This actually doesn't overlap with any part of Monster's chapters.

What is this I don't even

First order of business: get the fuck out of town.

Since my purse has a decent chunk of cash for the moment, thanks to Daddy's laziness, I decide to take a cab out to the edge of town. I could just manipulate my way into a random car, but that's just reckless. A nicely-dressed girl hiring a cab isn't going to grab anyone's attention. (Okay, if I'm as pretty as I like to think of myself being, it absolutely will, but of a whole other kind) Just flagging down a random car is more likely to get people thinking I'm a streetwalker or otherwise worth remembering. I don't need to be taking risks now, certainly not of the kind that might help the fam track me. Not that hard to get more money, really.

That step goes smoothly. I almost let the cabby see how much money I've got by accident, but remember at the last second that I need to be careful with that. I could dull his curiosity or the like, but that wouldn't cause him to forget entirely, and now I don't have Daddy to cover for my mistakes, so it's important I not make these kinds of mistakes.

Once I've waved him off, I walk on past the edge of town, ignoring the chill. I'll be fine.

Once I'm... probably twenty minutes out, I start 'fishing' for someone to hitch a ride with. For the moment, I just want a ride to a hotel out of town. It takes... four tries before manipulating an oncoming driver to feel sympathetic results in an actual ride. It ends up being a little old biddy, who proceeds to regale me with a combination of talking about the son she's visiting and stories of her daring-do in her youth. I basically let her ramble, only tweaking her emotions enough to keep her from being particularly pushy about 'my story'.

The first hotel we encounter (In some no-name town), I get her to drop me off at. Turns out I'm too early/late for check-in, but some massaging of emotions later I've talked the desk jockey into, "making an exception, just this once." I deliberately overpay -their boss will be more likely to let it pass and forget about it if irregularities are to their benefit, and I'm trying to be forgettable right now.

Then I basically pass out for twelve hours.

When I wake up, the first thing I do is check if there's any signatures I recognize in my range. The answer is: yes, towards the edge of my range. Just Tube Lord again, though, still basically where he was last time I focused on him. Not that I'd know if Pauline had somehow found me... but not worth focusing on that.

Then I retrieve some snacks from my duffel bag and make myself eat. I'm honestly not that hungry, but I haven't eaten in... way too long. A day? More? Stomach may not be demanding anything, but I've still got to eat. I realize I don't have anything to drink, have some tap water. Stupid mistake to forget fluids, but not a big deal.

I hesitate, and then turn on the television. Local news, see if there's anything about Daddy, or anyone else in the fam. It's important enough to justify twenty, thirty minutes of nausea.

The answer? Maybe. Flaktrap gives a little speech about an 'unknown' parahuman who possibly brutally murdered a man in his apartment, but details are pretty light. It's basically a call for people to phone in anything unusual. Makes me glad I've been careful; my power is invisible in action, but I have had people recognize, after the fact, that they were being weird around me. Exactly the sort of thing that might get people phoning the PRT in this situation.

Then things segue into an interview with one of the heroes who fought at Ellisburg -I startle for a moment until I remember that Nix is the Vegas cape, not the Nine member- jabbering about how they lost some asshole named Satyrical blah blah blah, and I shut off the TV. Wish I had my laptop, it would make this easier.

No, don't think that way. Fucking Pauline might not have gone along with the 'double date' if I'd grabbed it. Too risky, and with Daddy dead... I'm not sure exactly what's going to happen with the fam, but it's probably going to messily self-destruct. Daddy was awful, but he did keep things... limited. I'm not so sure Pauline wouldn't, say, start killing us without his oversight stopping her.

Frustratingly, I realize I'm too tired to go anywhere. I'm barely able to make myself shower and change clothes before I collapse into bed again. I reassure myself that I did specify two nights in the first place.

Aunt Cordelia is back in my range when I wake up (Out of a nightmare, of course), along with three siblings. Two of them are nothings, but the third... adrenaline spiked, I barely even bother to eat before heading out and flagging down a new ride. It only takes me two tries this time, and it's actually a pleasant surprise to succeed in getting a man who is high and clumsily trying to seduce me. Not sure why he thinks he has a chance with me, but it means that talking him into letting me borrow his smartphone is trivial; I can brute-force the manipulation and let him blame everything, later, on the fact that he's high.

The internet is a little more informative, but not by much. All I really gather is that it's not crossed anyone's mind that Daddy might be dead. If they've found his body, they haven't recognized it. Or haven't announced it, but I can't imagine why they wouldn't if they thought he was dead. He's sometimes spoken of in the same breath as shit like Nilbog or the Three Blasphemies. If I were the Protectorate, I'd be crowing so loud they could hear me in Korea.

I get bored, hit up dope-man for conversation. He's got a cousin in the PRT somewhere southeast, and is heading out to fish and have beer with the guy. It quickly becomes obvious that dope-man is boring and depressing, and I lose interest in him entirely, maintaining just enough focus to keep him from wrecking us or bothering me. Instead, I fiddle with the phone.

Dude doesn't even have any (good) games on his phone. Contacts list is... short. Not sure why I looked, really. Boredom, I guess.

I go back to the internet and, on impulse, go rooting around about Ellisburg. Yadda yadda, Panacea is awesome, let's mourn our heroic dead, Dragon killed someo- wait, she did? I thought she was some kind of pacifist wimp. Hello? Creator of the Birdcage? I poke at that some more.

Yadda yadda, middle of the night, infighting occurred among the goblins... interesting... situation grew chaotic and Dragon executed a standing Kill Order. I guess she's fine with authorized murder? Actually, why hadn't they killed Nilbog sooner? A quick search determines... that I'm like the millionth person to wonder that since he died. The Protectorate's official stance is, "It was a delicate situation," no elaboration.

Weird. Dragon isn't even a proper member, isn't she? Is her pulling the trigger kosher?

I sit back and stare at the screen for a minute, feeling like... I'm missing something.

Finally, I shake myself, double-check my radius -back to just Tube Lord, and not for long at this rate- and shrug it off.

Not relevant to me.

Last time I ran away, the border crossing tripped me up. I buttered up the guy, spun a story about running away from an abusive household to meet up with a relative in the US, and... whoops, he didn't let me pass without making sure everything was in order. Nicholas and Guillaume caught up before I could salvage that mess.

Embarrassing.

I've learned and practiced since: be boring. Don't be sympathetic, don't be memorable, don't engage. Be the most dull, uninteresting person ever. If you're Boring Everyday Normal, then you can get away with flashing an 'ID' that's blatantly fake.

This time? I get through the border checkpoint easily enough.

... though it turns out the driver is a moron who kept his shit in the trunk. And the fact that he reeks of weed would've set off a dog if I wasn't clamping down on its emotions so that it feels utterly fucking bored. I actually have to back off when it starts to lay down, catching its handler's attention, and strike a balance of keeping it bored enough to not react but not so bored that it decides it wants a nap, all while sunnily smiling at the guards like I'm some dumb tourist who has no idea this could possibly go awry.

I legit thought for a bit there that the dumbass had forgotten his papers, actually, but no, he just... had them in the trunk. Because why fucking not, right? Probably took a hit and then started packing to go, fucking moron. Pack, then drug. Not drug, then pack. You-on-drugs is a fucking moron who can't be trusted to tie their own goddamn shoes, and you should treat them appropriately. Though I guess this guy is so stupid the difference is probably nil.

I make even less effort to pretend to interact with him after we're past the border crossing, because goddamn.

Some hours later, I make Whatever-The-Fuckface's Name Is drop me off at another, fancier hotel. I let him keep his phone, ultimately, because while I'm not thinking of a problem that might result if I keep it I'm also not seeing a real benefit. It takes a bit of finagling to get the loser to actually abandon me -he's got some thin sense of obligation or honor that won't let him without nudging from me- but ultimately I hit him with mounting disgust and horror as I talk about my period and how I am 'so glad' to 'have his support in my hour of need'.

He can't be rid of me fast enough after that.

That handled I walk into the hotel lobby and- wait, is that a computer for my use? Huh. Yeah, it is. I didn't know hotels did that. Convenient.

Checking in is simple. I spend more of Daddy's money, because I can see the cameras, and then I... well, originally I planned to drop my stuff in my room and use the computer, but I sit down in a chair in my room for 'just a minute' and its dark when I open my eyes. And I'm hungry. That's easily solved, though: order a pizza with bread sticks and a couple of soda bottles, wait for the luckless lad or lass to show up, dazzle them with my charm, good looks, and a chaste peck on the cheek while leaving them feeling like a superstar and/or god has deigned to give them attention, and close the door in their face while they wander off.

... okay, it turns out this particular pizza delivery boy is slightly more persistent than that, sitting in his car for a few minutes before he quite clearly has a wait a second moment and comes back to demand pay, but hitting him with mounting dread as he closes with my door and rewarding him with relief and some joy as he moves away works. Pavlovian Conditioning, are there no problems you can't solve? It doesn't even interrupt my meal. I can do this kind of thing in my sleep. I mean, not literally... not yet.

He has a nervous breakdown and probably cries like the bitch he is for a few minutes before driving off once he gets to the car, but whatever. By then I'm paying more attention to the city. There's an obvious cape flying around, being smug... a couple of signatures that are so messed-up I think they basically have to be capes, like with powers that mess with their heads... hm. I had this idea that Killer might be trackable somehow, but I'm not sure what I was thinking. Ugh, this is going to be, what? A grid search?

Hell, some capes can survive in the woods. Some choose to! Lunatics, all of them. So I can't even focus on cities and towns.

Ugh, I don't care that much. If I meet him, I meet him.

I finish eating and very deliberately belch. No one around to object! Fuck all of you, I'm free! So nice. Then I take my keycard and check out the computer. As it happens, there's someone already on it, but a minute of standing outside, tapping one foot impatiently, is plenty to send them running.

Oh, and ramping up their fear and dashing it with more basic anxiety. That too. How silly of me to overlook that!

With a proper computer, looking things up is a lot easier. I briefly look into new capes in the US -pretty sure Killer isn't Canadian, given his path and my failure to find him before the border- but nothing really leaps out at me as plausible Killer material. Focusing on capes in the north-east US is... well, there's possibilities-

Hell-o there.

Jean-Paul. I'd know your stupid haircut anywhere. Wow, I thought you'd done something smart that Daddy couldn't find you, but Daddy is just the most useless, fucking LAZY-

Ahem.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm.

I close the browser, delete the browsing history just in case, and head back to my room with a cheery wave to the sap at the desk. Their own cheer is faked. I fix that. I hate it when staff are being friendly and obviously imagining strangling me with my own intestines. I'm not stupid, come on. It's so easy, too, and it's always funny seeing them either decide I must be nice or something or have an identity crisis because apparently 'hating the customers' is a vital part of their self-image.

Once in my room, I lean back into my chair and finally allow myself to cackle like a maniac.

Leave me behind in your escape, will you, Little Jean? Thought you could just abandon your favorite sibling like trash, thought I wouldn't know you care so and yet still treated me this way? You thought wrong, bro. You thought so wrong.

The pain train is coming to Brockton Bay.

I end up stopping at another hotel before I get to Brockton Bay. I'm just so tired, and I don't understand why. I take advantage of the opportunity to read up on Jean-Paul's teammates. While I was hitching my latest ride -a chatty woman who lost my interest in about five minutes- it occurred to me that it would be profoundly stupid of me to assume he didn't deliberately pick allies suited to defeating me, Daddy, or any of the other powered people in the fam, and this hotel also has a computer for patrons. Why not, right?

'Hellhound' is easy to get info on. She's a bitch, Bitch is what she calls herself. Power makes monster dogs, probably out of regular dogs. I'm not real concerned about her. Unless her monster dogs are protected from me, she's nothing special. Jean-Paul can't control dogs, either, so he can't bypass my power with them.

You Are Eaten By A Grue worries me more. His apparent power is meh, but that name... I find myself thinking it has to be he's trying to be 'clever' and allude to another aspect of his power 'subtly'. The team ("The Undersiders," whatever that's supposed to mean) has consistently avoided fights, if the PHO wiki is to be believed, so it would be easy to be keeping an ace in the hole for a rainy day. I'd rather not learn he has a more murderous aspect to his power by being eaten alive. Should take him out of the fight promptly, definitely.

Last, Tattletale. Wiki's got nothing. Just a name, her affiliation, her gender, and, "This page is a stub. Be a hero blah blah blah." A wild card. Probably something subtle, too, given nobody knows jack about her. Name suggests ferreting out secrets or something, but if she's kept her power secret this long she might be the sort to pick a misleading name rather than an iconic one. If anyone will foil my power, it'll be her.

Little Jean is an idiot, incidentally. 'Regent' screams people control, and he's apparently pretending his power is just the involuntary twitches that happen as he feels out your nervous system. Are people really stupid enough to fall for this? He doesn't even hide his hair! Or dye it! I have no idea why the Protectorate hasn't come down on him like a building. Don't their offices talk to each other?

I try to think of something else to look up, blank, and then realize it might make sense to get the lay of the land. Maybe play a rival group into trying to kill Jean-Paul and his underwear pals? Need to know who they are to plot that, after all.

I'm surprised, very surprised, to learn that Lung is heading a gang in Brockton Bay. Last I heard the man was somewhere in California. Not overly concerned about it, as he's more about the cape scene than he is about hunting down and killing non-capes. His sidekick sounds a lot more worrying. A teleporter who's a repeated-suicide-bomber? Uuuugh. I hate teleporters. If I'm lucky, his range will be short, and I won't have to worry about him catching me off guard. Or he might have some sense of 'honor' like his boss, but I'm doubtful. Honorable people like to have more cutthroat minions so they can keep their hands clean while still getting shit done, so I'm kind of expecting Oni Lee to be Lung's personal, honorless attack dog. Something to worry about.

Biggest gang in the city is... called Empire Eighty-Eight. Means nothing to me. Wiki calls them Nazis, so I guess they're unusually awful by gang standards. I pop into somebody called Purity's entry, she's basically Legend-lite, but glowier. Eh. There's a ball of blades called Hookwolf... wouldn't want to fight him, but I'm not worried about him being in the city. Same for... Rune? Why is she called Rune? Her power is telekinesis. What do magical letters or whatever have to do with manipulating cars and shit? Honestly, getting a bit-

...

...

Wait.

Wait a goddamn second.

They're actual fucking Nazis. What? I- how have I not heard of this before? There's actual fucking Nazis within spitting distance of where I li- used to live?

Shocked, I go poking around online to see if there's some massive groundwell of Nazi support in the US I somehow never heard about before, but no. Empire Eighty Eight is reputed to have 'connections' to some German Nazi organization (Which seems slightly more logical, but still weirds me out) but that's about it. Just... two Nazi organizations bro-ing it up across the ocean, both in countries that overall agree that Nazis rate slightly above zombies as 'pour gasoline over them, strike a match, have a barbecue, and don't worry about whether you're still moral or not'.

Isn't Captain America still being written punching out Nazi zombies and shit? Are comics people just stone-cold badasses who give no fucks about reprisal?...

You know what? Never mind. I don't think I really care. I'm done with this shit, off the computer I go- I'm hungry. When's the last time I ate?... oh. That last hotel, I ordered pizza... yeah, I think that was the last time. Fuck. Sleeping a lot, can't keep track of my meals... what's wrong with me? Ugh. I end up getting pizza the same way as last time, after I've logged out and headed up to my room. The delivery girl doesn't come back to try to demand the money she's owed, instead having weird conflicted feelings and introspective-ness and yadda. Best guess? She's decided that being hot for me must have some deeper meaning, but I don't give a fuck. Have fun with your stupid crisis, girl. I'm not even going to be here tomorrow!

I manage to watch some TV (A nature program covering sharks. I don't think I can feel sharks. There's no nausea, anyway, so long as there's no fucking divers get off my screen you assholes) over breadsticks, soda, and two big pizzas. Takes me more than an hour to get through everything, but I never hit the point of feeling full. I just slow down after the first pizza, that's all. I've never eaten like this. Am I just reveling in freedom from Daddy? He didn't control my diet or anything, so that... doesn't seem like it makes sense? I guess it's possible, but I dunno. Something's going on, anyway, and I don't understand it.

Hm. Maybe I'm sick?

No, wait, I don't feel sick. I don't feel nauseous except when fucking Cousteau is on my screen, I'm not struggling to eat or anything. That... doesn't seem to add up.

Ugh, I don't know. This is going to drive me up the wall forever.

After I've eaten, I turn off the television, deal with everything that needs to be dealt with afterward, and lay down, "Actual fucking Nazis," circling around in my head.

Eventually I drift off anyway.

In the morning, I make damn sure to force myself to go to the hotel's free breakfast.

I mean, to be fair, I didn't even know free breakfasts were a thing when I went to the first hotel. Never stayed in a hotel before then, right? Just hijacked various people's houses/apartments/etc. But I should've noticed and taken advantage by the second hotel. Not here and now.

On the other hand, my appetite is all kinds of weird, has been since I got Daddy killed. (Unlikely possibility: I'm mourning him. Doubt it, but can't ignore it entirely) Maybe I wouldn't have been able to eat a proper breakfast even if I had known it was there to take advantage of. Also, this particular hotel's free breakfast is... eh. I can't compare it to other hotels, of course, but a muffin and some orange juice is pretty lame, really. I was expecting actual hot food. Steak, ideally, but even just some form of cooked egg would have been nice.

In fact, I'm sufficiently disappointed by the fare that I hit up a McDonalds afterward for fries and a burger. I actually pay for this one; they have cameras, I can spare the funding readily, and I'm tired enough I don't really want to muster the effort to do more than make the person giving me food actually goddamn smile with real happiness. I need to conserve my A game for when I hit Brockton Bay. I should be in range in an hour, three tops, and I'm going to need to keep out of Jean-Paul's reach very carefully, so carefully he doesn't even know I'm around, while I maneuver to punish him. I'm tempted to insert myself into Lung's silly gang, honestly -with a good enough costume, nobody has to know I don't fit the requirements for entry and anyway I've got my power and more importantly the idea of setting Lung on Jean-Paul is a delight I'm willing to suffer a bit to make happen.

From the McDonalds I manage to hitchhike again, catching a ride with a family that apparently lives in Brockton Bay and was coming back anyway from visiting relatives. I didn't even have to manipulate them much. Well, not to get aboard. The youngest girl I twist into disinterest in me when she won't back the hell off after I've made it clear she's irritating me, but they let me in basically out of the goodness of their hearts.

No, really. I can't detect any guilt they're trying to atone for or any lust from the parents or much of anything except some sympathy for me.

Weird.

They're all a bunch of lunatics.

They speak with pride -and it is real pride, my power tells all- about Brockton Bay's cape population. The parents routinely make bets about which cape would win in a fight, actual bets with real stakes. The father is good-naturedly arguing with his oldest son about Oni Lee vs Aegis (Whoever that is), with the mother periodically inserting herself into the conversation to point out things like: the Wards always patrol in pairs, at least, and so it's 'not realistic' to assume Aegis is alone in the fight, while Oni Lee usually does operate solo. She apparently has a long-standing bet that Armsmaster would beat Kaiser in a fair fight -something about plastics- and has bet something pretty significant on it. I'm not sure what the family bets. It doesn't sound like it's money.

The youngest girl is adamant that 'Vista' could take on all comers, after I've squeezed out her interest in me. I manage to infer, staring disinterestedly out the SUV's window, that Vista is the youngest of the Wards, and initially assume the girl is simply overly identifying with the Ward's youngest girl because she's her family's youngest girl. This assumption is busted when she rattles off long lists of facts -Vista's longest observed range, fastest observed alterations, 'most extreme' observed alterations, what matchups she's previously won, the list is unending- to back up her conviction. The family isn't merely humoring her, either, and takes most of her claims very seriously. Lung vs Vista is the only one where they are faking for her benefit.

Worse, I eventually gather that the family has friends they make similar bets with. The lunacy is contagious.

I rouse myself from my attempt to keep their attention away from me long enough to ask why they live in the Bay. The mother's answer is somehow unsurprising, yet still lunacy.

"Well, we both grew up in the Bay, of course, and I don't rightly know why our parents stuck around, but we love the cape scene and couldn't abandon it, and Brockton Bay is one of the cape capitols of America." She pauses, and I sense some dissatisfaction in her. "Of course, America isn't really the cape capitol of the world. If I could've picked where I was born, I'd take some place else in an instant. China, probably, or maybe a European country. I've always liked what I hear of the French cape scene..."

The father takes up after she trails off. "Sorry to say that the C.U.I. rejected our application to immigrate. We actually did, once, look into the African scene, and while we could probably live there, if only by failing to show up for the return ticket and then trying to live off the land, we'd be way out of touch with the cape scene living like that." He frowns slightly, as if forgetting something, and I can tell he's bugged by something. Then there's a pleased spike, and he nods and smiles as much as he can without taking his eyes off the road. "Oh, and of course we'd all be in dreadful danger in Africa. They don't have Heroes, did you know that? Warlords is what they have, and servant warriors. None of this Heroes vs Villains stuff. No parahumans to protect us from parahumans? Man alive, we'd probably die the instant one looked funny at us."

I try to conceal my smirk. Like you're that safe here.

Then I realize there was absolutely no fear while he was talking. The possibility of death was a side note, something he'd forgotten entirely. My smirk falls away in favor of stone-facedly staring out the window. If I didn't have my powers, this would be terrifying. As-is, it's still creepy that the family values... what, spectator sports? So much that dying while trying to follow it doesn't bother them. And it is the family, not just the father. I'm not even sure he's the nuttiest nutjob of the bunch.

I worry, for a moment, that Brockton Bay will be filled with crazy people like this. Then I dismiss that thought. Don't be ridiculous. You can't have an entire town of crazy people: it wouldn't function. Certainly not well enough for this family to be as comfortable as they are.

Incidentally, Brockton Bay is entering my range. No Jean-Paul yet, and no obvious capes... not yet. The city's early mood is... grimly determined. Might just be this edge of the town, though, a slummy part of town. It relieves me a little regardless, because no, the city isn't made of lunatics like the ones I'm riding with. It just contains a few. A minority, easily ignored. I'd hate to imagine that Jean-Paul had thrown his lot into a madhouse. It might suggest a familial tendency, a similarity.

Not a lot I can to do to fix myself if I'm crazy.

"Fatherfucker!"

The entire family jerks to look at me, even the father, but then I twist all of them until they just don't care. And then tweak the father so he's actually paying attention to the road again, a frisson of fear to focus him.

Of all the pure, stupid, blind luck... Killer is here. In Brockton Bay! I honestly thought I was going to lose interest in trying to find him before I actually found him. I know my own attention span, my own patience. They are not fantastic, and I had almost nothing to go off of. I'm not a real tracker, not really, not in power set, not in skillset, and Killer is pretty damn fast when he wants to be. Since I didn't find him in the first few hours of fleeing... I thought that was it.

This changes things. I mean, Jean-Paul is still getting his just desserts, but he can keep. I still need to get more information about Killer, so I can find him again if he moves. Besides, maybe Killer will be my hammer of justice. He dealt with Daddy, after all. Jean-Paul might punch his buttons. I might even be able to talk Killer into doing it without any manipulation at all! If he could kill Daddy successfully, I doubt Jean-Paul has any protection from him. Gonna have to wait and see how Killer's personality shakes out, though. Might be difficult to talk him into properly punishing Jean-Paul, might be difficult to wrangle him into seeing things my way.

I settle back to ignoring the family, more closely monitoring what I'm hearing from the city.

Turns out the family lives in some suburbs, and while the mother indicates she'd be willing to drop me off somewhere after they've gotten into their house, I don't want to stick around.

The city's mood?

Yeah, grimly determined.

Oh, there's parts of the city that are... less unhappy, let's go with. There's even people who are basically happy, though I'm pretty sure they're violence-seekers and other sorts of adrenaline junkies, at least most of them. But overall, people in this city clearly think they live in a kind of Hell on Earth that they just need to survive long enough and eventually it will get better. Or maybe they just think nowhere else is any better, either-or. I'd question why there aren't people desperate to escape the sinking ship, but that's a stupid question: they already escaped.

Duh.

Jean-Paul was easily identified, of course. I think he's playing video games right now, going by how his mood is shifting. He's not moving, himself, and no one else is nearby (Unless, say, the Tattletale girl is immune to my power) so I'm pretty sure I'm right. Mostly sure.

I've also, almost certainly, pinned down Oni Lee. His signature duplicates, and then vanishes until there's just one. It's surprising how unsettling it is, though not nearly so unsettling as realizing his mood is flat for unnatural reasons. See, he's calm. Really calm. Some people are like that, so I didn't question it at first. Then he got into a fight, terrorized someone, killed them. His emotions were the same throughout: a kind of almost-bored disinterest in the proceedings. No fear, no satisfaction in victory, no looking forward to any kind of reward or anything. Just... boredom. Even when his opponent -victim?- was terrified and, I'm thinking, begging for mercy, Oni Lee felt... bored. I'm not sure if some people are just like that, and I didn't notice because nobody in my range historically who was like that got into an obvious fight, or if Oni Lee's power did something to his head. Hopefully he's still susceptible to my manipulations, because if he's not... I don't have a good answer to him. Plan: Get Beside Lung is looking a lot less appealing now. Lotta risk, little reward.

I'm not sure what's going on with Killer. My first thought was that he was an office drone, because he's fairly static... but then he moves periodically. Regularly. I don't know shit about actual jobs, but I can't make sense of the pattern, 'cause it's not just him. He's clustered with people, and most all of them pick up stakes at the same time as him, but they don't move as a group. There's an entire building, from what I can tell, almost all of them doing this weirdness.

The pattern nags at me as familiar, but I can't call it to mind. I make a resolution to arrange to see Killer 'coincidentally', ferret out what's going on. Especially since Killer is, bizarrely, much more tense than when he was stalking Daddy. Lotta anger... but also some fear? There wasn't fear back home. Anger? Yeah, scarily so, more than here. But no fear, not until...

I frown. Wow, I was so busy hurrying to leave the fam, I didn't even notice how Killer was scared after he killed Daddy. Weird. Why was he afraid after he killed Daddy? Was he worried he'd be caught by the authorities? Hm. Maybe he didn't realize it was Daddy until after he killed him, and then panicked once he recognized him, worried the fam would retaliate. (I snort at the thought. Pauline's loyal enough, I think, but I doubt she's motivated enough. Pretty sure everybody else would be too busy watching their own back to go looking for trouble) Definitely missing something important there.

Anyway, Killer, tenseness, mostly anger, some fear. Worried he's going to get fired from his job? Hates his boss?... no, that doesn't fit. Group dynamics indicate he's going from one boss to another, if I'm following this at all correctly. Everybody's reacting primarily to one individual in their little cluster, and Killer's mood is pretty constant throughout. He doesn't hate any of these bosses much more than any other, if he hates them specifically. Might be that he hates his job, but is still worried about getting fired from it.

Then during one of the bizarre, chaotic transfers that keeps happening, Killer gets cornered by a cluster of people. Killer wants these people dead. The group is... feeling vaguely superior. Prideful. Haughty. Little bit of actual anger. Hm. Maybe Killer is a talented new hire, and the other employees resent him making them look bad? Oh, there's a spike of anger from Killer. Something happened, not sure what. Not sure why Killer hasn't just broken through the group, it's only four people. He's restraining himself from just gutting them all, though. He thinks he could take them. Hm. Contempt, in fact. If I'm reading this right... he's assuming he can take them. Not 'I can take them', but 'they live only because I allow it'.

Parahuman vs normies, probably, so yeah that's pretty understandable, but it's still useful to know, and also makes it a little strange that he's putting up with this bullshit. Just rend them, end them, move along. Why play at being normal?

I check into a hotel -actually check in with actual money again, not sure how long I'll be here and this one clearly has enough money I wouldn't be surprised if they're prepared for capes- and keep 'listening in' over the course of the day, just laying in bed. (I'm still tired, but not enough to sleep, and now I'm not even hungry!) Eventually Killer goes to what I assume is his home. He spends some time doing... something. Not sure what. It involves holding still and concentrating. It's only during this period that I notice that Killer's weird, flat mood is.. not a consistent thing. It wasn't happening at all at the office or whatever, but it kicked in full force while he was alone until shortly before he sat down and started concentrating. Really wanting to know what's going on there.

I pay attention to other stuff -like where the idiots provoking Killer go and how they feel and stuff like that- but eventually I

drift... off.

I'm awake. It takes far, far too long for me to notice that it's night, as my attention first goes to Killer. He's up and about, and he seems unbothered. I can't read tiredness directly, but people's profiles shift in a fairly consistent, distinctive way as they get exhausted, even quite early in the process. Killer doesn't read to me like he's tired at all. He did earlier, at the office, eventually, but now he's alert, wide awake. Does he... need less sleep than normal? Hm. He was, what, popping across the border every night? So I guess he'd kind of have to be able to do without sleep or sleep less, really. Ugh, stupid Cherie, duh.

... still. He was getting tired at the office, but not now that he's skulking around the city? I guess maybe his power somehow makes itself visible when he's preventing himself from becoming tired? Not a glow. I would've noticed it back ex-home when I caught glimpses of him. A sound, maybe? Or maybe some deformity. Skin of glass or something silly like that. Some reason why he doesn't want to show it off during work.

Then I'm distracted from my thoughts by the reason why I woke in the first place: bathroom, now!

...

After that's dealt with... well, I'm tired. And Killer is being boring. He's looking for something, getting frustrated, kind of like when he was looking for Daddy, like in the early stages of looking for Daddy. Probably someone, really.

... wow. Aren't serial killers normally, like, pacing their kills by years, or at least months? Certainly, a few weeks between, at minimum. Killer's really living up to his nickname if he's so eager for a target already. I should try to see if there's been any brutal bloodbaths in Brockton Bay news recently, it's hard to imagine he's not killed a bunch of people out of sheer frustration or something.

... maybe in the morning.

Breakfast, done. Listening in to Killer? Yeah, he's at his home again. There's someone else there, which I didn't notice last time because, well, my power doesn't exactly give me landmarks. It didn't occur to me that this other dude was in basically the same area as Killer until they were actually interacting. Not sure what's going on there. My first thought is that Killer's got a 'special someone', but that doesn't seem right. The two have some love for each other, but no lust, and it's buried under all kinds of strain. I'm having trouble imagining a couple sticking together like this, and bits and pieces of other things don't feel like a couple to me.

But they don't act like roommates, either. Puzzling.

Whatever the case, the two of them separate before I finish my (free) breakfast. Shit. I bolt down the rest of my meal and hurry to catch a bus -they're pretty distinctive to my sense, a pile of people moving at high speed- because I'm trying to get a good look at Killer.

At this point I'm dead curious about what kind of person he is.

I end up having to get off the bus early to avoid entering Jean-Paul's reach, skirting around his radius on foot. I could simply hitch a ride with someone, but I don't think it's necessary. Killer is taking a bus crowded with other people, and its route is pretty roundabout for Killer's destination. Curiously, nobody is getting off, only on. Some kind of company bus? I think that's a thing. Point being? I have a decent amount of time to make the rest of the walk.

Then I get in sight of the building.

"No. Way."

I breathe the words out.

It's a school! A high school, admittedly, but still a damn school. Killer isn't on a company bus, and if he's on a bus he's not a teacher. He's a student.

I close my eyes and breathe for a couple minutes, trying to ignore the feel of the entire city. Wait, I think I just identified Lung, Oni Lee is interacting with someone who... is moody and takes Oni Lee's loyalty as a given, I'm thinking. I guess it could be a civilian boss- no, he just duplicated. Could be one of Lung's lieutenants, I guess. I think some gangs don't put all the capes at the top? Silly, I know, but it's what I've heard, and what I've sensed back ex-home fits with it.

Arrrgh, focus.

Killer is... a high school student. That's... hm. Well, it means he's, ah, moldable. Not already set in his ways, maybe even looking to shake up the establish-

Nilbog.

Killer did it!

... okay, it's all circumstantial, weak evidence, but it makes so much sense.

... assuming Killer's self-confidence isn't delusional, anyway.

...

Well, okay, it's really weak, but I like the idea of it and if I claim I 'figured it out' it'll put him off-balance, puff up his ego, make it easier to mold him without him having the chance to notice. And if I'm wrong? Eh, oh well. No big deal. Not like his opinions matter in the long-term anyway.

Oh shit, Killer's bus is almost here.

I hustle while trying to look like I'm not hustling, try to anticipate where the bus is going to offload and set up where I'll be behind Killer so he can't see me seeing him, get it a bit off, and there we go.

...

...?

...?!

It's not until someone 'accidentally' (Sure hun, I can tell you were gleefully anticipating it) trips Killer that I'm sure I'm not misunderstanding what I'm seeing.

Killer's a girl.

... okay, pretty confused now. I mean, okay, possibly wanting to bang Daddy is, uh, way creepier and way less surprising (One of my aunts did seek out Daddy, after all), but jealousy? I'm pretty sure wanting your own harem isn't very normal if you're female and not one of Daddy's spawn. Maybe pop culture has misled me horribly? Or... I guess Killer could just be a freak, with pop culture having told me the complete and unabridged truth about your typical female. Hmmm. I think I'll assume the latter for the moment and keep an eye out for more evidence of the former.

Huh. Now I'm really curious what Killer's power is. Must not be good at getting a harem if he -no, she- doesn't already have one. Fits with my thinking that the no-sleep aspect of her power has an obvious and repulsive aspect to it, too. Actually, there's a thought: did Killer think she could steal Daddy's harem by killing him?

...

No, wait, she ran away right after killing him. Or... wait, Aunt Cordelia freaked out. So maybe she killed Daddy, went, "Behold love slaves! It is I, your new lord and mistress, Killer! Worship me!" and it didn't work the way she thought it would, and she ran. Though. I'd have expected her to kill them if they dissatisfied her so? I mean, Aunt Cordelia was definitely alive long after Killer left, and... I'm pretty sure the other girl hadn't been killed? I might've overlooked her death, admittedly. Or maybe I'm just overestimating Killer's bloodthirstiness. She hasn't killed any of...

... it's been about ten minutes and there's been as many 100% deliberate 'accidents' as there's been minutes. From about seven people so far. So that's seven people Killer restrained herself from killing, who she very much wants dead. So okay, I'm being silly. She probably just got disappointed and left. (Or maybe it worked, and she was afraid because the truth of that kind of blind devotion didn't fit with her fantasies?) Hm. Maybe she was looking for Jean-Paul in hopes that he has a harem she can steal? Last night? Wait, wait, no. 'Regent' was listed as being able to make people flinch, trip, lose their balance, etc. Just because Jean-Paul's 'disguise' is about as thin as the emperor's new clothes to me doesn't mean everyone else knows who he is on sight. Ugh, stop being stupid Cherie.

I weave my way to a nice little restaurant to 'listen in' on Killer's day, now with the benefit of knowing she's a student at a school, and when I'm done with eating make my way to the hotel, still 'listening in' and thinking about the direction I'm going to take this now.

Okay, so.

A school she hates, filled with people who are all shitty to her or at least willing to look the other way when other people are shitty to her. There's some people who are genuinely oblivious, but only one of them seems to earnestly want to be friendly to her (By which I mean lust after her) and it's pretty obvious the kid is unwanted. The teachers... it's difficult to pin down who they're reacting to without being present, and I don't want Killer recognizing me before I've got a plan on how to handle her, but I think a couple are genuinely sympathetic to her. Doesn't seem to help particularly, though. My read on the situation is that it basically means Killer's harassers just distribute the obnoxiousness differently.

I frankly have no idea how she hasn't killed all of them in their sleep by now.

I've tentatively decided the person she's living with is her father. Might be her mother, and I'm not willing to trust my judgment with Killer's family when it comes to gender now, but overall the signature makes me think 'male'. I might check in on the dude at some point more directly, but I'm not overly concerned because he doesn't seem to be a parahuman at all. I force myself to stay awake with coffee until past ten at night -I was ready to fall asleep at five in the afternoon, goddammit- and Killer quite clearly waits for the man to fall asleep and then sneaks out of the house to do her thing, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't know Killer's got powers, either.

Even with the coffee, I drift off at... probably 10:20? That's the last thing I remember the clock saying, anyway. When I wake up, it's to room service harassing me at eleven.

Why am I sleeping so goddamn much?

Ugh, this is maddening.

I pass this morning with food and 'listening in' to Killer's father, returning to my room once room service is done with it and continuing to 'listen in'. Killer's father is a depressive sort, and I'm not sure if it's just because of Fucking Brockton Bay or if it's more personal than that -divorced recently? Dead spouse? I haven't detected a third member of the house yet- or what, but he seems to be powering through more on momentum than a real zest for life or a conviction things will get better. He also doesn't seem to be real involved in his kid's life: I'm pretty sure both yesterday and today the two didn't call each other via cell phone, and they don't seem to spend time around each other physically, particularly. A brief interaction over probably-breakfast, and when they are both actually home at the same time in the afternoon they spend time together for maybe an hour but I think it's just dinner.

... that's it for both days.

In the afternoon, something strange catches my attention: one of Killer's harassers is roof-hopping!

Hmmmm.

Iiiiiinteresting.