Well, well, fancy seeing you here. Yes you, I see you there. Here to sample my finest wares? Oh, just browsing, and not even in the good section? Fine, fine, I didn't want to sell you the good stuff anyway!
So we got a bit of action last chapter, sure, and there will be some coming soon (as everyone is guessing). BUT HEY, KNOW WHAT WE NEED MORE OF? THE UNDERSIDERS OF COURSE! I personally like them, and I also suck at writing them, so its a win/win for me to practice.
Thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans for the beta read, and THANK YOU RANDOM READER, I LOVE YOU, GOOD DAY!
2.4 Pertinacity
-
The phone rang.
It startled me because I had forgotten it even existed. Normally it was left sealed when I was being stealthy or performing my criminal activities, but I kept it unsealed at home or when I was out and about in normal clothes. It was more of an honorary thing to me, that the Undersiders had offered to back me up if I was ever in trouble, so I kept the phone open to do the same. If I ever reached a point where I needed to call I doubted a group of teenage supervillains would be much help, or I would feel guilty about pulling them into a bad situation.
It rang again.
Couldn't it just be a telemarketer? Well, only one way to find out.
"Hello?"
"Sup, magical girl?"
Oh, it was Regent. He did say to give him a call at any time, but I thought he was being sarcastic. Supervillains didn't call one another just to talk or hang out, right? "Uh, working out, I guess?"
"You guess; You don't know? Where's my witty comeback at?"
Ah, right, I was currently working out in my room two days after my failed heist at the gallery. Each night after that I tried to go out and do some lower level crime, nothing really fit for Discard to do, but the damned incessant void was gnawing at me. Each time I arrived at my target it was already cleaned out and the PRT had already arrived.
I was getting uneasy and feeling the need to move, so I was working out. My healing ring had a positive effect of boosting the gains from it, as it relieved fatigue and healed the worn out muscles. It wasn't too much, but after a couple days of several-hour long workouts, I was becoming mildly toned. Enough that I wasn't stick thin anymore, at least. Cheating power, you say? I humbly agree.
"Do-over?" I cleared my throat. "Hello?"
Regent chuckled. "Sup, magical girl. Got a moment?"
"Oh, sure, I always got time for a fanboy," I said. It wasn't as good as I could when wearing the costume and in the proper mindset
"There we go. Didn't know magicians needed to work out, though."
"Preparation is key to any performance, and the body is a tool like any other," I replied. It was true and I needed to keep working on it. I wanted to at least be able to put up a struggle physically against someone like Aegis if they ever got ahold of me again, and not just rely on my cards.
"Oh, I agree with you more than you know," said Regent in a sarcastic manner. He did look thin like me, so was that mockery? Grue, on the other hand, was stacked so maybe he hears about it all the time from his teammate. "Hey, hey, this is my phone call! Get your own."
What? "Sounds like a bit of phone dominance is going on."
"Tats is just yelling at me for talking too long, or talking at all. Hey, no, stop it. One sec, Dissy."
This phone call was getting pretty weird, and I wasn't sure where it was going. On one hand, talking to someone was nice, on the other hand, he was a villain. Then again, so was I. Regent and Tattletale were squabbling over something, the phone was being moved around violently, and I think I heard Bitch yell at them to shut up and something about going for a walk.
"Sorry for the hold-up, but I'm currently being held up."
"Okay? I'm sort of wondering why you called at all."
"Can't a guy call just for a chat?"
"It's five bucks for a minute and two for every second after." Those were some solid rates that my imaginary fans would die for. "Two hundred for video."
"How much for a meetup?"
Oh boy, yet another meetup offer. The last one went so well, but I expected it from a schemer like Tattletale. I'd give Regent the benefit of the doubt and at least ask that he clarify it. "Another meetup? A thousand then."
"She said a thousand to help," Regent said to his team? "No, that was just to meet up. No idea about that, one second. Hey, you want to come over for a bit?"
Okay, I wasn't sure if my offer was serious or not, but now that he asked do I say I was joking or actually do it? Would being paid be enough to stave off my craving for a bit? "Wait, to your house? LIke, not in fancy clothes?"
"Oh, yeah that works. No, shush Tats, you'd never get to the point if you were talking. Fine, fine, jeez. Dissy, we may have a bit of a kerfuffle over here." His tone dropped dead serious. "We have a ruined couch and we might have to throw it away. You got anything to fix that?"
Oh, huh. "Actually, I could maybe help with that? No guarantees that it wouldn't turn sentient and eat you, though."
"Would be a definite improv--ow, fuck it's not like he's gonna die anytime soon!"
That a couch and someone dying was somehow related was pretty surprising, especially if a nice couch was being ruined in the process. Wait, no, back up to the fact that someone may have been dying! "Is someone hurt?"
"Yes, me and my arm. Also Grue may be bleeding out, but he's being a baby over it." Pretty sure Tattletale was yelling at him from across the room. "Tats said you had something that helped you heal up after getting curb-stomped. So yeah, wanna come over and hang? It'll be a good time, as long as you can save the couch. Seriously, it's a really good couch."
Regent and his maybe couch obsession aside, this would qualify for one of those times where I'm the backup, right? I was hesitant because meeting them in a public place was one thing, but going into what might be a trap of four villains, one who at the least had pet monsters, sounded like an awful idea. Still, if Grue was about to die and I could prevent it, it was a risk I had to take.
"Okay, where should I go?"
Regent gave me directions to a district deeper into the Docks that wasn't too far from my house and hung up. I grabbed all my cards, making sure the [True Magician's Mask] was ready at my fingertips and prepared to go meet some other teenage villains, again. So far I haven't done much in our villainous community, of which it was so hard to remember I was a part of now, other than meet the Undersiders after a rescue gone awry and fight it out with Circus over a robbery.
Instead of using flight or a bike, one which I wasn't sure when I stole but I was thinking from some kid at the dog park, I decided to jog. I wasn't going to magically get a brute rating from trying to get into shape, but somehow getting one from a combination that worked off my base strength could be likely in the future. If healing came from examples of herbalism, could I try medicine or protein drinks to go that route?
So I may have been in a hurry, and yes it was an injury that constituted a call for help and was probably urgent, but Regent had said he wasn't dying anytime soon. It was how I justified slipping into a convenience store and buying a bunch of energy drinks just to test later if I could combine food. Drinks were food, right?
A huge red brick building matched the description of what Regent had said, Redmond Welding listed on the side above a massive rusted-shut door locked by chains. I double-checked the street name just to confirm and was about to slip into an alley to change into costume before I was stopped.
He was attractive, more pretty than handsome but overall undeniably so, with a pristine white long-sleeved shirt that looked expensive even if it was plain, and his black pants were loosely fit on his lanky frame yet gave him a sophisticated feel. He was also shivering in the cold morning air. He crossed the street when he saw me and ran a hand through his hair.
"Hey, Dee, got here pretty fast, huh?" he said.
"Hey... you got the wrong person."
With a slight roll of his eyes, he jerked a thumb back at the abandoned factory. "No I don't, because there wouldn't be any other pretty white girls out at eight a.m. in this neighborhood on a school day, especially not any checking out a suspicious building."
That made sense, and his body type and curly black locks did remind me of Regent. "So you admit the building is suspicious? Jeez, weren't you the one who told me doing this," I pointed between him and I, "was bad manners?"
"Which is why I was the one waiting out in the bloody cold. Someone had to show you inside, c'mon."
I followed Probably-Regent but Definitely-Not-Grue into the Suspicious-Factory about a person probably dying. If this wasn't so cliche I would be terrified I was about to get murdered by a sociopath or something. "Wait, do your friends have their fancy clothes on?"
He opened a smaller side door and let me in, following after and locking it. "Oh right, yeah they have their masks up. Well, Grue and Tattle does, Bitch doesn't care since her face is public, you know?"
I didn't.
"You didn't?" He laughed. "And yeah, you're really easy to read. Don't be so paranoid, we've traded faces but not names, so you're okay, right?"
"Sure." Yeah, that was okay, sort of. Not really at all, actually. I didn't want anyone to know my face and connect it to a local villain on a crime spree, especially not another villain. Still, I also saw his face and come to think of it I ran into Bitch way earlier, didn't I?
I costumed up as Alec watched, feeling a bit embarrassed at it all even if the costume change was instant. He whistled lowly at it, "Instant transformation? Truly you're a magical girl. Bet you had a long sequence and it was edited out of reality due to time restraints on the episode."
"...What are you talking about?"
He facepalmed. "I need to get you watching some Aleph anime soon. You can't not know about these things."
Anime? Sure, I've heard of it before somewhere as old cartoons from over in Japan, but something about how the industry sunk since Leviathan hit them. "Wasn't I here to help one of your teammates from dying?"
Regent led me up a spiral staircase into a loft. "Our magical healer who is cooler than Panacea is here! Now, back to serious matters at hand."
Tattletale, or a girl in casual clothes wearing her domino mask, looked up from the couch with bloody towels in her hands and sighed in relief. "Thank god, we were about to have to haul Grue's heavy ass out to a doctor."
"You're lucky I'm not so criminally busy that I couldn't come here," I said. Of course it upset me as to why I wasn't busy, but I wasn't going to offload my problems onto strangers. She gestured for me to come over and I hesitantly walked her way, the bloody towels making me nervous.
"Jerkface over there wouldn't give me the phone or I would've explained the situation," said Tattletale.
"You had your hands full of blood. I didn't want you dirtying my phone like you did my couch!"
Grue groaned in pain. "They won't stay quiet." Nevermind, it was just frustration.
Tattletale held out a hand, palm open.
I stared at said palm. "What?"
"The... no, no, dangit, whatever you used. Can you please hand it over?"
I had jogged all the way here, showed my actual face to a villain, entered their lair and stood before an injured guy not that much older than me, and hesitated as to whether or not to hand anything over. It wasn't that I didn't want to, but after having missed so many thefts the void was angry. The thought of handing something over made me nauseous and my mind didn't want to comply.
"I... can't. Not for free," I struggled to say. A trade or to have it purchased was slightly easier, but only just.
"What?" Tattletale looked surprised, but went into concentration, probably using whatever her power was. Regent had said she was a Thinker, but I had no idea what that entailed. Super thinking? The only obvious thing that came to mind was precognition, but I doubted it or they wouldn't be in this situation.
"I see. What do you want for your services? Also, can you actually heal him?"
I nodded. "I can, but I'm not really sure. The thousand for showing up--"
"That wasn't a joke?" asked Regent.
"--to start with, five cards of Grue's power, and I guess... your television?" My power smiled at me because it was a huge ripoff compared to what I was giving.
"Nice try, but no. The thousand is already out of Regent's pocket." He complained at that. "And four cards for Grue along with... damnit, a spare laptop? It's crappy, but it's something. We kind of like our giant t.v."
Grue mumbled, "Are you really doing this now?"
Tattletale shushed him with a finger to his lips. "The adults are speaking."
A computer, even if it was crappy, could be a large boon. I hadn't had the time to go buy a computer, which I was going to eventually but thought that maybe I would steal it later and kept putting it off. Going to the library constantly wasn't a good use of my time, but losing one Grue card wasn't ideal either.
"How about six Grue cards and I'll toss a smaller item in exchange?"
She grinned and I felt like I had been played. "Deal."
I took off my [Metal Ring of Restoration] and dropped it in her palm. A dark, violent part of me that slept in the void watched carefully as she put it on Grue's finger. Tattletale glanced my way and paled a bit. "We're not stealing it, okay? Watch, look, it's on his finger."
Regent walked around and lounged on the arm of the couch. "We know, we can see it."
"Yes, but Discard needs to see it."
I watched as her fingers left it and bit my lip.
"Really?"
Tattletale laughed sadly. "Power induced problems."
"Yeah, makes me need to steal like an addict, and really doesn't like giving away things," I added. The [Healing Ice Pack] was tossed her way, which she caught. "It's the additional item, a [Healing Ice Pack]. Not as good as the ring, but it at least is always chilled."
She was about to put it on Grue when I said, "Doesn't stack with the ring."
"Of course it doesn't, you dork. Lesser spells are overwritten by greater magics."
It felt intimate when I knelt by Grue and inspected his injuries. Something had skewered him in the side of his stomach and left thigh, sharp enough to cut deep into the muscle. The bleeding was bad enough that Regent wasn't exaggerating about having the couch completely ruined.
"What the hell happened?" I asked.
Grue grunted as the wounds were already scabbing over enough to let him sit up. "Fucking Shadow Stalker."
"As in the Ward, Shadow Stalker?" A Ward was, well, a hero. A teenage cape like us but for the good guys, and I've faced down the Wards twice. They played softball with the fighting compared to the way Circus was fighting, and it made me doubt a Ward should be able to do damage like this.
Tattletale kicked the couch, to Regent's annoyance. "The bitch has it out for Grue, something about how his power messes with hers made it personal. Shot him with broadhead bolts instead of her PRT-sanctioned tranq bolts. She could've killed Grue, and part of me thinks she wanted to."
Wow, that was messed up. Shadow Stalker was a hero, or at least a dark hero who was picked up by the PRT late last year, but she had been a vigilante for a while. They didn't hide that, but was this how she was fighting crime? It made me think back to the worst night of my life.
"I... I'm pretty sure I saw her once." My palms were sweaty as the memory came back of her watching me from the rooftops. Just... watching and waiting. I still haven't been able to make sense of it. "The Wards have been pretty good heroes, at least when they fought me. I haven't run against her yet in costume, but... she's not typical, right?"
"She's a damn psychopath," said Grue as he tested his injuries. "This is amazing. Still hurts like hell, but I can feel it healing."
Tattletale inspected his stomach. "Regenerative? No, it's extremely accelerated healing, but with something more it could easily go further. You made this with medical supplies? No, a ring. A lot of rings and, damn, I can't think of what you went with. Pills?"
"A magician doesn't reveal the secrets of her tricks," I said with a huff. "It ruins the magic."
"We know you combine your cards, you can see it in the jewelry store video when you combine a bunch and then blasted Aegis," explained Tattletale.
"Wait, she can? But there was no flash of light or little chime!"
"I know, right? It's so boring, like, add some flair to it already. It would be pretty sad if I had to add my own sound effects for my power!" I agreed.
"Yeah, using your power to make something that played noises whenever you used your power defeats the purpose of having it in the first place," shot back Regent.
"Well, only when I'm alone. It would be useful to have in fights or public confrontations. Like a nice thunder effect when I deliver my speeches or swishing noises with I use the [Arclance] or something. Movies have me spoiled on what a fight should sound like."
"Haha, you had Halbeard as your first fight so it doesn't count. His halberd actually does make cool noises!"
"Only sometimes, when he uses an effect, but it looks super hi-tech so it can be forgiven. Nothing worse than a tinker item that isn't shiny or attractive," I said sagely. "Dauntless' gear is a good example, except his spear. It's basically solid lightning in appearance."
"Say, what happened to his boots? You totally stole them but we haven't seen you use them like you do his spear. And let me just say, he's totally compensating for something."
"I combined them with my costume, if you must know." I showed off my shoes. "It's what gave me, as you so eloquently put it, mime powers. Really just mime flight. I do feel bad since he won't ever get his boots back, but I'm more important so it's okay."
"Theft is okay because you're priority, right?"
"Right."
We shared a look and I gave him a high-five.
Tattletale glanced between us two while Grue laid there with his eyes closed. "How... What?"
Regent laughed and hopped off the couch. "Keep up, Tats. It's not like you to be speechless."
"You never talk this much," she said. She held her head after a painful wince. "Damn, thinker headache."
Regent shrugged. "You do all the talking most of the time and Grue is boring."
I stared at Grue. "It working?"
"Yeah. Can I buy this off you?" he asked.
"It's a lot." I tried to see how much I would actually be willing to sell it for and found that I could accept a certain number. "Fifteen thousand."
"Fuck, you guys want to pitch in?"
"Fifteen to own, or just bribe her whenever we get hurt. Psh, easy choice."
"Maybe later." Tattletale got up and returned a minute later with a small, black laptop. I sealed it when she handed it to me. "No password, nothing on it but the internet browser. Regent, the thousand."
He clicked his tongue and handed me a small wad of bills. I trusted him on the amount but double checked anyway because I liked the sight of money. "You said you could fix the couch?"
"Only 'cause you're my favorite," I replied without missing a beat. "But no promises. I'll also need two pillows, preferably whatever color you want your couch to be."
"My pillows too? You fiend!" He ran and got two from a room, or more like a large personalized cubicle, with a crown painted on the door. Both were white, same as the couch, and oddly clean.
"Are these new?" I asked as I sealed them.
"Uh, yeah, who sleeps on old pillows every night?" he asked seriously. With the way his clothes were also in the same condition he probably wore new clothes every single day. Sure, I could do the same considering how much crime pulls in, but to actually do it? "They lose all the good fluff after a single use, you know."
I combined the [White Pillow] cards to get [Pristine Pillow]. Thank you, Power, your knowledge of what to name things continues to amaze me. I showed it to Regent who just chuckled. "Laugh it up, but this is probably the most amazing pillow to ever exist. To use it once would mean it's no longer pristine."
"Wait, wait, let me try it! I'll just give you two more if it's actually ruined."
Well, I considered it for a moment as normally I'd say no to letting someone test anything of mine, but being in costume made reputation and image something at the forefront of my mind. And letting Regent try out something Discard made to prove its quality was something she'd do.
"Fine." I unsealed the [Pristine Pillow] and threw it as his face. It struck true, sank onto his face then fell into his hands without budging him a centimeter.
"It was like being hit by a baby's soft, tiny fists." He picked up the pillow and smothered himself with it. After three minutes, in which I shared a worried glance with Tattletale, he tossed it back to me. "That is an amazing pillow, but you're right."
I sealed it and got a [Comfortable Pillow] card. Regent said, "I ruined it. But hey, could you do that to all my pillows? Seriously, I don't think I could go back to normal pillows. You did this! You ruined pillows for me for life! How do you plead?"
I unsealed the pillow and threw it back at him. "Guilty, now get me two more pillows so I can maybe fix your couch. Grue, you'll have to vacate it. Sorry, but not really. I need you to fulfill your end of the bargain anyway."
Regent came back out with two pillows, which I combined as Grue carefully climbed off the couch. With a touch I pumped the bloodied couch with negative energy, it vanishing as I sealed it into a card. Tattletale had watched with interest, I noted.
"What did you mean by Grue cards? I'm distinctly uncomfortable with that terminology," mentioned Grue.
Well, this was a fresh experience. "I got a [Pristine Pillow Seat]. Sorry to say your couch is now a loveseat. Also, Grue, I meant your darkness. You owe me six darkness clouds."
"Here okay?"
I unsealed the loveseat on the spot where the couch used to be. It was fresh-pillow white instead of the ivory it used to be, but all the blood had vanished somehow. "Sure, whenever you're ready."
Darkness flooded the room. I pulled on the void, it gave me its negative energy far more easily than normal, and I suffused the dark cloud with it. It sealed into a [Deep Darkness] card that by itself was a rare. I guess it was a given since it seemed like his darkness did very weird things.
"It's weird," Grue said. "I can't see it, but I can tell that it was there and then suddenly it's not."
Regent was collapsed onto the loveseat. I hadn't even seen him move.
"Again?"
I nodded. Five more times left my void slightly less hungry and me far more winded. Stealing it once wasn't much, but five times in a row was almost as bad as the vault door from the bank.
"You okay?" asked Grue.
"Y-Yes, just need a second."
Regent was so still I didn't think he was breathing until he said, "This is my new bed forever."
I surveyed the room. It was homey in a teenage way, something that said it was their place and no adults were allowed. I was jealous a bit, even if my own place was a work in progress. This… was nice, but I also didn't like it. Dealing with people was exhausting, and sharing with other people was worse.
"How's the healing progress? I'm not impatient, but it's good to know the time lengths I'm expecting per injury. My wrist has only now gotten to the point where it hurts when I stress it, and I'm positive a sledgehammer to the bone cracked it at least.
Grue poked his scabs. "Another few hours at least."
I sighed. "Damn, no offense but I have things to do and I won't leave the ring here. It's not that I don't trust you all, but I really don't trust you all."
Regent rolled around on his new loveseat bed. "Shit, even the arms are pillow soft. A few hours? Please, what do you have to do besides plan for robberies and fights?"
"Dauntless' public apology is tomorrow."
That got Regent to sit straight up, a playful grin on his face. "Oh, you aren't."
"I am."
"Now I have to go." I stared at him. "Not as Regent, duh, but disguised as a young guy who's enraged at the heroes for being human. You need help?"
The very nerve of him asking if I needed help planning on how to crash Dauntless' apology! "Why, of all the things! I'm hurt, you barbarian, to even think me so incapable. However, I'm open to suggestions."
Grue sighed and went to the kitchen to do something I didn't care about. "It's too early to deal with this. I feel sorry for the Wards, the blow to their rep must be horrible."
Regent was about to tell me his superior plans, but the door to the loft slammed open and the growling of dogs made my fingers twitch. In a moment the [Arclance] was out and I was poised to strike.
The girl, Bitch, who was the same girl I met after I robbed the bank, walked in and growled. "What's she doing here?"
Grue poked his head out of the kitchen area. "Woah, Bitch, cool it. She's here to help me heal from Stalker's shit!"
"How? She's not a healer."
That was a good question, and I had a good answer. "Power bullshit lets me create magic items."
She tensed her shoulders and I swear she was about to attack me. "It work on dogs?"
"I don't know, should work on anything I think."
She made a guttural sound I doubt I could replicate and shot Grue a look. It was surprising just how descriptive a look from her could be despite being expressed in the same way. He nodded slowly.
"She said fif—"
"You got hurt dogs?" I asked. It concerned me just about as much as Grue bleeding out did, but damn did hurt animals make my feelings get all twisted.
"All the time."
"I… fuck." My insides didn't want to let go of a ring while I was still starved for stolen goods, but I could lower the price. It would suck, but only I could make selling a ring that cost me nothing for ten grand suck. "Ten thousand. It should work, but not on terminal diseases or parasites. It just makes you heal really fast, not cure your cancer."
"Heals fast, sure. That's… two thousand five hundred?" Bitch glared at her teammates, who nodded in turn under the scrutiny and went to grab their cash before she did.
"I honestly didn't expect my morning to be like this," I said a bit later with eleven thousand dollars, some rare cards, and a laptop in my pocket.
"Glad to make your day better, magic girl."
At least I knew who had the ring. "Since I don't have to stick around, it's time for me to take my leave. It's been your pleasure, I'm sure."
Bitch was talking to Grue while he cooked something that smelled really good, Tattletale was doing something on her computer at the table, and Regent was lounging on the loveseat. "Sure was, I'll call you later, Dissy?"
I waved, saying as I went downstairs to let myself out, "Don't call me Later Dissy, for I am Discard!"
I sealed up my costume, left the Undersiders' base and began a jog back home. Halfway down the street nausea slammed into me full-force making me nearly trip over my own feet. The sight of blood, more than I thought could be inside a person, oozing through the towels, rushed back. Heck, I cracked jokes and wasn't too bothered over the issue at the time, but that had been as Discard.
When I got home I went to my room and was about to resume my workout when I stopped. I ran a finger over the [True Magician's Mask] card and pushed it out of my mind. It had just been shock catching up to me, because while I could handle my own injuries it was the first time seeing someone else so hurt. There was a lot of things to think about and I wanted to avoid a lot of them. I picked up the phone to make a call.
It rang twice.
"So, you said you had suggestions?"
AN: Huh, that wasn't too bad, I think. What, shipping? Me? I don't like the accusation, bubs. Royal Flush is a GO! _ Get stuffed, Cardblocker.
Last edited: Oct 31, 2018
1252
Glazt
Oct 31, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 2.5 Pertinacity
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 1, 2018
#1,482
Whew, okay. Sorry folks, this chap is a bit short due to comedic necessity (No, It Was Really Hard To Write). I hope everyone had a spooky Hallow's Eve!
Thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans for the beta read.
Thank you all for reading and taking time to like or comment.
This chapter is brought to you by: Work-brand Workjuice The Not-Taylor Gang!
2.5 Pertinacity
-
"I'm pretty sure I need to get my manager for this," said Rob. The same girl from the other night was back, and this time he was positive it was for drugs. That, or she was on drugs. He wasn't sure exactly how dozens of energy drinks, over the counter medicines, and other things were going to be used in drug cooking, but she had that crazy look in her eyes.
"It's for a party," she said.
Uh huh, likely story. "Like that barbeque last time?"
The girl scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Sorta, that was going fine until someone crashed it. This time, though? I feel it's going to go a lot better."
"A better drug party," he said.
"A public outing, actually." Yeah, no way that wasn't a bold-faced lie.
"And the thirty flashlights?"
Life was, Dennis decided, extremely unfair. Not only had his first thwarting of Discard, nefarious thief that she was, happened on a crime that wasn't even hers, he had barely got in any banter before she made her high-flying escape!
"It's just not fair," he whined.
"What is?" asked Chris from beside him
The two were currently at school, at least in the front courtyard as they were on their lunch hour, watching the opening proceedings to Dauntless' public apology on his laptop. Arcadia had a faraday cage around it that prevented them from doing so inside, so Dennis and Chris were eating their lunch outside.
"Just... everything!" How could he explain it to Chris, a close personal friend of his? A friend who had betrayed him and gotten prime time at the jewelry store robbery! "You cheater, dangit. We barely traded words before she left. All that work putting in overtime to try and rid myself of console duty and finally, finally it happened while I was near my route!"
Chris patted Dennis on the shoulder. "There will be other times."
"Chris..." Dennis tearily turned to his friend and felt a cold lance through his heart. "You aren't even looking at me. Bah, more and more notes about that dumb baton."
Chris was doodling in his notebook with several sketches of electricity, the baton, and something that Dennis thought was a cannon. "It's so interesting. The security feeds from the gallery showed her water gun was some sort of solid air blaster."
Dennis did a quick check to see if anyone was around them, confirmed that they were isolated, and sighed as he watched the stream on his laptop. "Yeah, yeah, she's a cheating cheater who cheats or something. Know who else is a cheater? Carlos. You know he wrote down the whole transcript of their fight? Traitor, all of you! First Dean, then Carlos, even Missy is getting pumped."
Speak of the devil and he arrived; Carlos walked over with his lunchbox and sat on the other side of Dennis. "Sup, guys?"
"Traitor," muttered Dennis.
"There will be other times," consoled Carlos.
Dennis screamed internally.
"That's what I said," agreed Chris.
With his two no-longer-best-friends, he slumped and chewed on his ham sandwich. Miss Piggy was walking out onto a stage they had set up in the Peter-Louis Park a few streets over from the PRT HQ. As to why they didn't host it there was they didn't want to show the apology from a Protectorate hero with the PRT in the backdrop. Something about public relations and the cognitive association between imagery.
"Thank you all for gathering here today," Director Piggot began. "For it is not for a joyful reason."
"Man, I still don't see why we couldn't be there," said Dennis. "Sure, we have school and all, but what if something happens?"
Carlos shrugged and Chris didn't bother to look up from whatever he was working on in his notebook. "Because we're the kids he's traumatized, apparently," said Carlos. "I would be glad if that was all it took to shake me up, but the Bay is a rough place.
"Besides," said Chris. "What would even happen? It's an apology."
"—a stalwart hero who has an impeccable record. Unfortunately, he made an error in—" The introduction speech from Piggot was something Dennis tuned out, but he caught some snips.
"What if she shows up?" he asked.
Both of his friends thought that over and Carlos agreed. "It's possible, but would she? Besides, it's not like it's a crime to attend."
"No, look, if she showed up what would she do? Denounce Dauntless for apologizing, and then what, steal his shield? I feel for the guy." said Chris. Yeah, the mere thought of having his tinkertech stolen was probably crushing to the guy. Dennis knew how much Chris struggled against his own mind to complete any of his projects, although he was laser-focused as of late. Pun maybe intended if Chris' notes were anything to go by.
"Sure, maybe, but... what if she does?"
"Do you think Discard will show?" asked Melody.
Brad Meadows grumbled as the two watched the large television mounted on the wall against the back of the bar. He was a big guy, toned muscles under his plain shirt and greasy blonde hair that stayed that way despite a daily shower. They were in one of the Empire's cover establishments drinking away the day until the night came for criminal activities.
Well, he was at least. Kaiser had sent several other members of the Empire into doing covert operations while the heroes were distracted by this apology thing. It was all due to this upstart villain, a kid really, running around playing it up like life was a cartoon show.
"Yeah, probly," he said. "Watched her videos, yeah?"
Melody nodded, her voice synthesizer on her throat in one hand a cold beer in the other. "Weak shit, but gets better quick."
"Yeah," he agreed. The girl started off with a solo robbery of one of Brockton's main banks, a ballsy move that he respected. The idiot heroes played nice, went easy on the girl because she was fresh, and got shown up like chumps. "She's gonna show."
Brad took a swig of the beer. It didn't matter which kind or how it tasted, his body destroyed it or was otherwise immune to toxins. Just a habit leftover from his glory days. "The rep's too important. Shit like this goes down? You gotta show."
"Yeah, fuck them up. Ain't kids there, either." Melody laughed without her synthesizer which was a hoarse laugh like chalky sandpaper. "What'd Kaiser say on grabbing her up?"
That, in itself, pissed Brad off. The glass bottle of his beer cracked as he unintentionally squeezed it. The Empire was an ideal, maybe not one he was devoted to but it was something he ran with ever since he joined. Why not, right? It was partly true anyway, but he had his code he followed and sometimes shit came into conflict with it.
"Said to soft-sell it, do an easy recruitment." It was pussyfooting around the girl and it wasn't something Discard was worth. So far three videos made it to the net that they'd all watched, the third fight with Circus showed the girl's improvement. Was it a glorious fight? No, but it met the bare minimum of his standards by them drawing actual blood from each other.
"That's shit," agreed Melody. She and Stormtiger understood what he was about, how he thought, and they agreed. There was a reason Cricket didn't do healing that hid her scars or why Stormtiger refused to ditch his original mask he used fighting in the pits.
"We meet, we fight, and we judge. As it should be." He clicked his tongue and chugged the rest of the beer. "She's still piss poor at fighting, but she has guts. Fighting outnumbered and laughing at it is true grit."
The fat director bitch finally shut her trap on the television and Dauntless made his way out to the podium. Of all the things the rookie did, stealing Dauntless' gear was the best thing to Brad. It was the funniest damn thing he'd heard in a while, but no shit he had to apologize after having a tantrum and trouncing the kid. "He beat her bloody real good."
Melody smirked. "Paid him back, and she learned. Real though, we gonna obey Kaiser if we meet?"
Brad, Hookwolf, grinned wide.
"I have failed," started Dauntless. "Failed as a role model, as a hero, and most importantly of all, I have failed you, the citizens. There are no excuses for the lengths I went to, for the reasons I did. We heroes fight for justice and to bring peace from the villains that run rampant across cities nation, no, worldwide."
Assault yawned which earned him an jab in the ribs by his loving wife, Battery. Too loving, at times, with her sharp elbows and sharper words. They were standing off to the side of the stage in Perilous Park, as the town nicknamed it, as Dauntless started his speech. "Stay alert."
"But puppy, nothing serious is going to happen," said Assault. It was barely noon, which was extremely early to heroes that performed daily night patrols. "It's bright outside, birds are singing, flowers are blooming. It's a pretty good time."
It was just him, Battery and Dauntless at the park alongside the Director and several PRT officers. There wasn't much room for more as the dozen news crews, various technological setup of microphones and speakers and other stuff that went over his head crowded around and behind the stage. That wasn't even considering the large audience that was listening out front.
"You don't know that. We have everyone else who aren't the kids doing wide patrols right now, but we know the gangs have been preparing to act. This is the perfect time to do so," explained Battery.
If he was completely honest with himself he didn't care about the gangs. Being here, watching Dauntless apologize? That mattered to him, because Assault was the only one who considered actually beating him within an inch of his life when he found out what he did. Some of the others, like his wife, disapproved of Dauntless' motivations and the fact he got caught on film more-so than the damage he put on Discard.
After all, she was the villain. He laughed and joked when they glossed over that fact. Oh, they complained and lectured the bloke about it, but at the end of the day, no one gave much thought to it except cleaning up the mess and getting Dauntless therapy.
They should all get therapy in his opinion, some that wasn't useless like the PRT's.
Yet only Armsmaster went over the video with him, calculated the injuries and extent of the damage, and then questioned how days later Discard was fighting Circus at the Forsberg Gallery since she had no known brute rating or access to parahuman healing. They didn't share that observation, and Assault was annoyed that the debriefing from Aegis afterward provoked no questions to her recovery, but instead to her weapons and threat levels.
Because Discard wasn't just a villain, she was one of the hammy villains. Clearly, she had been exaggerating her injuries.
"Are you listening?" whispered Battery.
"Should I be?" It earned him a reproachful look. "Kidding, but no I'm not. He's not really sorry, either. Like, he's reading from a written speech PR gave him."
Battery sighed. "His own apology was five sentences long. I think he knows he's in a bad spot but doesn't really get truly why."
And neither did anyone else in his opinion except, strangely enough, maybe Armsmaster.
"—for that, I'm truly sorry. I know I won't get forgiveness for my actions, but will strive to correct them and uphold them forevermore," ended Dauntless with a solemn vow. Truly, the PR in PRT truly stood for public relations, as even Assault almost believed the apology was heartfelt.
There was silence until it came like thunder amongst an empty plain. A clap, slow and methodical, that resounded from not the crowd, but the stage speakers. No, it couldn't be! Ah, who was he kidding, he knew something like this was going to happen.
"A touching speech, truly. Ah, such sorrow so deeply felt that it resonated in my dark soul and made me think, maybe even consider, forgiving you," said a young girl with such charisma that made you want to listen to every word. Four small objects were shot into the sky, a thin trail of smoke behind each shot, and exploded.
Not in light or sound or fire, but in total darkness. High up, over the park, it spread into a small cloud of such black that there were no shapes to discern, just suddenly nothing against the blue sky and sun. It hung there in the air, and then someone screamed. Fog was rolling in from somewhere in the park, thin wisps clinging along the ground.
"Yet that is the hot topic of today, isn't it? An apology for, what, defeating the villain? Doing your job, nay, your calling? So often do the common folk forget, that you, the hero of justice, dedicate time and your life to protect them against evil! It's not a right, but their privilege to have you as their hero"
This time Assault lightly elbowed Battery in her side. "Rise and shine, buttercup, for the light's gone away. Time to beat feet and make evil retreat, saving yet another day? Eh?"
Battery made a sign with her hand and punched him hard, which he absorbed with a laugh before the two ran off in different directions to look for the perpetrator. All Assault knew was that Discard was a far better person than him if she was acting so lighthearted with Dauntless, and that Dennis was going to be so jealous.
Emily Piggot was the eye in the storm, calm as she walked through the various equipment over to one of the command vans the PRT had set up behind the stage. She had recognized the signal flares as they fired, but that they released a thick darkness that shrouded the park away from the daylight and hung in the sky instead of obeying gravity made her chalk it up to Discard's tinker power.
It was ridiculous what the girl was pulling out so often, and while they knew the how they didn't know the requirements or mechanics behind it. Was there a time limit, resource requirements, or was she enhancing items as Dauntless did but in card form? No matter, she'd be in custody soon enough.
"So quick are they to cast judgment! Who are you apologizing to, Dauntless? Your peers, the children that they fear for, or to the citizens who feel entitled to your protection at the cost of your humanity?"
Emily grimaced at Discard's words, and couldn't figure out if the girl was spouting tripe as an act, or truly spoke what she believed in. What else should normal people be, then? When parahumans run amok with their powers, using them for selfish reasons and forcing their will upon the undefended, why is holding them responsible selfish? Aren't the unpowered entitled to their survival, to their peace of mind?
She couldn't help but laugh at that naivety.
"Report." Piggot climbed into the van.
"Reinforcements just arrived in town ten minutes ago. They've been informed of the situation and should be here shortly," said one of the PRT officers.
"Good, and any signs from the gangs?"
"Strange activity from the Merchants, but nothing overt."
That was good, then. Emily Piggot clasped her hands and tried to relax. "All going according to plan, then."
Spotlights flashed on, pointing towards the sky from all directions, at the loud snap of a finger. Discard, in all her magical glory, stood upside-down in the air with two hands on her odd hiking stick weapon. With a twirl of it in one hand, she pointed it at Dauntless.
"Say, Dauntless, do you remember?" said Discard, her tone soft with fond remembrance. Eric ground his teeth as his hands clutched the podium sides so hard the wood cracked. "I once offered a trade for your Arclance back, something worth its rarity."
He was apologizing! A speech and everything, in front of a crowd and on television, in order to repair the damage to his career. Sure, he understood why he had to do it. Lines had been crossed, but not one in violence. Heroes and villains did battle all the time, injuries and deaths happened despite the unwritten rules guiding them to try not to. No, apparently the line he crossed was his motivation.
Director Piggot pointed out that if he didn't act so selfishly, so rash, that if he just arrested her he would've already had his gear back and wouldn't have lost his Skysteps. He knew that, but how could she understand what was boiling inside him when even he didn't get it? His entire career he never felt so angry, such rage at the thought of having something stolen from him.
The trained PRT personnel were surrounding the area of darkness, some with foam dispensers like giant flamethrowers and others with riot guns. Battery and Assault had begun a calm evacuation of all the attendees and camera crew, some which refused to go as they pointed their cameras to the sky.
"Tell you what," said Discard before she giggled. "It's a good trade, really. All you have to do is apologize to me, then ask nicely. Not so hard, but you have to mean it!"
His comms in his ear crackled to life with Director Piggot's voice. "Do it."
Apologize, to her? It grated him just thinking about it. His gaze swept across the darkened park, at the lights of the cameras pointing at him or Discard, of the hundreds of people that had arrived to listen to his apology.
He could do this. "Discard, I apologize for my actions toward you."
Assault yelled something but was lost over the babel of the crowd.
"Oh? That didn't sound very sincere, but I suppose it suffices," said Discard. She began walking toward the stage, toward him, but upwardly like climbing steps as she stayed upside-down. One PRT officer threw a grenade at Discard, one Dauntless recognized as a containment foam grenade.
Discard waved a hand and the grenade disappeared, no explosion following. "Really now? I accept gifts from all fans, but I don't want to impose too much. Here you go." She flicked a hand and threw back the grenade at the PRT officer causing it to explode upon contact, swamping him in foam.
Dauntless' fingers buried themselves into the podium. Discard was so close, a dozen feet at best, but she was in the air and he could no longer fly. She spoke, tauntingly and arrogant with that fake charm she forced into her voice that everyone else ate up, "Now, do ask nicely."
He could see the card in her hand, a spear on a lightning backdrop. His voice was caught in his throat as he tried to speak, to say a simple question that would restore him to glory. Yet…
"And my boots?"
Discard laughed as she clicked her shoes together. "Ah, yes, the Skysteps. Afraid they're gone forever. I do feel guilty about that, honestly."
"Impossible!" he screamed. "They're indestructible!"
Discard shrugged. "Were they? I wonder why the durability didn't—"
He couldn't focus, his sight narrowing as the corners of his vision blackened. Before Dauntless knew it he had picked up the podium and threw it at Discard in a rage.She deflected it with her stick and it dropped dead to the ground.
Discard dusted off her shoulder. "Well then."
It was then, before he lost himself to the red fury, a sword came down from the heavens and pierced the podium that was between Dauntless and Discard.
A luminescent sheen coated its silver blade as the green hilt of the longsword was engraved with fanciful swirls. The pommel was a round sigil with two small round ears.
Between blinks a figure appeared, her flowing green cape that fell from her shoulders was fit for royalty, her green and silver tunic was plated in armor panels with thick bracers and greaves in a knightly manner. Most noticeable of all was the visored barbute helm topped with round mouse ears.
"Ne'er-do-wells, scamper and flee; I have been called by the mice's plea!"
AN: So, a bit of perspective to go around this chapter, huh? Sure, the hammyness had been culled a bit for a while, but rain in a drought just makes it all the better, right? RIGHT?
Last edited: Nov 1, 2018
1337
Glazt
Nov 1, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 2.6 Pertinacity
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 3, 2018
#1,750
Big announcement: Updates will no longer be quick. Yes, yes, I've said so before, but c'mon. We all knew mostly-daily wasn't gonna last.
I got nothing clever to say pre-chapter. No one wants my words when there's ham and cheese to be had.
Huge love and thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans for beta reading, seriously, super seriously my gosh.
ALSO THANKS FOR READING!
2.6 Pertinacity
-
"I'm going."
There wasn't a snowstorm's chance in hell that he wouldn't go. Chris could see the conviction in Dennis' eyes, the way he stood up slowly to dramatically stare in the completely wrong direction of the park. The only thing that could crush Dennis more than not going would be to get lost on the way there.
"Then as team leader I guess I'll have to lead the charge," Carlos said with a smile. "Chris?"
Chris grinned. "We're going to getting in trouble for ditching school, you know. Can we even make it?"
Dennis rubbed his chin and tilted his head in thought, a fake-out because he took off sprinting without a word.
"It's the other way, follow me!" said Carlos jogging toward the park.
"I knew that, I was just testing your leadership skills!"
Chris shrugged as the two took off in a run, what fools. He closed his notebook and hurriedly walked back into Arcadia and into the extracurricular room that they housed their costumes and emergency skylight to leave. He suited up and grabbed his hoverboard. "Jeez, I'm not running four miles when I could fly."
I took a step back, then another, my legs shaky and voice quivering. "No, it cannot be! You're supposed to be near New York, in the throes of battle with your nemesis. How is this possible?"
The daring heroine stood tall, picked up her sword and pointed it at the darkened sky. "When the small ones call out, near or far, I shall come no matter rain or car! Dust, wind, cats or birds, none shall stop a rodent's words. With her sword in hand and her danger detector, evil beware of the Mouse Protector!"
I found myself silently mouthing out each word of her theme along with her.
Dauntless stumbled in shock when Mouse Protector's sword fell to point at his chest. "Sinister spartan of sordid intent, surrender now before I must bring down the long tail of justice!"
Wait a moment.
"Me?" asked Dauntless. "I'm the hero, she's the villain! Are you blind?"
Mouse Protector froze, turned her head slightly to look my way. "Really?"
I nodded. "I'm a tenacious, dastardly thief, it's true."
"He tossed a podium at you," she said.
"It's understandable, he's in grieving," I responded.
"But... he's not wearing any greaves," said Mouse Protector.
There were no words for the sound Dauntless made as he jumped off the stage and charged me. Assault bounded between him and me stopping Dauntless and began trying to calm him down. Yeesh, the news cameras were still pointed our way no doubt getting all this on film. He tried to push Assault away but the red hero was unmoved.
"Defender of the small, why are you here?" I asked as I made a dramatic pose. The [Mountain Stick] wasn't a good weapon to fight Mouse Protector with. I sealed it and put it away, debating on unsealing the [Arclance]. No, that would just be cruel to Dauntless and I didn't want to ruin the poor guy.
"Why, after the wonderful heroes of the Protectorate had helped me out, how could I deny them my assistance?" Mouse Protector twisted the pommel of her sword; the blade's supernatural sheen hardened and thickened into a blunt edge. "They said they had a wild card down here and needed a joker in hand."
I laughed at that. Really, they called in one of the most iconic, independent heroes to help deal with me? I couldn't imagine why since I had barely been active for two weeks. What was the game they were playing here? "Please, you're easily the ace in the hole needed to flush me out."
Between the several [Portable Spotlights] I had placed around the area to add ambiance and proper, theatrical lighting to the fog and [De-Flare Gun]'s weird, darkness clouds, the news cameras, an audience watching, and knowing that I was surrounded by very experienced heroes I couldn't help but feel alive.
On the other hand, the void was a hungry, a cold pit in my stomach and an unshakeable restlessness in my legs that wanted me to go take. It told me that I should've ignored this drama, to not entertain these heroes and instead fulfill my criminal needs. Yet I couldn't ignore what I had started.
I sure as heck didn't expect the PRT to try and outplay me.
Could I run from this fight that was no doubt going to happen? I would lose all of my reputation, especially as a playful villain, if I turned and ran from Mouse Protector. It didn't matter that she was a successful solo hero and one of the original Wards, that she had an eighty percent capture rate except for her nemesis, only due to the fact that Ravager used hostages and innocent injuries as distractions.
I couldn't let her touch me.
"Oh, I agree completely. A joker, me?" Mouse Protector put her hands on her hips, leaned back and gave a hearty laugh. "Ha ha ha! Ku ku ku! He he he! I cannot see what they might mean. Now, oh well-dressed villain in stylish attire, who might you be?"
Battery was skirting the edge of the arena, the circle of innocent bystanders and curious onlookers, walking very slowly as the lines of her costume grew brighter. Assault had pulled Dauntless off to the side and was talking to him about something. Officers in thick, black armor with the white letters of PRT were appearing here and there, most carrying heavy-set weaponry with tanks on their backs.
I held up a finger and unsealed a large boombox. Slowly, I put a cassette tape into it and pressed play, all eyes were on it while I struck a pose. One knee slightly raised, hand crossed across my chest and the other lightly covering my face, fingers spread and touching my forehead.
A low cadence, picking up speed and volume, echoed from the boombox. "Who am I? Have you not heard of me, seen my fights? I am the terror of the Bay's banks, a shadow of the nights. Galleries hide their art and quiver in fright, while valuables of all shine avoid my sight."
The deep rumbling echoed around us, not from the music of the boombox but from the stage speakers. I tapped my foot and unsealed another card I had queued up in my mind. "A true magician, master of the dark arts, and entertainer of all ages. Know my name and tremble, heroes, villains, those who have oversized belt buckles, for.. I. Am."
The music let loose a bass drop, the speakers did the same, and the air trembled with sound. With sleight of hand I still practiced even though my costume let me cheat at times, I kicked a card out from under my skirt, hidden by the thick fog on the ground, and unsealed it.
An eight foot tall, twenty-foot long metal monument that spelled my name materialized behind me.
"Discard!"
Regent had some good ideas on how to get the giant metal spelling on my name and proved that I could combine over my weight limit. Yeah, definitely not getting that or the prototype monument sealed back. Sorry Perilous Park, you have a new permanent addition.
I clicked my [Universal Radiophone] to kill the music to both audio systems. Combining technology ended up a garbled mess half the time and the other half needed completely different tools to even use. Regent let slip that Tattletale had to use her power just to figure out how to operate the grappling drone.
Assault clapped and Mouse Protector was inspecting me with a scrutinizing eye.
"I see, and you shall as well, scandalous lawbreaker, that Mouse Protector is on the case. Know that a fight against my mighty might and mousy bite are more than a match for your card-shark bard-snark any day!" Mouse Protector pulled out a set of dice from her pocket, a paper cup from another, and tossed them inside it.
"Are you feeling lucky, evildoer? It was a gamble to come here and your fortune might turn dour now that I have arrived. The odds are against you, the stakes never higher, and last bets are about to be taken." Oh, shit, she tagged each die, didn't she?
Mouse threw the dice from the cup into the air and they landed in random spots around us, hidden by the fog.
A card appeared in each of my hands as I let loose a low chuckle. "We magicians don't believe in the luck of the draw. Be a good mouse and run back to your hole in the wall, this cat is out of the bag and doesn't plan for a curtain call."
Battery yelled, "Fight already!"
"No, keep going!" yelled Assault.
"She's the enemy, why are you all talking like fools!?" screamed Dauntless as he was held back by the PRT.
"Tough crowd," said Mouse Protector.
"You just have to know their soft spot," I replied.
In my right hand, the [Super Blastair 9001] appeared as I tossed my other card at my feet. It wasn't time to play that one yet but kept its mental link at the forefront of my mind. "I agree, let's stop blowing hot air."
I shot my air gun, the wail deafening me for a moment as the ripple of hard air blasted toward Mouse Protector. She twirled her blunted sword and vanished, appearing several feet to my left. I pumped the Blastair again twice and let loose a smaller shot, which she teleported away from again.
This was going to be a tricky fight. Only due to the dark cloud shadowing the park did I notice the blue light of Battery racing for me. I managed to lean out of the first punch, and block the second with my blaster while pumping it twice, and shooting her in the chest with it.
I didn't think Battery even noticed as the third punch cracked my air gun in half. Mouse Protector was a few feet from me, hand outstretched to tag me, and realized this was a bad spot. They had three movers to fight me, even if none of them could fly but outpace me in other ways, in a limited arena. Was I baited to show up, or did they plan for the eventuality?
I ducked and unsealed a ladder above me, Mouse Protector stopping herself with it which caused it to slam into Battery who, yet again, was unmoved. The blue glow from her suit died a second after. She also got enhanced strength in addition to speed?
Gravity took hold of me from the side letting me drop horizontally away from them in a slide. Assault jumped in at that moment and blocked my legs with his. "Hey, nice of you to drop by."
Oh, I had another clever hero here. My legs, given that I was using his as a floor for the second, intertwined around his ankles as I changed my flight orientation and twisted. "See you next fall!"
I knew that Assault was supposed to be some sort of kinetic energy absorber, and while I knew what the definition to those words meant, fighting against it proved annoying. The surprise had managed to trip him up, literally as he fell to the ground, but my feet suddenly slid off him like he was oil and he rolled across the ground like it had no friction before doing a kip-up to his feet.
Mouse Protector had teleported to a die near me and Battery was charging for the moment. I spun around in the air before getting back to my feet on the ground. My flight could've been an escape tool, and I could've fled since it was looking like all three heroes were hard to handle, but I wouldn't.
Not without taking down at least one of them. Mouse Protector lunged with a cheerful laugh. "Stand taller, Assault. Don't let this thief steal your balance!"
"Sorry, MP, thought I got the drop on her," he said.
"I can't believe you two," sighed Battery.
"I guess it's time," I started. A card I was wary of using, not because of its power like those in the [Forbidden Deck, but because it was so hard to top the joke. Positive energy filled the card and unsealed it into reality. "To get out the frying pan and put you all into the fire."
The thick, black cast iron frying pan was in my hand, a heavy weapon that took an effort to lift, burst into golden flames.
"By my whiskers!"
"Whoa now," cautioned Assault. "Fire isn't normally that pretty."
"Don't worry, I'll knock you out of the park," I said with a grin and dashed to Assault. Mouse teleported to him, I didn't even know she tagged him, and blocked the [Firing Pan] with her sword.
"We can handle a little bit of heat, but you need to cool off!"
I jumped up to barely dodge containment foam from covering my legs when I thought it had been Battery rushing at me from my blindspot. PRT officers were closing in from the edges, the weird flamethrowers were actually containment foam dispensers.
Assault had slipped out of the foam before it hardened, it washing off him like water, while Mouse threw her sword at me and teleported to it in mid-air. She did a flip and slashed downward with all the momentum at my shoulder. I barely blocked it with my pan, but it sent me to my knees. Luckily my 'floor' was a few feet off the ground.
"Battery!" called Assault. She turned, they shared some quick signals with their hands, and she raced over and slammed into him. He barely moved from the impact, but then immediately leaped off the ground high into the air.
I threw a door at him.
Mouse pulled out a dart and threw it above me.
Assault hit the door, flipped over it in mid-air, and used it as a springboard to get to me.
"That's cheating!" I said. Since when could kinetic energy power stuff do that kind of bullshit move?
I hit him in the arm with the flaming pan to block his lunge but of course, it did nothing and he barrelled into me. Still, my flight kept my level as he rolled off my smaller frame and hung off my free arm. I tried to make him let go by slamming the [Firing Pan] into his hand with no avail. "No, no, get off. You don't get free handshakes for cutting in line!"
"What can I say? I'm a true fan," he said.
"Hah, we have you trapped in the corner like a mouse!" yelled Mouse who had appeared several feet above me from her thrown dart.
"You're the mouse!" Shit, Mouse was about to land on me and I couldn't exactly move as long as Assault had a hold on my arm. I had sworn never to come out without at least one or two ways to escape a grapple. "And this is the corner ring-out!"
One thing about my power was that rare cards didn't come with instructions on how to use them. It was a test and experiment on their functions with only the ingredients and the name as clues. So far only Dauntless' gear had come with a weird trigger, so it took a bit to figure out my rare gear.
My left ring finger pointed to the right of me, and I touched the sparkling green ring with my thumb and gave it a soft caress. I vanished from Assault's hold letting Mouse Protector drop onto his face, and the two heroes tumbling to the ground. Assault cried out "That's cheating!"
"Fu fu fu, do you really think I would let you filthy do-gooders touch my glorious person?" I said as I stood up five feet from where I had been. My [Emerald Ring of Jaunt] had temporarily lost its green luster, which would come back in a minute. Dozens of energy drinks, a shot of adrenaline I had from my medical kit, too many rings, a small cut emerald, and lastly and most surprisingly was electricity itself. It was probably the most expensive item I had combined yet.
"She can teleport. Why can she teleport," deadpanned Assault. "MP, is she your illegitimate daughter?"
Mouse looked shocked. "No, she couldn't be! All those years ago, I never thought... Is that you, Fluffykins? Did my pet bunny somehow turn into a wicked thief?"
"Who's your pet bunny? I'm the puller of bunnies!" I yelled.
"Then do it," said Assault with arms crossed.
"Now, now, don't badger the poor thing. She's just frightened."
These two were just taunting me because they failed at capturing me. Hah, jokes on them because I can ignore such simple-minded taunts. It would take more than witty one-liners to truly blind me.
I was blinded by containment foam.
"I got her!" yelled what I could guess was a PRT officer, and the grenade had nailed the back of my coat. "Wait, she's not falling."
Yeah, that wasn't going to work. The containment foam disappeared as I sealed it into a card and scowled at the officer, who was clearly the only one dancing nearby. He stopped and looked up at me when Assault cleared his throat. "Nice try, buddy."
Mouse sheathed her sword and punched a fist into her hand. "It's time to up the ante, raise the bets, and call her bluff."
Battery was glowing brightly as she stood still on the edge of the crowd, no doubt waiting for a chance to interfere the moment I was near the ground. "It's a stalemate and gotta say, three of a kind isn't beating her full house."
Assault cooed, "Puppy!"
"Then let's deal the final card," I said. The card I had dropped at the very beginning, its link I felt was released as it unsealed into my ultimate weapon. While before I had let a low-rolling fog cover the ground, that was for the beginning of the performance.
My card erupted into a sparkling pink fog that illuminated everything it covered, a stark contrast to the darkness flare's clouds that were soon to go away.
"The fiend! She has a power that little girls everywhere dream of: pink glitter clouds!" exclaimed Mouse Protector.
Assault laughed and then soon despaired. "It clings to your clothes!"
It flooded over the audience and PRT, corrupting their black gear with the essence of cuteness. Truly, the [Cotton Candy Glitter Fog] was the bane of serious heroes everywhere. Perhaps it didn't work so well on these heroes, and I would only ever be able to use this gimmick once. Can't let myself get stale, after all.
Battery called, "Mouse, ground her!"
"Oh, you're grounded, missy!" growled Mouse Protector. She pulled out her ultimate weapon, one the cartoons made light of and villains genuinely feared: the rubber band launcher. It automatically pulled back rubber bands to where she could tag it, then launched them with speed. A trick that relied upon Mouse Protector's teleport since it cancelled momentum.
"I'm such a rebel." I didn't take it too personally, given Mom would've loved the kind of spectacle my fights were becoming. The thought of a new mom pained me a bit, but if it was ever going to happen, at least Mouse Protector was one of the cooler heroes out there.
I guessed I had sufficiently foiled the heroes and was going to get the heck out of dodge. A rubber band passed by me, and then there was a sudden Mouse Protector nearby. I assumed she was going to tag me, but instead she drew her sword in her other hand and slashed down at me.
My [Mountain Stick] took the blow with ease as I had no idea where my [Firing Pan] went, it easily absorbing the energy to be later released. Mouse disappeared, and I felt a staggering blow land on the small of my back. It hurt, but not in an excruciating way as it sent a shock through my system. It was so unsuspected I didn't have the chance to seal the sword, and then felt a palm rest on my shoulder.
"Tag, you're it," she said before we both teleported to the ground. "Let's take a dip, shall we?"
The PRT had surrounded us, nozzles of their foam dispensers all pointed at me. Foam flooded around me, and I managed to jaunt upwards out of the foam. Before I could turn around I felt Mouse Protector land on my back and we teleported just left to the still-hardening foam.
She vanished as the next wave of foam swamped me. It was an unending tide, for it covered me entirely no matter how many times I sealed it. The second I began feeling it, the void inside me calming down as it got a bit harder to push out the negative energy. The sixth time a knot formed in my stomach as knees got shook. The fifteenth time I had to wonder if they brought out their entire store of foam to freaking capture me and why did they even have it all if it wasn't planned that I would arrive.
By the twenty-third sealed card, a half-deck in my hand, I couldn't stand up and puked onto the ground. I had never felt this bad, having used this much negative energy without giving some positive back. My fingers could barely keep ahold of the cards I attained.
"Is she okay?" asked Assault.
"She had to have a limit, even if powers can be ridiculous," replied Battery.
Mouse Protector stood in front of me, went down to one knee so that we could be mask to helmet. "Do you surrender?"
I chuckled at that, at how every hero had offered me surrender instead of straight up arresting me, even Dauntless. Was it an order from above, or was it that they didn't want to take me in unless I accepted defeat? That I couldn't be recruited onto their side, if I believed Regent, while they still believed I didn't willingly join.
I struggled to hold the deck up to show everyone. All twenty-three cards melted into one in an instant, and I charged it with positive energy. Sadly it wasn't even near enough to make me feel better. "Didn't your m-mothers ever tell you to treat others how you wanted to be treated?"
Yellow foam filled exploded covering everything and everyone, I had barely avoided it by jaunting upward with my ring and climbing as high as I could. It was like a massive slime, rolling and consuming everything it touched. The stage, the speakers, the audience, trees, grass and only stopped well after everyone was stuck. The odd thing was that it started deflating to about waist-height, collapsing like a bad souffle. None of the foam I sealed was hardened like concrete so maybe some properties of it had been changed.
I thought a heard a loud yell of a dramatic 'noooooo' from somewhere, and someone that was maybe Kid Win on a hoverboard flying at me.
No time to wonder as I pulled out my escape plan. A glass door, one of my two [Dimension Door] cards that were part of a set combined with a powered-up version of Grue's darkness, was unsealed in mid-air. Before gravity had immediately told it to fall I pulled it open and jumped through.
I expected the fall to shatter my escape door but didn't want to take any chances at being followed so I sealed the twin on this side. Then I quickly sealed my costume remembering that Mouse had tagged it. Sure, I was a very good distance away from the park, but again no chances.
Dusty and forgotten machinery surrounded me in this abandoned production factory that I had hidden the other door in beforehand. Finally, I exhaled all the tension I had and completely collapsed onto the floor. I was feeling so utterly horrid I didn't think I would move for at least an hour or two.
The heroes had come so close to catching me, and them finding my limit would no doubt let them be able to plan far, far better for any future fights. It would mean I would have to expand my repertoire.
In the end I didn't get to accomplish my goal for even going there. Showing up to try and reinforce Discard's image was something I had to do, sure, but I thought that Dauntless would jump at the chance to reclaim his [Arclance]. Yeah, I also wanted an apology of my own even if he didn't mean it, or if he did he didn't show it, but the Bay was overflowing with villains.
A scream, high-pitched and jarring, cut me out of my thoughts. There was nobody nearby and the sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Then, it intensified in front of me.
Mouse Protector crashed to the ground in front of me. "Sweet cheese and crackers, what in the fluffy tails was that?"
I gaped like a fish.
"Oh, uh, hello there, random citizen. I must've been foiled by the... the..." Mouse took in her surroundings. "The thief?"
Well, fuck.
I slumped against the cold, dirty brick wall in defeat. The plans of escape and tools were all used or useless against a teleporter, and I didn't even know her limits. The Mouse Protector in the cartoons was based on her power, but of course the exacts never said and liberties were taken for comedic effect. How long did her marker for teleports last, or did they even have a time limit? Was it limited in amount instead?
It wasn't like I had given up completely, but escaping from this situation was hard or impossible. The fact that she had appeared after I had sealed my costume made it clear that it wasn't a solution to the problem, and that in itself caused the biggest issue of them all.
Mouse Protector had seen me unmasked.
"Well," she started as she climbed to her feet. "It seems the wily Discard has thrown me off her trail. Don't worry, citizen, I'll be after her shortly!"
She did a pose before vanishing in a teleport. Did... did she really just leave? I was sure that it was obvious that I was Discard, because who else would I be? Wait... maybe I could salvage the situation. There was nothing around to incriminate me, I was just Taylor in some raggedy clothes.
The screaming returned with more horror than before, growing in sound that was an echo that somehow slowly phased into reality. Mouse Protector, once again, crash-teleported in front of me and muttered a string of words so low I couldn't hear it.
"Jumping jellybeans does that make my stomach flip," she said. "Oh, hello again. Say, have you seen a nefarious ne'er-do-well around? She's about your height and your weight with similar hair like yours?"
Nevermind, clearly was playing me and escape was futile. Still, this was Mouse Protector. If I was caught, might as well go all the way as Discard would. "No, ma'am, can't say I've seen anyone like that. Did she have dashing good looks and a suave fashion sense?"
Mouse Protector rocked her hand side to side. "Eh, just a little. Clearly not as fabulous as a grand hero such as I, for where would we be if villains were more fashionable than justice?"
Ow, that stung a little.
"What I, with all of my mousy mind, cannot figure out is how she evaded me! Why, I can smell her even now, like cotton candy and watermelon, both here and so far, far away." Mouse Protector sniffed herself. "Or perhaps that is me! A clever ruse, foiling my famous hunting mouse nose."
I laughed and then sighed. If anyone was going to catch me, at least it was her. The Wards would've been acceptable too. How did the PRT process criminals? Was I to be thrown into jail along with my mask, or unmasked and have Dad called up for me to explain my deeds? It made me both curious and dreading to know.
Mouse Protector laughed in her unique way. "Well since there is no sight of that party crasher, I shall be on my way. Farewell, citizen, and remember to wash your clothes properly!"
Wait, what?
"You're leaving?"
Mouse stopped. "Well, yes, my heroic duties are calling. Or, perhaps, is there something this defender of the little ones can help you with?"
But that couldn't be right. I was right here, exhausted and out of tricks, clearly at her mercy. Okay, that might be a bit dramatic since I could still clearly put up a good fight, but to be honest this felt like a solid loss. I had done the fight, bested the heroes, endured their best attempt to capture me, and then got away. Except I didn't.
"That's... you can't do that," I said. Why was I complaining? Here she was, ready to leave me, and I was preventing that. Yet, it wasn't right. "You can't."
Mouse Protector hummed. "Why can't I, I wonder?"
"You haven't caught the thief," I mumbled. My words carried in this abandoned factory.
"Well," she said as she shifted to a theatrical thinking pose. "It's a sticky pickle of a situation here, isn't it? Discard has escaped and thrown me off her scent, and when I tried to follow I found a normal teenage girl who has very questionable hangout preferences. What should I do, then, except to go back to tell everyone of her brilliant escape?"
I knocked my head against the wall. "You're a hero, one of the best heroes. Alexandria may be one of my ideals, but truthfully? Mouse Protector is my aspiration. She wouldn't leave when the villain is in front of her."
"Ah, truly, this is something Mouse Protector would never do," said Mouse Protector in a humorous tone. "But what if she doesn't see a villain?"
I held out my hands, palms up and empty. "Are you for real?"
"I am always for real, young lady."
"Then why aren't you arresting me?" I asked. Why was I asking her that? Did I want to be arrested? No, I didn't; but I couldn't stand what was happening. The emotions that ran high during the fight, the playful banter I had to prepare and think up on the fly, the excitement of battle and being on the edge every second lest the heroes finally catch me, had yet to die down.
"Gasp! Have you committed a crime? I suppose loitering counts, but kids will be kids," she said exasperatedly.
"Come on, MP, you caught me. I thought I got away but made the same mistake others made; I underestimated you," I rambled. "Just because I'm not wearing an awesome costume doesn't mean I'm not a criminal. You can't just walk away without doing anything."
Mouse Protector waited for me to continue, but I continued to try and meet her eyes despite her helmet. She rubbed the tips of her metal mouse ears and fell down to sit cross-legged, with both hands on her knees. "I'm not walking away, I'm teleporting."
"Hah! That's sophistry," I said.
"Ah, words are important, you know? Using one instead of the other can change the meanings of things so easily," mused Mouse. "Like a hero chasing a thief, a simple example. If she arrives to find a thief? They battle it out until one is the victor, but if she arrives to find a girl? Both are correct, but it changes things."
"Surely you don't believe that," I said. "It changes nothing at all."
"Don't call me Shirley," she quipped. "And it changes everything."
Damnit, this went back to the unwritten rules, didn't it? To not unmask each other, trying not to casually commit murder, or going after loved ones. Those reasons all felt similar to why the heroes always asked me to surrender. To make me acknowledge my defeat, to not escalate past a certain point that we're all capable of. Take the warlords of Brockton Bay as an example, if Lung or Kaiser felt they had nothing left to lose? It would be catastrophic.
I knew some of the damage I could do, my [Forbidden Deck] containing the experiments not gone wrong, but perhaps gone horribly right. "Does it, though? Situations and circumstances apply no matter what rules people use."
"Ah, but there's no proof you are anything but a simple teenage girl! One who may have been unwittingly used by a thief to distract me from chasing her down even."
I pulled out a card and unsealed it, my body disappearing under the [True Magician's Mask]. "Greetings, my destined foe. Am I a simple teenager now?"
"Yep," said Mouse with flippant ease. "Although you look remarkably similar to a recently infamous thief. Why, you're practically twins!"
I felt anger boil up inside my heart, for even now when I've all but told her she should arrest me, Mouse Protector was still playing the fool. Why was I even going so far in this? It didn't make any logical sense, but I secretly knew why. I didn't want to be disappointed in one of my favorite heroes.
For the first time intentionally, I broke character. "Why!?"
I slammed a fist on the cold concrete, it lacking the impact and loud sound I dearly wished it had. "You caught me, congratulations. Hell, you've already seen my face and your superiors or whoever you're working with in the PRT know everything already. It's over already, everything is, and you're pretending otherwise instead of just taking me down like you should!"
My voice cracked. "Saying that you'd leave, just let me go when I'm at the tips of your fingers after all that? You can't, you just... You're Mouse Protector! I... how could you ever possibly think to let a villain go when they're right in front of you? It's not funny, not funny at fucking all. Not you, damn it."
Did it come back to that after all? "You're not just a hero, you're a Hero. After seeing how some heroes act, how some heroes are deep down."
Grue leaking blood all over his couch and Dauntless' fury as he heaved me up after beating me down coming to mind. "You can't be the same."
A gloved hand fell on my head and rubbed it, a childish act that I slapped away. Mouse Protector snorted. "Can't I also be human, Discard? Besides, I turned off my commlink before I teleported after you. I certainly didn't expect this, you have a convenient way to dress up. You wouldn't believe how difficult it can be to get in and out of armor!
"You know," she said and sat down beside me. "When I first watched your videos, the ones leaked online, I thought that it was something amazing. The speech you gave to the Wards, the one about proving your ideals? It really made me happy."
"What?" I asked.
"Both times you did a robbery you did something I have yet to see a villain do. Can you guess what it is?" asked Mouse Protector.
I replied with the first thing to come to mind, "I waited for them."
"Oh no, plenty of villains wait for the heroes to arrive, but always with ulterior motives or vile intentions," she said in disgust. I could imagine some of those intentions. "You tried to change what it meant to be a villain."
"That's not true," I argued. How did that make any sense?
"You said it yourself, that you would prove yourself better than the tyrants and warlords, to those abusing their power to violate the law in heinous ways, by giving the heroes a chance to take you down. Sure, no criminal wants to be arrested, but before Dauntless made all this into a big mess you had given the Wards two chances!"
"Where are you going with this?" I asked.
"Today, you came to the public apology to give Dauntless another chance, right? Come on, all he had to do was ask for it back and you would've given it to him. I waited, I really did, hoping he would do it," she said with a disappointed sigh. "So here I am, giving you a similar chance, I guess."
"So, what?" I pulled out the [Arclance]. "Just because I gave a chance to Dauntless, and was stupid enough to walk into a trap, you'd give a criminal a second chance to get away?"
"Everyone deserves second chances, Discard," she said seriously. "And thirds, and fourths, and fifths. A hero has to give them, to hope that it's enough to turn someone back to the force of good. Besides, you did escape! It's silly, but you gave it up to try and protect my heroic virtue. Do you consider yourself a villain? Wouldn't you like to be a hero?"
"I... can't. Discard is a villain, but me? If you asked me two weeks ago, I would've answered hero instantly. Now, though, I think I can't be anything but a villain."
"Why?" asked Mouse.
I shook my head. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to talk about this, how good it felt to just... try and explain things to someone else. Dad or the Undersiders weren't an option for different reasons, and other heroes hadn't shown that I could trust them at all. Maybe it was just her image, that her history was public, which made me want to trust her so badly. But...
"Because it feels right," I said in a half-truth I had gotten so good at telling.
She nodded. "Ah, born to the dark side, huh? The light had called to me, but my arch-nemesis Ravager was like you. Fu fu fu, tell you what, how about we trade?"
Mouse jumped up to her feet and held out a hand. "The Arclance for your freedom! I, the mighty Mouse Protector, have cornered you in a defunct factory. Alas, you, the crafty Discard, have tempted me with a distraction most important! To choose between you, the wily thief who had escaped every chase thus far, or to get the Arclance, a weapon that could save an unfortunate hero's career."
"That's the scenario then?" I asked as I shakily climbed to my feet. The [Silver Ring of Restoration] had already healed all my physical fatigue, but I was emotionally drained. Not even being in Discard Mode could snap me back into it.
I unsealed the [Arclance] and held it out for Mouse Protector. "I guess mice do get distracted by shiny things."
She grabbed the weapon and tried to take it, but my hand refused to let go. Oh, how I wanted to let go of it so badly but everything else refused with all my might. Mouse gave it another tug and stared at my hand. "That's birds and cats, my sworn enemies. How dare you even joke about such things."
I tried to pry my hand off with my other hand, but damn my grip was strong. "Suddenly I can't joke? Then all that's left is the serious business."
Mouse gripped the [Arclance] with both hands and pulled with her considerable strength. I fought against her and against myself, feeling the spear of white lightning, one of my only legendary cards, slip between my sweaty palms brought up nasty feelings I struggled to push down.
"Whew, you didn't give it up without a fight, huh?" Mouse Protector stared at my hand. "Chirping crickets, that's new"
I glanced down to see a jagged knife, its rusty blade broken in places and covered in fresh blood that dripped off the blade that glowed an ominous dark light. Holy hell, I immediately sealed that back. "Uh, so... no thief likes to give up their ill-gotten gains. I really like the [Arclance]. Like, a lot."
Mouse Protector nodded and I didn't miss how she held the [Arclance] in a professional stance ready to do, well, whatever she was going to do with it. Probably take me down. "Tis true the same for heroes, as we never like to see criminals escape justice."
She picked out a card from one of her pockets and held it out to me. I asked, "A business card?"
"Well, I might understand better than you think, so if you're ever feeling like you need to talk, call me. Okay?" It hurt to hear the concern in her voice, almost physically. "One day soon, we will no doubt be up against each other once more, good versus evil. Remember that there are people on your side, even if they're not by your side."
"That's cheesy," I retorted.
"Well, I am the Mouse Protector, after all!"
Mouse Protector stood there in a dramatic pose, finger pointed to the sky and the [Arclance] planted on the ground. We both stood there, me waiting for her to leave and her not moving an inch.
"Are you going to arrest me after all?" I asked.
"No, you tried to do good today in your own villainous way, and we had the heartfelt moment where the hero tries to convert the villain from the dark side. Girl, at least wait to get out of costume next time, okay? Nothing is more awkward than walking in on a villain pulling off a skintight suit."
"My change is instant, though."
"For the sake of young heroes, please!" she cried. "Also maybe villains if you swing that way."
I ignored that comment. "So why aren't you leaving? We, uh, traded already."
Her voice was tight. "I'm thinking of how to explain this to the PRT."
"What about that scenario you explained?"
Mouse Protector grabbed me by the shoulders and stared at me intensely through her visored helmet. "Discard, one thing you must always understand, and the reason I'm independent, is that the PRT is scary. Scarier than all the villains in the world."
I nervously laughed at that because damn she sounded so serious.
"Paperwork! Oh my whiskers the paperwork. I can't just tell them that scenario, or explain it in a debriefing. Nooo, they want a report with every detail I could imagine. They might find out I lied. Saucy spaghetti, what if they do? No, they would be happier to have Dauntless' dumb spear back."
"It's not dumb."
"And have you met Director Piggot? That lady, my gosh is she terrifying. She and Director Armstrong got Chevalier and Prism to help me put Ravager away for now, and while I do miss her and I hope she learns her lessons behind bars, so I could come to the Bay."
"Oh." What could I even say to that?
"Farewell, Discard, and the next time we meet it will be your downfall!"
Mouse Protector vanished in a teleport, and I was really wondering how long she could keep something marked to teleport to. I was leaning on that she had a quantity limit instead of a duration limit. I sealed my costume, noted that I should probably not do so immediately after escaping even if it is to maybe thwart a power, and sat back down against the wall.
"I already miss that dumb spear."
AN: Honestly? What do I even say about this chapter? Well, it definitely won't please everyone, or most people. I can already hear it now... 'too short!'
Last edited: Nov 3, 2018
1454
Glazt
Nov 3, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 2.s Pertinacity
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 8, 2018
#2,059
An update? God, I thought the fic was dead. But seriously, updates down to one, maybe two a week. Just...gotta...catch...my...breath. Figuratively, cause typing.
This chapter is kicked my ass up and down, and it's not the hottest. Still, its here and blah!
Much thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans as they are now upgraded from beta to editor-in-chief! (Same job, more thanks.)
And thank you, readers, I love you all (except you, you know who you are!)
2.s Pertinacity
-
"Wake up, ya lazy pigsticker."
She tried to go back to blissful unconsciousness but a kick to her thigh drove that desire away. Waking up was a task considering her brain felt like glue, stuck in a single thought and everything else whited out. Her teeth throbbed with a deep ache that was concerning but still ignored, as was the multitude of itches pains along her body.
It was an overall good morning as Sherrel wiped the dried vomit off her cheek, the acidic rawness to her throat now making sense. She managed to croak out, "What the ever-loving fuck do you want?"
Adam, or Skidmark since he was fully dressed up in his filthy excuse for a costume, was rifling around her shelves for something. "Bloody fart-munching nazis fucking think they're better than us, fucking everyone else laughing. Where the hell are your keys?"
Sherrel had barely sat up off her mattress, not a bed proper but just a dubious-stained futon that she ended up most nights after blacking out. She fumbled around the edge of it trying to find a bottle of pills, at least one of the dozen that wasn't empty, so she could stop the shaking in her arms and maybe clear up her migraine.
"The fuck? Don't touch my keys, Skids. God, it's early, the hell?" She popped several colored pills, half prescribed and the other half illegal. She had stopped using anything with needles after an extremely bad week because some asshole fucked something up, she never bothered learning the exact details.
"It's three p.m. so get your ass up. We got fucking work to do," said Skidmark as he found a ring of several keys, although they varied in size from normal to larger than a doorknob.
"Woah, hey, no touching!" Sherrel jumped up and snatched the keys out of his hands. "What the fuck, man?"
Skidmark's eyes were dark red with spots of yellow; the sclera was bloody. It added to his crazed look as he spewed spittle as he yelled. "Fuckin' everyone, Sher! Dumbass magician-wannabe cunt has been out there, robbin' shit solo and gettin' off easily. Heroes ain't worth a damn wank anymore, and everyone makin' plays. They callin' us the damn losers, walking all over us, but fuck them. We're gonna show them nobody fucks over the Merchants!"
"Sure, whatever," said Sherrel. "You still aren't driving my trucks without me, so wait a fucking minute."
She could feel the drugs beginning to kick in fully, finally getting her back into the proper headspace. All the disgusting sensations she felt everyday dwindled until she could ignore them, her thoughts clearing up that foggy cloud that always bugged her, but she always ended up very hungry as a consequence.
Of course she knew all of it was false feelings, her need for whatever high and drugs had left her so far in need that existing for a day without something to satisfy her cravings would be a far worse hell than what she was already living. A hell she woke up every day in and wondered how she got there, her memory fuzzier or forgotten when it went past a week.
There had been talk of a new villain, but they came and went so often in the Bay she didn't care. Always they would be pulled into a gang, killed by any number of things, or pulled in by the PRT. What made this one so different that it had Skidmark and other gangs starting to break the status quo?
Sherrel watched the video taken by a news reporter of Dauntless' apology and had to agree. How could three heroes not take down a little girl? It was pathetic, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe it somehow made the heroes less dangerous to tangle with.
"So, the hell we doing, Skids?" If it was a supply run, a smash and grab from a small pharmacy or local corner store, he wouldn't need her trucks.
His laugh sounded like a dog dry heaving. "What do you think? I called in all the shit-slurpin' wastes of space that call themselves Merchants, got Mush out front waiting on us, all so we can prove to them braindead ass-hats that we aren't to be messed with!
"We're hitting the damn hospital!"
"...That's the most fucking stupidest thing I've heard." And it was. Maybe it was how everything she had popped was finally, fully kicking in, maybe it was the way she hated being looked down upon or Skidmark's grin and fervor, or most likely it was a good excuse to drive and test out her latest cannon. "Just grabbing shit, right? Ain't messing with the hurt people?"
"Fucking of course, we ain't shit-spewing nazis! We grab everything and we go," said Skidmark.
Armsmaster's workshop was a product of his service to the Protectorate. Years had gone by, each filled with progress and advancement, which meant that there was a lot of outdated machinery that should've been sent to storage. It would have been the efficient thing to do in order to maximize his workspace, but Armsmaster instead would rather have them around in case they were needed for a project or as spare parts.
He had never considered letting another Tinker use them, yet it satisfied him to watch Kid Win operate his older spare equipment. The two tinkers, or three if he counted Dragon popping in and out of the discussion as she worked on her own projects from her own base in Canada, were going over some of the items recovered from Discard's battles.b
"Documenting item DO-5," started Colin as he did a laser scan of the Discarded Object. "Shape is that of a black flashlight, approximately two times larger in size than normal. Four thin metal rods with flat tips forming stands, an iron composite material, on the bottom. The device can be rotated on stands freely. Wattage is above the limit of what should be possible with the bulb and battery output."
Overall it was looking to be a plain example of Discard's work. Being the leader of the Protectorate had privileges, one of those being that he could inspect or repurpose recovered items if they're deemed safe by the PRT. It was with that flimsy reasoning he and Kid Win were documenting and disassembling those items to use in their tinkering.
Armsmaster finished and went over to view Kid Win's progress on the electroshock baton. Although he had handed off the supervision of the Wards to the PRT he still felt that he should be a mentor to the young Tinker due to how often he forgot to do so while trying to further his career.
"How is it progressing, Chris?" said Armsmaster.
Kid Win started before calming himself. "Great! Well, sort of great," he said sheepishly. "I got halfway through the notes before an idea really clicked. The electricity the shock baton uses disappears after a few seconds but I've run some tests using your computers—also thank you so much for helping me out—and I think I've nailed it down."
"You can harness it?"
Kid Win nodded fractionally. "Sort of. I tried a lot of ideas on how to keep the energy from vanishing but got nowhere. Instead I went about how I would use it and was working on this cannon, more of a turret really, but still nothing but suddenly I could see it being added onto my pistols as like an alternate firing mode or something and, well..."
So that was why his laser pistols were on the workbench looking slightly bulkier. "I had to raid your materials shelf, sorry."
Armsmaster smiled, or fractionally moved his mouth and cheeks. "It's okay, I'll help expedite it through review. Is it functional?"
"It should be," said Kid Win as he picked up his laser pistol. "Not as strong as the baton, maybe a minute of localized paralysis and it has a similar recharge rate unless I can improve it. It just felt easier, adding another laser type to it. If only that air blaster wasn't broken I could've maybe..."
A shame that it was broken given its potential to be improved upon with technology. Armsmaster had ideas for an exterior casing that would've improved and multiplied the air compression and shot power. It was useful to know that anyone could use Discard's tinker items if they figured out how, although he suspected a few were custom tailored, her costume for example.
"Good work. Write up a document explaining the changes and forward it to me," said Armsmaster.
Kid Win nodded. "Thanks."
He returned to his own workbench and began the process of documenting the next item. "Documenting item DO-7," he said as he put a black frying pan on the bench. It was supposed to be able to become coated in odd flames, and Assault had reported that while it was hot it wasn't pure fire and had a more physical state so he had easily endured any hit.
That thought made his mind go back to the debriefing of the entire apology fiasco. That was what he thought of it as, a fiasco, because even though they had accomplished a goal of theirs the apology was ruined. Not entirely by Discard's appearance, which was expected, but by Dauntless yet again.
Armsmaster was still conflicted on that subject.
Hours after the Dauntless Fiasco
"Dismissed," said Emily Piggot.
The conference room had hosted all of the Protectorate and Wards in what was an overall debriefing of the battle at the park. It had consisted of another breakdown of Discard's observed abilities, of which were expanding at a rapid pace, and going over recovered items and how she had used them.
Assault and Battery had given their own reports and observations that were mostly in line with Mouse Protector's. Although the independent hero had several unique opinions regarding what had happened in her report. The only hero who didn't report his observations was Dauntless.
"Armsmaster, Mouse Protector, stay for a moment," said Emily. Everyone else filed out of the room and Miss Militia cast a glance at Mouse Protector, who gave her a thumbs up in return, before closing the door. Emily drummed her fingers on the desk while staring at Mouse.
Mouse Protector stood at attention, shockingly straight with her hands clasped behind her back. The room's silence was broken as Emily spoke, "I brought you in as an expert in this... unique situation."
"Yes, ma'am!" replied Mouse Protector.
"So?" asked Emily.
Mouse Protector met the eyes of the Director of the PRT ENE and flinched. "Sorry, right."
"What's the real report after you chased down Discard?" asked Emily as she shifted in her seat.
"Ah, well, you see," started Mouse Protector. She took off her helmet and set it on the conference table showing a woman with strawberry blonde hair cut short to one side, green eyes and numerous scars that covered her jaw and disappeared below her neckline. "How'd you guess?"
Emily snorted at the thought that she wouldn't have figured it out. "You recovered the Arclance from a thief that turns objects into cards, and said thief escaped a teleporter who had the thief tagged. Both of those things are impossible with your report."
Mouse rubbed her neck and pulled out a chair to sit down in. "Yeah, I figured as much, but you didn't really expect me to catch her, did you?"
Emily chewed on that remark and nodded. "True, not after she escaped from being foamed down. The plan was going well, Assault and Battery being her counters much like Aegis is until she revealed her short-range teleport. Annoying, but salvageable. With those two working alongside you to bring Discard into containment foam range worked perfectly. It was a miscalculation on our thinker's part about her limit. We assumed it was something she had to build up to, but it seems that Discard can push herself if needed, given that we saw what happens when she reaches that limit.
"Severely increased fatigue to the point of physical collapse. If not for her having a long-range teleportation item, which is now broken but still recovered, we would've successfully captured her." Emily knocked her knuckles lightly against the wooden table they sat at. "And yet you disappeared after going dark and then came back with the Arclance in hand and no criminal."
Emily closed her eyes and went through her plans. "As expected, yes. We currently do not have the capability to hold Discard, something that is being looked into, without her total surrender. Which is why I also expected you, Mouse Protector, to secure that surrender."
"Ha ha, spot on," agreed Mouse Protector. "But if you wanted a surrender why did you order Assault and Battery to go easy if Discard showed up?"
Emily clicked her tongue, a rare expression of her annoyance at the situation as a whole. Yes, it would have been a fantastic idea to have two semi-brutes beat down the girl in front of the news cameras during a public apology for that exact thing. "We were fencing her in. Now, what do you have to say?"
"Hmm," Mouse tilted her head side to side. "Honestly it's a bad situation, but also a really good one."
Emily gestured for her to go on.
"Well, I arrived expecting another battle of epic proportions but found a teenage girl instead. It was obvious she was Discard, she's very easy to read, and was going to leave until she stopped me. Also, I'm like pretty really super positive her power is dimensional voodoo like Myrrdin. I've had similar awful reactions in teleporting around him."
"Wait," said Emily. She inhaled and exhaled slowly before pinching the bridge of her nose. "You saw Discard unmasked?"
Mouse smiled. "Yep."
"And didn't convince her to come in?"
"Well no, she was unmasked. I was going to leave because of that and, like I was saying, she stopped me." Mouse chuckled a little before it died down and she frowned. "Director Piggot, Discard has most likely had bad experiences with heroes, or maybe the lack of. As she is most likely a native to Brockton Bay I would consider looking into past events and keep a closer eye on your heroes."
Mouse Protector glanced over her shoulder toward Armsmaster. "The PRT is overseeing the Wards and while they all seem like nice kids, maybe keep an eye out for odd or suspicious details. I believe she might also be a serious example of a Case Sixty-Six."
Emily grimaced even if she suspected something like that from the character profile. "She has a severe, uncontrollable power requirement?"
"It may be greed or a need to steal, but her power changed something. She was very reluctant to hand over the Arclance, even to the point of trying to pry her own hand off the weapon. When she finally let go..." Mouse Protector sighed. "Discard unknowingly pulled a dangerous weapon."
"Dangerous how?" asked Emily. "So far she has shown the tendency to use odd implements as her base weaponry."
"A knife that made me want to scurry away immediately," said Mouse Protector with a nervous chuckle. "She herself seemed surprised at her own actions."
Yet another thing Emily hated about capes and something that justified her opinion of them. "Is there any danger to heroes?"
"Nah," shrugged Mouse as she smiled. "Shouldn't be a problem unless we steal from the thief. I'm confident that if we can corner her next time she'll come quietly. Whew, just the thought of that girl in the Wards makes me shiver for the greater good!"
Emily glared at Mouse Protector. She had seen the girl unmasked, but since Mouse was an affiliate and here in an advisory role not directly under the PRT she couldn't order Discard's identity to be revealed and it might cause the hero to become rebellious if Emily asked. "Can you corner her?"
Mouse banged a fist to her chest. "Of course!" She then punched that fist into her open hand. "Next time there's no holding back."
"Good," said Emily. "Remember that you're not here just for Discard. Ever since her appearance, or more likely entirely due to her appearance and its damned publicity, the status quo in this city is going to hell. In the last two weeks, we've had more open crimes being perpetrated and more likely to come. Be prepared for it.
"Armsmaster, what's the status on Dauntless?" asked Emily.
"Director." he nodded in response. "He was unable to use the Arclance upon recovery, but that changed when he used his latest charge on it. It appears that Discard's Trump rating is potentially higher if she can prevent capes from accessing powers or gaining control over those she steals. Miss Militia has been informed already of its implications."
"So we have a child on the loose that has a need to steal, a desire to appear non-threatening with a persona, can steal weapons and armor or overwrite certain powers, cannot be confined with standard means, and has been showing an alarmingly large amount of abilities, each not impressive by themselves but are stacking up to be very considerable. Just wonderful."
Emily dismissed the two heroes with a small wave of her hand. It was at times like these she wished she could drink herself under the table, but she had a job to do and a city to keep from burning itself to the ground. It was just another Tuesday for Emily Piggot.
Squealer was riding high as they sped down the freeway in a monstrosity that anyone but her would hesitate to call a vehicle. The front truck with like someone had smashed two cars and a jeep together and fused them with giant staples then slathered it with a bunch of random paints. Its trailer and the second engine in the back was an amalgamation of a bus and a tractor sporting dozens of varying size headlights, a massive blue box of intertwined tesla coils spouting blue electricity, and several turrets on each side only defeated by the single barrel tank cannon on the top.
The mere sight of such a thing barreling toward them would terrify an ordinary driver, but that was only if they could see it. As much pride as Squealer had about her baby, it was also that same pride which made her do everything possible to prevent the damn heroes and other villains from smashing it up. So many of her priceless treasures had been ground into scrap metal that a lesser tinker would've given up entirely!
Skidmark had a concerned look and an excited grin on his face as they sped through traffic in the invisible, silent behemoth. Squealer wanted to deck him in his rotted teeth for that look which basically screamed he doubted her driving skills. That, or it was her maniacal laugh and yelling out in road rage at idiot drivers in her way.
"Ya got two minutes, babe," said Squealer. Despite her constant swerving in and out of the lines, her stabilizers made the entire ride rock steady causing the ride to feel surreal when someone looked out the window.
"Alright, ya dirty, dust sniffing derelict jockeys!" yelled Skidmark. Sitting in the trailer side on torn up bus seats or leaning against the walls were nearly thirty people. Each of them looked like a true Merchant with ripped up clothing, colored armbands denoting their accomplishments and loyalty, tired eyes, crazed smiles, and a deep set physical fatigue.
"We're hitting the fucking hospital in a couple minutes! Already did that pompous grand-ass speech to recruit you bootlickers, so y'all know what the fuck is up. Grab every drug and bottle not nailed to the fucking floor and get the hell out of dodge. Need some of you fuckers to man the turrets to not let the cumstain heroes swipe Squealer's getaway ride. Volunteers?"
"Aww, thanks Skids!" cooed Squealer.
Several hands went up, mostly the ones who didn't look capable of carrying much. "Well shit, there we go."
A massive mound of debris and trash moved near the end and rose up to the ceiling as others prepared their baseball bats, crowbars and other weapons. Some had handguns or an odd shotgun, each firearm rusted and about to fall to pieces just as likely as they were to fire.
Squealer laughed as she turned off the stabilizers and hard-braked, the massive vehicle skidding to a stop just near the back entrance of the hospital that was filled with ambulances and expensive cars. A wall near Mush hissed and fell down to become a loading ramp.
"Let's go swipe some loot!" screamed Skidmark, the Merchants rushing out in a frenzy. Windows were broken open and doors kicked down as over twenty drug-addled people stormed Brockton General. Squealer reached around on her person for a bottle of pills as she felt her high coming down a bit, but cursed as she wasn't wearing anything with pockets.
The Merchants that stayed behind climbed up on the roof to man the turrets and to keep an eye out for cops or heroes. Squealer still wasn't so hot on the whole raiding a hospital to prove their worth plan, but she wasn't the leader of their group. She followed Skidmark because...
It was hard to remember exactly why. They had been dating for a long while, years really, when it was just Adam and Sherrel. That was before she knew he was a cape, before she went through one of the worst weeks of her life. Yet her slow descent into what she was now was arguably worse than that.
She had changed, Adam had definitely changed, and she followed him because he hadn't really steered them wrong before. Right?
"Uh, I think I see heroes?" questioned some girl from above. Squealer didn't have time to think stupid things, thoughts she blamed on not being wasted enough, but even she didn't trust her own driving when she was blasted out of her mind.
Squealer opened one of the windows and stuck her head out. Three blurs were speeding down the street at them, two red and one blue. What were they expecting, a slow response on a hospital attack? "Fuck! Light'em up!"
The multitude of turrets exploded with sound as they shot down at the heroes. It would've been a sight to behold if it were bullets, but bullets and gunpowder were expensive as hell and beyond Squealer's price range. Instead, she had made each turret shoot what scrap metal and plastic they had in mounds, like bottles and soda cans.
Velocity, for he was probably the extra fast red blur, went around the massive vehicle and into the hospital before anything could even try to hit him. Assault slowed down as he got within range and took the shots as every turret focused on him. Idiots, all of them, because of course he was playing up as the target!
He didn't even flinch as he jogged through the weaponized debris, clearly distracting everyone so that only Squealer had seen the blue bitch coming in from the side. She jumped into the driver seat, throttled two pedals and shifted gears causing the entire truck to spin around. At the same time, she fired up the massive cannon on top and took a shot at Assault.
The thunderous blast made the vehicle, literal tons of metal, tilt to the side with its recoil. A compounded metal scrap ball slammed into Assault and stopped dead before dropping to the ground. The hero called out with glee, "You guys really dropped the ball this time!"
Fuck, she loved her Tankbusotron but she already knew where this was going. Assault hopped on one foot experimentally before kicking off the asphalt. He slammed into the vehicle just as Squealer bailed through the door on the driver's side. She made it to a broken window just as her poor vehicle was literally torn in two.
All the Merchants that had been on top were rounded up off to the side by Battery atnd zip-tied together. What the fuck? She had watched the video of them fighting that magic villain and they didn't pull anything like this!
She wanted to scream her curses and taunt them, but luckily they were busy amongst themselves for the moment.
Battery angrily yelled, "Assault, be serious!"
Assault yelled back, "Sorry, but I saw a handsome red hero banter on T.V.! It's what all the young kids are doing now, you know?"
Squealer cursed as she darted inside. She had to tell Skidmark that the escape plan had turned into a run for your lives plan. Inside of the hospital were a lot of people either cowering behind desks or in rooms only peeking out to see what was going on. As she made her way through the halls, and fuck was this place bigger than she thought, there were Merchants knocked out or cuffed with zip-ties about.
She cut each one free that she ran by but stopped at a particular room at the end of the hall. Six guys were unconscious just beyond the doorway, out cold and piled on top one another. A white and red hood was peeking out from the edge with a glare that dared Squealer to enter for whatever drugs they were trying to find.
An explosion and manic scream came from down the hall on her right. Squealer recognized Skidmark's voice and ran toward them. Down the hall and another left, she came upon Skidmark standing in a circle of his power, protected by layers of his momentum strips as Velocity tried to get through.
Meanwhile, a dozen feet further down a wall to the hospital was destroyed as Mush was thrown through a wall by what must've been Glory Girl without her costume on. "Attacking a hospital? You sick freaks have no shame!"
Mush roared and punched Glory back through the same wall.
"Skids, fuck man, they broke my truck! We gotta get out of here," she said.
"No, fucking these salt-spitting pussies ain't better than us! We're the fucking Merchants!" screamed Skidmark to the point his voice was raw. "No asian cunt and nazi shits and fucking white hat goody-two-fuckers are better than me! You don't get to look down on me! Fucking none of you! Who do you think you are?"
Squealer was torn between trying to help her boyfriend or bailing but knew she couldn't do anything. Fuck, she decided to get out. If she could make it out maybe she could bust them out of jail, or maybe they would win and run away as well. She went into a nearby room, climbed out the window, and sprinted for her life.
Across the street, down the sidewalk, ignoring all the onlookers, she fled into the alleys and only slowed down due to her body refusing to breathe. Squealer was definitely not in shape as she bent over and gasped for air.
Her leg gave out sending her sprawling to the ground. No, it didn't give out. The acidic agony hit her a second later with the scream that tore from her pained lungs. Something dark and metal was jutting from her leg, her lifeblood bubbling up around the puncture point and beginning to ooze out.
"You're faster than you look," said someone. A girl, younger than Squealer and her voice was weird, not that she had the capacity of mind to care at the moment. A foot was planted on the small of her back before violently smashing her to the ground. "I would say vermin like you scurry, but that'd be insulting rats. You're more like maggots."
Squealer's stomach heaved, vomit mixing in her throat as she tried to simultaneously scream, when a hand ripped the metal thing from her leg. She heard it hit something hard and the cocking of something. "Finally, something going my way. Really living up to your name there. Everyone's seem to have lost their minds recently, it's disgusting. Playing around and acting like idiotic kids."
Squealer tried to move, to flee and crawl away but her body, her mind, wasn't responding. Who, what, and why ran through her head but all she could see was the cement and garbage around her. Was it ironic that it was also the first thing she saw every day when waking up?
"Ah," the girl sighed with such relief that it was disturbing. "This is really going to make my day."
There was a sound like a rubber band snapping and something cold buried itself through her stomach. Squealer's body became ice and fire when whoever was standing on her pulled the bolt out of her with a laugh.
She heard nothing as she felt the weight lift off her back, yet had no strength to move. There was something about not moving prevented agitating wounds, but Squealer doubted that it would matter. Her only friends, or people who sort of cared about her if at least for her power, were probably captured.
Here she was, bleeding out in a gutter, and regretted she didn't have anything to take the edge off. Dying, after the last few miserable years of degeneration and being ostracized. How else did she think her fate would be?
"F-f-" She tried to say. Fuck that! She wasn't dying because some bitch wanted to shank her for her pleasure! Slowly her arms scraped against the ground as she pulled her body along. Every second was horrible, but there had to be heroes around. They would recognize her, they would save her, they had to. That's their whole fucking deal!
Squealer could barely see the street, hear the sirens in the distance, and the running then slowing steps of someone passing by.
"—you okay? I'm on my way now. Y-Yeah, I borrowed one from a friend. Yes. Dad, look that isn't important right—of course I care! Just," said another girl.
With every ounce of air in her lungs, Squealer yelled! And then fumbled over the words and coughed violently.
The steps slowed.
"Oh fuck," said the girl. "Something-came-up-bye."
Squealer tried to look up, to see who it was, to speak for help.
"Holy, what… hold on! Shit, you're Squealer. Okay, okay," breathed the girl.
"Okay."
AN: Yeah, after a rewrite and my beta helping discuss it, I just can't make this chapter what I really want without a loooot of hours. So its here to stay, and forgive its everything. Time to move on to the cooler kids table with Discard!
Last edited: Nov 9, 2018
1113
Glazt
Nov 8, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.1 Entente
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 11, 2018
#2,219
Another update, another-WAIT HEY I SEE YOU SCROLLING PAST MY AUTHOR INTRO. Jeez, calm down, we authors may put out words but that fic ain't going anywhere yet. So, update schedule TBD, but middle of the week somewhere and weekend. Wow am I vague or what? Sorry, just expect it somewhere around there, yeah?
Many thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans and Massgamer for being cool betas!
And thank you, readers, for your time.
3.1 Entente
-
Movies had made several moments of my villainous career a disappointment, from the bank vault door to fighting sound effects. I might have been a sucker for wanting to believe in the sanctity of Hollywood, but with this latest fact my hope may have completely died. Every scene of somebody holding someone else by the hand, preventing that nefarious fall off whatever towering building or cliffside, then pulling them up with the determination of will?
It's bullshit.
Discovering someone bleeding out from two horrendous wounds, only to discover that it was a local cape of a criminal gang, had made me hesitate for two seconds to collect my thoughts. They weren't thoughts of 'why Squealer' and 'who the hell did this' or 'how she was still alive'. It wasn't even a debate of morals as to whether I should help or not.
It was if I was strong enough to carry her. The answer was no.
I had immediately torn off my healing ring and put it on her finger, its glistening gold polish standing out against her filthy body. I hesitate to even call it skin given that I couldn't see any beneath the black and brown grime, slick red blood, and other refuse clinging to her.
Even with the dire situation, I made sure to double check my surroundings before unsealing my costume. It was still odd now that I knew what to look for. As the [True Magician's Mask] came over me, I felt the view of the world shift subtly. The tones of colors brightened just a touch and the bloody mess that was a person at my feet no longer made me feel utter revulsion and undaunted worry.
I was still feeling those emotions but they weren't as... important I would say. Distracting would be another way to describe it. My thoughts weren't cleared, but I was able to think more clearly. I still didn't know what other effects my costume had on me but it was a likely reason as to my strange moments of competency.
Back to my crushing movie revelations. Yes, Squealer was just a little bit taller than me, blonde hair I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be that brown, a body type that I would have to use my power to steal to have any chance at, and couldn't have weighed much more than me.
So as I felt my bones creak and muscles tearing with each step I wondered how the hell she was so heavy! The blood trail was too conspicuous so every alley or two I would double back and seal the blood off the ground. Disgusting, I know, but since it was one large connected smear as I dragged Squealer my power considered it only a few cards instead of a dozen.
I was worried about Squealer though because my ring still hadn't woken her up by the time I got us into an abandoned warehouse. Obviously I used my power to break into it, and the warehouse was either abandoned or in extreme disrepair like most in the city nowadays. It didn't matter to me since it had enough space for me to unseal my [Cozy Container] inside.
The inside was mostly the same as before, a pleasant yellow of carpet-quality padding, with the exception of the furnishings. Sealing items inside bags or containers worked so far so I had tested it on the largest container I knew. I had a small couch, a similar yellow as to what I combined with the container, a table, two lamps on a stand at each end, and a four-layered display shelf with wood trim and glass viewing doors.
It was a work in progress.
I put Squealer on my couch while ignoring the irony of now having a bleeding person on my good couch, and was thankful that I had experience in this exact situation. When I took a seat at my flimsy card table and let my sore muscles relax I realized that I should've put on my second ring beforehand. Just because hindsight was twenty-twenty didn't stop me from immediately putting it on and enjoying not feeling like shit.
That was when the screaming started.
Squealer was thrashing about on my now-ruined couch—something I would rectify—in what was sounding like extreme agony. I was almost impressed with her ability to scream curses out between each breath, but more importantly, I was scared and had no idea what to do!
"Fu-fuc-agh! They're in my blood!" Her breathing was panicked and gasping, during which she tore off the dirty scarf and goggles she used as a mask, as she began trying to claw at her eyes. "Adam! Ad-fuck!"
"Hey, hey. calm down, damn it!" I held her hands down to prevent her from trying to rip off her own face when she went dead still and quiet. She had just stopped cold and dropped. I had no fucking clue what I was doing, my only real medical experience is reading that help book in my first aid kit and movies. So I listened to see if Squealer was breathing.
She wasn't.
What was it, fuck, CPR? I knew only from reading up on it and movies, but fuck if I was going to freeze at a critical moment. Tilt the head back, straighten the throat, pump on the chest for lungs or something, and breathe? I could only blame my power and costume for the thought that this was not how I expected my first kiss to be.
Why hadn't my ring worked? Well, it did, seeing the previously bleeding wounds had scabbed over and most likely healing whatever was wrong with Squealer. I had to consider what I knew about my power's quirks.
The [Ring of Restoration] healed quickly and helped recover and boost the gains from my workouts or recovering physical fatigue. I figured it would be the word restoration because my power is both vague and deliberate on the names of cards.
So if it healed that security guard, Grue, as well as myself, then what did it base itself on for restoration? Not peak health as it didn't make me suddenly a brute or very pretty, the security guard less fat, or Grue any different. Was it based on the self-image of whoever wore it? How did it work on dogs then, did they instinctively know how they should feel? If that was the case, then what was Squealer's self-image like?
It hit me; she had been a drug lord and user for at least a couple years.
Squealer sputtered as she began heavily breathing, only to go back into hysteria. This was not going at all how I wanted.
My cellphone rang. A spike of anger hit me at the thing having the audacity to interrupt my thoughts or make the situation any worse, so I sealed it instead of throwing it across the room like I wanted to.
Crisis resolving skills were not in my repertoire, but they were becoming an annoyingly common experience. Squealer wasn't exactly my size but she could learn to deal as I unsealed the [Pain-Relieving Sleepwear] over her. It was about the only thing I could think to do without resorting to drastic measures.
Her thrashing calmed down to twitching, her eyes no longer roaming crazily and her breaths slowed down while still being labored. Some semblance of sanity was restored to Squealer to my fucking delight. "Hey, you're safe. Sort of safe, but I need you to calm down. I have no idea what to do and I need you to help me help you."
Squealer clutched at her chest, glanced down at her skanky clothes having disappeared in favor of bloody-bandage sleepwear, and I could literally watch the emotions play out on her face. Was this what Regent meant when he said I was easy to read?
I cut that panic off with something only Discard could do. I hopped back a step so I was slightly off the ground and was in Squealer's full view. "It's me, the megalomaniacal villain, Discard! Please stay calm and orderly or you might, uh, have another heart attack."
"Fucking what? What's going on? That bitch shot me!" Squealer clutched her chest, or right below it to where her wound was still healing, "I... I feel like shit. Fuck, fuck... the hospital. Goddamn, I can't even think. Hey, whatever Dis, got anything for that?"
Well, at least she wasn't frothing at the mouth and dying, but by the sickly pallor of her face and everything else, it was safe to assume that the ring and lack of pain were the only reason she was alive. Removing them right now might just kill her for good.
"Wait, what heart attack?" she sputtered.
I plopped back into my chair and crossed my legs in a sitting style, not one leg over the other. I needed to project a friendly look, not a condescending or a haughty one like I do for heroes. This... she wasn't a hero, but right now she wasn't a villain. It always seemed to come back to the humans behind the masks.
I sighed dramatically and pointed a finger at Squealer. "You died for a bit there. Also if you're asking for drugs I have none. You were lying in a pool of your own blood, having crawled from a good distance away somehow, and asked for help. Who would I be if I didn't give it?"
"Not a shitty villain?" Okay, wow, low blow. Do I take that as a compliment to my persona or insult to my pride? Both and note to pay it back at a later date.
"Yes, yes, so I healed you with the best ability I had on me, my [Gold Ring of Restoration]. Bad quirk of it is that it apparently functions on what I'm thinking is the owners subconscious perception of their self. That means—"
Squealer groaned. "Aw I'm fucked. Cleaned me inside and out and now my body wants to get fucked up so bad it's killing me."
I nodded; she caught on fast. "More or less. The clothes are the type to greatly relieve pain. I admit I'm at a bit of a loss, Squealer, because at the moment I can't help you any more than I already have. Maybe if I had time, but I don't know if we do. I'm glad you're lucid at least because, uh, yeah."
Squealer tried to get off the coach and gave that up quickly. "Fuck, just moving is shit. How long 'til your magic stuff breaks or runs out of juice?"
That... was it a good question? "Don't know, really. Never? I've worn a ring for a week and it never stopped working."
Squealer laughed pityingly at her own situation, the tearful hitch in her breath telling. "Then it could be anytime. Fuck me, some bitch wanted to shank me cause they were having a bad day, and now I'm stuck in a little kid's secret hideout."
Okay, extremely rude. Make that two notes for later payback. "Can we wait it out? Whatever is going on with you."
Squealer gave me a look like I was stupid. "Are you stupid?"
Three strikes.
"Sorry, not sorry, I don't do drugs. If we have time then I might be able to do something, maybe," I said. "Anything you can do? I don't have a lot, but I could get stuff you need if you can build something. Believe it or not, but you should considering I'm helping you, I'd rather not have anyone die."
Squealer sank a bit back into the couch. "Maybe I could... no, that would take days. Fuck my head hurts like a bitch, but I could probably, I don't know. I don't know! It's so hard to think. Like, I'm super thankful, girl, but my boyfriend and his crew were probably just arrested for...
"Why the hell did I think a hospital gig was fucking okay? God, Skids was making so much sense at the time, his smile and that look in his eye, I was just swept up with it." Squealer brushed her hair out of her face which was slick with sweat. "No time to feel fucking sorry for myself. I wasn't going to give that bitch the pleasure of kicking me six feet under then, not gonna give myself that same shit now."
"Right then, mystery girl who shot or shanked you can wait for later, you dying is bad. Let's do something about that," I agreed. "You're a Tinker, but all I know is you sort of work with vehicles. I'm a magician, obviously, but I'll let you in on a secret."
I leaned forward and stage-whispered, "I can make magic."
"No fucking duh, that's what a magician does. Also, no fucking duh, you have a magic healing ring. Yeah, I work with vehicles, bigger they are the better. Why?"
Well it wasn't like she was an idiot after all, but I supposed I could give Squealer a break on her attitude considering the circumstances. "Magic. It's not just limited to rings or stuff. It's anything as long as I have materials, sort of like a Tinker but less planning and more guessing. Do you think you can, I don't know, build something if I helped?"
Squealer closed her eyes and looked like she was going to drift off to sleep or drop within the minute before she scratched her head with both hands. "Shit, I guess? It's not how I work, and even working like this? Not fucking happening, not on a big rig. Something smaller is hard, and it has to be… well, it's… shit. How easy is it to make a healing thing?"
I shrugged. "Like thirty bucks, maybe sixty depending on the grocery store."
"That's dumb. I'm going to ignore that shit for now, cause I have no idea what the fuck you mean. Damn, I got none of my tools." Squealer let out a whine that was half exasperation and half annoyance. "Hey, uh... "
I posed with my hands on my hips. "Discard."
"Sure, Dissy," she said. What the hell is it with villains I meet and shortening my name? It's two syllables, same as Dissy. "I… god, this is brutal, but fucking thanks. Thank you. It's hard to think, kinda blurry all over here, but damnit I ain't gonna be a punk about it. I owe you several, and if I can do one more, get my shit? Steal it for me or whatever."
Well, I can't say I've ever taken a commission to steal before, let alone at all, especially from the person who was asking. Was it still stealing? Let's just go with that it was stuff that wasn't mine and hope my power agreed. It was still growing restless.
"Sure thing, time and place, when and where, name it and I'll claim it," I said simply..
"Where the hell was it, Sixth and Burnett? Somewhere around there, white brick building with green doors. It's a shit place, you can't miss it, just go downstairs and grab everything that looks expensive. Or cheap. Fuck it, get it all if you can?"
I shrugged. "Don't die while I'm out?"
"God, don't even joke. It's fucking terrifying already," she hissed.
I opened the door of my container and paused. Squealer had laid back down on the couch and draped an arm over her eyes. I… pretty sure she was crying. Right, I would too. Damn, it made me think back to bad nights. "I'll be back."
I shut the door as I left and took a minute to gather myself. It was a lot to take in, even if I could stay above the water with whatever mentality my costume was helping me with. Discard was a villain, a persona crafted deliberately for a reason, but as I went further along with it I was losing sight of it.
Still a villain, but I don't think I ended up a joke. But as a villain, it didn't mean I couldn't be good. Just because I was a villain didn't mean I had to be a villain.
Considering I had no idea where those streets Squealer mentioned were I decided to do the easy thing and look at a map. Yes, I had one sealed even if it took me two different unsealings to get to it. I carried everything around, but I didn't carry around five decks! Only two or three, even the one I shouldn't.
I want to say that I zipped over with my flight, found it, and flew back within half an hour. Reality was harsh as I sealed my costume, spent three whole hours walking and navigating the city and then another twenty minutes trying to locate the building. All the while worrying over whether I would be coming back to a dead woman.
The building was everything I imagined a hideout that the Merchant's operated out of would look like, with the smell three times worse. I became Discard, for I wasn't looting a place as Taylor, and entered from the back.
Well, entered and started taking everything that wasn't nailed down. That was also an expression because it didn't matter, I took that stuff too. Nobody was inside the three-story building, probably deserted due to the hospital incident, and I had a void to fill even if the trash I was grabbing didn't do much. A robbery a day kept the void at bay.
It wasn't that I wanted the stuff either, but I didn't know what materials a Tinker would use. Doors, cabinets, a table, tiles from the floor, the light bulbs themselves? Anything that I could touch I took as I waltzed through the building, all three stories and ending up with enough that Squealer could probably build a small shack out in the woods with it.
Then I headed into the basement level where she had told me to go.
If I thought the smell was bad upstairs, it was twice as bad downstairs. Trash bags, bottles, and stains that I didn't want to know about covered… everything. There wasn't a floor proper, just more filth. Only one area was actually clean, the far wall that had a little foot-high barrier that kept the garbage from flowing over into it.
Inside was a thin frame with wheels, half the size of a car with paper nailed against the wall behind it. Sketches, crude with graphite or pencil, were such a mess I couldn't comprehend it, but she had said to take everything.
I guessed it was something like a prototype frame, to check against scaling or to build off of. The real world version of a sketch model but I didn't know anything about actual engineering. My power gave me a break with that and only demanded several other things instead.
Wrenches and a couple toolboxes, a thing I thought was a chainsaw without the saw part, a blowtorch, weird contraptions I was positive were tinker-tools, and then the workbenches themselves.
The void was moderately happier at just the collection I had gathered from this one room than with the entire building I stripped above it. Tinkertech, or power items, or hell just power related things, in general, made the void extremely pleased.
Not sure how I'll feel about giving them up. Maybe it's a loaner and Squealer owes me a life debt? Not the kind of things I wanted to think about.
It was another hour and a half, with the sun having already set before I made it back to where I left Squealer. Trepidation hit me as I opened the door to the [Cozy Container] as I fully expected to walk into a grisly sight.
I didn't expect to see my lamps torn apart and my couch salvaged for its springs and parts of its frame.
"Uh, I'm back," I said weakly.
Squealer coughed in surprise, her attention had been focused on whatever she was doing with the various items. It was also wet, probably bloody, and made me wince. There was anger for her having broken what was mine, but I let it slide. Circumstances matter, and they weren't valuable at all.
"Hey, Dissy," she said with a wave and nervous grin. Not due to having been caught, but she looked worse than I remembered. "Got the shit?"
I held two large decks of cards. "Yeah? Not sure, to be honest."
Squealer bit her lip. "Any, uh, bottles? Like, wouldn't need all this trouble if—"
"Heck no," I stated.
"Now hey, I said thanks and all, but this? Fucking, if I just downed something, anything at all, I'd feel a shit ton better. Then, hey, we could focus on this thing, right? Wouldn't matter, I'd be good, you'd be happy or whatever." Squealer stood up, wobbled a bit as she got to her feet.
"You can barely stand! Jeez, you died, literally your heart stopped. It's because you do drugs that you're in this mess anyway," I replied. "What if you take something and it kills you in your current state, huh? Or if my healing ring decides its toxic and purges it anyway?"
Squealer picked up the thing she had made, two bars wound around each other laced with the lamp's wiring and other bits cobbled together on the end. She pulled back a lever, it ground against the rest of the shaft, and the whole thing erupted into white electricity.
The fuck, didn't she only make vehicles?
"You don't get to make that decision," Squealer spat. "It's my fucking body, and it's my fucking life! Hand over my shit and we're square, alright? Just a bit, maybe like seven pills tops, and we can do this thing. We can still do this thing, Dissy. I don't want to feel like shit or die, but fuck! Where do you get off telling me what I can and can't do?"
I was in my costume, I was Discard at that moment, but I felt like I was Taylor. I didn't pull out a weapon or argue back. "You're right."
Squealer faltered. "W-What?"
I spread the decks of cards onto the table, each one side by side with nameplates and pictures detailing what they were. Anything that was a duplicate or similar was stacked, and I sat down in my chair and unsealed another for Squealer.
She looked between me and the cards a few times, confusion evident on her face. "I'm right?"
"What did you expect me to do?" I asked. "You're right. Squealer, I want to help you, but I'm not here to control you. This… I'm not a gang or something that needs a Tinker. I'm more of a concerned citizen, even if what you and your gang did was atrocious. Attacking a hospital, peddling drugs, all of that? Doesn't matter right now. I came across a person asking for help and I decided to give it."
I rolled a hand toward the table of cards. "I'll help however I can, but this here? It's your decision."
Squealer hesitated before switching off the weapon. "Uh, thanks. Fuck, this… isn't how it usually goes. This one and this one, then."
She tapped two cards, a green pill bottle and a yellow one, the nameplates generic [Pill Bottle]. I unsealed them with my own tap, Squealer's eyes going wide as she watched. "Shit that's convenient."
She opened them up and was about to devour them, I could see it in how her shoulders tensed, jaw tightened and I could empathize with the odd hunger even if hers wasn't power based. Squealer trembled before setting them on the table. "I can't. God, what if it actually killed me? Later, there's always later."
I nodded. "Always later. Can I ask?"
Squealer looked at me. I nodded at the weapon.
"It's a welding torch. My vehicles get big."
One question answered. "Pick whatever cards have stuff you need. We're in a warehouse or something so we have room outside."
Squealer gathered a lot of cards, especially ones I wanted to scream and rip from her hands, not caring if she still had hands afterward, but I shut it down hard and held it tightly. That incident with Mouse Protector scared me, so easily calling forth something without noticing.
My power didn't get to decide for me.
AN: Pretty much what people expected, huh?
Last edited: Nov 11, 2018
1162
Glazt
Nov 11, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.2 Entente
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 15, 2018
#2,309
Hello, readers! Welcome back to another exciting episode of Pick A Card, in where it's not really that exciting and more slice of life. Yes, I hear the pleas for more hammy cape fights and action, whacky hijinks or whatnot. That will happen eventually, but you must know by now that this fic moonlights in the serial cereal business.
Much thanks to Doctor_Shenanigans and Massgamer for their beta reading and overall help! Like their comments out of appreciation, or don't and like mine instead! Or both, if you're feeling generous.
As always and ever, thank you for reading and your time~
3.2 Entente
-
"Carry this for me, will ya?" asked Squealer as she offered me the thing that was supposed to be a welding torch. It was longer than my [Mountain Stick] and twice as bulky.
I took it and it had some serious heft to it. "You were going to clobber me with this, in your state?"
Squealer nodded seriously as we made our way out into the abandoned warehouse. The metal racks, wooden pallets, and discarded machinery that was broken or beyond repair were still around which gave the impression abandoned instead of unused, most likely a company that went under somewhere along the decline of the Bay.
"You were acting too good to be true. Dunno about a fancy plan, but finding me just after a good stabbing or whatever and rescuing me, a Tinker, while holding my life in your hands? I wasn't going to roll over and take it lying down!" She eyed me with a smirk. "But you're on the up and up. You ain't nothing like what your videos show, you know?"
"I'm everything and more, I know." I did a proper curtsy, something I learned from Mom a long time ago. "Dang it's dark in here. I would put up my lamps but someone, not sure who, ripped them apart. How can you even see?"
Squealer tapped her goggles. "Nightvision, duh. Don't even need to tinker that shit."
We walked into an open area and Squealer moved carefully as she laid down all the cards she wanted side by side in a long line. "I didn't see other shit worth using, just poof them back or whatever you do right here."
"If only there was an actual poof." I walked down the line and tapped each card to fill it with positive energy. With a snap of a finger all cards transformed back into a myriad of junk, metals, and tinkertech bits. As Squealer went through that I sorted through the leftover cards she didn't pick and spotted two lightbulbs, a chain, and a few batteries.
"So what's the plan? I'm asking because clearly I'm going to be doing the heavy lifting," I said. Two lightbulbs equaled [Brightbulb, thanks power. Combine a few batteries to get a [Perfect Battery, again thanks power. Either they became a superior version of the item with a new name, a superior version of the item with a descriptor, or a bigger version with no name change. If I had another chain card I bet it would just get longer.
"Dunno yet. Not sure if I want four wheels, eight, or screw it and go treads. Wouldn't be big treads, but I could manage if we tore down some of these racks." Squealer picked up some chalk and drew a really straight rectangle on the floor. Of course she nearly face-planted while doing so and cursed. "I fucking swear."
Combinations are key depending on the order, stuff I was figuring out and becoming good at guessing, at least amongst the mundane cards. Rarer stuff started getting deeper even if it followed the same general rules. A lightbulb and battery would give me a lit bulb, naturally. Put that on a chain and I'd get a [Chain Light]. Twist the logic around and go for [Chain] and [Perfect Battery] to get [Charged Chain, then the [Brightbulb] to get [Light Chain].
Funny, but not really that funny. I unsealed the [Light Chain] and felt it thrum in my hands. The iron metal was glowing with a soft yellow light about as bright as a normal lamp from every link of the chain. "There we are, some decent light. I should look into getting nightvision though, it seems to be a proper thief item to own."
"What the fuck?" asked Squealer.
"It's a [Light Chain]. Seriously, I didn't name it," I said. "Also why are you starting with the wheels?"
Squealer walked over to poke the chain, no wariness considering I was already holding it. It wasn't a rare card, just the usual ignoring of certain physics my power liked to do. "Glowing metal? No, how the fuck... the metal is charged. A chemical composition and, shit, a metal alloy? Nah, just some random copper spots in the iron."
"Uh, you can actually tell all that by looking at it?" I asked. I mean, she wasn't wrong considering what went into it, but to me it looked like a glowing chain.
"Sorta, yeah, I can see how to use it in places or how it could work with things and backtrack to what would make it work like that. Shit, fucking murder on my headache though. One sec, grab the bigass pliers," said Squealer. After I did she commanded, "Now break off a link."
Metal pliers versus probably electric metal? It didn't shock me bare-handed so I didn't figure it would shock me with tools. I pried off a link and it went dark, but the whole chain was still lit up.
"Wait, that should... ah, it's a closed circuit. Squeeze the open link shut." If I didn't have my other restoration ring I would've been sore just from doing these two tasks. As I squeezed the chain link shut it began glowing again.
"So, I was asking why you start with the wheels?" Squealer was toying with the [Light Chain]. "That's just some trash cobbled together because I can't see. It's not important, so can we get back to the task of building something important?"
Squealer spat, literally spat, in disgust. "Are you stupid?"
"Four strikes," I muttered quietly.
"This shit is amazing. What'd you use to make this?"
"A couple lightbulbs, batteries, and a chain. You're being distracted like PHO always says Tinkers are when they see shiny things. Please don't prove a stereotype right," I complained.
"Make more," said Squealer seriously. "A chain and a couple lightbulbs are trash, but this chain is basically a huge battery yet compact as hell. Also it comes with its own light so that's rad as fuck, but I'll need several of these at least. That's our power source."
"Okay, okay, power source." I searched through the loads of scrap on the floor and also in my deck and began making more [Light Chains]. I made five more and unsealed them, then made two others to combine into a [Bright Chain] and kept that for myself. "Back to the wheels please?"
Squealer gave me a dirty look. "Where else would you start for a truck? The wheels depict everything from the start, the frame, the engine, the look. Also, get to pulling off each link, Dissy. I need half open and half closed."
Manual labor was unbecoming of the great thief Discard, but I had to think of the dying woman next to me. I never missed catching her stumbles, quiet curses, or the constant rubbing of where she was gutted. Also despite the work I was excited to build something with another cape, however villainous. Yes, my social life was nonexistent and I was enjoying this, sue me.
"Why! Does! It! Have! To! Be! A! Truck!?" I grunted between each chain link on purpose. It was effectively theatrical, after all, even if it sounded like I said one word every several seconds.
"It's a truck, I'm a vehicle tinker, it's what comes naturally," explained Squealer like I was an idiot child.
"Sure, vehicles, but trucks aren't the only vehicles. Literally anything that is a machine and can move is a vehicle. Hell, bigger is better, right? There's planes,boats, and I don't know, rocket ships? Just asking because none of those really start with wheels."
I pried the last link of the last chain off and wiped off sweat. Was this considered a workout? Squealer was staring at me dumbfoundedly. "Uh, what?"
She slowly sat down and held her head. "What the actual fuck."
That worried me. "Woah, hey, are you okay?"
Squealer shook her head. "No, no I am not at all fucking okay. Like... Boom." She made a small explosion sound while fanning her hands away from her head.
What did that even mean?
"Hahaha, I just, gimme a second here. I think I'm having a fucking mid-life crisis," said Squealer.
"You're not even thirty yet, I think. Probably." Oh, it hit me. "Shit, you never thought about it?"
"Fuck off, okay? Let's just do this thing. Working on a time limit or whatever. Fuck, doesn't need to be a goddamn truck, stupid magician cape that saved my life, fuck today for real," muttered Squealer.
I couldn't imagine what Squealer was thinking considering she herself said she was a vehicle Tinker but only ever thought about trucks and their derivatives. My own power was only limited by creativity, materials, and morals. I couldn't say I was utilizing my power to its fullest, but I could blame that on the void and the lack of time. To be able to sit down and work over things for a few months before acting would be a blessing I didn't receive.
"Alright, I think I got it," said Squealer. "Fuck the truck and building an engine, would be a pain in the ass to coach you through anyway."
"Okay then?" That sounded good because I couldn't imagine building an engine from scrap would be quick. "What then?"
Squealer shrugged. "Working on it. I sorta got the idea of it but trying to scale it down to not fucking suck to make. Place the wheels here and here."
I rolled them over to where she was marking the ground with chalk. "Scale down from what?"
"The size of a building," muttered Squealer. "Ever welded stuff before? Didn't think so, guess I'll do it and you hold the shit still."
What could I even say to that? Vehicles the size of buildings that used tires were beyond the level of simple. She did say bigger projects were better, but I was thinking the size of the typical contraption you saw Squealer driving on the news. This was Squealer, a joke Tinker along the levels of Leet even if they sometimes made brilliant stuff, right?
"What're you spacing out for?"
"Sorry, you said something?" I asked.
"Fuck me, this is going to be a long night. Okay, I'm going to just write numbers near the parts and then where I want them in the layout. Move that shit while I prep," she said.
Time flew by, easily a couple of hours as we progressed. It was slow work even as I sealed and unsealed things to carry them instead of lifting the hard way. Junk that wasn't up to par with what Squealer wanted was put to the side for combining into materials we could use, and after we had finished with the inventory we took a small break.
The chalkzone, the layout, or whatever Squealer called it, looked like what one of those plastic model sets would be like. All the parts were laid about orderly and organized with numbers and notations near them in a manner that you could sort of look sideways and see what might be built. Illuminating the whole thing were the small [Bright Link] pieces scattered everywhere throughout the piles.
"What are you even making?" I asked. We had made various small talk during the hours, but Squealer was pretty down to business or otherwise in thought. Every time I brought up the subject she just waved it off. "Something to heal?"
"If I could do that I'd be rich, which now that I think about it I could probably do but I'd need to be filthy rich to even get half the shit I need." Squealer ignored the part I actually wanted to be answered. She gestured to the small pile of junk off to the side. "What can you make with this shit?
It was mostly pipes, screws, bent metal, wires, and other garbage. What was she expecting out of me, some sort of super garbage? "I don't know, higher quality junk?"
Squealer nodded. "Sure, that'd work."
Okay then. I started doing exactly that, combining all the nails down to a few [Perfect Nails] along with [Fortified Pipes, then went and got [Efficient Copper Wires] and [Sharp Metal]. Other variants came out, but those were the ones Squealer took after I finished.
"Yeah, now do the wires and the nails together and then the pipes. What even the heck is sharp metal supposed to be anyway? Sharper than average metal?" asked Squealer.
"Yes, actually. It would cut things easier than ordinary metal." I hadn't expected much from what I viewed as junk, yet it was easy to forget this was what Squealer always worked with. She must've seen things in a different light because I hadn't expected to get [Perfect Copper Nails] and then a fucking rare card of all things. [Copper Pipes of Conductivity]. Considering it was five pipes in the card, each ten feet long, it was a lot of damn piping.
Squealer patted my shoulder and leaned into it to look at the card. "Hey, fancy fucking that, my brain told me that would probably work. Why does it look different though?"
"Wait, wait, you knew this would happen?" I asked.
"Sorta. Shit, girl, every time I take a close look at this ring I get weird ideas that I have no idea how to go about doing. Not like the normal shit, you know? I get the idea but then I gotta work backwards. All the way back ended up with this pile of shit over here and no idea what to do. Didn't get a better idea until I saw the names and then it's just science."
I stepped away from Squealer, who caught herself from falling to the ground, and really looked at her. Competency wasn't something I expected from Merchants. "Your power lets you reverse engineer my combination process?"
"Nah," said Squealer with an annoying grin. "Mostly smarts, but it helps to see the shit it starts as and the shit my power is telling me I need. Poof the pipes out already, need to cut them to size. Actually, I got a pipe saw but this shit is metal now. Make it sharper, will you?"
It wasn't annoying to have Squealer or Regent give me ideas or figure out how to do certain things with my power, that was just multiple perspectives looking in and working toward different solutions. It did, however, annoy me that the dumb pipes ended up as a rare card with so little. Did the quality of the common card affect so much, even if the base item was nothing? Nails, pipes, and wires added up to perfection were one thing, but my mind was racing at what else I could do with that type of formula.
After a quick combination I started hacking away at the copper pipes with a [Sharp Hacksaw, which ended up cutting through rather easily. "So I can get that the pipes probably conduct better than normal, but my rare cards always have some sort of power effect. You said you knew what they did?"
"You don't? Guess you get the easy way in one thing but the hard way in the other. Tinkers don't gotta guess what their shit does, but damn does building it sometimes suck. Here and here," she said as she marked where I should cut.
"I haven't really talked to many capes in casual situations and I'm still pretty new," I said. "My power goes crazy over tinkertech or anything equivalent and it's really, really hard not to want to just... take it. Like, take it and never give it back upon pain of death or something equally dramatic. Sorry if I'm losing the flair, keeping it up for hours is hard."
"That's what he said," said Squealer with a chuckle. "It's a two-way street. Some powers are just made to work with each other I guess. Alright, this looks good. Finally, we're ready."
Damn, it's been hours already and we only just finished preparations. It must've been like around nine at night. Squealer noticed my sigh of relief and pointed at the assembly. I turned in horror and thanked whatever cosmic power that gave me mine that it wasn't a Tinker one.
"Time to build, and I mostly mean you hold the shit while I work. C'mon, Dissy, remember that we don't want me to die from overexertion or whatever the fuck is the problem. I'm a Tinker, not a doctor."
How to describe the next four hours? It was an actual blur of movement, yelling, getting tired, and hungry but no motivation to go hunt for food over finishing the project, and more yelling as Squealer was a control freak over details and me being frustrated at her being controlling. It wasn't actually that bad, almost reminded me of when I was younger when Emma before she turned into a bitch, but then I remembered it was a woman a decade older than me and someone who would've ended up being my enemy on a normal day.
When we were done I convinced Squealer to take a moment with me and stand in appreciation. Four overly large wheels are plastered to the side of a three-dimensional mess of pipes and metal brackets, scrap metal armor with a lot of needless cosmetic additions I was assured served a function, and a lot of mechanical bits that were the steering and control systems I had no clue about even if I helped build it.
Overall it was about as big as a normal car, the backseat portion being this massive shielded trunk of metal, and the front seat was the now-clean remains of my good couch. I couldn't very well keep it after Squealer had torn it apart so we used it for seating cushions. At each key point, joint, and studded on the inside of the walls connected together was a [Bright Link] making the entire vehicle light up the room.
"It's a go-kart," I stated. "This was supposed to be the size of a building?"
Squealer shot me a dirty glare. "Of course not, that's stupid. This was supposed to be the cockpit of a fucking massive forklift. It's basically butchered down to where it's a functional little shit with wheels that does a different thing with your help."
I had no idea how a go-kart could be a cockpit or why a forklift needed a cockpit, but I didn't argue. What did I know about vehicles anyway? "There's no engine, and I thought we were supposed to be building you something to help you. Like, maybe a super ambulance or healing pod or something."
Squealer sat down in the seat, the main front having no door or windshield despite having a secured and armored trunk. "Do you have any idea how long it'd take to do that kind of shit? I'm trying to stay alive, not become fucking Alexandria. Know what cockpits have, Discard? Dissy? Your name sucks to say seriously. Anyway, they have life support."
"Ah, okay then." I walked up to the side of the go-kart and watched as Squealer inserted a truly ridiculous looking key. I don't remember making a key or ignition so it was probably part of the stuff I grabbed from her lab. "I fail to see stuff that looks like life support. Medical stuff and tubes or something like that, right?"
She turned the key.
There was no roar of an engine or accompanying dull rumble that I associated with cars, let alone something made by Squealer. Engines so loud that windows shudder and the road itself trembles like an earthquake when it drives by. Something this eerily quiet was extremely off-putting. The soft yellow light vanished to be replaced by guided lightning. Dark yellow streams of electricity could be seen inside the pipes that were the frame, it turned the go-kart into a machine of lightning.
"Fucking hell, it works!" yelled Squealer. "Gotta keep it in park... keep it still... fuck I want to drive it."
I was shocked and impressed as it was a terrifying sight to see, but it still didn't explain my question. "Yeah, very cool, now explain?"
"Electricity is in the body and shit, right? Keeps you alive and everything flowing. I ain't no doctor but when you're sitting in this seat and the damn thing is turned on you're like, part of the circuit. I don't feel it but I know that I ain't gonna be shutting down as long as it's running. I trust my tech on what it's supposed to do or I'd have crashed and burned a long time ago."
Okay, I was going to ignore that like I ignore my own power's leaps in logic. I was fairly sure that was, in fact, not how a human body worked but powers made everything confusing. "Okay, so the plan is for you to sit there in the go-kart until you're fully recovered."
"Hell yeah." She peered at me. "Why?"
"Then give me my ring back since you trust your tech so much."
"Say, Discard, I know I owe you like, twenty favors or whatever, but listen to this idea." She turned off the go-kart, got up, and slung an arm over my shoulder. "You can combine stuff, right? You said a ring ain't cost much, yeah? So what about you combine that there ring with this baby here?"
On reflex I was going to shut that deal down because I gained absolutely nothing from it, yet that curious part of me was intrigued at what would happen when an item was combined with proper tinkertech. "You want to potentially mess up the machine you're betting your life on?"
Squealer hesitated. "Okay, maybe not like right now, but after? Crisis over, shit ain't getting worse and what-not. Damn, I actually feel bad for asking but I really want to know what would happen. Still, think on it?"
"After." I spoke with no heat or anger, nothing negative in my voice, only mild exasperation and a touch of curiosity, "After what? I saved your ass because of my own conscience, did all this because no one deserves to get murdered in an alley, but I don't condone your actions or gang. My part is over."
"Okay, I get that, but there's gotta be an after. C'mon, I owe you, how else am I going to pay it back if we never meet again, huh? Yeah, it's going to suck detoxing for a week in a shiny metal go-kart—"
"A week? How are you going to eat, or, well, you know?" I asked quickly.
"Well… hmm." Squealer paused as that notion struck her. "After might be a bit sooner than we think, huh? Would morals or conscience or whatever be enough to convince you to bring me pizza or something so I don't starve?"
Was it? Admittedly I didn't mind Squealer's company as much as I thought I would because talking to someone about cape stuff, or hell just stuff in general, wasn't bad. It was friendly even if we weren't friends, sort of like with Regent. I didn't know much about either villain, but was it worth the time to even try?
I sighed, loneliness and the social isolation I'd been put under since I started high school weighing in on my decision more-so than anything else. "Yeah, okay. If you're going to be stuck here for a miserable week then I could bring lunch and my amazing company."
"Oh shit, yeah, being alone is gonna suck ass," said Squealer. She sat back down in the go-kart and slumped against the cushions. "A lot happened today and most of it shit, but damn if my luck ain't good if I ran across you."
Squealer removed her goggles and scratched her head wildly. I had already seen her bare face but I was still taken aback by the gesture. "Make it official or whatever. Sup, I'm Sherrel, and I'm gonna build you something fucking awesome or whatever you want to repay this shit. You could've let me die or turned me in or something, but yeah."
I pulled off my mask and rolled my eyes despite my intense trepidation. Bad enough that Regent had caught me unaware, but I could blame that on him and circumstance. This right here was a gesture of trust and it terrified me of it being taken advantage of, yet I had to answer her own.
"I'm Taylor, and we can talk power business later. Fuck," I said as I sealed my costume and became Taylor once more. "I'm starving. Pizza or Mexican sound good?"
"Sure, Tay," she said. "Either works. Hold a sec while I test this?"
Fifth strike for shortening my two syllable real name. "I thought you trusted your tech?"
Her wary smile told me enough. "First time's always the worst."
The go-kart was started up and dimmed to its odd lightning appearance. Sherrel removed the ring on her finger and waited. Slowly she grit her teeth and exhaled deeply. "Okay, I can feel that. Probably would've screamed if these bloody clothes didn't dull the pain by a fuck-ton. I didn't drop dead, and if I did the damn life support should just restart my body or heart or whatever."
I nodded. "Be back in a few."
I left the warehouse and checked from the outside on how it looked since there was a glowing vehicle just on the inside. A little light, barely noticeable unless you looked for it, could be seen from the windows on the top. I would have to shield that to prevent curious onlookers during the night, but that was for later.
I was starving for something greasy.
It was still a little surreal when I thought over everything that had happened, to the point where I sometimes doubted my own actions. The fact that I had promised to help out Sherrel over the course of her recovery was probably the biggest moment of disbelief, yet I couldn't abandon what I had started in good conscience.
At the very least the day had quieted the void with all the pseudo-thievery and tinkering. I hadn't thought about it much before but combining cards and making new things satisfied me as well, just not on the level of stealing.
I fumbled for my keys in the pitch black of the night, annoyed that I actually had more than the two keys belonging to my house. Somewhere along the line my keyring had picked up a dozen keys of various sizes, and I didn't know what any of them unlocked. The jingle of pilfered keys just made me a little happier is all.
Quietly, I entered the backdoor and turned on the light.
"Taylor," said Dad.
I jumped in fright as I hadn't seen him sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter, near the back door. Him speaking may have startled me, but when I faced him was when it became scary. Dad looked awful, and it wasn't from something like a physical injury. He had an open beer cradled between his hands as he glanced between it and me, then took a swig.
"Ah, hey Dad," I said, unsure of what else to even say. "Right, the hospital. I'm glad you're okay and, well, Kurt's okay too?"
"Taylor." I met his eyes and immediately found the fridge more interesting. "Where were you?"
I opened the fridge and grabbed a tea bottle, something to drink as well as to just have in my hands. "I saw it on the news, the attack. I was on my way and something came up. Sorry."
"You called me on my work phone," he said. Dad took another swig, something I didn't see but heard because I didn't want to look at him. "From a number I don't know. I thought, maybe, it was Emma's because you said a friend, so I called Alan. I tried to call back but didn't get an answer."
A pit formed in my stomach as I chanced a glance at Dad. His expression was the following sucker punch to the gut. "He said he hasn't seen you in months and that Emma doesn't talk about you anymore. I... I know we don't talk much anymore, but I thought we were doing better."
"Dad," I said as I walked over to the opposite side of the counter. "We are doing better, right?"
He sighed. "No, no we aren't. You said a friend, but I don't have any clue who that could be. What came up that was so important? The heroes showed up and resolved the attack, so yes Kurt and I were safe, but I was worried about you."
I couldn't exactly tell him that I was a newly infamous criminal and that I found one of the gang's capes that had attacked the hospital bleeding out in an alley, then went on to save that cape's life in a day-long span of tinkering. I could've lied or said it in a way that would be technically true, yet it weighed on me each time I did so.
In the end I didn't say anything.
"I'm not mad, Taylor. It must've been something important," said Dad.
"It was," I agreed. "Trust me, it really was."
Dad closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Trust you? I want to, but you make it hard, Taylor. Not just today, but the last couple weeks."
His grip on the beer bottle tightened and each word grew strained and a little more heated. "Sneaking out at night one time I could understand, maybe. I was a teenager too, once. Every night after that though? Every time I lay in bed awake, hearing the floor creak or one of the doors opening, only to check the clock and it tell me it was almost time to wake up for work?"
"Dad, that..." My voice failed me.
"Even now," said Dad with a self-deprecating chuckle. "You don't trust me enough to even say something. Taylor, I'm your father! I will always be here for you and it... it hurts that you feel like you can't tell me something. A boyfriend, or is it a gang? God, I hope it isn't drugs."
That guilt that was knotting inside me was burning up with anger. "Trust you, Dad? Jeez, yes, let me go ahead and do that when you've all but shut down. Great, sure, I'll share all my problems with the man who can barely handle his own life, let alone mine."
"That's not fair. I loved your mother and her passing—"
I slammed my hand on the counter. "I loved her too! You... you don't get to play that card, Dad."
He stood up, all the way up to where he towered over me. "I didn't say that! Of course you loved her, but it was hard... hard for the both of us. It's not an excuse but I'm trying now. You're the one not trying!"
I grit my teeth and turned to go to my room. "I can't do this now, not today."
Dad walked to cut me off, and when I tried to go around he did so again. "We aren't through talking, Taylor. This sneaking in and out is over. If you aren't going to trust me enough to tell me what it is, you don't get to do it."
I scoffed. "You're what, grounding me?"
"Yes, you're grounded," said Dad. "Since you start school tomorrow I'll be driving you and picking you up as well."
I snorted in stubborn disagreement. "No you aren't."
"Taylor—"
"Grounding and driving me? Yeah, no," I said. "Pretty words, Dad, but what are you going to do to make me? Physically stop me; restrain me? I'm through with this and I'm going to bed. Get some sleep and go to work, because if you try to wake me up for school I'll..."
Dad radiated his anger, from his legs to his shoulders, but instead of exploding out in anger he deflated into the husk of a man I was depressingly familiar with. I stepped around him and headed to my room.
"Taylor," pleaded Dad. I paused, but I didn't glance back. "I love you."
"Yeah, I know."
AN: Taytay, why you show a bit of trust in Sherrel but not in Dad? Damn teenagers. Finally, we can get back to focusing on important stuff, like school and maybe more tinkering. As in the intro, it's a bit serious-theme for the life of Taylor, but that has how it's always been in PaC. Thanks for reading / sticking with it even if its not ham and fun banter all the time.
Last edited: Nov 15, 2018
1097
Glazt
Nov 15, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.3 Entente
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Nov 20, 2018
#2,489
So around a week later another chapter goes up. Is it getting slower? Yes, yes it is. Sshhh, everyone knows by now I can't keep an update schedule to save my fic. Life is going good with the holiday week (if you're in the US at least). Here's an update to satiate the masses, even if it's not quite exactly what everyone wants.
Thanks a ton to my beta-readers: Doctor_Shenanigans and Massgamer, who bring quality up (maybe, is this fic even quality?).
Also if you haven't read, there's an omake over in Hotswap! featuring Discard, a story written by themanwhowas. Banter and fun times for all, non-canon of course.
And at last, Thank You All For Reading, and much thanks to your time you spent making it this far in this story.
p.s. Alert: While we're all cool with cape on cape violence (sort of), there is bullying in this chapter. Readers beware.
3.3 Entente
-
I laid there in bed staring at my ceiling, the fan creating a dull thrum to counter the house's silence. I want to say that I felt enraged at the idea of Dad shutting down my villainous activities, even in ignorance, or that I was ashamed of the way I spoke to him. Even sad that we both, for it wasn't solely his fault no matter where I wanted to place the blame, had let our relationship fade to the point we even had that argument.
Yet I felt nothing but fatigue and confusion over what I should've been feeling.
With a power like mine, it would have been easy to set up a discreet way to enter and leave my room. To avoid even the smallest of chances that he would discover me, but after the first week I think I wanted to be caught. To have him care, to confront me even, and act like a father. In the end, it was my experiences as a villain and the gnawing inside my soul that won over any willingness I had left to obey his command.
The same way Dad let his own experiences hold him down.
The alarm clock told me it was six-thirty in the morning; I had been ruminating over it for hours instead of sleeping. It was convenient then that my [Ring of Restoration] negated even sleepiness, although I suspected it would still wear on me if I avoided sleeping for too long.
There was no point in putting it off any longer. I took a shower and prepared to go to school for the first time in what felt like forever, but in reality was only weeks ago. It wasn't something I was looking forward to, mainly because I didn't want to deal with all my missed assignments. Dealing with my bullies was so par for the course that I didn't even factor it in.
I was dressed in my usual school attire, torn blue jeans and grey hoodie with a long-sleeve black shirt underneath, when I had to stop. Nothing was unusual to me but that was the problem in itself. My cards were in most of my pockets, all sorted and positioned just like I wanted them.
It was telling that even my backpack was sealed and in my hoodie pocket.
What was I supposed to do with all my things? The thought of leaving them at home, let alone if Dad by some chance found them, made me incredibly nervous. To bring them to school with me was an even bigger risk. Not just because I feared being outed but also the feeling of safety they gave me.
I put every card I owned with my bullying journals except for two, my costume and healing ring. It wasn't an iconic ring by any means, but it also wasn't something average enough to avoid detection. It was hard to walk away from the house, my feet dragging every step until I finally assured myself that there was literally nowhere safer for my own things to be than my home. Even if it didn't feel like home nowadays.
Instead of taking the bus I jogged to school, the physical exertion clearing my head. It was weird how the burning in my muscles and each lungful of cold air could be cathartic. Nothing but me and the passing of the city as I maintained a pleasant pace.
It almost made me forget where I was going up until I saw the cesspool that was Winslow High. Just being back in its presence made me hunch over, tuck my hands in my pockets, and pay attention to where people were looking so I could be as unnoticeable as possible.
Somehow I expected to have the group of my usual tormentors to be waiting with bated breaths at the entrance, mocking laughter, and petty insults upon their lips. Instead, it was just students trying to get to class, most not caring if they made it before the bell at all.
As I entered I shifted my backpack off my shoulders so I could carry it. It only took Madison sneaking up and dumping soda into my backpack twice before I started to hold it in front of me.
Mr. Donovan waited outside the classroom as the students filed in. He was a short, pudgy man with a rather over-stylish toupe that he couldn't pull off, yet I didn't have the heart to condemn him for wanting to wear it. Not like I had before I got powers.
"Miss Hebert, welcome back," he said dispassionately. "Let me be the first of your teachers to tell you that we were informed of the reasons for your leave of absence. You will not have any demerits or missing work to make up for. It was mainly due to avoiding a workload over a single student."
I nodded in appreciation for his honesty. Only he would put it in such awful terms, of course, unlike Mr. Gladly or Quinlan.
He eyed me critically. "However, this means you are expected to keep up with the current coursework despite that. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Donovan. It's for all my subjects?" I asked. He nodded in response and gestured with a thumb to the door. I hurried inside and took my seat.
English was a fairly boring class as it was something I normally excelled in, at least when it came down to the facts of literature. Essays and writing crushed me at that side leaving my grade usually around barely-passable. The fact that it was an advanced placement class meant that I didn't have any of the Trio in it.
Except there was Julia in the back corner constantly sneaking glances and toying with her phone under her desk. It wasn't hard to imagine what she was doing as the dread crept up on me.
The hour for class passed quickly and soon we were all filing back out into the hallway. When I glanced behind me as I walked toward Physics I finally caught sight of her. Even after all the bullying, constant vocal abuse, and terrible treatment, seeing Emma's face still made me remember the supportive sister-in-name I once had.
I was almost to the classroom when Sophia blocked my path up ahead. She was leaning against the wall by the door even though her class was Biology across the damn school, yet I knew if I walked past her she would start something. Emma was approaching from behind strangely lacking the group of hangers-on she always had.
The choice was to either ignore them and go to class, even if it meant being shoved or tripped up by Sophia, or take whatever they had been holding onto early so I could deal with the rest of the day in peace.
Weeks ago I would've put it off. Taken the elbow to the ribs or whatever Sophia was dishing out and avoided it as long as I could. Except now, after having faced down multitudes of heroes and having done some genuine good for people, even if they were villains, I didn't want to let a couple high school girls rule me with fear.
After all, what could they do to me that was worse than what I had already endured?
The bell rang, the signal that class had started, and I was heading toward the stairwell with the two girls following me. I pushed the door open and steeled myself. Even without my costume I slipped into a Discard mindset, just enough to take the edge off of the all too real fear I had.
I noted the stairs leading down to the first floor were to my left, the stairs to the roof to my right, and put my back to the wall facing the door. A breath in and then out helped steel my nerves and I set my backpack down. My hand was cramping from how hard I had been clutching it.
"Oh, Taylor," started Emma as she walked through the door first. Sophia trailing behind her with a level stare and frown. Nobody else was with them and that single fact set me on edge. "I was so worried, you know?"
It never hurt any less when she talked to me like that and she knew it too. A tone so genuine, filled with worry and relief, and all the more crushing due to the deceit it was made with. I had to hold myself back from answering because I didn't trust my voice not to quiver.
Emma smirked viciously as she noticed all of that, for who else would be able to read me better? "Taylor, it's true! At first I thought you were sick. Oh, I told Madison the cold saltwater prank was a step too far, but you know her."
I did and was still fairly sure it wasn't Madison. The girl wasn't strong or tall enough to lift a bucket over a bathroom stall door. Emma placed both hands on her heart and continued, "But then a week passed and we heard you were placed on traumatic leave! Naturally we assumed you finally gave up and… well, you know what they say about sad, quiet loners."
Sophia stepped off to the right of Emma and stayed near the first-floor stairs. She had her arms crossed and lacked that gleeful smile or scowl she always sported. Was she here only to support Emma, or was it something else? I couldn't think of a time I ever saw Sophia calm.
"Not that I believed them!" Emma leaned a little forward and held up a hand like she was saying something secretive. "But that's what's been floating around school."
It hurt more than I wanted to admit to have rumors like that in the mind of anyone in school. To think of me as either a psycho waiting to go Carrie or a sad statistic to be forgotten. Maybe it was ironic that so much of my life was becoming about my cape image that it eventually bled over to my civilian identity.
"Why?" I asked and teared up with how much that one word could summarize. "You couldn't even wait until lunch?"
Emma stepped towards me, slowly and methodically as each step punctuated her words. "Why? Because you showed up to school. Because you had the gall to run away. Because you still don't recognize your place. Because I missed you, Taylor."
I regretted choosing the stairwell now if only because my back was to a wall. I wanted to display confidence, to stand up to them, but they weren't the bullies I dealt with day in and day out.
"Ems, you're being creepy again," stated Sophia neutrally.
"Oh hush, we're only talking, right?" said Emma. "Just us three."
I edged toward the stairs to the roof while Sophia took the same time to block the opposite way and Emma stood between the door to the hall. "Us three? I just want to go to school, get my education, and be done with this."
"See, that's the problem, isn't it?" Emma sneered. "You want when you should be accepting your place. Who told you that you could leave for weeks, huh? Then you come back and have the audacity to act like everything's normal. Like we're something to be brushed off."
I backpedaled up the stairs, my backpack still on the floor near Sophia, as they advanced on me. I pulled on my inner Discard and said, "Yes, it's my fault for being attacked and then not feeling up to coming back to school just to be attacked some more. I'm sorry I couldn't be your sandbag, is that what you want to hear? "
"Exactly! You were too weak to overcome your trial," snarled Emma far more viciously than I expected. "Weak and pathetic, then come crawling back trying to appear like you actually accomplished something."
Trial? I had no idea what she was talking about. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Sophia." Emma snapped her fingers.
Sophia stepped up alongside Emma and swatted her on the back of the head. "Don't act like I'm a dumb attack dog. Still," she said while cracking her knuckles. "Might as well get this over with."
Oh fuck. I immediately turned and dashed up the stairs while Sophia and Emma took to the stairs slowly. I rounded the corner and went for the door. Damn thing had chains and a padlock securing it so no student could get out. Luckily it was out of sight of the two so I sealed it and threw open the doors, then immediately unsealed the chains and tossed them to the side.
No way was I going to be stuck in a corner against them.
The two girls walked out and I caught Sophia's glance at the chains. She rolled her eyes at them and walked my way. "Accept it, Hebert, and maybe I'll go easy."
"If you go easy I won't do that thing you want," said Emma playfully. "Or maybe, I'll do that other thing?"
Sophia smirked. "Nevermind that bit, then."
"Really, Sophia?" I kept my distance. "Emma? After all that shit, all the emails and pranks, and that fucking mess last January, you're going to just beat me up?"
Emma sighed. "Clearly it wasn't working since you failed each test after the last. Even though you were so pitiful I held hope, but maybe it was the approach that was wrong."
"I told you so," said Sophia. "Spilt soda and ruined homework doesn't mean shit in the real world."
"As usual, you're right," sighed Emma with a shrug. "That's how it is, Taylor."
That didn't make any sense at all! In all my fights with capes I never really threw a punch. Why would I when I had tools and obstacles at my fingertips? I balled up my hands and held them up to my chest.
Sophia broke out in laughter. "Damn, you don't even know how to make a fist. Thumb out, idiot. Like this." She showed me very clearly as she opened a hand and closed it tightly. Yeah, I was doing it wrong and watched my own hands for a moment.
A fist slammed into my ribs. I didn't see or hear her move in that brief moment I was distracted. It wasn't a cape's strength like Aegis or Dauntless, but it was enough that if I didn't experience all my fights or didn't work out to improve my body it would've put me on the ground permanently.
I kept on my feet and coughed violently.
"Huh, thought that would've put you down. Maybe this won't be boring after all," wondered Sophia. She walked toward me, not running or being aggressive, simply walking.
Without my costume and tools, just as Taylor with her own two hands, it felt like she was stalking toward me like a cat to a mouse. I wished I had my ring on more than ever as I tried recovered my breath. "The school won't let you off easy. You'll be suspended, or, uh, expelled."
Sophia shrugged. "Maybe."
"Only if they find out," said Emma.
Right, they had gotten away with vicious bullying for over a year and a half. Why would a fight be any different? I could do this, stand up to my bullies in a way I never could before. Words and subtle attacks I couldn't deal with or they would pull the 'me versus them' card.
But I had fought super powered heroes. I could take one teenage girl.
Sophia shook her hand and stalked forward, her eyes never leaving me during the sedate walk. Emma off to the side watched with glee while talking. "You see, it's already working better than before. Oh sure, in the beginning you tried..."
Her exasperated voice drew my attention for just a moment. Barely a blink, yet it was enough for me to lose track of Sophia entirely. It was only my understanding of Sophia, of how nasty she could be, that let me lower my arm just in time to block a punch to the exact spot she nailed me before. I felt her knuckles dig into my muscle and tried to counter.
She was already out of reach by the time I moved my fist.
"The token resistance was adorable. Telling the teacher, trying to make new friends? A few words here and there from your best friend was all I needed to shut that down. How sad is that?" Emma's voice was distracting me as I recalled the images of a teacher blowing me off or other girls calling me a liar. That was before it became an open secret.
Sophia repeated the process for the third time. No guard or stance, simply walking toward me. How could I manage to avoid a speedster's blow and not hers? All the bitter resentment and vindictive fury I had bottled up, pushed down in order to attain the evidence I put in with my journals, began to flood my mind.
"People just didn't know any better. Still, I waited for you, Taylor. Sophia said you were weak and weren't worth the time, but I believed in you. How could my best friend be so worthless?"
I dashed forward and threw a punch at Sophia. It was awful and I could tell just from the movements of my body. Sophia seemed to agree as she didn't bother to dodge and instead batted away my arm and nailed me in the ribs again. The same exact spot hurt three times as bad and this time I couldn't stop myself from doubling over.
Emma sighed. "Yet time and again you failed and I finally realized the truth of it all. So, I took it upon myself to show the world exactly how much of a failure you really are. No, don't thank me, it was my pleasure."
Her prattling on made no sense. Hell, half of it was contradictory! I had always wondered about why Emma had turned on me, about what had caused her to become a massive bitch. It had to be profound, right? Something to cause such a drastic change?
It pissed me off that I had even cared to know.
I shakily got to my feet to see Sophia again at several feet away from me. "C'mon, Hebert. How many times do I have to do the exact same thing before you learn?"
"Fuck off," I spat. "Just wanted to have a normal day. Ruin my backpack again or something."
"Oh, what a nice idea! That backpack did look new," said Emma. "You know, my father got the most interesting call yesterday. Why, he asked me about you! The teachers or any friends you don't have are one thing, but you didn't even tell your dad? I have so many prepared lines that I haven't gotten to use for ages!"
Somehow she made the fight with Dad all the worse in my mind. That she could use even that against me blinded me with anger. I found myself ignoring Sophia and sprinting directly for Emma.
The feeling of my fist as it slammed into her breast was satisfying for a brief second before Sophia's own nailed me for the third time in the same exact rib. I was sent sprawling as Emma flailed and yelled at me, nothing I could understand as the blood roared in my ears and the pain intense enough for me to lose focus.
A foot kicked me in my leg, again and again, far too weak to be Sophia.
"She hit me in the boob!" yelled Emma.
"Should've dodged, Ems. You're better than that," said Sophia mildly.
"You were too slow," complained Emma. "Damn, now I have to check if there's a bruise. Remember this, Taylor, and learn your role in life. Even if you struggle it's worthless in the end, just like you."
I watched through tearful eyes as Emma stomped her way to the door. "Come on, Sophia!"
"Yeah yeah, give me a sec here," said Sophia. Emma disappeared out of sight. Sophia walked into view and crouched in order to look me in the eye. "Finally, we can stop with that kindergarten bullshit."
She rubbed her hand and flexed it. "I expected better, Hebert. Next time I'll take it up a notch, and each time after that. If you don't show up to school? I'll make it even worse, maybe a trip to your home to say hello?"
Sophia stood up and smiled. "See you around."
I waited minutes after they left in order to fish out my card from my shoe and unsealed my [Silver Ring of Restoration]. With it on I stayed on the roof for a while and stared at the sky, reminiscent of how this was exactly what I had been doing earlier in my room.
Oh, I still felt all that rage and resentment, especially at having been beaten down in a few punches with the promise for more no matter whether I showed up to school or not. It was Emma's prattling and Sophia's new attitude toward it all that spooked me.
I didn't know what to make of it and needed a second opinion. Well, if I was being honest with myself I just wanted to vent at someone, anyone at all. I heard the next bell ring from inside the school and decided that today was thoroughly ruined. I didn't want to continue being here even if I got punished for it later.
My backpack was still where I left it in the stairwell, except it was now soaked with grape soda. The can was sitting next to it on the floor, an open sign that the petty shit wasn't going to stop either. I fished out my cellphone and turned it on. The only reason it wasn't sealed and back home was in case of emergency.
All the contact numbers on here should probably have been deleted as they reminded me that I had stolen it from Grue. I scrolled down and pressed call.
———————————
"And they aren't dead in a ditch why?"
It was at times like these that I realized Alec could be extremely off-putting. He was usually a carefree guy, mainly focused on whatever the newest thing was in his life, yet sometimes comments like that one popped up and reminded me that he was a villain. I hadn't asked about his background and we kept our… maybe-friendship professional. At least when it was about only things we were willing to talk about.
"Because that would be murder?" I asked rhetorically. We were at Jo's Coffee Shack enjoying a solitary corner booth during dead hours so about the only person who could've overheard us was the barista, and they were busy flirting with a woman across the shop.
"So?" Alec was drawing in a sketchbook instead of playing his handheld game like he was the last time we met up. It was strange because the last time, in this same coffee shop as it was one of his favorite spots, we didn't exchange names. It was just a meeting to discuss ideas about me crashing the public apology.
This time I offered to put a name to the face using the courage I got from revealing myself to Sherrel. Alec took it in stride and he listened to me complain about my bullies while he worked on some art. Said I was inspiring him or something with my villainy.
"That's illegal. Also morally reprehensible," I said. "Using my power on them would just make me worse than they ever could be."
Alec scoffed at that. "You are better than them with your power, and without it they knocked you down like you were a chump and then kicked you for good measure. Should've just tapped them with a finger and poof, carded them. No body, no evidence, easy peasy."
I was distinctively uncomfortable with that notion, even discounting the murder insinuation. Alec looked up from his sketchbook, his tone clear that he had been half-serious and half-joking, which was the default for him I was finding out. "Wait, could you?"
"I… don't really know. They say powers have a limit, right? Organic versus inorganic, inanimate versus living, and all that." I stared at my hand. "It's horrifying, the thought of even trying. What if I succeeded, what if I couldn't, or what if it was… well, you get the idea. I'd rather be ignorant."
"Aww c'mon, you haven't even tried! Just start small, like a mouse or stray cat. Some powers work only on certain things, like Rach's thing with dogs or my own thing," he said. "I mean, I'd volunteer but I'm busy at the moment."
I forced a laugh. "Hah, funny. God, don't even joke about that. If, and it's an if because I do not want to ever find out, could you imagine? That's how you get slammed with a Birdcage sentence. Definitely not something the other me would do."
"Would be hilarious though. So, over a year and a good smackdown finally cracked you enough to stop waiting to fight back, huh? If you aren't going with my suggestion—"
"Murder isn't a suggestion," I shot back.
"—then what are you going to do? Gotta agree with your bully on this one, fist fighting and cape fighting is not the same. I'm in the same boat as you, you know. Actually, I wasn't going to ask, but now that it's part of the conversation you think you could hook me up?"
I peered at what Alec was sketching and immediately fought down a blush at seeing a very well rendered sketch of myself. He caught it though and smirked. "I'm not your home decorator, Alec. I mean, sure you paid me for the pillows, the bed, and the game controller thing."
"It's telepathic, I swear. Games respond just a touch quicker than before I can press the button. Totally worth a thousand dollars."
"And I'm not sure why you're throwing all this money my way when it has to be more expensive than doing it normally," I continued.
"No, not really. You're actually underselling it a lot, but I thought of it as a friend discount. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about. Actually, I'd rather not talk about it at all, but a certain not-as-smart-as-she-thinks girl has been wanting to try and open a business opportunity with you. I promised I'd at least mention it."
I eyed him. "What'd you get out of the promise?"
"One free insult at her expense and first dibs on an order. Like, our team and boss were wanting to buy your services, and god that sounds sketchy. If you agree I'd totally ask for a super-taser or something. Maybe armor, that's good too."
"An insult?" I asked.
"Oh, that's worth a million dollars. I just need to time it perfectly."
Weird team dynamics aside, it wasn't a bad deal really. Money for things was obvious and I did already sell them that ring, even if it was more for the dogs and my own circumstances at the time. Did I want to part with any rare items that may be asked for? No, very much not so, at least for money.
"I'm… not saying that I'm not willing, okay? Just money itself isn't really a big deal for me, and god does that sounds sketchy." I tapped the coffee cup and felt the now-cold porcelain. "I need things, materials, and stuff if I was going to do it. Not saying I will, and even then it would have to be a trade. Probably unfairly so in my favor so I don't go knife-crazy."
"Oh, so knife-crazy is okay but only if no one dies?" snarked Alec.
"I really don't like letting go of things unless I benefit a lot by doing so," I said seriously.
"Isn't that anyone though? Stuff that's yours is important and all that. S'why thievery is illegal and junk."
Okay, that's a good point, just my situation is supernatural, paranatural, or whatever and kicked up into a higher gear than any normal person's greed. "Just tell your team and boss that I'd have to take it case by case. I also don't exactly want anything I make to fall into the wrong hands."
"Like all your discarded items? Hah, discarded, cause you lose stuff all the time in fights." Alec snickered and I swatted at him from across the table.
"That was bad and you should feel bad," I said.
"Ah, there we go." He put down the pencil and showed me the sketch. It was really well done, something that I actually did blush at this time when looking at it. "Now I just have to add the black eye and busted lip and it'd be perfect."
"Ugh, don't remind me." I didn't actually get any injuries to my face and my ring took care of the others, but it brought it back around to the first topic. For all that we've talked it was rarely about himself. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe try and take self-defense classes?"
"Pfft, why? Go grab some books or something," said Alec while he gave me an incredulous stare.
I didn't follow.
"C'mon, Taytay! You're real creative in a pinch, but dang I need to introduce you to certain games. Like, think of it. You get weird shit all the time from random stuff, right? What about books? Items in games always have things like 'hats of knowledge' or 'necklaces of wisdom'. You got cash, so go hit up a used bookstore already."
I facepalmed. "Damn, why the heck didn't I think of that?"
He leaned across the table and patted me on the head, which I swatted away as he smirked. "It's okay, we were all newbs once. Learn young padawan, you will."
I drank my cold coffee and liked how it still tasted good despite losing its heat. "This is a nice place. Well, not really, but the coffee is good."
"Yeah, it's why I always order takeout." Alec flipped to a new page and started another sketch, this time glancing toward the flirty barista and woman. "Now, and hear me out on this, have you ever considered maybe combining game consoles? I'll front the fee for the first couple attempts if I get to keep whatever it makes."
I sighed. Ever since the pillow thing, Alec had been trying to, and successfully, use my power to improve his quality of life. It was fun to use my power either way, and he was moving on up to sorta-friendship levels so I rarely denied him it. It's not like he was asking for a super gun or mega sword, after all.
"That's a lot of money," I said with a smile. Alec was a breath of fresh air after everything. Of course, the fact that the void was starving and urging me forward also played into it. My next heist would have to be soon and I needed to prepare for it. "Maybe I'll waive the initial fee on these."
He fist pumped.
"Unless it turns into a rare card," I added.
"Sure, sure, and if it's not I get to keep it? Okay, what's the nearest game store?" he asked while pulling out his phone in order to look it up.
Ditching school to go shopping with an admittedly cute boy for fun purposes? Fuck it, after the last twenty-four hours I had I was going to do anything that made me feel better and kept my mind off of those topics. "Find me a bookstore too, would you?"
———————————————————
AN: So, at last we reach the point where preparation for the next heist is going to be taking place, this time with Guest Star Alec! It took longer than I thought because words, and I wanted to tell these parts of the story even if I can't do them justice compared to the image inside my head. Writer problems, blah blargh.
Last edited: Nov 27, 2018
1149
Glazt
Nov 20, 2018
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.4 Entente
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Mar 30, 2019
#2,752
RISE FROM YOUR GRAVE!
So a bit of text be-HEY DON'T SKIP TO THE CHAPTER! *ahem, as I was saying, I burned out. Happens, excuses blahsuchandsuch. Took a break during December and then starting writing a casual original litrpg story about a kobold being a dungeon master called Hightailing It (Updating weekly so far). PaC is back and I'm taking it slow and just going at my own pace. But fuck I'm awful with scheduling so have an update and I'll be going back to threadmark all those wonderful omake's I didn't get to.
Recap for those who read too much fic:
Spoiler: FLASHBACK~
AS USUAL THANK YOU TO MASSGAMER AND DOCTOR_SHENANIGANS FOR BEING BEAUTIFUL BETAS.
And thank you, Readers, for your time.
--
3.4 Entente
-
"Man, these titles sound fantastic. 'Putting The U In Judo'," said Alec as he shoved yet another worn out book in my shopping basket. "And here's '101 Expert Kung-Fu Kicks' along with 'Karate For Kids: Parental Edition'."
We were browsing a second-hand book store that was near the Boardwalk. I had elected to jog the whole way there for exercise, it helped clear my head and tone my body. Alec, on the other hand, took his bright yellow moped and drove behind me yelling weirdly positive catchphrases or singing a butchered version of Eye Of The Tiger. There were also a couple comments about editing in post to cover the montage which I shrugged off and attributed to his weirdness.
"Okay, so that's nine books on martial arts so far," I said. It was a big bookstore, but it had such horrendous organization that finding anything was proving to be a task. It was like they just tossed the books onto a shelf somewhere and slapped a price sticker on the spine. "Are we looking for anything else?"
Alec rolled his eyes. "Why are you asking me?"
"Well, you're the one who suggested books."
"C'mon. you'll never break out of that rut if you don't think a little," he said after a heavy fake sigh. "It's books, and books are your thing, right? I swear I see you with one all the time."
He had a point, I often did have a magic or literature book in hand when I wasn't in costume. Keeping up with the basics and expanding my foundation for tricks and banter were important. "Okay, books huh? Grab any manuals or guide books then. That goes into knowledge items, right?"
He saluted and leisurely roamed off to another aisle. I browsed around my own aisle in a slow walk, the books here were in pretty poor condition due to either their prior owners or the store's handling. There were a lot of fiction or history books that I glossed over as I looked, although I did end up grabbing this whole set of a series about a wizard detective in Chicago. Maybe it was supposed to be based on Myrddin?
Alec popped back with a small book in each hand and dropped them in my basket. "Two more for you."
"Alec," I said while resisting the impulse to throw them back in his face. "These are video game guides."
"Duh, dork. You need a wide range of books to understand all nuance of the whatever you're doing, right?" He tapped the guide that had a massive dragon on the cover. "Who knows what this'll end up as."
"Uh huh. And it if so happens to become a—I don't know—hat of gaming skill or something?" I eyed him dubiously.
"Then you'd know what they did and might give it to that one handsome and intelligent guy you know who could use it," said Alec as he grinned. "There's more two rows over, give me a sec and I'll grab them."
He dashed off when I didn't refuse buying them. Sure, why not, he had a point at least about grabbing a wider spread of books. I grabbed several builder magazines and do-it-yourself books just because I wasn't going to rely purely on my power for that display room. Or was relying on my power to create something so I didn't rely on it in the end relying on it?
Either way, that trophy room wasn't going make itself.
I grabbed the last book about fighting to make it an even ten. A chinese graphic novel was technically a book, right?
Alec popped back with more gaming things and also dropped two comic books on top while having the gall to look pleased with himself. "Those are for reading as well as combining. Two uses for one purchase."
We made our way to the checkout counter where I paid for everything. It still was unnerving at how much money I had, which was easily enough to buy maybe everything in this store, and I was probably losing any sense of money I had. God knows Alec already had, or he never gained it in the first place.
The cashier offered to put everything in a box instead of multiple bags and I took her up on the offer. I tied it down to the back of Alec's moped and jogged alongside him as we headed for his game store.
Thinking about what the books might be also brought me back to why I was getting them in the first place. "Hey, Alec."
"What's up?"
"Just thinking about how Sophia beat me up." He suppressed a laugh at that. "No, really, I've taken multiple heroes before at a time and won or escaped every time. Movers, Brutes, Shakers, even a teleporter. So… it's weird, right?"
"Sure, Taytay, if you say so," he said. I was going to retort when he continued after a moment. "But yeah, a bit weird. You said your costume does something, yeah? Makes it easier to think or whatever. What if it also makes you not a chump? Would explain how you didn't get your ass toasted in the bank."
We turned, pulled to a stop, and he hopped off to run inside to grab those game consoles. I had thought he was kidding about that but apparently he never kids about games. When he came back out with six boxes he handed two to me and put the other four on his moped.
"Really? Fine, whatever." I took the boxes and we started heading back to his lair, or rather the Undersiders' lair. My own little hideout was still with Squealer in that abandoned warehouse, and made a mental note to bring her some food after we were done.
"Back on topic, I think you may be right," I said to Alec. "I've seen my rare cards do some crazy stuff, but always found that my costume was underwhelming for one, before I combined it with Dauntless' boots."
"Rare costume? Say… could you do mine?" he asked as we rounded the street and came up onto the Redmond Welding building. "Yeah yeah, I'm asking that more and more often, but your power is hella wicked."
I picked up my box of books and carried them inside while Alec hid his vehicle and followed after a minute. He led me up to the loft where I saw Grue eating a meal at the table while toying with his phone. Without a mask.
Oh. Oh fuck.
"What the hell, Alec?!" he yelled and was about to get up before slamming back into his seat. "Damnit."
"What did I do?" asked Alec.
"Y-Yeah, sorry, Grue," I mumbled. "He didn't say anyone was here and I mean, I was just going along and forgot to ask and—"
"It's fine. Well, it really isn't, but okay. This is okay." He took a bite of his weird fruit salad. "You helped me out of a bad spot. Thanks for that, and it's nice to meet you. I'm Brian."
Alec set all the bags over by the couch and plopped down without a care. "Didn't think you'd be here since Tats and Bitch are out."
"Ah, I'm Taylor," I mumbled and went over to place the rest of everything together. "So, is that ring doing well? For the dogs, I mean."
"Yes, as far as I know. Considering Bitch hasn't made an issue of it you should be in the clear," said Brian. What did he mean 'in the clear'?
"Hey, eat your dumb deer food, we have important business over here," shot Alec as he unboxed his consoles. Three of both an Xbox and Playstation. "So I did the math and I got two of each to make a super version of either, and then two more to experiment."
Well, I did offer to do it if he fronted the costs. I sealed all the game consoles and did as he wanted. None resulted in a rare card, merely an [Xbox Super, [Playstation Ultra, and [X-Station].
"So. Cool." He was drooling over them, literally drooling, and I know for a fact he was acting. Maybe. It's hard to read him sometimes. I unsealed his consoles and he took them in his arms like they were the most precious of children. "Same disc slots, memory cards seem the right size, plugs no different. Sweet! Wait, what the heck is this. Aw man, experiment failed."
I was unpacking my books, organizing them in piles by their subject, when Alec set the [X-Station] to the side. "All the cord slots are this weird shape like I need both stupid… versions… holy crap."
He grabbed the cords from the boxes and tossed them at me. "Hey!"
"Quick, combine this one to this one, and this to this."
Wow, rude much? I did so and he went back to try them again to no avail. I snorted in that meagre retribution but also a bit disappointed as well. Combining technology failed more often than not.
Brian leaned over the couch and read the covers of a few. "Interested in learning to fight?"
"Yes, I sort of got my butt kicked by a bully in school when I really shouldn't have. I mean, teenage girl does not equal trained heroes." The whole 'costume actually makes me a lot better than actually I am' fact was becoming more obvious in hindsight.
"That is totally not how you described it to me," said Alec. I shot him a withering glare and thankfully Brian didn't ask about it.
"So, why these books? Reading so many different styles will do more harm than good. I recommend finding one that fits your body type and keeping with it for a few months," said Brian.
Alec guffawed and wiped away an imaginary tear. "She's not gonna read them, musclehead. She's going to cheat like a proper villain should."
Ah, that grimace Brian had explained how he felt about that clearly enough. He was probably a trained fighter then? I confirmed Alec's statement. "It would be the easiest and quickest solution, if it works. I've never really done much with books, so chances of it flopping are high."
"It still would help if you learned the basics for something. A solid foundation will always be good no matter what your power," said Brian. "I've made it mandatory for everyone on the team to take a first aid course and be able to hold their own in a fight."
I glanced at Alec, who shrugged with a smirk. "Sorry, Tay, but without power shenanigans I'd clean the floor with you."
That answered some questions then at how a few teens managed to be long-lasting villains in a city like Brockton Bay, powers or not. "That's smart. You wouldn't happen to have a card or something for that first aid course? I read a book on it a while back and recently had to, uh, use it?"
I wasn't sure if I should be disclosing the fact that I saved Squealer's life, but that was vague enough, right? "Definitely agree with you, though."
"Yeah, one second, let me write down the address."
Alec had put up his consoles near the television and hopped next to me on the couch. "Alright, business time. Let's get down to breaking the laws of reality!"
"Okay then? Combining isn't as exciting as you're making it, you know?" I grabbed two of the martial art books and sealed them into cards. Each of the names on the card were whatever the title of the book was. I tapped them together and let the magnetic pull I felt combine the two into one.
"Sha-shing. Pawahwah, dun dun dun." Alec tossed some glitter at the card while making noises. "There, so much better with sound effects."
"Oh, gee, thanks." It was my first time combining a book so I unsealed it to see the result while deeply hoping it wasn't nonsensical gibberish. "That was 9 Steps To Tae-kwon-do and Self-Defense for Dummies."
Brian came back and handed me a note with an address written on it while reading over my shoulder. "A Dummies Steps to Defensive Kicking. Written by, huh, there's no name."
I opened it and flipped through the pages. There was a lot of pictures, annotations and explanations on how to kick people. "At least it's legible. That means that books are good to combine, but this seems almost worse than either of the books. Although, if I'm fair, it's extremely easy to understand."
Brian squinted at it and motioned for me to hand him the book. I did so and Alec tried to grab it before him while complaining about his greedy meat paws touching precious merchandise.
"It's a bit too easy to understand," said Brian. He flipped through the pages quickly, likely having no time to read, and then closed the book with a snap. "I barely read anything but I feel like I read it in entirety."
He stepped back and took a stance before performing some low kicks and a middle side-kick that was aimed at the liver, an incapacitating attack designed to quickly… "Holy crap, I understood that."
"Yeah." Brian tossed the book back to me and Alec snatched it to read. "It's not complicated stuff, probably worse than either of the base books, but it made it easier to absorb. It wouldn't make you instantly better at actually fighting, I have a strong foundation, remember?"
Alec finished the book, really it was only like forty pages long, but in around a minute? "Meh, it's okay. I'll wait for the sequels."
Oh, right. "Wonder if that's how all book combining works, or just with nonfiction. I'm imagining some fantasy or science fiction novels being extremely weird to read if ever combined."
Alec laughed. "Why even be a villain? Just go around combining books and become a ghost author. Boom, millionaire, and you don't even have to worry about all the hard work!"
I smiled at the thought and filed the idea away for my own personal use. "It would still be villainy because I'm stealing other author's works. The life of crime just doesn't let me escape."
The other eight books were quickly combined into four cards, and then two. Neither were rare cards, although the titles had gotten more vague with each combination. "These two are second stage combinations, or at least that what I'm going to start calling them. Maybe, if it catches on. The more stages the process goes the more likely it will be a rare, but there are… what's the phrase for when it gets less effective?"
"Diminishing returns," helped Alec. Brian gave him a skeptical look. "What? It's an important term for gaming!"
"I need rarer or more valuable materials as it goes on, or at least a wider spectrum of base cards," I explained as I combined the [Comic Guide to Chinese Brawling] and [Sixteen Efficient Martial Throws].
"Doo-doo-dee-doo-doo-da," said Alec while wiggling his fingers. "Rare card obtained."
It wasn't anything grandiose. I unsealed the new rare book and it was comically thin for what was eight books combined into one. "The [Guide to Efficient Subjugating]."
Alec snatched it out of my hands and flipped through the book. Each page had pictures of the moves in a cute art style with descriptions around them and at the bottom in more detail. "Hey, I think—"
He didn't expect me to tackle him off the couch and rip the book from his hands. I rolled off him and took a deep breath. I didn't expect me to do that either. "Ow, what gives?"
I shot him a glare and calmed myself. "Sorry, but I really don't like it when people take stuff from me. Especially not the rare cards."
He rubbed his stomach where I might have kneed him. "Jeez, got it." He climbed back to his spot on the couch, Brian smirking off to the side at it all, and continued. "Like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Wait, it's gone."
"What's gone?" I asked.
"I read the book and it wasn't like before, I had complete knowledge of how to fight and everything! Not like stupid book knowledge, but like I've trained my entire life to know it." He shrugged and sunk into the couch. "Lost it when you took the book back I guess."
I flipped through the book and understood. Knowledge didn't exactly flood me, but everything I read I felt inside my mind and body, that secure memory of performing these moves so much I didn't need to think about them to perform. Oddly enough it was a feeling I knew and was familiar with since I felt it every time I donned the [True Magician's Mask].
Brian stood there, his gaze interested, and I slowly held the book out to him. It wasn't that we were familiar like I was with Alec, or that I was being generous. But maybe I was trying to be?
"You sure? I don't want to be tackled today," he said. I nodded and he took it to read for himself. As it left my fingers all the knowledge remained, but I lacked that perfect awareness of everything about it.
Alec snapped his fingers. "That's a damn skillbook! There's no way to consume it for a permanent effect, but like, holding it does the same thing. Taytay, you're power is craycray."
Ugh, no, please stop. Alec grabbed the gaming manuals and guides to shove in my arms. "Quick, here, do these next."
I obliged him because really, why not? Six of them became three, and combining all those gave me a rare card. It took less, maybe due to the wide range of information each had? Most martial art books were pretty similar, after all. "I don't think a [Player's Guide to Domination] is going to be useful, but here."
He read it and chuckled. "Yeah, agreed there. There's a lot of knowledge about methods, but nothing good for the games I'm playing now. Although, maybe if I—wait, why aren't you going psycho over this?"
I shrugged. "Why? It's a worthless gaming thing."
Alec's stare made me shift uncomfortably. "What?"
Brian tapped me on the shoulder and handed me the book back. "It's really useful stuff to know. Alec was right, earlier. You don't have to be a villain. Tattletale mentioned your powers come with a need, so I won't pry, but you have options. I'm not ashamed to say I'm a little jealous."
I squirmed a bit from that compliment, because I chose to take that as a compliment and not anything else it implied. It's been a while since I realized I could handle the void's cravings without stealing. Just… there was a lot more to it than that. I mumbled, "It's complicated."
"Yeah, it tends to be." He nodded with understanding.
All that was left were the magic books and weird wizard fiction I grabbed. Well, that and the do-it-yourself books, but those weren't for combining. "One second."
A few chain unsealing and sealings later I had my duffle bag full of assorted jewelry on the floor. Brian whistled as Alec perked up. "Shinies!"
I was dangerously low of any rings so I went with four silver necklaces to make a [Pristine Silver Necklace]. This was the moment to see whether I wasted my time, something far more valuable than the items or money, on Alec's advice. I combined the [Guide to Efficient Subjugation] and [Pristine Silver Necklace, for once without Alec's sound effects.
[Necklace of Subjugation, a silver chain with a tiny book pendant. I unsealed it and put it on. Knowledge of the book that had been came back once more as if instinctive and long known.
I sighed in relief. "It worked."
Alec smirked. "Was there any doubt?" A lot, actually, but I didn't say that.
"So, not sure if Alec brought it up, but our boss was interested in a deal. I admit I'm now interested as well, but the only thing I have personally is cash and my power." He ran a hand through his cornrows. "I'll also sell my power to you for cash if you're open to that."
"Really!?" I nearly jumped out of the couch. Grue's [Deep Darkness] was an incredibly convenient card that I really needed more of. It went into my [Unflare Gun] and the [Dimension Doors]. "Ahem, I mean, I'm amenable to that. To you or your boss. To be honest I need materials more than cash right now. What were you wanting?"
"Yeah, Grue-man, what do you want?"
"One of those necklaces like that, or maybe a tool for defense. It's, um, not exactly for me so if it was lowkey or less obvious that it was power-based that would be great. Ah, maybe not, I could say I ordered it online. It's for my sister."
I understood immediately. "This was a proof of concept anyway, I can swing by and grab more later. This necklace for, what, six cards?"
He shifted uneasily. "That's a lot cheaper than what you gave that ring up for."
"Um, yeah," I muttered. Even with our fight earlier I could imagine the dangers of the city coming at Dad very clearly. Doubly so since Brian was black and the fucking Empire existed in our city. "Eight then?"
He agreed and after a few minutes of him blasting darkness and me sealing it I gave him the necklace. Oh, the void did not like that, but I steeled myself. Maybe because his darkness wasn't something new, but I didn't get the same positive feelings from owning them like I did the first time.
"Thanks," said Brian with a big smile. He cared a lot about his sister, huh?
"So, magic books," said Alec drawing attention back to them. "If the process holds true, would you be able to do magic?"
I laughed and wandered back over to seal all the magic and wizard fiction. "What, that's, just no. It might give you the knowledge to do magic, but magic isn't real. Could probably fool someone into believing it was real though."
"Oh yeah? Prove it," challenged Alec.
"Well, you two have fun. I've got somewhere to be," said Brian as he made his way out of the loft. "Please don't burn the place down."
We ignored him because that might be a legitimate concern. "Fine, fine, look."
I had sixteen books in my hand in the form of cards. The wizard novel was a long series. One by one I combined them in pairs, then combined those, and then those. When I hit third-stage combinations the pair had turned into rare cards. This would make it a fourth stage combination, or a rare and rare combination.
"Doo-doo-dee-d—Ack, why'd you kick me? Sound effects make everything better!"
I unsealed the book to get [Hot Streak: The Life of Fire]. I didn't pay attention to the in-between naming sense, but this was a ways out from being about a detective wizard. Maybe it was the context of the stories?
Alec made grabby motions with his hands and when I handed it to him the void ached. Ow, what in the world?
"Tay. Tay!" Alec held the book in one hand and snapped his fingers. "Magic!"
A flame sparked above his hand and hovered there. A moment later Alec was on the ground and the book was rightfully back in my hands. The gnawing void quit biting back and settled down.
"I should've expected that, yet I didn't," claimed Alec without getting up. He snapped his fingers again. Nothing happened. "Dang, I still know how to do it. Bummer that it's like the other books."
This… this was dangerous. I browsed the contents of the book and it scared me. I sealed it and tossed it into the [Forbidden Deck] before stashing that away.
"Ooh, what was that?" asked Alec.
"Nothing, you saw nothing."
He grinned. "Oh yeah?"
I glared at him. "Yes."
He tapped his chin with a finger. "Well, I suppose I could forget if, maybe, I had a new costume?"
"You want me to bribe you into silence? Yeah, that makes sense. Sure, fine, why not." Combining new stuff calmed the incessant void anyway, so I was okay with it. It was just a costume, right?
"Sweet." Alec ran to his room and brought back several of the same costume. "More is better, yeah? For a more flawless base item. Hey, I listen to your ramblings."
I sealed his costumes and gave him a pointed look. "Seriously though, no talking about that deck. Don't even mention that magic book."
Alec paused and then shrugged. "Sure, I get it. Dangerous abilities make people uncomfortable, right, so you use something tame or weaker."
"...Yes, exactly," I replied. It still unnerved me when he shifted demeanor like that so quickly.
"Gotcha, Dissy," he said with a wink. Whatever, I combined the outfits for him just assuming he wanted it perfect like he did his pillows and clothes. Turns out I was wrong.
It wasn't just a costume.
--
Author's Note: I don't think I'll do it every chapter, but since it's been a while here is a list of her Rare Cards that are in use. Forbidden Deck is still forbidden, my friends. Why yes, she lost a lot in the Apology Fight.
Current Deck:
[True Magician's Mask]
[Universal Radiophone]
[Unflare Gun]
[Emerald Ring of Jaunt]
[Mountain Stick]
[Gold/Silver Rings of Restoration]
[Necklace of Subjugation]
1099
Glazt
Mar 30, 2019
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.A - Alec Interlude
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Mar 31, 2019
#2,911
Ignore this update's contents for a moment, this small chapter can wait. What can't wait is that I've fallen in love. Yes, it's true! With a particular fanfic called Conference Call written by Pachycephalosaur. It's a multiple crossover-a multicross-between Worm, Homestuck, Naruto, and Mother of Learning. Now that sounds awfully intimidating, and while knowledge of any of the source materials would help you enjoy it, you don't need to know any! It's very well written and interesting. Four teenagers in four universes struggling with their daily problems of being, well, super-powered teenagers and they get support one another with cosmic AOL. Highly recommended and I probably won't stop doling out love for thiis fanfiction until people hate me for it.
This update is sponsored by Conference Call, but not really I just want to share the love. If you enjoy Pick A Card there's at least a 63.7% chance you'll really enjoy CC.
Thank you much love to Massgamer and Doctor_Shenanigans for beta'ing my fic.
AND AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING AND YOUR TIME!
--
PaC 3.A - Alec Interlude
-
Life was like a box of chocolates. No, wait, life was like a box of paints. Colors for every moment, some dark and some light, most just matching the moments. Then someone comes in and smears your paint of one color all over you, and then does it again and again, and then you're so covered in paint that you...
Skipping that, it meant that now you don't have paint for those colors. See, life gave you a limited supply because shipping prices were outrageous so you had to deal with what little you had left, except now that you're covered in so much paint it's hard to tell what color is what and most of what you still have just doesn't have the same impact anymore.
To go anywhere with that stupid metaphor, because he really let it get messy, Discard was like someone gave him a bit of new paint to work with. Alec thought about that for a moment and agreed that, yes, Discard. Not Taylor, the girl beneath the mask, but the Cape. The Villain, capital v.
At least at first.
When Tattletale has showed them all the videos of Discard's robberies he, like any other self-respecting teenager, found them interesting and comedic. Doubly so because he was a villain, sure, but the fact was that nobody did that. Uber and Leet had their own show, but they were hilarious in that pitying way due to their failures.
But not Discard.
Meeting Taylor ruined the image. She reminded Alec a lot of his siblings from home, in her posture and speech. Siblings whom he felt he should care about, and was annoyed that he didn't, so on a whim he gave a little initiative.
And everything went smoothly. Discard was a treat, something to keep his interest and even further keep in sync with his quips and jokes. Taylor… didn't, not really, but she turned out to be interesting in her own way.
The Undersiders were a good team, a good gig that let him rest on his laurels. Keep low-key and simply enjoy himself. From her opening statements Discard was exactly the opposite of that, so again he had to take initiative.
Which led him to somehow advising Taylor with her power at times. It… he wasn't sure exactly what he felt if he was honest, but it was nice when he saw his actions bear fruit. Taylor, or Discard, putting his ideas into motion and creating what he suggested.
Maximum reward with minimum effort, simply talking. He loved stuff like that. With Grue as the leader and Lisa as the Thinker he rarely had something to suggest or bring to the table. To go back to that paint metaphor, or was it an analogy? She gave him new color in his dull life.
Staring at the card, his card, made him wonder if that color would be taken away.
[The Puppeteer Prince] glinted in the light of the loft, a costume much like his normal one except exceedingly fancier with more frills, stitching, and decorative design. Logically he knew she didn't name her cards but when he read the name he couldn't help but suspect.
Did she know?
Tattletale might have a clue, maybe even their boss, but everyone else didn't and he planned to keep it that way. He chafed at the rules and limits he put on himself, sure, who wouldn't? Alec's power could be terrifying, was terrifying. He could understand why Taylor hid parts of her own, even if he thought it lame.
"You alright?" she asked. He had frozen in thought, quite uncharacteristic of him, and the light tone of the mood was shifting. He could read her because it was Taylor, a girl who really wore her heart on her sleeve when her guard was dropped.
"Haha, no problem, no prob," said Alec before he dramatically waved at the card. "Just waiting for you to, you know, poof it. I can't exactly try it on if you keep it a card!"
If only so that she doesn't linger on the name.
"Right." No flash, no fanfare, just one moment it was a card and the next she's unfolding a costume. A long-sleeve white shirt that was supernaturally soft to the touch much like most of his clothes and bedding now. Pants of similar quality, both with european-styled embroidery on them, and a silver and gold crown lingering on the collar, just the right size for a prince. It wasn't the cheap crowns he originally bought.
"Gimme a moment to try this on, Tay." She laughed, too quietly to be expressive but not high enough for a giggle. She was often like that, when they talked without her in her own costume. On the edge of being normal but then suppressing it at the last moment. No, what's the word? Being subdued.
The new costume fit like it was tailored to him. It was perfect if he was being honest. The texture and weight were so impossibly good that Alec might never change out of it if he didn't need to. Lastly, he put on the crown.
A jolt struck his brain. Not literally, but he felt a connection when the costume was completed. It was a rare card, one with a power or ability, and it came to him like his power did: instinctive and knowing.
Sparks filled his range like a little map in his mind. Alec's power had an impressive range limit when he had full control, but otherwise it was fire and forget. A twist of a nerve here, a manipulation of a muscle there, and it was a horrible misuse of his true potential.
But every twitch and spasm let him understand the target and how their body worked. With more understanding meant they were usually bright on his mental map. Something he could take over at a moment's notice when they were in range.
To have that suddenly filled with lights, tiny ones of people that he'd used his power on once, was thrilling. Not to mention the people he's used it on multiple times. Nobody was nearly so in depth that he could connect to them, but this? This was extraordinary and still not what it all the costume did.
Alec jumped out of the room and posed. "Hey there, magic girl. Like what you see?"
Taylor rolled her eyes and got up from the couch. She had sealed all of her books and had that look, like she remembered something important. She was so easy to read he could only imagine what Tattletale got off her.
"Very much so, the clothes are a real work of art. The model though could use some work," she snarked. Ow, if only he could actually have hurt feelings. "So, do you know what it does?"
"You know what my power is, Taytay?" A beat passed as she thought.
"It was you who made Dauntless drop me that time. I think I read it was something like muscle spasms?" she offered. So no, not the specifics at least.
"Close enough. This, though, lets me keep track of them! Like, hmm, a prince keeping tabs on his subjects. Wait, no, on his peasants! Yes, that has a better ring to it," said Alec.
Taylor frowned and started to get that look. "That's all? That's rather tame for a rare card, I think."
Did he want to? It would be tipping his hand a bit, but this was the girl who gave him that hand. Alec could feel gratitude, or at least know it, and decided that if someone deserved to know it would be her. If only because if she found out later she might stop associating with him.
Alec… didn't want that.
"Well, it does another thing, but it might be a bit freaky." He lowered his tone to show that he was serious, an opposite of his usual self he displayed. It both put Taylor on guard and also made her curious. "You said you don't get a manual with your cards, right?"
"Yes, it can be annoying to figure out how to use them or even what they do," said Taylor. "I'm only now realizing the extent of what the [True Magician's Mask] does!"
"It was pretty easy to understand for me. Maybe because it helps my power, and powers are pretty instinctual. Card combinations and them are finicky, but you never questioned on how to use your actual power, yeah?"
Taylor nodded without having to pause. Yeah, using your powers was the easy part. Mastering them, he chuckled at that thought, or even understanding the nuance could be difficult.
"Well, now instead of just the spasms, raise your right hand real quick, I can do this!" Taylor inspected him for a moment and then raised her hand.
A rote gesture, swinging his arm out, something that he didn't have to do but did help form a sympathetic connection. Alec usually pinged off his own brain trying to send signals into another body, or whatever his power did, and the spasms were sharp misfires that the other body didn't agree with. He had a lot of control over the specifics of what happened in those misfires, but that was the secondary result to him trying to probe and understand his target's body.
Alec flexed his hand and his power at the same time. If he went back using paint before the costume it was like he had to throw it at a canvas, messy and with little control of the result, until he made a masterpiece. This… this was like he was given a brush.
Taylor's hand flexed in sync with Alec's.
She jumped back a foot and Alec could see her cane in her other hand. Quick on the draw and unsealing even without her costume. Alec didn't say or move, letting the girl come to her own conclusions and to relax. It was one thing to make a spasm, but she had given him the ability to slip into someone like a glove.
What would take him hours before now could take less than a quarter hour. Maybe even minutes, he wasn't exactly sure. Of course Taylor didn't know his true power, but giving someone an item that let them become a Human Master was already something he knew she didn't like. This is the girl who made a book of fire magic and deemed it too dangerous, after all.
"That was spooky. You can now, what, control people?" she asked.
He held his hands over his heart. "No, no, just do that. Monkey see, monkey do. Except they don't have to see. I kick, you kick, I throw my arm, you throw your arm. And it's only for a second."
He did it again, released his left hand and made Taylor drop her weird cane weapon. In the next second before she reacted he used the same hand to catch it before it fell. Of course he had to mimic the same moves in his own body, but that was a minor detail.
"Stop," she growled. Whoops, crossed a line. He dialed it back and jumped on the couch.
"Sorry, sorry, it's just great to have some kind of control. Shit, it's not like I had a top tier power or anything before, you know? Promise I won't do it anymore. Just reveling in the feeling is all," said Alec. He tipped his crown and even sounded apologetic. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.
And now she lit up on his mental map, the brightest one in the city now.
Taylor sighed and put her cane stick thing away. "Yeah, sorry. I understand that feeling, but your power is a bit creepy, you know? Well, now it is. I didn't think that a costume would affect powers. I wonder…"
Ah, that look of curiosity again. A troublesome look, that. Alec was pretty sure that was what a Tinker looked like when they had an idea in their head. It was a look that made him expect Discard to do something interesting. That was a look that he loved about Taylor.
"Don't mind me, Taytay. You had an errand to run, right?" he said.
"Huh? Oh, uh, did I mention that?" She didn't but he nodded anyway. "Right. Thanks for the help, Alec. Really, it was… nice."
"Just don't forget to make yourself another kickass necklace, girl. I still say you should step it up a notch for those bullies. Heck, I know some great ditches. Think about it, me and you, midnight next to the sea, a nice breeze and a couple bodies with cemented feet." It did sound rather nice if Alec was honest.
"Murder as a date?" She got that curious look again but then shot him a glare. "Those video games are making you violent. There are articles about that kind of stuff. But yeah, I should go get more books."
"If you ever change your mind I got your back," he called as Taylor made her way downstairs to leave. He watched her in his mind as she left and sighed as he missed a chance today. Not one he would take, not yet.
Today was a good day, time well spent. Discard was amusing, interesting, and slowly the line between her and Taylor was disappearing. Especially if he could help it.
--
AN: Royal Flush is seriously a-go, and we get to see the other side of the card. Do you like it, hate it, does it break immersion? Who cares, we need more action, I know. T_T
1041
Glazt
Mar 31, 2019
View discussion
Threadmarks 3.5 Entente
View content
Glazt
Glazt
Writing for hate and no profit...
Apr 6, 2019
#3,098
I don't deserve you, my maybe-loyal readers! Everybody reads Pick A Card for different reasons, and for some this next update will hallmark the finale of Arc 3 Entente as the Slice of Life arc. Back to heisting and whatever else it supposed to happen in this fic that isnt talking, ugh. So instead of reading this garbage fic that I'm writing, how about we pick up where we left off last intro with fic recommendations!
Do you like OC's? Perhaps you crave Worm, but not gawdawful Brockton Bay? No? Uh, still, you should go read an amazing fic that is updating often called Lend Me Your Ears, a wonderful All-OC Non-BB wormfic in St. Louis about the raising and life of a newly implemented Wards team! Sounds interesting? It should.
On the other hand... do you like Doctor Who? Maybe Post-Canon Taylor? In Please Like & Subscribe we have a short, but very sweet fic of that Taylor back in time! It's written in a pleasant and hypnotic second-person script that is just a joy to read, and if you hate reading, heathen that you are, the author has done it as a podcast/audiobook style on YouTube!
Yeah, I know, just things you won't chance, right? Scary new and weird ways that aren't Pick A Card. Truth, all of it truth.
Much thanks to my betas for bothering with me: Doctor_Shenanigans and Massgamer!
AND AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING!
--
3.5 Entente
-
That was creepy.
If I had to say whether it was a good creepy or bad creepy, it was probably good? It was a show of support from Alec, no matter how he put it, and that knowledge comforted me. Now, the whole costume upgrade making his actually creepy power of making people twitch suddenly go to partially controlling their movements for a moment was something I regretted. Not enough to take it back--I did offer and it wasn't like his power was an ability to nuke city blocks or anything--but to be wary of future endeavors.
Wary, but curious. Everyone probably didn't have multiple costumes like he did lying around, his weird fixation on having everything new or nearly pristine having helped him in this case, but it brought up the idea of making costumes for capes I liked. How would a rare costume affect someone like Mouse Protector or Miss Militia? What about... a... Tinker?
No, that was a bad idea. I knew exactly one Tinker and did I really want to know what an enhanced giant vehicle Tinker could do? Sadly, I did, but that was maybe after I got to know her better. My feelings toward Sherrel was still something complicated. On the one hand I had a former drug abusing gang member that helped lead the scum of Brockton Bay, and I'm hoping she stayed former. On the other I had a particularly vulgar lady who was a good chunk older than me and an experienced cape that was actually likeable when she was sane.
God, what did that say about me when Alec and Sherrel were the only people I could potentially call friends?
I stopped by the used book store and spent another half hour gathering enough self-defense and martial arts books to make another [Necklace of Subjugation, as well as picking up a dozen magic books. This time I skipped the fictional novels and found many on illusions and sleight of hand. I did not want another weirdly lethal magic book.
After that I went down to Bluejay Bakery, an all-things-bread diner that served everything from pastries to pizza. I ordered two dozen various donuts because I didn't know what Sherrel liked and a large four-meat pizza for her. On second thought I added another large four-meat pizza for myself. After everything was ready I carried it out, embarrassed by the stares of a few passersby, and ducked off into an alley out of sight.
Yeah, I wasn't carrying all that all the way to the warehouse. I sealed all the foodstuff and checked the time. It was five o'clock and the sun was getting low. I was planning on preparing my next heist for tomorrow or even the day after, but trading away that necklace to Grue and the few items to Alec had roused the hungering void.
Well, that was being a bit dramatic. The void inside me, the all-consuming want of my power, wasn't starving, and it will never be if I could help it. That moment when I used so much negative energy to seal the containment foam is still fresh in my mind. I shivered at remembering the deep-set coldness and horrible vertigo that overcame my senses then. The blur of memory and action until I ended up isolated with Mouse Protector standing before me.
I removed my hand from my wrist, my skin white from the pressure, and I took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. My heist would have to be tonight, no matter my preparations. I had the location from the ABB traitor and the guarantee that Lung wouldn't be there this week since he was overseeing something on the border of his territory about the Empire 88. Whether it was good or bad information I hadn't checked, but when have any of my heists been well informed?
I slipped in through one of the backdoors of the warehouse Sherrel was staying in. The woman herself was sitting on her lightning go-kart still dressed in my [Pain-Relieving Sleepwear] and was fumbling about over a small collection of metal plates and wires. She didn't even notice me step up near her and look at what she was doing over her shoulder.
Tinker fugues were commonly known about, if only through rumors and hearsay, but watching Sherrel use nothing but a screwdriver and a small blowtorch that was somehow hooked up to the go-kart itself was fascinating. Whatever the thing she was constructing was didn't matter to me, the sheer fact that I knew it was tinkertech was enough to have my hands grabbing at it. Stupid in retrospect, since that startled Sherrel and had her stab said hand with the screwdriver.
"Ah, fuck!" I swore and jumped back while clutching my hand. Damn, that stab scored deep and blood was already welling up to drench my hand.
"Jesus H. Christ, girl, what in the ever-loving fuck were you thinking!?" Sherrel flinched when she saw my hand. "Shit, sorry. Don't sneak up on a Tinker! Don't sneak up on anyone with a tool or weapon at all!"
I waved my hand to shake off the blood, the pain thrumming with my heart but lessening every second. My [Ring of Restoration] would have it scabbed in a minute and healed within the hour. Or at least healed by the time night fell. "Sorry! Didn't know your first instinct would be to stab me!"
Sherrel fixed me with a deadpan stare. "Dis--Taylor. Taylor, that is literally every person's first reaction in these fucking situations. I'm in an abandoned warehouse in Brockton Fucking Bay, a Tinker, and female to boot. What else am I going to do when someone scares the ever-loving fuck out of me?"
Good point. It was my fault, I knew that, but I shrugged and waved it off. She stabbed me so instead of arguing or being put on the defensive, I changed the topic. "You hungry?"
She clicked her tongue but smirked. "God yes, not even going to make a snarky comment about it. You got the grub?"
I grabbed the small card table out from the [Cozy Container] that was sitting off to the side and set it beside the go-kart before unsealing the boxes of donuts and pizzas on it. "Aw yes, this is perfect brain food."
Sherrel snapped open the pizza boxes and was about to tear into it before she glanced at me and in a polite tone said, "Er, thanks a ton. Like, gotta say it 'cause feels stupid if I don't." She began devouring the pizza in a way I wasn't comfortable describing.
At the sight of that I wasn't particularly hungry anymore. Instead I sealed eight slices of my large pizza and combined them into a single slice. I knew as a third generation combination, that is combining eight into four, then four into two, and finally two into one, it had a chance at being either a rare card or a high-rated adjective item.
I still wasn't entirely sure what the base items needed to result in the difference. Complexity, rarity, and value all had a part in it as far as I could tell. Going into a fourth generation combination with a single base item would probably result in a rare card since that requires sixteen items for an even process. Somehow I knew that going a step higher, to fifth generation, wouldn't matter nearly at all. What did Alec call it, diminishing returns?
Still, looking at the card with a frankly delicious looking pizza slice on it with the name plate reading [Slice of a Masterpizza] made me happy. Not void-happy, but just something that made me smile. For all the power I had at my fingertips, the need and responsibility, I chose to make super pizza.
I facepalmed at the awful pun my power gave. I noticed it did that occasionally, figuring that some of the naming sense came from my own subconscious, or at least used words that I knew the context of. It was an explanation as to why the names were in English instead of any other language on Earth.
Did that mean I had a fondness of puns, or that I hated them enough that my power uses them to spite me?
"Damn, you thinking so hard I can see the steam," said Sherrel with her mouth full. She must be too civilized to speak between bites. "Not sure if I'm the Mother Mary or whatever, a saint of an adult, but if I can help you with any advice be my fucking guest, ask away."
I tucked the pizza card into my general deck, the one full of random junk, clothes, and other stuff I owned but didn't want to leave around the house for Dad to find. Or at any stash spot or something. Or in my [Cozy Container]. Admittedly I didn't want to leave my possessions anywhere but on my person, and there was nothing wrong with that. It was perfectly normal.
"Okay, sure. Before I forget though." I pulled out the old laptop that I got in the trade from Tattletale and unsealed it to give to Sherrel. A Tinker could use a laptop, but a woman stuck in one spot for several days could use one far more. "I don't think there's wi-fi around here in the dead middle of the Docks, but I loaded up several series of novels I enjoyed."
Sherrel put down the food and wiped her hands on her clothes, the grease stains and cheese getting everywhere. Yep, never going to wear those again, she could keep them. "I... fuck, really don't want to just keep saying thanks over and over."
I waved it away, but it still felt really good to hear her say it. "Ah, well, I started this so don't worry about it. But it does bring me back to the questions. What exactly are your plans after you're, uh, better. I know you haven't heard any news, but Skidmark and Mush, along with most of the Merchants you brought to the hospital raid, are already being processed."
"Shit. It's the second strike for Adam and Paul," said Sherrel as she set the laptop next to her. I was afraid the glowing lightning go-kart would somehow fry it, but nothing happened. "This is a right clusterfuck of a situation, really. It would've been my second strike too, if I was caught. With us three together we could've broken out like we did the first time."
"Broken out from the PRT holding cells? Prison?" I asked.
"From either. Some advice for you, Tay, is that the first time you're arrested, as long as your rap sheet ain't murder or other fucked up shit, if you have buddies on the outside or have a decent enough power you can break free pretty easily." That seemed counterintuitive to basically everything I would've thought. Why would it be easy to break free?
"I see what you're thinking, but fact is the PRT here in the Bay ain't got enough resources to spare for us chump Capes. There's a new villain, vigilante, or rogue every other week that they have to deal with. Most of the time that means cleaning up what's left of them when they run into the bigger gangs, or when they go after the small guys. Usually the small guys are gangs like the Merchants, you know?"
I motioned for her to go on as she hadn't really answered my original question.
Sherrel slumped in her seat and shoved her face full of pizza before continuing. "Honestly girl, right now? The Merchants are dead. We barely were a name, scrounging for territory nobody wanted for people nobody cared about. Good fucking riddance if you ask me."
Her hollow, self-deprecating laugh made the hairs on the back of my neck raise. "What do you plan on doing?"
"I don't fucking know, I really don't. My mind says fuck'em, Adam changed and Paul never gave a shit. They won't be busting out without me to help, and right now I can't find a reason to try." Sherrel pinched the bridge of her nose. "But fuck if my heart ain't telling me I owe it to give them a chance because they'd do the same for me. Just try and jailbreak them, maybe. There's no way I'm going back, not after this fuck-fest."
I was quiet, unsure of how to respond to that. Did I stop her, change her mind, or allow it because who was I to say otherwise? As far as I kept saying I wasn't trying to control Sherrel, it was hard not to try and dictate what she might do, especially actions I didn't condone. "Say you do it then. Heal up, build something that lets you help them escape, and then do it. If you aren't going back to them, then what?"
"Why do you care?!" snapped Sherrel. She had other words on the tip of her tongue, I could see the anger and the want to rant and rage, but she glanced around the place. From the go-kart to the food and then back at me. "I don't know, okay? What could useless fucking Sherrel do anyway? Get a job at a fast food joint? I have nothing, no money or a real place to live or whatever else the fuck you need."
I shrugged, a forced one because I was far from nonchalant about the topic. "You could try to be a hero. You've committed crimes, yeah, but like you said, nothing really bad. If you break out Skidmark or Mush, well... that's just you owing them or something, right? Could turn yourself into the PRT. You're a Tinker, maybe they'd give you a deal. Get you out of the city and help you get set up somewhere."
An optimistic idea of the PRT and Protectorate, but all the effort they've put into my surrender made me wonder about it. Would they take a villain and help them turn over a new leaf? That was what the Protectorate was for, right? Not just fighting against other capes, but helping out people that had powers? That's what the Wards program read like, except for teenagers and under.
"Or," I continued before she could respond. "You could continue being a villain. Pick up a job as a getaway driver or just build things to rob places. Maybe even try to make it as a rogue and sell custom vehicles? The reason I guess I'm even asking is that I just... just want to make sure that this wasn't a wasted effort."
A sharp laugh. "A waste, huh?"
"Not like that." I scowled. "Saving a life is never a waste."
"Pep speaker you are not, Taylor"
"I'm really not good at this kind of thing," I said with a sigh. "I just don't want my home city to get any more fucked up. God knows I'm already contributing to that enough."
"Eh, there isn't much of the Bay left to fuck up. Whatever the hell I decide to do I'll let you know, okay?" Sherrel had nearly finished her food and opened the laptop.
Speaking of decisions...
"Hey, um, Sherrel?" Her name felt weird to say, even as much as Alec or Sherrel used my own. I got by with just saying 'you' or talking in general, saying names felt personal and social. It felt doubly weird when addressing those two. "You're an experienced Cape, right?"
"Hah, depends on who you ask."
"Well, here's the thing. I got a heist coming up tonight and I wanted to ask for some advice?" There, I said it. The lack of information did bug me a bit, but I was more worried that this would be my first strike against a gang of actual villains. A big name gang, the Azn Bad Boyz, ruled over by Lung. A cape that, as far as rumors go, was strong enough to fight off Leviathan.
"What for? Ain't much shit I can advise you on," said Sherrel with a snort.
I explained the situation. How I came across the information from a gang member who was skimming off the top and the prediction of Lung being nowhere near the site and having to deal with the Empire. It should be a simple heist, no real complications other than maybe being stabbed or shot to death.
She pondered that before slowly starting off, "I don't know shit about Lung's movements, but the ganger was probably honest. Happens more often than you'd think, so it's not uncommon. The unpowered mooks are where half the information comes and goes between the gangs. You think capes actually bother to investigate shit?"
I actually never thought about it.
"ABB is gonna be a tough one though. Empire would be too, but in their case they have so many capes they could be anywhere, but at the same time if you're quick enough and there ain't a cape there already you're practically golden. They ain't got shit for Movers except Rune, and she ain't a real one," explained Sherrel.
"But the ABB are worse?"
"Two words. Oni fucking Lee," growled Sherrel. "That's the thing with teleporters, and he's not one to ask questions before, during, or after he cuts your throat and tosses you in a ditch. If you're going in on the ABB, make sure none of them make a call because he'll be the responder."
"Got it," I said.
"What're your weapons?" she asked. "If you're going to go up against villains you need actual shit to scare them, not puns and glittering cotton clouds."
"No." I sat up straight in my chair. "I don't."
"Right, forgot for a moment you're fucking Discard, teenage thief who would rather banter than run the hell away. Girl who showed up to an event with heroes for the sole stupid purpose of fighting them and giving shit back you stole fair and square."
I bristled and she held up a hand. "No offense, Tay, but that's just how it is. You do you. Weapons are important, but since you asked me for advice and I gave it, might as well toss up another thing. You can have the stupid blowtorch."
"The what?" She gestured over to the massive welder she has first cobbled together to bash my head in when she thought I was a villainous cape saving her because she was a Tinker. I didn't even think as I got up and sealed the thing away.
A tingle of pleasure from the void, knowing that this piece of tinkertech was mine now, helped but still wasn't enough to halt my plans for tonight. I returned to the table with a bounce in my step and showed Sherrel the card, the spider on the back showing it as a Rare. Sherrel barked out a sharp laugh at the name. "[Cobbled Together Welder]? What kind of garbage name is that?"
I crossed my arms and added the thing to my equipment deck. "I don't choose the name. Going off of Dauntless' stuff it usually can go by whatever the name the person who created the item gave it. His was [Arclance] and [Skysteps, and I didn't even know of the latter before he confirmed it at the park."
"Ugh, maybe I did think of it as a cobbled together piece of shit blowtorch, but I wasn't in my right mind at the time. Whatever, it's yours now. It could hurt someone if you swung it hard enough."
"Thanks," I said. Giving me something to protect myself with, especially since she didn't know if I had better, but appreciated and noted. A Tinker giving away their tech, even something small like this? I could draw parallels with tinkertech and stuff I combined, so I understood the sentiment. "It's about time I go, sun's going down and all that. You need anything?"
"You're not twenty-one, right?" asked Sherrel. She frowned and ran fingers through her hair. "Of course not, and Discard ain't exactly gonna steal a case or three of beer. Nevermind, just some soda, water, or whatever."
Obviously. I got up before it hit me. I glanced between Sherrel, the go-kart, the food, and the very empty warehouse. "Hey, uh, you sure you don't need anything else?"
Sherrel shrugged. "Nah, you've done a lot already. Go do your thing."
"Okay then..."
"Hold up," called Sherrel as she snapped her fingers. "If you ain't about to pull out the big guns or whatever, what do you got for defense? Some villains play by a code of conduct, which means you probably won't be murdered outright, but the ABB and Empire can skirt that easily. Don't tell me your costume is bulletproof or something."
"I wish," I said. "Defense though? I got my healing ring and a teleport ring, and I can sort of fly."
"Yeah, uh huh. What about when you're being shot at by a bunch of skinheads or facing down, I don't know, a pyromaniac that turns into a dragon?"
That... right, I wasn't facing the heroes this time. I never had to worry about excessive violence, except by accident. Dauntless' ordeal made me have to solve my injuries and showed me what a Brute could do easily. While I could defend against certain things well enough, like thrown knives or a baseball bat, I didn't think I could seal bullets before they did their damage. Kid Win and Gallant's blasts were slower and heavy, but a bullet wasn't even a thing I could see moving.
"Defense, right. I'll see if I can't scrounge up something. Thanks, Sherrel."
She waved and started to work on the laptop. "Have fun, Taytay. Bring me back a souvenir."
——————————————————————
"Oh, it's you again."
I turned away from browsing the toy aisle to see who said that. It didn't sound like somebody I knew and nobody knew me as Taylor enough to speak with such... I guessed it was spite? He sounded like I was someone who spat in his food. "Um, excuse me?"
"What do you want now?" I looked the store worker up and down then peered at his nametag. Rob, a night worker at SchadenFreds. It took several moments for it to click that he was the guy who kept accusing me of hosting drug parties. Huh, his hair was cut way shorter and he didn't look too good.
"Uh, to buy things? Hey, are you doing okay?"
"Just fine! I'm onto to you, girl. Onto you!" I would've probably been more paranoid if he wasn't holding a push-mop and cleaning the floors. Jeez, buy a bunch of assorted things and a couple dozen bottles of spices and suddenly you're a drug... maker? Drug cooker? Whatever, a person who made drugs.
I wanted something that would take care of my main fear when fighting villains: guns. Most Capes didn't use them, usually defaulting to whatever their power was. Thing was, I really wasn't hoping to run into any capes on this heist and only had to worry about the unpowered underlings.
"Sure, sure, I'm not whatever you think I am." I continued to browse, looking between the toys for ideas. An umbrella would be useful and easy to carry if I could combine it would something sturdy. Maybe rubber bands or glue? I tossed those into the basket and chanced a few water guns. Not the huge super soakers from before, but the smaller pistols.
Rob rounded on my basket, his mop clutched tightly enough that his knuckles were white, and he hissed at me. "I know your secret, you twerp. You can't hide it from me, even if nobody else believes me."
"Uh huh." Jeez, all I did was buy a few items. "Say, do you have any magnets? A bag of the toy ones or kitchen magnets would be fine."
"Next row over, third shelf on the bottom to the left in the middle, next to the playing cards," he replied immediately. Okay, wow, he had incredible memory or had been working a little too long at a department store. He squinted at me. "Why?"
I pushed my cart around to the other aisle, Rob following in my wake while sweeping. "Art project. Just gathering random supplies because who knows what I might need, you know?"
The couple bags of magnets, mostly small bars that you used to pin stuff on refrigerators, were joined by some playing cards. Did I need them? No, but cards were always something useful to have on hand. Several other toy products, a few mirrors, and a few of these long metal poles I found in the camping section were all I could think of. Hopefully my experiments worked out like I was expecting.
Rob followed behind me the whole time, a bit unsettling at first, but he answered and showed me where anything I asked about was, so my shopping trip was a lot faster. I was about to go checkout but Rob waved me over to an empty checkout lane, put the mop to the side, and glared at me. Who was I to deny such helpful service?
"I know, you know? It's so obvious, but I nobody believes me. My manager called it harassment and paranoia, the bastard, but it's true. I know it is." Rob mumbled as he scanned, bagged, and placed all my items in the cart. His face scrunched up as he took my cash, inspected it thoroughly, and gave me back my change.
I was about to leave, overall satisfied with his service despite his manner, before Rob held my cart still with a hand and put a foot to the wheel. He growled low, a heat in his voice but something else I couldn't pick up. "Don't think yourself clever, girl. The RT-Series 601 Hydro Pump that you purchased the other week as well as that Heatherwalker Cast Iron Skillet were obvious, but the Nitro GTX Long Distance Hiking Aid? It has a distinctive look."
My breath hitched and my stomach dropped as I had to physically stop myself from drawing a card, any card. Rob's eyes met mine and he pushed my cart into me, lightly but forcefully still. "Everything you've done is on the internet, and there are a ton of people smarter than me. It sucks I can't stop you, but this?"
He released my cart and stepped aside, and finally I understood what else it was: fear.
"I-I can at least tell you to do it better. Stop focusing on the damn heroes and go be a Robin Hood." He pulled out a necklace and there, on it, was a pendant of Dauntless' helmet with his Arclance striking down through its center. "Don't screw over any more hero's careers if you really care about being better than the villains you criticize."
I felt a lump in my throat before I looked away and pushed my cart out. What could I say to that? A lot of things, sure, but nothing that would make it better for him, or for me. Instead I stayed silent and left.
"And don't come back here!"
--
AN: End of Arc 3, the last peaceful arc before the Fire Nation attacks. Everyone who thought this slow redemption arc was dragging on? Jokes on you, there is no redeeming the Queen Of Tonka-Trucks! Seriously though, shit is about to get ramped up.
Of course now that you're done with this chapter, maybe check out one of those fics I linked in the intro?
1008
Glazt
Apr 6, 2019
View discussion
First
Prev
2 of 3
Next
Last
Threadmarks
Sidestory
Apocrypha
Media
Informational
Staff Post
View content
You must log in or register to reply here.
Share
Worm
Style chooser
Contact us
Terms and rules
Privacy policy
Help
RSS
