AKA Daddy's little princess is a psychopath and her brother is a noble noob, but they both have standards. And Omega has a sad.


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-Tyrant Chimera, June 2023


When Aile said she had ideas, Omega couldn't help but chortle at Serpent's expense. Delight lit up his daughter's eyes as she schemed against the traitorous hero of Cinq Ville. Knowing Aile's skills at causing chaos, he didn't envy the man one bit.

"First," Aile proclaimed, "I'm going to see what everyone is doing after the attack. And then?" She nodded proudly to herself, "And then, heh heh. I am gonna go steal myself a frickin' cake and eat it, too!"

"Literally or figuratively?"

"Both!"

Her exuberance made Omega howl with laughter. He knew all too well the sorts of mischief his daughter could get into. As said troublemaker scuttled off to commit various petty crimes, excitedly muttering threats and plots under her breath, Omega couldn't help but smile. Despite the bizarre and worrisome occurrences of the day, Omega was just happy that his little girl was back on her feet already. Off and running, already preparing an onslaught of war plans and pranks like any good evil-doer progeny of his ought to do.

The first part of Aile's plan took an hour or two at most. She raced into town, snooped about, and found an electronic billboard playing some sort of news programs for the benefit of the residents. The attack was mentioned, of course, but being the smarmy asshole that he was, Serpent was calmly proclaiming that the attack had been fended off. Of course he would say something like that. The involvement of the Guardians was barely remarked upon by the news anchors. There was only the slightest mention of some of their forces recovering. Aile spat on the street, catching the attention of a little girl who looked on in confusion as Aile marched away from the thoroughfare, cursing the pink-haired fraud beloved by the city's residents.

Well. That answered the question of how things were going. Serpent was soaking up all the hero worship the idiot civilians could muster, while the Guardians were sat with their tails between their legs as they tried to figure out how to move against the local hero without painting a target on their own backs instead. Were they cowards? Or were they being sneaky like her? Aile figured that whatever reason they were keeping silent was their problem. She wouldn't be nearly so compliant. She ducked into her favourite pawn shop, bought some overpriced supplies, and proudly prepared to give the Guardians a little hand in her own way. After all, looking for Vent didn't have to be a boring affair, now did it?

Minutes later, because she could certainly work fast when she wanted, Aile stepped away from her first of many vandalisms for the day with a cruel grin spreading across her features. "Serpent the Maverick makes snakes look bad!" was now gaudily splayed on an alley wall in brilliant gold graffiti. Heh. Perfect. Her smear campaign was a go. She finished off her artistic installation with an offensively drawn green snake, gave it a stylized magenta hairdo that matched Serpent's, packed up her spray cans, and dashed down the street in search of a new location.

Every poster she came across was defaced. Every "Slither Inc" logo was corrected to either "Slither MaverInc" or "Stupid MaverInc", while ads and billboards and bus stop benches with his company's logo or his face were vandalized and desecrated with as many incriminating messages as she could. "Screw Slither Inc!" or "The face of a slimy sneak!" decorated every PR posting she could find. "Liar, Liar, maverick pants on fire," was probably her favourite taunt so far. A few paper posters were ripped up, covered in brown mud, and tossed on the floor of a public restroom. She'd never really liked the company before, but knowing now that Serpent was responsible for all the maverick attacks, that he proclaimed to be a saviour while aiming to cause so much death behind everyone's backs? That was a big overstep in her books. If you were gonna be a maverick, you had to be at least a little honest about it. He wasn't. Because of that, she took personal offense to his methods. It was ON, asshole!

Throughout the day she really didn't see much evidence of the Guardians, nor of Vent in particular, but she did get a few askance looks from the regular security forces. Just in case, Aile tagged a few of her graffiti pieces with a "Come find me, blue boy!" along with an obvious picture of Vent in his megamerged armour. That would get his attention, even if nothing else did! Aile moved fast and never stayed in one place for too long. She outran some guards, kicked over numerous mechaniloids, dented in the brains of a few of the aforementioned mechaniloids with her staff until they'd been rendered harmless, smashed a window to a branch office of Slither Inc, and she did, at one point, definitely steal some baked goods. Good cake was to be taken seriously. It was a late lunch but also a good one, if you asked her. The whole thing ended especially nicely when a Guardian and a Slither Inc secretary stopped and looked over at her as she licked icing off her fingers and leaned purposefully against a tree planter with the Slither Inc logo on it. They blinked, then abruptly squawked as she gave a final little push and tipped it over with a crash. Aile simply gave the Guardian a wink and booked it before the pair could do anything about it.

Aile only gave her mischief a rest when she saw police vehicles begin to patrol the streets. It wasn't the first time she had a cop car after her, but today definitely marked the first day that multiple ones were after her. She'd escalated her animosity against Slither Inc, and it seemed that the civil law keepers were responding in kind. Seeing as she'd easily wasted a few hours and that evening was approaching rapidly, Aile figured that she would have had to cut her rampage short anyways. It was time to go home.

Aile might not have found her brother that day, but she'd laid a pretty good foundation. The queen of mischief was pretty sure that the same news show that had reported on the maverick attack earlier was now doing a story on her rampant vandalism too. She wondered, with a malicious giggle, if they would try to correlate her and the increased maverick activity.

As Aile left the city, she turned around. The walls around Area C were stark and strong as usual. She had one last message to the enemy mavericks, and this might have been the most important of all. This time, the Imp had something special planned. With painstaking effort, she used the last of her supplies to draw several stylized portrayals on the nearby city wall. When she was done there were four caricatures. One was the standard green, stupid-looking snake with Serpent's hair. She made this one as ugly as possible. There was a picture of her, of course, made as lovingly as she could, with her signature mask and spear looking incredibly heroic next to the other villains. The last images were a little less recognizable with their wicked visages... Unless, of course, you had come into contact with a very particular pair of mavericks. These two doodles stood out above the others. A grim reaper with a teal cape, and a witch in white robes. The image of herself, the Imp, was blowing a raspberry at the duo. "I'm on to you, losers!" was written tidily across the surface.

The message was plain to see, its meaning undeniable to the relevant parties. She'd drawn her line in the sand. The gloves were off, the stakes were raised, and Aile would be damned if she'd let them all get away with things.

Proud of her work, she dumped the cans below her final artwork for the day, snorted in satisfaction, and headed home.

—-—-

To say that things were going as smoothly or jovially for the Guardians would have been an outright lie.

Reports flooded in on the screen. Prairie leaned back, groaning in exasperation as she resigned herself to yet another late night. Medical reports, maverick sightings, and various requisition forms or other bureaucratic paperwork glowed a gentle blue as they passed in front of her eyes. She sorted through them with her typical aplomb as the stars outside began to shine. Night had fallen mere minutes ago, though her day was far from over. Other operators typed away at their own work stations, muttering various complaints that melted together into a murmuring hum as the sound of the Grand Nuage's engines purred away in the background. A howling wind whipped at the windows, though Prairie was too far away to feel the chill it caused as it leeched warmth from the air by the windows.

She heard the bridge door open. Prairie looked up from the various screens and images in front of her as she turned her chair towards whomever had entered. She gave a simple, tired smile as the new arrival surveyed her, "Hello, Vent. Is everything alright?"

Vent saw her tired smile and heard the weariness in her tone. He frowned worriedly, "I'm… all right. I'll recover. Giro is alive, even if it's going to take him a while to get back up on his feet. If he ever does, that is…"

Prairie looked as distraught as Vent did. "I've… heard. We'll do what we can to aid his recovery. Rest assured that I'll take care of the matter personally."

Vent sighed, trying to drop the tension that had built up in his young frame. He didn't entirely succeed, "Thanks, Prairie. That means a lot. But don't you already have a lot to do, as commander? You're sure it won't be too much on your plate?"

Prairie smirked, "Too much to handle? Says the one trying to save an entire city, if not the world itself! I'll have you know that I can handle a bit of babysitting," she teased. Vent laughed weakly, but as he did so another notification popped up on her monitor. "Excuse me a moment," Prairie apologized, turning to read through the new information in front of her, "I just need to make sure this isn't important."

"Sounds fair."

Efficient as she was, it didn't take long for Prairie to skim through the report. She slowly sank in her chair, head in her hands. "Oh for crying out loud," Prairie gawked as she finished, "you have to be kidding me."

"What's up?" Vent asked.

"I cannot believe her."

"Who?"

"The Imp," Prairie clarified, "She's been causing incidents all day. After what happened today, you'd think she'd take some time to go recover and shake off everything that happened, but no." She shook her head sourly as her voice rose in frustration, "The girl stumbled straight out of a maverick attack, which would put most people out of commission for days at the least. Only this girl isn't 'most people' apparently; She has immediately turned around and hopped straight into waging a war against Serpent. Reports of her endeavors started trickling in barely an hour or two after you and Giro returned. Half of the current problems that arose from today are because of her efforts to cause chaos throughout Cinq Ville."

Vent was taken aback by Prairie's vehement complaints, "What do you mean, wage war…?"

"I mean that she's ridiculously resilient, and twice as determined to cause me a mechaneurysm," Prairie explained. "In less than half a day she's managed to vandalize no less than a dozen separate buildings, outrun at least five different guards that spotted her, steal from a bakery, completely deface every single Slither Inc logo or advertisement she could find, if not outright destroy them, and cause general disarray through an entire city quarter. And that's only what's been reported," she finished. Vent blinked, impressed and a little terrified, as Prairie continued to angrily growl, "I'm honestly just blown away. She just survived a maverick attack, yet she still has the gumption to get into her usual mischief! No, not even that! She's upped her game! This isn't just a series of pranks, it's an all-out assault on Serpent's character. Look at this." Prairie brought up an image. Vent couldn't help but chortle at the crudely drawn snake displayed on the monitor, and the brazen 'Slither MaverINC' scrawled in offensively neon lettering that accompanied it.

"Gotta admit, she's sure determined," Vent chortled, "can't say I disagree with what she's saying. Even though, obviously, vandalism isn't the answer."

"I can't tell if this is going to help our cause or hurt it, in the long run," Prairie bemoaned. "We were already in a tight spot with PR and public relations between the Guardians and Slither Inc. The citizens love him. If we start agreeing with the Imp of Cinq Ville, true or not, we risk the potential of being labeled maverick or corrupt. Even moreso than usual." Prairie scrolled through a few more reports, watching as another program started mapping out the Imp's route of mayhem through the city. "We can't rat him out without evidence. But the Imp is calling him out anyways. If we're not careful, this will just garner more support for Serpent as people rush to defend him from these 'unfounded claims'. Even though she's right." Prairie growled, "We seem to share a common enemy here, at least. She's obviously in conflict with Serpent. Yet with her blatant criminal methodology, we can't support her in the slightest."

Vent's mouth dropped, "Seriously? We can't help her at all, even though she might be on our side? This whole mess sounds really complicated." His eyes widened as he watched as the program finished its job and started compiling the evidence. Dozens of images of damaged objects, torn posters, vandalized walls, and inappropriate graffiti assailed him. "Yeesh, you're not kidding! There's graffiti sprayed everywhere!"

"Uuuugh. I know! Someone tell her to give me a break!" Prairie begged. Seeing as the girl in question was nowhere near to hear this request, the Guardian commander had little recourse but to rub her temples and glare at the screen. "An entire colony of bees would be less productive than this girl!" Vent couldn't help but agree, even as perplexed as he was about the Imp of Cinq Ville's aggravating mission. He also found himself a bit insulted at the sheer volume of the vandalism she'd committed. "One thing is clear, though," Prairie began haltingly as Vent snapped to attention, "she's looking for you, Vent. Some of the graffiti seems to feature you or allude to you. Here." She brought up one picture in particular, "Look at that. A blue figure, shooting a gun."

"Come find me, blue boy," Vent read out one of the many captions spread out before him. He cocked his head at the cryptic messages, "I've got a side quest for the wannabe hero? Dumb blueberries should look for Imps? What!? How rude!" He complained at her audacity. It didn't stop him from continuing to look at the images. Vent, curious and slightly incensed, leaned over Prairie's shoulder to read through a few more of the incidents and further confirm Prairie's claims. "Wait… I know a secret? But why a picture of an air conditioner? Or is it a vent? And a bird wing? What is that supposed to mean? Is she messing with us?" Prairie didn't seem to mind the unprofessional move at all, and let him peruse at will as he puzzled over the gallery of graffiti. His face went blank. Then he blinked, "Huh?! Wait, is that…?" Vent took another, final look at some of the images. His eyebrow shot up, "I uh, wow, uh… Prairie?"

"Yes, Vent?"

"Did she seriously paint insults along the bottom of an entire overpass? How did she even get up there?!"

"I wish I knew," Prairie moaned incredulously, "I wish I knew."

—-—-

Aile returned home for the night, breathing in her home's smell of rust and mildew with gusto. There was a grin on her face that wouldn't come off no matter how cold or unwelcoming her childhood residence seemed. Grit scraped underfoot as she walked into the deeper tunnels with a victorious swagger. Her father looked up as he heard her enter the same room as him and she hummed, the sound cheerily bouncing off the ragged walls.

Despite his earlier solemnity, Omega couldn't help but smirk at his daughter's good mood. "Any luck?"

"No. I sure had some fun though." Aile showed him some quick pictures of her many exploits. The pair laughed. They spent a little time bonding, pointed at the various images she'd taken with a stolen camera, and insulted Serpent with wild abandon. Then they allowed themselves to come back to the true task at hand… Locating her brother.

"This is going to take a while, isn't it?" Aile groaned unhappily.

Omega sighed at the change of subject and sat down on a boulder, patting it. Aile nestled in beside him. "I imagine so. Search missions are rarely easy." He admitted, leaning back and staring at the far-off ceiling above them in the massive cavern. Robotic structures melded into the metal and stone that surrounded them. In the distance, some of the walls sagged and flowed in bizarre patterns, almost as if they had long ago melted and solidified again. Neither of them knew what could have caused such devastation to the bedrock, and neither had commented on it for a long time. Not since Aile was very little, at any rate. Omega gazed at his daughter fondly, but there was clear hesitation in his voice when he spoke up again, "Aile…"

"Yes daddy?"

"You're growing up Aile. Now, more than ever, I can see that. A mission like this could take a lot longer than expected. It could take you quite some time to achieve this objective. I appreciate that you try and come home every night, but doing so also limits your movement."

Aile blinked, possibilities for her dad's train of thought dawning on her. "Does that mean…? Are you saying that I don't need to come back here all the time? No more checking in? What happens if I have to stay overnight somewhere? If I have to go a long way to track him down?'

"You are correct. You are no longer obligated to check in every night. At this point, it would be counterproductive to the mission." Omega confirmed as he nodded in understanding. "It's time for you to branch out without me. Have some space of your own. I trust you to be able to fulfill this mission without me, if you so choose. Check back if you can, by all means, but be prepared for longer excursions. Just in case this objective turns into an 'overnight' endeavour somewhere."

"Do you really mean it? Will… will it be okay?"

Omega sighed heavily, "You're old enough to take care of yourself if need be. I trust you. But," he glared chidingly, "just don't go doing anything foolish. You're by yourself out there." Her father paused for a moment. Then, finally, he spoke, "Still... if it gets too much you'd better tell me okay? It's okay to retreat if you feel overwhelmed. Don't be ashamed if things don't work out. I'm not going to let you get hurt. But do what you need to do."

Aile gave him a small, serene smile, "I got this, Daddy."

"You got this," he parroted back. You got this, he tried to say again, but couldn't bring the words to his lips. Unthinkable worry choked him, grabbed his throat in its ruthless grasp. Gods damn it. His student (not just his student, his baby, some hidden corner of his mind says) was growing up way too quickly.

Memories echoed in his head. Happy, childlike laughter and various conversations rung through Omega's consciousness, even if specific words escaped him in his sad nostalgia. (He thinks it sounded like Aile, when she was so young and vulnerable and cute and holdable, but he's too quick in telling these thoughts to shut up to think about why it stings so much. He tried not to remember her various bumps and bruises and tiny little smiles, nor the moments of hilarity and eccentricity as he watched over a child growing up with all the simple-minded determination and sheer stubbornness of youth. One who always knew she was safe and loved no matter what sort of menace she was being. He secretly coveted these memories, and didn't know why they were breaking his heart.)

Aile was growing up way too fast, Omega realized with bittersweet pride. So fast that it felt like he'd lost her, or what she used to be. The young child he'd once known and cared for, whom he had trained and scolded and loved too deeply, was suddenly no more. Dead, gone, completely unreachable. A new Aile was there in her place. She had grown into a respectable near-adult, one that was almost completely different from what had come before, yet someone he was incalculably fond of all the same. But still, it ached. He loved her now, yet mourned her loss.

It made no sense to grieve for someone who was still alive. To feel as much sadness as if she'd been killed. Yet there he was, happy for her success, and despairing over how much she'd developed. Aile was blossoming into a fine young woman. She was maturing so quickly… too quickly. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was silly to be anything but proud, Omega couldn't deny the pain.

Aile was growing up fast, and it hurt.