D

by Kahlil Johnson

Usu

2. Ass

Name for a young swan

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

My session ended in five minutes and I was not ready.

It was funny. I had deliberated this, waffled back and forth, looked forward to it and dreaded it and spent days crippled with anxiety. Now that it was happening I had no idea what to feel. I fidgeted, fiddling with my pen, doodling in the margins of my journal. My eyes drifted to Doctor Yamada's wall clock and back down to her and back again. She was reading something on her clipboard.

We'd tried talking for the first ten minutes, but it'd lapsed into silence that just stretched on and on. I couldn't help but feel rotten for that. It wasn't like I disliked Yamada. Our sessions were usually the highlight of my week. Doctor Yamada had been in my corner since day one.

At least I didn't need the straightjacket anymore. That had been awful- the feeling of complete helplessness; or, worse, the certainty when my control slipped that I could free my arms whenever I wanted. That I could get loose whenever I wanted, and just wasn't acting on it. I had graduated from the straightjacket to a band around my ankle. I had graduated from talking across a phone separated by glass in a twenty by twenty cell to a white padded room with a couch and a chair, a room that at least pretended to not be a cell.

Doctor Yamada was in a red blouse and khaki pants today, casual. She was a woman of about thirty with average height and a particular and calming air that couldn't help but settle you. In those first few weeks; in the padded room, in the straightjacket, alone, I had felt like an insect under a magnifying glass sometimes. But I had never felt like that when Doctor Yamada spoke with me, she treated me with nothing but dignity. I had found myself imagining her in the same context as Mom, always accompanied by a warm smile and a lifted mood. No matter what kind of bad day it had been.

It hadn't been a bad day for a while now, I'd come a long way from the straightjacket. She had stopped wearing the reinforced protective danger suits and now we were sitting in the same room together, it felt… nice.

There had been things I wanted to ask her, ways I'd thought about going about this, but that had been yesterday, now I couldn't remember a thing. I just couldn't think of anything to say; and that was a guilty hole in the pit of my stomach because this was supposed to be a major milestone, something I'd been carefully working towards for weeks. Doctor Yamada had insisted I could do it, and Doctor Selmy had backed her up- and now it almost felt like I was backsliding.

"Taylor, are you feeling all right?"

Doctor Yamada's voice made me jump. She was looking right at me, smiling slightly. I'd been so distracted I hadn't even noticed when she'd looked up. She was gently concerned, and just slightly worried.

She cares about my progress and is worried my fears will be self-fulfilling; putting up a strong front, but means it more than she realizes.

"Yeah. I'm just… thinking."

Doctor Yamada leaned back a bit. "It is okay to be nervous, Taylor. This is a big step for you."

I tried to smile, but it came out a bit shaky, I think, "It's… I'm fine."

Doctor Yamada nodded. "Good." She tapped her clipboard with her pen, then set it aside. "It's a shame Geoffrey is out of town; I know he would have loved to be here to see you off."

Geoffrey, he was Doctor Selmy. He was pretty cool too. Stepping out of isolation for a trial run and mixing with the residents had been his idea, he had encouraged me to take charge, have a stake in my own therapy.

If Doctor Yamada was the nurse, helping me heal and forget that I had been hurt, then Doctor Selmy was the coach- helping push me to do better and take charge of my own life.

I chewed on my lip a moment, debating. "Here-" I handed her my journal, open to the most recent page.

Doctor Yamada took the notebook and carefully read what I'd written.

"Interesting." She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Are you asking me a question?"

I shrugged one shoulder and pulled my knees up to my chin. It was difficult to put into words, and I was kind of afraid of what she'd say. I'd told myself I was crazy. It sounded crazy.

Doctor Yamada read what I'd written, then handed my notebook back to me, "Taylor, it isn't uncommon for parahumans to have some kind of vision, or an out of body experience when they trigger. Most don't remember the details, though a very small percentage do retain a clear memory of the event." She gave me a significant look. "Most often, parahumans with Thinker powers, though there are exceptions."

I blinked back at her, "So…"

"I don't think we know enough powers to rule anything out. We do not understand powers, and what we don't understand is frightening. It is perfectly understandable to be apprehensive. But I do not think you were hallucinating, no."

I took a deep breath. That… meant a lot to me, to actually hear that from someone. To hear someone say I was not crazy for once. My eyes stung. Doctor Yamada offered me a box of tissues.

I accepted with a wet sniffle and I blew my nose.

"Thanks."

"Taylor, are you ready for this?" Doctor Yamada asked earnestly, "If you aren't ready to take this step, you can wait."

"Thanks."

No, that felt weak. I tried to imagine Mom there with me, cheering me on. Emma. Doctor Selmy.

To get the impossible, you have to make it want you back. I remembered, one of Doctor Selmy's favorite truisms. I straightened and looked her in the eye. "I'm ready. I can do this."

That got a smile. Doctor Yamada stood up. "I think we're done here, are you hungry?" I stood up and we both walked to the door. She opened it for me and we stepped out into the hall.

I could do this, deep breaths.

At the end of the hallway we entered the elevator kiosk and security checkpoint. A uniformed PRT trooper in riot gear took Doctor Yamada's pass- we turned left, into the medium security residences. The walls and ceiling were all painted in soothing cream tones and the floor tiled in black and white- a throwback to Alchemilla's history as a hospital for patients less dangerous than I was. Relaxation benches that lined the halls sporadically, making the hallways a little less empty in the absence of framed pictures or windows. I did not miss the security cameras tucked unobtrusively into corners.

I loosened my control and let the voices in, just a little. The nudge filling in cones of line-of-sight for the cameras, like spotlights in a thick fog.

It was not a switch; nothing was turned on or off. It was a bit like being in a noisy room- tuning out all the other voices, all the other people talking. And using my power was paying attention to them and trying to pick out that one conversation I wanted to listen to. And sometimes the conversations were in languages I did not understand right away.

Dr. Yamada and Doctor Selmy wanted me to aim higher, to try for active control, and not just that but control in a social environment with a few controlled stressors. Hence, leaving my room under guard, but not in restraints, and eating in the cafeteria with other patients.

I desperately hoped this was not a bad idea. I could feel my palms prickling. Over the course of the month, after Doctor Galand had raised the possibility of eating in the cafeteria, I had anticipated this- looked forward to it, even. But now that I was here, I did not know what to do. I had built a routine, one that worked, one that was safe- one that left me firmly in control of myself and felt something approaching normal now.

The Pa chimed overhead.

"Attention Doctor Resch, please report to Doctor Young's office at your earliest convinience."

At the end of the hallway were the cafeteria and another security booth, Doctor Yamada showed the officer on duty her pass, and then turned to me.

Playful.

"Last chance to back out."

I smiled back, I felt… determined… to try, at least.

"I can do this."

She gave me a reassuring pat on my shoulder, and stepped back. "Enjoy your lunch; one of the residents has volunteered to show you around, I'll introduce you afterwards."

This next bit was something I would need to do by myself.

The cafeteria itself was strangely… mundane. I don't know what I expected, actually. The kitchen and food line had a glass divider separating the cafeteria servers from the line of patients. I joined the line, shuffling along with them and kept my head down. The tray I picked up was made of something light and pliable, like Styrofoam, probably so it could not be used as a weapon.

I received a hunk of garlic bread.

"Move along."

The cafeteria cook dispensed a scoop of what was probably canned spaghetti on my tray.

"Move along."

I slid my tray to the end of the line and collected it, took one step away from the line, and immediately felt lost.

The cafeteria color scheme was hospital-soothing white and blue. I was faced with four long tables with benches, with a total of ten patients in blue seated with trays. Three staff in green scrubs moved between them, talking to them quietly. I could see one at the back talking to a girl. She stood out because she was not wearing blue. Her jumpsuit was bright warning orange, and seeing that made my pulse quicken.

I thumbed my own by the waistband, also orange, and felt myself shrink in on myself a little. I glanced up.

There was also armed security patrolling on the gantries above the cafeteria floor- at least two that I could see without turning my head. I averted my eyes and tried not to look.

A man on the front row stared across the table, rocking slightly whenever his attention wandered, occasionally and fretfully poking at his food. I skipped over him. Another, a woman, ate while quietly conversing with another patient, and served as perch to a vast blue eagle. Or falcon? I didn't know. Whatever it was it looked positively lethal, and huge, it probably had a wingspan of more than ten feet. It snapped its beak lightly at her conversation partner twice while I watched.

Every table edge was gently rounded and padded to prevent injury, probably in case someone fell because medication made them dizzy and split their head open on a corner. Or fell because they were pushed or shoved, or because they picked a fight with some telekinetic. Or something.

I swallowed.

Someone elbowed me sharply, growling under their breath, and I stumbled another step. It was a large, heavy woman with frizzy brown hair and a thunderous scowl. She didn't give me a second look as she shouldered past with her tray.

"Hey." I protested feebly.

A corner of my mind noted she limped heavily with every step on her left heel. My power supplied the cause: an old break imperfectly set and complicated by her weight. It affected her balance. An angle was supplied; a shove just so behind her left kidney, just so, would send her sprawling on her face with hardly any effort at all.

I clamped down on that, hard. And then I swallowed even more nervously and loosened my filter.

Controlling it, guiding it, without letting it guide me. I tried to channel Dr. Yamada, and it only kind-of worked. I focused on the woman, and asked 'who is she'?

Her skin was very, very pale. My power latched on and expanded- following the thread.

Her skin was very, very pale. She had not seen sunlight in a long time. Years. She had been in the hospital a long time, decades maybe. She had been institutionalized even before she got powers.

Her trigger had made what she had before worse.

And what she had before- there it became less clear- the impressions got confusing and I couldn't interpret what I was being told. My head hurt.

I blinked and pulled back, tuning out the voice. And thus I was paying attention and saw what happened next. A girl darted out and tagged the huge woman on the shoulder. The touch was light- only a slap, but there was an exaggerated effect from the blow, and the big woman stumbled.

The girl laughed and darted along the table. By the time the bigger woman swung around, she was already reseated. The woman huffed angrily and looked for the perpetrator, but no-one volunteered her.

The woman turned away, muttering darkly- regular occurrence, I guessed immediately. I wanted to feel sorry for the woman; it seemed the right thing to do. But, she wasn't making it easy to sympathize with her.

I glanced across the cafeteria again.

One step at a time. I didn't need to jump into the deep end of the pool right away, right? Right? Right.

There was an empty space along the back wall; the last bench was almost unoccupied. Except the other person sitting there was the girl wearing orange. After a moment of hesitation I steered myself towards it, I threaded my way down the aisle, towards the back, head down not looking at anybody. There was someone whimpering and muttering under their breath nearby, but I didn't look to see who it was. I sat down in the corner, then stared at my tray and tried to think of a way to eat without a fork.

"Please- I- I just…" I lifted my head to see. It was the girl in the orange. She had her legs drawn up under herself, hugging her knees. The orderly knelt, talking quietly to her on the other end of the bench. I looked away quickly.

"Burnscar," the orderly said, "You know visiting hours, and you've used all of yours this week."

"I… I just. Can you ask the Doctor?"

It was a little strange- Burnscar was the one cringing and hugging her legs, but looking at them I got the impression it was the orderly who was frightened. He was crouching a few feet from her, almost out of arm's reach. "I can ask Doctor Werneck, he's the floor Doctor today, but you need to wait until the lunch period is over."

Burnscar nodded, fretfully pressing her face into her knees as the orderly stood and walked away.

I went back to my lunch and tried not to look at her. I only had my hands to work with, no forks. I pinched a mouthful of spaghetti and stuffed it in my mouth.

Burnscar.

I hadn't had much of a chance to read up on any current patients, or well-known parahuman cases. The name didn't sound familiar though. I'd need to look her up. I remembered seeing a computer lab or something in my orientation pamphlet, I hoped I got a chance to look at that.

I risked a glance at Burnscar.

She had a tray, but it was empty, and pushed away from her so she could rest her arms on the table and her head on top of them. Her shoulders hitched in a motion that looked suspiciously like crying. That… struck a chord in me.

Her hair was black, and cropped short. She might have been a few years older than me, in her early twenties, but she looked very thin. Not beanpole-skinny like me, just… thin, like she needed to eat a bit more. My eyes were drawn to her arms. There were 'ladders', cuts trailing up her arms.

Not recent, they were old scars

That gave me pause. I remembered what my first day had been like, crying into my hand because I was so scared I didn't want anyone to hear, not even the Doctors. Doctors I knew were listening, through the microphones in the walls. Trying to keep my eyes close all the time and not touch anything because I didn't want to feel it in my head, and I couldn't control it.

I blinked, and then I felt a sliver of steel. Maybe it was my conversations with Doctor Yamada, but I picked up my tray and slid down the bench.

What I was doing was probably something very, very stupid. Anyone called 'Burnscar' was probably not a hero. But nobody was a hero here and I knew how it felt to be alone. "H-hey."

She reacted dramatically to my voice, head jerking up to stare at me. I was right, she had been crying, her cheeks were red, and down each ran a tear track of neat, round burns. She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand.

"I… um, are you new here too?" I asked, then stuck out my hand.

"No… I've been here a while." She said, and stared at me with watery eyes. I let my hand drop limply.

"Oh." I floundered, "How long?"

"Four years." She said.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. What was I supposed to say? 'What are you in for'?

Burnscar. I wracked my brain trying to place the name the orderly had used, Burnscar did not sound familiar.

Her face fell at my hesitation, she looked away, back into her knees.

"Are…" I stopped, "Have you been an orange patient the whole time?"

Burnscar's face jerked up again, "Nobody ever stops being an orange. I mean, most. Usually they put you in isolation, if you're dangerous." She stared at her knees morosely. I got the impression she was in and out of isolation a lot. "I tried so hard. It's never enough. Nobody ever gets out of orange. Not unless they're heroes, really big names. Sometimes not even then."

The silence stretched on.

Nobody was here for a good reason; I did not want to know if she had killed anyone, or how crazy she was. It… it wasn't something I liked to think about either. I did not want to ask why.

'Hi, I'm crazy too'? I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and then had to do it again because my mouth was too dry and it felt like my whole throat was a desert too.

"What were you talking to the orderly about?"

She flinched away, somehow she tried to shrink even smaller in her seat, rubbing her arms like she was cold, looking at the floor. "I wanted to visit Elle."

"Elle?"

"My friend, the Doctors call her Labyrinth."

"Oh." That was another name that rang no bells. Maybe they both got sent here before they did anything? I'd heard that many of the patients were not dangerous as much as they were uncontrolled. But she was wearing orange, and patients given an Orange designation were actual physical threats at least some of the time, or under specific conditions. Also, the orderly called her Burnscar.

"I… I just…" she mumbled, "I need to talk to her. I- I hate it here and I can't think straight. Because of the pills. I just need to talk to her and they won't let me!" she raised her voice, "I hate it here. I hate it so much!" She slammed her hands on the table. Her eyes flared with an orange glow.

There was shuffling as the cafeteria moved to give us more space.

Security personal were moving on the catwalks in the corner of my eye. That niggling sensation was back, my palms were prickling and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I could feel my power working- whispering, and I let it.

Dangerous, an orange patient. They designated her Burnscar, something to do with fire? A pyrokinetic. There was more, something to do with emotion. Or… movement?

The orderly that had talked to her stepped forward and tried calming her down. A big black man with pleasant features and broad shoulders.

"Burnscar-"

"That's not my name!" She snapped.

She was up and pacing now. Her eyes glowing orange in flashes, she was crying and shouting in turns.

"I understand- miss, please, calm down." He moved slowly, calmly like he was trying not to startle her. His voice was soft; the tone was the kind you might use when talking to an injured animal- soothing, level, placating. Sweat beaded lightly on his forehead and my voice was screaming that she was dangerous now.

The security personnel were moving overhead, more of them, I could hear one talking over a radio. I experienced a moment of clarity, I knew what was going to happen, there was some kind of peak coming. Burnscar was growing more and more agitated by the moment- gesturing and shivering and rubbing her arms.

I realized at that moment that unless I acted immediately Burnscar was going to end up doing something regrettable. Somebody was going to get hurt. Probably the orderly, maybe Burnscar. Maybe someone else- me, I was pretty close to her.

The stream of data continued: Emotions, her power did something to her emotions, building to peaks and lows. It drove her to using them and rewarded her by releasing the pressure. She was in a negative spiral. Chemical changes, emotional highs and lows, followed by deadening of all emotions, and an addictive compulsion to seek the reward.

Derail the spiral. Distract her and diffuse her.

"What's your name?"

She whipped around and looked at me.

"…Mimi." She looked a little stunned.

"I'm Taylor," I said.

I immediately regretted it. Was she a villain? But, no, she'd told me her name first. She could have been lying, but, no, the impression surfaced that she was being truthful.

It was hard to adjust my expectations to the idea that it was different in here. I had grown up with the idea that heroes and villains looked different, sounded different, acted different. Every kid thinks about what they'd do if they got powers. But here it was… not what I had expected when I had imagined becoming a parahuman.

Doctor Yamada always addressed me by my name, once she knew I preferred it, and I liked that about her. I wondered if anyone here addressed Mimi by her name in those four years. One of the doctors had to have... right?

"Are you hungry?" I asked, "You didn't have anything on your tray." I gestured loosely to it, where it lay abandoned and empty in front of her.

"I- no." Mimi blinked again, "I wasn't hungry," She mumbled, and frowned a little. Like she was trying to figure out where this was going. Her eyes were not glowing, at least.

I picked it up, and it was like the whole cafeteria was holding its breath. "Well, even if I'm not hungry I know I feel better if I eat something. Come on." I took one step forward and grabbed her elbow, and tugged her towards the cafeteria counter. I glanced at the orderly out of the corner of my eye as we passed, he looked about as stunned as Mimi. Maybe more.

Mimi remained silent as I tugged her through the cafeteria line. We were the only ones in line now and I was not surprised. The cafeteria was… not silent, but very quiet. When I sat her down again she had the same limp green beans, canned spaghetti, and garlic bread I did.

After I sat her down with it, though… Mimi stared at the tray like she didn't know what to do with it. Instead of prodding her, I grabbed my tray and tried scooping some more spaghetti up with my hands. It was pretty messy, using the bread helped a little. After a minute she began to do the same.

I tried not to think about where I would be in four years. It frightened me too much. Instead, I finished my tray, and there didn't seem to be anything else to do.

"Thank you." Mimi blurted, as I picked it up. She couldn't meet my eyes, but I think I understood.

I tried to give her a smile, but I think it came across a little tired. The meds made me drowsy. "No problem."

Mimi looked up, and I wondered if it had meant more to her than I had thought. Her eyes were glassy and moist.

"You going to be okay? I need to go."

She jerked her head in a quick nod.

I left my tray at the drop off counter and headed back to the nurse station. Doctor Yamada had explained that one of the patients was going to be giving me a tour of the common rooms after lunch.

Now…

I was actually looking forward to it. Eating with Mimi had reminded me that I wasn't the only one here with problems. I felt a little less alone and lost.

The PA chimed overhead. Cheery.

"Alchemilla is one of New England's oldest and most prominent medical and psychiatric establishments. Dedicated to improving mental health since its inception in 1914 by Doctor Charles McNider."

"Today Alchemilla is proud to operate as New England's premiere rehabilitation center, research facility, and parahuman specialty clinic. Alchemilla has a long and storied history as-"

There was a mixture of orange and blue in the hallway, in Blue Ward, Block B, Alchemilla Memorial Asylum.

175

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.2

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#4

Cygnet 1.2

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 2 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 2: Cygnet 1-2, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The cafeteria adjoined a small common room, dominated by a collection of well-worn, saggy couches and easy chairs facing a television- a foosball table in the corner, and a pair of old vending machines. There were chairs arrayed around two small tables, and a single small skylight that recessed so far into the ceiling that almost no natural light actually made it to the floor. A small bookcase with a collection of extremely dated magazines and very dog-eared books stood lonely and neglected in the far corner.

This was the sunroom.

A short, potbellied man in orange sacked out and snoring on one of the couches. A little girl in blue with wild blond hair… sat on the ceiling beside the skylight, idly kicking her legs in the air. I blinked owlishly at her a moment and looked away. I sat down looking out at the cafeteria as the residents filtered out, experimenting with touches of my power. I wasn't familiar with any of them, so it didn't give me much. Mimi left with one of the orderlies, darting me a furtive glance as she did so. She waved a little and I gave her a smile.

I was supposed to meet a patient, Sadboy. Doctor Yamada had said he had a different meal schedule, he would be coming back from one of the workshops after lunch ended. I had the impression this was an exercise intended to get me to reach out to the other residents. I didn't see him. I didn't know how to feel about that- I had a group therapy session scheduled later and didn't know how to find it. Maybe it was a scheduling error?

I fretted, turning that thought over. Then I saw him, and he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Sadboy was one of those stringy boys, the kind stretched out by adolescence; still gawky, all elbows and knees. His hair was cropped very short, and he looked tired. There was no way to put it politely. He looked tired, had faint bags under his eyes, and his skin had that unhealthy pallor that accompanied exhaustion.

I considered offering my hand, but my experience with Mimi had made me hesitant.

"Hey."

He gave be a hesitant, shy smile, "Sadboy?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Um. Auspice, right?"

I cringed. I hadn't picked the name, and it had been another jarring shock following my hospitalization and my… escape attempt. Every kid that imagines what it would be like to be a superhero likes to imagine a cool, imposing, and suitably noble cape name for themselves.

I must have shown my disappointment more severely than I'd thought. "Oh." He looked horrified, "Did you want me to call you something else?"

"No, no, it's fine."

He relaxed a little.

I'd heard from Doctor Yamada that codenames were important. One of the first things we had discussed was what I wanted her to call me. My name, or the cape name I'd been issued, or something else.

She'd also asked if I wanted to call her Jessica, but it felt strange to call my Doctor by her first name.

"Is it a big deal?"

Sadboy fidgeted, "Sometimes. Uh, some guys are really sensitive about that kind of thing, because they don't have a lot of control over their lives here. What they're called is a big deal. Cape names are one of the things the Doctors have to respect."

"And we have some control of our codenames?"

"Yeah. Some."

I hmmed at that. "So… why Sadboy?"

He shrugged, eyes dropping, "It wasn't taken… I wasn't in a good headspace. Changing it just seemed dumb."

Oh.

I tried to smile, "Okay. Well, I know someone is going to start calling me 'spicy' eventually, and I'd like to put that off as long as possible. So, call me Taylor."

Sadboy's eye widened and he spoke slowly, "You need to be careful with your real name. We're given cape names for a reason. Some of the patients used to be villains."

I thought, if Mimi was a villain, I think I could live with that. Sadboy… I touched on my power for a moment to confirm a suspicion. He had… some kind of Thinker power?

If I had to make a guess, Sadboy was either a rogue, or he had been institutionalized shortly after gaining his powers- before he could make the jump to either hero or villain. That was odd; Yamada had said he had been a resident longer than I had…

Unless this was about helping him out of his shell just as much as getting me adjusted. Hmm. That was disconcerting. I… I did not like the idea of being trusted with something like that. I'd never done anything good with my powers. Not really.

That might be getting into too many layers. I shook the thought away.

"Well, what are we doing first?" I asked, attempting to get the orientation back on track.

"Um, well, You've already seen the cafeteria, and this is the sunroom. If you ever need some time to yourself it's always quiet in here, and it's never really, uh, crowded." Sadboy said, "There is a recreation center and a computer lab. I'll show you were they are…"

"Hey!"

I flinched, and turned so quickly my neck twinged. It was the girl from before- the one who almost knocked the overweight woman over. Her head-turning shout was followed by a single startling, flying leap that crossed half the cafeteria- bouncing a little in the landing. She rocked back on the balls of her feet -and leaned over way, way into my personal space.

She had brown hair, naturally curly and pulled up in a ponytail that hung around her head like a halo and made her head look a little like a bobble on her narrow shoulders. Two wide, energetic brown eyes and an eager, energetic and heavily freckled face. Everything was moving. She twitched like she couldn't sit still and had a habit of wiggling in place over stationary feet.

She was wearing blue at least.

"Um." I said, leaning back, trying to reclaim some personal space.

"You're new, right?" the girl repeated loudly, "You are new, right?"

"Uh. Yes?" I managed, trying to back up. She followed me.

"Yeah, you'd have to be, talking to Burnscar. I mean, seriously, she's called Burnscar for a reason, you know. She's killed, like, twenty people. More people than Fusillade and Gator- and they were actual villains, you know? Gator almost went to the Cage. I guess you could have a really badass power or something. Are you invincible? Hey, what's your power?"

She stopped talking and stared at me expectantly.

"Um." I blinked, "I'm a Thinker."

She made a face, and leaned back, and I breathed a bit easier. It made me feel a bit less crowded. "Seriously? That's it? What do you do?"

"It's like… a localized… clairvoyance? Sort of?" I hesitated. Doctor Yamada hadn't told me to talk about me power- but she hadn't told me not to either. "It's a bunch of little things, and they're all sort of… tied to how close I am to something."

Heather frowned. "Oh, so you were safe because you were standing right next to her?"

"Not exactly."

She shrugged, "Kitchen sink cape? Whatever." She fidgeted, kind of… shimmied in place

"Oh. Hey, I'm Heather. The Doctors call me Glassboom."

"Uh… Taylor." I squeaked.

"Uh, hi…" Sadboy stammered, "H-hi Heather."

Oh. Oh my. That was adorable. His entire face was blushing, his ears too, and he kind of did this thing where he scuffed his feet.

"Oh. Hey Nick." Heather said, flippantly.

I guessed that not everyone was big on the cape names here. Sadboy- Nick wilted a little bit. That felt familiar, I guessed that he had been in love with the idea of being a cape. I could understand that. I wondered if I talked about capes like that before I triggered, if that was how I'd sounded.

Sometimes Emma and I'd told each other elaborate stories of what we'd do if we ever got powers. That all seemed so far away now. I'd wanted to be Alexandria; I'd imagined what it might be like to fly around righting wrongs, beautiful and strong and fearless.

"Nick's going to show me around." I said.

"Oh, sweet, getting the tour, right?" She glanced at Nick, "You're showing her around, right?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"I'll come with." Heather decided. No one else had say in the matter.

We headed for the hallway, Nick leading the way and heather bouncing… literally. She was jumping up and landing on her heels, and actually bouncing. "Hey, what's your power?"

Heather grinned, and kicked off the floor, bouncing in place like some kind of superball person almost up to the ceiling. I expected the floor to dent, she wasn't built heavy or anything but it felt like there was real force behind those impacts. Which was weird, because it didn't look like there was real force behind those impacts.

"Isn't it the best?"

"Uh, wow." I smiled nervously, it was a little unsettling how casually she did that. Was she allowed to just do that? Wasn't that dangerous?

"Yup!" She bounced again, on the floor, "Kinetic reflection."

A lightbulb went on in my head. When force is exerted, it goes two ways, equal and opposite. Hit something and you experience a counterforce. Newton's law. If that force was reflected, or she was immune to it, that was an awesome Breaker ability.

"It is, right? I can jump tall buildings in a single bound and shit. It's awesome!"

I could tell without even looking that Nick seemed to think so. "Where are we going first?" I asked, in an attempt to restart his train of thought.

"Oh." He said, "Uh, the Computer lab."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Thinker denoted any power that dealt with sensory or cognitive abilities. Anything that meant you knew things that you could not in a mundane way. That was cool, I guess. It didn't make me Alexandria, but it was mine, it was special.

I could get better, then I would be a hero, using my powers to help everyone. Make a difference.

Nick… had something to do with emotions, or maybe one emotion, singular. If I was right, it was a lot more offensively-oriented than mine. He had a nervous tick- of flinching when he looked at people. Perceptually-based, I think, and I don't think he could turn it off.

It was interesting to watch him interact with Heather, I studied both of them on the way down, mostly just watching, using my power to tease out more.

"You've both been here for a while, right?"

"Yeah, about a year. Heather said.

"Uh, about that long for me too."

"Were you heroes?"

"I was," Heather said, "For a little while."

I hesitated. I wanted to ask the question, but it felt like it would be impolite to ask. Heather answered my question without my asking. "Up in New York. Drove director Armstrong up the wall. I had a couple, uh, incidents." Heather said, still smiling, but not talking as loudly as before, "And, I… uh, tried to body-check a bus. Almost died."

She shrugged, still smiling, still bouncing on the balls of her feet. I tried to return the smile, it ended up a bit strained. "And you, Nick?"

"Uh… no." He mumbled, "I, uh. I came right here… After."

Well. There was not much I could say to that, was there?

The computer lab was actually kind of impressive. There was a collection of computers- actually rather nice ones, each separated by booths. For the most part, it would not have been out of place in a school library or college campus. The room had a high ceiling and a nurse's station, and I suspected that the booths were reinforced in ways you wouldn't find on a college campus. The entire room was filled with the sound of computer fans.

There was a sizable placard on the wall noting usage rules and warning that computer privileges could be revoked for bad behavior or at staff discretion at any time. There was a pocket-size library tucked into one corner of the room with a pair of easy chairs, a small coffee table covered in gouges, and four shelves of books.

"Yeah. It's pretty restricted though." Heather said.

"Well, you can get on PHO. And youtube. Uh, that's pretty cool. And there's a video library. You can reserve a timeslot for one of the movie rooms to play them too." Nick said.

I swallowed, "I can email my mom?"

"Uh, yeah." Nick said.

Yeah, that was a plus. I'd be doing that later.

"Okay!" I pasted a fake smile on and tried for cheerful, but probably came off as creepy, "What's next?"

"Um, the exercise room."

This took us down the hallway, and through another security checkpoint. This one did not require a card check, but did have two men in armor and full-face helmets. We had to sign a register.

"Do you ever get used to the security?" I asked.

"What?" Heather asked, "Oh. Yeah, that's something you get used to. There are four checkpoints inside the wing, but you don't have to be ID'd unless there's a lockdown. You can go outside the wing, too, but that needs ID, and a day pass and sponsoring from senior staff." She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the guards, "You get the idea."

The gym had about a dozen running machines- treadmills, stationary bikes, step machines. A couple weight machines. Not much else. Free-weights were out, according to Nick, because they could be used as bludgeons. Apparently, this had been a problem in the past. There were four other patients present, each with a supervising staff member.

There was a big double door on the far wall, which Nick explained lead to a recreation court. It was usually outfitted for basketball, Heather explained. "Do they always have attendants for exercise periods?"

"Yeah." Heather said, "It's kind of annoying, and it limits how long you can work out, but at least we get to use the gym."

I blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we're all low security. Hence the trendy blue scrubs. It means we get to move around some." She pointed to mine, "There are a couple patients with orange that get low security clearance too, usually Tinkers, or Thinkers like you. Because they're less dangerous, or directly dangerous anyway. Or capes who have a dangerous power but aren't dangerous themselves. Or heroes."

We left the gym and moved back out into the hallway, one of the group rooms was our next destination- back towards the cafeteria and the patient rooms.

"And Mimi?"

"Burnscar gets to move around a lot, because that's the only way to keep her under control."

I frowned. "She doesn't like that name."

Heather shrugged, "Gator, Hellish, Wendigo, Lizard Prince, Victim… Burnscar. Some of us here have names you'd better remember. There are a couple too dangerous to lock up in high security or isolation."

"She was… nice." I felt obligated to defend her, she'd seemed really lonely, and she had been nice-ish.

But Heather just laughed. "Good for you, but… well. If Burnscar is in a down mood she just gets all mopey if you call her that, if she's in an up mood… well, he's lucky you were there. Most of the doctors only call her Burnscar when they need to get her to do something in a down mood."

Wait, what? I frowed.

"Anyway, she's up and about in a low-sec wing because she cooperates sometimes. If she didn't she'd be kept in special containment, down below."

"Down below?"

"Special containment, and high-security. There's more than just parahumans, too. A couple Jamestowners. Some people who are under lingering effects from powers that transformed them or altered their minds."

"What are Jamestowners?"

"Oh." Nick said. That was interesting, I didn't think that someone could actually turn green like that. Nick, I was discovering, was very open with his emotions. I hoped he wasn't sick right here. "Jamestowners are… I think he's a Tinker? He's a villain, a big name down south. Somewhere in the Florida, Georgia, Alabama area. Somewhere down there. I don't remember much. Jamestowner's got some kind of thing with radiation, turns people into these big monster-things. If you ever see a big green monster that looks like it's got tumors for biceps, run. They're cannibals."

"Yeah," Heather said. She wasn't green like Nick, but she looked unsettled all the same.

I was preoccupied with the idea that these things could apparently escape. Then another thought occurred, my heartrate increased. "Are there any… aliens?"

That got a reaction. They glanced at each other, then back at me. "You mean stuff from the craters?" Heather said.

What I meant was definitely 'stuff from the craters'.

Back before I was born, back in May of nineteen eighty-four, there was a huge meteor shower. Meteorites impacted all over the globe. Parahuman powers started showing up around that time. The nearest was a big one in north Michigan, bordering Lake Superior. It had hit along the shoreline, so it was flooded out, and the bottom of the crater was inaccessible. There were a couple like it, big ones, a couple in Russia. The biggest was almost ten miles wide. It was generally agreed that the meteor shower and powers had a connection, but nobody could agree what that was.

And it wasn't like nobody had tried, either. There were expeditions made to investigate the craters. Sometimes people came back, sometimes they came back and they were crazy or worse, sometimes they didn't come back at all. And sometimes… things wandered out. The Mississippi Crater had spawned the Machine Army, and the township of Freedom California was trapped in a dreamworld that was generally agreed to have originated in the Rocky Mountains Crater.

Some people thought that was where the Endbringers came from. It was definitely where a lot of them went. But I didn't voice that thought.

"I don't know." Nick said. His voice was very small.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The group room was one of a cluster of offices housed at the far end of the wing. Like the rest of Alchemilla, painted in inoffensive and enervating pastels.

Aside from that, it was surprisingly plain. Plain blue carpet and off-white walls. The room itself was very bare, with only a circle of steel folding chairs. It looked… more mundane than I had been expecting. There were no motivational posters on the walls, though there was a bare and unadorned black folding table in one corner.

There was only one other there, a girl in orange scrubs, with the palest complexion I had ever seen. If Mimi had been pale, this girl was porcelain. Her skin was bone-white and so thin I could see the blood vessels around her eyes and in her eyelids, like two black eyes- that had to be fairly severe albinism. She had long platinum blonde hair that reached to her knees and made me vaguely envious.

She sat with a perfectly straight back, and was absolutely, perfectly still. I had never imagined someone could sit so perfectly still. Staring straight ahead without any expression whatsoever.

It was intimidating.

But I remembered how surprised Mimi had been that someone had taken the time to even sit with her at lunch. Doctor Yamada had said that there were two ways to approach my stay: I could work to get better, and help those around me to do the same, or I could wait for things to get better. Only one of those options gave me control over my life. So, I lifted the filters in my mind and looked at her.

What I found was one of the strangest experiences in my life. The first thing provided was that she was not alive- or, many of the usual signs of life were absent. No heart, no blood. Her skin was pale, not because she had not seen proper sunlight in too long, but because it was not natural skin. It was a bizarre- the only descriptor that came to mind was 'polymer weave'. But that did not do it justice. Living tissue and some kind of ceramic or plastic seamlessly comingled. It made my head spin.

It was more than that too- she had once been human. Some of her still was, but now blended in a construction that was almost biological itself.

"-aylor?"

I blinked. Heather was waving a hand in front of my face.

"What?"

"You zoned out. It was creepy."

I blinked a second time. "Sorry. Um. Let's-" I gestured towards the seats, the ones beside the strange- was girl the right descriptor? I couldn't guess her age.

I caught sight of her hands, they were slightly oversized, segmented, like a porcelain doll's; the most obviously artificial feature I had seen.

It made me nervous, but I wondered…

I had never been good with people, especially new people. It'd earned me something of a reputation as Emma's silent shadow at school.

"Taylor, you can't sit by Charnel. And she's… not quite all there, you know?" she hedged nervously.

"Violent?" I asked, leery.

"Shank you soon as look at you! She's got claws and fangs and she can bench press a car. Plus, she can set you on fire with her brain and spit acid." Heather said earnestly.

I stared at her a few seconds, mouth open a little. A moment later she dissolved into giggles so energetic she nearly slithered off her seat, "Oh, your face! Hahah!" I huffed and tried to glare at her, but it was funny. Kind of.

I could have probably avoided gaping at her antics, though.

"I got you!" She chortled, halfway to the floor, "I got you good!" Heather sobered up, "But, seriously, she's one of the bad ones."

I scowled a bit harder, "She's right here."

"Yeah, but she's not all there, you know?" Heather grinned back.

I started to get a little bit mad at Heather, and opened my mouth to say something, when it occurred to me that she was here for a reason, and I had not asked what that reason was. My indignation on Charnel's behalf kind of deflated and I just felt pained for both of them.

Nick cleared his throat, "Uh, what Heather means is, Charnel is someone who is… a lot less stable."

Doctor Yamada had told me that the group I was being introduced to was one that was one of the safest, which I was beginning to suspect meant 'controllable', or maybe 'predictable', I think. So Charnel ought to be safe enough. Probably.

And, she was right there. What Heather and Nick had shared enforced the suspicion that Mimi was not unique. Maybe not even particularly uncommon. I knew what it was like to be alone in a crowd, and the idea struck uncomfortably close to heart.

Emma had always been the outgoing one, the one that took the lead talking to other people. But I was going to get better, I had to if I wanted to go home to Mom and Emma.

And so, without preamble, I sat down next to Charnel.

"H-hello."

Charnel turned her head and looked at me- her whole head turned, her eyes didn't move. And the rest of her remained perfectly still.

"Hello." I said again, a little louder. I hoped it didn't sound as nervous as I felt. I also hoped it was my imagination, how quiet it had become.

"…Hello." Charnel replied softly. She had a smooth, dry voice. I had almost expected something mechanical but it was melodious and warm, while her face remained immobile.

"My name's Taylor." I said, "What's your name?"

She stared at me, "I do not recognize you. You are new. I am sorry, but are you one of the therapists?"

"No."

"I would be most happy to speak with you." She said. "But I am not supposed to."

She did not look away. The silence stretched on long enough that it became awkward, and I wilted. Squirming under her stare, I squeaked, "U-um, why?"

"It distresses the doctors." She said.

"…Why?" She did seem a little eerie, but not particularly dangerous. Maybe she had been a villain, but that hardly explained the doctors telling her not to talk to the patients.

"I obey what I am told to do." She said, "And answer any questions asked me."

"Oh…" That, that explained some of it, I guessed. …Sorta? …Well, not really. "I'm sorry."

"I do not mind answering your questions." Charnel replied, with just a ghost of a smile.

"I am not a human. I am kept here to study. The doctors don't like it when I talk to the other patients." She smiled that small, secret smile again, and she repeated: "But I do not mind answering your questions."

Heather and Nick were still standing by the door, watching with rapt fascination. "Would you like to meet my friends?"

"I have met Glassboom and Sadboy."

"No, I mean, would you like to talk with them. Be friends with them. Have them talk with you and treat you like a person?" Why would she be kept for study anyway? I could imagine the Tinker implants being worth study, but why would she be here, in a group with other patients then?

"I am not a person."

I stared at her. She… couldn't actually believe that, could she?

"You are. We are. We're all people."

"Not people. Not one of us are people, here."

"What do you mean?"

"We are swords and knives. But, here: most of us are bent, or rusted. But we might be useful someday, so we are kept, on the chance we can be used." I frowned, but she finished the thought without arguing, "You will understand."

I didn't know what to say, "Are you… okay?"

Her eyes looked right through me. "I am. You will be too." She smiled, faintly.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Other patients arrived. The heavily built man who had been sleeping in the sunroom, and a bald teenager in blue- who was so thin I'd almost call it emaciated, and startlingly pale. So many of them were pale! He introduced himself enthusiastically as 'The Great Cidersong' gave me a wide smile and proposed we be friends.

I think he was seriously ill, but I wasn't sure- it might have had something to do with his power. I couldn't be sure because even though he shook my hand, he did so with enough energy and enthusiasm that he nearly dislocated my arm. He bounced around the room less literally than Heather did, talking animatedly with everyone, gesturing and waving his arms like windmills. Heather and Nick both knew him, and I was surprised when the previously morose Nick actually cracked a smile, and laughed at his antics.

I sat and watched, next to Charnel, and the heavyset man Cidersong had come in with. The guy in orange that'd been napping in the sunroom. He leaned back in his seat and just watched them. After a few minutes he turned to me, and gave me a wink. "Thanks for being a good sport with Benny."

I blinked. "Uh, sure?"

He grinned, big white teeth in a dark face, "Not likely to get a warm welcome beyond this," He grinned, "Welcome to Alchemilla."

146

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.3

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#5

Cygnet 1.3

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 3 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 3: Cygnet 1-3, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The door closed behind me and I breathed a heartfelt sigh. I was medicated up and locked in for the night without disaster. A victory.

But, standing in the center of the floor, my room felt emptier and smaller than I remembered it. The peace and quiet was welcome; but being out, being able to walk around and meet new people… I hadn't realized how lonely I had been.

Benny and Heather, with all their energy. Nick, shyly hanging onto Heather's every word- kind and helpful to me at all times. Charnel, silent unless I spoke to her, until Heather took her silence as a challenge and swung an arm about her shoulders too enthusiastically- they nearly toppled to the floor.

It seemed… so empty now, without them.

My cell was in the medium security wing. I would be transferred to new quarters tomorrow in the low security wing. In the meantime, I had a long night ahead of me.

There was a bed, but I wasn't going to be using it much. I headed for my desk in the corner. My computer was recessed into the wall behind thick shatterproof glass. The keyboard was affixed directly to the desk. There would be no moving it with only my hands to work with- which was annoying, but I couldn't complain. At least the screen was fairly wide.

I tapped the spacebar and waited for it to boot up.

There was a glowing digital clock set into the wall above the screen, behind another sheet of glass. It read nine seventeen. A bit less than eleven hours until breakfast to kill. It still felt unnatural with three months to adjust to it. The dots hadn't connected for almost a month, not after I'd shut down after the hospital. Closed off for days from everything and everyone. But there were a lot of hours in the day, more so now that I didn't need to sleep any more.

I logged in to my coursework and checked my grades. There was an educational program set up for the patients able to take classes. Having an extra eight hours a day meant I would be graduating from Highschool next year, if I could keep up this pace. Maybe earlier. I could also take college courses.

The program was… not very challenging. I didn't know if it was a facet of my power that sped things up, or if it was simply the short list of things I could actually do right now that helped me make progress the way I did. Or maybe not needing sleep and not getting drowsy had an effect on my ability to focus.

The constant quiet was unnerving, though.

Math. English. Social studies… Napoleon Bonaparte and his ego ravaged Europe and I read about it hundreds of years later.

Of course, not needing to sleep was not the same as not needing rest. The human body wasn't designed for it.

I felt my neck seizing and took a break, I still got tired. I didn't have any Brute powers bolstering my endurance. I hadn't gained super strength or a healing factor, and if I took weeks on wholesale without actual rest periods the little aches and pains would pile up. So I needed to make sure I spent an hour or so a day lying down and resting.

I did so, laying down on my bed and grabbing a book from its spot beside the pillow. Oliver Twist, and Dickens with dystopian perspective of nineteenth century London.

A chapter after 'please, sir, I want some more' there was a chime from the computer.

I glanced at the clock. Just past midnight. Sleeplessness and Alchemilla's long nights had given me a new appreciation of time. I only knew one patient that would try messaging me at this hour. She still needed to sleep, but she had frequent nightmares and kept odd hours.

The patient-access computers in the isolation wing had a self-contained electronic messaging system. It was intended primarily to allow certain patients that could not interact with the general population a healthy social outlet. Doctor Yamada had suggested it midway through my second week, and had even introduced me.

The camera window came up immediately, and Sveta's fretful expression filled it.

"Hey, Sveta."

She tried to smile, purple-red lips pulling back with a lot of hesitance. "Hi, T-Taylor, how was your first day out?"

I thought about that. How would I describe it? "I liked it." I said, because it felt wrong to say I didn't like it. Sveta was a parahuman- but unlike Mimi, Nick, and Heather, or even Carnal, she was profoundly mutated by her power to the point where she was almost unrecognizable as ever being human. Worse, her power was uncontrolled and indiscriminate, she was lethal to those around her. She could not leave isolation except under extremely controlled circumstances.

But, as I said it, I realized that it was true. I had actually, honestly, liked it.

"I did like it. Huh."

It had been thrilling, to meet Mimi, even with that close call. And, I think I had traveled through the nervousness and come out the other side by that point. Heather and Nick had been interesting and fun. And Carnal had been… strange. But, she'd been interesting to talk too.

"What was your group like?" Sveta asked. "Who did you have?"

Like a child asking about a faraway land she would never see, but that they wanted to know everything about. Everything.

"It was… a little weird, to be around so many people with powers. I grew up with the idea that capes are… above it. You know? They go out and stop crime or fight villains and that's all, I never thought about what their lives were like outside that."

The doctor in charge had been a nervous intern that my power assured me had less than a year of residency. He'd kept smiling this terrified smile.

In addition to Heather, Nick, Charnel, and myself, two others joined us. One was the woman with the bird familiar, who turned out to have once been a fairly famous independent hero from new Jersey named Falconer and who told me I could call her Lethe. The other was a burly man that I actually recognized, Fusor. He was from the Chicago branch of the Protectorate. He'd not featured prominently for years though.

I guess I knew why, now.

"It's weird, or... no, that's not the right way to put it." I leaned back, "Surreal maybe. It just doesn't seem very real." Like a dream, almost.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I talked to Sveta for about an hour. She was full of questions, and when they were exhausted she told me about her painting. One wall of her room was covered in a mural that she was steadily expanding, but I couldn't see it, since her camera was fixed to the wall, just like mine. I promised to ask Doctor Yamada or Doctor Selmy if I could see it.

Sveta was about the most normal person I had encountered at Alchemilla, ironic considering how she looked. Which just highlighted a theme- most patients were not here primarily, or certainly only, due to mental illness. Most has some element of their powers that made them inadvertently and generally dangerous to themselves or others. Mimi, for example, had an element of her powers that drove her to use them, and induced chemical changes in her brain to encourage that behavior until it grew dangerous and indiscriminate.

Sveta was worse.

Sveta's power transformed her into a mass of prehensile fibers, stronger than steel and more elastic than rubber bands. These fibers would attack anything that arrested her attention, independent of her will, unless she actively suppressed the effect, and sometimes even then.

Worse, while she slept they would move her- and hunt.

Doctor Yamada had been sparse on the details, citing Doctor-Patient confidentiality, but my power had hinted at a horrific death toll. It was amazing that she hadn't been sent to the Birdcage.

It was doubly tragic because she was so nice and polite, I'd even say shy.

But, unlike me, Sveta did need to sleep. She eventually signed off, and left me to my silent cell until I was called down for breakfast by one of the Doctors I didn't know well, Doctor Jenkins.

He was hard-eyed but not otherwise unpleasant, his brown hair was threaded with grey. His manner was a bit brusque but otherwise polite, and looked a little harassed; his coat was rumpled. I had met him only once before, when Doctor Yamada had explained my schedule for the first two days in medium security. I was surprised, I'd thought that Doctor Yamada would have been available. She had said her schedule was basically clear for the next week. Doctor Jenkins explained there had been an emergency in another block and she'd been needed on short notice.

I tried not to take it personally.

I had my one box, just a shoebox and some notebooks filled with scribbles and a set of colored pencils. I hadn't drawn much. I liked drawing, but an empty cell did not lend itself well to creativity. I was glad to leave it behind. I didn't have clothes or anything else to bring. Patients only wore scrubs and I hadn't been given much. Just my socks and slippers.

We retraced my path from the day before, passing by the cafeteria and instead entering the residential wing. The rooms looked identical from outside, all metal plates with small windows; identical six-inch squares of safety glass reinforced with black wire. Doctor Jenkins opened one and stepped in for a moment. There was a tiny, tiny placard above it, squinting I made out 108.

The room was a bed, and a small bedside shelf recessed into the wall… and what looked like a sink that was also a toilet, and nothing else. It was a little nicer looking than the one I had in isolation, but also smaller, and the walls were still padded. The absence of a computer was a little more jarring. That was probably a concession to patients in isolation.

But that was not… too important. I wouldn't be stuck in it all the time now. Still, I hoped there was some allowance to patients that didn't need sleep. Maybe I'd take up painting, like Sveta, that could be fun.

Doctor Jenkins closed the door, and gave me a card. If I locked myself out by accident, I would need to find a staff member to unlock it for me.

"If you lose it, report it to a staff member." He said, "The doors are automatically locked after curfew, but staff can unlock them. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

I was on rotation three, which was important because apparently there was a maximum number of patients allowed in the cafeteria at one time. If I missed a meal, I would need to let one of the staff know.

I wilted a little and wished Doctor Yamada had been available.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Breakfast immediately felt different when I arrived. The room was holding its breath, tensed and taunt. If it had been quiet at lunch yesterday, this was some kind of calm in the hurricane. It was obvious, even without my power.

I could feel the eyes on my back like a physical presence, tracking me as I moved down the line. I hesitated then relaxed my mental grip- and it felt like needles dragging over the back of my head, poised to jab at any moment. At least five steady watchers, but there was attention coming from all over the room. I was in a cold sweat before I reached the end of the line, there was a lot of attention on me. There were more guards on the catwalks above us too. What was going on?

I got my tray without seeing it, filled it in autopilot hardly aware of moving, all I could feel was the attention on me. My stomach started cramping with the tension and I clenched my fists and I tried to control my stomach.

I took deep breaths, tamping down of my power entirely. Deep breaths, I loosened my fists, and then pushed out with my power like I'd done with Mimi and raised my head.

I surveyed the room, and was disappointed when I didn't see anyone I recognized, which was disappointing and unnerving with that weight on me. There were a few empty places, and one table that was kind of packed, five patients together. That was where the constant pressure on the back of my head originated from.

Reading them was difficult, they were halfway across the room, and I'd never seen them before. My power worked better with things, people, situations I was closer to. I still didn't know all the rules.

I closed my eyes.

Why was I in danger? Was it because I'd talked to Mimi? Did she have enemies, someone who bore her a grudge? Was it a hazing ritual of some kind? I didn't know my power well enough, was it blaring so urgently because there was more than one of them, and the actual danger was minimal?

"Some of us here have names you'd better remember."

I walked to a seat as far from the five as I could. It wasn't very far- they were in the center of the room. I took a deep breath and opened the floodgates to their fullest.

There were eight guards on the catwalks, and two more at the doors. Plus, cameras, like spotlights in the corners of the room. There were sprinklers on the ceiling, and my power hinted they dispensed more than water or fire retardant.

I narrowed my focus to the five points of aggression, but it was no good, they were too far away. I turned slowly and looked over my shoulder.

They were a knot of two blue scrubs and three oranges. I had a quick second take. Two of them… no, one had gigantic, staring, lidless eyes. Another, a girl with bright red hair so thick I wanted to compare it to yarn, she had a what looked like a quilt of cloth and flesh squares for skin. Another of them, a girl, she had strange rubbery tendrils hanging from her head in place of hair.

Monster capes.

I blinked and touched on my power. They were the cause of the disturbance, but that was the most I could pull off them. The aggression directed at me was… unfocused, less malicious and more curious. I was new, and they were restless.

I… I just couldn't pick any more off of them from where I was.

I turned back to my food and took another deep breath. These five where out of place. Mimi had been out of place yesterday…had Mimi been a transfer from another meal schedule? She had been the only real danger yesterday. Where had these patients come from? What had changed today? What had happened?

By the time breakfast was over my stomach was cramping in earnest, but they hadn't moved. It was nerve-wracking. I had a session with Doctor Yamada scheduled after breakfast, I was supposed to meet her at her actual office this time, but now I wasn't sure if that was still going to happen.

I discarded my tray and hurried out the door. Nobody tried to stop me, but once outside I was at a loss. The section station was a flurry of frantic activity, with both stationed nurses working the phone and a large binder of what I guessed was some kind of procedure manual. I was definitely picking up urgency, just short of panic from them. I waited, feeling a little awkward, until one of them was free and I was directed to Doctor Yamada's office, a wooden door in the same block of offices that had housed my group meeting yesterday, next to several more. The placard read Jessica A. Yamada, PhD, LPCMH, LCPP, but knocking yielded no response.

There was a line of chairs arranged against the wall opposite the offices, I took one of these and watched the clock.

I… was not apprehensive about talking to Yamada. But I definitely had some lingering nerves, I think. Doctor Yamada had always been on time to all of our sessions before, it was unsettling that she hadn't shown up. That… thing at breakfast had been unnerving. I did not feel safe the way I had yesterday.

Overhead, the PA system gave a cheery chime.

"Attention staff. Code 3E in residential wing two. Repeat, code 3E in residential wing two. Be advised, faculty status has been elevated."

Hmm.

A couple security passed me wordlessly, moving at a brisk pace down the hallway. The feeling I pulled off them was wariness…this was connected to whatever had changed the atmosphere at breakfast.

It had happened again, and the staff where being redirected to deal with it. Not quite a crisis of some kind.

I waited. I had begun to wonder how long I would need to wait; I did not have an outline for the rest of the day. That was when I heard a squeak.

"Andrew!"

Someone blindsided me- there was no time to react. Arms wrapped around me, picked me up and twirled me around and, oh, fast; I felt like a ragdoll in the arms of an energetic two-year-old. "Andrew, Andrew, Andrew!" Someone was saying, "Oh, Andrew, I missed you so much!"

I must have been too preoccupied… What good was this power anyway?

The twirling stopped and I was set back on my feet. She wasn't a two-year-old; she was actually a curly-headed woman that looked about twenty-five, wearing blue scrubs. She was very baby-faced and dark, sporting a grin from ear to ear. She did not recognize my poleaxed expression for what it was, and was off spouting words a mile a minute.

"Andrew, where have you been? I've looked everywhere for you! Nobody would tell me where you went, they kept saying such strange things." She frowned a moment, then the smile was back, "But I got away, and of course I found you!" she hugged me again.

"I-"

The woman let go and took a step back, peering at me very closely, "Don't… don't you recognize me?" she asked, a little hesitantly.

"I- No, I don't. My name isn't Andrew."

"It is, it is!" She said, "Not again… Do- do you remember my name, at least?"

I, well. My power wasn't telling me she was dangerous, I had no idea what to do, "No."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Okay, okay. That's all right, you do that a lot, you'll remember, eventually!" She opened her eyes and smiled- a shallow, slightly vacant smile. Her eyes were unfocused, "My name is Yuliana… do you remember anything, does that help?" She started hesitantly patting my shoulder. She sounded like it was meant to reassure herself.

Her face crumpled miserably, "Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't." I said.

"I… I can help you remember."

I shook my head slowly. She was… I was not sure. My power was reading her as sincere. And harmless. I didn't think she'd get violent if I suggested we go somewhere, somewhere I could find a staff member for help.

"… Um. Let's go and… uh, sit down and… talk?"

"But we've got to go, before they catch me." She protested weakly and blinked without focus. I took her sleeve and led her back up the hall. The library was just around the corner, I steered her towards it. Maybe there would be some staff…

Inside, a man was pacing along the back wall, but the stations were empty.

"Hungry... hungry... so hungry. What? No. I'm not hungry. The worm is hungry. Hungry for me, for you, and for fire. Hungry."

I cleared my throat, "Hello?" Wasn't there supposed to be a nurse in here with the patients… or something?

"…Anyone?"

"Andrew?"

I glanced at the woman. She looked… confused. That vacant look was still there, but the focus she had before was gone. She wandered, looking from me to the mumbling man.

"Andrew. Andrew, I…" She blinked, "I don't understand."

Can't distinguish faces between individuals. Dementia.

I took a deep, deep breath.

"Why don't you sit down…" I didn't know her name. I guided her to a bench. Secretly, I was beginning to feel a little alarmed- truly, honestly alarmed. Where the hell was the staff?

(Along the back wall, the man kept pacing.

"The sun! It burns! Why does it burn? Why have we put the sun into a jar? And what did we do with that jar? We broke it all over our little world... And now the Worm eats the sun, tunneling, tunneling in the dirt."

The man's mad babbling continued as he paced the wall, from one end to the other and back with uneven steps, wringing his hands.)

I felt helpless, what was I supposed to do with her?

"Andrew, Andrew… I'm confused. The Doctor told me you were dead, the doctor said." The woman said tearfully. "But you're here aren't you?"

"Yuliana," I patted her hand comfortingly, only to recoil, burned. Her skin.

Parasitic leeching effect through contact- my power supplied. Host-body nutrients stripped from whoever she touches. Induces thinned blood- anemia -brittle bones, fatigue; receives a Brute-like recovery from injury and exhaustion.

I breathed deeply, I hadn't been paying attention. Of course she had powers, I hadn't been looking for what her power was, my power had picked it up, supplied it. But I was so used to tuning it that I hadn't recognized it for what it was until I touched her, and my power screamed the danger.

I couldn't afford to keep ignoring it like that. Another deep breath. All right, I needed to pay attention. Yuliana's power could cause permanent injury.

She was still blinking at me vaguely and expectantly.

"Yuliana," I tried again, patting her shoulder, the jumpsuit, this time. "We need to find a doctor. There's something wrong with… something wrong."

Yuliana started crying softly, "Do I have to go back in the hole?"

"The hole?"

"The… the hole." Yuliana said, "We fell in. It was so dark and I couldn't get out." She sniffled.

She was… lonely. Lonely, confused, unfocused.

Power encouraged confusing friend and foe. Has lived in a fugue state for years.

I glanced back at the babbling man, he was moving back in our direction, shuffling along the wall; wringing his hands and shaking his head.

"-Now the bad days have a way out, to make us remember they're still here! Forever here! Staining the parlor carpet, no matter the furniture we drag over it. Why does it want the tears and blood?" He said, "Never known but hurt, before the Worms. Drank of every life lived. Carrying all of us into eternity. Why does it have to last forever, forever?"

He deviated from his circuit, wobbling his way towards us, and my power began to prickle. Oh no.

He was… thin, his head was shorn very short, and his face was covered in thick stubble. He had a receding chin. The man did not look very dangerous, but that didn't mean much for a parahuman. He almost passed us when his head whipped around, staring wild-eyed and bloodshot and surprised, like he was seeing us for the first time. My power spiked as he opened his mouth and roared.

"Back! Not one step further! Not one! Come no closer! I'll blow us all to hell! All of us! Me, you, and you... and the Worm..." He raised his hands, glowing and sparking red.

Oh, damn it.

He was some kind of Blaster- hints at pressure and a Thinker power that helped him aim. And unlike Yuliana he was definitely violent.

"Beware, Worm, I shall destroy you with the fire of this small sun. I'll do it, I will! Beware, worm!"

I edged towards the door as he continued to shout, tugging Yuliana along behind me by her sleeve. No way was I leaving her alone with him.

"And they shall weep. Weep! Weep! Tears of salt and earth and dirt!"

The library door closed behind us, cutting him off.

"Okay."

The hall was quiet, but not deserted, two patients were having a conversation around the corner. "Come on Yuliana, we need to find someone who knows what's going on."

There were checkpoints, there were security at the cafeteria and a checkpoint on the way. There would be security. There had to be security. But the closest checkpoint was empty- just a locked gate and booth. I detoured back to the nursing station and found it reduced to a single man, who looked both frazzled and grimly determined to remain upbeat.

His nametag read 'Davis' and looked new.

"Um," I ventured, "I think this is Yuliana, and I think she's…"

The man was balancing a clipboard in one hand and a phone in the other, and when he looked over his entire face lit up, he definitely recognized Yuliana. "-hang on, just found one." He set the phone down and looked up, and flashed me a smile. "You, little lady, are a lifesaver."

"Ah." I glanced at Yuliana, who was squinting at the nurse, "I found her- she found me back in the offices. I think she's, um… a little confused."

"Yes, thank you. Thank you very much, miss. There was an accident this morning. The whole faculty is in an uproar. Some patients in specialized care slipped away in the mess. Could you please escort her to the Operations Center? It's further up towards the Cafeteria, it'll have a bunch of stressed security guards"

That… that wasn't my job. But I could tell he was desperate.

"Uh, I guess. Before I go, could… I was supposed to meet Doctor Yamada for a therapy session, is that canceled?"

Davis just shook his head, "I don't know if she'll have any sessions today."

So that was that.

I took Yuliana's sleeve and set out towards the recreation wing. About twenty yards further the hallway forked again. I drew on what I remembered of the layout- but I hadn't been paying attention yesterday as much as I wished. We passed security cams, I made a point of walking in front of them, in case it prompted security to intervene. I should have been using my power to map the halls!

Another branch, a T, with one branch I was fairly sure led to one of the residential blocks, the other ran back towards the cafeteria. I stopped at the crossing- my power pinging… familiarity- there was something headed our way, I could feel it, and had a general direction. I was fairly sure it was in front of us, the hall leading towards what I hoped was the Operations Center. It didn't feel like Nick or Heather, or Yamada. I was fairly certain there were more than two. A moment later the prickle of danger accompanied their approach.

"Yuliana," I said, "We're going to need to be quiet for a bit, okay?"

"I," she blinked a little unsteadily.

Seeing multiple people together disorients her.

There was a bench on hand, and I steered her to it, glad there was somewhere for us to sit while I concentrated on the impressions. It didn't feel like Nick or Heather… who else would it be? The prickle of danger accompanied their approach and increased as they drew nearer. I was fairly sure there were more than two.

"Come on." I pulled Yuliana down the fork. Maybe I could just let them pass us by. The prickling grew worse.

I heard footsteps and then I saw them, turning the corner and headed right towards us- for a moment they slowed, seeing us. Then they picked up the pace, five patients, three of them in orange. The five from the morning, at breakfast- the ones my power had flagged as dangerous, the girls with the hair and the man with the huge eyes. They were moving quickly, arms filled with plastic bags.

I thought about running, but that seemed unwise. They didn't have any particular reason to be interested in either of us, if I didn't do anything to attract their attention maybe they'd just leave us alone.

Then they drew even with us and slowed, tentacle girl stopped. But one of them- the man with the huge eyes -missed a step with their attention divided and bumped into her, and the cloth girl behind him bumped into him in turn. The bags they were carrying rattled, and some clinked.

A couple pill bottles fell to the floor and prompted round of muttered cursing as they untangled and picked up their loot.

Drugs?

The girl with the tendrils in place of hair caught my stare; her hair was… eye-catching- long flat things, dark purple- they hung to her waist, long and rubbery and they twitched. Her eyes narrowed, they were odd too, really weird with four-pointed pupils.

"Who're you looking at?" she demanded.

"Leave them, let's get out of here." That was the… cloth-girl? There were two others: the guy with gigantic, staring, lidless eyes… and no mouth or nose. A cat-man, with too many teeth and strange, flat, pebbly growths on his arms.

And the patchwork girl. Her mouth was a tear in the cloth.

Then someone pushed me, at knee height. That might have been the strangest of the lot, it was a little girl. But her wrists were attached to her hands with… ball sockets? Her hair was in perfect brown ringlets, like a fancy china doll. The texture of her face reminded me of Charnel- that same odd, artificial texture.

She stood in front of me, head level with my knees, glaring up at me.

"Staring with your jaw hanging open like a caveman. You are incredibly rude, and stupid."

"Um, sorry." I said. What else could I say?

"Can we go now?" That was the cat man with the weird arms. His arms were full of bags too, all of them, bags with pill bottles and alcohol.

The girl with the tentacles cocked her head, she'd seen me looking. Tentacle girl sniffed and gave me a shove, sending me bumping up against the wall and Yuliana, "I don't think she's sorry enough."

I blinked, adrenaline peaking. My eyes darted between them.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." Yuliana gave a dismayed shout when she shoved me again, hard.

I tried to stand and stumbled, sending me sprawling. My hands flew out as I fell, trying to stop me. I my head hit the bench on the way down. Stars danced behind my eyes as I tried to gather myself up.

Tentacle girl's bags hit the floor, and pill bottles and boxes spilled everywhere. I wasn't very familiar with them, and the drugs themselves locked away in their bottles made the hints of use and effect a vague blur. Those ones raised heart rate and produced a rush of endorphins- happy drugs. Those made you sleepy. There were tranquilizers and anti-psychotics, drugs for anxiety, anticonvulsants, antidepressants… I couldn't process them all, it was a vague mess.

A hand seized my hair and pulled my head back, dragging me away from the wall and into the center of the hallway. The girl with tentacle hair pulled me up into a kneeling position, and I looked up into a boy's face.

He was pale, maybe three or four years older than me- with longish black hair. He looked mostly normal, but his eyes were a strange, cat eyed, slit and yellow, watching. And my sense screamed danger.

The girls with the tentacles for hair giggled.

For a moment I was somewhere else.

The dumpster smelled of wet cardboard and alcohol. The asphalt glittered with broken glass. It was strange; I could swear I heard a clock ticking somewhere, and a bell tolling along with my racing heart. Metal in my hands-

I breathed, that wasn't now, but I was in danger. Visualize an outcome. What assets did I have? I couldn't leave Yuliana, I couldn't run. I could not, did not want, to hurt them or kill them.

But she was touching me.

My hair in her hands, her right hand in front of her left. She was left handed. I knew exactly how her weight was distributed, how her feet were spaced. How she would move if I leaned this way- how she would act if I pulled that way.

I stepped to my left, back and into her, upsetting her balance -and reached up, grabbed the wrist holding my hair. I pressed my thumbnail into the underside of her wrist as hard as I could, in to the long tendons attaching to larger muscles in her arm, she immediately let go with a squawk. She tried to re-capture me, reaching back with her left hand.

She was left handed. I guided her arm away from my hair, going right, dodging her first wild swipe. She kept trying to grab left and I kept going right. I turned, neatly sliding out of her grasp as I stood. I brought my elbow up under her arm, jabbing her ribs. She let out a grunt and stumbled back a step as I rose to my feet.

I was breathing heavily. Keeping control. But my danger sense wasn't prickling any more, even from the tentacle girl- who was rubbing her ribs with mild annoyance and nothing more.

Curiosity. They were bored, antsy, looking for something new, and I was new.

I rubbed my head with one hand, a bump was forming and I think the stickiness was a bit of blood, and there were four of them. Even without that doll-thing. Yuliana wouldn't be any good if I had to fight. She was sitting against the wall, rocking gently and muttering into her knees.

"Sorry about Inkling." The boy said, "It's how we do things here. Scoping out the fresh meat. Seeing where we stand." and… he smiled, "Welcome, to Alchemilla."

He was playing with me, used to being in control. I met his yellow-slitted eyes. Sociopath.

"Wow, don't you look scared. Want me to squirt her?" Tentacle Girl asked. She had only three teeth, weird teeth, big interlocked triangles. Two on the roof of her mouth, one in her jaw. It gave her an odd lisp.

"Nah, Ink, hang on." The boy across from me shifted from one foot to the other. "What do the head shrinks call you?"

"… Auspice."

"Oh, well. I apologize." he said. "I am Lizard Prince, and king of Alchemilla. These are Inkling," he nodded towards the girl with the tentacle hair "And these are Prowler, Frog, and Quilt." The cat man, the man with huge eyes, and the girl made of cloth. "And Marionette." He patted the short Doll-thing on the head.

I nodded slowly.

"I see you found one of the Chronic patients."

I glanced at Yuliana, "Chronic?"

"The ones that don't get better." He replied, "Actual crazies. They aren't considered for release. Too unstable."

"She talked Burnscar down from a blowup." Quilt replied, she was standing a little further back.

My power pinged that. Burnscar is a chronic patient too.

Quilt looked a little out of place. I had the impression she wasn't as comfortable with this- she didn't like direct confrontation the way the others did.

"Oh?" Lizard Prince looked delighted, "That sounds interesting, fascinating. I'm sure to keep an eye on you. You have the makings of a… troublemaker."

Lizard Prince gave me a nod, still smiling thinly, and turned. The rest of his gang fell in behind him as he walked off.

I didn't relax. I didn't breathe a sigh of relief, and waited until I started having difficulty tracking them with my power before leaning against the wall and bracing my hands on my knees to still their trembling as I came down from the adrenaline.

Okay. I was okay.

"I… I'm sorry." Yuliana muttered faintly.

I looked at her, my nerves were starting to feel frayed and a tension headache was coming on. But she blinked at me- still dazed, still confused. I didn't have it in me to be annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." She said.

I sighed, "Come on, Yuliana, let's go find someone who knows what to do with you."

144

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.4

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#6

Cygnet 1.4

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 4 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 4: Cygnet 1-4, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The Operations Center was a bigger Security Booth adjacent to the Cafeteria. And it did, indeed have a lot of stressed security guards. There were about six talking on radios. About an equal number of green scrubs hovered on the periphery. And three others. These ones were not in scrubs, and not in guard uniforms and plates.

Capes. I slowed a little. The closest one- a graceful, willowy woman -caught sight of us.

"Wick." Activity slowed, for just a moment, "All right everyone, this is good, but Victim and Lazyeye are still loose somewhere. Victim especially, I want her caught in the next twenty minutes' people."

She turned to one of the doctors, "Well, Doctor Foster?"

Doctor Foster emerged from the back of the booth, a man greying around the temples, with a bit of a paunch and a vest and tie. He stepped forward, holding out a hand, "Yuliana?"

I glanced at Yuliana, she was swaying gently, eyes glazed. Her gaze wandered across them, to me, and I tried to give her a reassuring smile. When I glanced back to Doctor Foster, he had put on Latex gloves, and took her hand gently. "Come along dear, did you eat breakfast yet? I guess you missed it in all of the excitement."

I watched them go. Two guards peeled off to follow Doctor Foster and Yuliana at a discreet distance.

I'd met Doctor Foster once before, when I'd just arrived at Alchemilla. He'd helped supervise testing my power. He was a prominent researcher in the field of parahuman psychology and powers. Still, something rubbed me the wrong way about him. I couldn't quite put my finger on-

"Hello."

I snapped back to the present.

The tall woman stepped out towards me. She was pale and fine-boned, carried herself like she was in charge and everyone ought to know it.

But she had a slight limp, and she had only one leg.

She wore a green costume, very practical with pads and a tactical vest, but the pants only covered one leg and the other was a slender, gleaming prosthetic well past the knee. Most of her face was covered with a half mask extending from under her collar up over her nose. He hair was very straight and black, and cropped ruler-straight at jaw length. Elegant and commanding.

"Auspice, right?"

I was instantly shy and felt about an inch tall. "Um, er, y-yes?"

"Thanks for finding Wick for us." She held out her right hand, "Summer Holiday."

"H-hello." I breathed. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh. I shook her hand- she had a strong grip. I tried to ignore the ping from my power before I let go.

… something to do with light and force and-

I was talking to an actual superheroine! I couldn't remember if I'd ever seen her action figure anywhere, and it wasn't like I was talking to Alexandria or Eidolon or Hero, but I was talking to an actual hero! I felt giddy!

Oh, Emma would be so jealous!

Emma would be…

Oh…

And just like that, the moment was ruined, spoilt. I deflated. Because Emma wasn't here. I suddenly felt so alone. My head ached were I'd hit it, and I didn't know a single person in the room.

Summer Holiday noticed my head too.

"How did this happen?" she asked, gently touching my jaw, and tilting my head to get a better look at the knot on my forehead.

"Um, there was… there were a couple people?" I ventured, "I was pushed?"

Summer Holiday glanced up at my face and gave me a look.

"Tell me about them."

"They had a lot of bags… um, I think there were prescriptions? I could hear pill bottles rattling."

"What did they look like, the people who had the bottles?"

"Some of them looked… They looked weird." I hesitated, I didn't think it would be polite to say 'Monster capes' outright. But I'd only seen it used online the one time, and didn't know what else to call them.

Summer nodded, "I think I know who you're talking about."

"Grudge, Moonsmile, can you find Prince and ask him to step in for a word? Marionette too, if they hit the dispensary she'd need to be involved." Summer tossed over her shoulder. There was a note in her voice I would definitely call sharp.

There was a man and a woman. The man had a black bodysuit with three yellow Xs across the forehead, a larger one on his chest, and fingerless gloves. The woman slight and small, with a runner's build, running tights, and an armored vest that looked like Tinkertech. The man nodded and they both ambled off.

Summer turned back to me and gave me a meaningful, appraising glance. She knew exactly what had happened, it wasn't the first time- hazing, or whatever it had actually been. Lizard Prince, Inkling, Frog, Prowler, Quilt, Marionette. They were behind the disruption, and I was beginning to suspect that it wasn't something harmless that they'd done. Not harmless at all.

I didn't know what I would need to do to get this kind of response, but Marionette was in actual trouble.

"Are you all right, Auspice?" Summer Holiday asked, "You look a little pale."

"Uh, y-yeah. It's just… Um, I'm talking to an actual hero." I tried to smile, I felt giddy and crestfallen in turns.

Summer's mask moved, I think she smiled. Or, she tried to. Her eyes were too sad to really sell it. "First time?"

Someone was screaming and it was so confusing and- blood was on my fingers. How had that happened- I hadn't meant to-

The smell of antiseptic and floor wax and copper.

"N-no." I whispered.

"Hey." Summer Holiday leaned in, hands on both my shoulders, "It's okay, kid, deep breaths."

I felt cold, I was shivering. I just wanted Mom and Emma, and Dad. And I wanted… I wanted… I was crying in front of a hero.

"Oh, kid." Summer sighed, "It's okay."

Summer Holiday gently led me back towards the security station and sat me down at one of the tables.

"You were scared, huh?"

I hadn't been- not when it happened. There hadn't been time to be afraid. But now, now I was shaking, I hadn't felt this unsafe since the blood, and the hospital. I'd cried myself into a stupor, unable to sleep, unable to stop the input as my power kept murmuring- voices in a crowd in my head, whispering things I didn't want to know.

Now? Now I was scared, and felt so small, and I didn't know anyone. One of the troopers slid a cup to me, and when I touched the cup-

Hot chocolate. He'd put a double packet in.

"T-thank… Thank you." I hiccupped.

The man was tall, freckled and dark haired. His nametag read 'D. Brown' and he gave me and Summer Holiday an awkward nod.

"Now, you're walking around, so I'm guessing that you'll live. Do we need to get that looked at?" She pointed, and I realized she meant my forehead.

I actually didn't know. But, this was a perfect opportunity to use my power for something actually useful. I pinged the cut on my head, rubbing one finger over the swelling.

Bruising, inflammation, superficial damage. Nonfatal.

"No, I'll be all right."

Summer nodded slowly. Right, I guess she'd know what my power was, she'd probably guessed I had used it. "I'm not surprised. Lizard has been a troublemaker since he got here. He was a villain- had a pled deal, insanity, when he got caught. Really sleazy plea deal." Summer explained, "He's been a thorn in my side ever since- and what's worse is he's roped some of the other patients in on it, and he's been getting bolder."

"We get cases like his every few years." She tapped her fingers on the table, "I wouldn't worry about Marionette, I'd be surprised if she gets less than three weeks in solitary. But if Lizard Prince goes bothering you again, you find me or security immediately, all right?"

"Yes ma'am."

She smiled under the mask. Yeah, you could definitely tell, it was the eyes.

I took a deep, steadying breath, "Do you know where Doctor Yamada is?

"Is she your therapist?" Summer asked.

I nodded, "I was supposed to have a session after breakfast."

Summer stood up, "She was down in the infirmary last I heard. I'd like to get that looked at anyway- come on, we'll find her."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

We headed out, Summer and I, and went up.

"There was a short-circuit, I think, downstairs." Summer said, "That's where we keep our indiscriminate patients."

"Indiscriminate?"

"Mostly uncontrolled powers- powers that don't have off switches." Summer replied. We turned a corner and reached a security checkpoint, the guard saluted. But instead of continuing on to the administrative section, she stepped to a door labeled 'Security Access'. The door that required a keycard, on the other side linoleum gave way to bare concrete. She kept walking briskly, her prosthetic marking brisk clinks every other step, I followed on her heels.

"You're not allowed in here without security escort, understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

The hallway was straight and uninterrupted, illuminated by lightbulbs housed in protective steel cages. Pipes and bundles of wires were strung up close to the ceiling. This was probably some kind of utility access. The air was cool and just slightly moist.

"Auspice?" Summer said in the silence.

"Yes ma'am?"

"I know this… it's probably not the kind of introduction you expected." Summer said, looking back at me, "Um… It's okay to be scared, you know?"

"Okay."

"Right." She nodded, "Just don't be afraid to be afraid. Doc Yamada is one of the best therapists we have, let her help."

We turned, kept moving, at the end of the hall Summer opened another door. We exited back out into a white-tiled hall and florescent lighting. This door was set beside another security checkpoint, this one with two guards in the booth. Summer passed through without a pause and I hesitated a moment before I followed her through the gate. The hall ended in a small foyer with a set of double doors and a line of benches. "Right. This is the infirmary. We still have three patients that can't be returned to their rooms. Had a couple close calls. Last I saw, Yamada was down here, let's see if she still is."

"She's all right, though?"

"Oh, of course. She's fine."

Summer pushed open the swinging doors, inside there was blue carpet and a small nursing desk. There was a woman in green scrubs at the desk- medium build with mousy brown hair gathered in a bun. She looked up as Summer strode across the lobby.

"Is Doctor Jessica Yamada still down here?"

The nurse blinked. "Oh, yes."

"Is she free?"

"She ought to be, in a moment. Room ten."

Summer nodded and turned down the left hand hallway, and I had to hurry to keep up. The doors passed, one on each side, nine of them before Summer stopped on a dime and rapped briskly on the door.

"Coming!" I heard from inside.

Summer nodded, "And that's her. I kind of need to talk to her too, you don't mind, right kid?"

I shook my head. Doctor Yamada was out a moment later.

She looked a little disheveled- a couple hairs had escaped the tight bun she always wore, waving with the motion of her head as she closed the door behind her. I thought I detected a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, and there was a stressed tightness in the corners of her eyes and her thinned lips. She carried a briefcase.

"Summer," she said, and then with surprise, "Taylor! What…"

"Found her in the middle of the mess," Summer said, "I needed to have a word and thought she'd need a quick talk with you, after."

"What- oh. Oh, of course. She frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Your appointment. Oh, Taylor, I apologize."

"Sure. I-I mean, it's okay." I stammered, distracted. My power was picking up a lot off her.

First and second fingers on her left hand bandaged lightly, the skin on the back of the same hand lacks all the fine hairs, singed off, her jacket and blouse were borrowed.

She wasn't in distress, and didn't give me a lot of tells to work with, but I suspected she had been in danger.

"Thank you, Taylor." Doctor Yamada smiled.

Summer nodded, "Just a moment, this'll be quick."

I sat on one of the chairs lining the hall as Summer and Yamada walked off a few yards, "What is this about, Summer?"

The hallway was empty, even with their voices lowered I could listen in.

"Lizard Prince… talked to her, but…"

I hesitated.

I didn't… I wasn't comfortable with eavesdropping on my therapist. I really, really wasn't comfortable eavesdropping on my therapist and a hero. But that niggling sense of unease was back, and my forehead throbbed. My filters peeled back and I pinged Summer and Yamada, mentally urging my power to tell me what they were saying.

Experiencing it was a little strange, like an echo, but it moved faster, filling in what I had missed and what was being said now at the same time.

It wasn't perfect, I still lost words, but the intent was what was important- filling in what was missing. Doctor Yamada was clearer, at first. I was more familiar to her and my power had more data to draw on, a model to work with; but even as I listened, Summer was growing clearer.

"Just warning you, Lizard Prince was probably involved in the breakout." Summer said, "Auspice ran into him and his clique. I talked to her, but… I believe they raided the dispensary, I don't know if they did anything more than."

Doctor Yamada gently massaged her forehead.

"My god, is she all right?"

"Yeah, she's a brave kid. I want to take her to Doctor Lafayette after you're done though, since we're here anyway."

Doctor Yamada nodded, "I don't have any objections."

"Thank you." Summer said, "I won't keep you any longer; go ahead, Doctor. I'll be talking to Chief Stevens if you need me."

I stopped leaning on my power- and felt a little guilty and foolish. And also strangely exhilarated, Summer Holiday thought I was brave. A real hero thought I was brave.

Both of them walked back to me where I sat, trying very hard to not look guilty. I think Summer might have guessed, though. Something in her smile…

"All right, she's all yours, Yamada. See you, Auspice. Stay chill, all right?" Summer said, and strode off down the hall, her prosthetic marching a brisk beat to mark her passing.

"Could you let the front desk know that I'll be using room seven?" Doctor Yamada said, watching her go, "Well then, Taylor, shall we?"

We commandeered one of the Infirmary rooms, and two of the chairs. After sitting Doctor Yamada fidgeted and pulled a sheaf of papers from her briefcase. A notepad. She was trying to organize her thoughts, I realized, "Taylor, before we begin, I'd like to apologize. That should have never happened. I… can think of a few worse ways to begin your integration to the patient population, but not many."

Meeting with my therapist in a hospital room hadn't been something I'd wanted to do today, but I could hardly complain. What would have been worse? I tried to imagine that. Maybe the hallways filled with smoke and fire and flooded with sewage from a broken mainline. I smiled, "It could have been worse." I agreed.

"It was pandemonium down here all morning. Did they manage to get you relocated in all that excitement, at least?" she asked.

All morning? "Oh. Yes. Um. Is there a way I could get a computer in my room? I forgot to ask Doctor Jenkins."

"I'll see what I can do. We don't let most patients, but your situation is a little different, so we might be able to make allowances."

I fidgeted, "Is that… does that happen a lot?"

"What happened this morning?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah."

Doctor Yamada sighed, "More often then I'd like…" She muttered, then took a deep breath, "Taylor, are you familiar with Baumann Parahuman Containment Center?"

"Um, I… y-yes."

Some parahumans were dangerous, even more than the rest. Uncontrollable. For some people, getting powers was a turning point in their lives. A new perspective. Then there were ones that had already gone bad, the ones that got worse. The Baumann Parahuman Containment Center was where they sent the worst of the worst, the ones that went too far but were too powerful to put down, the ones that a regular prison couldn't hold. The Birdcage was the most secure prison on earth, designed, built, and managed by the most powerful Tinker on earth. No one had ever escaped.

I had looked it up not long after… after the hospital.

"Alchemilla's faculty model was considered for use as an alternative, before Baumann was proposed," Doctor Yamada explained, "We have a lot of specialized containment facilities left over from that time. And we get some of the more dangerous, and uncontrollable patients as a result."

I nodded slowly, and Doctor Yamada smiled, "I understand that you've made some friends."

I didn't have many friends; besides Emma, I'd always been too shy; I shrugged.

"I've worked with Glassboom and Sadboy for some time, I'm glad you seem to have hit it off. But I was a little surprised you reached out to Burnscar." She said.

I didn't know if I'd call Heather, Nick, or Mimi friends- I hadn't even met Sveta in person. "Mimi." I muttered, and regretted it when Yamada's eyebrows rose, "She… uh… she doesn't like that name. Burnscar."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Yamada said, "I haven't worked with her before." She made a note on her pad, "She prefers Mimi?"

"Yeah." I frowned, "How did you know I talked to her?"

"The orderly working with her was very impressed," Doctor Yamada said.

"Was Mimi really going to burn him?" I asked.

Doctor Yamada was quiet for a moment, I could tell she was looking for a delicate way to phrase it, "Very likely." I stared at the floor and felt a little empty inside. She'd been nice, not mean, and she'd been so lonely.

"Taylor, his name is Wayland Lars, and you probably saved his life." Doctor Yamada said, "I want you to understand that." One life saved… four still taken. I think Doctor Yamada could sense my mood, we sat in silence for a while.

"Taylor?" she asked, "I know you haven't been ready to talk about it… But if you ever want to talk about what happened in Brockton General, I am here."

I shrank in on myself. But…

No. No, I couldn't put it off, or, I needed to not put it off now. I thought I'd be able to do it. Maybe. But if I lost my nerve now, I might not get it back.

"I woke up, after… after I killed… after that. I didn't know what happened and I- I was on painkillers, I think. Maybe. I woke up and all I wanted to do was to see Mom. There were wires and stuff stuck to me and I pulled them out, and a nurse came…"

I remembered his face, what he looked like, and remembered his name; Randel Daniels, though I hadn't found out until after.

He'd been young, twenty, I think. Black hair and a pleasant face. He was wearing blue scrubs with a funny Macroburst logo print. He was into capes too.

He'd been concerned and tried to get me to go back to me room, then he'd grabbed my shoulder. My power told me that he was trying to stop me. I-I just knew that I wanted to leave, and he was going to stop me. And then- and then I'd know he had his keys in his pocket, and I'd grabbed them and jabbed them at his eyes. And then he tried to cover his eyes, and I jabbed them into his throat.

"…I didn't realize what I'd done until- until- until there was blood everywhere. I'd just walked through the door, everyone was screaming. I…" Doctor Yamada had her arms around my shoulders, hugging me. I was crying, and I shaking.

"Shh, Taylor." She said, "Taylor. That was not your fault."

I took a hiccupping breath, "Hospital security showed up, and I hurt a couple, broke one's arm, until they called for heroes. I think Mom, Mom stopped me. If she- if she didn't…"

"Taylor, shh."

Doctor Yamada stayed with me like that until I got my breathing under control, rubbing my back in gentle circles. She wasn't Mom, and she wasn't Emma, but I felt better, I felt safe.

Doctor Yamada released me and looked me in the eye, "Taylor, I am proud of you."

I hiccupped, blinking through the tears, and Yamada offered me one of those little packs of wrapped tissues. "Taylor, do you understand me? I am very proud of you. That was difficult, and that was painful, but you did it anyway. That was very brave, you have made incredible progress."

I didn't trust my voice so I just nodded and blew my nose.

"You're doing wonderfully Taylor; I want you to understand that. Whatever else you take away from this meeting, I want you to understand that."

I took my glasses off and wiped them. I mustered a limp smile for her.

"… I think that's about all for today Taylor," Doctor Yamada gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "What do you say we stop by the nursing station and see if someone can take a look at your forehead?"

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Sessions with Doctor Yamada always left me feeling a little better, a little less like the world was eating away at my fingers and toes. And after the crying I'd done with Summer and Doctor Yamada I… I felt better. Lighter. Empty, but in a good way. I'd let the sad and fear out and felt cleaner for it.

Doctor Yamada walked me back to the residential wing herself. I asked about getting some time in the computer lab and she showed me how to sign on for a timeslot.

"Doc! Doc Yamada!"

That was Heather, with Nick trailing gamely in her wake.

"Hello, Glassboom." Doctor Yamada said.

"What happened this time?" Heather asked, grinning outrageously, "Who got out?"

She was vibrating with energy, bouncing on her feet; and it occurred to me that she wanted a fight. Maybe it was because she was a hero, and was used to that being an outlet for energy. I certainly didn't, all that crying had tired me out.

"A few patients in special containment, I really can't say more than that." Doctor Yamada said firmly, but also like she was sure someone would tell Heather anyway.

"Oh, you're no fun Doc Yam." Heather pouted.

Doctor Yamada gave me a pat on the shoulder, "I need to go, Taylor, keep them out of trouble?"

There was something in that. Something that pinged, Yamada was only half joking. I gave her a quizzical look, and she returned me a wink. Another pat and she turned, leaving me with Heather and Nick.

Hmm.

"So."

I met Heather's level gaze, "What?"

"Come on, you were outside the wing, you've gotta know something." She said, "I know you do."

We walked back toward the computer lab, and I evaded, "Do you know a patient called Lizard Prince?"

Heather narrowed her eyes. "Why? Was he involved?" She… wanted to fight him. She was looking for an excuse. Her ego was tied to her cape identity, and she looked for ways to test her power against others. In a way that included me, in teasing out information from me.

Nick was different, his power was deleterious, he hated to use it. "Lizard Prince?" Nick said, "He's an asshole."

Heather shrugged, "A bunch of the monster capes latched onto him."

Yeah… yeah I think he was involved." I hummed.

Heather grinned, and Nick just looked resigned, "How? How?"

"Stole some stuff."

Heather grinned, it was blinding, "Hell yes!" She vibrated in place, "He piss you off? We gonna fuck him up?"

I shook my head, "I'm just going to look him up."

Heather looked bewildered, "Look him up?" she glanced at Nick, then at the placard for the Computer Lab. "You're going to the library?"

Oh, I was going to look them up. I was going to look everyone up.

132

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.5

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#7

Cygnet 1.5

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 5 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 5: Cygnet 1-5, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I had a feeling Heather didn't use the computer lab for much, she made it as far as the door before she started complaining- bouncing on her feet and fidgeting- she was easily distracted.

We had the room to ourselves, which was a relief. I half expected to see the crazy guy from before- and just thinking like that sounded… hypocritical. But I was glad all the same. I waved to the nurse on duty at the corner desk. The room was staffed now, I immediately felt better seeing actual staff on duty.

I sat at one of the stations and logged in, and a prompt asked me if I wanted to customize my account. I decided to leave that off for now.

I checked for my classes first, all my files had transferred. I didn't have any current assignments; I'd finished them all last night.

"Do you guys have classes too?"

"I do," Nick mumbled, Heather blew her hair out of her face with a sour glower.

"Doctor Morgan keeps trying to get me to do some," she groused.

"It's free, you should try and get a degree or something."

But Heather just groaned.

I opened the browser, opened my e-mail and then…

Mom. Emma. I took a deep breath, I had an hour and a half to do this.

To: JoinedinDeluge@, LovelyGinger@

From: GestatingTeneral@

Subject: Mom and Emma

I swallowed and wiped my hands on my pants, they were sweating. Why was I so nervous all of a sudden?

'Dear Mom and Emma

Alchemilla is not what I expected.'

That was a little strange to say. I don't know what I had expected, but now that I'd had a chance to meet some of the other patients, I knew that it hadn't been anything close. This was not it. I thought about it a moment, then kept typing. It was true anyway.

'I'm out of observation, which means they don't think I'm dangerous anymore, I think.'

I deleted that part immediately, all parahumans were dangerous, right? And there was Doctor Yamada's veiled warning, and Summer Holiday's… I was out, but it was still dangerous. And they didn't need to know about any of that.

'The staff has been very kind and supportive, and I've made some friends'

'There are a lot of parahumans here, I never imagined there would be so many. I even got to meet a hero today. She was a Protectorate hero posted at Alchemilla, and not one of the patients. That's right, there are actual heroes here to keep us all safe.'

I couldn't name Summer Holiday. There were rules to email correspondence. The names and cape identities of all the patients were automatically censored, and Dragon had an AI dedicated to inspecting outgoing email.

'Doctor Selmy wants me to try really working on myself, wanted me to make myself a project I'm invested in. Getting out, getting better. Doctor Yamada wants me to keep making friends.'

I didn't think the doctors' names would be an issue… I'd only been told about parahuman etiquette. Hmm.

I got up and walked to the nurse desk at the back of the room to ask. On my way back I paused, there was a flurry of movement in the booths, a brief scuffle. Sure enough, Heather and Nick were back at their stations, and my email was still open. But the screensaver had not kicked in.

I waffled uncertainly for a moment. I really didn't appreciate them looking over my shoulder, even if I wasn't there at the time. And- and I didn't want to have a confrontation right now.

But… but Doctor Selmy wanted me to be brave. And I'd promised Emma I wouldn't let everyone walk all over me. And… if I just let this happen it'd happen again, right?

I sighed. And turned, opening my mouth, but Heather and Nick were already looking at me, and Heather covered her face in her hands.

"Not a word." Heather lowered her hands and glared at Nick.

Nick was unimpressed and unphased, which kind of surprised me, "I told you she'd know."

"Argh!" Heather threw her hands in the air.

"Now apologize." Nick prompted. And I had to blink because, wow, that was a change. Where was this coming from?

"Um," I said, "Why were you reading my letter?" I wished my voice was stronger.

Heather just shrugged one shoulder, and looked churlish. Nick was the one to say something, "Please don't hold it against her."

"Oh shut up, Nick," Heather said. "I don't need someone saying sorry for me."

She wasn't sorry, but…

I flexed my power.

She was bored, her medication interacted uncomfortably with her power. Her power's mentality? She was profoundly bored, a little scared I'd hold a grudge, and lonely.

Lonely? I blinked, and tamped down on my power again. Heather stared back.

"Who's Emma?" She asked. It sounded a little like a demand.

I bit my lip, "Um. My best friend." I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands, clasping and unclasping them, rubbing my arms, I fidgeted, "We've known each other since… well, I guess since I can remember." I smiled weakly. Emma was always in my corner; she was there right now.

"No dad?" Heather asked.

I frowned, "No, he… he died almost two years ago."

Heather nodded, looking down at her feet. I glanced at Nick, he was looking away, studying the carpet, and I realized something. "Do you guys have family, uh, outside?

Heather stared back at me, then just stood up and walked out.

Nick met my eyes and breathed a quick apology before he followed her, leaving me alone in the library.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I finished my letter, making a point of telling them how much I was looking forward to them visiting, and sent it. Then I just… I sat staring at the screen, thinking about that. Heather, I guessed she didn't have any family. Or they weren't keeping in touch with her. Mimi didn't have anyone either, I think.

Sveta didn't have any family.

I was starting to detect a pattern, and… I felt grateful for Mom and Emma. But also sad. I had someone outside, waiting for me and rooting for me.

Who did Heather have? Or Nick, or Mimi, or Sveta?

I shook myself, and glanced at the clock. I still had about a half hour left on my session, and I was going to use it. I opened Parahumans Online, it was a little strange, looking at it now that I was a parahuman. I could look at this and ask where I fit in. That was… weird.

There was a featured article on the Triumvirate on the front page- I smiled and checked out the latest. It featured Alexandria, unfolded to her full glory like some kind of exotic tropical flower, or maybe a sea anemone. Eidolon floated alongside her, multicolored aura glowing brightly, and above them, serene, floated Hero. His tech arrayed in a halo orbiting his head. The symbolism was a little heavy handed, but I couldn't argue with the impact.

Alexandria and Eidolon and Hero. The big three. They had been four once- Legend among them, before his death.

Alexandria, nearly indestructible, with her shifting body capable of taking so many shapes. Eidolon, powers were malleable in his hands, taking any shape in himself and others.

And Hero, Hero was one of the very first heroes, that was the only way he got away with such an iconic name like that. Maybe the first Tinker. He was the greatest Tinker in the world, certainly the strongest in the USA. The strongest in North America with the possible exception of Dragon, the strongest cape in Canada.

The article was primarily about ongoing fighting to contain Eagleton Tennessee. Noting patterns of the Machine Army continuing to skirmish along the perimeter of the town, and there was talk of increasing the Protectorate garrison. Calls for a sterilizing action by Hero was quieting, the official word being that the threat was being downgraded to A-class. So long as they were contained. Detractors of the policy speculated that it was actually because the PRT wanted a 'harvestable' source of tinkertech.

I scrolled back to the big banner spread at the top of the page.

When I was younger, I'd dreamed of becoming a cape like Alexandria- strong and beautiful and respected, I'd protect the innocent and uphold justice. Emma'd never been into superheroes the same way, but always laughed and went along with it, the two of us playing at grand heroics, with sheets tied over our shoulders, jumping from the top of her bunkbed, pretending to fly. And since coming to Alchemilla, I'd learned that Sveta looked up to her too- their powers were similar.

For Sveta, Alexandria represented a ray of hope, that she'd be able to gain control of her powers one day.

I impulsively clicked the regional news stub, looking up Brockton. The gangs had been quiet when I left, but it looked like there had been some sort of upheaval in the past month. I kept reading.

E88 was basically as it had been, with Allfather, Kaiser, and Iron Rain's helmets dominating the organization tab, and representing neo-Nazi's everywhere. ABB still had Lung, and Butcher hadn't reincarnated yet. But when I looked up the Marche things got interesting. Marquis, never defeated in battle with any of the gangs or the Protectorate, had acquired two more henchmen- Grue and Browbeat. Both of them were big, solidly-built guys; next to them, the Marquis looked deceptively nonthreatening, considering he was arguably the most dangerous parahuman in Brockton Bay. No names yet, though.

More interesting was the description of the fights Marquis had won so recently. Apparently, a new gang had established itself, calling themselves the Fae, and allied with the Marche. It was led by a woman who called herself Ingénue- a onetime independent hero notable for driving three heroes insane. They had gone to the Birdcage before anyone caught on, and she had gone on the run. I guess this was her surfacing.

There was a lot of speculation on her bio that went nowhere, lots of back and forth. Master awareness had skyrocketed following the Simurgh's emergence, and Ingenue had been exposed just eight months later, at it's height. But solid facts, particularly following her going to ground, were surprisingly short in supply. One blurry photograph was posted, showing her alongside what looked like a young woman or girl with light brown or blond hair. It wasn't clear if this was another parahuman or not, but Ingénue had always gone after men…

My gut twisted, I had powers, but instead of stopping villains, instead of fighting crime, I was here. Doing nothing. I shook myself- I was getting distracted, and I was on a time limit.

"Okay, okay…" Read now, speculate later. First on my list was Lizard Prince. I typed his name into the search bar.

He was a villain, as I'd been told, originally based out of Virginia; his rap sheet included a history of breaking and entering, and assault. Violent crimes. Four altercations with the Protectorate and Wards.

He was a grab-bag cape with minor shape-shifter powers, the ability to stretch and contort his limbs. He could also stick to and walk up walls, possessed a minor power to project a sticky substance that entrapped opponents, and a danger sense. His name, however, came from his ability to regenerate by 'shedding his skin'.

Because of this ability, he could sustain injuries that would be permanent for another cape, could break bones and sacrifice limbs and regrow them rapidly, like a lizard sacrificing its tail. Hence the name.

Of course, seeing it in action…

I swallowed back nausea after opening the attached video. "Oh god," I gasped. I was really glad that I didn't have that power, that was disgusting. I'd go through so many clothes…

As Summer Holiday had said, he'd been slated for the Birdcage. His arrest had followed a complicated incident that outed a Ward. He'd pled insanity, now he was here in Alchemilla.

I looked up the others in his gang. The ones he had named. What had he called them? Inkling, Frog, Prowler, Quilt, Marionette.

I scrolled through some mugshots. Inkling, the girl with tentacles for hair, had been involved in some violent crime. But there was some confusion in the specifics. Two altercations with gangs in New York and Maine, public enough that she had almost been branded a solo vigilante.

It helped that she had a versatile power, one of those odd powers that didn't really fall into a category of itself. She could project a corrosive substance onto surfaces, which then functioned as a rapid means of transit for her- like super speed, or maybe teleporting.

I was a little envious. All I had was straight-up Thinker powers. That denoted powers that granted additional senses or information, and was usually hard to use directly in stopping crime. She had a power that gave her a lot of options, she could do so much, all I had was… was, this sense of things I didn't want to know.

Don't think about that. Negative spiral. What about the rest?

Frog had been picked up somewhere in Maine as well… Prowler had some kind of mental impairment that left him unable to understand spoken language… Quilt had been involved in human trafficking, and not voluntarily… Marionette didn't have an article at all.

Except for Lizard Prince, the only thing they had in common was they were all monster capes, capes without identities or memories before their powers. It was a phenomenon I had read about, one with a lot of theories attached but no concrete conclusion.

It struck me as a little odd, when I thought about it. Lizard Prince hadn't been known to work with anyone else prior to his capture, but I wondered. It seemed a little out of character for him to suddenly develop a charismatic streak… what had changed that? I had no idea where Marionette fit into that either. Why no article?

I shook my head and stared at the search bar for a moment, the next name was obvious. Her power, it turned out, was close to what I had perceived. And about as different from Lizard Prince as powers got.

Summer Holiday was a longtime member of the Protectorate, though never one with a spotlight on her. She'd lost her leg fighting in the First Emergence.

I paused, how old did that make her? She didn't look much older than her late twenties- no, no, questions later.

She used the prosthesis instead of getting it healed on basis of personal preference. There wasn't much more on her, which was strange, since she had the bearing and looks for front page PR. And her powers only played to that… And they were like fireworks, incredible fireworks. She could charge up balls and beams of energy and kinetic force and release them, tailoring the effect as she desired. It was like looking at the grand finale of a Fourth of July display in a major city. And there were videos. A lot of videos. Apparently she did displays on occasion.

There was some speculation that she had a broader power, that it lay more along the lines of general energy manipulation- she was on record for producing fire, or ice as part of their effects, or even more exotic applications.

But I was running out of time, I'd look at them later. I drummed my fingers on the desk; next, next was Mimi.

Burnscar brought up a stub article, she had been involved in a fire at a high school. There wasn't much else. I guessed she'd been caught in the aftermath of her trigger, never made the transition to hero or villain. That made sense.

What was the name of Mimi's friend? Labyrinth? I entered that, and came up with a deceased heroine from California, and a Tinker in Europe that specialized in camouflage, a male Tinker. Neither of those, so maybe she'd never debuted?

My session was over, though. I logged off and stood up. What to do now? It was still a while until Lunch, I didn't have anything else scheduled until the afternoon. I could- Heather. I'd find Heather and see if I could smooth over whatever I had said.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The exercise room had half a dozen patients working on the machines or jogging on the treadmill. A couple faces I even recognized from my group yesterday. Heather was not among them.

I frowned, and pushed on the connection, the familiarity, looking for a direction.

It was inexact- a wave of a hand and a general sense of 'that way' like a compass needle wandering in and arc. I followed it through the machines to the gymnasium, where I found her tossing a basketball into the hoop.

My throat tightened up a bit. I wasn't good at this. I hardly knew Heather. Hardly knew anyone here.

But I could do this. I could. Doctor Yamada was here, and Doctor Selmy. And Mom, Mom had always told me, when I was at my most withdrawn, that I could melt anyone's heart if I tried. I thought about Emma, how she'd approach this. But I was never good at that- going up to people all smiles, always knowing what to say. Emma was as at ease in social settings as I was awkward.

I couldn't do that. But I could try.

"Um. Can I play?"

Heather missed and the ball bounced off the rim, back towards me. I could see the direction, the path it would follow, in my mind's eye. The angle was illuminated- like the security cams. I stepped forward and caught it, right after it rebounded. It was so… simple. I hardly had to think about it.

"Yeah, sure."

I looked up, Heather was standing with hands on hips, expectant. She… Well, she didn't look upset.

Deep breaths, I can do this. I hesitated and then kicked off my slippers, and peeled off my socks.

"Did you play a lot before…. This?" I asked.

"Yeah." Heather said.

I tossed the ball back to her, and she turned, shooting it into the hoop. She caught it on the way down and glanced at me. "Two-zero, are you just going to give them to me?"

I blinked, and took a step forward. Heather started dribbling, took the ball out to the middle of the court and I took a defensive position in front of the basket. Heather danced back and forth a little, got fancy with the dribbling, crossing back and forth in between her legs. Back and forth, despite her bare feet.

She suddenly darted forward, juked to the right and went left, then shot for the basket. My feeble attempt to block her went wide and I might as well as been standing still for all the good it did.

"Come on!" Heather snapped, catching the ball and dribbling back to mid court.

The next time she moved forward I darted in, aiming a slap to knock the ball away. Heather spun away, lined up another shot and made it too.

I was already breathing hard. I'd had exercise periods while in quarantine, under the vigilant eye of orderlies each day. But there was a difference between a hundred lunges and crunches in the recreation yard, and maybe some pushups when I was feeling especially restless late at night. Anything to keep moving.

It was another to get my heartrate up in honest. It didn't take long before I was panting, and my hair was slicked to my forehead.

Heather kept going for baskets, and I kept trying to keep up with her, until my sides were stitching and I felt like I was about to explode. It was a little strange, it felt good. Really good. My power sketched her actions in the air as we played. By her fifth basket, I could tell when she was bluffing, when she was feinting, and when she was going for a shot- even if I couldn't stop her.

I think I was putting up a better showing too, by the end, Heather had a faint sheen of sweat and was breathing a little harder. Which I might have been more proud of if I wasn't dying on my feet at the time.

"Okay," She said, after I think her fifteenth basket. Or maybe it was more. I kind of lost count at some point.

"Stop, you're gonna kill yourself. Or have a stroke, or something."

I walked to the benches set against the gymnasium walls on legs like wet noodles and collapsed into one. Heather followed, and sat beside me, but she waited until I was finished catching my breath before she started talking.

"I wanted to be in the NBA, you know?" she said. "I was captain of the Northwood West Tigers, best team in Virginia. I had scholarships and everything."

She scuffed her feet on the gymnasium floor. "Turns out I got something called, 'osteogenesis imperfecta'." She pronounced it carefully, like she'd tried before and not gotten it right. A lot.

She leaned her arms on her knees, and there was a pause, "That, uh, means I have really soft bones."

I blinked at her, "Is that when you got powers?"

"A couple weeks later." She said, pulling on leg up to her chest, we were quiet for a few minutes. "Kinda funny… my power compensates for it, some, but…" She shook her head. "What are you doing over here, anyway? You aren't a sports type. You're a bookworm type."

"I… I wanted to say sorry, if I said anything-"

"Shit, did you do all that just to say sorry?" Heather laughed. I laughed a little too, and felt a knot loosen in my chest.

"What were you looking up anyway?" she asked.

"A bunch of the other patients." I said, "I… uh, I'm kind of a cape geek."

"Really?" Heather perked up, "You look me up?"

"Sorry, I ran out of time." I frowned, "Actually, I have a couple questions, do you know anything about Lizard Prince?"

Heather leaned back, "LP? He talks shit with the headshrinkers a lot, likes to pick fights. Don't really talk with him or his crew. Some of the shit he pulls is fun though." She grinned.

I bit my lip.

"What about…" I reached a bit, it felt like prying. "Labyrinth?"

Heather screwed her face up in a sour grimace, "Labyrinth? She's this, uh, like she's autistic? She doesn't really control her powers. Some kind of really strong effect over an area, turns places into wonderlands. It's happened a couple times. There's a procedure for it." That was worrying. Alchemilla had proven to not be anything like what I'd expected, it was more dangerous and more eerie. "The doctors were talking about it a couple weeks ago." She shrugged.

"Mimi said she was her best friend." I said slowly.

Heather shrugged, "I've never seen her, but I don't hang out with Burnscar, every time she burns someone she has to get moved, so she kind of moves a lot..."

I looked down at my toes, "Nowhere to put down roots, not even here." I muttered.

Heather shook her head, "I dunno." She held out her hand, "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

I took her hand, "We're 'cool' right?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, we're cool."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I didn't meet Labyrinth until the next week.

Last edited: Jun 28, 2017

126

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.6

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#8

Cygnet 1.6

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 6 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 6: Cygnet 1-6, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I finished the day out without any further incident, and at night returned to my room in time for curfew. After the excitement of the rest of the day, it almost felt like a letdown.

I stood, looking at it from the doorway. It seemed so empty, I thought maybe it'd feel different once I had my own room.

The absence of the computer was an aching void, but I did still have my books… I hoped Sveta was going to be okay. She didn't have many opportunities to talk to people, though she did mention Dragon video chatted with her fairly often.

I lay down on the bed and started to read.

The clock changed, time moving like molasses. I wasn't sure why I'd thought it'd be different… but I found myself thinking that it was supposed to. I'd been thinking that a lot lately, it seemed. After a few hours, I stood, and started pacing. I had too much energy, and there wasn't enough to hold my attention.

I paced for about twenty minutes and lay down again, cycled through Oliver Twist, my notebooks, and my art pads. Maybe I'd try coming up with a costume again for when I got out?

I ended up sketching a web detailing the other patients, and the doctors I had met, their relation to each other.

The hours ground on at a snail's pace, I definitely needed a computer.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I might have held my breath the first time I pushed the door open. I don't know why, or what I expected would happen if I wasn't allowed out. An alarm or something? It'd probably just… not open…or something.

But it did open, and I felt a little sheepish stepping out into the empty hall. Once out, I wondered what I'd do; curfew was over at seven, I had an hour free until breakfast and nothing to fill the time. But I steeled my nerves and lifted my head. I'd just have to find something. I could do that.

I wandered through the hall. The exercise room was occupied, a pair of patients… Uh, that was Lethe and… Fusor. They were both running on the treadmills, side by side in sweats. A couple orderlies loitered by the wall.

I needed to get some sweats… I'd ask Doctor Yamada about that. I glanced at my socks and slippers- some sneakers too.

I didn't really have anything to exercise in, but I wandered through the machines, taking a closer look. I experimentally tried the barbell machine. I could barely manage a curl at twenty five pounds. It was kind of sad.

I gave Lethe a wave and she smiled back at me, but I kept one eye on her bird-thing. It sat perched on one of the shoulder machines, snapping its beak.

My power resonated with a constant low-key thrum of danger from it. Lethe's control was not constant- I had a suspicion that it was tied to giving her familiar commands. When it a not actively involved in a task it would act on instinct, and was very territorial. But as long as I kept my distance I'd be fine. Lethe caught my hesitance and her smile faded a little.

"Good morning Taylor!" It was a little forced.

"Morning Lethe." I replied, trying to put a little extra warmth into my reply. She'd tried very hard to make me feel welcomed in my first group meeting, and was a hero through and through. As Falconer she had shown up for two Endbringer fights before her familiar had proven too dangerous to allow in public. "Do you and Fusor always run together?"

Fusor glanced my way, but said nothing, and continued his steady jog.

"Well, for a while." Lethe said, a little breathlessly. She was setting a brisk pace, her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was slicked to her forehead.

Lethe herself was a slightly stocky woman, with freckles and curly brown hair. Perhaps in contrast to her sharp and angular familiar.

Fusor just grunted, concentrating with singular intensity on the treadmill's heartrate readout. He had yet to say a single word to me, and didn't say much to anyone else either.

Someone else entered, Cidersong- Benny. His gangly limbs at odds with the sweat suit. In clashing turquoise and bright red. I gave it a dubious look, was he colorblind?

His smile was bright, however, and the moment he saw me, he bounded over.

"Good morning!" He crowed.

Disorientation, distance. Ability to impede.

"Morning Benny," I said, "You working out too?"

"Indeed!" He thumped his chest dramatically, "One day I will be a renowned hero, hailed worldwide for my daring exploits! If I am to do so, I will need to exert myself most strenuously! The Protectorate doesn't let just anyone in!"

"Really?" Really. In fact, he launched into a detailed explanation for his training regimen and his career plans. They featured a line of action figures with themed variants of his costume in eye-searing shades.

I smiled, he was just… such a kid. All that honest, earnest, endless enthusiasm. I was reasonably certain that he got all of it from watching television, but he truly believed in the idea of being a hero and didn't know how to speak in anything but exclamation points.

I sat on one of the weight benches and watched as he attempted to use the other machines. I felt a little better about my showing, he struggled almost as much as I did. I guess he wasn't a Brute.

Lethe and Fusor left, I waved to them as they did and Lethe waved back. Fusor's sour scowl didn't change at all.

One of the orderlies came by, distributing water bottles and towels and washing down the machines. A sturdy, broad-shouldered man with dark skin- I had to double take, it was the orderly from the cafeteria who had been talking to Mimi, trying to calm her down. His nametag read Lars, and after he gave Benny his water bottle, he recognized me too.

I waved, "Hi."

He smiled broadly, "Good morning! Not exercising today?"

"I don't have any sweats. Or shoes," I said.

"Oh. I can get you set up if you want- exercise uniforms are available for all patients." He look out a notepad, "I'll ask, see what we have, okay? Might be able to set you up today."

I… really appreciated that. I'd enjoyed playing against Heather, and it'd be something to fill the hours with. "Thank you." I scuffed my slippered feet on the rubber mats and stared at the floor.

"I ougtta thank you," Lars replied, "You helping calm Burnscar down really saved me back there."

"You can call me Taylor." I smiled, then frowned, "And… she doesn't like that name."

Lars shrugged broad shoulders, "The staff isn't allowed to use private names for the patients in public. Protection of identity. There's a couple of others that don't like what they're called, but won't pick something else." His face was grave.

I chewed on that for a minute, and watched Benny struggle with the lateral lift machine. Well, I suppose it made sense, there were villains here, and some of the heroes might go back to active hero work after they were discharged.

I was lost in thought, as Benny wrestled with the weights and talked to himself.

But…

"She really hates it." I muttered, pulling in a little. I hugged a knee to my chest. I remembered how Mimi had fluctuated between tears and rage. She hadn't chosen that name for herself.

What did she associate it with? She haden't had time to build a career prior to being institutionalized.Which implies that Burnscar was an appellation the Asylum staff came up with. Which is pretty fucked up, considering that it refers to her self-mutilation and her mental illness. She can't be burned because of her powers, so her cigarette marks had to be pre-trigger.

"That's what we gotta do."

I nodded and stood up. It was almost breakfast time and I didn't feel like watching Benny wrestle with the machines any longer. I just wanted to… move. Move and think.

On the threshold Lars' voice stopped me, "Hey, some of the docs hate it too."

I glanced back at him. He was smiling a little lopsidedly, and sadly. I tried to smile back, and left.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

"I've never really known what to do with blank paper." Nick confessed, as he stared at a lonely circle on his page. His pen wavered idly, and I sympathized.

"I know," I said, "I always hate it- 'draw whatever you want' and nothing comes." I had a squiggly, meandering line that I was trying to shoehorn into something, anything in my head. I tried rotating my humble canvas, looking at it from a fresh angle. Maybe I'd switch over to watercolors.

Breakfast was followed by something Doctor Yamada had suggested I try- a 'creative therapy workshop', which was like arts and crafts in middle school.

No, wait, it was exactly like being back in school.

The workshop was set up in a room with ceramic tile floors and one full wall of locked cabinets. There were two counters with that black resin stuff you saw in chemistry class. Probably to simplify cleaning.

There was paints and pencils, mostly, but nurse Stevens mentioned there were potter's wheels and clay, woodcrafts, even Legos- by the bucketful. They had to be kept in designated public areas and times, however, since some patients (mostly Tinkers) would take the materials and hoard them.

The supervising nurse stressed that we were not allowed to take anything out of the room, and did this enough that I didn't even wonder if some Tinker had taken them and built something before.

Of course someone had. Of course.

Nick was taking the workshop too, but not Heather- which honestly might have been for the best. I also saw Benny, who was trying valiantly and energetically to turn his own sheet of paper into some kind of Picasso and Gogh still life (what of, was not clear), and the tiny blonde girl that I was pretty sure had been sitting on the ceiling in the sunroom the day of my orientation.

I was pretty sure, because she was sitting on the ceiling again. This time with a fistful of markers and a length of butcher's paper. She lay on her stomach, legs idly kicking in the air as she drew. Almost all of it was even on the paper.

"I used to draw all the time, back at home." I said, "But I haven't had much inspiration since..." Since the alley. And the hospital. "Since I came here I guess."

I hadn't felt very creative at all. But… I think that was passing. I took another look at the squiggle, turned the page again.

The nurse was mostly concerned with Benny, since he was getting paint everywhere. Hmm. That might be something. I started working on the line of the desk, Benny's energetic movements and the nurse bending over the desk kind of worked themselves into the squiggle…

Well, I didn't think I'd be winning any competitions, but it was something.

"I had a dog," Nick said, "… Called her Snickers."

I looked up from my paper. Nick was propping his cheek up on his arm, wistfully staring across the cabinets.

"Used to walk her with Dad." He said, "Play fetch in the woods, she'd chase everything that could run."

There was a deep melancholy, in his expression. I turned my power on him, but it was impossible to be sure- was it the loss of the dog, his father, or the freedom of the outdoors? It could have been all of them, and none. He'd been here longer than me, all of those things were something I didn't have… and Dad was a painful place in my heart, but it was already a distant one.

I'd been too young when he died to hold onto it, and I had happier times since then to dull his loss. What about Nick? Had it been a transition from some life changing horror to this empty, lifeless place?

I turned back to my paper, and started to draw the girl. I hadn't caught her name. She was positioned above Benny and the nurse. The streamer of butcher's paper on my page was longer, trailing off behind and below the desk under her.

A shadow passed overhead. I looked up to find the subject of my drawing staring back at me.

She wordlessly extended a hand, pointing. Well, I was mostly just bored anyway- I handed her the page.

She curled up, floating in the air as she studied what I'd drawn and I watched her in turn. It was fascinating, she was just… floating there. My power hinted at her power. Some kind of area-effect dealing with objects around her, including her own body. Telekinesis? Something more nuanced?

"It's pretty," The little flying girl said, quietly, hushed.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Audrey." She had a faint lisp, and looked right at my face when she handed my paper back to me, "You're good drawin'," she whispered.

I smiled at her and, slowly, she smiled back.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

"The name the staff use is 'Alpha Lyrae'. She never had a name outside Alchemilla." Nick answered, "I, uh, I think a couple of the Doctors named her Audrey. Part of her therapy, I think."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"She was an orphan or something, the PRT just found her one day up in New York." Nick scuffed his feet as he walked, "She barely talks. I think she was a Ward for a little while, but she had some kind of fit, I guess? It was in the news, I think."

He shrugged, scuffing his slippers. I hmmed.

We were walking to lunch, art therapy over. I felt a little better, but Audrey's shy smile bothered me. Just like Nick's hesitance bothered me, and Mimi's hesitant… I tried to put a word to it. Unfamiliarity? Like she wasn't shy, not the way Nick was, but she wasn't used to people talking to her.

Nick himself... It was a little strange, I… didn't think that his power tampered with his brain. It wasn't intrusive, not like Mimi's, or like Sveta's. He came across as… a little anemic, I guess. Just kind of substantial and lethargic, and thin, he always kind of faded into the background around Heather. But she was a bit off-center so maybe that wasn't really fair. He just seemed a little washed out and sad. Depressed? I didn't know.

The chirpy, annoying, automated, pointless PA announcements softly continued overhead.

Alchemilla is a world-renowned psychiatric health center specializing in inpatient treatment. Our Psychiatrists, physicians, and licensed professionals are board certified to meet the mental health needs of-

"I just…" I tried, "She seems pretty well-adjusted." Which was a backhanded compliment if I'd ever given one, damn it, but she was just a little kid. I couldn't imagine her belonging here let alone living here for more than a year. What would that do to someone? Someone as young as she was? She couldn't have been older than ten!

"I don't know her very well," Nick admitted. Nick shrugged again, and tried to smile but it ended up more of a grimace.

Again, the itch. My power pinged, he was using his, or, it was active. If he couldn't turn it off, it had to be working almost all the time. That happened a lot, usually accompanied by shame and almost physical pain. "Nick... what's your power?" I asked.

Nick jerked like I'd struck him, shrank back a little. "Uh…"

I crossed my arms, "I know you used it just now and…"

"I…" He stared at the floor, "It's nothing special."

"Nick… it hurt you. I know you can't turn it off, but that's all I know." I frowned, severely. At least, I hoped that was how it looked. I didn't think I did severe very well. My glasses made my eyes too wide for it to really take most of the time. It made me look like a large-eyed bird, and when I was younger it only served to get my cheeks pinched.

He was quiet for a moment, then mumbled something so quiet I couldn't catch it.

"What?"

He was pale and his hands shook, and the explanation came out in a rush, "You won't like me any more if I do."

I blinked. Why wouldn't I like him? It felt truthful, but also… shallow? Empty? I'd never felt something like that before, not from someone I was talking to. Voice and inflection were both correct, but I could feel a hollowness- insincerity without the intent to deceive. Did he not mean it? Maybe it was mechanical response, rote reaction? Maybe he didn't like to think about it? Prior experience?

-and a variety of of innovative new mental health treatments-

His expression flickered between fear and apprehension, and shame. Burning shame. "Would you feel better about it if I promised not to?" I asked softly.

Nick jerked and shook his head quickly, "Um, no, can't you tell- your power?"

"No, I try not to… um, invade people's privacy. If I can avoid it." I did. It was harder, if I touched them. "I don't look, if I can help it. But I know a little, just standing near you. You're a Thinker, it has something to do with emotion, I think. You can't turn it off, but it causes you discomfort sometimes, and it just did a moment ago."

Nick nodded slowly, eyes darting up to mine, then down to the floor guiltily. "I… I know what you're ashamed of, or afraid of. What people are afraid of."

I leaned back a bit at that, in surprise. That was… I stalled as I organized my thoughts, "Ah?" I breathed faintly, thinking. What would that be like, to know the most disgusting, most shameful secrets of everyone I ever met? Before I knew anything else about them? What would that be like? But I did know, didn't I?

I touched on my power, and blinked at how afraid he was.

His shoulders were drawn in, hunched forward- the instinctive reaction to anticipated injury. He was bracing for my rejection, or fear. I knew what that felt like, I knew what it was like.

"That's kind of like my power, too, you know?"

Nick met my gaze. I smiled, and ever so slowly, he returned it.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Benny had lunch with us. Heather too.

And as Benny didn't have an off switch and Heather didn't have any restraint of any kind, so our table ended up a little crowded and chaotic. I wasn't alone, actually I felt a little crowded. It felt so strange, so different from my first few days.

Benny waved his arms in wide, exaggerated motions as the regaled Heather with a story of his great exploits. I'd heard it three times, and tuned it out, content to eat my sandwich, a little withdrawn from them.

"-And then he fell down the stairs, so I picked myself up and ran to find security- bravely, of course!"

I still wasn't sure if Benny's stories were driven by his sense of humor, or by a disconnect to reality. But they had me smiling all the same.

Lunch was… nice.

Afterwards we all gravitated towards the sunroom. I saw Charnel, seated motionless in the corner by the bookshelf, hands clasped loosely in her lap. She looked like she was asleep, nodded off with her hair obscuring her face. The heavyset man with the orange scrubs was back napping on one of the easy chairs, snoring quietly.

"Want to watch anything?" asked Heather, "We're got all the classics. How's Die Hard sound?" Benny and Nick made approving sounds.

Heather and Benny gravitated to the television, grabbing the remote and looking over the movie library. Nick sat down on the empty couch. I didn't particularly like Die Hard, but I hadn't watched any movies in a while. I kind of drifted across the room while Heather and Benny struggled for the remote to set it all up.

I glanced at the heavy man in the easy chair, and out of curiosity turned my power on him- and to my surprise, he was awake. Awake, and very aware.

I hesitated, then gave the apparently-asleep man a smile, "Um, h-hello?"

He snored quietly, and his breathing shifted slightly. If I didn't have a power that told me otherwise, I'd have thought he was actually asleep.

"I know you're not asleep." I said, "Why are you pretending?"

He opened an eye and looked at me, and yawned lightly, "Hello again." He grumbled.

I remembered him from my first group meeting, and he'd been napping in the sunroom that first day. But for the life of my I couldn't remember his name. I didn't think we'd ever been formally introduced.

"Taylor." I held out my hand.

"Blake." Obligingly, he shook my hand. "And you're Auspice."

I blinked at him, "Just Taylor is fine."

Blake leaned back and winked slowly, "Maser, once upon a time. Used to run with some guys up in Jersey." Blake said.

He'd been a cape? I frowned and thought back. Not a recent name, I was sure about that. I started mentally backtracking. Blake's face fell a little as the silence stretch on- It took me a moment to connect the name with who he meant, and no wonder, I'd been a toddler when that name meant something.

The blood left my face in a cold rush, and I felt a little weak in the knees. My eyes couldn't widen any further if they tried, but he just brightened and laughed. "Oh, you know most of the time it's the Heroes that get all tangled up in knots when I tell 'em that. You sure you weren't a hero?"

"Uh, no. I-I wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow, and his smile dimmed again. "Relax, kid, I'm retired." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Maser had definitely been a villain. He'd made a big name for himself in a number of New Jersey gangs shortly after capes stopped being an urban legend, working as hired muscle. He didn't have the Marquis' invincible reputation, but he'd been strong. Oh, he was no Alexandria or Legend, no Eidolon, and certainly no Hero. But he'd been a big name before the Protectorate had been a formal institution, that carried weight.

Maser had disappeared about eight years ago, jst fallen off the face of the planet. And it was a big deal because he was one of a handful of capes that were powerful- truly powerful, back when they stepped out of the shadows.

Why was he here?

I hadn't heard anything about any kind of meltdown- not the sudden kind that usually ended in explosions and a chase that ended at the lip of one of the craters. And that's the kind of thing that usually accompanied a sudden vanishing act like that.

That had happened, not too long ago. I tried to remember the name- it had been a Ward from Pennsylvania, but the name eluded me. All I could recall was the news had been full of that last shot, of a tiny, distant figure running and crawling down the fog-shrouded slope towards the center of the crater in Michigan, towards the faint light that always illuminated the lake at the bottom; until it was swallowed up in the distance and the mist.

There was full coverage for days afterwards whenever it happened, especially if it was a Hero. There was always a lot of collateral.

But… I wasn't getting that impression off Blake. He seemed very laid back, and his stare, from lazy half-lidded eyes was intelligent and assessing.

"You are not insane." I decided.

"That a fact?" Blake replied, and after I gave him a hesitant nod he grunted, "Figured you're smart."

He leaned forward a little, "Tell you a secret, about half the people here are insane, the rest are just dangerous, or people want them locked away and can't send 'em to the 'Cage." He winked again, "Take me- I walk up to the front door and tell 'em I'd like somewhere to retire to where Accord or Chain Man or whoever isn't going to come busting down my door some day because I let myself get fat and slow. Tell 'em I want to retire and I'd like to cut them a deal." He winked again, "See, me? I'm one of the strongest Artilleries in the business, but I can do controlled too. And they got a lot of head cases here, one or two even with a lot of power. So, I tell 'em I can help out if someone gets rowdy. All I ask for is three square meals, a comfortable bed, and no head shrinking."

I blinked at him owlishly, "You… you aren't even a patient?"

"Didn't say that." He flicked his fingers up, and I followed the gesture… Someone had taken a marker and scrawled under the lip of the divider between the cafeteria and the Sunroom, up where you didn't notice unless you knew where to look-

"In a mad world, only the mad are sane." I read.

"Talk to Charnal, been here longer than I have. That girl knows more than she lets on. If you can puzzle through what she says, she is one of the crazy ones." I turned back to Blake, but he was leaned back, and with one last grin and secretive wink, he went back to pretending to be asleep.

I thought about the line, hidden above the door, and additional patients drifted into the sunroom. The huge, obese woman puffing and wheezing, the rocking man (he walked very slowly, with both hands fisted at his temples). Benny and Heather were in a quiet argument attempting to decipher the workings of the television.

("I know what I'm doing- so what, they updated the system."

"I don't think they changed it…" Nick hazarded.

"But what about-"

"No, wait, I found the manual." Nick lifted it triumphantly and Heather immediately snatched it from his hand.)

I didn't feel like getting in the way of that. Would my power even work on that kind of problem? I wondered…

They did, eventually, manage to get Die Hard working much to Heather's cheer. The movie began, and more patients gravitated towards the sunroom. Heather and Benny both lay on the floor, with the remote. Nick sat beside Heather, and I flanked our little group on Benny's side.

A couple additional patients gravitated towards the television as Bruce Willis struggled with the vagaries of holiday travel. I found the patients more interesting than the movie. That one, the balding middle aged man with dark hair washing his hands over and over again with an antiseptic wipe, he was a Tinker- something to do with Composition or Content. That one over there, in the cafeteria the obese woman, she had a strange one, she could…

A chill ran down my spine. There- I could see the little doll-person. Marionette. She was perched on the back of the couch, smiling widely right at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.

Doctor Yamada had said she'd be in solitary for three weeks! How was she here?

Was she alone?

My eyes darted from face to face. There were nearly a dozen patients gathered in the room at this point. I couldn't be sure- no there! Lizard Prince was lurking in the back, on one of the chairs along with Blake. The girl with the tentacle hair was there too, Inkling. The rest of the gang was out in the Cafeteria. I could see them at the table closest to the Sunroom, talking. Quilt darted a furtive glance my way.

I turned back to the movie, swallowing, and stared at the screen without seeing it. Why were they here? No- first, what could I find out using my power? I took a deep breath, and I loosened my mental hold on it, and turned it on them each.

I closed my eyes and focused on the attention on me- the focus. There were enough people in the room that I had to really sort through what I was picking up, pick through the wordless conversations around me to find the words I wanted to hear. To listen to. The three out in the cafeteria were too far away for me to get a firm impression. Marionette was flush with anger and a malicious impulse for mischief. It was so clear I could tell from where I sat. Lizard Prince, he was much more nebulous. Consideration, cool calculation. But it was more focused, the aim unclear, but narrow.

Marionette hopped down from the back of the couch and walked back to him. I couldn't hear them talking over the movie, and the sound of my heartbeat. But… I wasn't picking up immediate danger. Whatever Marionette was planning or intending; she was going to bide her time. Or I wasn't familiar with enough to pick it up of her. It could fall either way, probably.

And neither option made the stares on the back of my head any easier to bear.

I turned around and looked at Lizard Prince and Marionette; and shark like, they smiled back.

116

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.7

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#9

Cygnet 1.7

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 7 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 7: Cygnet 1-7, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I'd never appreciated how distracting it could be to have someone behind you that you wanted to watch, and not be able to simply turn around and watch them. It was maddening!

My skin prickled, and I was acutely aware of eyes on the back of my head.

I had always wondered if people could feel eyes on them, if it was just hyperbole I imagine it felt much like this. It felt like something crawling on the back of my neck. It was nerve-wracking.

I shuffling around so that I was sitting crosswise from the line that my friends and I had formed in front of the television. The sounds of the movie played in one ear, and the background murmur of conversation between the other patients behind us in the other. Laughter.

"You think it's funny?"

"I always think it's funny, yes."

It was maddening, splitting my focus too many ways. Patients were still milling about in the cafeteria, moving in and out, and there was a small half-circle gathered around the television with us. The giggling was carried on in the background, softly.

"It always makes me laugh."

"Go laugh somewhere else, then."

There was a low-simmering sense of danger, diffused about the room. It wasn't abstract, was real and imminent. But it had no focal and I couldn't pinpoint the source; I couldn't pin it down and that had me headed for a panic attack. Was it Lizard Prince? Marionette? Who? Why?

I focused ever more intently on Prince, pushing my power as hard as I had with Mimi. Harder.

There was a connection between Lizard Prince and the other patients. It took me a moment to realize they weren't the same kind of connection between him and his gang.

Someone was murmuring under their breath, over and over.

"...They're always departing but they never arrive... and the ones that do arrive... they never leave... you never see them go they're always full... no one ever gets on but they're always... they're always departing but they never arrive..."

Obstruction. Relation. Comparing different paths to the same end, methodology.

There was a feeling of gradation there too, but I could differentiate between him and his gang and the others more easily. The other patients were tools, obstacles or objects with varying degrees of usefulness, maybe components. It was interesting. I hadn't realized I could read related information off of more than one thing when they were close by.

He thought of them in terms of what they allowed him to do, if they would get in the way.

Parts of the whole.

It was ironic because I was learning all kinds of things about my power. Any other time I'd be thrilled.

What was worse, I wasn't getting particulars. If I wasn't feeling the danger screaming at me right now, I'd say he wasn't a danger. He was, personally, calm.

"Hey."

I frowned. But if it wasn't him, who was it?

"Hey, Auspice." I blinked and glanced at Heather.

Heather nudged me but it was her glee that got my attention. "Look, here comes Elephant."

I glanced towards the cafeteria as a halting stomp approached. Elephant, Heather had called her. It was the obese woman from before, the one Heather had shoved- with her power, I think, that first day in the cafeteria. Her eyes were tiny and mean, and a low-simmering anger lurked in them. And, again, I wanted to feel sorry for her. But she did not make it easy to sympathize.

She headed towards the back couch, the one still empty. Muttering darkly and vindictively to herself, it was probably supposed to be quiet for her, but it rumbled on behind us.

The sense of danger was still growing. Still unfocused. Lizard Prince was leaned forward now, smiling and interested. Marionette… I couldn't see Marionette.

Where was she? I experienced a moment of panic. I couldn't sense Marionette- I glanced across the patients, hunting for her.

"…and the ones that do arrive... they never leave... you never see them go they're always full... no one ever gets on but they're always... they're always departing but they never arrive..."

Benny was laughing and pointing at the television. Smile wide and expressive. Heather was smiling and cheering right along with him, Nick more reserved.

"Shut up!" Elephant rumbled, little pig-eyes glittering.

Maser wasn't asleep, and the laughing lady was rocking a little. The balding man was still washing his hands. The rocking man held his fists to his temples and rocked. Where was Marionette?

In the back, Elephant stood up and approached us, stomping and limping, "Give me the remote." she rumbled.

"No way, we had it first!" Heather sniped, not looking away from Die Hard.

Benny aimed his free hand at the screen, miming a shot, in the other was the remote.

Then my senses screamed at me, danger! And Elephant lifted one huge fist and brought it down on Benny's head.

Someone screamed. Elephant roared and grabbed Benny by the back of his neck.

She struck him again, in the chest this time, and I heard ribs break, for just a moment, nausea and disorientation hit me like a physical blow, Benny's power firing blind. I jerked, trying to keep from vomiting. Then she threw him with a backhand swing into me.

I had stood, or been standing, stunned, reacting too slowly, and the motion threw me, launched me clean off my feet. There was a flurry of motion, sudden and complete pandemonium. Something bright sailed out in an arc, charring a line down the wall- the paint bubbled curled and blackened at the edges and whitened to ash at the center of the mark.

Benny and I came to rest against the wall; I was winded, he was bleeding.

Disorientation. Projection of hindrance, mild disruption of inner ear.

Benny's power. What was- what was going on? I struggled weakly under his weight.

There was a surge of wind, and about half the furniture rose an inch into the air and hurled itself at the doorway, along with the giggling woman, still seated on it. Upon impact, the woman dissolved into a mass of finger-length fleshy worms that immediately burrowed into the ruin of the couch.

I lay there stunned, staring at the chaos as it broke out. Everyone was on their feet, and there was a sudden crush of bodies as everyone tried to push everyone else out of the way to get away, or to fight. Nick was on the floor, desperately crawling backwards out of the middle of the room as Heather threw herself at Elephant, leaping at her with a flying kick and that turned into a springboard off of her shoulder. Elephant stumbled slightly, and Heather was jumping back for more. She rebounded, flying over the room.

Benny was bleeding, there was… a kind of divot in his head. Where Elephant had hit him. It made me nauseous just looking at it. His breathing was ragged and wet, and my power returned a mixture of confusing signals. I hugged him to me and pulled him towards the corner of the room, out from underfoot.

Something flew across the room and latched on to Elephant, a mass of sticky strands entrapping her fist and arm. I glanced up and found Lizard Prince grinning thinly, hand raised. He glanced at me and swung his other hand up, and a second stream of the strands arced out.

My power- it had not prepared me for Elephant's attack but it supplied the arc of his power this time fine- but the strings bent in midair as they ran into a distortion. The air bent up onto the ceiling, and my vision swam dizzily, when I could see again Lizard Prince laughed. He looked like he was about to say something, only for Blake to sideswipe him.

Arms raised and hands glowing blue, he swept his hands to one side, Lizard jerked like he'd been yanked by a rope and followed the path of his swing, wreathed in a glow as well, until he hit the wall and the glow dissipated. But instead of sinking to the floor, Lizard grabbed the wall and ran up onto the ceiling. One arm lashed out- not the strands this time, the arm stretched out, impossibly long, like rubber. Blake dodged back, and another searing blot of energy pocked the ceiling beside Lizard Prince.

Closer at hand, there was a gust of air, a crash, and a fog began to rise from the wall and the bookshelves. The walls smoked, the paint smoked ran, and the books blackened.

Poison. From fluid contact with organic/inorganic objects/surfaces. Catalytic reaction.

A balding man with black hair and a lined face crawled towards us, the back of his scrubs were smoking too. He grabbed my arm. The fear of what the poison could do to my bare skin made me panic, scream and bite his arm. He grabbed my hair and tried to get me to loosen my jaw. He let go, so I let go, and he stumbled off, climbing to his feet and running. The smoke dissipated quickly, rising sharply into the air above us. Lighter than air. Laid out on the floor, Benny and I were safe.

There was another crash as Lizard Prince, Elephant, and Maser moved out into the cafeteria. I sat there, like an idiot, and watched, blinking, stunned. My head was spinning, but Benny's shirt was rapidly turning red and I roused myself.

"Nick!" I looked up, frantically scanning the room. It looked like the site of a natural disaster, with crushed and shattered furniture scattered over the floor, and bodies mixed in, draped limply or laid out unmoving on the floor. How much time had it taken?

"Nick, help me! He's bleeding!" After a moment of hesitation, I reached over and tore his shirt. Underneath, his ribs were broken, and splinters were sticking out from under his skin. His chest was swollen and an angry purple. I pressed one had to his chest and desperately tried to make sense of it.

Nick crawled over, eyes wide, he looked lost; I couldn't see Heather. I stared down at Benny's ruined ribs. I… I didn't know what to do.

There was blood on my hands. Warm and sticky, like I'd dipped them in a bucket of paint. I spread my fingers and there was resistance, they stuck together. I started breathing quickly- no! No time to hyperventilate! I whipped my hand on my shirt.

When this is over, I promised myself, as blood from Benny soaked into my shirt collar. I'll freak when this is all over, have a complete and utter breakdown. Later.

"I can help!" I jerked, looking up from the horror of Benny's chest to see the patchwork girl with the yarn hair. Quilt. She sat beside us, and pulled up her right sleeve. She gripped one of the patches- this one looked like velvet, and pulled in off. Then she slapped it on Benny, over the splinters. She did this again, and again, wrapping his chest in them.

Sympathetic healing. Weak effect tied to her patches, area of effect. Brings tissue to base state. Limited scope.

It might buy him time.

There was a crash, and one of the chairs flew over us to shatter on the wall. Blake- Maser was out in the cafeteria now, and half a dozen patients were plastered to the floor with a blue glow shrouding them. Maser was flying in the air, hands in his pockets. Lizard Prince was on the floor, elongated limbs limp. Elephant was still up, however, bellowing furiously as Blake's aura pushed her down to one knee.

Gravity manipulation. High degree of control. The lasers- small particles rapidly accelerated.

There were security personnel pouring through the doors, and I saw some nurses in green scrubs among them. Maser drifted to the ground as Summer Holiday stepped in. They exchanged a long look, Summer Holiday didn't like him, I thought. Maser let the patients on the floor stand as the staff reached them.

I closed my eyes and sighed, help was here. Benny was still breathing, was still bleeding, and struggling feebly. We were okay.

I clenched my hands together to keep them from shaking, and pulled my knees to my chest.

It was okay. We were going to be okay.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

-Alchemilla provides housing that is far above the national standard in terms of safety, security, and comfort-

It was quiet, in the infirmary waiting room. Quiet was good. Quiet was… quiet was good. The wall clock ticked, there was no other sound.

Time for that mental breakdown I had promised myself.

I hugged my knees to myself and kept rubbing the damp wipe over my hands, scrubbing at the crevices between my fingers. It was still sticky, I was sure.

The smell of antiseptic and floor wax and copper and copper and copper and copper and copper.

Heather was sitting across from me, actually sitting, not fidgeting and twitching. Just… sitting. Nick was next to her, miserable, staring at the floor.

Benny was in surgery.

I didn't have his blood all over myself. Not anymore.

I wiped my hands again.

There were others seated in the waiting room, also waiting for news of someone inside. Charnel stood against the wall, staring unblinking straight ahead. She wasn't hurt, not even her hair was out of place.

She hadn't been fighting, I think I'd seen her on the floor though, just… lying there like some discarded toy. Now, she looked like a mannequin in a store window. She didn't move in the slightest, didn't breathe. I looked away.

Three orderlies, a man and two women, drifted through the room. One of the women was checking a bandage on Nick's jaw. He'd need stitches. I hadn't even noticed.

I hadn't noticed anything.

My power hinted at inexperience, at lack of skill, but also at compassion.

Sympathy. Empathy. Drive to assist endangered members of social group.

I tuned it out. It was cold and impersonal, and… and so pointless. I didn't want to hear it.

Quilt and Frog sat by themselves, in the corner.

They had placed themselves defensively- close to the door with their backs to the wall. I wondered if they expected some kind of backlash. That didn't make much sense to me, Lizard Prince had played a very minor role in what happened. But… I guess anger could be senseless.

Benny.

Why had Elephant done that to him?

I drew in on myself, hunching my shoulders and hugging my legs. I shivered. I was cold.

Why had she done that?

I hadn't seen it coming. I hadn't imagined it happening. I had been so focused on Lizard Prince I hadn't realized that he wasn't the threat, the source of my sensed danger. If I had… If I…

It wasn't right, I'd been there. I'd been holding him and I had no idea what to do. I had a power, but it'd been useless, again. He had been right there, in my arms. I'd been holding him. I had…

The door opened.

A doctor in green scrubs stepped out. He walked across the room and through another door without saying a word.

The clock kept ticking. I kept waiting.

I was looking when the girl entered, not through the door, through the wall. She wasn't wearing patient scrubs either- she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. She had red hair- which reminded me warmly, sharply, and painfully of Emma; but her hair was darker and shorter.

She glanced around cautiously and caught me staring.

"Hi…"

I blinked at her.

"… Don't tell the doctors I'm here." She said, and when I said nothing she slid the rest of the way out of the wall. A moment later she… shifted. Jeans and sweatshirt became scrubs- blue ones -and she sat down on the bench beside me. Her skin darkened and her hair lengthened.

Heather glanced at her, "Hey Gretchen."

"Who got hurt?" She asked.

"Benny." Heather said, "It looked bad too."

Heather glanced at me, "This is Taylor," Heather introduced me, "Taylor, this is Gretchen, also known as Tulpa."

I didn't ask any questions, this was normal now, I was sure I'd get used to it eventually.

Gretchen turned back to Heather immediately, "I could ask All-Eye to look if you want, but if she gets caught again it'll be someone's head."

Heather shook her head, "I don't know… No. It…"

The door opened and the doctor stepped through. He was accompanied by Doctor Yamada, Doctor Werneck, and Doctor Greene. Doctor Greene had a double take when he saw Gretchen.

"…Gretchen?" Doctor Greene asked, one hand darting to his glasses, adjusting them.

"…Hey." She muttered, looking resigned.

I'd worked with both of them before.

I didn't really like Werneck- a hawkish, lean man in a blue suit. He reminded me too much of one of the professors Mom worked with. Not exactly terrible… but impatient and focused on his field, uninterested in the lives of his students.

Doctor Greene was shorter, wore glasses, and was one of the youngest on faculty. He was far more pleasant, but inexperienced.

I'd prefer to talk to Doctor Yamada.

"What are you doing here, Gretchen?" She sighed. Found out.

"I hear something happened." Gretchen shrugged, "One of my friends got hurt. I had to find out who."

That didn't seem like the truth. I sensed insincerity, but also earnestness… so not the whole truth? I didn't know. I couldn't find the energy in me to care. I looked down at my feet, the legs of my scrubs were still stained with blood. I had blood on my socks. It was dried and still sticky but dark now, almost black. It made my skin itch.

"… We need to talk to each of you."

There was a pause.

"Taylor?"

Doctor Yamada stepped over to me, and squatted down so she was eye level with me where I sat. The silence stretched on until I looked up and saw her realized she'd been talking to me.

"Is that all right, Taylor?" she asked quietly.

"Sure." I whispered.

She took my hand, and I stood, following her out. I was beginning to suspect what this was about, what she was going to say. When she turned to face me, I think she understood it too. There were tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Taylor. I have some bad news."

I knew what he was going to say. With a sinking certainty in the pit of my stomach I swallowed. My eyes prickled but I refuse to cry. I wouldn't.

"Benny died in surgery, a half an hour ago," she said, "I… I wanted to be the one to tell you. You were his friend."

Emma was my friend. My best friend. I'd hardly known Benny. I hadn't known him well enough to be a friend, had I?

'One day I will be a renowned hero, hailed worldwide for my daring exploits!'

I smelled copper.

"Why would someone do that to him?" I asked, in the silence it sounded much louder than I intended.

Doctor Yamada sighed, and reached out to hug me. I didn't fight her, I was too busy trying to parse what she'd said. It kept getting jumbled, out of order. Kept echoing, skipping, repeating, but not sticking.

Benny was dead.

Last edited: Apr 16, 2017

118

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Cygnet 1.8

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#10

Cygnet 1.8

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 8 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 8: Cygnet 1-8, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

The clock ticked, ticked, ticked, ticked on and on and… It was the only sound, I wanted something else. But the clock just kept ticking.

I felt like I was back in isolation.

I wasn't in a cell. Wasn't in a straightjacket. There was carpet on the floor, and I was sitting on a comfortable couch, knees pulled to my chest. But I felt trapped. I was tense, I… I felt distant, remote, removed from the world around me, like I was outside it, looking in.

Even as I was so very aware of it.

I knew there was someone at the door an instant before the latch turned. Knew who it was at the door before I saw him.

Doctor Geoffrey Selmy was a weathered, clean-shaven man of about sixty-five, though you'd never imagine it looking at him. His skin was dark and leathery and deeply lined- creased but not loose.

His shoulders were wiry and thin, and his glance was bright and intelligent. He wore a grey suit and vest, the jacket thrown over one arm and walked with the energy of a thirty-year-old. He wasn't a tall man, at just a little over five and a half feet tall even I was taller, but he had a way of carrying himself that meant I forgot that sometimes. I liked Doctor Selmy. Doctor Yamada left me with a warmth and a smile. Lifted spirits. Doctor Selmy left me with energy and drive.

Usually.

I didn't know if I wanted that right now.

"Hello again, Taylor." He said, sitting across from me and laying his coat on the arm of his chair, "Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"No. No thanks..."

He gave me a searching look.

"Well, I'd like some water. Do you mind?"

I shrugged. Doctor Selmy poured himself a glass of water from the table pitcher. He always had something on hand. His office was more informal, less structured than I imagined a psychiatrist's office. A coffee table with the water and glasses, my couch, his easy chair. The warm colors and the carpet and bookshelves with pictures, certificates, and thick books.

"Jessica told me what happened yesterday." He said, and then let it hang, sipping his water.

I didn't say anything. What was there to say?

"Taylor?" Doctor Selmy prodded, "If you feel up to talking, I am here."

I rubbed my arms, I felt cold. "I don't know how I am supposed to feel." I said at last.

"There is no 'way' you are supposed to feel." Doctor Selmy said, "No 'way' anyone is supposed to feel after losing a friend."

I pulled my knees closer, tighter. "I hardly knew him."

Doctor Selmy peered at me, I didn't have the heart to look at him, I could feel his sympathy. His attention. It was like a spotlight directed over me.

"Taylor?"

"I've never had many friends, only Emma. I don't know how- how to make friends. I didn't know him well." I trailed off, "Not well enough."

Doctor Selmy sighed, he leaned back.

"We don't have to talk about this, if you would like." He smiled.

I was sorely tempted to smile and nod back. My early days at Alchemilla, Doctor Selmy had broken me out of depressed slumps with interesting stories.

I didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. I wanted to hear one of those right now, to forget about everything. I nodded, then I shook my head. No, no. Take control of my own recovery. But how did I, what did that even mean in… in… in this context. What did I call this?

"I want to talk about it. I just… I don't…" I stopped and took a deep breath.

I took breath- a step back from the thoughts and the emotion.

"I wanted to be a hero, once." I said, "Emma and I'd talk about what we'd do if we ever got powers. I used to watch Protectorate Pals every episode. I thought if I got powers, I'd be able to make a difference, like that, like- like Alexandria."

Doctor Selmy didn't say anything, let me talk.

"But Benny was right there. I was holding him, he was in my arms. I couldn't do anything for him right there." I swallowed, "I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything…"

I fisted my hands, "I… I don't know if I can be a hero." They don't let crazies into the Protectorate. Maybe… I could be an independent… but it felt hollow, "And everyone is… everyone is like a-a parody of a everything I imagined being a hero to be, and they're broken and I'm broken-"

"Taylor," Doctor Selmy said, a little sharply, "before the Protectorate put a copyright on the word, 'Hero' meant something more than a cape, tights, fame, or powers. It meant a depth of character. It meant someone idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities."

He gave a sour, knowing smile, "These days it's a brand statement."

I blinked at him, a little thrown, and Doctor Selmy looked at me, thoughtful.

"Taylor, how long have you had your powers?"

He knew the answer to that question, "Three months."

"And how freely have you been able to use your powers?"

"Not much…" I admitted slowly.

"It takes more than a decade of intensive schooling to become a doctor. Longer, for specialized fields of medicine and surgery. Your power can't compensate for all of that."

"I- it's my power. I ought to, ought to be able to-"

"Taylor," Doctor Selmy said very softly, "This isn't your fault."

"I…"

I didn't have a reply to that, but I didn't believe him. I didn't know if I wanted to believe him.

He looked pensive for a beat, before he stirred. "Would you like to hear a story? One from my first five years in Alchemilla."

He looked at me expectantly until I nodded.

"I once had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a young woman who went by the moniker of 'Feral.' Now, this young woman had lead a troubled life, and had a great deal of difficulties growing up. She was bright, but often very crude and abrasive. She was not here willingly, and often fought the efforts of the staff to help her."

Doctor Selmy stopped to pour himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table. He offered me a glass as well, and then sat back to sip thoughtfully. And then he began.

She came from a single parent household, she had experienced many kinds of abuse while young. She had difficulty learning to trust her therapists, and lived at Alchemilla for more than two years before she started to come out of that shell. But she did make progress.

"Feral was a wonderful young woman. She had a vibrant personality, one that did not fare well in confinement, but she resolved to better herself. To do something with her life."

Doctor Selmy's voice tailed away into nostalgia and… grief? I blinked. Yes. Grief. Greif is what this was.

He was sad; the story didn't have a happy ending.

"Feral had been a villain, two years or more before she came to us- she didn't like to talk about it. But she felt great remorse for her actions. These were no small crimes, she was a thief, a vandal, and a murderess…"

Doctor Selmy paused and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, "Feral felt… a profound remorse for what she had done. She wanted to find some way to repair the damage. To restore what she had taken and what she had broken. I encouraged her, at first. Until she got it in to her head that…"

He held his hands out in front of them, staring at them for long, long seconds as the clock ticked.

"She was a regenerator, a powerful one. She volunteered to donate organs, a living organ bank. I… I tried to stop it at first. But she thought it was the only way she could contribute. The first trials went well and a second bank of tests, human trials, was greenlighted."

"Three months in, her issues began to metastasize. By the time we realized what had happened, it was too late. Her power had become a super-powered cancer, one that was impossible to cure."

Doctor Selmy turned to look at me, his eyes were wet. Mine were too.

The silence stretched on.

Doctor Selmy sighed heavily, "Feral was a young spirit; one that was wounded by the world many times, before I was called on to help her. Because I suggested she find an outlet, I ultimately supported her when she decided to follow that course of action. And because of that, I have to live with what happened, and my role in it."

I stared at him. I almost couldn't breathe.

"Taylor…" Doctor Selmy said, speaking very softly, "I want you to understand. What happened to Benny was not your fault. It is something that happened, it is something that you will remember, but it was not your fault. I know it does not feel like that right now, but I want you to know... I have an idea of what you are going through. You are not alone in it."

Doctor Selmy leaned back, somber and level, "I don't want to hear you saying any patient here is broken. Especially you. I have seen too many good people use it to excuse themselves, to tell themselves they are helpless, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

I looked away, glanced up over his bookshelves. There was a framed picture on the wall. A photograph and writing. A man and a girl. It read 'Kalie Selmy' and two dates too smudged for me to read. And at the bottom… 'The Feral are Tame to their kind.'

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"She went on to become a Protectorate hero." Doctor Selmy said.

My surprise must have showed, "Did you think that was the end of it?" He smiled gently, "It wasn't easy, and she had many other challenges along the way. Many heartbreaks. But her triumph has carried me through many terrible disappointments."

I looked up, but Doctor Selmy was smiling; gently, sadly, but sincerely, and I felt a little better.

"… I'll try."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

I closed the door behind me, back at my own room. The day had flown past in a blur. I could hardly remember any of it.

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall for I don't know how long. I wasn't thinking, wasn't acting, I didn't have any energy left for anything but just sitting and staring.

Eventually I blinked, and I noticed my desk.

I… hadn't imagined actually getting it, and certainly not this quickly.

I stared at it. It was a setup just like I'd had in Isolation- the computer was housed in a metal block that doubled as a desk, the screen was set behind a pane of heavy glass.

My room hadn't been large to start, and the desk and chair made it even smaller. I could get up out of bed and lay down to do pushups or maybe pace in a circle… in the middle of the room I could hold my arms out and not risk touching any of the furniture, but not much more.

The clock was still ticking.

Then in a flash I was angry, incredibly angry, I jumped to my feet and crossed the room in a leap- raised my hand to smash the screen. Punched the glass…

"Motherfucker!"

I rocked for a while, cursing myself and the desk; afterwards I curled up on the floor holding my hand. Ow.

That helped clear my head. The anger was still there but it wasn't blinding any more. At the time, the pain was blinding, actually.

I lay there until the pain faded to a bull throb, distant.

I applied my power- sprained ligaments, joint. Sprained fingers.

I sighed without any energy. Didn't break anything, there was that. The clock read eleven. Lost some hours.

At least I didn't need to worry about nightmares.

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Group therapy reminded me painfully of my first session. Benny had been there, and Charnal, and Nick and Heather.

Benny had been a bright welcome to Alchemilla, introducing himself guilelessly and shaking my hand with so much energy. Everything about him had been warm and genuine.

There were new faces at this session. A waifish, thin girl with very pale skin and long red hair that did nothing to hide the metal mask and filter affixed over her jaw. She spoke with a synthesized voice and didn't meet anyone's eyes. My power hinted at her power involving sound, something deadly. I guess that explained the mask.

There was an enormous and heavily muscled blonde man with close-cropped hair and a severe scowl. He spoke with a thundering bass that made my head ring, and might have been more appropriate trying to communicate across a busy intersection. He was a Brute, maybe.

Maser was there, Charnel too. Heather and Nick were not.

I sat at the circle, with my legs drawn up to my chest.

"…I always had direction under Seamstress." Muscles was saying. He sat ruler-straight, perfect posture. Didn't fidget, even while he boomed every word, "There were rules, goals, we had a team. There were rules. Since that time I have been unable to find equilibrium. I am drifting." He roared.

"Regalia, one of the rules at Alchemilla is that if the staff ask you lower your voice, you lower your voice."

The nurse leaned back a bit, possibly anticipating more ringing bass.

I idly leaned on my power, bending it on him. I hadn't met him before, and it gave me mostly an abstract impression- something that felt like an obsession, a perspective. Obsessive compulsive? And anger, so much restrained anger.

"Can you please quiet down?" the thin girl with the synthesizer said. The mask rendered her voice in Darth Vader's best flat metallic echo, almost inflectionless, "You're making my head hurt."

"Nurse Jerrison! Group rules dictate-"

I sympathized with headache girl, I was headed that way myself. Basilisk sat on Regalia's right, Charnel on his left. Charnel looked serene, or much as her ever was, blankly staring unblinking into space. Basilisk leaned back, rubbing her temples.

"Basilisk, please, try to respect group rules." Nurse Jerrison was starting to look a little frayed around the edges, tension building in her shoulders as she juggled these personalities. This wasn't at all like my first group session. It was too discordant, no one was working together, nothing was getting done.

"All right, all right." Nurse Jerrison sighed, "I think we're done for the day. Thank you all for coming."

I stood up and listlessly watched as the rest of my group drifted for the door. I followed them out, arms folded close to me. I felt insulated from the rest, where I had wanted to know them before.

Now… I didn't know.

A hand touched my shoulder, Blake, we stopped in the hall, "Hey kid."

He peered at my face, "You feeling all right?"

I nodded silently.

"You sleeping all right?"

I shook my head, "No, I…" coughed, tried again, "I don't sleep, my power, I, uh, I don't need to."

Blake blinked, "Huh."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, um."

"Was he your friend too?" I asked.

Blake closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath. I had a hard time imagining him as a supervillain. Someone dangerous and feared and larger than life. He seemed so… tired.

"… Yeah." Blake said softly, "Thought I was done losing people when I left the streets behind me."

I nodded, didn't know what to say, but then I hadn't known Benny very long. Maybe if I'd known him longer it'd mean more and I'd know what to call what it meant to me.

"Benny was made up of snips and snails and puppy-dog tails, and butterflies. Lots of Butterflies and sunshine. Trust me, I cut that bitch open once to check." Blake growled. I blinked up at him, and he grinned wide… But he was sad…

"But he wouldn't want you to take a hit on his account. You know?" Blake said.

"Yeah…" I said softly, "Yeah, thanks."

"Heh." Blake huffed a laugh, but it was a little forced, "See you around kid."

We stepped out and I started walking. Maybe I'd go to the library and see if there was anything to read? I'd asked Doctor Selmy about getting books in addition to the computer, anything to eat up the time after curfew.

But I didn't really feel like reading… I felt listless.

I kept walking, but now my path turned towards the exercise room. Maybe a few hours of mind-numbing physical activity to drain the extra energy.

I could run, at least. Maybe a couple of the other patients would want to play basketball? Heather might.

It was still an hour before lunch, but I could find out where she was from the nursing station. I kept walking, following the hallway back towards the cafeteria. There was a distant shout.

I stopped and blinked, listening.

Something prickled over my skin, a sense of different. My sense of direction was confused. Which was strange, because I'd gotten used to having a third sense of direction- to knowing where everything was with my power, around me -now it felt like… like I was in two places at once.

Something was interfering with my power.

There was a distant whine, like an alarm. But it was faint, far away, and a cool wash ran down my back, chilling me, goosebumps rose on my arms. It was cold! What was going on with the air conditioning?

And then the walls- I jumped back as one wall bubbled and peeled back, rotted away in rusty strips. There was chipped and crumbling concrete, and rusted wire mesh under it, stained with rust and water stains. The lights became bare bulbs in wire cages overhead, flickering and sputtering.

I the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

"What the fuck?"

The hallway transformed in a wave, flowing out from the door, leaving rust and concrete in its wake. It was cold. The lights flickered and cast garish shadows under me.

I was dry mouthed. Tentatively, I pinged my power, searching for the sense of location, or position I knew had been there a moment ago, that assured sense of knowing where everything was. Instead the shadow of my map echoed back, superimposed with a sense of change. Faint, indistinct, indecipherable.

The lights flickered, casting shadows over the nightmarish hallway, two thirds gone to rust and concrete, lopsided, the rest still peeling away in sickly strands of paint and rust.

I jumped back with a yelp as chains fell from the ceiling, slipping through rust-stained holes in the concrete with a clatter.

"Okay… okay." I whispered, heart pounding.

I glanced behind me, then back the way I had been walking. I waffled. Then I kept walking, avoiding the eerie, bare walls. I'd been closer to the cafeteria, and the security booth that adjoined it. I could still make it, right?

I hugged my arms to myself. It was getting colder. The hallway… was it shorter than I remembered?

I stopped and blinked, the hall now ended suddenly in a door, not one of the blank wooden ones, identical and interchangeable, found all over the wing. This was a huge, rusted, metal monstrosity that filled the hall in front of me, engraved with abstract shapes and patterns too eroded for me to make out.

There wasn't a doorknob either, just a rusted metal ring.

"Okay… okay…" I repeated. "Okay, freaky shit, but that's okay."

I took a deep breath, "This is okay."

My expectations of Alchemilla were completely destroyed at this point, I was very, very tired of feeling scared. Now… now I was surprised, my fists were clenched- I was starting to feel angry.

"Okay." I said, my voice still sounded thin and quiet, I coughed and tried again. "Okay!" … better?

I reached for the ring, gripped it and pulled… The door didn't budge.

Oh, oh yeah. It probably weighed twice what I did. That wouldn't work. I stared at the door, feeling silly. It was only a door…

I looked back the way I'd come. There were other doors, also transformed. One was slowly metamorphosing, from metal plate into a dangerous-looking rusty red grate. The walls were almost completely transformed at this point, only a few lonely trails of paint curled into the air, and then into nothingness, the lights flickering cast it in strange shadows. Chains still hung overhead, clanking as they lengthened.

I started walking back the way I came, shivering a little. It was cold.

"Hello? Anybody?"

I stopped to listen, then pinged my power- seeking out the familiar. Anything at all. It was odd, I'd never had to deal with interference before. The strange double-feeling persisted, the echo and static. Which was actually a little worrying. Usually my power filled in gaps and changes over time, but this wasn't clearing, not even a little.

If anything, it was getting worse. It almost felt like it was surging, or something was.

"Hello?"

My head snapped up, "Blake?"

"Over here!"

I ran down the hall. The turns were all wrong, the distance was wrong for the group meeting room, for the administrative offices.

"Blake!" I shouted.

"Here!"

He was behind one of the rusted grate-doors, the prison bar doors. I ran to him and grabbed the bars, "Blake, what's happening?"

"It's Labyrinth." He ground out, "Usually her blowups aren't this big, but I guess we were due one. Fuck this week."

That name again, "Labyrinth?"

"Real strong." Blake said, "Brings imaginary worlds to life."

I blinked at that. Imaginary worlds? Why would someone want to bring an even more hellish version of Alchemilla to life?

I stopped and thought a moment. That feeling was back- the sense of a distant pressure building.

"-get her to calm down. It always makes Labyrinth's fits worse."

"Blake, something's about to happen." I said.

He eyed me warily, "Thinker intuition?"

"I don't know, her power's screwing with mine, it's making it hard to read things, but it feels like this is going to get worse."

There it was again, a surge- rust trails snaked down the walls- and suddenly they bent, like we were standing in a tunnel or a pipe. I heard water drip somewhere.

"Damnit!" Blake swore.

Water was trickling down the middle of the hallway-turned-pipe now.

"Is it going to end? Does she stop?" I asked.

"If she falls asleep it retreats closer to her," Blake said, "But she's on the other side of the Wing, and they move her around to reduce how strong she can get. This shouldn't be possible."

The trickle was a steady steam around my ankles now, and I could hear a distant roaring. The water level was rising.

"Blake!"

There was a surge, I could feel it, and suddenly the water was at chest height. My feet lost purchase on the ground, and in a panic filled moment I started to move.

Blake's eyes widened, and he thrust his arm through the bars, but I was already too far away, I tried to grab his hand all the same.

I could feel his power, gravity surging to grip me. But that strange echo that had made my power unreliable acted on him too, I could feel it. Instead of arresting my movement, I started to slip further and further away, carried by the flow.

"Kid!"

I was carried down the pipe, moving faster and faster, I went under. I broke the surface coughing and sputtering. The last thing I saw before I was dunked again, was Blake gripping the bars with both hands, the water up to his shoulders, fountaining and spraying around him as he fought the pressure.

Then I was under again, and swept away.

Last edited: Apr 16, 2017

113

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Creche 2.1

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#12

Creche 2.1

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 10 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 10: Creche 2-1, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

It was wet, and so dark.

Blind to everything but the path and flow of the water, for the first two seconds I was lost in a confused jumble, up was down, down was up, then right. I was spinning down the chute.

I tucked in my arms and legs and abandoned myself to the path of the pipe as I was washed down, and steeled myself through every painful bump against the walls.

My lungs burned.

The first time I surfaced, I spluttered and gasped, and coughed. I swallowed as much water as air. The second time I was dazed, black swimming in the corners of my eyes, and my hair in my face.

When the water finally slowed, I was half drowned, floating on top of the stream that was almost a river. I don't know how I ended face up and lived through that. Powers, maybe.

I floated to a stop on a gravel bank, and it was a few minutes before I gathered my wits, shook off my daze and sat up.

I hurt. I hurt, all of me.

I couldn't see much, but a beam of light filtered from high above. I had come to rest in a cavern, it was wide and open, the ceiling damp and dripping. Spires of stone stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

The cavern extended away in two directions, the cavern wall was separated into a maze of rocky ledges and smooth, water worn stone formations. Somewhere the rusted pipes and concrete had become a cave.

Under these, an empty expanse widened and widened until the flow was thin over the ledge into the dark bellow, I was lucky it became too shallow for me to float over the edge. I wasn't sure I was in Alchemilla any more, but that strange echo was still there. Labyrinth's power was still all around me, still active, still working. Stronger now, I thought… I might even be closer to her.

I gathered my legs under me and shivered, then stood up. I weaved a little on my feet, dizzy. Nauseous. I folded, my knees giving out under me and I fell to all fours in the water. I vomited up all the water I'd swallowed, until the heaves didn't bring anything more up.

I tried to stand again, and this time managed to keep my feet. I waded until the water was not around my knees anymore, but splashed with every step. The air was cool and moist, and raised goosebumps on my arms. Cold.

Where did I go now?

I stepped over to the wall, trailing my hand as a guide in the murk until I stood over the edge of the lethargic waterfall. Far below, the water turned to misty darkness. I knew the bottom had to be there, I could hear it. Water fell, water was everywhere.

A glance back the way I came. Then up, into the rocks and formations overhead. Labyrinth was well named, I'd never find my way through all of that.

I stopped and planted my feet. I pushed on my power, turned the dial up, flipped the switch, listened. I didn't have a target, didn't have a destination, so I simply set it loose, pulled back my filters and let it tell me what it did.

Labyrinth's power was still working, things were still moving.

Voices echoed in the cavern.

I stopped and listened, shouting. That sounded like… Regalia.

Well, he was the only person I knew that treated shouting like it was a conversational tone of voice. With that, I squared my shoulders and looked up, plotting a path up the stratum ledges. Up it was.

I gripped the lowest stone shelf, it was above chest level, and jumped up. I got my elbows over the rock and tried to pull myself up. After a few seconds of straining I started using my legs, feeling for a toehold.

As I kicked uselessly, my power filled in gaps, the location of the rock around me- then it surprised me. I started becoming more aware of my center of balance, or the way my arms were positioned, my leverage… The water on the rock, how slippery it was…

Awareness expanded, and I pulled myself up onto the ledge. Huh.

"Not so hard…"

The awareness remained. Weird. I'd used my power on myself before, but… not like that. Weird… but… I liked it.

I looked for another handhold, and pulled myself up. It wasn't easy, but… It was doable. I reached out for another handhold, pulled myself up. I was breathing hard, but I could see, just looking at them, which I could reach. Which I could pull myself up. How to go about it.

I scaled the rock wall with increasing ease. At the top my arms were shaking, and I was breathing hard, but it was more my being out of shape- I went right up the wall. I knew exactly where my fingerholds were, where I could brace myself, where I could wedge my fingers and toes to hold me. I was in complete control of my balance.

"Wow." I breathed, hands on my knees, "Wow." I started to laugh, then I really laughed. For the first time, using my power had left me… giddy. Really, truly giddy. That had been fun!

"I said quiet! I hear someone."

I stopped laughing, and turned. I didn't see anyone. The voice had been flat and mechanical. Basilisk.

I had that feeling again, the sensation of building, mounting. Labyrinth's power was accumulating again. There was a change coming. I took a step back from the drop.

I spotted Basilisk a moment later, she was poking her head out of one of the tunnels further back and was soaked to the skin, her hair was plastered to her neck and scalp and it looked black in the gloom. Her orange jumpsuit looked brown. "Oh. It's you." Basilisk squinted at me, which looked strange with the bulky, vented mask she wore.

I took a small step back as the walls rippled with bricks and leaves. Basilisk's eyes widened a moment before her face vanished in an emerging tree's branches.

"What-" I managed before I followed suit with a squawk.

The terraces and stratified cave wall were transforming, branches and leaves, emerging. Brick, stone, walls emerged from the floor in crumbled heaps.

I watched in wonder as the ruin of an old castle emerged from the walls all around me. Trees shot towards the sky, grass emerged from the stone and water in a wave of gold and green. A village, perched on a rocky landscape accented with long grasses and tall trees, but still inside the cave?

Was the cave natural, maybe a large room in Alchemilla before Labyrinth had changed it? Was there a limit to how much Labyrinth could effect the landscape, the… the layout of her worlds?

"Fuuuuuuuck!" Basilisk's metallic scream roused me as she tumbled through the canopy of a tree. She'd rode up some twenty feet toward the sky, this was complicated by the tree itself hanging over what was now a ten-foot drop. I jumped to try and reach her, catch her- a move that in retrospect was pointless. She was too far away, and anyway she had to weigh more than I did.

What was I going to do, cushion her fall?

Basilisk landed hard, but it was on a grassy patch- well, a muddy grassy patch. It barely resembled the sluggish river that it had been, and fortunately for her. Not far to fall, but far enough if she was less lucky. It was a very soft landing.

Picking my way across the rocks proved difficult. The tall grass was deceptive, hiding pitfalls in the crags. But it was getting easier to tell where. I wondered if it was because I was growing familiar to the world-changing nature of Labyrinth's power, or the world itself, something else.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Basilisk was now almost entirely brown, with mud, and lying prone, glaring up at me from the shallow puddle she had fallen in.

"I'm not dead," She grit out, paused a beat and then continued more quietly, "I might have sprained my ankle."

She was really lucky, actually. The mud pit was in one of those crags in the ground. There were rocks on three sides. If she'd fallen just a little differently, she could have been seriously hurt.

I squatted at the edge of the pit, on the rock, and offered my hand. Basilisk hesitated, staring at it like it might bite her.

"Come on, I don't think it matters if I want to get muddy at this point." I said, "It's gonna happen."

Basilisk's brow furrowed a little, like my response was not the one she'd been expecting, but she reached up and took my hand-

-Induced mutagenic effect. Vector limited. Provokes uncontrolled tumorous alterations in biological organisms registering her voice-

-and hauled her up and out.

It was interesting. Beside the hints pinging off her power, describing it and how it worked, I could also sense her center of balance, how she moved, and my own balance in relation. How wet the rocks were under my feet.

Basilisk took a wobbly step and I let go of her hand. I'd gotten her out, but now that I had her, I didn't know what to do with her.

"Hello?" I ventured, "You got swept down here too? By the water?"

Basilisk shrugged listlessly, "Yeah." She sighed, "That other guy too, he's here somewhere."

Other guy? Oh. Regalia, maybe. I glanced up the leafy cliff. The trees were still growing, taller and taller. High above, the cave ceiling was folding away into branches, sunlight filtered through the leaves. The borders of the cave were eroding into a larger space

I had no idea how to go about getting back. If things kept changing like this, maybe I couldn't.

"Do you want to look for a way back?" I asked, when I realized the silence had lingered just a bit too long, "Or… we could wait here for security to look for us."

"Labyrinth's worlds don't last. Everything always goes away when she goes to sleep."

That didn't really answer my question. Though maybe it kind of did. If the world would eventually fade away, then staying put made sense. Better than risking falling into those crags…

I gazed over at the moldering castle ruin. I hadn't been outside since arriving at Alchemilla, and the rocky landscape had a lonely, solemn beauty that would have arrested my attention even before four walls, a ceiling, and a floor became the extent of my world.

Basilisk sank to the stone, sitting and staring at her feet, "Might as well just sit here. I don't have anywhere to go."

After a moment, I sat down beside her. We waited.

I glanced at Basilisk.

Previously, my experiences with Mimi, Heather, Nick, and Charnel came to mind. But also, I remembered Benny, and Elephant. The horror and the heart-crushing fear, the smell of copper. I hesitated, I dithered. While my previous attempts making friends had been… well, not successful, but not disasters, I faltered.

Basilisk glanced at me, her eyes hooded. Where Nick had responded to me with caution, and Mimi with mercurial change, Basilisk was guarded. Considering. This only undermined my confidence, and I drew in my shoulders.

She looked at me, and she glared, "What's your power?"

I leaned back on the heels of my feet, trying not to show how intimidated I felt. That divot in benny's head lurked in a dark corner in the back of my mind. That feeling as I felt him ebbing, his body slowly shutting down, even as I struggled to help him. I swallowed, and clasped my hands to keep them from shaking.

"I- I- I- I feel things, I can touch them and I know things about them." I stuttered.

Basilisk stared at me, "Fucking figures." She stood, jumping to her feet. She started to pace, walking from one end of our shared rock to the other with quick, angry strides.

"Fucking Thinker, of course! I bet you'll get out. You'll get to go to prom and get a driver's license and become a doctor or a- a- whatever!" Basilisk growled. Or, it sounded like she was growling. It was hard to tell when she was Darth Vader.

I edged back, staring. My power was pinging danger, but only distantly. She was angry, sad, anxious, frustrated. Guilty?

"You'll find something. Be a fucking hero. What am I supposed to do? I can't use my power for anything!"

I concentrated, pulling off anything I could. She was taller than me, older than me. More solidly built. But…

She… she wasn't dangerous. She was… she was sane, I realized. Sane, but her power was deadly and had no off switch. She finished pacing and stopped, standing and staring off into the distance- I followed her gaze, the ruined castle.

Sane, but frustrated, and maybe dangerous. If her mask ever came off, if anyone ever heard her voice. Had anyone ever heard her power? Probably. I felt, suddenly, a kind of kinship in her.

I hesitated to speak, but she was hurting. And I knew what that felt like.

"I killed people too." I said.

She stared at me a moment, then turned away angrily.

I sighed and looked away, out over the rocky field, the ruined walls. My gaze came to settle on the castle, the hollowed-out towers and the still standing keep with the trailing carpet of ivy and moss.

I fixed on that. In this hauntingly beautiful landscape, it stood out.

"Do you want to explore the castle?" I asked.

"Fuck off. I'm… going to look for that loud idiot." She paused, "Can't believe I said that."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

Well, Basilisk said she did not want to explore the castle but I could feel her moving as I neared it, in an indistinct, distant way. Circling around in the crags… not moving further from me... Following me?

Was touching someone enough to gain awareness of where they were? I wondered if I'd been getting faster uptake from my powers since this strange, surreal episode began.

Especially compared to the initial confusion and obstruction. If felt like I might be.

I wandered across the crumbling pile of stone at the base of the outer wall there was a wide trench, I guess it was the moat? The castle drawbridge was just a collection of rotted timbers at the bottom of the now, but I forded the ditch it filled, and scaled the other side like a mountain goat… or maybe a cat… Something that scaled walls and moved over obstacles well. A fly or a lizard.

Okay. I was used to this. I could handle any weirdness Alchemilla threw my way. Up I went.

It was so quiet. With a landscape as barren and rocky, and wild as this I kept expecting wind, or the sound of birds crying lonely in the distance, or insects. But there was nothing, hardly a sound at all.

Inside the castle walls, I stopped and turned every which way, staring up at the ramparts and the… that was the right word, right?

The walls were half-collapsed, and the keep and towers were missing their roofs, there were no doors across the Keep's broad threshold. There were trees and bushes growing all among the stones, one tower was crowned with trees, and the courtyard was cast into shadow. Flowers waved among the grass on the walls, white, yellow. Red and blue.

And I was not alone.

Charnel sat in a gently sunken bay, surrounded by long grass and flowers, a few paces in front of where the Keep's front gate might have stood. The courtyard was ringed with the roots of toppled pillars worn smooth by the elements. She was asleep, her silver-white hair gathered in a long rope that trailed to her feet- I hesitated to wake her, but even as I stood there she lifted her head.

"Ah. I must've drifted off." She blinked slowly. Her eyelids still had that blacken-eyed heavily bagged look, all the blood vessels standing out under her perfectly white skin.

"Hi."

"Hello, again, Taylor." Those strange segmented fingers clacked lightly as she folded her hands.

I stared at her a long moment, mulling over what Blake had said. She knows more than she lets on. A question nagged me, "What did you mean, what you said before, that we 'are swords and knives'?" I asked.

Charnal blinked again, she spoke very slowly and clearly, "It is the way of things."

Another of those slow, unsettling blinks, "We are made human by power. We surpass humanity, by power. And by power, we lose our humanity again. The power will rule you. It rules all of us. It is the way of things."

I puzzled on that, "Doctor Selmy tells me to not let my power rule me, change who I am." I said, "A parahuman is a human with a power. Not a power with a human."

"And yet we are chosen by power." Charnel replied, "And we are here because we were overcome by it. We did not possess it, so it possessed us in turn. As we do not possess it, we cannot leave. Those with power can do anything."

I frowned. That sounded familiar.

A sat down beside Charnel, and looked around the courtyard. The sky was opening up above the towers, in every direction, great walls of layered and marbled stone. It was like being at the bottom of a massive canyon, or a crater.

Labyrinth's power was… I'd heard of parahumans working on a scale like this, as profoundly as this. But to see it in action… Was she effecting the entire Alchemilla compound? This had to cover miles.

And, it was beautiful. Bleak and beautiful and grand; peaceful, stark and empty.

I could see hanging terraces of flowers and trees. Cathedral walls, their windows gone, leaving behind a latticework of empty clerestory. Statues, great hands and faces weathered by rain and wind. A ruined village on the canyon wall just below the castle walls, trees growing out of the houses. A bell tower. Huge walls, like small cliffs themselves. An enormous tree, like a forest unto itself.

And high, high above the canyon walls I saw the incongruous trail of an airplane passing through the clouds.

I wondered how the staff would deal with a situation like this. I followed that thought further and wondered how the patients would react. This would sow complete chaos-

Oh no. Sveta.

Sveta… was a sweet girl, and didn't deserve the problems she had to deal with.

But the power she had did make her dangerous, despite her nature and intentions. If these changes continued… if they were as widespread and profound as they were now, and if they continued to change and expand…

She would get out, might already be out. She was a voluntary patient, she understood how dangerous her power was, but it operated without her input.

"I need to find Labyrinth!" I stood, then wondered what I expected to do.

Charnel stared at me, blinking slowly. "I do not know where she is."

I stared up at the canyon walls, at the castle ramparts and the ruined town bellow it, and I reached, feeling out the ebb and flow of Labyrinth's world. I could feel it.

"I don't either, but I bet I can find her."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

It was difficult. I hadn't met Labyrinth to begin with, and the world she created made sensing my surroundings difficult. But the arrangement of her valley was a basin, and I was not yet at the lowest point.

I guessed she would be there, in the very lowest point, in the center. The castle overlooked the town, there, the town filled the bottom in a tangle of stone and leaves. It was difficult to gauge its size looking at it, as a forest encroached too heavily. Though the ground was not level at any point, a gorge cut deeply across my path, I looked for a way across.

I followed the slope down, until it became a path and I was looking at a covered stone bridge that crossed a gorge and passed into the town. It was heavy and supported by thick, square columns. I picked my way up the rocks, along a narrow trail, until I found myself inside. Inside, water flowed up over my ankles and feet. Cold. The bridge was an aqueduct.

"Huh." I shivered, that water had reminded me that I was wearing scrubs and not much else.

I followed the flow of the river, until the water opened out into a stone-lined pool and I waded out. My socks were soaked now, so I sat beside the pool, stripped them off and wrung them out, and examined my surroundings. The pool bordered one side of a wide plaza, maybe once a market, now grassy and broken with tree roots. Old swords rose among the weeds, stabbed into the ground, or lying fallen in the grass.

"Hello?" I called. I listened a moment, then breathed in, "Hello! Is anyone there?"

My shout was muffled in the silence of the town. It was like a blanket, smothering everything, even the sound of the water falling into the pool was muted. It was eerie.

I started walking, carefully picking my way over the plaza, through the timbers and rusty blades.

Inside the town, the streets were cobbled, but often broken by tree roots or covered in moss, or buried. The walls were stone, and covered in reaching ivy and moss. Wooden carts stood abandoned, and all was still and shadowed in dappled green under the walls and branches. Broken stone and brickwork was everywhere. The streets were narrow, and doorways so close, and even the plaza was small and confined. It was very claustrophobic, so that I could barely see the sky above me.

Leaving the plaza, I headed down, and soon I could sense I was not so alone. I smelled smoke.

"Can anyone hear me?" I called, not holding much hope of a reply.

I found a burning cart at the head of a stair. Still deeper into the heart of the town I found more signs of fire. Seared ivy. Smoldering wood. One of the houses was filled with flames.

Labyrinth's world started to take on a darker edge. The walls pressed in. The moss was replaced by sickly green algae dried and caked on the walls, and the plants grew sparser. The light faded until there was no sky overhead. I head water dripping again, and I had to watch my steps.

Then I found an open door, singed and knocked from rusted hinges. Once it had been covered with carvings and symbols worn down with time. I stepped beyond it, and everything opened up.

I was in a large room. A pillared foyer, I realized, dominated by a statue of a barefoot woman in a robe… Beyond the foyer was a chapel. Here there was light, cast by flickering torches sconced in the walls, and held by statues lining the walls, knights and more women in robes, and clustered above the altar.

"Um… hello?" I said, warily. The altar was a large plinth of stone on top of a small rise of steps, and a girl was seated on the altar. She… reminded me of Charnel, so colorless and still. But I could see her breathing…

There was a restful air about her as she sat, staring into space with her head tilted just so- like she was listening to distant music. Her eyes did not track me as I approached, and her hands stayed folded in her lap.

"Hello?"

I carefully moved up the steps. In the torchlight, her pallor and hair was cast in yellow and orange hues. Her scrubs were orange too, she almost looked like an orange statue herself, very out of place among the towering ones that flanked her. But serene, peaceful. She did not look dangerous.

She was… well, small.

Thin, with long, straight pale hair. A particular platinum blonde, almost white, colorless. Her skin was pale too. That particular pallor that Elephant also had, from living inside without much sun.

"Labyrinth?"

There was a pulse in response to my voice, or maybe to the name. Not a big one- not a swell of power like the ones that had transformed Alchemilla so drastically. More like a shiver through the air and the stone. Like an echo of a distant thunderclap far away.

I shrank back and waited, holding my breath. But that was it, she didn't respond. She did not even move.

This girl had to be Labyrinth.

"Labyrinth?" I asked again, more quietly.

She was silent, and as the pulse did not come again, I reached out slowly, touched her shoulder.

"Laby-

Then, everything changed.

There was a spike of fear, of terror, from Labyrinth; so intense I felt it too and threw myself backwards. The world changed in a ripple, a wave gathering force as it moved out from her and into the world she had built that I could feel as it passed me.

The statues and torches and stone altar were torn away, the changes filled in the space they had been- and plunged the world into darkness. I was blind, and disoriented. Turned around as everything rearranged itself. The smell of leaves and stone were replaced by a musty smell, damp, and rusted metal.

Light flickered on, harsh florescent lighting guttering out, then on again over my head. The church had transformed into a nightmare. Stains trailed down padded walls, chains and thick bundles of barbed wire hung from the ceiling in curtains; the floor was concrete, studded with barbs of broken glass and needles.

In the middle of it, Labyrinth sat on the floor, staring at me mutely. Flickering in and out of sight with the lights, pale like a ghost.

My heart hammered in my chest where I'd sprawled on the glass. I could feel warmth spreading down one arm- my leg- I'd cut myself.

And Labyrinth sat there, mutely staring at me.

"Uh… Hi." I said, "Um. You scared me."

Labyrinth said nothing.

"I… I guess I scared you too." I added, "Sorry." I picked myself back up, carefully not taking my eyes off Labyrinth. But apart from that first outburst of power, she… well, she seemed fairly calm. I thought. It was hard to tell.

"So, uh. Hello." I stood, still looking at her, "The doctors call me Auspice."

Labyrinth blinked once.

"Um, call me Taylor?"

Labyrinth shrank back when I raised my hand. Her hands fisted in her scrubs so tightly her shoulders were shaking.

"Oh… oh, hey…"

Labyrinth shrank back when I stepped forward again, and I offered my hand, palm up, talking very quietly. "It's okay… It's okay."

She stared back at me, but now I didn't know what to say. "Um. I actually came looking for you." I said, "You don't know how to turn, uh, all this off, do you?"

Labyrinth stared at me, for a moment her mouth opened like she was about to speak, but aborted the action without a sound.

"You can't talk?"

She just stared back at me, blinking slowly.

"Okay." That was problematic, but hardly her fault, "Well, I can't sleep. We're both special like that." If Labyrinth couldn't turn it off, I was stuck.

I… I could try knocking her out… I glanced at her, sitting there looking at me, trusting. No, I didn't think that was an option. Not yet anyway. Right now, I didn't know for certain that she had done anything beyond inconveniencing the staff. I hoped.

Besides, forcibly knocking her out might not actually shut off the effect she had on the asylum, powers didn't have to make sense like that.

And… the memory of copper leapt to mind once again before I relentlessly thrust it down and away. No, not risking that.

"Well, we really need to get out of here. Try and find one of the doctors. Can you walk?" Labyrinth did not move at first, there was an aborted motion in her hands, "I can help you up, if you don't mind?"

I stood and reached out, and this time Labyrinth didn't shy away. I took that as a good sign, and took her hand-

-Creation. Crafts dimensional pockets. Imposes their shape on surroundings. Sculpting. Two threads of consciousness, one manages her worlds, one manages her body. Uneven distribution, fluctuates between-

"Oh, sorry." I blinked, "Zoned out there for a bit. My power kind of reads off people when I touch them, I guess I should have said something."

Labyrinth blinked.

Right, so now I had Labyrinth, where did I take her from here? I looked at the flickering lights, and the chains and rusty wire. The jagged barbs on the floor. The room was square and a hatch closed off one end of the room. It was so heavily rusted I doubted I would be able to open it.

I gave it a try, grabbing the latch and tugging on it once.

"Can… can you change it back to the castle? It was easier to walk."

Labyrinth blinked back at me and… I felt something. The flagstones and torches did not return however. Instead the hatch crumbled away into dust, rusting away in an instant.

"Oh. Okay, thanks." I managed, "That works."

I blinked at a sudden tug. Labyrinth had latched on, one hand fisted on my sleeve. Still no expression on her face that I could place, but she was tense.

"Is everything okay?" Her shoulders were shaking again, "It's all right…"

Strange, the world had completely transformed, but I could still smell smoke.

Last edited: Apr 19, 2017

107

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks Interlude - Annette

View content

Racheakt

Racheakt

Huh...

Jan 17, 2017

#11

Interlude - Annette

Ao3: Cage - Chapter 9 - Racheakt - Worm - Wildbow [Archive of Our Own]

FFN: Cage Chapter 9: Interlude - Annette, a worm fanfic FanFiction

{Name for a young swan.}

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

"Remember, your papers are due next month, and your rough drafts need to be on my desk or in my inbox by midnight Monday. I won't be available after class today, so if you have questions, you are going to need to talk to me Monday morning at eight. Everyone have a good weekend."

Her class stood and gathered their books, talked in murmurs, and drifted towards the auditorium exit.

Normally, when her last class let let out, Annette took her time as well, stopping to hear her students' questions, voiced complaints and ideas. But today she was on a timer. Which was why, when Lindsey Keine peeled away from the rest, following her, she gave a heartfelt sigh. "Professor, Professor Hebert?"

"Lindsey, I don't have a lot of time today." Annette said, "I've posted my schedule this month. You knew this was coming."

"I know professor, I know, I just-"

"Walk with me." Annette sighed, and Lindsey matched her pace, a brisk walk that had Lindsey trotting to match her longer stride.

"I wanted to do something with, with advent." Lindsey said, "Parahumans have impacted every level of life the world over, and I wanted to compare something before and after the advent-"

Linsey was a good student. Bright, motivated, a little more technical than creative- but that had its place. She had a habit of completely disregarding any guidelines in favor of whatever creative epiphanies she did have when she happened to have any.

"Lindsey, have you discussed this new direction with your group?" Annette cut her off.

"I- um- I did bounce some ideas... Not the full thing, no."

"If you want to change your project that drastically, you'll need to talk to the rest of your group and then email me. Like I said, I will be accepting email submissions. And, if you get it to me by the Monday deadline, I'll accept it."

"Yes Professor." Lindsey deflated a bit.

"See you Monday." Annette said, and left her behind.

Lindsey wasn't a bad kid, and certainly not a terrible student, she just needed to work with her classmates more. What really grated on Annette's nerves was that she was a bit of a cape geek, a tendency which reminded Annette of... of Taylor. It was unfair to think of her students- any of them -that way, but it was what it was.

She sighed.

Annette kept up the pace out into the parking lot, where grey clouds lent the August afternoon a dim cast, found her ageing blue ford, and pulled out and into the afternoon collage traffic.

She headed north, trying to ignore the gang tags on the billboards, a crowned skull painted over blocky letters- E88. The college disrict was left behind as she turned on to an overpass, and all of Brockton spread out under her. The Medhall building towered to the left, and out to her right, the water of the Bay.

Annette headed north towards the Boardwalk, and there the stylized dragon head of the ABB clashed with the coy wink of the Fae. In some places the tags layered on top of one another in a confused jumble. The Teeth's bloody grin, E88's pretentious gothic lettering and swastikas, ABB with dragons and kanji. A few rarer tags, belonging to minor gangs that tried their hand and failed. And the crowned skull. The Marche was as emblematic of Brockton Bay as the shipping industry it was built on and the Marquis had held court in the Bay for twenty years and more. Even while the shipping industry began to struggle, parahumans, and the Marquis, defined Brockton.

As if drawn by that line of thinking, Annette let her gaze drift from the road, out over the boats... Danny always loved boats...

Out on the water, the Protectorate rig dwarfed the boats, towering like a collection of dull grey building blocks on stilts. There was a symbol on the city-side of the rig, a shield and wings, stars and stripes and a motto in Latin. The headquarters of the Protectorate East-North-East.

Annette turned her eyes back to the road before she caused an accident.

She turned off the overpass, followed the turnoff back to ground level. The boardwalk was part of the nicer side of town, with orderly storefronts and neighborhoods that were clean and graffiti-free. Closer to the water it was glitzy, in a way no other part of town was, the piers and beach and the promenade were always busy, even now as the tourist season wound down. The Prom was always open and always lit; where factories had closed and the economic slump drawn on, the Boardwalk had remained vibrant.

Gang signs were not nonexistent, but they were rarer, and not found everywhere. As the nicer side of town, the Protectorate had a regular presence here. And where there were gang signs, the dragons were replaced by the winking eyes- ever since the Fae had pushed the ABB out a few weeks before.

Annette was not sure what to think of the Fae.

Lung was a beast. The face you thought of when a new vigilante was made an example of, when automatic fire erupted somewhere far away in the night, or when a girl disappeared... The ABB being gone from the boardwalk was a good thing. But, as always, another gang had replaced them- and the Boardwalk was still holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Annette turned off the main road, into a neighborhood with trees and two story houses. She pulled up to a house with a garage, a tree in the front yard, and grass just beginning to need cutting; where a girl sat pensively on the front porch, a small suitcase sat beside her. Her hair was red and came to her shoulders- she was pretty. It was almost a juxtaposition whenever Annette saw her and Taylor together- Emma was the pretty one, Taylor was the tall one.

Before, Emma had been full of energy, and it had never failed to bleed over into those around her. Annette had seen that in action, with Taylor. Bringing out smiles in her on her low days, after Danny died. She wasn't smiling now, but she was moving. Fidgeting.

Emma looked up, "Aunt Annette!" she jumped to her feet and walked over as Annette opened the door. She was wearing a comfortable blouse, jeans, with a handbag and sneakers. The drive would be several hours and the stay overnight at a hotel while they visited, followed by the drive home Sunday. Annette's own suitcase was already in the trunk.

"I need to talk to Zoe before we head out, all right?" Annette asked, and popped the trunk for Emma.

"Sure." Emma shrugged, lugging her suitcase to the car.

Annette opened the door and stepped in the the Barnes' household. The front hall's welcome mat muffled the sound of her flats. Zoe was reading at the kitchen table, papers arrayed in front of her.

"Hey Zoe." Annette greeted tiredly.

Zoe stood up, dropping the pamphlet she'd been reading on top of the pile in front of her, "Ready to head out?"

"Yeah, Emma's waiting, just wanted to see if you'd heard anything."

After Danny had died, the girls had gravitated together much as Annette and Zoe had. And after her close brush with death, and what that had cost Taylor, Annette had subscribed to the neighborhood watch, and Zoe had followed suit. Annette recognized the pamphlet on the table. She had already read it once, but felt drawn to pick it up regardless.

'Know Where You Are:

The area extending west of Ferry Station North, including most of the Boardwalk and the factories, is belived to be under claim by the parahuman gang 'The Fae', after a successful upset of the ABB.

The Fae are led by woman acting under the moniker 'Ingenue'. she is belived to be a Trump with emotional and mental manipulation capabilities. Ingenue has a history of acting indirectly, directing her victims in violent rampages. Ingenue is considered highly dangerous and capable of acting both overtly and covertly.

Her ulterior motives are unknown. However, Ingenue is known as an accomplished actress and has engaged in acts of corporate espionage and fraud. Due to the subtle nature of her powers, anyone experiencing violent or suicidal impulses, sudden mood swings, sudden fixations, or other erratic behavior, is advised to seek help from law enforcement, emergency services, and the PRT immediately.

The pamphlet went on to list the known parahuman members of the Fae- Tattletale, a teenager or young woman and relative unknown, speculated to be a Thinker; and Bitch, a girl who controlled monsterous dogs. The pamphlet also noted The Fae possessed a small core organization; either mercenaries, or other hardened sorts recruited for muscle.

Annette had done her research, Bitch had a public record, and a name, Racheal Lindt. She had a long list of foster homes, and had assault, robbery, and homicide on her public record. It struck her as odd that a minor's record would be public like that... But it wasn't something she could use to help Taylor right now. Annette sighed and dropped the pamphlet to the table.

"Any word?"

Zoe shook her head, "Still waiting. There's some talk that the Butcher's rallying to try something, but no telling if the targets will be the Fae, or ABB, or the Marquis."

"It's better than nothing."

Brockton had one of the densest parahuman populations in the United States. Possibly in the first world. There were demographics more heavily weighted towards parahumans in the third world, in Africa and the Middle East, but not in America. In addition to the gangs, there were fourteen known independents in Brockton at the moment. Harsh Mistress, Iron Falcon, Oaf, Vitiator, Saurian... nine members of the Brockton Bay Brigade. The Brockton Bay Brigade was the most visible of the home-brew Brockton white hats. They were photogenic, strong, famous, and after more than a decade continued to fight the gangs with some success. The independents tended to rally around them, a loose alliance of sorts headed by Lady Photon's charisma, Manpower's strength, and Brandish's intensity.

But... Taylor had always been one who stood a little apart from the rest. If Zoe haden't been Annette's best friend, would she have become friends with Emma? Would she have found anyone, or would she have remained alone through her childhood? And, now that she was a parahuman, who would look out for Taylor when- not if -she came home?

The life of an independant parahuman in Brockton didn't have any hard numbers. The national average was five months, without being recruited into a gang, joining the Protectoarate or a larger hero organization. Many, very many, died young and anonymous.

Zoe's hand settled on Annette's shoulder, startling her out of the dark turn her thoughts had taken.

"She'll be all right, Ann." Zoe said, "Go. Emma's been looking forward to this for weeks, and I know you have too." Zoe punched Annette lightly in the arm, "Got 'em?"

Annette smiled a little, "I got 'em."

"Good, now get going Ann. Taylor needs you."

(•͈•͈ ﾂ

"You ready, Emma?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Annette pulled out, and they drove north, headed for the highway, and then for the interstate. Annette asked about school, and sports, and Emma gave short replies. Annette found herself withdrawing into ther own thoughts as well.

Capes had interested Annette, when she was younger. Why wouldn't they have? They were the great mystery off the century, unfolding in front of her eyes.

She had watched old tapes as a wide-eyed teenager, of the advent, the fiery meteors falling from the sky, appearing midair, vanishing mid-fall. The strange lights and clouds, the colored sky. Lightening and the fire, shadows and shapes, hands and ghostly figures. The plumes of smoke and fire, the crash and rolling rumble with each impact.

She had watched with chills and goosebumps and wide eyes.

Parahumans were huge and frightening, or inspiring, and always drew you in. People flocked to them, good people, bad people, and people that didn't care which they were- and a parahuman could say whatever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, because they appeared powerful. Larger than life. Mysterious.

It had always seemed a distant thing, something that happened on the news. Or a place you heard about but had never been.

All that changed when she became the parent of a parahuman. Suddenly it wasn't a curiosity.

After Taylor triggered, Annette had thrown herself into learning as much about the world of parahumans as she could. It hadn't been some far-off colorful fantasy world any more. Not something that she could pick up when she was interested and put down when she wanted. It was Taylor's life now, she had to be prepared for what that entailed.

Annette was painfully reminded her of her college years, Venus Dawn had been like that, Lustrum's idea of a new feminism. Her movement. It had been all the rage on campus, and the gravity had pulled Annette in for a while.

She had gone to a few meetings, put up posters and handed out flyers once or twice, but it hadn't been about the idea- it had been about being part of what someone with powers was doing. She would have said that she was a supporter of Lustrum, but would have had difficulties pinpointing a particular idea that Lustrum espoused that she really resonated with. Venus Dawn always presented a vague, militant subtext, while many of the women who gravitated to it had genuine grievances, Lustrum always dictated what the result needed to be. So, when her result became insanity, Venus Dawn followed suit.

Annette had been glad that she drifted away from Venus Dawn, before the end. The insanity that had consumed Lustrum and her followers had passed her by.

She had gotten lucky. She'd found Danny.

The highway traffic was sparse leaving Brockton Bay, the rush hour was only starting to pick up, and Annette had most of the road to herself. Emma sat silently, listening to the radio and fiddled with her phone listlessly.

She was nodding out before they crossed the city limits, and sound asleep minutes later.

Annette watched her in the mirrors as she drove. She was pale. Had she lost weight?

Emma was very different from Taylor. They had grown together, and in some ways Annette had raised her as much as Zoe had. But, Annette never understood her the way she could Taylor. Emma was different from Taylor. Taylor was easier, simpler; she was shy, she introverted when confronted, was more comfortable with new books than new people- often hiding behind Emma in unfamiliar situations. Taylor's social circle was borrowed from Emma, and her social growth for as long as Annette had raised her had always been something that followed or emulated Emma's.

The road fell away behind them as Annete drove, signs for Boston began to appear along the highway, Alchemilla was located in the town of Centralia, the location, Annette understood, ideal due to its proximity to Boston and the major Protectorate presence there, but Alchemilla itself was located far outside the city limits. She turned off the interstate, onto the highway, flanked on every side by trees as they snaked their way up hills. With the trees around them, there was an illusion of isolation on that stretch of asphault.

They passed a gas station, and Annette pulled over. They still had half a tank, but Annette liked driving with a full tank.

Emma stirred, blinking sleepily and sitting up straight. Annette was amused to note her trying to hide the trail of drool she brushed away from her chin, "Whuha?"

"Still an hour out." Annette said, "Stopping for gas."

"Oh." Emma had bed head, a tuft stuck up like a ducktail.

Annette started pumping, and leaned against the side of the car, "How's school, Emma?"

Emma said nothing.

Her school year had gotton off to a rocky start, at first it had seemed like she was simply having difficulty making the adjustment from middle school to high school. But then both her parents had both mentioned her withdrawing from them, her lack of enthusiasm, and a reluctance to talk about school in general. She didn't want to participate in any clubs or teams. She had a lot of sick days. It wasn't until Emma can home with a cut lip that Zoe had wondered if Emma was being bullied.

Winslow was not a great school. There were longstanding gang problems, particularly under the ABB. That had hardly changed with the change of territories, the gangs had a presence in most Brockton schools and the fighting out in the streets was repeated in microcosm in the hallways. The recent upset of the ABB's traditional territory sent ripples down through the Brockton underworld's power structure, maybe even into the schools that the gangs recruited from.

Annette consoled herself that it could have been worse, the ABB had been known to pressure pretty girls in high school, trap them with drugs or threats of violence, and force them into prostitution. Some of them vanished and were never heard from again.

Emma had never had a problem making friends, navigating the social circles in middle school, but Winslow was a completely different jungle. The school system was experiencing a resurgence of gang violence as the power structure in Brockton realigned. What would that mean for a lone, pretty girl new to the unfamiliar social landscape?

"You know you can talk to me, Emma?" Annette said, "About anything."

Emma looked out the window, away from her. Her silence made Annette feel still more helpless, and angry. She wasn't sure how to help Emma. She didn't know how to help Taylor, and the helplessness made her feel hollow.

Back on the road, the quiet rumble of the car's engine was the only sound. Emma still wasn't talking, she was withdrawn, her body language defensive, shoulders pulled in.

Annette remembered the last time she had felt afraid for the future. Uncertain.

It had been Danny. They'd met at the height of the Dawn, which made it all the stranger when they hit it off- he was studying maritime economics, she was studying classical literature. They had so little in common.

After the fracas that Venus Dawn had devolved to, Lustrum and several other parahumans had been sent to Baumann Penitentiary. The Birdcage, and Annette had sat watching the television and the news utterly numb. She'd spent a whole week cold, in shock. People had been hurt. People had been killed.

She had been part of it. That had nearly been her.

Danny had pulled her out of that. He'd told her about his life. His temper, that he was afraid of. About his classes. About how trackless he'd felt, growing up. How uncertain he'd felt, thinking about his future. He'd been looking for something to dedicate himself to, like her. He understood, a little, of the shock. Of what she was going through.

Annette shook away the memories.

There were no other cars on the road, and it had been some time since Annette had seen one. Ahead, the turnoff to Alchemilla appeared. Annette took it in, and her eyes widened, she swerved to the side of the road with a squeak of brakes. Emma yelped, But Annette sat at the wheel, staring at the road.

Vines were crawling across the asphalt, the trees moved.

In the distance something rose in a long line over the trees- Annette didn't realize what it was at first. It was a wall of stone, statues, a cliff, all jumbled together- rising out of the ground. Higher, higher, higher still- reaching until it cast a shadow over them.

Annette unfastened her seat belt, opened the door and stepped outside in a trance, staring up at it. The road ahead began to shift. It was suddenly a hill, the trees grew taller, taller. Emma gave a little scream, half out of the car door. Annette stumbled over to her, the shifting incline made walking awkward. She reached Emma and seized her shoulders, hugging her tight. They both huddled by the car as a mountain grew above them.

Annette stared up at the imposing cliff wall, and remembered that behind all the glitter and glamour- behind even the illusion of power, and behind the cultivated image, in the end what parahumans had always done best was make her feel small.

Last edited: Jun 28, 2017

109

Racheakt

Jan 17, 2017

View discussion

1 of 4

Next

Last

Threadmarks

Informational

View content

You must log in or register to reply here.

Share

Worm

Style chooser

Contact us

Terms and rules

Privacy policy

Help

RSS