AN: I'm still alive. The short version is that juggling my new job and school just didn't leave me much time to write. Or...anything, really, which started becoming problematic pretty quick. I ended up having to quit because I began falling behind on my studies almost immediately, and it didn't seem like there was any way I'd be able to reconcile my two sets of responsibilities and get myself in fighting shape for finals. The upside is that I apparently made a good enough impression that my supervisor told me to let her know when I was done with school, and then we'd take another crack at it. And she apparently felt strongly enough to send me an email later on, reiterating that same offer in writing. So all in all, that worked out a lot better than it could have.
In the meantime, I'm scrambling to get caught up on my school stuff, but now I have the flexibility to do things like write again. I wanted to jump back into one of my more popular stories, but I was feeling a little rusty, and I'd had this little idea bouncing around in my head for a bit. So I decided I'd write this first as a way of shaking some of that rust off. I also made a teeny bit more headway on the next chapter of Stupor, so that will definitely be coming out at some point.
Guest: This is actually one of my rare stories where nobody is a superhero. The Acesverse is just kinda weird in general, which was part of the joke. But yeah, one of the things that have always bugged me a little about the original batch of sin kids, at least, was that it seemed like a lot of them were designed from the standpoint of being the daughter of their mother, if that makes any sense. Essentially, IMO, the classic sinkids have too little Lincoln in them, other than some superficial physical characteristics. So something I wanted to try and do here was to characterize Lacy as someone who'd been raised by Lynn and Lincoln, and took after both of them to some extent. I had fun with it, and from the sound of things, it seems like you guys did too, so mission accomplished.
Fadingspace710: It's not that I don't like sinkids stuff per se(latin). I haven't kept up with the scene in years, so I don't know if anything is currently being done with them beyond the odd bit of artwork that occasionally makes its way onto my Twitter feed, but the issue I generally ran into is that sinkids content typically doesn't focus on what I find interesting about the concept. Which is exploring how the Louds' family dynamic changes with the introduction of the next generation of Louds (and assorted adjacent characters). Basically, I want to see the Louds and their kids doing stuff together (but not that kind of stuff). Which does exist, I've already spoken at length about things like UnderratedHero's story, Consolation Prize, and Catspeaker's take on Without Sin, two of my favorite stories on the subject. But it seems like most sinkids content tends to focus solely on the kids themselves, more or less having them replace the Louds wholesale. And I just don't find that to be all that interesting.
But I'm glad you enjoyed what I did with Lacy here, because I certainly enjoyed writing the now two chapters of this story. I wouldn't mind writing more in the future, but that'll depend on whether inspiration strikes again.
Cookie Warlord: Lynn was bound to mellow out at least a little after growing up and becoming a mom. But not too much.
Honestly, no clue what I'm doing with this in the future. The story was supposed to be a one-and-done, borne almost entirely from my noticing that I was the only person in my social circle who'd never done a sinkids-type story, and also wanting to experiment with recharacterizing Lacy as I explained above. And it worked, and it was fun. I wouldn't mind doing more, but whether I make them their own stories, or I just add them to this one will depend on the nature of any future stories I come up with. We'll just have to see.
No matter what adversity you might face, your family will always be there for you. Those were words that Lincoln Loud had always lived by, and his belief in that maxim had only grown stronger as he'd grown older and his family had dramatically expanded that some might describe as "decidedly non-euclidean". No matter what problems arose, the Louds would always rally and support each other, through thick and thin.
"EEEEEEEEK!"
...Which is why it came as a surprise to the current Loud patriarch, that upon entering the kitchen, his daughter's immediate response was to turn his way, and shriek in abject terror. To be fair, there was a dash of...irregularity to the proceedings. Whereas Lincoln would normally be attired in an orange shirt of some variety (because when a Loud found a style of dress that worked for them, they stuck to it, dammit!), on this occasion he was sporting a thin layer of orange clothing fibers that were draped around his shoulders, a mockery of the function a traditional shirt would normally provide, which had the unwanted effect of leaving his upper body exposed to the elements. Which, at the moment, consisted of his child's shrieking. But it still felt like a bit of an overreaction.
"M-MOM!" Lacy screamed, pointing one trembling finger at her father, her eyes wide with fear. "DADDY...DADDY HASN'T BEEN DOING HIS CRUNCHES!"
Lincoln's shoulders drooped ever so slightly as he self-consciously placed on hand on his stomach. Then he looked to his wife, who was currently leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a morning cup of coffee, the mug doing nothing to hide the enormous, bemused smile she was sporting, which stretched all the way to her freckles.
"I designed a perfectly good workout routine for you," Said Lynn, as she snickered into her coffee. "You're the one who won't stick to it."
"I make comic books for a living, and half the family inherited Dad's cooking skills." Lincoln retorted. "You should be happy I can even walk!"
"I'm happy you can walk!" Called a voice from the dining room. Frowning in puzzlement, Lincoln stepped past his terror-stricken daughter, and poked his head through the doorway, catching a glimpse of cyan-streaked, blonde hair as he did so.
"And for the record," Sam continued, flashing Lincoln a smile as she raised her own cup of coffee at him, "I'm definitely enjoying the view."
A kaleidoscope of feelings rushed through Lincoln. Unsure which he should subscribe to, he settled for awkwardly adjusting his makeshift shawl. Sam's tongue flitted across her lips, and Lincoln felt his cheeks begin to heat up, ever so slightly.
"Go home, Sam." Lynn said as she joined the pair, shooting an annoyed look at the blonde.
"I live here!"
"Guys? Please?" Lincoln implored his paramours, jerking his head back towards the incredibly impressionable daughter who was still in the kitchen, watching this mild bit of family drama play out.
"...Fine," Lynn grumbled, rolling her eyes. She turned to Lincoln and jabbed him in the chest with one finger. "So then how about you explain how this happened."
"Lisa asked me to...test...one of her inventions," Lincoln admitted, reluctantly.
"You should have said 'no'." Observed Lynn. "Or maybe even he—"
Lynn stumbled over her words as she caught sight of her daughter, still staring at them with rapt attention.
"...heck no." She finished, lamely, before turning her attention back to Lincoln. "You of all people know that's just asking for trouble."
"She asked really nicely."
"What a surprise."
"No, you don't understand," Lincoln protested, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "She asked...really...nicely."
Lynn took a moment to consider her husband's words. Then she raised one hand, and flicked one finger against his forehead. Hard.
"You know, other guys might be able to use that as an excuse," She said, glowering at her still-reeling, pale-haired partner. "But with all the kids we've got running around here, you could stand to cut back a bit."
"...Fair enough," Lincoln admitted, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "Anyway, it was some kind of...Auto-Tronic...Dressamaton, or something. Its supposed to put your clothes on for you. But, as you can see, it kind of just did the...opposite."
"And it did a really bad job too," Sam opined, who was suddenly at Lincoln's side. The blonde reached for some of the clothing fibers that still clung to Lincoln and examined them, rubbing the threads between her fingers as she did so.
"Very sloppy work," She continued, eyeing the fibers with distaste. "You're supposed to tear along the stitches, not against them. We figured that out at your sixteenth birthday party."
"Why were you tearing Daddy's shirt, Aunt Sam?"
The three adults exchanged glances as the youngest Loud in the room decided to join the conversation.
"Rehearsing a play," Said Lincoln.
"Shirt fire," Supplied Lynn.
"Medical examination," Sam added. She smirked at Lincoln. "And your dad passed with flying colors."
"...Okay," Lacy said with a nod, seemingly taking the explanation at face value as she walked away, and out the back door soon after, mercifully leaving the adults to their own devices.
"I keep telling you to cool it with the jokes while the kids are around, Sharp," Lynn hissed, her voice barely audible, even at such close proximity.
"And I keep telling you, it's Loud," Sam replied, holding up both hands and waggling her ring fingers, drawing special attention to the gold band that adorned each one. "And it has been for a while now!"
"Girls, please!" Lincoln implored them, placing one hand on each of their shoulders. The Loud women turned to him, Lynn in particular looking like an angry retort loaded up. But her eyes flickered downward for the briefest of moments, and strangely, that seemed to mollify her.
"...Fine," She said her tone mercifully level, "So your shirt got shredded. Why didn't you just put on a new one?"
"Because, turns out, it can move," Lincoln said, shaking his head in frustration. "And after it got a taste for...cloth, I guess, it just kept on going. I got out as quick as I could and locked the door behind me."
"And it's...still up there?" Sam asked. "Still...rampaging?"
Lincoln winced. "Not a bad word, from the sound of things. But...yeah, that's about the size of it."
He looked to Lynn, whose arms were now crossed over her chest. "I was kinda hoping Lynn could give me a hand with this."
"Me?" Lynn asked, arching one eyebrow. "What are you expecting me to—"
She trailed off as Lincoln slid his hand down along her arm, and gave her bicep an affectionate squeeze.
"Ah," Lynn nodded in understanding. "You want that kind of help."
"It is your strong suit." Said Lincoln, smiling hopefully at his wife. "Kind of literally, actually. Remember? I got inspired to write that Robot Riot issue after Lisa hired you to...uh, 'decommission' that robot factory of hers."
"That one could have used more Card Sharp," Sam opined.
"You say that about every issue, hon," Lincoln replied, his eyes quickly flicking toward the rocker before he resumed his focus on Lynn."
"Because its always true!"
"I," Lynn interjected, a smirk settling onto her face. "Might be able to help you. Buuuuuut...you're going to follow protocol."
"There's a protocol for this?" Sam asked. But Lincoln's attention remained firmly on his sister.
"...Please, Lynn," Said Lincoln, making every effort to say the words with as much severity and gravitas as he could muster. "Please...help me to defeat the evil robot."
To his relief, Lynn let out a satisfied sigh, and stepped closer. "Well, how can I refuse a request like that?" She asked, rhetorically, as she leaned in and briefly pressed her lips to Lincoln's.
"I'll stomp twice when I'm done," She said, patting him affectionately on the cheek, before she stepped past him, and began to make her way upstairs.
"Don't forget your end of the deal!" She called out as she jogged out of sight.
"I won't," Lincoln said to himself. He lingered a moment longer, just in case any...irregularities cropped up, but a familiar battle cry resounding from upstairs told him that everything was going to plan. Which meant, now it was time to do his part.
"Where are you going, Linc?" Sam asked him as he headed back into the kitchen.
"To make a couple of ice packs," He called back to her, wincing ever so slightly. "Lynn always has some...extra energy to work off, after a fight."
"Oooooh. Fun."
Lincoln set about his task, but it wasn't long before he felt Sam's arms encircling his midsection.
"So," She said, conversationally, her breath brushing pleasantly against his ear. "Ever have any rock and roll-related emergencies?"