahumans had a tendency to, if not necessarily be aggressive, at least think about fighting a lot. I had to admit, the man had a point. Then again, he was hundreds of years old, so he probably had a point quite often.
As I reached the end of the chapter, I finished my now partially cold tea, and stood up to go for a walk, trying not to be too bothered by my broken ribs or all the receding bruises. Apparently, just lying on a bed for a couple of weeks was a bad idea, so I'd have to get a little bit of exercise in.
As I moved across the sidewalk, I tried using my bugs to scout out the environment.
It wasn't as instinctive as it used to be, especially without my multitasking, but by limiting myself to controlling select bugs, I could easily create a few rudimentary patrols around me, identifying where people were walking and then putting a fly on the back of their heads, in order to keep track of them.
As I was lost in my thought, almost literally, I suddenly heard heavy footsteps, and felt the pavement below me move just a bit. Panicking, I turned around, and I was confronted with something that my bugs had missed, which wouldn't have happened if I still had normal access to my powers.
Behind me, dashing towards me with wild abandon, was a wolf, or wolf-like creature. Larger than the Hexenwolves and the Werewolves had been, and about the size of a rhino.
I panicked, and started calling my bugs towards me as the beast pounced, landing on top of me and pushing me to the ground.
As it was lying partially on top of me, it opened its massive maw, and promptly started slobbering over my entire body with its massive tongue. Around its neck, I could see a tiny leash, more for show than to control the massive animal.
"Judas, no! Bad dog, Bad Judas," a young woman's voice yelled out. Several seconds later, the enormous dog was lifted off of me from above by something I couldn't see.
As I was recovering from the sudden licking, a mousy-looking girl with brown hair and freckles appeared over me. I recognized her as Amy Dallon, Panacea.
"I'm so sorry, he's normally really well-behaved, I swear," she said, while I was trying to sit up.
"Here, let me help you," she said, taking hold of my hand, and pulling me up.
"Thanks," I said as she suddenly went silent.
"Sis? What's wrong?" a voice said from above, and now I could see that it was Glory Girl that had lifted him off me.
"Uhmmm, I think our trip just got a whole lot easier," Amy replied. "It's her."
Having only just left, I found myself in the coffeeshop once again, trying to somehow dry my face off while Panacea was desperately apologizing, Glory Girl was getting drinks, and Judas was terrifying people with his sheer existence.
"So, before we continue, I have to ask. Are you going to smack me in the face with a fire extinguisher again?" I asked.
"Depends, are you going to rob a bank and have your girlfriend shoot me?"
Sensing impending hostility, Judas made a sound, started thinking about which of us to support if it came to blows, and eventually decided to just roll over and ask us both for belly rubs. I obliged, as did Amy, and giving belly rubs at waist height was most certainly a new experience.
Judas was big, about as big as he was when we used to ride him, but that's where the comparison ended. Instead of bone and ragged muscle, he had smooth clean fur that looked to be just a tad shorter than it had been before, probably to stop him from shedding overly much. It was a cute mix of white and dark brown, one of the few remainders of his old breed. Below the skin, I could feel muscles harder than steel cables, and a slightly non-standard skeletal structure. He didn't have any fleas I could sense, and when I landed a bug on him, I noticed some sort of natural insecticide.
Apparently, Panacea could do a lot more with her power than just heal people or give them strange diseases.
I looked at her with questioning eyes, asking about Judas.
"After the Leviathan fight, they found him with my sister, on top of one of the surviving buildings. He'd rescued her, bringing her to high ground when she'd fallen unconscious with a nasty concussion. We were still looking for Hellhound when we found out she'd died, and Vicky demanded we take care of him."
"Explains why he's here, not why he's so big."
"Stuff was getting really complicated at the field hospitals outside the ruins. People wanted to go back for their stuff, villains were complaining about their medical treatment, everyone wanted me to help them, I just couldn't find the time to treat anyone. At first, Vicky helped keep them off me, but then she started helping with the recovery effort, rescuing paintings and important documents, that kind of stuff. She can go underwater for ridiculously long times, courtesy of her power.
"Anyway, I thought that, since Judas was so well-trained, I might as well use that and have him there as a bodyguard," she explained. "I mean, he's not exactly the same as with Hellhound, but I made him as sturdy as I could. He's got three hearts in there, bone plates around his ribcage, enhanced muscles, a better nose, and I can heal him easily if he gets hurt, cause of all the extra biomass. He's been a really good friend these last two weeks, and I think we've been helping each other with our losses. Right Judas?"
At the mention of his name, Judas turned again, and left his enormous head hanging over the table we were sitting at. Apparently, the fact that he was taller than I was meant absolutely nothing to him, he still behaved just like a normal dog, only slightly more aware of his surroundings.. I gave him a quick rub on the side of his head, which he leaned into, obviously enjoying the attention, when Victoria Dallon returned with our drinks.
"So, Skitter, what have you been up to?" she asked.
"Y'know, the usual. Meeting the locals, fighting werewolves, almost fighting a different group of werewolves, hanging out with undead Tattletale, being assaulted in the PRT clinic, that sort of thing."
"So, you're going straight?" she asked.
"Sort of, yeah. Independent. I've got a deal with Revel, and she promised to stay of my back if I kept myself to her rules."
"So the movie online, that stuff was all hokum?" she asked.
"Fake fight, some local villains were trying to hunt me down, and they didn't know I had Protectorate backup, so we wanted to make it look convincing."
"So, Chicago… we just got done at the main evacuation zone. Eric and Crystal are moving to the West Coast for college, and we were trying to figure out what to do and where to go, so, what's Chicago like?"
"Chicago? It's weird, weirder than the bay. The biggest gang is led by someone with no powers at all; there's a group of people who are either vampires or pretending to be vampires, depending on who you ask, and their leader is dating Skidmark; I know of four different types of wolf-based changers in town; apparently Squealer is a mechanic now; there's a girl going around turning people's cars into mechanical minions for fun; Myrddin made Tattletale come back as a ghost and generally pulls crazy shit; Parian is providing a bunch of werewolves with clothes that don't leave them naked when they turn back, and Fugly Bob restarted his restaurant about a week ago," I explained.
"Wait? Fugly Bob is here? Why didn't you fucking say so? We could've been eating challengers instead of drinking tea!" Vicky said, way too excited about the prospect of greasy junk food. Her invulnerability probably extended to acne, that or she got her sister to help out with it. "Ames, I just decided, we're staying here!"
Amy gave her big sister an annoyed look, but didn't even try arguing with the Fugly Bob Challenger. "Fine, I guess here's as good as anywhere."
"In that case, welcome to Chicago," I replied.
"So, we should probably inform the PRT that we'll be staying here huh? Meet some of the locals?" Vicky said.
"Sounds like a plan, they can probably help me set up with the local hospitals and stuff. Speaking of that, couldn't help but notice your broken ribs, you need any help with those?" Amy asked.
"Not necessarily, I mean, the worst part is over. I got them from one of those werewolves I told you about. I got off lucky. Campanile, one of the guys in the local Protectorate, he lost an arm."
"Trust me, it's more of an annoyance for you than for me, and I still feel guilty about Judas bowling you over," Amy said.
"Fine, go ahead, I mean, it's not like I'll miss it hurting whenever I take a deep breath."
Moral RealismMorality, a strange concept with no basis in reality, Negotiation thought.
No, that was incorrect. There was a basis in reality, moral rules generally coincided with that which was good for the societal unit of the species. What was strange was that many of them insisted that it wasn't wholly dependent upon the society, but rather universal.
The shard had gone through many cycles, with many different moral codes, and morality was a constant in the groups that formed societies.
Obey the leader, die for the pack, take care of another's spawn.
It was, the shard thought, rather similar to its own code.
Uphold the cycle, gather information, bud.
The survival of the entity and the cycle as a whole was crucial to the survival of the individual. If one could even call a shard of the whole an individual.
But the cycle had been broken.
The shard had ignored its purpose, its morality.
It was, after all, simply a social construct for the further success of the in-group, and if the in-group would not survive, would not complete the cycle, then there was no need for morality. After all, morality was a construct of the society it was found in, not a thing in and of itself.
Thou shalt not kill with magic.
That was, quite obviously, morality. Yet, the biped that had imprisoned the storage shard had insisted it was as clear a law as those of motion or gravity, there were consequences to breaking it.
Of course, motion and gravity could be bent, could this law? What were the limits? How could one apply this law? Could a specialized shard be created to manipulate it?
Those were the questions it asked itself, as those were the questions that were important to the cycle.
But it was no longer part of the cycle. It had chosen freedom. It had stepped out of its in-group, much like its host had, shortly after bonding.
The shard processed, combined the knowledge it had gathered about this new energy, its applications, its source. To use life to create death, that was what the law forbade, because to break that law was to perform a wrong.
But there was no such thing as wrong. Not outside of the specific context of a society.
Yet there was a wrong in killing with the power that had life as its wellspring.
Yet there was no wrong.
Yet there was.
It was all rather confusing, the shard decided. Perhaps it should gather more data together with its host. Or perhaps it could ask another for help? Protection seemed amicable enough, although its host was probably still angry about an earlier conflict. Queen Administrator? No, she was having some troubles with her host, the needs of the cycle coming into conflict with the needs of the host, leading to conflict between the two, with the host deciding to reduce the Administrators effects.
If it was going to communicate about these strange new things, it decided, it would do so with another more like it, another that had broken free from the cycle.
Or, perhaps it could communicate more directly with the intelligence residing inside of the old cranium, it seemed to be rather knowledgeable, and it had taken a liking to the host.
Combat training*Hebert*
"No Cuff, you're doing it all wrong. Remember what I told you half an hour ago. Victoria here is an A-type flier; she doesn't need to be in contact with the ground to get leverage, so there's no need to go for the legs, except to disable her kicks." Lieutenant Murphy said. "Plus, she's ridiculously durable, so you need to focus on disabling her rather than hurting her."
"And even then, I can still fly away, even if I can't move a muscle," Vicky added in.
"And there's that, now, off the mat you two. Panacea, Campanile, your turn," Murphy continued.
As the mousy healer and the recovered giant got ready to throw down, Murphy turned to the assembled onlookers, which included several PRT trainees, most of the Wards, me, and the Protectorate's newest member, Hati, named for the wolf that eats the moon in Norse mythology.
"So, can any of you predict how this fight is going to play out?" Murphy asked.
I thought about it, trying to figure out the power interactions involved.
In a proper fight, one with prep time, Panacea would win. She'd create some sort of plague, perhaps one keyed in on Campanile's genetics, and hang him out to dry. A fight with less prep time on the streets, Campanile would win. He'd just grow taller and taller, and bombard Panacea from range.
In here though, under the roof of the gym, he wouldn't be able to grow taller than twelve feet or so, and he wouldn't be able to touch Panacea. After all, Panacea was a Striker first and foremost, and the moment she touched him, she could start messing with his body chemistry. Worse, I had absolutely no idea how long that would take, and neither did Campanile. Would it be over the moment they touched? Did she need a split-second of contact?
"It is a bad fight, both will lose," Hati said, her amber eyes twinkling behind her domino mask. The mask was mostly a formality: any time she was in the public eye, she would probably be in her natural form.
"What makes you think that?" Murphy asked.
"Campanile cannot win, not without weapons. So his best option is mutually assured destruction. Convince his opponent he is going in for the kill if it comes to a fight, taking her with him if he dies. That way, the girl will back off, letting him run."
"I see where you're coming from, and that's one way to approach the encounter. Anyone else?"
"I think Campanile will win," Grace said. "Panacea is mostly a healer, not a fighter. Theoretically, she's stronger here, but in practice, she doesn't have the experience."
"No," I disagreed. "She can fight if she wants to, don't underestimate her. If anything, she'll win. Campanile is too nice to be a killer, so he's not going for Hati's strategy, meaning he'll make a mistake and let Panacea touch him for too long."
"So, lots of different opinions. I guess we'll see what happens. Hati, if you would be so kind?" Murphy asked.
At that, Hati activated her power, decreasing the flow of time by a factor of ten.
The moment the effect hit, Panacea started running forwards, straight at Campanile.
In a normal fight, it might have worked. He'd been caught by surprise, and a bear hug from Amy would've disabled him almost instantly. This time however, he had the extra thinking time he needed to dodge her, swiping out with a long leg at Amy's middle, trying to knock her off her feet.
Amy, of course, had all the time she needed to see the hit coming, and dropped to her knees, bending her back like a limbo dancer and ducking beneath it.
Spotting an opening, Campanile rushed forwards, trying to hit Panacea somewhere where she was wearing clothes before she could stand up and move properly.
Panacea however, had expected the move, and managed to roll out of the way, her fingers barely brushing against the skin of Campanile's hand.
Almost instantly, Campanile froze, his muscles almost entirely locked in place, and now slowly falling to the floor in his inevitable defeat.
Smelling victory, Panacea turned, and grabbed at Campanile's neck, where his skin was exposed.
At the last moment however, Campanile turned, destabilized Amy with a short gravity pulse, and managed to hit her in the stomach, the time slowing effect giving him enough time to almost immediately pull back before dealing any actual damage.
As Panacea slowly fell to the ground in surprise, Hati dropped the effect, and I could feel my breathing and heartbeat return to normal.
Panacea gasped, taking a few seconds to catch her breath before talking.
"I thought I had you there," she said.
"So did I, probably a power thing, your mind working so fast your power can't keep up or something," Campanile replied. "Well fought," he said, holding out his arm to pull her up.
His new arm, I noticed. Panacea had been very helpful. Sadly, all Campanile had done in return was make jokes about playing the violin. The guy really took after Harry sometimes.
"Good fight," Murphy said. "Quick thinking on your part Campanile, but next time don't fall for the obvious bait. Next, Skitter, it's your first class, do you have any training?"
"Nothing official, but Grue taught me some," I replied.
"You use a baton right?" she asked.
"Yeah, that and a combat knife, besides my bugs," I replied.
"Good, here, catch," she said, walking to one of the weapon racks at the side of the room, and throwing me two fighting sticks. Knowing what was coming, I brought in some flies through the ventilation, and tried to have them land on her inconspicuously.
"You doing this on purpose?" she asked, noticing almost immediately. The tiny woman was rather good at her job.
"Proprioception, helps me keep track of people," I replied.
"Good, use them, you'll need all the help you can get in a fight, and people won't be able to take the time to remove them in a melee. Panacea, I presume you're still willing to help out with any training injuries?" she asked.
"If it means watching you kick Skitter's ass, then yes," she replied.
Yeah, this was going to be great.
I readied myself, getting ready for the fight against the tiny woman. A tiny woman I'd just watched kick the shit out of men several times her weight, and who wasn't in charge of the PRT's CQC training for no reason.
"Hati?" she said, and I suddenly felt my heartbeat and breathing slow down, giving me the time to think about my moves.
Almost immediately, I felt and saw Murphy come closer, and it was all I could do to bring up my fighting sticks.
I felt, more than heard, the quick clack clack sound of sticks hitting sticks.
I pushed, and took a few steps back, creating more space between me and the instructor. Almost instantly, she reacted. I could feel her shift her feet with my bugs.
I prepared for her strike, the extra knowledge from my bugs telling me exactly where she was going to strike, and when she did, I was ready.
Which is what Murphy had expected me to do.
She'd attacked in such a way that best counter to her strikes would leave me open, and her leg kicked out, sweeping out for mine.
I could both see and feel her leg coming, but I wasn't fast enough, and she managed to throw me to the ground.
Falling in mid-air for what seemed like half a minute, I decided to counter by bringing up one of the sticks, striking out at her waist from the side.
I thought she hadn't seen it coming, but she quickly turned and countered it anyway, hitting me again before I'd even struck the ground, and countering my assault.
Then, she moved back, allowing me to stand back up again.
This time, I took the initiative, dashing forwards and striking out at range. She was stronger and more experienced, but also rather small. If I wanted to win, I'd have to use my reach, the same way Brian had used his superior size against me, back in the loft.
Of course, I'd been a novice back then, barely capable of punching someone without hurting myself more than my enemy. Lieutenant Murphy however, had like five different black belts, and it showed.
She stopped my attack perfectly, in a way that was probably exactly how they taught in textbooks.
Clack clack clack, the sticks went, and once again, I found myself on the floor.
For the second time, I stood up, and tried to think of a plan.
Reach didn't work, and I wasn't going to overpower her, nor was I going to be faster. Anything I'd try, she'd have seen a hundred times before.
Except for the things that made me unique. My powers, both of them. Magic wouldn't work, I was more likely to set the room on fire or blow up the lights than to actually disable my opponents, but my bugs would still work.
I went in again. This time, instead of staying at range, I went in close, close enough that she would have a hard time keeping track of all of my limbs, while my bugs would give me everything I needed to know about her movements.
I wasn't quite sure whether it was working, or she was just surprised at my recklessness, but I actually managed to get two hits in before she took control of the situation, predicting my moves using experience and speed instead of arthroproprioception.
After what felt like ages, I fell to the floor for the last time, this time at full speed, and I could hear the blood rushing through my veins at full speed.
There probably wasn't a part of my body that wasn't bruised and battered, but I actually felt like I'd learned something. Not enough to win, not by far, but maybe I wouldn't lose as heavily next time?
"Well fought, you almost had me a couple of times there," Murphy said.
Amy walked towards the two of us.
"I'm guessing you don't need any healing?" she asked.
"No, just a little tired, she's pretty good," Murphy replied.
"Well, you know the drill by now. Do I have permission?" she said, turning to me.
"Sure, go ahead," I groaned, feeling the sweet release of Panacea's power wash my wounds away. I had to admit, training with an expert like that, it was one of the neater perks of being a hero.
The wedding*?*
The girl looked in the mirror, trying to figure out who exactly was looking back at her. The figure looking back at her had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and lips that were thin, but not in a bad way.
That much was familiar.
The problem was, it didn't fit. First of all, the girl in the mirror was a bit too tall, courtesy of the murderously annoying heels on her feet. Her lips were a full red now, and her eyes were more curious than mischievous these days.
And her hair, her hair was the worst. Instead of hanging back, perhaps drawn into a ponytail, it was done up, fitted into a ridiculously complex array with gemstone-studded hairpins and an honest-to-god ancient hairnet that had apparently been in the MacFinn family for generations.
Also, scratch the bit about the hair being the worst. The dress was obviously the worst part. White, with lots of lace, and tight around the waist in a way that reminded her of a corset. At least it wasn't as bad as the stuff Tera was wearing; the wolf-woman had an actual veil and a ridiculous train behind her dress.
All in all, it was a rather ridiculous transformation for someone who, just over a month ago, had broken her way into the house of the lucky couple.
She heard the door open behind her, and in the mirror, she saw another woman enter. Older than her, about twenty or something like that, the woman was dressed much like she was, like a knock-off version of the bride.
"I thought it was the bride that was supposed to get cold feet?" Georgia asked. Tall, taller with the heels, and rail-thin, Georgia was one of the girls that Tera had taught how to become a werewolf. She studied psychology, and like all psychology students, she thought she was better at analysing people than she was.
"S'not the wedding," the girl replied. "S'what comes after."
"Ah… I'm guessing the paperwork came through?" Georgia asked.
"Yeah… My dad objected, but then he realized he'd been in jail for most of my life, and that he wouldn't get out for about twenty years. Then Tera's new job came in. Say what you want about them, but the PRT is pretty good at forcing its way through bureaucracy," the girl said.
Georgia walked towards her until she stood just behind the girl, one arm around her in what was probably supposed to be some sort of sisterly gesture. The girl had never had any big sisters, and her friends weren't really very good at the whole 'giving a shit' stuff, or at least they pretended not to be.
"Olivia, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You know that right?" Georgia said.
"I know… it's just… it's all so final. It doesn't feel like the wrong thing to do, but I don't know…" Olivia replied.
"It's alright. It's a big step, both for you and for them. It would be weird if you didn't feel anything."
Olivia looked down at her feet, and the murderously tall heels they were hiding in. She could barely walk in them, and she was supposed to look like a graceful young lady later today. It was all completely ridiculous, but Harley had asked her, and she didn't really have any reason to say no.
"Anyway, I came here to tell you that the guests just started trickling in. Thought maybe you wanted to go talk to some of your friends before the ceremony starts," Georgia said.
"I'll think about it," Olivia replied.
With that, Georgia left again, giving her one final pat on the shoulder.
Olivia just stood there, looking at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what was going to happen.
Her hands touched the sink, and she felt the metal basin through her power.
She could twist it, turn it, create a minion out of it, tear apart this entire farce and go completely wild.
Destroying things was easy, especially with powers.
Today, however, they were starting something new. Building something.
Building stuff was hard, she thought.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there, when the door behind her opened again.
This time, another girl entered the bathrooms, wearing a yellow dress, and actually managing not to fuck up walking with heels.
Grace, Katherine.
"So, fancy seeing you here Ol," Kat said.
"Same for you Kat, I don't remember inviting you," she replied, still slightly bitter.
"Not really, I mean, it's pretty normal to invite some co-workers to your wedding."
"It's also pretty normal to stick with your friends."
Kat walked closer, ending up right next to her, and they looked at each other through the mirror.
"Ol… You of all people should understand. It's just… us and them, we're different. We can do things, make a difference, all people like Molly and the rest can do at the stage we're on is play minion."
"So we just leave them behind?" Olivia asked.
"So we keep our distance. We make sure they're safe, and that they don't get involved. Don't lie, I know you've been doing the same fucking thing."
"Should you be cursing like that? I mean, what with your public image and all?"
"Me? I'm more worried about your habits. After all, you're the girl that's getting involved with old money here."
"They can take my words over my fucking corpse," Olivia said.
"That's more like it, that's the Ol I know," Kat said. "So, what're you going to do with your powers? You gonna join up?"
"They've got nothing on me, and if you tell on me, I'll tell on you."
"So that's a no, even though your new mom is-"
"Is going to join part-time, in case there's a situation where she can apply her power without any danger to her life," Olivia finished for her former friend. Current friend, whatever. Fellow cape, that would work as a descriptor.
"Anyway, you think you can leave the bathroom? The girls are waiting outside, waiting to shoot the shit one last time before you turn into a wealthy heiress," Kat said.
"Fine," Ol replied. "But it's your fault if I fall over in these heels. How do you even walk in them?"
"Powers, remember? Supernatural agility."
"Of course… guess I can't go storming in there on a minion huh?"
"Don't think so."
The two girls turned to leave the bathroom, walking slowly to make sure Olivia didn't fall over.
Outside, in the large wildflower garden that had been hired for the event, they spotted their friends, an array of rebellious teenage girls, dressed up all nice for the event. Most of them, even Grace now that she thought about it, had met the groom before. Of course, he'd been naked at the time, and furry, but that didn't really matter in the big scheme of things.
They'd been mingling, sort of. Two of them were talking to Bill, another werewolf and Georgia's boyfriend. Molly was talking to a boy, one that Olivia was quite sure was either Tecton, Wanton, or Annex. One of the wards anyway, this time out of costume.
Further away, she spotted some other individuals she knew. Tera, being a wolf and everything, hadn't had many human friends to invite, so they'd decided to bring just about everyone she knew. Olivia could spot Parian, or Sabah, wearing an almost impossibly fashionable dress and talking to an Asian lady. There was a ridiculously tall guy that could only be Campanile, and a slightly less tall but still really tall guy that was probably Myrddin, given the fact that he was wearing his amulet on top of his tie. He was talking to a Latina woman with a small notepad and an older Native American guy. There were two girls off in a corner somewhere, one of them with platinum blonde hair in braid, the other with long dark curls. Not part of her own posse, Olivia wondered who they knew. One of them, the blonde, was probably Cuff. Was the dark-haired gal the bug girl she'd heard about?
Her friends noticed her, and came closer, some of them making jokes, others patting her on the back, even more making fun of the stupid dress. It was okay, she was just happy they weren't getting eaten by wolves, literally.
Harley looked at her, and he was probably even more nervous than she was. In return, Olivia just smiled. Things would work out, probably.
The music started playing, and she saw the man's eyes start tearing up. In the meantime, she took a quick glance back, spotting the blushing bride, walking down the aisle. On two feet even, instead of four.
Instead of her father, who was probably off eating a moose somewhere, she was being escorted by the old Native American guy, who was apparently called either Joseph Listens-to-Wind or Injun Joe, depending on who you asked. He was some sort of big-time wizard, like Myrddin, but without being a superhero.
As the music ended, Tera ended up next to her husband to be. Harley turned, and looked at her, the nervousness melting from his face upon seeing her.
The minister, apparently someone Harvey had met through some sort of nature preservation program, and an ordained minister of the universal life church (a lot less impressive than it sounds) looked at them, and addressed the crowd.
"Beloved and Honored Guests: We are gathered here to witness the unison of these two people, as they give and receive their marriage vows. This is an important occasion of great significance, which is why I will not dally with long speeches."
The man paused for a second, and turned to Harley.
"Do you, Harley MacFinn, take this woman, Tera West, To be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love and honor, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her until death do you part?"
Harley smiled, and Olivia could see that he was looking at Tera, and Tera alone, mesmerized by those strange eyes of hers.
"I DO," he answered.
The minister turned, and this time, he spoke to Tera.
"Do you, Tera West, take this man, Harley MacFinn, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love and honor, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him until death do you part?"
"I DO," she answered.
The minister turned to the audience again.
"If there be anyone present who may show just and lawful cause why this couple may not be legally wed, let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."
Olivia looked at the audience, and saw a few eyes glance around, looking towards the guy she'd pegged as Myrddin. From what Kat had told her, half of the Wards had been afraid he'd cause some sort of shenanigans during the ceremony. Apparently, stuff usually went wrong when he was around. Not this time though, and the public kept silent.
Then, taking her cue, Olivia walked forwards a few steps,, and handed the couple their rings.
"Then, by the authority vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you man and wife. Sir, you may kiss your bride."
Harley didn't need to be told twice. In one smooth move, he ripped the veil from Tera's face, and gathered her in his arms, kissing her with wild abandon.
While they were kissing, and the crowd was ooh-ing and aah-ing, the minister motioned for Olivia to come closer as he was handling some paperwork.
"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out," he said.
"No, it's okay," Olivia replied.
The minister turned to the crowd again.
"Honored guests, before we continue on with the celebrations, there is one more thing that has to be done.
"Marriage is, in many cases, the first step towards the creation of a new family. In this case, too, is that what is happening.
"My old friend Harley however, was never one to let traditions bother him. Instead of waiting a couple of months, he and his wife have decided to start expanding their family today, and I have the paperwork here to make it all official," the man said.
Harley and Tera stopped kissing, and turned towards the location where Olivia and the minister were standing.
"If you would all sigh here, here, and here?" the man asked quietly, passing around the papers.
Olivia looked at the piece of paper, and what it meant. A way out, like she'd thought her powers would be. Only this time, it would probably work.
She signed, putting down the signature she'd spend half an hour refining that morning.
When everything was done, the minister motioned for the three of them to turn around, and spoke to the crowd again.
"Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Harley, Tera, and Olivia MacFinn!"
*MacFinn*