A/N: I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it. The suits were tricky, but how do you improve upon Edna's perfection?!
To anyone potentially offended by my description of Sacha as 'black' as opposed to 'African American.' She is not American nor African so I felt the descriptor was appropriate. Just smoothing any ruffled feathers.
Also if anyone would like to have a chapter from Mirage's PoV please let me know! I've been toying with the idea but I don't want things to get confusing changing characters back and forth. Enjoy and stay tuned!
Chapter 3
I spend the day walking around with a bowl of chowder I keep managing to refill. I am oddly starving. I think it has to do with the new way I am using my powers. I run my hands over the sandstone walls, taking everything in like a tourist. A smile quirks my face when I find the library. I haven't had much time to do anything but training. I turn in a slow circle taking in all of the books.
"It's no Alexandria but I can't say I haven't tried." Mirage's voice floats over to me from a brown leather chair. I'm a little suprised to see her, legs crossed and draped over the arm of the chair. She licks her finger and turns the page of book she's holding. She doesn't look up.
"I've always wanted a library like this." I run my fingers lovingly over elegant dark wood shelves. "Most of my books are in boxes. I don't have enough space for them all."
"I can't imagine you make much at that bookstore." She closes the book, running her fingers over the cover fondly. It must be a favorite. It looks familiar.
"I don't do it for the money." I dare a few steps closer. "What are you reading?"
"You might think less of me," She passes the book to me. It's an early edition of Treasure Island. "I'm partial to adventure."
"Well that much is obvious." I turn the book over. It's been restored recently, the binding fresh. I open it, fully recognizing the work when I get to the illustrations.
"Hey! I did this! The restoration." I look up at her, surprised.
"You took your time about it but the end result was worth the wait." She smiles at me.
"Funny story about that. When it came in, it was in such bad shape. I was so mad that someone would mistreat a book like that. I felt like keeping it...a rescue sort of." She looks adorably incensed. "But the more I worked on it the more I could tell whoever owned it must have really loved it. They must have had it for a long time. I knew I had to do a really good job for this person."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Not...not that I'd ever do a bad job!" I blurt, waving frantically. "Just that I knew this person would really appreciate it if I took my time and did the very best that I could."
"I did appreciate it." Her voice is low, a honeyed whisper. I blush to my ears. I don't notice that one of my hands is invisible; the one holding the book. My mouth is dry.
"Incidentally I have had it quite a long time; since I was a child. It's an old favorite."
"Me too." I squeak. Nice.
She reaches out to take the book, her fingers brushing my invisible hand. She jerks her hand back startled. The book hits the floor. We both rush forward to pick it up.
-Smack-
Our heads collide. I reel backwards, all legs and elbows. I sit up, pressing a hand to my head. A sound reaches my ears. She is laughing.
"Oh. I'm sorry Violet it's just..." She bursts out in laughter again.
"Just what?"
"You look like a baby giraffe." She can't stop giggling. It's infectious. For minutes we sit there in the floor laughing like idiots. She quiets down, her gaze resting on me. I feel it like a touch. I shiver.
She bites her lip and looks away, almost shyly. She gets to her feet, offering a hand to help me up. I take it. I wait for her to let go. She doesn't seem to realize she hasn't yet. She reaches over, brushing a hand over the spot where we bumped heads. A lump is starting to form. I swallow hard. The spell is broken.
I step away, looking around for an excuse to go. I spot my empty chowder bowl and snag it gracelessly.
"I should uh...yeah get rid of this. No food around the books right?" A nervous laugh works its way out of my chest. I turn and hurry out of the room. Once in the hall I slow down, pushing back thoughts I haven't indulged in while. The sensation of her fingertips on my head lingers. Her hands are so soft. I bite my cheek and keep walking. I'm not going to jinx it. Whatever this is.
. . .
The armory is impressive; more like a museum than anything else. Case after case is filled with old super suits and gadgets, even some old villain accoutrements. Each had a delicate golden placard in front detailing the owner, their powers and the years they were active.
Along the wall on the opposite side is another display case the size and length of the wall itself. Inside were hundreds of newspaper clippings, posters and propaganda displaying the heyday of supers; articles about my parents and other supers saving the city every day. I wonder how hard it was for them to live normal lives...how did they even fall in love in the first place? There's no time between training and certain calamity.
There is a section dedicated to the Relocation Act; hard years for everyone, not just supers. I never realized it was my father who started it all, saving that man from his suicide attempt. I think so much more of him now, more than I ever have. He's always been my hero. No matter how much these humans blamed him, he only wanted to help them, to save them. Back then it was just regular criminals, men with guns, gadgets and costumes. Accidents and natural disasters. Now it's...something else.
It feels like a Holocaust exhibit. I move farther along the wall, gasping when I spot my face beaming back at me from a clipping. My family stands proudly in the photograph, accepting our minimal 'thanks for saving the city.' It's hard to believe I was only 14 when that happened. It's in a section showcasing recent supers and the good they have done since the RA. It makes me feel hopeful for whatever Mirage has planned for this place. My fingers touch the glass over my face. I find myself hoping our suits don't match.
"Was it scary?" A voice floats over to me from the left. Petra stood beside me, eyes roaming the newspaper clippings. I reach over to give her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. She flinches violently away from me.
"Hey I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your personal space." I lift my hand and step back a little. She turns red, bright against her incredibly pale skin.
"It's not your fault." She pats me awkwardly. "I'm sorry I'm just not used to people."
"That's okay," I can't help but wonder what she means by that. I remember she asked me a question. I look back at the page, the punctured carcass of Syndrome's robot looming behind us.
"Yeah. It really was." I whisper, unable to forget the feeling of that thing slamming down on me and my brother. I don't know how I held it together.
"I don't know if I can do this..." She looks at the floor.
"Don't worry Petra. This isn't anything like what happened with Syndrome."
"This is the first time I've ever done anything like this...being outside." The last two words are almost inaudible.
"You've never been outside?" That explains the skin and hair. I look at her, trying not to sound like a jerk about it. She shakes her head.
"Why not? If you don't mind talking about it?"
"My mom is agoraphobic." She seems to curl inward, my heart breaks for her. "She always told me it wasn't safe outside. That that was why my dad never came home."
"What happened to your dad?"
"He died in a freak car accident. Mom couldn't handle the stress of losing my dad and she had just had me so, I guess somewhere she broke inside." Petra whips around to face me, tears in her eyes. "She doesn't even know I'm here..."
"Sshh, its okay." I pull her close, holding her tightly. "I'll keep you safe Petra." It's a promise.
I spot Dash watching us, sitting in a chair near a curtained wall. I released Petra and walk over to him, dropping hard into the chair beside him.
"Are you excited Vi?" He is practically vibrating. I know he loves the pomp of it all. It's why he plays soccer. Professionally. I smile and give him a gentle nudge. Petra sits on his other side. A short, loud woman enters the room with Mirage in tow.
"I'm never late for anything you know that." The woman spots us and rushes over, a huge smile on her face. "Darlings! How are you?"
She seizes my cheek in a painful pinch, pulling me close to her enormous glasses.
"You've gotten so big, your mother should be proud." I lean out of her grasp, rubbing my sore cheek.
"Hi..uh Edna, right?"
"Of course, darling. You expected someone else?" She crosses her arms, looking away to pout. I turn pink.
"No, it's just we've never met before."
"Inconsequential!" She swats me, interrupting. "I made you two suits, two, without ever laying eyes on you."
Dash giggles. I feel triumph inside when she smacks him too, drawing a small black remote from inside her jacket. She pushes a button and the curtain draws back to reveal a large space encased by inches-thick glass.
"Dashiell, your suit is similar to the one I made you before." Another click of the button reveals a robotic mannequin. The suit is brilliant; red, orange and yellow with thick black stripes on the arms, legs and chest ending in tapering chevrons. The arms and legs simulate running, moving faster than I think Dash can even go. "I added a gyroscopic stabilizer to the chest to aid your balance when climbing walls or running on water. Your shoes expand to make travel easy in an arctic situation."
She clicks the remote. The benches slide quickly down the viewing area to the next suit.
"Your suit Petra, was a challenge for me. The fabric kept me awake forever I assure you." Edna peers at the girl over her glasses as if imparting the struggle she had undergone. "The end result is a nice blend that will mimic your biometrics and simulate a second skin layer to grow your stone upon. The suit is designed to withstand heavy impact to prevent transfer damage to your body, something I'm sure you struggle with now."
Edna seizes Petra's hand, tutting at the bruises across her knuckles. It never occurred to me that while Petra's stone hit the target, her fist hit the stone. It must be incredibly painful. I admire her suit, pale green with jagged cuts of light blue and darker green. It looks like a gemstone; I think it even shimmers. I find myself more than excited to see mine. The bench slides down to the end.
"Violet, I made you something like your old suit as well." The mannequin descends. My jaw drops. It's nothing like my old suit. The fabric is white with a twin spiral of lavender and violet circling around the left leg, waist and terminating at the right wrist. Her work in the fashion industry shows. "It will disappear as completely as you do. I added micro enhancers in the gloves to help you maintain your forcefield longer with less effort."
Dash can't contain himself anymore. He zips up to Edna, squeezing her in a tight hug that clearly makes her uncomfortable.
"You're amazing Edna, just the best!"
"I know, darling. I know."
. . .
"See anything yet?" My radio crackles into life, Dash's voice creeping into my ear as if he were standing next to me. I tap the side of my mask, changing the readout to night vision. It's so much more than a mask now.
"Nothing here," I reply. Petra answers similarly. It's fully dark now. We've been here for hours; Petra on the ground floor, me on the roof and Dash on the floors in between. I walk over to the edge, tapping the mask again to reset to normal vision. I watch the patrol car circle the lot for the fourth time. They're being too obvious for my liking. The air feels crackly, like just before a storm.
Everything happens all at once.
I feel the EMP hit me like a wave, disrupting all the systems in my suit. I am thankful the mask lenses are clear. I stumble a bit, yelling into my radio; it's dead. I hurtle towards the door. A deafening screech hits me before I get to the door. I fall to the ground, clapping my hands over my ears. Every exterior window shatters, raining glass onto the officers patrolling below. I feel a sticky fluid leaking from my left ear. Fuck.
I open the roof access door and dart into the stairwell. I emerge into the main foyer. Dash zips up to me, face white.
"Violet?!" He shouts, forgetting we are supposed to use codenames when the radio is out. "You..you're not going to believe this!"
I open my mouth to ask. I am answered with a bone shaking roar. He's right. I don't believe it. I'm looking at a fully grown, 500-pound Siberian tiger.
"Go! Get out of here and find Stonewall!" I shove him violently, putting myself between him and the tiger. He doesn't question me for once in his life, speeding off to find our missing teammate. I square off with the animal. Why hasn't it attacked me yet? Maybe it's under some kind of mind control? The tiger lunges, swatting the air as I just manage to skip out of the way. I run the opposite direction of Dash, hoping to draw its attention. It works.
I sail around a corner, yelling triumphantly when the beast slides on the the linoleum floor, crashing into a display case. I make it to the ground floor, looking around for my brother.
The tiger returns, landing heavily in front of me, snarling viciously. I pull back, launching an orb at the creature. I put everything into it, my mind screaming: semi-truck, concrete, ten-ton weight. It connects solidly with the tiger's jaw, a sickening crack resounding through the foyer. The force of the hit knockes the tiger off it's feet.
"Stonewall! Supersonic!" I shout, desperate for a reply. I still haven't seen the other two...Banshee and Blackout. My ear is ringing. They certainly made their presence known.
A sharp pain lances across my bicep claws ripping cleanly through my suit like it wasn't even there. I cry out. I hit the ground. Here I am, face to face with a tiger. Hot breath splashes across my face, heavy paws holding me to the floor. I screw my eyes shut against the ivory teeth bared at my neck. I wont go out like this.
I focus hard, forming a hard barrier between myself and the animal. It expands forcefully, throwing the tiger free before disappating. I surge to my feet, ready with another orb. I freeze at the sound I hear. The tiger is chuffing...laughing at me.
I watch, horror struck, as the creature's sleek coat roils and writhes as if filled with many unwinding snakes. The form changes: orange and black fur to deep brown skin, paws to hands and feet. I am left facing the girl in the last photograph. Sacha Arbis.
"I like the way you hit girl." Her voice is accented, thick, maybe Caribbean. She presses a hand to her bleeding lip and jaw, a twisted smile touching her face. "Not good enough girl! You have to do better than that."
Her body jerks, limbs snapping into unnatural positions. I feel like I'm getting smaller...she's getting bigger. Her dark skin gives way to thick leathery scales, powerful muscles erupting all over her expanding frame. I try not to faint when she's finished. It's too much. I hear her voice a final time before she changes completely:
"I'm gonna get you, Violet." Shit.
Glass rains on me when the creature butts its head against a display near the top floor. I spot a flash of red to my left. Dash.
"No way..." I can hear him from here. I don't believe it either. It's impossible.
Tyrannosaurus Rex.
I feel lightheaded, my arm bleeding badly. Strong arms lift me from the floor. It's Petra. I watch, helpless as Dash rips down a large curtain, hurtling towards the monstrous clawed feet. I try to call out to him, drowned out by the roar.
Petra is carrying me away. I try to fight her, to go back for my brother. A huge quake shakes the ground. Petra loses her footing, dropping me to the ground. Just as quickly, she lifts me again and runs. I hear the faint sounds of the chopper waiting at the rendezvous point. Petra deposits me in the helicopter climbing in quickly behind.
"We have...we have to go back." I'm panting now, trying to keep from passing out.
"Go back for what?" Suddenly Dash is sitting next to me. I cling to him, unable to hold back my sobs of relief.
"How did you get away?" The helicopter lurches upward; my stomach drops out making the creeping nausea worse.
"That building's maximum occupancy is 4400 people...not one dinosaur. It didn't fit right. I tripped it with the curtain. I doubt it can get back up again." I can't bring myself to laugh at his stupid joke. I hurt too much.
"It's Sacha...she's," I struggle against the encroaching black. My arm burns. "She's a shapeshifter."
I cling once more to Dash's arm, pleading.
"Tell...make sure you tell her," I can't finish the sentence. The darkness envelopes me, drowning out the noise of the helicopter as it bears us to safety.