Carlyle saw Lydia Buchanan for the first time was when Harmony brought her to his apartment around the time she was recruited as her sidekick, back when the two of them were just colleagues working to keep each other alive. She had been extraordinarily nervous and wouldn't meet his eye. However, all Harmony could do was talk the girl up, preaching about how much potential she had, which only made the girl more reluctant to speak. After that, they'd met on a few occasions, usually when Harmony came to him for help or information. As the two grew closer, his soon to be wife had told him about her protégé's tendency for violence when provoked. Even Axel, the only one of Harmony's sidekicks who trusted him, had brought up his misgivings towards his senior colleague, likening her fury to that of a cornered animal. It wasn't until their fifth meeting, nearly two years after their first, that Lydia had said more than two words to him.
"Why does Teardrop always come to you? Info brokers are no better than Villains."
He hadn't been able to answer her at the time. It was a question he'd been asking himself for many years. His silence only seemed to fuel her disapproval of him. After that, Lydia's attitude towards him became colder and colder, having adopted the very same look of disgust and loathing that he had become accustomed to getting from other Pro Heroes. It got to the point that she even refused to accompany Harmony when she came to him for help. Harmony had seemed quite off-put by the gradual turn but never tried to confront the girl about it.
It wasn't until years later that he saw the woman in person again, though that was a day he'd much rather forget.
Now, nearly a decade later, it was almost impossible to compare the woman before him to her younger self. She still wore the same rotten look in her eyes, but this woman was broken and angry, a dangerous combination for a Villain. "Lydia. It's been some time."
"I was told not to approach you… I've never disobeyed my master before," Vesuvius said threateningly, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. When she turned and sat on the edge of a large fountain, he could see her whiskey-colored eyes burning with hatred. Carlyle's body tensed up, his mind instinctively screaming at him to run. "Being here, where Teardrop first scouted me, seeing you, seeing the child has brought up so many memories and feelings I thought I'd burned a long time ago."
"If you so much as breathe on Melody, I will personally wring your neck and throw your body in a trash compactor." It appeared as if Carlyle wasn't the only one shocked by his words as Vesuvius took a step back, though she quickly regained her composure. Even with the slightly nostalgic tone of her voice and her fairly relaxed posture, he could see in her eyes just how close she was to snapping.
"I'd love to see a Quirkless old fool such as yourself try," she replied haughtily. Then, to Carlyle's surprise, she smiled softly. "Besides… I like her. I see quite a bit of myself in her, or rather… in who she'll become. She has such a capacity for good; it's too bad her Quirk will bring nothing but despair. It's sad. If she, or anyone else for that matter, were to find out about her true heritage… she'd be a pariah, an outcast. Her career as a Hero would be over before it began."
"Speaking from experience?" Carlyle shot back, silently cursing himself for his inability to hold his tongue. Shockingly, Vesuvius didn't look at all bothered by his jab. She just kept smiling, running one of her hands along the surface of the water, which steamed at her touch. "If you brought me out here to kill me, you'd have done it by now. So then, why?"
"What? Can I not pull aside an old friend to catch up after so many years?" She asked innocently, though the glare she was receiving from her 'old friend' told her that her act wasn't very well received. "My, still no sense of humor. Fine, if you must know, I've come to scout out the students participating in the festival and report back on any irregularities. However, old memories began crawling out of the woodworks the moment I arrived. First, I met your lovely daughter, and then I saw my… well, after that, I met up with dear old Richard, and finally, I saw you, and I knew what I had to do."
"That still leaves the question of why you would approach me when it's clearly against your master's orders, whoever that may be." Vesuvius glanced away, her smiling dropping. Suddenly, the already intense heat that had been emanating from her body seemed to jump into overdrive. It was so potent that it forced Carlyle to take a step back as his clothing and skin began to singe and smoke. When she looked back at him, he saw it. Her face, the same face she wore as she killed the love of his life. The same face that stared back at him in madness, knowing he could only stare back and watch as Harmony's eyes lost their light.
"How could I not? Heh, you're the one who ruined everything. You took my life away from me. How could I not want to see you again? To remind me why I've been doing all of these awful things, why I was so cruelly cast out from society. All these years, you've been so complacent in your little world, raising that monster. I wanted to see the look on your face personally when you realized that everything you've done to protect her is about to come crashing down," Vesuvius spat, a deranged look in her eyes. "Can you imagine how shocked they were when I told them I knew where his granddaughter was? They will come for her, and once her secret gets out, we'll welcome her with open arms!"
"You've gone insane, Lydia."
"I no longer look at the world through a veil. Mankind is sick, Plague intends to cure it and when the dust settles… I'll be free." Vesuvius said softly, once again surprising Carlyle with her immediate shift in tone and, seemingly, personality. Slowly, his hand began to creep behind his back, his narrowed eyes looking wearily at the woman before him. In his head, his mind was reeling over the entire situation, and, as much as he wanted to refute the words against his daughter, he couldn't deny having similar thoughts before. He'd spent many sleepless nights thinking about how the world would react to Melody, whether they'd accept her with open arms or cast her out due to things out of her control. 'Think. Even if she only brought me out here to… talk, she's given away more than Rat could ever hope to find. She's unhinged, but if I could keep her talking…'
"You think this path will set you free? Even if your master's scheme prevails, there's no escaping your past. I know that better than anyone." He'd let a little sincerity creep into his voice, which appeared to catch the woman off guard. Her brow wrinkled in confusion briefly before her face became overcast.
"Let the past die. That's the only path to peace," the woman said stiffly as if the words were not her own. When she began repeating the phrase 'let the past die' under her breath, Carlyle's hand subconsciously drifted closer and closer to the waistband of his pants, where, hidden beneath his shirt, lay the cold, metal object that had been jabbing into his back all morning. He watched, every muscle in his body tensing, as a single, sizzling drop of magma rolled down the side of her face and fell to the ground, setting a small patch of grass ablaze. Once Vesuvius took a step forward, he ripped his shirt out from his waistband and whipped his arm back around, a small revolver clasped tightly in his hand.
However, he couldn't even manage to cock the gun. In a flash, the air was quite literally ripped from his lungs. The gun fell from his grasp as his hands shot to his throat, which convulsed with every attempted breath. He silently cursed himself for being so focused on his enemy that he hadn't paid attention to his surroundings. Vesuvius flinched slightly at this new development and took another step forward, her hand reaching out but stopped and pulled back as another woman appeared out of the corner of Carlyle's eye. The woman had thick brown hair and walked past him with a look of satisfaction in her cold blue eyes, the flaring of her nostrils indicating that whatever had happened to him did not affect the newcomer. "Ves, you've gone against orders. Again."
Negative Pressure
East Division: Rank Two
"Amy. You're supposed to be watching the juniors," Vesuvius said, eyeing her suspiciously. The woman shrugged, seemingly unaware of the choking man behind her, whose face had begun to turn a faint shade of blue.
"Thought I felt a heatwave. So this is the one then? I must say, he looks absolutely precious all blue in the face," she said, ignoring the weathering glare she received from Vesuvius. With a predatory look in her eyes, she strolled up to Carlyle's kneeling form and reached down to caress his cheek. Quicker than she could anticipate, the man's arm shot up and clamped around her wrist, squeezing tight enough to make her yelp in pain. Despite having been unable to breathe for nearly a full minute now, Amelia saw defiance in his purple face. Even as his grip loosened, he fixed her with a loathing glare. "Interesting. Even with the effect of my Quirk, he still resists. I can see the reason for your obsession, Ves. I would adore having the chance to break his spirit myself. To see that fire go out would be incredible."
"Hands off, Negative. Take his weapon and let him breathe, he's no good to me dead." The ice in Vesuvius' voice was back as she glared at the two of them. Negative Pressure frowned and shot the woman a scalding look before snatching up the revolver and taking a few paces back. As soon as he was able (signaled by Negative snapping her fingers), Carlyle took long, greedy breaths, trying to get some life back into him.
"In any case, we should probably head back there soon. Prophet may throw a hissy fit once he finds out that we left early but your contact can fill in the gaps. Let's go get the rest of the girls…" Negative trailed off when she began walking away while Vesuvius gave no sign of following her. After a moment of silence, the latter's eyes still locked on Carlyle's gasping form, Negative rolled her eyes and continued walking back towards the four coliseums. "Or I'll go get the rest of the girl. Say your piece and meet us back at base."
"Thank you." Vesuvius barely spared her subordinate a glance as the woman vanished around a corner. Throughout the entire time Negative had been present, Carlyle never once saw Vesuvius' eyes look away from him. When she spoke again, her voice was cold and laced with hate. "Everything you've built will burn. Your family, your business, your network, all of it. Then, you might understand what I lost."
He never said a word in response, not when Vesuvius started walking towards him, nor when her heel caught the side of his head, and not when she gave him one last resentful look and disappeared, causing the area's temperature to cool immensely. After several long, breathless moments, Carlyle seemed to come to his senses and pulled out his cellphone. It only rang once before a gruff sounding voice (most likely still annoyed at his son's loss) picked up. "Axel, Lydia was here."
"... I'll contact my sister. She should be able to track her movements in the city. Probably a good opportunity to get Rat the hell out of there as well, can't imagine his cover will last much longer. I… your time's almost up Carlyle. You have to tell her. Soon."
"After the tournament. I don't want to burden her now." While Axel didn't sound exactly pleased by this, he let the matter drop, and the two men exchanged what little information they had before finally hanging up. Even as he walked back to the stand, there was a feeling of dread deep in Carlyle's stomach.
Vesuvius. His constant nightmare. The woman who'd nearly destroyed Hero Society from within. Her betrayal had forever changed so many lives. He knew she was crazy, but he couldn't get her words out of his head. 'She's wrong. Even if the whole world turns their backs on Melly, she won't join them. The target on her back is just going to get bigger, but she has friends that can help her through it all. She will become a Hero.'
Incredibly, Anthony had not burned down the stand, though, by the sheer mass of needles littering the floor and the black bags under his eyes, Carlyle suspected he'd used his Quirk to keep up with the line. For once, he decided to go easy on the boy and sent him on break. As he fell back into a rhythm, his mind focused on only one thing. Repeating over and over like a broken record. 'Please let me be right.'
Purpose of a Hero
"Electric Misery!" Alexander roared, firing off a short burst of electricity towards his opponent, whose expression hardened as he slipped into the pool of shadow beneath his feet. With a grunt of annoyance, he discharged the spent Core and pulled another from his belt. Just as he'd done for the entire fight, the Shadow user popped back up in a completely different spot, breathing heavily at how much Alex had forced him to use his Quirk. Damien had no idea what had happened to Alexander over the fifteen hours since his last fight, but his fighting style had changed entirely. In his past matches, at least from what Oliver had observed, he was patient and analytical in his attacks. Choosing which Core worked best with each of his enemies. Now, however, he was attacking blindly — slinging attack after attack seemingly no forethought. Fire, lightning, ice, poison, water, they all came randomly with no sense of strategy, no cohesion.
He supposed his foe could just be trying to wear him down, but if that were the case, he could almost guarantee that the Alexander from yesterday would have been using primarily electricity or fire-based Cores to cut down on his shadows. As soon as his opponent began reloading again, Damien thrust his arms forward, and a flurry of black tendrils rose from the ground before shooting at him like arrows. Surprisingly, the boy didn't dodge. Instead, he threw up his arms, and many of the arrows aimed at his upper body bounced harmlessly off of his metal appendages, while his undefended legs and lower torso were sliced right through his costume.
Barely reacting to his new wounds, Alexander raised his arms and shot twin blasts of pressurized water that tore great trenches in the dirt battlefield after passing harmlessly over his enemy's shadow. As his body became engulfed in icy blackness, Damien willed his shadow across the field at a rapid pace until it was just behind Alex, Oliver's advice ringing in his ears.
"Close the distance while he reloads, you may suck at close quarters combat, but if you let range dictate the fight, you'll just lose," he'd said a few moments after Oddball's slot machine match decided their match. Now, Damien was starting to see the truth in his former partner's words, even if he hadn't accounted for Alexander's increased brutality.
Unfortunately, it seemed as if Oliver had been right about another thing; he was far too predictable. Right after he emerged from the shadows behind his enemy, Alexander whipped around and swept him off his feet before he could attempt anything. While in mid-air, his body started melting away into shadow just in time to negate another blast of poisonous gas. As he re-emerged several meters away, Damien felt a sharp pain in his chest and swore under his breath. 'I need an opening soon, or I won't have enough energy to Shadow Step and immobilize him. Even if I win, at this rate, I won't be at full strength by the time of my next fight. Wait for him to reload again and get close. It's the only chance I—' Damien's thoughts were abruptly cut short as a feminine voice, far too high pitched to be Ms. Whittacker, screamed over the crowd.
"HEY IDIOT!" All at once, the annoyance that had been building in Alexander throughout the fight reached its peak and he whirled to face his equally irate-looking sister. How she'd managed to get past Castor and Pollux and into the preparation room, let alone the tunnel, was beyond him. "GET YOUR HEAD OUTTA YOUR ASS AND TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY! ALEXANDER VICTOR BLACKWOOD DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!"
"In the middle of something," Alexander shot back. This seemingly did nothing to dissuade Eris, however, as she began banging on the iron bars with what looked to be her radius bone.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Where's the badass that took down freakin' Lyon yesterday? When I said to lighten up last night, I did not mean just to be a raging asshole to everyone!" The girl ranted, making her brother grit his teeth and try to focus on reloading his hand cannons. The process was made even more complicated when the black bone came soaring through the air and landed at his feet, which immediately drew a reprimand from Ms. Whittaker for interfering in the match. However, Eris didn't seem to care. "Stop throwing a tantrum and fight like you're in the final eight, you moron!"
"Well, this is quite, uh, irregular. Don't worry folks. We'll have this sorted out in a moment," Holl said, immediately followed by a loud sigh from his co-commentator.
"Ah, young love."
"When this is over, I'll explain everything wrong with what you just said, but for now, Castor, Pollux, please remove her from the prep tunnel." Their teacher sounded absolutely exhausted as he spoke. As if they'd been waiting to be summoned, the school's two caretakers appeared behind Eris and grabbed ahold of her arms. Surprisingly, the girl didn't fight back, instead choosing to glare daggers at her brother before she was finally pulled out of sight. It was only after she was gone that Alexander realized their sibling squabble had an audience, and he fought to keep his face from turning red with embarrassment. He shook his head, trying to stop his thoughts from running rampant, and twisted back around to face his opponent, only to be met by an empty field. His gaze flittered across the ground, looking for the telltale black circle that had betrayed Damien's position every time he'd sunken into the shadows.
Suddenly, a violent chill slithered down his spine, and he spun around just as Damien's palm collided with his chest. Still slightly surprised, Alexander reacted quickly and slammed his hand cannon into the side of his foe's face like a club, sending him falling on his back. In the few seconds it took for the boy, now sporting a cut on his cheek, to stand Alexander loaded his cannons and turned them on Damien. For the first time during the fight, he didn't immediately sink into the ground to avoid the attack. As soon as the torrent of flames neared him, the shadow-user leaped to the side. However, he wasn't quite able to avoid the brunt of the fire and cried out as his leg was caught in the blast, setting his pant leg aflame.
Alexander, still wary of Damien's apparent failed sneak attack, reached down to grab another set of Cores from his supply when his adversary, ignoring the fire still licking at his calf, held up one hand and clenched it into a fist. Instantly, Alexander felt his body erupt in icy numbness, his limbs freezing and his breath slowing. His eyes went wide and he pulled against the invisible strings that seemed to be holding his body in place and while Damien appeared to flinch at the struggling, the bonds held fast. 'Not again!' his mind was racing, trying to will his arms or legs to move. He tried to open his mouth to shout obscenities but found even his jaw seemed wired shut. "It's done! He can't move."
Alexander tried to refute this, to make some sort of indication to the approaching Ms. Whittaker that he wasn't done, that he could still fight. The woman walked right up to him, examining his baleful stare, and proceeded to poke him in the forehead. Even with the confused din of the crowd, he could hear Damien grunt at the contact. The referee took in his frozen form for another tense moment before she gave him an apologetic look and raised her arm. "Metal Hydra is unable to continue; therefore, the winner of this match and moving on to the semi-finals is Erebus!"
It had happened again, he'd been frozen by his opponent, left immobile. The only difference is that this time he'd left his opponent with enough strength to stand. After his staredown with Andi, he'd lamented the fact that he only won because she had collapsed. Now, the result he'd felt should have happened in his last match had, by random chance, presented itself. He didn't deserve to win his previous match, so why did losing this one make him feel even worse?
Purpose of a Hero
"Oh, ~ how exciting! Our next match will be between Elisnore and Rubberband! Competitors, you have ten minutes to prepare, but then I want to see some blood!" Sirius glanced up nervously as the ceiling above his head shook violently with the crowd's enthusiasm following Oddball's eccentric announcement. It had only been an hour since Melody had left him alone in the room but in his mind, it felt like an eternity. He still couldn't understand how she'd not only been excited to go up against one of the best in their entire year but had actually beaten him. Now here he was, about to do the same, and he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. From what he'd seen, Payton was just as, if not more powerful than Nathan was, despite their respective rankings, and his Quirk was a near-perfect counter for Epiphany's. Just the thought of his closest (figuratively and literally) friend made his chest hurt. Ever since that morning, she had been uncharacteristically quiet, barely saying anything as Sirius drowned in his nerves.
'I know you're there… please, just say something. I can't do this alone,' Sirius thought, hating how desperate he sounded even in his mind. There was a quick flicker of… something, an emotion he couldn't quite identify, from the entity, but she remained silent. He let his head fall into his hands and groaned. Then, out of nowhere, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him close. It was a familiar gesture, and though it now had none of the physical warmth, it once did it was still slightly comforting. Epiphany sighed heavily and slung her arm over his shoulder before shooting him an annoyed glare.
"You're pathetic," she said casually as if she were stating a fact rather than insulting him. Sirius couldn't find it in himself to disagree, which only seemed to annoy her even more. "Cut the pity party. You worrying and making yourself sick is making me sick. Now come on, snap out of it. We aren't dead in the water yet."
"We're going up against one of the top five students in our year. It'll be a miracle if we even last five minutes against him," Sirius replied miserably. Even without meeting her eyes, he could tell she wanted him to continue, despite already knowing his each and every thought. "We're obviously the weakest link left. Oliver might be ranked lower than us, but he's smart. If anyone has a chance of beating Clara, it'd be him. Plus, everyone knows our secret by now. 'Just go for Sirius, and you get an easy win'!"
"And what about last round? You were amazing against Kenny, and you didn't even fall on your face for once! We're in the final eight, Sirius. We didn't make it this far on luck."
"No, we made it this far because Clara saved our butts in the first match and had to take on Narruk and his wolf in the next one. Without her, we'd have lost in round one. We're screwed against Payton!" He exclaimed, once again hanging his head and sounding close to tears. At this point, Epiphany smacked her partner on the back of his head and stood up, huffing angrily.
"So what? Who cares if he's stronger than us? In fact, that's a good thing! He's probably thinking the same thing you are. That just means he'll never see us coming!" When her enthusiasm was met with yet another mournful silence and a barrage of self-pitying thoughts, she frowned and sat on the ground right in front of Sirius, so even with his head hung she could look him directly in the eye. When she spoke, her tone was much softer than usual. "Look, you know that I know better than anyone how it is to feel useless, like all the hope in the world is dried up… Sirius, it doesn't matter if we win or lose this. It doesn't matter that Clara saved our asses in the first two rounds, and it doesn't matter what Payton throws at us. Even if we lose, we're going out guns blazing."
Purpose of a Hero
Alright, sorry for the wait. We're nearing the end now folks, only 4 more chapters for the tournament. Get excited.
Been a while since I had a long AN (I know most of you don't read them but meh) but I just have to mention the final season of Clone Wars. Everyone who knows me in real life and who is on the discord already knows my opinion but I'm too hyped about it not to say it again. This is the best Star Wars anything since Rogue One. The tension in episode 11 was amazing (music was phenomenal), the duel in 10 was jaw-dropping and 9 was amazing as well.
Also, finally started reading fanfics again after nearly a year of being either too busy or too lazy and there are a few that have me waiting eagerly every week for an update. This also serves to make me feel bad about leaving you all in the dark for multiple weeks. If you're still reading this story and aren't in the discord I would highly recommend joining, it's the best way to get into direct contact with me and it's a fun community. Just shoot me a PM or Email if you're interested.
Huge thanks to Hiatus for beta-ing as per usual.
ALSO: Last chapters Q&A has been changed from Kira to Andi since I already did Kira a while ago and forgot like a moron.
Alright, I think that's enough out of me. I'll try and get another chapter out next week but as my word usually means fuck-all, we'll just have to wait and see.
Next time on the Purpose of a Hero:
Chapter 43: The Rise of Sirius
Q&A, Featuring Andrew Abrams
To Andrew: Who is best girl?
Andrew: What do you mean by best girl?
To Andrew: Did you dye your hair or is that natural?
Andrew: I mean my hair color is brown so... yes it's natural
To Andrew: What's your favorite kind of music?
Andrew: anything that is before the 1990s is my favorite, 1990s-2000 I like/tolerate, don't play modern music around me
To Andrew: Which classmates quirk would best compliment your own in a fight?
Andrew: I'd say either Melody's or Narruk
To Andrew: Any fashion tips?
Andrew: Trust me I am the wrong person to ask
To Andrew: Would you start a cult revolving around yourself?
Andrew: No, I mean what would even be the point.
To Andrew: Are there any hobbies or skills you would like to pick up in your 4 years besides heroics?
Andrew: I would actually like to know a little more about science because of the nature of my quirk, but other than that not much
To Andrew: What would you do for a Klondike bar?
Andrew: I mean I don't know because I have never had one, if I did I mean I could just break the vending machine, which I would never do, ever.
To Andrew: Are you a D&D fan?
Andrew: Yes while I have never been in a campaign I would very much like to be in one, in fact, I have 2 characters made and I am in the middle of my 3rd
To Andrew: technically you're able to surf anywhere, even at a public pool right?
Andrew: I mean, maybe I don't know I have never even tried to do that maybe? I feel like it would be more than a hassle than it's worth
To Andrew: Can you also decrease the gravity of things? Can you apply negative gravity effects?
Andrew: Yes for the first question, and close on the second
To Andrew: Have you ever studied the moon's gravitational pull and how to copy that?
Andrew: I have actually never even thought of that, it would definitely be something I could experiment with however there is only so much I can do without actually going there, the moon I mean.
To Andrew: Oh? You're approaching me? Instead of running away, you're coming to me?
Andrew: I can't beat the shit out of you without getting closer.
To Andrew: How do you feel about the Japanese killer stain and his ideals?
Andrew: ...while I don't necessarily think he's wrong... I mean there are tons of heroes who are doing it only for money and fame...but his methods for dealing with corrupt heroes are way too extreme... in my opinion, as long as they aren't doing anything illegal or immoral I think it's fine that heroes who do it for fame and money are left alone... but when that line is crossed something should definitely be done about it... but that something shouldn't be as extreme as outright killing them... I, however, to be fair... I also believe in fates worse than death.