Okay I was pretty busy this week, but it remains the case I was
waiting for this first wednesday of the year with bated breath for my favorite Honkai fic to come back.
So, time to start the show!
Investigation was a time-consuming, difficult task. Tracking down leads, interviewing recalcitrant or biased witnesses, obtaining information from other intelligence-gathering agencies… it was always a grind, even at the best of times. PRT agents handled most of the grunt work, but Crystal had picked up a bit from spending time with the Protectorate members over the last couple years. Her mom had taught her some herself, drawing on her days in the Brockton Bay Brigade, operating without external funding or affiliate status. Crystal understood that to do a proper, full investigation into what happened with Emma would require interviews, legwork, official data requests… all things that were slow, raised eyebrows, and drew attention.
My my, here we are with
Crystal, taking the time to follow up on her very particular theories as to the Condition Of Emma Barnes.
Which was why she was cyberstalking her crush's little sister instead. Truly, the advances of modernity were myriad.
Truly, a
spectacular way to start Laserdream.
It's interesting to get just the littlest teaser as to what New Wave used to be, the Brockton Bay Brigade being before they got as tight with the Protectorate and stripped off their masks for their children to carry that same torch.
And she had forgotten how inane kids could be. Emma had signed up on WhoZoo as early as she could. Crystal frowned and did the mental math. No, earlier than she was allowed to, actually – the girl had gotten lucky and turned 13 just before they'd gone on their big underage-account-cleaning spree a few years back, so she hadn't gotten banned.
Taylor was easy to find from there, as it appeared she had not turned 13 in time, and had had to make a fresh account. Her first post (Visit, technically, but Crystal wasn't about to let them redefine a term that simple), in fact, was on Emma's Visitor Book, saying that she'd made an account "definitely for the first time" now that she was 13. Scanning back on Emma's profile did show quite a bit of chatting with a deleted account.
Crystal shook her head and smiled. Teenagers.
Bro why are you being like this.
Amazing how the fic where Taylor's never actually shown up onscreen is perhaps the singularly most brutal piece of writing about her obliterated relationship with Emma.
Still, it was an easy place to establish the timeline. A couple quick checks confirmed that their mothers were also WhoZoo friends, and that sealed it. Almost certainly the same Taylor. So, then, what happened? If it was a sudden change of behavior, then…
She scanned down Emma's history for a few minutes, before sighing. The girl was clearly popular, given how dense with conversation her profile was. But aside from that, it seemed fairly normal.
Regardless, Emma's behavior looked… well, she wasn't an expert, but it seemed normal for the early years. Friend requests with classmates, gossip. Her closest friend was clearly this Taylor girl, but she wasn't exactly isolated, and posted regularly. Timeline view had her at a pretty steady rate, with spikes around holidays and the like… which was why Crystal blinked and scrolled back at the weeks that were just dead, from the summer before last. Almost two weeks with no activity at all, from a girl who reliably made dozens each week.
The sound of red flags flapping in the wind was almost deafening.
Okay suddenly I'm realizing my original, valid worries about 'hey is Crystal gonna completely fuck up the motives and assume Kiana's a Master' might have run into the equally incorrect, but much more. Relative to the situation, assumption that 'oh it's the person who randomly popped up in her social circle after those weeks who's the Master, Sophia!'
Jeez.
What, then, was going on at that time?
It would have been before school got back in, though later in the summer still. It was, if she recalled correctly, a couple weeks before early move-in at UMac. She checked the profiles of Emma's closer friends and found no big events or parties being discussed.
Taylor was off at some sort of out-of-town summer camp, and judging by Emma's teasing before she left, didn't have a smartphone. Odd, to not have a smartphone in 2011, but not exactly suspicious. Poorer family, maybe? Anne was across the country, still with family on the West Coast. Emma's own parents posted at about their normal (low) rate during that time period, and seemed to be in the city.
So, an empty two weeks. She cast her memory back, but couldn't think of anything big and cape-related from that period. A check on those weeks' Brockton General Threads on PHO showed nothing in the customary pinned summary.
A part of me is like. Man the assumption that this is a Parahuman situation (even if it is, yeah, partially Cape related) is gonna bite Crystal in the ass, but it's not as if she isn't already doing her due diligence trying to scope out the more direct gaps in understanding before trying to tap PHO for a clue.
I really should reread the other investigation chapters from earlier in the fic, won't deny there's an interesting energy to the variation in stumbling points all the detectives pick out.
She was about to call it quits on that particular mystery when she glanced at Emma's other socials. ViaParty wasn't exactly the kind of social hub that WhoZoo was, being more about shouting into the void than keeping track of friends, so she'd only done a brief check… until she found that Emma's ViaParty account – @RegalRedhead, ugh, what a tacky username – had been made during that two-week window. And her first contact was… Crystal winced. A girl named @BrokenWindow. Coming from a Black kid in Brockton Bay, well… she sighed. It told her enough, at least. From a bad area of town, keenly aware of police discrimination, likely victimized by them directly.
And
here the trail to Shadow Stalker is found.
Boy are the bad implications only starting.
"Broken windows" policing was a grotesque policy on Earth-Aleph that the NYPD had adopted, holding that the best way to reduce crime as a whole was to target tiny-but-visible crimes, as if murder and assault would go away because someone got arrested for public intoxication or jaywalking. The BBPD had loved the idea, and adopted it immediately.
They used it for its actual intended purpose, of course: oppressing minorities, forcing them into prison or poverty traps. There had been a push to end the policy a few years ago, but of course when it was revealed that ABB-linked Asian community groups had been financial sponsors of the campaign the city council had reversed course faster than you could write "reflexive racism." Never mind, of course, that Empire money was just as tied into promoting the policy.
Oh. Boy.
It's great (just. Great) how many little evils immediately wrap around to "Fucking NAZIS man."
Literally the exact moment these paragraphs started you immediately understand what makes Sophia Hess Sophia Hess.
She shook her head to clear it, getting back to work. It didn't take long to find out that BrokenWindow was a girl named Sophia Hess, attending Winslow – oof, no one deserved that – alongside Emma and Taylor. Only, the contact was before they had actually begun high school. And Sophia was… to put it delicately, not exactly in the same social class as Emma.
The return of the revenge of "Fuck Winslow, all my homies hate Winslow."
Crystal saying that with complete awareness of her girlfriend's little sister being in that school already just adds a little. A Little.
So, there was a suspicious time window, and a new friend Emma would not normally have encountered. It was possible they'd met at the library or something… but if so, why would it be in that dead period? Surely if Emma was well enough to go to the library, she was well enough to post on WhoZoo.
Something here stunk to high heaven, and she was going to figure out what.
Like. The
way this leads somewhere obvious. But it leads somewhere terrible. Which is not the precise shape of it, but like. It's still pretty bad.
Really really hope Crystal drops the "mind control" hypothesis before she gets close enough to the truth to make this go uglier.
Across the city, tucked away in the basement of a restaurant, masquerading as food storage, there was a small room. It was not an ornate room, its furnishings simple in appearance, but a practiced eye would know that each item within it had been hand-crafted by a master. Each inch of the "simple" room was placed with deliberate care, presentation considered down to the square inch.
The man who sat at the end of the table within was much the same. A tall Asian man, he wore a well-fitted gray suit, with a red shirt beneath it. Symbolism was chosen with care, of course – to his people, the gray would mean he was calm and composed, yet humble and not arrogant. He cared for his people, and did not lord his power over them more than was necessary. To the Americans, it would communicate a lack of originality, a focus on dull efficiency. To his people, the akani red symbolized peace, protection from evil, strength, and power. To the Americans, it communicated anger, passion, power. Such was the duality he chose to convey: a protector to his people, and a leashed mad dog to others. Lung, the Dragon of Brockton Bay.
And yet, the man named Kenta brooded and waited, thinking of times gone by, of dreams left choking in the dust.
Oh hey.
I see you've decided to start the fuck up with Lung!
This scene setter, the dichotomy of what gray and red mean in different cultures, and how Lung plays it deliberately, makes a visible choice to appear an undisciplined animal to the people who would have anyway, but then strips that away to call attention to
Kenta being a disheartened remnant of his ideals...Man oh man.
Suddenly I'm instantly curious of what his interaction with another red dragon will be like.
Once upon a time, he had desired to be seen as more than simply a villain, a great monster defending its territory. He had believed if his foes respected him, respected his people, there could be common ground. Perhaps even peace, bought not with blood but with words.
He was a younger man, then, naive and foolish. He had welded the Asian gangs of the city into a united force, stood tall, and resisted the greatest efforts to remove him that the others could muster. The mad dogs, the Teeth, had been driven out. The Forgotten were consigned to the dustbin of history. And then, far from improving, the city degenerated. The Marche, his only foe worthy of respect, and who respected him in turn, had been defeated, as the "Brockton Bay Brigade" showed their hand: either they were cowards, too weak to stand their ground against the Empire; fools, too short-sighted to recognize the balance they were breaking, and the sort of evil the Marquis had held in check; or sympathizers, conveniently moving the pieces into place for their compatriots to seize greater control of the city. The Watch, pathetic wastes of breath that they were, had turned from community defense to "community defense," protection rackets, coupled with racism only somewhat shy of the Empire's own.
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I knew ACAE was going for "Hey What The Fuck New Wave", but ACAE is
really going for "
Hey What The FUCK New Wave."
This story has a really consistent thread of 'are you fighting Empire 88 or are you
not fighting Empire 88' when it comes to measuring the forces in Brockton Bay, but it's fascinating to realize Kenta holds a grudge against New Wave (as the BBB, in the same chapter Crystal brings up its legacy in her mother's advice at that) for taking out Marquis without having a grasp on where the status quo would shift after.
NTP is really good at POVs that nuanced even when incorrect, so I'm looking forward to where other perspectives will skew these points, but until then, boy is this, depressing.
Those that remained would never see him as worthy of respect, never see his community as anything but inferior. And so, he would allow them to see the ravening beast they wanted to. His people knew better. The Empire would be loath to confront him, and would underestimate him when they did. The Protectorate would be wary of facing him, afraid of his reprisal and afraid of losing access to Colloid's more precious creations.
Man.
Man.
Footsteps on the stairs down reached Lung's ears, far sharper than an ordinary human's. Good. They were on time.
Despite their fear of him, the Empire had made their most blatant provocation in years. Low-level conflict was constant, certainly, but a well-coordinated, synchronized assault on one of their warehouses was a significant escalation. Their diversion of the Protectorate meant that this was not only planned, but important. And it had been one of their most valuable sites, holding a great deal of Colloid's supplies and several of his most precious finished products. Worth far more than their weight in gold, the financial blow was severe. If they had not known the contents of the site, it would have been a strange provocation, one that could not possibly have been worth the costs. If they did know… then why would they provoke his ire so directly? Was there some plan afoot, or had Kaiser simply taken leave of what senses he possessed?
This is, referencing the dock fight with Glory Girl and Laserdream, I think? Specifically the fight with Munsin being "their diversion of the Protectorate," which has, concerning implications.
The fight where Faultline's Crew had been hired to back up Empire, with Fu Hua implicitly being around, it's suggestive of what's giving Empire the leverage to ramp up like this, but whose goals are that for?
Whatever the truth, blind retaliation would be playing into their hands. In a full-on war, for all the power of his lieutenants, they would lose. On a tactical scale, perhaps not – the Empire would need their strongest capes to have a chance of defeating him before his transformation proceeded far enough, Oni Lee was near-impossible to pin down and could (in theory) kill nearly anyone, and Munsin brought incredible flexibility to the table – but on a strategic level, they were simply too outnumbered. No, their retaliation – and there would be retaliation, for even if he had been, unthinkably, of a mind to let the assault pass, failing to strike back he would be betraying his promises and risking the loyalty of his men – would be precise and carefully executed.
For that, he needed his lieutenants to do as he instructed. Anything else risked upsetting the timetable, forcing them to delay Friday's attack.
Again, this numbers game comes up, that however much a threat anyone else in the city is, E88 will always have the size advantage, well funded and allowed to grow like mold.
Kenta's a man of promises.
He straightened from his partial slouch, putting shoulders up and back. He planted his feet on the ground and rested his arms on the table, bracketing his papers.
And when the door opened, he was not a man called Kenta, a lonely campfire in a sea of ashes, carefully shielded from the wind and rain. He was Lung, the dragon, and he bore flame enough to burn the sea itself.
Man he didn't even fight Leviathan in this timeline, but still, still Lung's a firestorm that can face an Endbringer.
I like that, that last line punches your lights out.
Vicky wasn't sure what to think about the neighborhood her classmates lived in. She'd had to get the address from Aunt Sarah – Amy was useless when it came to maps or directions – but it hadn't been too hard to find a place she could walk from, without just dropping down from the sky above their house. Setting aside that spooking parahumans with unknown powers was probably a bad idea, no matter how nice they seemed, Aunt Sarah had made sure since she triggered that she knew not to draw that kind of attention to anyone who hadn't already opted-in. Most people might not look up, but all it took was one cellphone video and a media frenzy was basically guaranteed.
Everytime a New Wave kid talks about their complete awareness of public scrutiny they can never escape I tick off a counter.
Do not ask me what will happen when the counter reaches its limit.
Also I can't remember if anyone actually told Vicky that the Nagazora Trio are Parahumans (Amy
mostly sticks to her doctor-patient confidentiality thing), so she just picked it up like obvious as that. Hahahahahahahaha.
That meant she got a good, ground-eye view of the place, and… it seemed nice enough? Aunt Sarah had told her it was ABB-affiliated, and the map from a few months ago agreed, but, while it was run-down, the streets were clean and the homes generally appeared well-cared-for. If the handful of people she could see on porches were anything to judge by, it was also surprisingly multi-racial. It still felt off to her, though. It was a weekday afternoon, and there were people sitting around at home. Shouldn't they be at work?
The way she's legitimately clever, and yet sooooooo. Fucking know nothing.
Vicky Amy and Crystal are good eggs, but if they'll ever stop being well off white people about the realities of the city they patrol, man.
Dismissing her confusion, she rang the doorbell. Hopefully Mei hadn't decided to go out for the day, and she'd made the trip for nothing.
Seconds passed. She tapped her foot impatiently. Finally, she heard movement inside, and the door opened with a loud 'click,' revealing Mei in the doorway, dressed in simple jeans and an old t-shirt. Which she pulled off unfairly well, what the hell?
Vicky: Mei is so, Goddamn in everything.
Kiana: I knooooooow.
Vicky: Don't you get jealous?
Kiana:
Kiana: The reality you imagine where I'm not on my knees in gratitude everyday is too horrifying to imagine.
"Oh, Victo- Vicky," Mei corrected herself before Vicky could do more than begin to frown. "Come in," she said, stepping aside. "Would you like something to drink?"
"I wouldn't mind some water, if it's not too big a deal," she answered, stepping inside and closing the (oddly heavy) door behind her. Her shoes came off a moment later, as she saw the rows of them by the door. Her socks were, unfortunately, plain and thoroughly boring. If she'd known, she'd have worn one of her cute pairs!
NTP you are
really good at these minute parallels, with just like, the shoe bit:
"Oh, shoes off please," Mei asked, gesturing at a neat pair of shelves with shoes on them as she removed her own. "You don't need slippers, though."
"Uh, okay?" Amy took her shoes off. A shoes-off house she supposed she understood, strange as it was, but why would she need slippers?
Demonstrating how instant and easily Vicky keeps track of implicit social nuance compared to her sister, and focuses more on mild vanity instead of getting hung up on why people do this and that, which hones to her strengths and weaknesses beyond the fun character fluff.
Mei and Bronya are not in used Vicky and Amy's preference for informal diminutives, but they're learning as they go, it's nice.
The home itself was… well, her first instinct was to say that it was decorated chaotically and with no apparent care for placement, but that wasn't actually true. The items on the walls were bizarrely wide-ranging, from muted traditional Japanese-looking paintings to a bewildering assortment of colorful HOMU posters to monochrome calligraphy scrolls, with a way too expensive for the neighborhood entertainment center on one wall and an almost altar-looking thing with photos above it on the other. But the actual arrangement of those items was… kind of artful, actually, with a careful eye to not overwhelm the onlooker. It was still kind of horrifying, honestly, but… whoever actually arranged this had done a hell of a job, given what they had to work with.
She glanced around, taking it in as they entered the living room. There was a faint chemical smell she didn't recognize, a little bit like some of the cleaners they used at the hospital. Some off-brand cleaning product, probably. Bronya was on the couch, a controller Amy couldn't quite identify in her hands (not that she was any sort of expert), facing a large flat-screen television inset into an entertainment center. Whatever she was playing was loud, filled with explosions and the clanging of metal. A hoodie, too big to be Bronya's – such a hoodie would devour the girl whole and still have room for dessert – and too bright to be Mei's, laid over the arm of the couch. A few ancient textbooks – they had to be Kiana's, Arcadia's were actually up to date – were piled precariously against one wall.
Aside from the gratuitous television, the decoration was low budget, and… well, eclectic would be the diplomatic way to put it. And she was visiting their home, so she'd be diplomatic, and not use any of the other applicable words. Posters featuring some sort of rabbit-eared cartoon creature were intermixed with those old-style Japanese paintings and the occasional calligraphy-looking scroll, forming a bizarre, almost whiplash-inducing lack-of-style.
Photographs were concentrated in one location, above a small standing table with three wooden boxes on it.
Vicky continuing to have better taste than her sister.
Actually it really is, Super interesting how Vicky's less hesitant to have opinions but is also more fair-minded and aware of the finer details (such as the flatscreen being Way pricey for the neighborhood budget and the photo collection being an implicit memorial).
"is something wrong?" Mei asked, and the blonde almost jumped out of her skin.
"Ack! Err, I mean, what? Sorry, was distracted–oh by the way I brought your clothes," Vicky hefted the bag, desperately hoping to deflect from her faux pas.
So much butterfingers for that observational competence.
"Ah! Thank you," Mei smiled and exchanged the bag for a glass of water, depositing the bag by the couch. "Did you ah…" she paused. "...have a good patrol? I heard some sort of fight happened, but you look well?"
"Did you have a good patrol" is a fitting rival.
Vicky grinned. "Running on pure caffeine right now and I need to get a new phone 'cause some dumb monkey broke mine but otherwise right as rain! Honestly thank god we don't have school today, though, I think class would knock me right out."
"I'm happy to hear that." Mei smiled again. "You did pick up Amy earlier in the morning, correct?"
Man being reminded that the timeframe of this story is like. Microscopic. Is so wild.
Kiana is becoming a superhero('s sidekick) right this moment.
"Yup! My cousin woke me up way too fuckin' early so I could do that, but always happy to go out on a limb for Ames." Vicky grinned. "Actually…"
"Actually?" Mei tilted her head.
"Well… Amy wasn't very talkative about how it went. And, since she's hanging out with two unknown parahumans…" Mei's eyes widened, and she tensed up, but Victoria kept herself casual, waving dismissively. "I don't know who you two are and don't want to. You're not a Nazi, and there are Unwritten Rules, you know?"
Mei frowned, relaxing fractionally. "I'm afraid I don't know, sorry."
Vicky winced. "Girl… okay, this isn't gonna stand." She lowered her voice dramatically. "I am afraid I have… no choice."
Mei's slight relaxation vanished like it had never been, and something inside Vicky screamed at her, like she had just stepped on a land mine and if she moved wrong it would explode. Her force field tingled, like that one time she'd flown into a thunderstorm. Conveniently, though, she was explosion proof!
"I must subject you to… Victoria Dallon's Cape 101 Primer!"
"What."
Victoria Dallon you Stupid Motherfucker.
You're not explosion proof enough not to be eaten by a Lightning God Endbringer you MORON.
My god she Actually walked into a house full of Parahumans (who
nobody told her were Parahumans) and just started to, do this.
Like a buffoon.
SHE IS GOING TO GIVE MEI TERRIBLE IDIOT ADVICE THIS.
THIS.
"You're not a Nazi so all sins are forgivable"
THIS CONTINUES TO BE WHAT EVERYONE SAYS IT'S AMAZING THIS UNITY IS BREATHTAKING.
Crystal let out a deep sigh as she closed the last social media tab. It had been a trial to sort through all the social media accounts involved, even skimming over them. Still, she'd managed to assemble something of a web and a timeline, post-it notes spread across the board. Digital post-its on a digital board, of course. Why write it down when you could type it out?
Crystal you're gonna get gotten by hackers.
Literally there are two super hackers already involved in this story and they are the ones you should be the LEAST worried about that.
Truly, truly every time you can give the intelligence of a New Wave Cape any faith they will immediately flush it down a toliet.
The surface picture, presented to the world, was simple. Emma had been liked, but a bit of a wallflower in middle school, and her closest friend was Taylor Hebert. When Taylor's dad had died, Emma's public messages to her ticked up at first, but Taylor became progressively less active on WhoZoo. Eventually it returned to the pre-death 'normal,' just in time for the summer before they entered high school. In the late summer, Taylor had gone to camp, and during that window Emma just… went dark. Whatever happened, after a bit more than a week she made her ViaParty account, immediately getting in contact with Sophia Hess. Sophia's interests seemed to be animal fun facts, political cynicism – Shouting other people's pessimistic anti-establishment libertarian messages to boost them and the like–and those Cape-collector mobile games. She didn't get into personal stuff directly on that account, but it had been fairly easy to backtrack her regardless; either she was bad at identity compartmentalization or didn't care much about it. Emma's own content trended steadily in those directions as time went on, but not in a genuinely suspicious way.
I think this is the most. Like.
Sophia's interests seemed to be animal fun facts, political cynicism – Shouting other people's pessimistic anti-establishment libertarian messages to boost them and the like–and those Cape-collector mobile games.
I'm actually almost offended by how endearing this is.
She likes animal facts and Cape mobage.
God.
Just stupid kids who brought out the worst in each other.
After Taylor returned from her camp, during Emma's 'dead zone,' she tried to get in touch. Posts on her Visitor Book piled up. Questions about how Emma was, asking what was wrong, why her parents said she didn't want to see her. Emma returned to WhoZoo, and started to respond to Taylor's small talk, but just deflected or ignored more serious questions. Then, the school year at Winslow started, and things fell apart. Emma added Sophia on WhoZoo – and Crystal had immediately added "HIDING PRIOR ACQUAINTANCE?" in big red letters to that note, because there was no way that timing was accidental – and, seemingly, dropped Taylor like a hot potato. WhoZoo communication between them fell off a cliff there. After that, Emma and Sophia developed their own little posse, first Madison Clements – and there was a name she recognized, they'd met at a charity event, where she and Emma had been thick as thieves.
That pattern continued – those three as the queen bees of the school, like some demented Mean Girls routine – and Taylor never seemed to bounce back. Whatever happened, whatever she did, it wasn't on social media. And she certainly didn't seem to get any new friends at Winslow – at this point, she hadn't had any account activity in months. If Anne's information was right, they were bullying her at school, but smart enough to keep it off of social media.
And then, you know, all this.
All this bullshit.
And then, on Monday, something happened. Taylor ended up in the hospital, due to something apparently bio-hazardous and bad enough that the injuries left Amy unsettled. Madison hadn't posted since that day. The next evening, Emma also stopped posting – judging by the time, about when the fight had happened – and Sophia's Visitor Book had been set to approval-only.
There were, she figured, two key events. Whatever had happened during Emma's "dead period" – she really needed a better name for that – and the events of this week. The key elements there were, of course, Emma, Sophia, and Taylor. In the first window, Taylor had been gone, Emma met Sophia despite their vastly different backgrounds, and Emma started distancing herself from Taylor. In the second, Emma and Sophia had… attacked Taylor, maybe? Crystal frowned. She didn't like the lack of clarity there. It would help if she knew what had happened, but she didn't actually know anyone at Winslow. She'd tried PHO, given the Parahuman involvement, but the mods were taking a hardline approach there and not allowing any details to be discussed.
Can't deny it, Crystal isn't a half-bad detective.
Like it's a horrifying reminder of how thin digital privacy was even ten years ago (almost
exactly a decade from now to the fic's timeline, isn't that funny!), but still, she Columbo'd this shit.
To get more information, she'd have to ask the randos on PHO who kept getting banned what had happened (easy to do, awful signal to noise ratio), get in touch with the PRT investigation (as if they'd just hand over the documents when asked nicely), or start showing up and asking people pointed questions (...not likely to go well). None of those were compelling choices.
So, if the present was a dead end for now, what did she know about the past? Well, she'd already checked for major cape or gang activity and found nothing. Which meant, if there was anything reported…
She picked up her phone, dialing it without looking. It was answered on the second ring.
"Hey mom."
Unfair advantage to every great detective before her, but if Sherlock Holmes could call his mother to cheat, I'm certain he would.
Her mom sighed. "I'm in the middle of something, but I know that tone. Jump to what you're going to ask for."
Crystal winced. Was she that obvious? "Uh… could I get a copy of the miscellaneous reports for August 2011?"
"Those aren't sensitive, and you're cleared. You can do that whenever you want." A pause. "Wait a moment. Why do you want the miscellaneous reports, and for the year before last?"
Crystal winced. "A, uh… a friend has a bad feeling about something that happened back then, and I want to check if there's anything in there?"
"Remember, those files are not to be shared. You have clearance, your friends do not."
She sighed. "Yes, mom, I know."
Owned.
"Good." A pause. "A friend, hm? A school friend?"
"...yyyes?" Crystal drew the word out, uncertain where this was going.
"Well, be careful. And we'll have some questions for you sooner, rather than later."
"...questions?" Crystal's stomach dropped. She was trustworthy, and her mom knew that! She wouldn't be doing anything reckless.
"Yep. When you'll be asking Anne over, what she likes for dinner, whether she'll be staying the night, you know. The works."
Wait.
DOUBLE OWNED.
"Hey, I never said it was Anne!"
"Sweetie, I'm not blind. You make moon eyes whenever you get a text from her."
"I do not!" she retorted, and definitely not pouting.
Her mom laughed. "Well, have fun. Oh, and I meant it about being careful! Make sure to use protection!"
The call clicked off.
She sat in her chair for a long moment, trying to process what had just happened.
Well. That was uh… well. She had, um, investigation to do. Yes. That was it. Focus on investigation, not on the impending doom.
…it wasn't going to be a long enough day, was it?
Crystal has spent this entire story carefully defensive on what her family will think about her being gay and literally no one doesn't know.
This is so fucking funny.
"...and I think that's everything." Vicky grinned, rotating the sheet of paper she had been writing on around. "Any questions?"
Mei looked down at the paper. "...I thought they were supposed to be unwritten?" she asked, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
Vicky snorted. "I had the same question. Just about everyone does. Never did find out who came up with that name." She smiled. If Mei was willing to joke, she must be warming up to her!
You're very lucky Mei will never be immune to dumbasses Vicky.
God. Writing down the unwritten rules.
Such a responsible dumbass.
"Really though, did I miss something? Anything confusing?"
Mei's eyes went serious again, and she sighed into her cup of tea. "Alright. I understand this Unwritten Rules idea – keep civilian identities out of it, don't use them if you learn them, or things turn into more of a bloodbath than they already are."
Vicky nodded.
"But…" Mei hesitated for a moment. "Why do you care? You're unmasked already, your whole family is. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain from the rules falling apart."
Vicky sighed. "Our unmasking got my Aunt Jess – Fleur – killed. An Empire kid shot her in broad daylight, hoping to get himself initiated."
Mei's eyes widened. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said, after a long moment, and Vicky could hear the grief in her voice. She must have lost someone important to her too, Vicky realized. "I didn't know."
Vicky shook her head. "Lot of people don't know these days. But, point is… I never had a choice; it's too late for me. Besides, I'm invulnerable. I don't have to be afraid of some jackass with a gun." Well… unless they stagger their shots. But she wasn't going to share that weakness of her force field, no matter how nice the girl seemed. "But… my friends aren't. Most capes aren't. I don't want anyone else to go through what we did."
The way Vicky just. Walked in here. But also completely doesn't believe in the premise of her family superhero team.
She's so. Man.
Also I'm sorry to say Vicky it isn't gonna matter if Mei knows about your weakness if you piss her off, a thunderbolt from god is just gonna evaporate you.
Luckily you're Straight Kiana, and Mei loves all Kianas no matter their flaws.
"I understand. Thank you. That compassion does you credit."
"Relatedly," Vicky said, moving right along from that, "Ames. I don't mean this as a threat, but if something bad happens to her, some moron kidnapping her, hurting her, that sort of thing… half the country is going to drop on the perp. PRT, independents, even some villains. And if it happens while she's with you, odds are you're going to be in the crosshairs."
"I assure you–"
"Relax, Mei, it's not a threat. Just a warning to keep her safe, and not let any crap that follows you two spill over onto her. No one wants that. Not you, not her, not me."
Mei: You know you're a very kind–
Vicky: Ahahaha enough of that, I'd like you to know what I say next isn't the shovel talk, but if it might be
construed as that–
Vicky is such a protective adopted sister.
Mei was silent for a moment, frowning. "Excuse me. You are speaking as if she is likely to be spending more time with us in the future. Am I misunderstanding something?"
"Nah." Vicky smiled and stood up, heading for the door. Mei hurriedly rose to follow her. "Amy seems to like and trust you guys. I'd be a terrible sister if I didn't encourage her friendships."
"Wait, wouldn't you want her to
not be around us in that case?"
"Oh no, I would kill someone if that happened, and you wouldn't be the first choice."
And it was going to happen. There was no way she was going to let Amy waste this opportunity and slip back into her funk. If it was friends, good. If it was a girlfriend, better.
She paused as she opened the door, realizing she'd forgotten to say something important. "Oh, but one last thing!" She smiled brightly as she stepped onto the porch, turning back towards Mei. "If one of you breaks her heart, they'll never find the body." Mei blinked. "So be good to her, okay? She deserves it."
She turned on her heel and left, smiling all the way.
No one got to fuck with her sister.
"But you know, you're
still a choice–"
Vicky you're a very loving person but you're gonna get your ass beat by a Herrscher at this rate.
Please do not taunt the multiple Herrschers you volunteered for girlfriend duty.
"I'm sorry Vicky but while the three of us are useless lesbians, we are all taken as well. Your warning is unnecessary."
Sadly, Mei is too polite to properly express just how far into unseen crevices of her being Vicky should stuff her shovel talks.
I weep at the loss.
Mei: How do I explain I have an unofficial committed marriage that I don't intend to consummate but will always remain loyal to?
HoT: (If that nerd looks at my woman I'm gonna split the difference and both their spines.)
Mei: Shush.
Kiana: I have two arms for as many beautiful women who want to jump into them.
Mei: Kiana.
Kiana: With Mei's approval.
Bronya: Message unclear, mission to save wife from interdimensional imprisonment is higher priority.
Vicky: ...My sister can pull these babes, with god as my witness.
Amy:
Vicky I swear if you don't shut your whore mouth–
It's so funny literally no one asked for this responsibility, three lightning apocalypse fugitives decided to be nice to a girl and Power Girl Mini dropped in to say "if you don't clap and cheer for the world's specialest sister I'm gonna blow up the building."\
...Yeah, I'll fucking say. Shit, don't even worry about the two Herrschers. You really don't want to trigger Bronya's threat response.
...Girl, you are not as explosion proof here as you think. You are standing in the same room as a goddamn Herrscher.
Literally everyone is "Oh boy Vicky thinks she gets to start shit" and that's why I respect you all.
FWIW, I'm cutting the explicit "predator/prey" thing; she'll use animal analogies here and there but that's bc she loves Animal Planet. The general vibe is there, but that particular bit was kind of fandom exaggeration in the first place.
I'm so happy you did the Animal Planet thing it's literally so charming.
