A/N
I couldn't think of anything clever :P
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This one took a bit longer because I had MASSIVE writers block this week.
Honestly not sure about this chapter, but eh, they can't all be gems like sleepy Kitsu chapter.
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Raphielle: thanks, how I write is I get bouts of inspiration and see a scene in my head. Kinda like how Tinkers get in Worm. What I then do is write around those scenes, basically I get the middle, and have to come up with the beginning and end on my own. The hard part is not just rushing to scenes.
DancingLeaf: She already has in a previous chapter, she couldn't absorb much because her power absorbs, not siphons. When Purity is in her breaker state the light she emits on her body is condensed and only as powerful as strong fluorescing lights.
The BEAMS however, oooooooooo boi!
T4ndoris: YOU BROKE THE KNOB! It was only supposed to go to ten! In all seriousness the Dallons issues stemmed from complacency, they were all so used to their own issues that they became desensitized to them. Kitsu showing up had added a factor that brought attention to their flaws.
Casanova5424: It's WORM. The same series that introduced Battery and Assault, told us their backstory got us attached to them, only to kill off Battery in the slowest, painfullest way possible.
You're forgiven for assuming it'd be dark.
Just consider that Dennis was killed by a little girl, revived by said girl. Showing that death is not the end when she's involved. He then found he had to share a class with her. Then after begging her to heal his dad, is FORCED to go on a date with her when he REALLY did not want to. And on said date, just when he thought all was good, she started turning possessive and at one point was about to gouge out a piece of his shoulder to mark him as hers while he was trapped unable to do anything. Had he used his power to freeze her and the ferris wheel started it would've either broken the wheel or snapped the cabin off the hinges as Kitsu would have stayed in place as the wheel moved. At which point he was either stuck worse, or about to crash.
That sounds pretty fucking dark.
Fake-Rob: It really is a shame that other fanfics don't use him more often. Every other fic I've read either doesn't mention him much, or he's just kinda there, like, "This is a character that exists. Yes. Moving on."
RadChaos897: I have a Very active imagination. And this is an outlet for that. I can't really think of a way to describe how I can write characters so well. I can but it would take a while.
Sophia is stated as someone who actively hates anyone she can't take in a fight. So you can see where that goes.
It has been stated in canon that Amy already saw Carol as a mother in canon, she just didn't feel like Carol saw her as a daughter. It's why she tries so hard to be a good person. All she wants is her approval. And when she disfigured Vicky, she broke down, begging Carol to tell her what to do. Calling her mom the whole time.
It just sucks that she got sent to the birdcage and The Marquis got ahold of her. Carol even lamented that "Right when I finally realized she was my daughter, he gets her back." And later states. "In the span of a week, I realized I had two daughters, and had just lost them both."
Amy calling Carol by her name is one part attention seeking behavior, one part teenage rebellion, one part her slowly disconnecting, and one part her saying she knows Carol never wanted her..
Cy4nide: Thanks, Kitsu is just a naturally chaotic person.
Gogmazios: Which is a shame. I feel like Missy has more potential to her character than is shown.
Akiralator: Kitsu can absorb heat, yes. However she cannot turn down anything of her own, only enhance. She passively absorbs heat, and if she didn't her body temp would rise higher than 101. It's just that 102 f, roughly 39 c, is the threshold of heat where her power recognizes it and absorbs it back in.
She can't absorb light, not unless it's concentrated enough. Kitsus' absorption is mostly passive and things under a certain level simply won't get absorbed. For example, punch her and she'll absorb the kinetic force, but the wind will just hit her like normal.
That would be hilarious, but to allow that I'd have to retcon a lot of scenes to account it.
She'll probably still find a way around it.
Sarah2Cold: I really didn't plan for a redemption arc for Carol, it sort of just, happened. I'm glad with how it's turning out though.
Shadow Stalker can move through most solid material so long as it is below a certain level of thickness, so phasing through the street into the sewers wouldn't work.
That being said she could totally phase through a manhole cover and I am upset I didn't think of that. All the smells in the sewer would have Kitsu saying "Nope! Maybe next time."
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From now on I'm only responding to comments on the latest chapter.
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Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or any other characters in this work, other than my OC. All other characters belong to their respective properties.
-Date, Time-
'Thoughts'
"Speech"
[Shard]
(Text)
*Sounds/Actions*
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-Wednesday April 7th 7:30am-
-Dallon House-
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Kitsu POV
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Sitting at the table and munching away at my pop tart. Toasted of course.
I'm wearing my Korina outfit again, it's cute and functional, and I didn't feel in the mood for anything in particular today, so I settled on this.
Vicky is finishing up her hair and Amy is just sitting across from me, staring at her coffee. She hasn't even taken a sip yet.
"You okay?" I ask.
She doesn't respond.
I make a visual illusion of a miniature me pop out of her coffee.
"PanPan!" It shouts in a squeaky voice.
"What the fuck?!" She shouts, knocking the coffee across the table.
I speed out of the way, not because it's hot or anything, but I don't want to ruin these clothes.
We stare at each other for a bit.
"I'm not cleaning that." I say.
"You!" She starts before stopping with a sigh.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She says grumpily and gets up to get a paper towel from the counter.
"You see, the thing is, I just don't believe that." I say accusingly.
"Sounds like a personal problem, you should really fix it." She says, ripping a handful off the roll.
"Maybe you could help by explaining why you're acting so weird." I counter sweetly.
"Sorry, not in helpful mood right now." She says.
Enhancing my speed, I grab the paper towels and clean the coffee spill, then wipe it all down again with wet paper towels and then dry it. Throwing them in the trash I rush back to her.
"How about now?" I ask.
She stares for a second before turning back to the counter.
"Nope." She says and grabs another cup from the cabinet.
"Oh come on!" I whine.
Sitting down in the other chair I contemplate what to do as Vicky walks in wearing her standard teen spirit get up.
Amy pours herself another cup while Vicky throws some bread in the toaster.
As I'm thinking Amy and Vicky sit down.
"So what happened?" Vicky asks. "Heard a bit of shouting."
"Amy's acting weird." I say.
"Rat." Amy says between sips of coffee.
"With your knowledge of biology, I'd assume you'd know I was a fox." I snark back.
"I'd need a team of specialists to figure out what you are." She shoots back.
I beam a smile, leaning forward and resting my head in my hands.
"I'm just that special." I say cheerfully.
There's a bit of a pause as she stares. Sips her coffee. Smacks her lips and then continues.
"Yeah, no. That's too easy, I'm not going there." She says and gets up.
I furrow my brow in confusion.
"What?" I ask in confusion.
"Don't worry about it." Vicky says as she eats her toast.
"Well now I really wanna know!"
Seriously, I don't get it.
"Come on Kitsu, we don't want to be late." Amy says, putting her cup in the sink.
"Answer me human female!" I shout at them.
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-Gym class-
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Kitsu POV
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We're playing basketball.
I was playing basketball.
I tried enhancing my speed to just above everyone else, but coach Hussman called me out.
Yeah, I didn't use any of my powers last time so he knows about my actual capabilities and that I can turn the speed and strength off.
So here I am arguing with him.
"Then what's the point of me being here?" I ask with a huff.
"To keep you physically fit and give you a healthy respect for exercise." He says in the way only a teacher who's said the same thing to hundreds of kids before can.
"My biology doesn't allowme to become unfit!" I retort.
"Then it'll help you become naturally stronger and build up your endurance." He retorts. Crossing his arms and looking down at me.
"My body doesn't allow for that either!" I say with crack in my voice at the exasperation.
"How?" He asks in that 'oh really' tone.
"I can't be hurt, right?" I say, talking to him like the idiot he is.
"I've noticed, and your file did mention such." He says.
"How are muscles built?" I say and cross my arms at him.
"By straining and tear-" He starts reciting before stopping as realization hits him.
"Muscles are built up by straining and damaging the muscles fiber. After which the body repairs and replaces said fibers, fusing old ones and placing new ones on top. Since the requirement for this process to begin is to damage muscles, and I-" I start to explain.
"I get it." He stops me with a raised hand, before placing said hand to the bridge of his nose. "Just go sit with Victoria on the bleachers."
And thus ended my involvement in just about every exercise in P.E. from that day on.
Delegated down to Vicky's bench buddy.
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Chem class saw me paired up with Chris. Oddly enough.
I didn't mind too much, he's smart and understands most of what's said. However.
He's very distractible.
"And that's the interesting thing about them, we still don't know just how they keep from electrocuting themselves." He rambles off.
"Chris?" I say.
"Yeah?"
"We were talking about molar conversion." I say plainly. "Don't get me wrong, the process by which electric eels produce electricity is interesting. But time and place."
I don't even remember what led to that.
He blushes and looks back to his paper.
He keeps staring at it, doodling at the sides of the numbers with a frustrated look. Seeing him get more and more frustrated I decide to see what's going on.
I take his sheet from him, look at it and notice what's going on.
All the numbers he wrote are in the wrong spots, and he's mixing multiplication with addition as well as confusing powers with multiplication. He wrote seven to the second power as fourteen.
At least I think that's a four.
"Um, can I have that-" He starts nervously, but I put a finger up to stop him.
I'm seeing where this is going wrong.
They gave a basic chem sheet to a kid with dyscalculia.
I put the sheet down and go over to the teachers' desk, he's currently talking to a kid who's confused about the conversion of liters to moles.
I grab one of the extra sheets and a few pieces of spare paper while the teacher just cocks an eyebrow.
Making my way back to our spot I sit back down with Chris and hand him his new paper.
"Um, what is?"
"Shush, I'm helping you."
Enhancing my mind to think faster I proceed.
While we were talking, and he was on task, Chris was getting the answers correct. He just had to take a minute and talk it out. But by the time he finished talking through a question he had moved on to the next without writing anything down, and that was assuming he didn't start daydreaming and straying off topic.
Looking back between the two sheets I keep writing out the problems on the page, only I'm phrasing them as word problems. Not an easy feat with the problems mentioning Avogadro's number. But the trick is to not use any numbers directly. Instead of saying ten times eight. Say something more concrete and easy to visualize, something you can draw. Like, if there is a tiny octopus on each of your fingers, thumb included, how many tentacles are there?
Bad example. But you get the idea.
'Honestly, why did he sign up for chemistry?'
After going through the problems and getting a minor headache from concentration, I hand him the paper with the spare sheet I wrote.
I effectively just spent an hour to rephrase every one of the eight questions. In two minutes.
"What are you-"
I grab his head and turn it towards the paper I wrote and drew on.
"Go." I say, tapping a pencil to the first problem.
"What?"
"Do it!" I say and shove the pencil into his hand.
All my patience has been expended.
"OKAY! Jeeze." He says as he starts, tracing the lines I wrote and mumbling out what he's reading.
After about another ten minutes he wrote out the answers on the worksheet.
To make sure he didn't get confused about which problem was which, I marked over the numbers and put shapes instead. Problem 1 on the worksheet has a triangle marked over the 1 and goes to the page with a triangle in the corner.
His handwriting is still atrocious though. Like seriously, his two looks like an s trying to be a z, only halfway through said "fuck it, I'll be an upside down five!"
He looks between the two and then back to me with a look of surprise.
"How did you?"
"Alright class turn in your sheets and head out."
I just stick my tongue out at him while I grab my things.
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Art class!
Nothing of note.
I drew Ezio Auditore. I wanted to draw Connor Kenway, but I couldn't find any references online.
Wanna know the fun part about enhanced perception? Not speed, just enhancing my ability to process images faster and respond accordingly.
I can draw nearly twenty times as fast as a normal person. With no deficits.
So while everyone was starting projects and had basic sketches by the end of class, mine was finished.
Mr. Callies had put two and two together and figured I was using my speed to finish the drawing while he wasn't looking and told me that so long as I actually try in his class, he didn't care.
He was wrong about the enhanced speed, but I like him more now.
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Making my way to lunch and turning invisible to mess with the others again, hopefully Eric.
Making my way over and ignoring all the smells I am now getting. I stop as I see the familiar mop of red hair.
Someone I'd been intentionally ignoring.
Dennis.
I just stand there, thinking.
'I could- no. Maybe we- no. How- no.'
I, really, can't bring myself to face him right now. Amy and Vicky I had no choice, I live with them. And I was going to ghost Vista, but I sorta froze on the spot and she just up said she was willing to forgive and forget.
'That turned out well! Maybe I can patch things up with Dennis?' I think and start walking again.
Then turn around and walk out of the cafeteria.
Give it more time.
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-Dallon House 12:15 pm-
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Mark "Flashbang" Dallon POV
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Staring at the little girl eating her leftover pizza at the kitchen table, I can't help but be a little confused.
I had just gotten the back yard mowed when I came in to see what else needed to be done around the house, and came up with nothing. Ever since I've been taking my medicine regularly, I've just been that much more productive. Normally I'd still have a full list of things to do still at this time.
Looking to Kitsu and then to my watch, I see it's only about twelve twenty.
"Hey kiddo, doesn't school let out at twelve thirty on Wednesdays?" I ask.
She shrugs before answering.
"The last half-hour is just lunch. I decided to just come home." She says, finishing her pizza.
'I'm not buying that.'
"Any particular reason?" I ask.
She looks away, ears flat and tail wrapping around her waist as she hugs it.
"Dennis." She says quietly.
Okay, that's fair.
Getting an idea of how to handle this I pick her up, cradle her in my arms and start making my way to the living room.
"What are we doing? This isn't the part where you drag me to Dennis's house to sort out our issues under the pretense of getting ice cream is it?" She says accusingly.
I will never know how her mind works. Though that's probably for the best.
"I was just taking us to the living room." I say with a small laugh. "Beside if I wanted to trick you like that, I'd say we were leaving for pizza."
She stays quiet the rest of the way there.
Setting her down on the middle of the three-seat couch and taking the seat next to her, I grab the remote.
She lays down on her side as expected, putting the throw pillow under her head. It's either that or she'll lean in an awkward position because of her tail.
Or grab a pillow and bunch it up behind her upper back.
'Should we get special chair for her? Maybe for her, when is her birthday?'
"Hey sweetie, when would you say your birthday is?" I ask.
"May ninth, why?"
"Just curious." I say dismissively.
'One month away, I'll let Carol know.'
I put on Hell's Kitchen, knowing she likes Gordon Ramsay.
"Why don't you tell me about your day? Take your mind off things." I say.
She looks up at me, then lays her head back down into her arms on the pillow.
"Well, Amy was acting weird this morning." She starts.
"Weird how?" I ask.
"She looked distracted and was just staring at her coffee." She says then gives a cute little snort. "I scared her with an illusion of a mini me popping out of her cup." She continues, giggling to herself. Her tail slapping the couch cushions behind her.
'Must've been over last night.'
"How did that end?" I ask, knowing the likely answer.
She stops giggling and her ears splay back.
"She, uh, threw the coffee across the table in surprise." She mumbles quietly.
I can see her trying not to smile.
"What else happened?"
"Well, I got kicked from ever playing games in gym class again." She says plainly.
'What?!'
"Excuse me?" I ask in confusion.
'There had better be a good reason for that, or an earful will be the least of that coaches worries.' I think protectively.
"Well, I was using my powers. Hussman called me out on it, and we got into an argument."
"What about?"
"He said it wasn't fair to the others, I said there was no point to me playing otherwise considering, well, I have zero natural athletic ability. He said that I should still try, and that it'll help me stay healthy." She explains.
I see where this is going now.
"I brought up the fact that I can't be unhealthy, and that since I can't be injured, and therefore can't grow muscle." She finishes.
"I get it now." I say.
We sit in silence for a bit after that. Then Kitsu gets up and crawls into my lap to sit on my thigh, head resting against my chest. Not too unlike how she was with Carol yesterday.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She nods her head, and her tail curls around my arm.
"Yeah, I, just like being close." She says softly and begins to rub her head against my chest.
I pick her up, turn her around so that her back is against my arm, which resting on the arm of the couch. Crossing one leg over my knee to cradle her and keep from squishing the base of her tail.
I'm doing this to avoid the issue Carol got with numb legs.
"This better?" I ask.
She looks up at me with wide eyes and smiles. Nuzzling into my shoulder.
"Yes." She says in a quiet, happy voice.
She continues to nuzzle into me as her tail wraps itself around my leg. Hooking under my knee and coming back up to rest in her lap.
"Carols lap is still better though." She says.
I gasp in mock offense.
"And here we were, having a moment. And you go and bring up other people?" I say jokingly.
"I'm sorry, but hers is just softer and comfortable." She says with zero shame and sticks her tongue out at me.
I sigh in defeat.
"You're not wrong, she has just the right level squishiness."
"She'd kill you if she heard you say that." Kitsu laughs.
I say nothing else on the matter. Not wanting to continue the line dialogue of my wife's body with a twelve year old.
Kitsus' giggling slows down and tapers off.
"I helped Chris with chemistry." She says.
"Who? It's not another boy I have to threaten, is it?" I say half joking, half serious.
I'll get Lungs number from Kitsu if I have to.
She shakes her head.
"No, it's not another boy you have to threaten. He's one of the Wards." She answers.
"So was the last boy." I point out.
She pouts as she moves her head away from my shoulder and smacks it back against.
"Lemme finish! Don't make me whack you with my tail again!" She says.
'Is she aware that anytime she tries to look angry she just comes off as cute and pouty?'
"Oh no! The tail! My one weakness! You have cowed me to submission, and have thus earned my silence. Continue to regal me with the story of this, Chris." I say dramatically.
She giggles more and nuzzles back into my shoulder.
"I helped him with his worksheet, the teacher gave him a basic sheet despite Chris having dyscalculia."
"You mean dyslexia?" I ask.
She shakes her head gently.
"Dyscalculia. It's like dyslexia, but with numbers instead of letters."
'How does that work?' I think.
"Never heard of that before." I say.
"It's not as common as dyslexia, but it's a real thing. I rewrote all the answers as word problems." She says. "Don't tell anyone though. He's sensitive about it and doesn't like being labeled with a disability."
I can only imagine.
"I won't." I say with a roll of my eyes.
"After that there was art, then lunch. Where I came home. And now here." She finishes off.
"Feeling better?" I ask.
She nods her head and nuzzles into me further.
*Brzzt*
Reaching into my pocket and grabbing my phone, I see it's a text from Vicky.
(Don't tell mom)-V
(I lost Kitsu)-V
(Shes not ansring her phone)-V
"Hey sweetie, where's your phone?" I ask.
"Charging, why?" She says, not taking her eyes off the TV.
"Did you tell anyone you were coming straight home?"
After a second or two her ears go flat and her tail unhooks itself and wraps around her front.
"Uh, maybe I forgot?" She says with an apologetic smile.
Texting back to Vicky.
(She is right here. We are watching TV.)-M
As I send that I get another text from Amy.
(Have you seen the fox?)-A
I wait a few seconds.
(Nvrmnd)-A
"So who was that?" Kitsu asks.
"Amy and Vicky, they're freaking out because they can't find you." I say.
She blinks a few times and tucks her head down to hide the lower half of her face under the fluff of her tail before responding.
"Oops?"
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-Unnamed law firm, Downtown, 4:30 pm-
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Carol "Brandish" Dallon POV
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Packing up my things and going through my mental to do list.
'Let's see, got my bag. Got my phone. My files are in order. What am I forgetting?'
It takes me a few seconds, but I realize that I never did call Vista's mother. And I still need to talk to Vicky about why she recommended therapy for Kitsu.
It might be nothing, but if it is something, I'm not going in halfcocked and potentially set something off. Vicky wouldn't just suggest therapy out of nowhere and if I'm going to do anything I need all the details.
"Might as well get that done." I say to myself. Grabbing my bag and fishing my phone out I dial for Vicky.
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"Hey mom, what's up?" She answers.
"Not much, just packing up and getting ready to head home. I need to talk to you about something though."
"Uh, sure. Whatcha need?"
"You told your father that Kitsu needs therapy, why?" I say.
"Oh! Um, well, can we, not? Over the phone at least?" She says awkwardly.
'Now I really need to know.'
"When I get home, you better be there so we can discuss this." I say sternly.
"I uh, I'm kinda doing something at the moment." She says.
"This is not something to put off Victoria." I say seriously. "You don't just say someone needs therapy for no reason."
"I, okay. I'm heading home now." She relents.
"Alright, love you, bye."
"Love ya, bye."
*Click*
'That's going to be a fun conversation.' I think sarcastically.
Going to have to get Kitsu out of the house when it happens. I don't know how good her ears are, but it's enough that when she listens to music she puts her radio on the other side of her room.
Making it to the outside of the building I dial the number of Vistas mother.
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"Hi, this is Rebecca, I can't get to the phone right now so just leave a message." *Beep* A bored sounding voice replies.
"Hi, this is Carol Dallon, I was calling because your daughter wanted to spend the night with mine this Friday and I was hoping to verify if that was okay with you." I recite.
Now all I have to do is wait.
Making it the smokers area outside the firm I sit and wait for Mark.
I don't smoke but there are no other benches.
After waiting for a about five minutes I see Mark pull up.
Walking over, sliding into the passenger seat and setting my bag on the floor I let a small breath I was holding in.
"You good honey?" Mark asks.
Running my hands through my hair and grabbing the band to let my hair down I reply.
"Yeah, just hate waiting in smokers spot. The smell is nauseating."
"You could wait inside." He suggests, already driving.
I shake my head.
"Then I run the risk of someone coming up to me and asking for help filing or citing. Then I'm stuck over longer." I say tiredly. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful for the most part. Mowed the lawn, got the bathroom scrubbed, did the dishes and overall got everything done." He says.
Everything?
"That's good. Did you call the psychiatrist?"
He tsks and slaps the wheel of the car.
"I didn't. I completely forgot. I'll have to call tomorrow." He says.
"Do I need to have Kitsu remind you?" I say half serious.
He pauses in thought.
"Maybe? Speaking of, Kitsu came home early today."
Early? From a vocational school?
"Did she have a reason? I hope she's not playing hooky." I say sternly.
He shakes his head slightly.
"No, nothing like that. She came straight home at lunch, she didn't miss any classes." He says. "She was avoiding Dennis."
'That's, understandable.' I mentally concede.
"She didn't tell anyone she was heading straight home though, so Vicky and Amy were texting me freaking out." He adds.
"Sounds about right." I think out loud.
Kitsu can be fairly absentminded and inconsiderate. Not in the malicious sense, just that she doesn't think to consider certain things or have any real common sense.
"She was in a bit of a mood so we watched some shows together while she vented about her day." He finishes.
"Where is she now?" I ask, partly curious, partly to see if I need to get her out of the house for the conversation I'm going to have with Vicky.
"At the house, she's messing with a few dandelions. She's trying to make them pink." He says with a chuckle.
"What?" I ask.
"Her biokinesis isn't limited to people it seems. So long as it's organic, she can mess with it. She managed to make them various shades of white and yellow by the time I left. But that's it." He explains.
"That could be, very dangerous." I say seriously, turning my head to look at him.
"She's just changing the color of flowers. I doubt she'd turn into another Nilbog or Bonesaw." He defends.
"Even still, we need to make sure she knows not to make any biohazards."
The amount of deadly things that have been made on accident throughout history is nothing to scoff at.
"I highly doubt she'd-" He pauses. "Okay yeah, I can see her doing that on accident and not telling anyone."
The rest of the ride home was filled with relative silence.
Pulling into the driveway and making our way out of the car to the house. Walking up and opening the door, I'm immediately assaulted by the little blonde menace as she slams into me and nuzzles my stomach.
"Did you miss me?" She says, looking up with a smile. Tail wagging like a dog greeting its owner.
"Sure." I say in a bored tone and pat her back.
She squeals and runs off before running back with a handful of purple flowers.
"Look what I did!" She says, shoving them up for me to see.
"I thought you wanted to make them pink?" Mark says behind me as I step around Kitsu.
"Close enough!" She says.
Ignoring the rest of their argument on the technicalities of colors. I make my way to Mark and I's room. Passing Kitsus' room and glancing in, she normally leaves her door open unless she's in there.
I look around and take in the theme she produced. It's a dim lit room only really lit by her starlight projector and the blue LED strips lining the rim of the ceiling. The light cast by the LED strips making the maroon walls almost purple where the light hits. There's her stuffed narwhal, a radio on the ground next to an outlet, opposite side of her room as her bed. And a cd rack next to it. Her rug splayed out next to her bed. And a dresser next to her closet door. She has a few clothes strewn about near her clothes basket and that's about it.
Out of habit at seeing the darker room I flip the light on.
Nothing happens and I look up to notice she had removed the light bulb. I want to be mad, but I never told her she couldn't and I'm aware that how light affects her differently. So I just shut her door.
Making my way to kitchen I see the table littered with dandelion of various colors, red, white and yellow.
"Kitsu! I'm changing out of my work clothes! If I get back and this mess is still here you're losing your radio!"
"You fiend! You wouldn't dare!"
I don't respond as I know it'll just lead to a back and forth that'll go in circles.
After making it to my room and getting rid of my bra, changing to sweats and a loose tee, I come back to see the table cleared of all but the purple ones. Which Kitsu is trying to weave into a wreathe.
"I thought I said to clean up the mess." I say, folding my arms.
"This isn't a mess, it's art! I'mma sell these." She says with a smile.
"Pretty sure using powers to make a profit is against NEPEA-5."
"Only if I file to make a business that markets said powers. It's how Parian gets away with her business. She's not marketing the use of her powers, she's just saying she can make clothes like anyone else can, while mentioning she has powers. Not that she uses powers to make clothes." She says.
It really is easy to forget she's smart, just hyperactive and lacking common sense.
"Okay, still. Not at the kitchen table. This table is meant for food." I say.
"Dandelions are perfectly edible." She says smugly.
"Prove it." I say, calling her out.
She stares at me for a second before, like the twelve year old she is proving a point, popping a few in her mouth. She chews with a sour expression then swallows.
After a second, she opens her mouth to show she ate them.
We stare at each other for a bit.
"Really?" I ask in slight disgust.
"Yeeaaah." She draws out. "I'm not proud of that one."
She bunches up the remaining flowers in her arms and moves to take them to the living room.
"Later we're going to have a talk about you playing mad scientist, got it?"
"Kay!" She says walking off.
After a second I sit down at the table and pull out my phone. Dialing Vicky, it immediately goes to voice mail.
*Click*
Hearing a door open and watching as Victoria walks into the kitchen.
"I was just in my room." She says softly.
"Alright. Mark!"
"Yeah?!" He says and walks in a few seconds later, leaning on the archway.
"Why don't you take Kitsu to the park or something? I need to talk to Vicky." I tell him.
"Is this about last night?" He asks quietly.
I just nod to him.
"Alright call me when you want us back." He says and heads back.
After a bit I hear the front door close and turn to Vicky.
"Alright, why did you say Kitsu needs therapy?"
She fidgets with her hands and looks away for a bit before answering.
"Well, we were talking about her power to change her appearance and Amy asked if that she looked like a child on purpose. At which point she got mad and explained that was just how she looked. That she's naturally short and that she is in fact physically twelve. That led to conversation about how old she really is, she doesn't know exactly, and that led to where she first came from. Like where she first appeared and all that." She rants.
"This better be going somewhere." I say.
I am not playing the 'drag out the issue' game.
"It is. She said she first showed up in Boston, at about midday, may ninth." She continues. "Only Amy was looking it up on the parahuman wiki and well. According to the wiki she first showed up in somewhere else later in the day, and she pointed that out and." She stops. Trailing off and looking away.
"And? Vicky stop dancing around the issue." I say, starting to lose my patience.
"Kitsu had a panic attack." She says quickly.
…
That is not something to joke about.
'I've seen the aftermath of Kitsu being frozen alive. She literally walked it off and joked about it.'
"Elaborate." I say sternly.
"Well, Amy pointed out how Boston was under quarantine at the time. Then Kitsu got quiet, then pale, then unresponsive. Then started shaking and looked ready to cry." She explains quickly.
I can feel my heart thudding at the implications.
"Then, I later found out why. The time and place Kitsu said she first appeared was the sight of a Slaughterhouse Nine quarantine." Vicky finally finishes.
The thudding in my chest stops as I feel my heart drop into my gut.
"Oh, oh god." I say softly, eyes going wide at the implications.
Vicky just stares at her hands that are currently clasped together.
"When was this?" I ask seriously.
"Uh, last week. When her hair was white for a day." She answers.
'That long ago?!'
"And you didn't think to mention it sooner!?" I shout.
"I told dad she might need therapy!" She defends.
"Victoria! You can't just say something like that and expect people to just-!" I stop and take a breath.
I calm myself and think about what to say next carefully. Getting angry and shouting won't help anything.
"Vicky, I love you, but that is something that could've used a bit more tact."
"Well, I promised I wouldn't talk about it! And the only reason I suggested therapy is because Amy figured out it was PTSD from the Nine!" She continues.
'Amy is the one that found out?' I think.
"Amy found out it was the Slaughterhouse Nine? What were you doing?"
She looks away sheepishly.
"Uh, well, I."
"Victoria Dallon." I start softly. "Are you telling me that Kitsu had a PTSD episode, and you didn't think to find out why, or tell someone?"
"I, promised Kitsu I wouldn't tell anyone it happened?" She defends, though her tone suggest she knows it's not a viable excuse.
I stand up and pull out my phone to dial Amy. Putting the phone to my ear I wait.
"Uh, who are you calling?" Vicky asks.
"Amy, we're getting this sorted, now." I stress.
"Mom! She's at the hospital! She-" Vicky tries to stop me.
"She's there every single day. She can spare a minute to talk."
'Now that I think about it, Amy is healing people every chance she gets.'
"Carol? What is it, you never call."
"Amy, Kitsu had a panic attack-"
"Again!? Where is she!?" Amy shouts.
"A few days ago. Let me finish." I reprimand. "What were you planning to do about it and why wasn't I informed sooner?"
"I've been speaking to child psychologist and trying to figure out how to handle it. Try and figure out how to bring it up without said little girl having an episode and possibly turning violent." She explains.
I give a side glance to Victoria.
"At least one of you was trying to do something. Next time something like this happens, inform me." I say and hang up.
"I was trying to help!" Vicky says.
"The thing I'm upset about, is that you didn't tell me. Or try to come up with something other than effectively shoving the issue off to someone else." I stress.
As I feel my blood pulsing in my ears from the reality of the situation sinking in, I take another deep breath to calm myself.
"Vicky just, go. I need to figure out how to handle this and tell your father."
"Mom I-"
"Vicky." I stop her. "I still love you, yes I am upset with the method you took to this." 'Or lack thereof.' "But I still love you and understand that you were trying to help. Right now though? I need to be left alone to think."
We stare at each other for a bit before she turns around and heads back to her room.
I sit back down and put my head in my hands. Holding back the urge to cry at the thought of what Kitsu might have gone through.
People die when the Nine show up. The lucky ones do at least. The unlucky ones die after. The very unlucky live. No encounter with the roaming band of serial killers ends well.
The rate of suicides linked to them goes to show just what I mean.
"How do I deal with this?" I ask myself quietly. As though I'll magically get an answer.
'Amy has the right idea, it's not like I can just go up to Kitsu and say, "I know you're a Slaughterhouse Survivor so I'm putting you in therapy." There's no telling how she'd react.'
Taking deep breathes to calm myself and force the lump in my throat down.
…
I pick up my phone and dial Amy again.
…
"Carol? Is, something wrong?" I hear her ask tentatively.
"You've been talking to child psychologist right?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know how to-" I stop and think of a way to properly phrase what I'm trying to ask. "Have you come up with how to approach the issue? To Kitsu I mean."
"Honestly? Outside of waiting for the topic to come up naturally or just pull a Vicky and rush headlong into the problem? No."
'That's what I was afraid of.'
Taking a deep breath and sighing.
"That's, okay."
"I know. I- hang on, what? No. I, yeah I know just- I gotta go. They just brought in a guy with a power drill through his neck."
*Click*
Setting the phone back down I slowly contemplate as I'm forced to reevaluate everything I know about Kitsu. If all this is true? Best case is she saw some things that left her scarred. The worst case is she was a direct victim.
'I need to let Mark know somehow.'
*Brzzt*
Looking down at the phone I see it's a message from Mark.
(Bit of an issue. Call when you get a chance. We're on our way home.)-M
Glad for the distraction I call him immediately.
…
"Hey, I got you on speaker, I'm starting the car." He says.
"What's the issue? Kitsu didn't break anything, did she?" I ask.
"Who do you take me for? Vicky?" I Kitsu groans out.
"Is that Kitsu? She sounds sick."
"Yeah, that's why I wanted you to call. Apparently she ate a few of those dandelions." He says.
"Yeah, I was there for it. She said dandelions were edible, was she wrong?" I ask slightly concerned, slightly amused at the possible karma.
"No, I looked it up. Dandelions are perfectly edible, normally. Whatever she did to make them purple turned them toxic." He explains as I hear the car start.
"Such is folly of man! For in his attempt to play with very forces of nature, he be felled by his own creation." Kitsu cries out.
"Sounds fine to me if she can be that dramatic." I say with a roll of my eyes. "And I guess this can be a perfect example of why you need to be careful when experimenting. How is she?"
"She already threw up twice." Mark says. "She's fine, just a little under the weather."
"Life is pain." Kitsu adds.
"Can't she just, use her biokinesis to purge her system?" I ask.
"That's what the second time was for!" Kitsu shouts.
"She tried, but according to her she isn't aware of what's going on in her body at all times. She has to actively look, by the time she started feeling sick most of the toxins were already in her system." Mark explains.
"Can't she flush them out from her blood or something?" I ask.
"I'm trying! I'm not PanPan!" She whines.
"She's not as good as Amy when it comes to manipulating biology." Mark translates.
"Of course she isn't." I say under my breath as I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Alright, how far are you?"
"A few blocks down. We'll be home in a few minutes. We didn't even make it to the park."
"Alright, I'm wrapped up here. I'll talk to you when you get home."
"Right, see you then."
*Click*
Once again I'm left alone to my thoughts. And all I can find is a whole lot of nothing in regards on how to handle the current situation.
'Maybe I can get that doctors number from Amy.'
Picking up my phone and sending out a text to ask her the doctors contact info.
After a bit of waiting and getting the info for one Dr. Ahmad, Amy texts that I should wait until tomorrow as she would inform him to await a call from me.
Having that done with, I decide to move to the living room to greet the arriving duo when they got here.
Sitting on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping though channels I hear the car pull up in less than a minute.
Kitsu stomps in and makes her way over to me, or rather next to me as she flops down face first onto the couch.
"Don't plop on the furniture." I tell her.
"MMmmmnnnmm!"
Mark walks in soon after and closes the door behind him. I raise a brow in question and nod towards the growling little girl.
He gives me a flat look in response.
"She's upset because a lot of things went bad for her today." He says.
Kitsu pops her head and whines.
"Today has done nothing but suck!" She shouts and plops her face back down.
"And why does today suck?" I ask, rolling my eyes.
"It just does!" She shouts through the couch cushion.
"I thought you were sick?" I ask.
"She was, then she figured she could enhance her metabolism and burn through what was in her system." He answers, moving to take a seat in the recliner.
"So then what's the problem?"
"She just hasn't had much of a good day."
Looking down to the mop of golden blonde hair and ears splayed back. I reach down and scratch her ears. Watching in amusement as her tail starts to wag.
She coos before darting her head to the side.
"Nyo." She says defiantly.
After a second or two I go back to scratching her ears, and once again she presses her head to my hand, tail wagging, before abruptly moving away.
"No."
"Okay, what's your deal here?" I ask, not wanting to play this little game of hers.
"I'm mad. I want to be mad. Let me be mad!" She protests.
'Angsty teenager then.'
"Well too bad. I don't put up with angsty teens in this house."
I pick her up and hold her in front of me. Her legs dragging on the couch next to my lap.
"What is with people just picking me up lately? This is like, the fourth time in two days." She says incredulously with a pouty look.
"If it makes you upset you could ask us to stop." I say plainly.
She says nothing and just glares, gaining a little bit of a blush as she darts her eyes away from me.
"I never said I didn't like it." She mumbles and I roll my eyes.
I'm trying to treat her normal. But after what Victoria told me? About how she might very well be a survivor of the Nine? I can't help but feel as though I need to walk on eggshells around her.
God the thought of her in a panic attack horrifies me. And not just because of the damage she could cause.
I bring her close and hold her against me. Holding her like I did yesterday. With her sideways in my lap.
"Um, not that I mind. But what're you doing?" She asks.
'Taking a leap of faith and hoping it doesn't blow up in my face.'
"Kitsu, you know if something is bothering you, or if something happened, we won't judge you alright?" I say in my best attempt of a comforting voice.
"Okay, now you're starting to scare me." She says concerned.
I can see Mark raising an eyebrow out the corner of my eye.
I'm really not good at this.
"Look, is there something you need to get off your chest?" I ask plainly.
She stares in confusion for a moment before a quick flash of realization dances across her face. She looks away, ears down and tail twitching.
"Uh, no?" She says not meeting my gaze.
"Kitsu. If you don't want to say, that's fine. Just know that putting it off won't help." I try to reassure her.
She fidgets and squirms in my lap.
"OKAY FINE! I'm the one that broke into the Delgatto's house and ate all their pop tarts! And broke their window!"
…
"What?!" I ask in astonishment.
Her tail curls around to the front of her as she tries to hide behind it.
"Is, that not what this is about?" She asks diminutively.
"It is now!"
I feel her move to jump off my lap, but I hold her still.
"No! You are not getting out of this!"
"That was about a month ago! And I only did it because I needed a place to stay!" She defends frantically.
"You are going over there tomorrow, you are apologizing, then you are going to ask what you can do to make up for it little girl."
"But!"
"No butts! Or I'll take Mr. Star." I say sternly.
She gives a horrified look before going limp and sighing, tail falling to her, and my, lap.
"Kay." She says quietly.
After a few moments, she notices I haven't tossed her off my lap. Looking to me, then around, she slumps against me as she wiggles around to get more comfortable. Curling her knees up to rest her legs on my thighs.
With her tail still curled around to her front she looks up to me.
"You can uh, you can scratch my ears now. If you want." She says awkwardly.
I just sigh and scratch her ears as requested.
She squeals and nuzzles into the top of my chest, still holding her tail as she scoots closer to press herself against me as best she can.
'Wait, who are the Delgatto's?'
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-Next day, 7:20 am-
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Kitsu POV
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Something weird is going on here.
First last night with Carol. She was being rather accommodating and affectionate. Don't get me wrong, I thrive on affection, but Carol doesn't get affectionate without prompting.
Not to mention I heard her ask Mark to get me out of the house so she and Vicky could talk.
Then at dinner Vicky was oddly quiet and Amy refused to look at me.
Mark seemed curious about it, but not willing to say anything.
And now Vicky straight up just won't look at me, and when she does she looks apprehensive. Like she's hiding something.
Amy is back to normal. Though that could be because of her lack of coffee.
We ran out.
I'm wearing my version of Leaf's outfit by the way, even changed my hair and eye color to greyish brown. I'm even wearing the hat; it's modified with grooves in it so that it just folds my ears to the back of my head instead of squishing them.
Back to the present!
"Okay, what's up?" I ask.
After a few seconds Vicky pipes up.
"What do you mean?" Vicky says suspiciously between bites of her cereal.
"That!" I say, leaning up and pointing across the table at her. "You and everyone else besides Mark have been acting weird! Well, PanPan gets a pass because she's always been weird."
Amy, who is on her phone scrolling through something, just flips me off without looking.
"See what I mean? She didn't comment on the PanPan part!"
Amy looks up, looks to me, then to Vicky. Then back to her phone.
"Maybe it's just you?" Vicky says.
I level a flat glare at her.
"Don't try to gaslight me. At least Amy has the decency to not say anything." I say seriously.
"How about this? If you still want to know by the end of the day, we'll tell you. Deal?" Amy says, looking up at me.
I can tell this is going nowhere. And we have to leave in less than half an hour so I don't really have a choice here.
"Fine."
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-Arcadia high, 8:10 am-
Making my way to social studies I contemplate about what could possibly be having everyone in the house acting weird.
Whatever it is Mark is seemingly in the dark, that or he's better at acting than the rest of them.
Vicky is deflective and almost looks ashamed when she looks at me.
Carol was treating me like I was made of glass, outside the incident with me confessing my b&e.
Amy, was grumpy as usual. But she doesn't normally avoid looking at me.
Taking my seat in the front row, marked by the fact that it's the only one with an open back, I set my bag down and stare out the window as I think some more.
Could it be about my estrus? No, Carol only started acting when me and Mark came home. Could it be about me manipulating plants? That would explain any apprehension on Carol and Amy's part. But not Carol's carefulness and affection around me. Or Vicky's out of character behavior.
As I'm thinking I hear the familiar voice of Vergil and Dennis talking as they approach the door to the room.
Wait.
My eyes widen in realization as my heart drops in anxiety.
'I share my first class with Dennis! And I sit next to him!"
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Bonus
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Benjamin Kirby Tennyson POV
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So many ideas! So many possibilities!
Not long after I woke up in the hospital did my mind get flooded like some freaky mind download.
After getting home I had looked up powers and founder I was a tinker. There was nothing else it could be. Then I saw the classifications on breaker and changers and got an idea!
I'm currently working on said idea. A sort of dictionary for the various amalgamations I'll create. It'll allow me to safely test my experiments on myself by taking a sort of snapshot of my body and saving it every time I use it. Then when I try out a new splice it'll turn me back before anything permanent can be done to my DNA. And then I can use its secondary feature. It'll take a snapshot of the forms I turn into, allowing me to use them whenever I want!
I'm not an idiot though. It'll always default my DNA to human after ten minutes. That way I don't get stuck as some freaky chicken man by accident.
I'd been using the science kit "Santa" got me last Christmas to look at and modify the DNA of various things.
I have five splices to try out as soon as this is done!
I had to use my dad's old watch and my mom's jewelry to make the equipment I needed to actually do anything other than just look.
But it worked!
Somehow.
"Alright, lets try this!"
*Click*
It whirs to life as the hourglass dial spins.
"Yes!"
It's a little clunky, and impossible to hide.
But I plan on following the one who saved me. Let everyone see my face and know who I am!
Just gotta do this next part.
"Okay, this is gonna suck big time."
I grab a shirt from my dresser and stuff it in my mouth for this.
Placing my wrist in the watch-like device, clamping the bottom shut as I press the green buttons on the sides of the dial.
*Whriiiiiiiiiiii*
I see white as I feel the device drill the white tubes into my wrist.
I fall to the floor in pain as I feel a burning sensation course through the bones of my forearm.
"MMMRRRRMMRRMRMRMMNN"
In what feels like hours, it's over.
Panting and looking over at my alarm clock, I see it's only been a minute.
Giving myself a second to catch my breath. I get up and grab one of the test tubes from the science kit, this one labeled red.
(Steak-Spider-Weird thing found in the alley)
Popping the stopper off I twist my wrist so my new watches tube feeder is latched to it. I turn it upside down and watch with excitement as it drains into the device.
Not able to wait, I yank the test tube off and press the upper and lower green buttons on the dial. It raises up, and the green hourglass shifts to be a green diamond displaying the number 1.
With zero hesitation I slam the dial down.
I feel a sense of extreme pain and burning as I grow an extra se of arms and eyes, and I grow to nearly twice my height.
"AAAAAaaaaaarrraagh! Note to self, add in nerve dampeners for when transformation takes place." I say in a new, raspy gruff voice.
Looking down I notice the only thing that survived the transformation were my cargo shorts. And my skin is red and well.
I
AM
BUFF!
"Ben? Are you okay in there? We heard thumping and crashing." I hear mom call out from the other side of my door.
"Crap!" I say quietly, looking around my room for something to hide myself. "Uh, I'm fine?!"
The door opens at that, and I pause like a deer in the headlights. Mom staring at me wide eyed and face draining of color.
"I can explain?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaAAaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"
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Bonus
Le second?
Warning, it gets morbid.
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Joseph "Scarecrow" Crane
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Turns out Skidmark was more intelligent than I gave him credit for.
Controlling a bunch of tweakers, dealers, and junkies with nothing in common other than drug addictions and poor quality of life wasn't as easy as it seemed.
"I, I, I, I, Swear! I, I, I, I, won't do it again! You got my word!" The younger mixed African American boy said.
Though he could've been Hawaiian, or Samoan, it didn't matter, and I didn't really care.
He's currently strapped, naked, to a rotating table, slanted and locked in place so that he's on an incline, able to see me if not for the blindfold. Various machines jerry-rigged to him to monitor his vitals. Here in one of my test labs set up throughout the slums. A dingy place that couldn't even be sterilized as it wouldn't make a difference.
"You see that's just it. Your word isn't nearly as valuable as the results I'll get to see." I say. My ventilator mask adding a slight rasp to the sound.
He was a younger boy, maybe sixteen, seventeen at the most, a child in nearly every sense. But he had tried to break into one of our labs and steal a quick high.
So an example needed to be made.
I look to my table and go through the various aerosols.
"Let's see here~ no, no, already have that one well documented, maybe this one?" I say aloud. Knowing he can hear.
"Please! I, I'll go clean! It wasn't even for me! Someone else made me do it!" He shouts.
At this point he's likely just spouting out random things to hopefully save himself.
It fills me with a sense of nostalgia and happiness as I remember how my father would discuss this with me when I was little.
About how the mind reacts to fear and danger. How it resorts to nearly every alternative to avoid certain dangers when presented with an unfavorable situation. How there is no universal constant when it comes to fear. Everyone was different. With different experiences, traumas, phobias, excreta. All mixing into the person and making them unique, with unique triggers and unique reactions.
I never really understood any of it at the time, too young, too dumb. But the passion my father had in his voice and on his face. I miss it so. When I kept asking questions, he would explain in great detail, happy to just have someone listen with eagerness.
It makes me want to use the fear toxin, to feel just a little bit closer to him again.
I shake my head at the thought. While I'm sure my father would be touched at the sentiment. He'd likely be just as, if not more, disappointed at me wasting this opportunity to test a new concoction in such a controlled environment.
He was above all else, a scientist after all.
Picking up the aluminum canister with a blue stripe and connecting it to a modified BVM. I walk over and strap it to the boys face.
"Now, lets see what this one does. Do be a good patient and allow me to record the data properly."
Twisting the nozzle on the canister and watching as the blue gray smoke fills the mouthpiece.
He squirms and screams. The heart monitor going up, and up. His blood pressure dropping. Blood leaking from his mouth and nose into the mouthpiece and I sigh in annoyance as it clogs.
'Going to have to replace that one.'
His skin becomes discolored and bruised in various spots as the poison runs rampant through his system.
He stops squirming. After a moment, the heart monitor stops all together.
Grabbing a voice recorder off the table, labelling the scotch on it, I press the button and begin my analysis.
"Subject lasted four minutes and thirty-two seconds before expiring. Death occurred by either cardiac arrest or hemorrhagic hypotension. Unclear as to whether loss of blood caused the heart to stop, or the heart gave out. Lack of extreme violent motor activity implies either lack of pain accompanying symptoms, or a severe reduction in motor functions." Removing the blindfold, I continue my observations. "Subject displays subconjunctival hemorrhage, eyes are still aligned. Severe post mortem discoloration of the skin resembling hematomas forming implies death caused by severe hemorrhaging. Aside from stated observation subject displays all typical signs death for male individuals. Body is in a state of releasing waste and subject seems to have post mortem priapism. Whether that is a result of the newly tested aerosol or a natural occurrence in this case is yet to be determined. Further testing will be needed." I finish.
Placing the recorder down and taking a deep sigh to myself. Happy to have decent moment to myself.
At least I have little moments like these away from the idiots that make up the rest of this place.
Looking at the body I think about how to get rid of it.
"Where is that new recruit? What was his name again? Cletus?"
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A/N Scarecrow be cooking up the merry band of psychopaths for his new version of the Merchants.
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Sorry this one took so long, I kept getting writers block, and when I got over it something kept popping up.
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While yes most of what Kitsu eats gets turned into energy she uses, that mostly just applies to calories and the like, things that normally get stored when in excess. Anything that can't be burned into energy gets shoved through as waste.
So yes, if she ever developed lactose intolerance, she'd either need to live without pizza or figure out how fix it.
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For the part with Chris's Dyscalculia, I pulled from real life and how one of my friends deals with his Dyscalculia. To him numbers are just abstract intangible things that require 4d chess levels of comprehension to understand. But if you rephrase it as a word problem? Or just talk it out? Oh that's easy!
I remember one conversation in middle school.
"Instead of using this weird, Japanese hieroglyphic, why can't they just be like, a set of fingers?" He said, referring to the number 5.
He was having a rough day.
"With or without the thumb?" I said jokingly.
"Fuck off."
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I love you guys so much, I'll give you a view into [Conduit]s nature.
As mentioned before [Conduit] is just the designation Kitsu gave because she didn't like the original one. [Manipulator]
In all actuality if we were to compare [Conduit] to the shards of Scion. [Conduit] would be something of a mix between the Faerie Queens and Skitters.
Faerie Queens is the one meant to collect and parse through information at the end of the [Cycle]. Skitters is the Administrator to the other shards.
[Conduit]s role in the Wanderer was to parse through and reallocate the data of other shard pieces. They were the one checking and double checking the others, parsing through and ensuring no deviant codes emerged. And rewriting them as needed. This is how [Conduit] has so many expressions of power, it's seen the coding of so many others that it knows a thing or two. And it's why [Conduit] is a deviant. It was the one looking for deviances in others, there was no one to check on [Conduit]
If [Conduit] was made for a [Cycle] then it would mostly express itself as either breaker, master, or trump powers.
Which is ironic seeing as Kitsu mostly got the breaker power of using energy to shift into an enhanced state, while everyone assumes she's a trump.
The funny part is that Kitsu has access to an unlimited source of energy seeing as [Conduit] has the [Answer] but can never use it as it would effectively light a beacon to the entire existing network.
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The issue here is that the Wanderer has no interest in the [Cycle]. It doesn't care about surviving the heat death of the multiverse because it simply doesn't see the point. So it wanders, observing other [Cycles] and civilizations, doing its own thing.
[Conduit] developed a deviancy that caused it to get bored with the repetition of its role. And it spiraled from there, desiring something new, seeing data on the [Cycle] that the other shards brought through from the Wanderers observations. Gaining a desire to participate. Collecting deviant data instead of reworking or deleting it. And finally, when it saw a chance? Jumped on the opportunity, grabbed a body from a parallel earth and popped it into Earth-Bet. Rushing everything in its excitement.
Ironically enough the entity that doesn't care is the one that has a shard that came across the [Answer]
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As always comment! I thrive on reviews. Just don't be a dick.