Reply to menmato uzumaki: The third of General Blackwater's most trusted captain has his own chapter in Project Powerpuff: Declassified. He's in Chapter 79: Mercy. He might turn up again though in this story.
Reply to Guest: Selicia actually saw Buttercup's killings as the lesser of two evils. She thought that it's no different from how she and her security pals had to kill from time to time. As for torture, needless violence, and drugs? Well, we'll have to see, don't we? And thanks for sharing that part about the yeast injections. I've always thought that the Girls could never age. They never did on screen, and the reboot shows them to be in grade school and acting like tweens without aging. I guess they're so perfect as little girls that they'd never go beyond that. Anyway, it fits in remarkably well with the science behind this fanfic, so I decided to adopt the idea. Or did I? We'll see.
Chapter 27: Red (Part 1)
The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.
13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 0935.
"Miss Keane, is it ever right to do something wrong?" Bubbles asked as she sat before her teacher's desk, for some reason unable to look at her. "To help people?"
"Can you give me an example?" Miss Keane replied, looking up from the report cards she'd been scribbling on.
"I don't want to say…" Bubbles said secretively, her eyes flitting to Miss Keane's, only to look away when the teacher tried to make eye contact with her.
"You don't have to if you don't want to. I understand," the teacher replied gently with carefully enunciated words, setting an example as she always did. "Well, it really depends, doesn't it? You've been fighting crime. You should know that sometimes, to save innocent lives, you'll have to hurt someone or even..."
Miss Keane had fallen silent. The idea of advocating violence with children didn't sit well with her. She had yet to come to terms with her employment under the USDO, and how it had turned her life topsy-turvy.
"But how do I know when to do it?" Bubbles asked as she continued looking down at her lap, playing with her fingers, always afraid that something could go wrong, even though there was no chance of it. Sweat was streaking across her face, despite the temperature in the room - the heater was set to a comfortable range. She was dying to use the fairy godmother's magic ever since getting them, not just for the edge it gave her in combat, but for the intense pleasure as well, and it was the only thing that could ever make her forget her worries. At the same time, she was afraid that, somehow, Miss Keane or someone in class would find out about it. She could acutely feel Blossom and Buttercup's eyes down her back even though, in reality, they were laughing with their classmates and concentrating on their own art and craft.
"If you find yourself being forced to do something bad, you're not wrong," Miss Keane revealed. "You'll know it when you have no other choice."
No other choice. Bubbles thought hard about it. Did she have a choice? Could she decide between whether to use His Secret 2.0 or not? Bubbles thought that she didn't. If she forgoes the drug, she knew she would be useless in crime-fighting, especially in Buttercup's eyes. She could try fighting without the drug, but she knew she would end up messing up and then Blossom would be mad at her. She would be alone again, unwanted and cast out. Furthermore, the magic was incredibly… enticing. She knew the first time she took it that she had to have more of it. Now, to be without it was torture. The world was terrifying and dull at the same time when she was unaffected by the dark, red liquid. Surely it wasn't wrong to escape this pain and fear and boredom? They'd do it all the time with toys and TV and puppet shows.
Buttercup, in the meantime, had lost all interest in making paper frogs. No amount of jumping fake frogs made of flimsy colored paper could make her forget. For days, she had been distracted by either fun or fighting or both. But now that both of them was gone and replaced by school activities, there was time enough for her to think. And remember. And brood.
She couldn't help but to feel she had lost everything. When Bubbles had fallen out with Blossom, she had an opportunity to get on Blossom's good side and 'change' her to become more like her. She was hoping that by the time she was done with her, she would be able to openly maim and kill, and even get Blossom to join in too. But now, it was no longer a possibility. Bubbles had somehow gained an edge and now she was in her glorious leader sister's good books once again. Predictably, Blossom had gone back to playing with dolls and holding tea parties. Everything she had done for days was gone in a matter of hours.
But that wasn't even the worst part. That night after Mullens had yelled at them and brought them home in his smelly little car, Daddy had blamed her for Blossom's mistake. Before this, she had been nothing but willing to forget about the things her Dad had said whenever he thought she wasn't listening, but now, she found that she couldn't help but to bear a grudge against her Dad, not just for misjudging her but also for everything he did – talking behind her back and calling her all sorts of names (even though she didn't know what most of them meant) when he thought she was out of earshot, always choosing her to go first whenever there was a test or experiment to run – favoring Blossom and Bubbles over her! That last bit had been most unforgivable. She suspected that everything had something to do with her being the least loved.
Buttercup hadn't forgotten any of the wrongs her Dad had done to her, owing to her photographic memory, second only to Blossom's. And it'd started right when she was born. Her very name, 'Buttercup', had been chosen only because it started with a 'B'. And when she brought it up, all he did was to find an excuse for his wrongdoing and add a new meaning to it as an afterthought, saying that it was the name of a beautiful flower. And she hated flowers! Her room had been painted and furnished with Blossom's favorite color in mind – which was another unforgivable fact. The color of the room had never failed to remind her that she was second to Blossom, and even third with Bubbles in the picture.
No, Buttercup hadn't forgiven her Dad. Forgiveness wasn't something that came easily to her, if ever. Although she never really loved her Daddy in the same way that non-psychopaths would, she had thought of him as someone important to her and their interactions and relationship, such as they were, were meaningful and beneficial to her nonetheless. With his recent actions, it now felt less so.
On that night after Bubbles' undercover mission in The Strip, Dad had come down on her hard.
'You should have defended your sister!' he'd yelled at her in front of everyone and told her to go to his room, essentially isolating her and grounding her. He'd left her in his room for something like half an hour before he finally deigned to see her. And for what? They argued after that. Buttercup could still remember the argument right down to the tone her father used, and she did not appreciate how he'd yelled at her one bit.
'I am very disappointed in you, Buttercup,' he'd said the moment he entered the room.
'But Dad!' she had objected only to be so rudely cut off.
'No buts! Remember what I told you on your very first day?' her Dad had gone on. 'That out there, as long as the three of you stay together, you'll always have a family?'
'Bubbles isn't the kind of sister I want. I wish I have a sister who's more like me,' Buttercup remembered clearly what she said - she thought she could be honest. She thought it was what her Dad wanted. Instead, he'd turned into something else.
'Now you listen here, young lady!' Dad had yelled at her again the moment he heard her. 'You don't get to choose your family! What you have is what you get - instead of pushing her away, you should help her find herself instead. She looks up to you! As a… a role model! And you're disappointing her!'
Buttercup remembered that she was extremely annoyed with her Dad for lecturing her. Who was he to tell her what to do when he was never there? He was never the one who had to fight crime, and sometimes struggle to survive and get injured anyway, sometimes severely enough in the process that she had to roll around like an idiot in a stupid wheelchair. She remembered letting him know exactly what she thought, and it made Dad really, really mad. She couldn't understand why he would be since she was just telling the truth.
'What do you know, Dad? All you ever do is walk around the house and play in the lab,' Buttercup had said. 'You're worse than Bubbles. At least she'll get shot by the bad guys instead of me.'
'No more desserts for you, Buttercup!' he'd declared her punishment upon hearing with disbelief what she had said to him. 'You're not getting supper either until you apologize to Bubbles and me!'
What she hated most was that she did eventually apologize, not because she wanted to, but because she wanted her desserts and supper back. Missing a few of them had made her cranky. She hated that she had to come crawling back to him, in tears, before he relented, and she hated that she had to apologize to Bubbles even though she knew that she was clearly wrong to have broken her cover while they were searching for her in The Strip. She hated that she had to pretend that she was wrong - something she had to keep doing until forever.
And now, she was uncertain about the future of her relationship with her Dad.
The City of Townsville. Central District. Above City Hall.
13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1521.
School had been uneventful; the hotline there hadn't been ringing, much to Blossom and Bubbles' relief, and Buttercup's annoyance. The former Girls needed the peace and quiet and routine, but Buttercup wanted to hurt and kill in secret and to escape her own mind by participating in some USDO-sanctioned chaos.
It had been over an hour since they started their daily patrol across the Townsville sky, and there hadn't been any real crime committed. Buttercup was becoming increasingly impatient, and to add salt to the wound, Blossom and Bubbles were chatting between each other happily, unaware of her need - not that she would want them to know. Bubbles had swiftly reasserted her position as Blossom's 'favorite', leaving her out once more.
The only thing of note was the street robber they apprehended for snatching a woman's handbag, but Blossom had stolen what tiny little fun there could have been by being the one to punch the criminal out.
Bubbles, on the other hand, had no choice but to get used to the fact that she would have to pretend as if everything was normal for the rest of the foreseeable future. She'd been chatting with Blossom and putting on her most convincing smile ever, yet all the while, she'd been carrying the fairy godmother's magic in a couple of her magazine pouches, and she could feel them in there since. She could feel her skin burning where she had kept them, and the intense desire to just take one out and jab herself with it.
Passing by the City Hall, they waved at Mayor Wilford and Miss Bellum, who happened to be standing at the balcony outside the mayor's office.
"This is Flight Control Four to Bravo-Four-Seven, over," the Girls' radio came alive once more with the voice of a woman, stern and almost robotic. Buttercup's heart leaped with excitement at the prospect of a possible mission, and with it, the chance to hunt for prey, and kill behind Blossom's back. Bubbles couldn't help but be excited either, as it meant an opportunity to use her syringe of His Secret 2.0.
"Hi, Miss Flight Control Four, how can we help you?" Blossom replied on the radio.
"Bravo-Four-Seven, there is an operation requiring your participation. The police and USDO are waiting for you," the flight control officer stated. "Adjust heading by thirty-five degrees to the right, and continue straight to a large group of police officers and USDO soldiers near a farm. Fly low. They will signal for you. Over and out."
"We're going to a farm?" Bubbles said, genuinely interested in the idea. She had never been to one, even though she had heard about it in Dad's stories, whether real or fictional.
"I wish we could do it without fighting crime," Blossom added. "But crime does not sleep."
"I wonder who do we get to pound this time?" Buttercup asked. Each of them had their own guesses. With the current climate of crime, there was no telling what they would end up fighting - But Blossom was optimistic. With Buttercup's new laser beam and Bubbles' BerXerker frenzy, she felt that the three of them were ready for anything.
The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Towards Cult of His Arm Compound.
13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1536.
The USDO had been meticulous in maneuvering the Girls towards the operation that needed them. Multiple flight control towers had reminded them of their heading and helped adjust their flight path whenever they strayed.
Where they had landed, the police and USDO were hushed and staying low, as if children in a room full of boogie men. Where they were, the trees were stripped of even dead leaves, even snow. They shot up from the ground like the hands of the dead. The moment the Girls were there, they knew that they weren't on friendly grounds.
They were met by Detective Mullens, along with Stanley Talker. Someone was missing.
"Hey Mister Mullens, where's Olivia?" Blossom asked while the detective was pulling a shotgun out of the trunk of his car and loading it with shells.
"She's pursuing a different lead this time," the detective answered after pumping his shotgun. "Besides, I can't have her here. It's too dangerous."
"Who are we kicking today, Mister Mullens?" Buttercup asked as he was stuffing his pockets full of shotgun shells.
"You gals remember those red-robed cultists? The ones who messed you three up in the cineplex?" the detective explained as he shut his car trunk and rested his shotgun on his shoulder. He stretched his shoulders for a bit, and cracks rippled throughout his body. "Yeah, it's them. The Cult of His Arm. They're partly responsible for all the crazy drugs strewn around Townsville. We're going to their compound to haul 'em all in and search their place."
Bubbles had fallen silent. The mere mention of drugs had brought about a mixed reaction in her. It'd reminded her of the tough spot she was in - choosing between a clear conscience and performance in combat for the sake of her sisters. It'd also gotten her wondering if she could 'borrow' a few syringes from the cultists.
"I don't mind a little revenge…" Buttercup snarled dangerously as she grinned - some of them did shoot her during the Battle at Silver Age Cineplex, even if one of them allowed her to rip him apart. She was hoping that there were more volunteers.
"Revenge is bad, Buttercup," Blossom lectured her sister quickly before turning to Detective Mullens again: "Do you want us to sneak in and fight first?" Behind her, Buttercup glared at her as if she'd been slapped in the face.
The detective had intended to lead his police officers off but paused at the thought.
"No. We're doing things differently for now. We're going to make a show of force - we roll up to their compound like an army with humvees, with the four of you next to me," the detective explained, including Stanley Talker into the conversation. "It shouldn't end up like the last time at The Strip since it's going to be the five of us - and an army."
Detective Mullens was thinking back to the last time he tried to arrest a large group of criminals without firing a single bullet. It was at The Strip, and he'd tried it with the Girls, still very inexperienced, by his side. He had hoped then that his reputation, combined with the underground's knowledge of the Girls' lethal nature, would get the Lombardi gangsters to come quietly.
It didn't work, and it ended with the Highway 13 Incident in which the Girls had accidentally caused a series of pile-ups on the highway, resulting in over 60 injured. The Girls were hated for it, and it took multiple feats of heroism during the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs for the city to forgive them - and even then, there were still people holding grudges against them. He himself was shot multiple times in the arm and had to be off-duty for way too many days, and even when he dragged himself out of the hospital bed, he'd done so before he was fully recovered, and had gone back to duty with a single arm.
He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. His reputation had been tarnished - and now he was deadly in the eyes of Townsville's criminals once more. The Girls were inexperienced then - and now they could hold their own. He had no backup then - and now he had an entire army at his disposal. And Stanley Talker, of course.
The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Cult of His Arm Compound.
13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1549.
Detective Mullens had ordered the operation to start, and now he was marching along with his army of police officers and USDO personnel - Agent Blake wasn't with them today, as he was needed elsewhere. Together, they followed the road into a dirt path. The farm could be seen in the distance, with its manor on top of a little knoll. A windmill was spinning with the wind, rickety and looking worn from both weather and age, lending an air of Gothic foreboding to the scenery.
"Ri don't rike the srell…" Stanley Talker remarked as they approached the farm. "Reminds re rof the men from the sewers and cinera. Reeks rof drugs!"
"Stay close, boy," Detective Mullens said. "We might need your help if all hell breaks loose."
Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been walking beside him too, opposite Stanley Talker. Blossom enjoyed walking once in a while, feeling the unique ground beneath her feet. She loved peaceful moments like these, before the inevitable chaos. Bubbles was just trying to get her mind off the possible upcoming battle, and the terrible thing she must do to contribute. Buttercup was shaking with anticipation.
"Mister Mullens?" Bubbles suddenly said as she came up next to the detective and held his hand.
"What is it, Bubs?"
"Do you ever think about the bad things you have to do to help people?" Bubbles asked. By experience alone, Mullens knew that Bubbles was suffering from guilt - though he could only guess the cause of it. However, he thought it was her recent killing of a cultist in the Silver Age Cineplex that might have something to do with it - Bubbles wasn't like Buttercup, who enjoyed killing.
"Sometimes," Detective Mullens finally answered, though with so many decades of bad memories to drudge through, some a blur while others clear, some quite vivid, it took him time. "Whenever I'm at home, putting on a game show or movie. Not so much these days, you know why?"
"Why?" Bubbles was eager to know what he was about to say - she was still unsure about the fairy godmother's magic.
"Because I know what I'm doing is right. It don't matter if I killed a few criminals here and there - I'll bring most of them in. Either way, they won't be causing trouble for a while - at least until a corrupt judge reduces their sentence," the detective said, reminiscing. "That means people who would have become victims won't be. Yeah, I can sleep with that."
Bubbles thought it was eye-opening, too. She thought Miss Keane and Detective Mullens were right, and supportive of her drug use even though they didn't know about it. She believed she had no choice, and if the drug could help her, was it truly wrong to use it? Still, being a very emotional creature, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive about it. The wrongness of it all was unshakable. She wished that the walk to the cult compound would be over quickly as she felt that it was hard to contain herself.