A/N Aftermath, and continuation.
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I got, really mixed reviews on the last chapter. (And a dumbass one who called this story PWP, Porn Without Plot)
So, I'm slowly returning us, to our roots, while still keeping all the previous events in mind so as to continue the story.
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Also I accidently used the wrong dates. Oops.
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Efail1: You mentioned that the way Kitsu was treating her imprisonment showed her to be a bit sociopathic
That's because she is. She lacks sympathy for anyone not going through what she has. And even then, she struggles to do so without projecting.
If you aren't someone she's attached to, she doesn't care. End of story. And even then, she struggles to think about others unless they're right in front of her.
DancingLeaf: I've always found the trope of the hero letting the villain live to be dumb as hell. I mean, for some I get it. Mr. Freeze is a desperate man who just wants to save his wife. Goblin is just a man struggling to fight his inner demon. Venom is murderously misguided.
But people like Joker, Carnage, ect? Death. Kill em all.
Vault166: It was mentioned before that [Conduit] can scan the Corona Gemma's of other parahumans with powers similar in mechanics to Kitsu's, to upgrade hers. She's just, never done so before Maureen. That's what Kitsu was talking about with her new ability when she was held captive.
Ben Turner1: Next chapter is gonna be a PHO response.
Grimnosh: Oops, I rewrote that fight scene about five times. Guess a little error slipped past.
Oh, the power struggle isn't finished. Far from it. Kitsu just knocked out another key figure. Granted, that key figure was a radical instigator. But their territory is now wholly unguarded and ripe for the taking.
RadChaos897: I thought of that on the spot. Hell, originally I was gonna have this be Kitsu's second trigger, her Stranger and Master power would be recycled into allowing something new to take its place. But, I thought better of it. Gonna save it for something worse.
And thank you for the compliments. I can't tell you how much they mean to me.
Kitsu would have done something more, if she ran into any of them on her way out. But as it stood, she walked out the front door when most were either asleep or out.
Loopy-Bubble-Sniffer: Agreed, but that'd be anticlimactic, and Kitsu was trying to send a message. That and she struggles to make cohesive illusions when pissed. Hence Crusader's arm blowing up instead of being severed.
Harripotterette: I get what you mean. Which is why I'm moving this back to its cutesy fluffy roots.
YeTianshi: Oh you'll see!
Draco0905: you, need to get grammar check. Also, you called a story with two whole sex scenes, porn without plot.
What?
Also, events in the Non-Canon good ending, have verifiably not happened. The good ending is a cutesy what if, not the real ending of the story. That has been stated, multiple times.
If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were trolling.
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-Date, Time-
'Thoughts'
"Speech"
[Shard]
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*Sounds/Actions*
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-Friday, August 13th, Medhall General Hospital, 1pm-
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Amy "Panacea" Dallon POV
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"How am I?" Carol asks from the hospital bed as I finish looking through her body.
She's been modified. Her body is different. Nothing too out there. But I've helped Kitsu with that damn bug enough to recognize its exoskeletal connective patterning.
A patterning that is now present and copied in Carol's bones. And I'm willing to bet money that once I check Mark I'll find the same thing.
"Healthy as can be." I say after a bit. "No sign anything happened. Hell, if I didn't have my phone blowing up I'd assume you just walked in here for no other reason than to chat. Speaking of, is the house really?"
"Yeah, it's, it's gone. Luckily we have insurance and I know for a fact we're covered, but." She says tiredly before sighing. "It's nothing you need to worry about."
"It's my house too." I point out.
Carol looks to me with a slight glare, and I prepare for another shut down. But, it never comes. Instead, she just, lowers her head and sighs.
"There was a lot of family stuff locked away in the garage. And I'm not sure all of it survived, if any of it." She starts. "On top of that, we'll need to find a place to stay. And there's all the paperwork I'll need to fill out, and we'll have to find a new house. It's just, not looking forward to the near future."
I sit here, stunned. Not sure what to say to that. I mean, I've, she's never talked to me. Not like that. She, she confided in me. I, I am so confused here.
"That, sucks?" I say unsurely.
"It does." She says before swinging her legs to the side and sitting up away from me. "You don't know where Kitsu is, do you?"
Oh yeah, she's back.
"According to Vicky, She was digging through the house. Looking for some undamaged clothes and Kratos." I answer her, remembering the frantic phone call.
"Missy was carrying Kratos when everything happened. Last I remember at least." Carol says as she stands up and turns to me. "Alright, does the hospital have any spare clothes I can use?"
"A few. Just call for a nurse on the remote." I answer as I turn around on my swivel stool to face Mark. "Alright, same deal."
"Give it to me straight doc, how long?" He asks in a coughing, raspy voice.
I ignore his dramatics and take his hand. Scanning through, I don't even need to look far to find the modifications. Same as Carol, his bones are modified.
*Ring*
And that's my phone.
Taking my hand off of Mark's, I go to my phone. Seeing it's Vicky I of course answer it.
"Hey, um, what about me?" Mark asks.
"You're fine, Vicky's calling me." I say.
"Okay, um, okay?" He says awkwardly.
Mark isn't used to me healing him. Hell, one of the reasons people thought he retired is because of how little he patrolled. And as a result, he never needed me to heal him or check on him.
"Hello?" I answer the phone.
"Hey, so, Mom and Dad up yet?" Vicky asks awkwardly, with some, crying, in the background?
"Yeah, they're right here." I answer her. "Is, everything okay? And, is that crying?"
"Yeeeaaaahhh." Vicky drawls out. "Um, that's what I'm calling about."
"They murdered him!" I hear Kitsu yell out in the background, quickly followed by more crying.
"What, murdered who?" I ask, now more than a little fearful.
"Murdered?" Mo-Carol says sternly from behind me. "What's going on?"
"Kratos, kinda took a bolt in the fighting." Vicky says. "You know, Kitsu's pet beetle? He's dead."
"My baby boy!" Kitsu cries out before screaming. "I should have kept that Hitler fetishist alive! Given her to Lung to put in the Snuff pits!"
"Hey! Stop!" Vicky starts yelling.
The sounds of wood and rocks smashing is all I hear before, splashing? Is, I think that's a hose.
"Um, what?" I ask.
I don't get an answer as Carol takes the phone from. Seems she got impatient.
"Victoria what's- okay, okay, yeah, just, can, can you put her on?" Carol asks.
'It'd be nice to know what's going on.' I think bitterly.
"Kitsu, Ki- okay, slow down. No, no you are not. You are absolutely not!" Carol says, getting more and more riled up. "We can get you another bug! Beetle!"
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"KITSU!" I flinch back as Carol yells into the phone. "Stop, are you still on fire? Put yourself out… okay. Wait for us and listen to Vicky, she's in charge for now."
It takes a few more seconds, but Carol hands the phone back to me. Before laying back down on the bed and throwing the hospital blanket back over herself.
"Wake me up when we're checked out." Carol mumbles.
"Hello?" I say into the phone.
"Yeah, sorry about that." Vicky says tiredly. "Kitsu, set herself on fire and it was spreading to, what's left of the house."
That's only happened once before, as far as I know at least.
"Speaking of, can you see if any of my stuff survived?" I ask. "My cd's mostly."
"Seriously?" Vicks asks. "Yeah, I'll see if I can't find anything."
"Thanks."
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-Dallon House, 2pm-
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Kitsu POV
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It's gone. All of it. Bakugo, Kratos, Mr. Star. My plants and mosses.
Some of my clothes survived. Not all though. My room is surprisingly the most intact. If you, can call a pile of rubble intact. But, the plants everywhere gave the room extra protection. Stormfront's lightning had overloaded the breakers in the house and set it ablaze on top of the massive fight. Have you ever tried to set a living plant on fire? Yeah, not easy.
Didn't save Bakugo, he died from his tote getting squished by rubble. And Kratos died from a stray bolt of lightning. His insides charred and unrecognizable. All that's left, is his shell.
Half of my clothes are burnt, and a good chunk are torn. That's a good fifty K right there. All that really survived were my Irida outfits that I use for patrol. The rest is a mix of skirts, shoes and tank tops.
Missy was taken to The Rig after the paramedics confirmed there was nothing wrong with her. Aside from a few bruises.
For some reason all cell signals were jammed until shortly after I arrived. That's how this got so out of hand. Cuntfront showed up, demanded everyone join her. Tried to take Missy, and, well.
Mom was the only one with the firepower to take out Stormfront, and she got taken out early. Then while Crusader kept Dad busy, Vicky and Stormfront wrecked the place. Vicky had the strength to hurt Stormfront, but not in any way that mattered.
I pointed out she could've jabbed something in her eye, to which Vicky blanked.
Anyway, Vicky vs. Stormfront saw Stormfront win. And then I showed up.
Moving the last board off of what's left of my bed, I sit down on the ruined mattress. All but one leg being broken and my blanket being half burned. Scorch marks and springs popping out through holes in the mattress.
I take what's left of my burned blanket, and lay down. This is, sadly familiar. A ruined bed, half of a blanket, and dirty clothes. Yep, feels like I'm back to square one.
At least now, I have something to wait for.
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-Dallon House, 3pm-
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Mark "Flashbang" Dallon POV
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Stepping out of the cruiser I look around the rubble. I see Vicky laying on the lawn with a bunch of stuff salvaged from the wreck. Coffee machine, fridge, bunch of clothes, few lamps, few chairs, and a bunch of other miscellaneous stuff.
Looking over, I see the garage is almost untouched by the fire, the only damage being that there's a hole in the roof. And the side. So the mementos should be safe.
"Hey Vicks." I wave as I walk up to the teen. "So, how's, hmm."
She looks up to me with an unreadable expression. Something between sad and bored.
"Betcha never thought ya'd need to give the, so your house is burned down, talk. Huh?" She tries awkwardly.
I give an awkward chuckle in return. Not really knowing how to go about navigating this.
"No, no not really." I concede. "The uh, the PRT got ahold of your mother. They're willing to put us up until we find a new house."
"That's good." She says quietly.
"So, where's the munchkin?" I ask after a bit more awkward silence.
"She's asleep in what's left of her bed." Vicky says. "Somehow."
"Well, I'll go get her." I say as I look to the rubble of the house. A few walls here and there still standing. "After, we gotta head to The Rig and sort the rest of this out."
"What about our stuff?" Vicky asks, turning her head to the pile of what she salvaged.
"We'll have to rent a storage unit." I inform. "Till then, well, we'll be fine. We just need to find a new house, till then it's just a matter of paperwork."
That's going to be fun.
"Alright, well, I'll see you at The Rig." Vicky says before flying up and away.
Watching her go, I turn to look back at the pile of salvage. A lot of it personal items and furniture that, honestly isn't worth keeping. Scorch marked chairs, half charred end tables.
"Oh hey!" I say excitedly to myself as I walk over to my old bike. "Ha! Oh I can hear Carol complaining now."
'Oh, your twenty year old bike survived the fire and my antique end table didn't?' I can hear her say accusingly.
With a sigh I notice that, it only mostly survived. The paint is half melted off and the tires are ruined. But, I've been meaning to change those for years now.
Turning from it and back to the house, I walk forth and through the rubble. Stepping carefully over wooden boards and crumbled plaster. Careful to not send myself back to the hospital so soon after leaving.
Stepping around a low wall, I find her curled half under a blanket with her tail curled up to cover herself. My, niece? Foster daughter, foster niece? Asleep on a leaning, broken bed.
'Fuck, that's another thing to deal with.' I mentally dread.
Michael is on his way. Or, at least that's what we're lead to believe. None of us have heard from Michael in almost four years now. Hell, circumstances not withstanding, I still wouldn't want to meet with him again.
Last thing he said to me was how I should be ashamed I let someone else rule my life and ruin my kid's future. So, yeah. No love lost.
"Hey there kiddo." I say as I crouch down to her. "Time to go."
She opens her eyes to meet mine. Those lively turquoise orbs that are always so full of mischief and life. Now, less so.
"Okay." She says after a bit, uncurling her tail and sitting up, revealing her hero costume, soot stained and dirty. "Carry me?" She asks as she outstretches her arms.
"Sure thing sweetie." I say as I hold my arms out for her to fall into.
Holding her as I stand, her chin on my shoulder as I step away. Only to notice her dragging the half burnt blanket with her, the torn edges getting snagged on some debris.
"Let go sweetie." I say gently.
"But it's mine." She mutters softly.
"We can get you a new one." I reassure.
"I don't want a new one." She answers back.
"I know." I say as I move my hand to hers and gently pry it open.
She doesn't resist, and soon I'm back to stepping over broken boards and shattered dry wall. Back to the PRT Cruiser.
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-The Rig, 3:30pm-
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Carol "Brandish" Dallon POV
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"I'm sorry Mrs. Dallon, we'll look into it, but you're still looking at a delay of two to four business days for the documents to go through." The insurance lady says over the phone.
"Understood." I say curtly. "Goodbye."
"Good-" She doesn't finish as I hang up.
Setting the phone back on its holder, I sigh as I rub my face into my hands.
The insurance company is deciding to drag their feet. Not unexpected, but a delay in paperwork? That's just them reaching.
"Everything will be fine." I say to myself. "Insurance will cover the house, I can pull more hours at the office to cover the increased premium."
The only thing I'm really worried about is finding a house. Property values in Brockton are at an all time low due to the drastic increase in, everything. But more than that, I'll need to find a four bedroom house within thirty minutes of the law firm.
'Concerns for another day.' I tell myself as I stand up. 'For now, my niece.'
My niece who just butchered seven unpowered people and executed Brockton's most hated. Publicly and while crying and begging.
'Second degree murder, reckless endangerment, excessive use of powers on civilians.' I count in my head as I get up and head out of the office room.
She's always been unpredictable. But in a more mischievous sense. Then she comes back and murders a score of people.
'She just escaped her kidnappers.' I remind myself. 'How many people did you kill when that happened?'
But that was during and I was doing it to escape. She already escaped and was safe.
'She's indestructible. She's always safe. She wasn't in a rage over her own safety.' I tell myself. 'She did what she did, out of concern for us.'
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Seems I don't have anything to counter that.
Legally however. Massachusetts is a Duty to Retreat state.
Reaching me and Mark's quarters, I type my temporary I.D. into the key pad, and step inside. Greeted to the sight of Kitsu hugging a suitcase in her arms. Ears splayed back and tail curled protectively around her front.
"Can, I stay with you and dad?" She asks, not looking me in the eye.
Looking behind her towards Mark, he just shrugs.
"She was given her own room." He says softly. "I told her it was up to you."
Looking back down to the little girl, freshly bathed and in her hero outfit. I can't help but picture her as a tiny Michael. Back when he was sweet and, well he was always quiet.
Another thing that he and Kitsu have nothing in common. Michael was quiet when he was a kid, and that never really changed. Except when he would finally lose his temper.
I'm tempted to make her sleep in her own room. If for nothing else than to set a precedence. But, she just found her way home from being kidnapped. And the first thing she finds is her home gone.
Crouching down, I pull Kitsu into a hug. A little awkward with the suitcase she's holding. But, it's the thought that counts.
"I'm, sorry I-"
"It's okay." I hush her. "We can talk later. For now, how about we just get some rest?"
She leans into the hug, her tail unwrapping from in front of her and coming around to wrap around me. Something I've come to notice it does when she's around others she cares about.
"Okay." She says softly.
I rest my head on hers as I rub her back comfortingly. This is a little girl who can fight monsters of biblical proportions and come out on top. This is a little girl who can resurrect the recently deceased.
And right now, she just wants a hug.
"Mark I just got of the phone with the homeowners insurance, don't make me call the life insurance." I say as I open my eyes to see his smug face.
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-Medhall General Hospital, 6pm-
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Steve "The Mechanic" Pappagallo POV
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*Beep*
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*Beep*
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"I know you're awake." A tired voice says.
Slowly opening my eyes, feeling the burn of the lights as I do so. And the lack of a headache following.
"Over here." I hear that voice again. "C'mon, I wanna go home and I can't do that until you're good for transport."
Moving my head to the side, I see a wavy brown haired girl in white robes. Small rounded nose, slim face, tired eyes. Looking at me as though I just cut her in line.
"Good, you're cognizant." She says. "Okay mister Mechanic, long story short. You got run over by a cruiser. You're not dying, now. Though with the liver damage I'm not sure how. But you have several broken bones and a severed spine."
I give out a weak chuckle at that as I look back to the ceiling. Me, run over by a car. Guess the world does have a sense of humor after all.
"You're not at risk of dying, and I normally wouldn't be here." The girl who I'd deduced as Panacea by her white robes continues. "But, you get special treatment for turning yourself in. So, do I have your permission to heal you under-"
"No." I cut her off.
She's silent for a bit. Likely surprised or some such by my refusal. Probably don't get a lot of people saying no to her.
"You do realize this is a one time offer, right?" She says. "You feel that? Bet you don't."
"What?" I ask as I look back over to her. And look down to her outstretched arm.
She's smacking my leg with one of those doctor's hammers. The one they tap your knee with. And there's nothing.
I don't feel anything.
"Yeah." She says with a patronizing smile before she stops. "Still sure you don't want it? Think about it, walking, running, sex, height."
"I said no." I reiterate.
She stares at me for a bit. Her tired, bored expression never changing.
She then shrugs and leaves me alone to my thoughts. Looking up at the tiles of the ceiling as I contemplate my position.
Countless lives taken and ruined. All by my hands, directly, and through my work. Losing my legs sounds like a pittance as far as punishment goes. No walking? Good, I won't go anywhere. No feeling? Not like I had much anyway. My dick not working? Not like I was using it for much in the first place.
In a few minutes, Panacea returns to the room.
"I said-"
"No, I get it. That's why I'm back." She says before dropping a clipboard on my chest. "Your arms still work so I need you to sign these."
"Huh?" I intone as I pick up the clipboard and read it over.
Refusal forms.
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Director Emily Piggot POV
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"Well?" I ask the young healer as she steps back out of the room.
"Here, I'm going home." She says curtly, handing me a clipboard before walking off.
Looking down to the board in hand, I see that he has indeed signed off on all refusal forms. He doesn't want to be healed.
So, a guilty conscience? Or just stubborn pride.
The fact he turned himself in is indicative of the former. In which case, I have my orders.
Looking up to my guards, Miss Militia and Velocity, I give a nod. They're the only two I trust to let me do the talking. And barring that, at least not instigate something like a certain blue armored tinker.
Velocity walks forward and opens the door, heading in first before me, and Miss Militia following behind.
Walking to see the haggard bedridden man, slowly opening his eyes. He looks to us with a sigh.
"So, time to cart me off?" He says in a gruff, depreciative voice. "Don't worry, I won't run."
"I'd make a joke about your current condition and you running, but I'm above that level of pettiness." I banter back, earning a slight smirk from him before he lays his head back down.
"Good for you." He says before holding his arms up. "Well, let's get this over with."
"About that." I say as I walk around to the side of his bed and sit down in the chair beside it. Affording myself what little rest I can after the stress of today. "I'm here with an offer."
"I'm not taking a plea deal." He says as he starts to lower his arms.
"That's not what I'm here to offer." I cut off the line of thought.
"What else could you be offering?" He asks as he lets his arms fall back down. "A job?"
"As a matter of fact." I say poignantly.
"You're joking." He scoffs, turning his head to look at me. "You're not joking."
"No Mr. Pappagallo, I assure you. I do not joke." I inform him. "You'll find I'm a very serious individual. You see, you have a very useful and rare ability among Tinkers. Anyone can use your cars."
"Anyone can use Tinker-Tech." He counters.
"Yes, but not every Tinker is capable of making their devices so user friendly towards others." I continue. "You don't have to look far. Simple devices, yes. But the more, niche, something becomes. The more, inefficient the devices use becomes for the average man. That is not something your cars have an issue with."
"Why?" Is all he asks.
"Simply put?" I intone. "We're desperate. Multiple factions of opportunistic villains are expected to show up. And all we have are capes, and regular PRT. Your vehicles turn the average man, into a low level threat. On its own, notable, but nothing special. Take into account you can make several with seemingly no limitations outside of resources?"
"Don't you have the worlds greatest Tinker on speed dial?" He asks. "Why, me?"
"Dragon is good." I admit to him. "But she can't be everywhere at once. And even then, she is incapable of doing what you do. You modify already existing vehicles. She creates. You would be more readily available, and less resource extensive."
He's quiet for a long while. And I'll admit, it's hard to get a read on him as he turns his head to stare at the ceiling.
"Should you accept. Steven Rivera Pappagallo will be declared dead after his failed rescue by the Merchants lead to him being run over by a PRT cruiser." I inform him.
"I can't be trusted." He says fatally.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"You can't trust me." He says with more conviction.
"And why not?" I ask with a raised brow.
"I'm a murderer, a villain." He says as he pushes himself to sit up. "I've killed, countless people. I've created cars that have killed countless more. Who's to say I won't sabotage your cruisers out of some sick sense of humor?"
Before I can say anything, Miss Militia cuts in.
"The fact that you pointed out you might do something, is honestly just more telling of how honest you are." She says. "Which, makes you more trustworthy."
He stares at her, glaring as though he's looking at a puzzle that's missing a piece. Questioning and contemplative.
"Director Piggot." Miss Militia says, turning to look at me. "May I speak with him in private?"
Sparing a quick glance between the two. I figure there's little harm. I trust her well enough to not do anything stupid. And I can see that nothing I say would get to him.
"Very well." I say as I get up.
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Hana "Miss Militia" POV
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Taking Emily's spot in the chair, I look to the guilt ridden man. His hardened glare, carrying no weight. There's no hatred in his eyes that is not directed at himself.
He's not even hiding it well. He's torn up inside. Killing himself as far as I can tell.
Just like I did.
The only difference is, I survived.
"You should really take this deal." I say softly.
"And why's that?" He asks bitterly. "Save myself from rotting in a hole? All It'd do is prolong my trip down."
"You should do it, to save others." I say.
"You're gonna ask a villain to save people?" He scoffs before looking away. "Damn, and here I thought I had poor judgement."
Lashing out, deflection, insults. All behaviors of someone without a solid argument, yet refusing to back down.
"How so?" I ask to get a base on which to start.
"I'm an alcoholic sociopath." He says to me. "That should be enough."
"Sociopath's don't turn themselves in." I point out. "It sounds like your looking for a reason to refuse."
"And I have plenty!" He shouts, catching me off guard as he suddenly snaps. "You want to extend the olive branch?! I get that. You're a hero, it's what you do! But, understand that, I just, I don't save people! Even if I agree. All I'll do is fuck up and do more harm than good! How can you trust me!? When I can't trust myself!?"
By the end of his rant, he's huffing and I can see the tears threatening to spill out. He hates himself to the point that he's actively self sabotaging.
'His trigger event!' I have a sudden epiphany.
In a bold move, I take my bandana off. Revealing my face, much to the confusion of the paraplegic man.
"When, when I was a little girl." I start to say. "My, village in Kurdistan was attacked. I listened as soldiers killed my family. Holed up in the cellar, crying as I heard their screams."
I take a deep breath as the memories flood back to me. It seems so, counter to everything I do. I avoid sleep because of how often this just replays in my head.
And here I am, willingly bringing it back up.
"After a while, they were done." I say to get past walking through, the remnants. "And, well. Their were seven of us, all children. And, they needed a way out of the forest. Our fighters has set traps for them in case they ever got too close. And well, they killed the only ones who could lead them out."
"Why are you telling me this?" He asks.
"Only five of us survived after I triggered and my power came to me." I continue. "It was, so easy. They never expected a little girl to just, pull a gun out of nowhere and mow them down. But, afterwards, I couldn't help but think. Why didn't my power come sooner? Why didn't I try to fight them with the rest? If I had fought, instead of hiding in the cellar."
"You can't blame yourself for things you had no control over." He says, as if I don't already know.
"I know that now." I say before looking him directly in the eye. "But do you?"
His eyes widen at my statement. Before setting back to their stony façade.
"My situation's different." He says. "You were a child, I'm an adult-"
"With a faulty break line?" I say, recalling his earlier file.
"I caused, a pileup that killed nearly thirty people." He stresses, his voice threatening to crack the more he speaks. "My choices, got several people killed. And that's not counting the hundreds dead because of my work."
"Lives you can atone for. Work that can help people." I point out.
"Save the offer for someone who deserves it." He says in a low tone.
"Why do you think I'm here? Showing my face?" I ask.
He's silent at that. Preferring to stare at his bedsheets as opposed to looking at me. The somber atmosphere created by the room, filling every moment.
"Why are you scared to do the right thing?" I ask.
"I'm not, I just, I'll fuck up." He says. "Trust me, you don't want me."
"Well, it's a good thing you said not to trust you." I poke at him. "If you can't trust yourself, then at least trust us to keep you in line."
Once again, as is common now. He's silent, preferring the view of the white bedsheets.
After what feels like minutes of silence, though is only a few seconds. He finally speaks up.
"Okay, I accept your offer."
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-1hr later, The Rig-
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"You may take your leave." Emily says as she walks into her office.
"Well, that was boring." Tom, Velocity, says as we both turn around.
"I thought it was a nice change of pace." I say in return as we walk down the grey hall.
"Yeah well, some of us don't like standing around looking pretty all day." He quips back, poorly.
"How would you know?" I ask. "All you did was stand around."
"By the,- Hey!" He calls out in offence.
"I'm just messing with you." I say and give him a tap on the shoulder.
"Yeah, okay." He says as we fall into a brief awkward silence. "So, how did you convince Mechanic to join?"
"With words." I answer simply.
"Really?" He scoffs. "Here I thought you ran a honeypot mission."
"How? He's paralyzed from the waist down." I ask, pushing down my disgust at the insinuation in favor of my curiosity into what mental gymnastics his mind is doing.
"Let him honeypot you?" He suggests weakly.
I stop walking, and Tom mimics me not too long after.
"What?" He asks.
"This is why you're still single." I say as I walk past him.
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-Friday, August 13th, The Rig, 8am-
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Director Emily Piggot POV
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"Thank you for meeting with me Director Mode." I say to the shorter woman in black.
"Please darling it's your work here, just call me Edna." The eccentric older woman says. "If we keep calling each other Director we'll confuse everyone."
Edna is, somewhat like minded to me. We both see the importance of how the perception of the public can effect our jobs. Unlike that bullheaded Ross. But she's a bit, eccentric. And that's me putting nicely.
"But let's not wax poetics sweetie, how've you been?!" She asks with an energetic smile. "Keeping yourself well? I hope so, your health affects your mind and your mind is what's important!" She rambles quickly.
"I'm fine." I say succinctly. Knowing that unless I get this out of the way, we won't get anything done. "And you?"
"Oh you know how it is, new capes new wards new heroes. Urgh! It never ends. The PR appointments, the scheduling, the coaching, it's so stressful!" She continues. "But I've managed to maintain my figure and keep my charges in line. Speaking, of."
Edna is a woman who plays by her own rules. And if you don't play her rules, you'll find yourself losing. Whether that be in law, politics, or a simple conversation.
"Yes, the Parr family." I say. "I've already been briefed and they have their quarters and accommodations."
Despite the relative short timespan of this turf war. It's already hitting a crescendo. Hookwolf is still rampaging. And with Stormfront's, execution, we're expecting opportunistic villains to start making moves soon. The ABB have already been seen moving operations to their border territories, and The Merchants' stance is a complete unknown. And Purity's faction has remained almost completely untouched and unconcerned.
Kitsu's return is expected to slow the rate of escalation. But I'd be a fool to rely on that.
"Very well darling." Edna says as she hops up and heads for the door. "If you need me I'll be asking the capes for the situation."
"I have the full details you know." I press forth in irritation at her antics.
"First hand accounts are always better for painting a picture. Besides, I want to meet the items of importance." She says in a matter of fact tone before shutting the door behind her. Loudly.
Taking a deep breath. I press the button on my intercom to alert Miss Militia of Edna's intention.
Lord knows how much of a headache she can be.
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-Commons room, 8:30am-
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Kitsu POV
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Sitting at the counter in the common rooms in my newly washed Irida outfit. Head resting in my arms out of boredom. At the counter because the stools are the only thing I can sit on unless I wanna lay down on the couch.
You'd think they'd get some open back chairs by now, but no.
Dennis is making a sandwich at the counter. Out of costume and I'll admit I'm staring at his butt. Don't judge! Sophia is on the couch in her costume, just texting. And Assault is in the corner talking on the phone to Battery.
He's being quiet, but that means nothing to me. Turns out they're having kids. Neat. That's another divergence from canon.
Missy's not here today. And I still don't have a phone. I'm wearing a swim cap to keep my ears down and covered while Chris is working on my new hearing aides again. Because apparently the ones The Travelers took got crushed in a trash compactor. Meanwhile the ones he gave to Mom for when I got home had melted in the fire.
Oh yeah, I still have a report to fill out and questions to answer. As of now I'm thinking of how to best phrase, 'I was mentally fucking with my kidnappers and accidentally lost track of time. Oops?'
Yeah, I may just have to straight up lie. Say something like they had more of that knock out gas. Not a complete lie. I saw the pressure pad trap they had rigged up. It'd have been clever, if not for the fact I can freely manipulate my body and don't need to shatter through a block of concrete.
Hella uncomfortable though.
Oh, someone's walking down the hall. Rather fast. If it weren't for how quick their steps were, I'd assume they were running. No, just walking very fast.
*Kcht*
Looking over, I see a shorter woman, maybe five feet tall, with a black dress, black shoes, black circular glasses, and black hair in a bowl cut.
I wonder if she likes black.
"Hmm, one, two, three four." She counts the people in the room. "I expected more, oh well." She says with a shrug as she walks up to me.
"Hmmm." She hums as she stares at my butt! "Ugh, dreadful, just dreadful darling. These colors are amazing but they, ugh, clash with your fur too much. Your stylist should've known this."
Oh, she's staring at my sash and its tail coat, thingies. I never did figure out what these are called.
"Honestly, this could've worked if you were a sand blonde but a strawberry blonde? No no darling you need something a bit more vibrant like a redder pink. Oh so close yet so far." She continues. "Although I will say the sash is an inspired idea. Is it tear away?"
Without waiting for a response. She tugs my sash and nearly yanks me off of my seat.
"Ah!" I squeak in surprise as I scoot back onto the stool. "Hey! Watch it lady!"
"Ugh! I take it back!" She says while rolling her eyes. "It's almost as bad as a cape! My dear you are walking in a safety hazard! Though the stitch work is uncanny. Nevertheless! Why ever would you wear this? Who approved of this?"
"Um-"
"Don't answer that sweetie." She says with a wide smile. "I'll get in touch with my people and have an updated suit for you by the end of the weak."
"I designed this!" I force her to hear. "And what's wrong with the sash! It's no more a hazard than my tail!"
"Hmm?" She says with a squinted look before breaking into her smile again. "Oh! That changes things! You clearly have a talent for design, you just need it refined!"
I stole the designs from memories of an alternate world but, no one needs to know that.
"Here you go dearie, call me when you want to speak of your future." She says as she hands me a silver card.
I take it with a bit of confusion as she moves onto Sophia who's texting on the couch. Ignoring everything.
"What was that about?" Dennis asks as he turns around with a sandwich in hand.
"I'unno." I say with a shrug as I watch the lady look Sophia up and down.
"Ugh, can you scream desperate for attention any louder?" She says.
"Pfft!" I snort at her words.
"Excuse you?" Sophia sneers.
"Sweetie let me tell you, you do not pull off black very well." The lady says dismissively.
"The fuck!?" Sophia says as she gets up.
"No!" The lady snaps at her. "No vulgar language! That is not a tolerable habit!"
"Fuck you you midget bitch!" Sophia shouts down to her.
"Clearly a troubled youth." She says as she turns from her. "Maybe when you choose to be less of a stereotype for edgy teens. I can help you more."
I'm full on laughing at this point as she tears into Sophia's choice of attire.
"Bitch this is for stealth, not looks!" Sophia defends
"Then why the cape darling?" She asks with a tilt of her head while leaning.
"It's a cloak!" Sophia says as she actually stomps her foot. "And it conceals me!"
"Sweetie, darling, honey, it doesn't work." She says with patronizing tsks. "But I can see my critique is not welcome. Sadly there is no helping the helpless."
Sophia is absolutely fuming while I laugh as the woman walks away and heads for Assault. Who looks up from his phone to address the lady.
*Krcht*
Looking over to the doors. I see Missy in her full outfit walking through the sliding door.
"Missy!" I say excitedly as I hop off of the stool and glomp her.
"Oh heavens no!" I hear the lady shout at us.
Opening an eye I see her make an immediate beeline for us. Making her way quickly towards us.
"A dress?" She says incredulously as she pushes me and Missy apart. "Please darling, tell me this at least has ballistic weave."
Like she did with me, she inspects the outfit without Missy getting to say anything.
*Rip*
The dresses hem immediately tears as the lady pulls at it.
"No!" She says as she throws her head up. "I've seen enough! This is outrageously irresponsible and flagrant! To allow such travesties! I shall be having words with Emily immediately!"
Without another word, she quickly walks out of the room. Leaving all of us wondering what the hell she was on.
"The fuck was all that?" Dennis asks. "The head of the fashion police?"
"No!" I shout, turning to point at him. "No such vulgarities young man! It's unbecoming!"
He just stares at me with those deep blue eyes. A flat look as he cocks an eyebrow at me. Clearly not appreciating my antics.
"Was that Director Mode?" Missy asks from behind me.
"Who?" I ask, turning back to her.
"The director of the North West PRT?" Missy clarifies before adding. "Oh, right. You weren't informed of that."
"Nope!" I say cheerfully before leaning towards my girlfriend. "Anyway-"
She puts her hands up and on my shoulders, gently keeping me from leaning in fully.
"As much as, well, I need to go get a change in uniform." She says awkwardly.
"I can go with you." I offer with a wiggle of my eyebrows, her face immediately burning red.
"I uh, you don't, we uh." She struggles, her voice cracking with every stutter.
I just, really want someone to talk to. Or just be around. Mom and Dad are away doing paperwork, Amy is at the hospital with Vicky as a guard. And I'm not allowed off The Rig until everything blows over. Or something, I don't actually know. I was just told not to leave.
"You'd need clearance so-" Missy says.
"So?" I cut her off. "Who'll stop me?"
Missy stares at me for a long while at that. And, I can't help but get the feeling that, something is off. Though, what that is, I'm not sure.
"Kitsu, don't follow me into the changing room." She says before turning around.
"Um, okay?" I say in confusion as she types into the keypad.
She walks back through and leaves me here. Confused and, a little hurt.
"Rough patch?" Dennis asks between bites of his sandwich.
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-1 hr later-
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"Where is she?" I ask with arms slung over the arm of the couch.
"Don't know." Lyra says from behind me as she watches Steve Irwin on the TV.
"How long does it take to change a dress?" I ask as I stare at the door.
"Don't know." Lyra says. "Don't wear'em."
Brutus is currently laying on my legs. Apparently he likes them. Judas is on the floor, and Angelica is on the back of the couch standing guard, facing the door like a gargoyle, giving the occasional growl.
Oh! I hear footsteps!
Two sets, oh. It's not Missy. One has the right gait, but is too heavy. The other is light enough, but the gate is too long.
"Grrrrrrrr!" Angelica starts snarling a few seconds later.
*Krcht*
The door opens to reveal a single boy. Red suit with black accents and spiked back blonde hair. Black visor covering his eyes.
As he walks forward, I hear a second set of footsteps next to him, but I don't see anyone.
So, a stranger. I don't smell them, but I do hear them. They slowly walk their way over to us, and I follow my gaze to the source of the sound. Now in the room, I can hear their heartbeat and breathing.
It stops halfway to us, before walking right, then left. The whole time I'm just moving my gaze to follow.
"Um." I hear a very soft, confused voice utter.
"Yes I know you're there." I say. "So does Lyra, Angelica, Brutus, and Judas."
Brutus pokes his head at that, and I hear Judas give a soft whine. While Angelica gives a swift bark.
"Just drop it Vy." I hear the boy say. "You're not spooking anyone."
"Don't use my real name doofus!" The girl's voice suddenly says as she materializes. She's, about as thin as Amy. Long black hair and fair skin. Her suit is, about as formfitting as the boy's and in a similar style. Red top, armored padding, yellow symbol on the chest, black pants.
"Oh, you're the Incredibles." I say tiredly.
The boy speeds over to lean on the couch next to me. He's about as tall as Missy, little taller.
"Yep!" He says as he runs a hand through his hair. "That's us. I'm Fasttrack, though-"
He doesn't get any further as Angelica snarls at him. Getting up with hackles raised as she barks at him. Spooking him as he snaps his head towards the dog.
"Stop." Lyra commands, and she sits back down.
Looking back to Dash, no, sorry, FastTrack. I blink once before speaking again.
"You didn't see a blonde girl in a green dress on your way here, did you?" I ask.
"No, I don't think so." He says.
He keeps talking, but I'm zoning out as I get lost in my thoughts.
Where is Missy?
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Dashiell "FastTrack" Parr POV
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"So yeah, we're here to help out with your whole city going into chaos." I say proudly to the cute blonde.
"Neat." She responds back as she lays her head down.
She's got these gorgeous blue green eyes, and reddish blonde hair. Great shape from what I can see, she's mostly concealed from the chest down by the couch. A total ten!
The blue cap is a weird fashion choice. Just tossing that out there.
"We actually just got back from a meeting where we were debriefed on everything." I continue. "We'll be staying here at The Rig for next few weeks. If everything isn't settled by then, well. We'll see."
"Hmm, maybe." She says.
She's a bit quiet. But that's fine! Just gotta get her out of her shell! Vy's the same way.
"Hey, if you want, I can talk to a few people and maybe get us on patrol together." I suggest. "I do have three years of experience as a cape. And my dad's the Mr. Incredible. So I can give you a helping hand."
"I'll think about it." She says softly.
'Score!' I cheer in my head.
"Nice, well then."
*Ring*
She flinches at the sound of my phone going off. And, I do a little as well.
"One sec."
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I go ahead and answer it.
"Hello?"
"Dash, we found another speedster you can work with." I hear Mom's voice call out.
"Sweeet!" I cheer. "What's their name?"
"Velocity, he's here in training room one if you want to meet him."
"I'll be right there!" I say before turning to the cute girl. "Hey, catch ya later kay?"
"Okay." She says.
"Nice!" I say before heading out.
It is so rare to find a speedster, so I don't really have anyone to compare notes with. No way am I passing this up!
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Bonus
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Chaotic Ending
Video transcript- A quick look into, Gods of Neo Wavism: Riley/Bonesaw pt. 1
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(The video opens up to reveal a sandy blonde man in a black tee shirt, sharp green eyes, and green scales running up his neck to stop at his cheeks.)
Hey guys! Harold here, and to my newer viewers, yes, my name is weird. My parents wanted a unique name, and gave me one based on some king from before the advent. Moving on.
So, as it stands at the time of this video being uploaded, there are twelve million people in the world. All of different ethnicities and with that, beliefs. The most commonly believed and accepted being, of course. Neo Wavism. As you can tell by the title of the video.
Now, there are many who believe in the Neos Gods. But, as most of us learn in elementary school, the gods take on different roles depending on the narrative and culture. Sometimes to the point of being contradictory.
Most can be easily traced to each other. Two prime examples being Kitsu, who's name remains unchanged in almost every narrative and culture, and Victoria, who you may know as Vicky, Vicks or Antares depending on your culture and beliefs.
Now all the gods are multifaceted. None are perfect and it's widely accepted that while, they are real, they're more, personifications made manifest. They have flaws just as we do, and they make mistakes. As said by Carol herself. "Perfection, is impossible as well as subjective. For something to be truly perfect, it'd have to be perfect by every measure and opinion. And you'll never get everyone to agree on something." A perfect introspection, into how we as a society see the world. What's good to one person, is bad to another.
None of the deities embodies this philosophy of the god's duality more so, than Riley the Prodigy. And I'm willing to wager my left wing that some of you don't even know who that is. Seeing as she's, a bit of a controversial figure and despite being in the religious canon, many cultures will refer to her as her alternate persona, refer to her and her alternate persona as completely separate beings. Or just straight up omit her.
Riley the Prodigy, is also known as Bonesaw the Macabre. Yes, they are the same despite sometimes being taught as separate entities. And that's because they both are and aren't the same. Bare with me here.
Riley is one of the three innovators, alongside Kitsu the Instigator, and Panacea the Supervisor. But before her ascension to divinity, she was one of the Nine Evils, corrupted and twisted from what she was meant to be by the demon of temptation, Jack the Manipulator.
Now, unlike most of the Nine Evils, Riley was not found evil by Jack, Jack took Riley when she was young. And I'm talking, child young, not teen or young adult. Anyways, Jack took Riley and tormented her over nine days and nine nights, forcing her to use her domains of medicine and innovation to keep other victims of his alive. And she did, but while she was tending to one, Jack would injure another. Forcing the fledgling goddess of medicine and cures to leave one and attend to the other, lest they die.
Eventually, Riley broke. Unable to save any of his victims while constantly being so close to doing so. She tired, and eventually, she needed rest. And, his victims died. Thus, when Riley awoke to find those under her care to have passed, she broke. The torment and anguish turning the young goddess into the demented demon of malformity. Bonesaw the Macabre.
Now, every tale and legend of the gods can be broken down and dissected to give insight into the way the world works. And Riley's transformation into Bonesaw is no different.
This particular instance can be paralleled to the recovery process people go through when sick. As disease attacks us, our body works tirelessly to keep us alive while simultaneously fighting off the pathogens and the dangers of improper care. When the body can't go on, when pushed too far, it fails and we die or we ruin ourselves, simple as that.
Listen to your doctor kids.
I could on all day about the significance in every part of this particular story. From Jack taking the form of a disease to Riley representing the body attempting to fight it off, to the culmination of it's failure being a metaphor for how we need to rest and recover while sick. But if I did that for everything here, we'd be here all day.
I will say that because of this legend, there's a belief among many cultures that when a loved one passes while in treatment, it's because Jack pulled Riley from them.
So, moving on, Riley still maintained her holy domains of Medicine, Innovation and Care. You can't just, take those from a god. But at this point they're now twisted beyond all recognition. Her medicines became poisons, her care became torturous, her great mind that was meant to see humanity advance, was now targeted toward seeing its continued suffering. Thus, Bonesaw, designer of disease and puppeteer of plagues was born.
It's a neat duality that is meant to kind of parallel reality, almost one to one. Anti-venom, is made from venom. Just like vaccines are made from modified viruses. So too is the demonic Bonesaw, a tortured and tormented Riley.
Bonesaw is a horrifying evil. Not the least of which being that, she never really considered herself, evil. Even when she was returned to divinity, or turned into a god, some texts aren't clear. She never saw the difference in herself. And likewise some sources don't distinguish the two, ever.
A beautiful, if cruelly accurate representation of the cost of innovation. Now, I don't want to get demonetized so, I won't go into detail about some of the things Bonesaw is responsible for. Your parents should've told you plenty to get you to behave anyway.
Nonetheless, I couldn't call this a real crash course vid if I didn't explore some of what she did, and does. Of which there is, a lot. So much so that it's difficult at times to, parse established religious canon from folk lore exagerations. Not even some clerics are certain. What we can say for sure is that Bonesaw, like the rest of the evils, is sick and twisted. Existing purely to perpetuate the suffering of others.
Kind of like my ex. Aye! Had to get the joke in somewhere.
Bonesaw takes a childish glee their work. Seeing all of their creations, good and bad, as works of art. Regardless of any suffering they may cause. Sometimes going so far as to see the suffering as part of their art. During the age lost, Bonesaw traveled with the Nine Evils as their youngest and, arguably most deranged.
I only say arguably because you can't really compare one form of the demented, to another. They're all bad, just different kinds of bad.
Some of the things she's known for are viruses, infections, defects, diseases, poisons, everything medically bad, is usually attributed to Bonesaw.
During this time, she followed and obeyed the Manipulator with the eagerness of a child, desperate to please their parent. Jack had warped the young goddess so much, that she was unrecognizable. It was only when she was removed from his influence when he challenged the other Neos gods and paid for it, that she managed to regain some semblance of her original divine nature. Another parallel to health, though this time it's mental health. Sometimes it's difficult to see the damage that people around you are doing, until you step away. After all, you never realize just how deep in the mud you've sunk, until you try to get out.
Now before we move forward to her time as Riley and her clergy, I got bills. So todays sponsor-
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Kitsu POV
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I sigh as I skip past the ad.
"You modify a few thousand people before the apocalypse and they decide to make a religion out of you and your family." I sigh to myself. "At least they're some weird cult that's sexualizing me. Anymore at least."
I'd reveal myself for the lols but, I've learned over the centuries that doing so on a massive scale, never ends well. Better to just fuck with the occasional sceptic.
I'm just glad society is mostly the same as it was.
To be continued
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Bonus 2
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Good ending
Missy's guest appearance
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Missy "Vista" Dallon POV
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"And now we have a special guest!" Kitsu says to the computer camera like she's on a talk show. "Can you guess who it is?"
It takes a few seconds, but eventually that robotic voice shows up. Showing that, she literally just earned money, by talking.
"Is it your mother? Ba dum tis."
"Nope!" She says. "It's my wifey, Missy!"
Rolling my eyes, I walk over and sit down in the adjacent chair.
Looking at the screen, I see it's just her stream being played back to her on one monitor, another monitor with her viewer metrics, and the chat on the other.
"Hey." I say with a wave as one of the mics lowers itself. Likely Kitsu using her illusions to adjust the equipment.
"Hello best chair." The robotic voice acts up before saying. "I was close."
"Hey!" Kitsu says. "Be nice. Any inappropriate commenters will be banned!"
Before anything else can be said.
"How inappropriate are we talking? Less, or more than the time you groped her before declaring you were ending your stream early to get lucky?"
I lean back and groan at that. I forgot about that. When she got upset at everyone saying she could do better than me.
"Keep it classy." Kitsu says with a huff.
It should be noted that her chair is higher than mine. Making it look like we're the same height.
"So, what do I do here?" I ask with a shrug.
"Answer any questions that make it past the mods." Kitsu says. "And give me scratches."
I roll my eyes and oblige.
"So Missy, is Kitsu your pet?"
"Hey!/Pretty much." Kitsu and I say at the same time.
Kitsu looks to me with a glare. And I lean in and whisper.
"Consider this revenge for the last one." I say quietly. "Just be glad I didn't mention the collar."
She goes wide eyed and blushes for a brief moment before it fades. Turning silently back to the camera.
"I may have made a serious error in judgement."
"Oh no. She's learning."
I burst out laughing at that. Enjoying my chance to embarrass her for a change.
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-30 minutes later-
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"I once had to lock our bank account when she tried to buy Games Workshop." I say as I lazily spin back and forth in the chair.
Kitsu had delegated herself to laying face first on the couch in the backroom. Head propped on a pillow.
"Games Workshop? Who dat?"
"Oh Snuggle bug!" I call back with a shit eating grin.
"Mrrrrrrmmmmm!" She groans into the cushion.
"Wanna say why you nearly bankrupt us trying to buy a company?" I ask her.
"Rrrrmmm!"
"Grumpy fox go ger."
"Her requests, for a space fox faction to be added to added to Warhammer forty K was refused." I inform. "So she thought buying the company would get her her OC's."
"They have space wolves! It's not too much of a leap in logic!" She throws her head up to shout.
We're rich, but we're not that rich. She does have stocks in the company. But it's a big company.
"I feel like there are steps you can take before buying out the company."
"There are." I agree. "She didn't think of it."
This is fun!
"Hey, how tall are you? I've noticed you and Kitsu sat at the same height but your arms are longer."
"Hmm, oh I'm five foot, five and a half inches." I answer.
The chat goes berserk with lines for a few seconds, faster than I can really keep track.
"Wait, we all know Kitsu is a shortstack so how tall is she really?"
"Don't answer that!" Kitsu says, suddenly up and very alert.
"I won't." I say as I get a devious idea.
I wait for Kitsu to lay back down and continue grumbling inti the pillow. Then warp the distance between her and me.
Not giving her time to react, I get up hook my arms under her armpits and hoist her up. It's not that difficult seeing as she's under a hundred pounds.
I then warp the desk to be further away, showing me holding Kitsu like a large cat. Her legs dangling as she pouts in my arms.
"Short queen"
"Tiny fox"
"OMG, so cute"
"Baby fox girl"
"Grumpy fox mode, activated"
"I will get you back for this." Kitsu grumbles in my arms.
'Oh I know.' I think mischievously.
Prank wars are always fun.
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A/N
And thus, we will start the return to silly and fluffy slice of life!
Time to get back to our roots!
Trouble with Missy
Carol is conflicted
Dash is hitting on Kitsu
Chaos is still ramping up now that Stormfront is gone, and thus others will try to take her territory.
And so, so much more that I just couldn't fit into this chapter.
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I know that in Miss Militia's backstory, she used a silenced gun to quietly take the soldiers out.
That's dumb.
To those who still don't know, a silencer reduces sound, but does not eliminate it. On an open battlefield or for a sniper, they're great!
But in close range? Not as much. You can still hear a silenced gun from about 60 feet, to as far away as 200 feet depending.
Unless the group of soldiers was very spread out. All the silencer would do is add weight to the gun.
So, I have that she gunned them down while they were caught off guard.
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In the Good Ending, The Brockton Games were never a thing.
And here, Kratos was killed by Stormfront, in the Good Ending, He was killed by Cocytus. Someone who is not yet, and depending on future events, never will show up.
There are some elements that will be present in the true ending. But what those are, is anyone's guess.
That's why I'm introducing the Chaotic Good ending. More what if's and what could be's.
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As always, leave a comment and tell me what you think! It helps me write and gives me ideas moving forward. I especially love it when you guys speculate or make guesses as I do use them. And even when I don't, they still give me ideas.
Find in newb's-grotto at the discord!
Link to the discord: discord. gg/DarkWolfShiro