Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)
- Thread starter LordRoustabout
- Start date
- Location
- spain
Honestly, I'd love for the story to elaborate on exactly how Garment's working with the colors. I mean, when designing, it's not only the colors that matter; there's also the matters of shape, fit, accessories... If I were to work with said colors, it wouldn't just matter how they "really" look; it would add a completely new, different dimension to the clothes, knowing just how the colors affect the perception of the viewer.
It's... well, okay. To a certain extent, designers already have to take it into account; the same exact dress in black or yellow, plain or pattered, gives completely different "feel" to a piece of clothing. But I'd really like to see how Garment will raise to the ocassion of working with such potent effects, even with her Light element; how would you craft a design that will make you forget it?
- Location
- A big rock
What I want to know is how she's going to explain the pigments. Either she doesn't debut these designs at her fashion show, or she does and she either lies and gets an increased tinker rating and a potential peace offering for sabah or she tells the sort of truth and people learn that aperion gave garment mind and reality warping dye, which totally won't have super fun consequences. Either way, I would imagine that for colors that make you forget about them, you could use it to great effect for transforming costumes, or as a way to effectively draw attention towards certain parts of an outfit and away from others.
- Location
- spain
*Gasp* Magical girl transformations for EVERYONE
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Well given mundane Color Psychology and how the Peligin was outlined in Apocyan I have to assume that she was going for the wearer symbolizing hidden potential within the context of a hopeful future. Very much the sort of suit that a politician would be desperate to wear.
I also should think that some Cosmogone could be accented with a bit of Viric, Violent, and even a touch of Gant, to act as a vicious mockery of nostalgia. Maybe with the slightest touch of Irrigo so that it's only mocking in hindsight? Blocking ones awareness of how sarcastic the inspiration of nostalgia was until one looked away and that optimism was thrown into sharp relief?
It might be interesting to make dance costumes/uniforms that make one forget about the order of the movements that one took while firmly embedding the memory of each individual movement into ones mind to give interesting impressions of, or rather via, performance. Like art in motion without the motion.
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Siblings (AmberSlime)
Siblings
"Er... Joe?"I looked up from my plans for Aisha's modifications to see her looking... contrite? That was odd. I spun my chair around to face her. "Yeah, Aisha? What's up?"
"I, um... er..." Aisha took a deep breath. "Brian'smybrother!"
It took me a moment to parse the words, and a moment longer to realize exactly why she looked so bothered. "'Brian' as in..."
"Grue, yes. From the Undersiders. That Brian." Irritation colored Aisha's expression for a moment before it faded away. "I just... I dunno, I figured it was gonna come out eventually, but then I thought that I really should tell you now--"
"Woah now, hold on," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "Let's take this from the top, alright? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Aisha fidgeted and squirmed in place, grabbing at her arms and clothes, tugging and twirling locks of hair. "I-I thought it was funny, at first. That you didn't realize we were related." Something must have shown on my face because Aisha leveled a frustrated look at me. "We've got the same last name, Joe! Y'know, 'Laborn'? Aisha and Brian Laborn, daughter and son of Marcus Laborn, who teaches boxing at that gym you go to?"
Aisha glared at me for a few moments as I got my thoughts in order. "I've... never actually heard Brian's last name before now," I admitted, which only made Aisha growl in frustration and throw her hands up in the air.
"Aaargh! Look, look, we're getting off topic." Aisha took a few deep breaths, and her irritation soon gave way to nervousness once again. "I thought it was funny that you didn't realize at first. Brian doesn't know I'm a cape, and I figured seeing his face as I revealed I was a member of the Celestial freakin' Forge would be the best thing I'd see all year."
"And what changed?" I asked.
"I... I dunno!" Aisha began to pace, clearly trying to get her thoughts in order. I let her. "I-I thought you'd get all disappointed with me," she admitted. "I... thinking about that... I didn't like it at all."
"So then I started thinking that I should tell you, but then you'd probably tell Brian, and he'd start raising a fuss about how I'm putting myself in danger and how he's there to protect me, and all of that shit, and-- and dad might find out, and I really don't want to deal with that fuckin' can of worms, and-- and--"
I pressed down on Aisha's shoulders. "Breathe, Aisha, breathe." I signaled Fleet and my Duplicates, and Fleet arrived soon after with a steaming kettle full of tea and some cups. I poured tea for both of us and handed Aisha her cup. She took a sip, cradling the masterwork china in her hands. They were trembling, just a little.
"If it helps you out any, now was probably the best time you could've picked to bring this all up," I said after taking a sip of my own. "The city is... calm enough, at the moment."
"E-Even with the Butcher?"
I nodded. "Even then. It's not like I'm currently trying to fight her to the death or anything. Call it the calm before the storm if you want, but it's still calm, and that's kind of what matters here. Of course, I would have preferred if you brought this up sooner, but... well, the Unwritten Rules and all. It's not like I said you had to disclose any parahuman relations if you wanted to join up."
Aisha winced and took another sip of tea.
I sighed. Good grief, I seem to have a penchant for dealing with troubled teenage parahumans. "So, what do you want to do now, exactly? Do you want to tell Brian?" Aisha's eyes widened, and she gripped her cup a little tighter. "Do you want me to tell Brian?"
"I... could you?" Aisha asked, rubbing a thumb against her cup. "Tell him, that is? Set up a meeting or something? I'm worried I'll screw somethin' up somehow."
"Of course, Aisha." I could see the tension fall away from the poor girl. In more ways than just visually, too. "I'll give him a call. Go on and... try to relax, I guess. Have some more tea," I suggested, handing her the kettle.
As Aisha walked off, I spun back around to face my blueprints. No time like the present, as they say. I called Brian, and the holographic video screen appeared in front of me. A few moments later, he picked up.
"Joe?"
"Hey, Brian. I've got something I need to tell you..."
The End.
Okay, so something borked with Sufficient Velocity, and it means that you might not be able to see the other omake by me on this page if you're using the navigation arrows down in the lower right corner by "Apocrypha." To solve that, here's a quote that'll lead you to that other omake.
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ExploerTM
Ruin has found you at last!
- Location
- Russia, Perm
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Honestly, I feel like that would be it. Joe really doesnt like to peek into others personal life and I doubt he will hold it against Aisha. Everyone have their own secrets and Joe understands that. Aisha being scared of telling it Joe is understandable but she essentially makes elephant out of fly. Well, okay, out of pigeon, tops.
- Location
- Isekai'd to this shitty world we're live in
Something just came to me yesterday.
So far, Joe didn't really get any advanced vehicle, so he had no chance of getting this before. When he'll finally get that Gladius-class corvette, wouldn't the onboard computers contain star maps, a list of human planets maybe with populations, as well as a list of all the known classes of Covenant ships and craft? It is after all a patrol/escort ship, with advanced long-range sensors, so it needs that data. A new source of information for Survey.
So far, Joe didn't really get any advanced vehicle, so he had no chance of getting this before. When he'll finally get that Gladius-class corvette, wouldn't the onboard computers contain star maps, a list of human planets maybe with populations, as well as a list of all the known classes of Covenant ships and craft? It is after all a patrol/escort ship, with advanced long-range sensors, so it needs that data. A new source of information for Survey.
- Location
- A big rock
A new source for the vehicle simulator you mean. Snatching the specs for a forerunner ship would get a lot easier using any info contained within the ship and the simulator in tandem with a working example of a slipspace drive.
Doesn't Aisha have like, a fuckton of dresses and other more average clothing now, courtesy of Garment just giving them to her and her dad back when she started interning at her store (or whatever it was)?
- Location
- Philippines
Yeah, but they were still themed for the Aisha of the time. The clothes of a girl wanting to look more mature and independent, except without looking like she slid off a risque magazine. And even then, Aisha intentionally started going for ones with more skin exposure once her dad complimented her for what she was wearing, remember? Of course being Garment's work, it was still leagues ahead of what she was previously wearing.
But looking more mature is still a very different feel from actually getting effective years of education and socialization basically overnight. It's more than just becoming more capable; Aisha's still not an adult, but if she was precocious before, now she actually knows and understands what is going on around her. At this point, it's been repeatedly hammered home to her the importance of patience and responsibility - a far cry from the girl who broke into an ABB office building and nearly got herself killed in the process.
And Garment being Garment, her charity gala will definitely be able to express that difference for Aisha when the time comes. And you bet that if Aisha's family was stupefied before, what will happen then is a whole new level.
Somehow, Baking for Charity Causes Issues (AmberSlime)
Somehow, Baking for Charity Causes Issues
"Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!" Called the Town Crier, waving his bell up and down. He stood in the center of the boardwalk, crying the day's news for all to hear, even the passing Wards and Protectorate members. "The mighty Apeiron, the Enigmatic Artificer, Biggest Cheese of the Celestial Forge, has opened a bakery! To hear the man himself say it, all proceeds shall go to charity 'because it isn't like I need mortal currency.' He then proceeded to put several rolls of quarters into a pickle jar!"One of the passing Wards collapsed to the ground, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. She was clearly in awe of the Town Crier's crying. A warm feeling filled his chest as he saw everybody's reaction to his words. His life was good.
"Alright, Joe, I can understand this whole idea," began Lethe, futzing with the apron tied over her power armor. "The economic side, the social side, all that stuff. My one question is: Why are we doing this in costume?"
"Oh, that's pretty simple, actually," called Joe from the back, which was completely cut off from the rest of the bakery and loaded with as much anti-thinker and anti-stranger tech Joe could bring to bear. "See, I had Survey do some research, and apparently, the big issue with most S-Class threats is the isolation, the perceived lack of humanity. People don't see Sleeper, Nilbog, The Three Blasphemies, and Jack Slash as human. Therefore, to avoid the big stigma with S-Class Threats, I've decided to open this bakery!"
"Ah. Alright. But why do I need to have my familiar out?"
"Hopefully, it'll make you less threatening! The duplicates and I have got to get back to the breadmaking, call me when the costumers start pouring in!"
"Will do!" Lethe then took the time to read over what she was to say to people coming in the door. She frowned in confusion, but that frown quickly turned into a cackle. "Oh-ho! I can have fun with this!"
"Lisa?" Taylor called, confusedly watching Lisa pull on her shoes. "Where are you going? In costume?" The rest of the Undersiders looked at the blonde woman pulling on her purple costume, before glancing amongst each other. There weren't any jobs planned, not any that they knew of.
"Joe, the blustering moron, decided to go and open a bakery," Lisa reported, sounding so very irritated. "Now I've gotta go and talk him out of it before he causes Armageddon."
"I'm sorry, how does opening a bakery put anybody at risk of Armageddon?"
"Shut the #### up and put your costume on, Regent. That goes for the rest of you, too. That incompetent isn't going to stop on his own."
"I really don't think we need to--"
"SHUT THE #### UP, REGENT!"
"Why is teeny space child so agitated?" Asked the PRT Agent with a really thick accent. Blake, also known as Browbeat, didn't know what accent it was. They were both standing over Vista, who was convulsing violently and frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal. Blake was pretty damn sure this sort of thing usually called for restraints of some kind, but nobody was raising a fuss, so maybe not?
"I... well, the Town Crier said that Apeiron was opening a bakery, giving all the proceeds to charity, and... something about mortal currency, I think."
The PRT Agent nodded. "Ah, yes. Jyehbrizh, Forgettable Panacea, your assistance is appreciated. I must go report this to those above."
"You're welcome."
Meanwhile, in the Darkest Reaches of Medhall!
"MMmmmm, Runey-dear?" Asked Damsel of Distress, who was staring at the Television with a loving expression.
Rune sighed. "Oh god, I'm too exhausted for this... Yes, Damsel?"
"I want bread."
"That's nice," Rune retorted, turning away from the Damsel of Distress-shaped hole in the wall in to find the television remote. She was really uncomfortable with how obsessed Damsel of Distress was... "But unfortunately, we can't go out for--" Rune whipped back around to face the Damsel of Distress-shaped hole in the wall. "Aw, nuts."
*Ding-a-ling!*
"Hiiii~! Welcome to Celestial Bakery, where the dough is out of this world~!"
Blasto paused momentarily, looking bewildered at the Celestial Forge's global-ranged Stranger, who had apparently grown Tapir ears, decided to speak in the cutest manner she could manage, and pose like she was a character from that one series, Web of Magic. Or was it Princess Gwynivere? He eventually offered the woman a hesitant nod and walked up to the counter, where the Celestial Forge's Thinker was stationed.
"Hi, yeah, could I get fifteen cinnamon rolls, three loafs of white bread, twenty loafs of cinnamon bread, thirty-two everything bagels, five nutmeg bagles, seven stroopwaffles, fifty-seven donuts, twelve croissants, the head of a bear dipped in smoked honey, and..." Blasto peered at the note he held in his hands, squinting. "A cupcake?"
"Certainly!" Chirped the unnaturally beautiful woman. "That'll be--"
The front wall of the bakery exploded. Out of the dust cloud walked the Damsel of Distress.
"MMMMMMMMMmmmm!"
"Aw, nuts." Proclaimed Blasto, as Damsel of Distress announced her intentions to slaughter hostages if Apeiron did not submit and become her personal breadslave or something along those lines. "The one time I don't bring the polyps..."
"The bakery is under attack!" Cried duplicate number one.
"They lay siege to our yeastery!" Proclaimed the other.
"Tybalt, would you handle this?" Asked Apeiron of his smaller, cat-like associate.
"Meow." answered Tybalt, as he loaded his magic shotgun with charged burstone rounds.
The Protectorate and the PRT worked together in perfect concert to cordon off the bakery. Armsmaster stepped as close as he dared, readying his megaphone. "This is the Protectorate East-North-East!" he cried. "Apeiron! Put down the hand mixer, renounce your bread-divinity, and come out with your hands up!"
"Wait, what about the hostage situation?" Assault whispered.
"I'm getting there, don't worry," Armsmaster replied, before turning the megaphone back on. "Damsel of Distress! This is the Protectorate East-North-East! Put down the hostages and come out with your hands up!"
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm!"
And then a very large explosion occurred.
"Oyez, oyez, oyez!" Called the Town Crier, waving his bell up and down. He stood in the center of the bombed-out wasteland that used to be the boardwalk, crying the day's news for all to hear, even the passing Wards and Protectorate members. "The mighty Apeiron, the Enigmatic Artificer, Hugest Kahuna of the Celestial Forge, has reported that his teammate Catastrophe has used an explosive shotgun round with a payload of two hundred megatons of TNT, or the equivalent of the 1883 Eruption of Krakatoa! The city as we know it has been utterly decimated and rendered uninhabitable! Apeiron, the Enigmatic Artificer, Largest and Manliest Large Man Upstairs of the Celestial Forge, has announced that he will rebuild the entire city at no cost to anybody! When asked to give a comment, he said 'it's not like I need mortal currency,' and then put several wallets full of hundred dollar bills into a pickle jar!"
One of the passing Wards collapsed to the ground, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. She was clearly in awe of the Town Crier's crying. A warm feeling filled his chest as he saw everybody's reaction to his words. His life was good.
The End.
Okay, so apparently something borked for Sufficient Velocity, long story short it means that little back arrow down by "Apocrypha" won't take you to the other Omake by me on this page, Siblings, so... here's a quote that'll lead you there.
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ExploerTM
Ruin has found you at last!
- Location
- Russia, Perm
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
I cant help but imagine Joe casually saying this, freezing up for a second then conjuring jar out of thin air and starting aggressively showing rolled banknotes in it hissing curses meanwhile
oh he totally would. and then he would just refuse to address it if anybody asked him about it.
Inaccurate. The town crier doesn't get shovels thrown at his head by Tybalt's resurrected javelin throwers for getting his cape name wrong.
- Location
- A big rock
He'd summon a pair of pants along with the Jar and just start grabbing overflowing handfuls of quarters out of his new pockets, and just keep doing it until the jar was overflowing with quarters, and they where just pouring out of his pants, forming puddles of coins. Then he would vanish it all and never speak of it again.
MagicalAmbitions
the rose in your vase
- Pronouns
- She/Her
it's best to treat all of wildbow's wog statements as unreliable author shenanigans - his interpretation of his works is but one of many, and prizing them above all others is weird author-worship bullshit.
An Intervention gives Joe one application that Power Overwhelming doesn't,
the ability to lure an Endbringer into his workshop and destroy it using otherwise conventional physics. Not conventional technology, though, more like "lethal dose of neutrino radiation" or "Endbringer-mass chunks of antimatter", Forge-enabled tech using a conventional physics payload.
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- Pronouns
- She/They
Depending on what exactly your definition of "conventional physics" is (read: does it include Quantum Physics or no) that might not count
- Location
- A big rock
I mean, you can kill an endbringer by hitting it with a fast enough rock, doesn't even need to be that fast. It's wog that a planet scouring hit would kill them, just not disintegrate them.
We've got a preamble-turned-interlude tonight. Apparently LR had a bit of trouble with writing the main body of the intended interlude, so he took the preamble and turned it into a mini-interlude.
76.1 Interlude Emma
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
(Author's Note: The planned interlude took longer than I intended, so I decided to post the chapter's preamble as a stand-alone half-interlude this week. Full interlude to come next week, returning to Joe after that.)
76.1 Interlude Emma
Emma looked around the clutter that had amassed in her room over the weekend. It had been years since she had something approaching a sleepover. Not since before that summer, before things with Taylor…
Anyway, this wasn't quite a sleepover. It wasn't like she would be doing anything so childish, but there were shades of that kind of thing. Shades too close for her liking, if she was being honest. Her mom didn't know about Sophia's situation. In her eyes, she was just a poor displaced girl needing a place to stay and some comfort from the horrors of the city.
That was the cause of all the juvenile indulgences they had been showered with. Snacks, soda, deserts, pizza and other types of takeout. Even the kinds of movies that they were both much too old for. Her mother had provided anything she thought might insulate them from what was happening out in the city.
As if she needed it. Emma wasn't the scared little girl who had been threatened by ABB thugs. She wasn't like Taylor, who shattered to pieces at the first sign of adversity. When she was challenged, she had fought back. She proved herself. She was strong. She was a predator.
In this city, in this world, that was what you needed to be. She had known that, taken the lesson to heart, but the last week had made it crystal clear, banishing any remaining doubts that she might have had. In fact, despite everything that had happened to the city, there was a freeing sensation that followed the resolution of the Ungodly Hour.
The ABB was gone. She still felt almost light-headed just thinking about it. Lung was dead and the gang's holdings were ravaged and broken. The last of their forces were being held in concentration camps in one of the parks while every business and criminal den in their territory had been cracked open. They would have been crippled even without the blackout field that cut their territory in half.
That field was the real reason Sophia was staying with her, not any of the excuses that had been spun for her mom. Sophia's house was on the outskirts of the blackout effect. Not close enough to lose power or fry electronics, but enough to block radio and cell phone signals. For most people it would be an inconvenience, but Sophia wasn't most people.
The Protectorate couldn't have their top Ward out of contact, not with the emergency measures that had been put in place. But more than that, there was the effect itself. It was another example of Apeiron's super technology, and something everyone had been struggling to understand. From what she knew they hadn't made much progress investigating the effect, with no real progress since Dragon and Armsmaster had managed to clear a small section of it. One thing was clear, from what had happened to Dauntless, Battery, and apparently Manpower, the field had interactions with cape powers related to electricity.
Shadow Stalker's weakness to electricity was one of her biggest secrets. Only known to her teammates, the highest levels of the Protectorate and PRT, and to her. Emma had been trusted with those secrets, so she knew why they were worried. Nobody wanted to find out what the field might do if Sophia tried to use her powers inside it. They were minimizing her contact, even to the edges of the effect. Thus, the need for another place to stay. She could have set up in the PRT headquarters, but with two visiting Wards and an agent from the Youth Guard that wasn't exactly appealing. All in all it had been fairly easy to make a case for Sophia to stay over for a few days.
It had annoyed her, seeing how happy Sophia's sister and brother were when they came to pick her up. Even her mom had a sense of relief to her when the girl left with a bag of clothes hiding her cape supplies inside. That treatment grated on Emma. They never respected what Sophia was doing, what it really represented, instead always focusing on their own petty gripes.
Not that Sophia ever complained. She was above that kind of thing, able to endure. It was what heroes did.
Even if she didn't look particularly heroic at the moment, laying on Emma's bed in her pajamas while flicking through an old fashion magazine.
"Isn't it kind of short notice for this kind of thing?" Sophia asked without looking up from her magazine.
"Yeah." Emma admitted as she glanced back at her laptop and skimmed over the email one more time. "But I don't think it's supposed to be a major event or anything. They're probably trying to do something to line up with the thing in New York." Sophia made a noncommittal noise as she turned a page. "Has anything come down from the Protectorate about this?"
The girl huffed, her eyes briefly flicking towards her Ward-issue phone on the dresser. "Nothing yet, but they've been sniffing around Garment since the moment she showed up. No way they'll pass up a chance like this. Just a question of how many people get roped into it."
"It won't be that bad." Emma said. There had been a handful of charity events she'd been able to attend where Sophia was also there, in costume. Sometimes she came as a guest, thanks to her father's connections, but a couple of times it was as a model for fashion shows and galas. There was always a thrill in having that secret connection with one of the heroes. That shift in the dynamic that the other guests or models could pick up on, not enough to precisely place, but enough to recognize the difference. It was something special, even beyond what you got with the major donors who attended every event they could. "I mean, it's Garment. She did a good job last time, right?"
"Sure, if you care about all that frou-frou stuff." She answered. There was a slightly bitter edge to her voice. "They were making a big deal about it to try to cover up how badly they were screwing up everywhere else. Not that it actually made a difference in the end."
But this might, Emma thought. It was the first charity event after the attacks, and that was important. Emma knew that wasn't an angle that Sophia would go for. The strong should stand on their own, not be propped up by other people. It helped if you looked at it from the other side. Not people who needed saving, a demonstration of how strong you were, what you could afford to do. Strong enough that it wasn't a burden.
"Besides, if she was serious she wouldn't be begging people to work for free." Sophia said, peering over at the email. "They just sent that out for anybody who would be willing to show up, right?" She teased, with that cruel edge to her voice she got sometimes.
"It's not like that." Emma said. Her modeling work might be entry level, but it wasn't like this was a public notice, something posted on a telephone pole or coffee shop bulletin board. The requests had gone through the city's agencies to her agency, who had picked and chosen who was contacted. They weren't just grabbing people off the street. "Besides, it's not a full fashion show. They don't have dedicated models, just wanted to confirm availability in case the designers have something to show off."
"What 'designers'? They got someone other than Garment?" Sophia asked.
Emma nodded. "Parian's involved, and a couple of department stores are looking into things. Well, 'involvement pending', but that probably just means they're arguing about how much credit they get and what kind of sponsorship they'll put forward."
"Figures. Parian's all about kiddy shows." She turned to Emma. "You're really going to do this? I thought you hated working for 'exposure'?"
Emma frowned. "I'm just putting my name in." She explained. "They'll get back if they have work for me. Plus, it's going to count as volunteer time, so I can get out of school."
Though it wasn't as if that was hard to do these days. Winslow was only just limping back to operation, and was close enough to the blackout zone that cell phones would be lucky to see a single bar. With the state of the city plenty of parents were holding off sending their kids back to school. Hell, even Taylor had managed to get a week's exemption for whatever made up injury she was claiming from the bombing. Actually, with the issues with her powers, Sophia probably could have gotten an excused absence until the blackout field cleared.
Normally that would mean more time to patrol, the kind of thing she would have jumped at, but things wouldn't be that easy after the other Wards screwed up their fight with the Undersiders. Not with a representative of the Youth Guard active in the department. Emma had sat through more rants about that woman than she could count. Any time Sophia got off from Winslow was going to be documented and have to be made up later, probably with the PRT tutors that she was always complaining about.
"And besides, it's not like I won't get anything out of it." Emma added as she navigated to another window in her browser. "Garment sent gift bags to the models who handled the outfits from the New York auction." The page showed a social media feed of one of the said models, lounging in a plush, personalized robe that just oozed comfort. It also looked absolutely immaculate. It hugged the woman's body without coming across as confining or obscene, just incredibly cozy. Other pictures showed the rest of the gifts. Slippers, towels, scarves. Comfort items. They stood in contrast with the kind of outfits you saw in the world of high fashion. These weren't purely for show. They were designed to be used, lived in.
Honestly, it probably promoted Garment's brand more than a gift of a spectacular gown or some high-end accessories could hope to. Apparently she hadn't even asked for promotion or recognition, just sending the packages as a thank you. As if it was less impressive to provide the clothing a supermodel would choose to wear on their own time, rather than be paid to display. And, of course, Garment's reputation for generosity would have people falling over themselves to volunteer in any way they could.
Emma flicked through a few of the other models who had posted pictures of their gifts. All personalized, all subtly different in fabric, cut, color, and weave, but all spectacular. The kind of clothing you could just sink into and fully relax, but without looking sloppy or callous about your appearance. Even Sophia raised an eyebrow as she looked at the collections.
"I guess she can be generous when she wants to be." She muttered.
Emma bit her lip. She had seen the handkerchief that Garment had given Sophia a week ago. It was a beautiful thing, embroidered silk in the colors of Shadow Stalker's costume. The fabric caught the light in a way that shimmered, looking almost like Sophia's shadow state. But when compared to what else had been handed out that night, even to non-capes, to victims, to prey, it fell short.
"I'm sure she was just intimidated by you." Emma said in the most convincing tone she could manage.
"Yeah." A slight smile curled on Sophia's lips. "Plus, she was probably too busy perving on Flechette."
Emma blinked and glanced back at her friend. "It's really that bad?" She asked.
"Oh yeah." Sophia said, her smile widening. "Garment was basically glued to her at that press conference. And she's been messaging Flechette nonstop. From what I heard she chased Kid Win away to get more time with her when they stopped by her shop after a patrol. He had to check some tinker stuff, so she got stuck with the handsy gloves." The girl wiggled her fingers. "Don't know how that's supposed to work with someone like Garment, but you should see how flustered Flechette gets whenever you bring it up."
"I would have thought she'd be tougher than that." Emma admitted.
Sophia shrugged again. "She can handle herself in the field, and knows when to ignore bullshit orders, but really can't deal with that kind of thing. Even Weld thinks it's hilarious." She grinned. "The guy can barely hold back his laughter whenever I bring it up."
Emma smiled as well. "I still can't believe you get to work with Weld."
"Eh." Sophia said with a casual wave of her hand. "He's nothing like his character on Broken Hills. Especially after he got dragged out of the bay."
Emma nodded at the shared secret. Sophia had some thoughts about the PRT taking credit for that, and being allowed to, and on top of the fact that Weld needed rescue in the first place.
"Does he ever talk about what it was like? Meeting Apeiron?" Emma asked. There was the slightest pause as the phrase 'The Enigmatic Artificer' echoed through their heads. Emma did her best not to visibly react to one of the clearest displays of strength the world had ever seen.
Sophia shook her head. "He'll clam up if you ask him about it, but that's probably the director's orders. The guy's got a rod up his metal ass over policy. I'm pretty sure he ended up on Piggot's shit list after that thing with Apeiron and had been trying to worm his way back into her good graces or whatever."
"Why do you think he does it?" Emma asked, leaning back in her chair. "Really, I mean, if he's that strong, why does he bother with any of this stuff? Saving people, chasing after the Undersiders, worrying about the ABB conscripts," Emma felt her distaste for the gang bleed into her tone, but worked to correct it. It didn't matter. Anything that might have happened to her, it DID NOT matter. She was stronger than that, stronger than what had happened. The ABB was gone, broken, with their last vestige locked away, and she was still here. She didn't break, not like Taylor. She was better than that.
"Even that thing at Somer's Rock." She added to cover her reaction. "He has to be strong enough to do what he wants, so why bother with any of that stuff."
"Sheep dog syndrome." Sophia said confidently. Emma gave her a confused look and prompted her to elaborate. "He got tangled up with people weaker than him, ended up thinking he's responsible for them. So, even if he's strong enough to be an apex predator, he's wasting his time looking after prey. The Undersiders, Weld, hell, even his own team."
"Really?" Emma asked, her mind flicking through everything she had read about the Celestial Forge. "But everyone's going on about how they're really strong capes."
"Yeah, but that's Apeiron." She explained. "He could take any cape and make them come off as really strong, even someone like Khepri."
Emma saw flickers of frustration on Sophia's face, and she understood why. They'd been over this, the way the girl had kicked off every problem in the city by reaching beyond her station. Pretending to be something she wasn't by using borrowed strength.
If she'd known her place, backed down when she was outmatched rather than relying on Apeiron's weapons, none of this would have happened. Sure, the incompetence of the other Wards had played a part, but it was Khepri's overreach that had set everything in motion. What threw the Wards into chaos, brought down the Youth Guard, shuffled the roster, and probably made the ABB attacks ten times worse, assuming they would have happened at all.
If Khepri didn't have Apeiron around to clean up her mess, to hold her hand so she could pretend to be predator instead of prey, who knows what would have happened to the city? The prospect of the ABB as the dominant gang in a city ruled by Lung wasn't one she wanted to think about.
Additionally, Emma had her own issues with Khepri, even if she could admit they were petty compared to Sophia's concerns. On top of that unearned strength, Khepri had reaped unearned fame and celebrity, and that attention had focused on a particular aspect of the cape. The theories about her precise relationship with Apeiron and what she might be doing to pay for her weapons were just theories, but one thing was undeniable. Apeiron placed a premium on beauty, and Khepri exemplified a very specific kind of beauty.
It was a topic that stung even more with the recent mention of modeling. Khepri was built like a classic supermodel, with a body for high fashion. She knew she had a particular appeal with her own work, but it was made very clear to her from early in her career that certain types of modeling would be beyond her reach, and would stay beyond her reach.
The same characteristics that made her an ideal match for department stores and local promotions effectively locked her out of the higher tiers of the industry. She had tried to stay positive about it. She had elements to her that went beyond acting as a walking clothes hangar for fashion divas. Still, it hurt to have her aspirations cut short, and hurt even more to see someone like Lady Khepri being praised for the specific characteristics she lacked.
The pictures of the Undersiders from Somer's Rock had made things even worse. Sure, everybody was focused on the debut of the Celestial Forge with Apeiron's mixed collection of monsters and heartthrobs, but they hadn't overlooked the Undersiders. Their pictures weren't perfectly framed and posed in the way the Celestial Forge could naturally accomplish, but there was still enough footage to see their new equipment in all its unearned glory.
She knew about Sophia's problems with Grue, how the man could undermine her power with his darkness and went after her with some personal vendetta. That was reason enough to be concerned about what Apeiron could have given him and the rest of the team. The new costumes were breathtaking, and no one doubted they would be incredibly durable, but even they paled in comparison to Khepri's.
Once again, whatever hooks Khepri had in Apeiron had been leveraged to prop her up even further. Gleaming golden armor, built in an Egyptian style like whatever god she named herself after, and leaving no doubt as to its power. With the rest of the Undersiders you assumed they were protected. With Khepri you could practically feel the intent through the design. It stood as something that set her above the rest of the world, and once again brought back her fans with their compliments and theories.
Khepri, the former model, or dancer, or socialite. All theories based on her body and the way she held herself. And all drawing attention to people who didn't have that kind of body and confidence.
Honestly, she was probably signing up for Garment's event as much out of a drive to reassure herself in her career as out of any hopes for gifts or positive press. It was a long shot, given with short notice, but it mattered to her. Even if she ended up working for Parian, or showing off seasonal wear from a department store. She knew she was strong, but it was nice when other people were forced to recognize that as well.
"Even if it's mostly Apeiron, there has to be something else there, right? At least more than the Undersiders." And Khepri. "I mean, he wouldn't just team up with nobodies?"
Sophia scoffed. "It doesn't take much to be more than the Undersiders. And yeah, they'd need to have something." She conceded. "At the very least, everyone's pissing themselves over Lethe." She glanced over at her Protectorate phone. "They've got a whole thing set up where we get alerts whenever they confirm her power's active, even if nobody can remember anything about her when it's on."
Sophia was clear in her annoyance at the situation, rather than the obvious concerns about a stranger in Apeiron-made power armor who could make everyone forget her existence. Still, even if they couldn't do anything about it, part of strength was not letting that kind of thing affect you.
Really, she couldn't challenge Sophia's opinion on the Celestial Forge. There just wasn't enough information. Plenty of random theories and rumors, but few confirmed facts, even for someone with the inside scoop. With a sigh she turned her mind to other matters.
"So," Emma said. "Last night before school reopens. Any idea how to spend it?" She looked around the assembled sleepover junk, mostly at a loss for what to suggest without sounding like an overeager ten year old.
"Nope." Sophia said flatly, tossing aside her magazine. "Not like we can go out. Boardwalk's flooded or torn up, so there isn't anything decent open. Probably won't be for a while." She glanced towards their backpacks in the corner of the room. "Doubt the teachers will care about homework either."
Emma nodded. Even if someone did push for assignments to be handed in, there was more than enough justification for skipping the deadlines, and teachers at Winslow were almost embarrassingly easy to talk around on those kinds of issues.
The subject of homework brought her mind back to other matters. "Do you think Taylor will be back at school?" Emma asked with a forced casualness.
"Probably not. Likely she'll skip as long as whatever overblown doctors note lets her. Stretch things out, like she did after the locker." Sophia said with an easy confidence.
Emma nodded again. She felt something curdle in her stomach, but pressed it down. Taylor had overreacted to that prank. If she was stronger, less of a victim, it wouldn't have gotten that far. Prey. That prey mentality that led to her absence, the hospital, and all the problems afterwards.
"Um, you said the Youth Guard woman was looking into things." Emma began carefully. "Is that something we need to worry about?"
"Not a chance." She replied quickly. "It could have been trouble right after the bank, but with everything else that's been happening that woman has too much to worry about." Sophia saw Emma's expression and moved to reassure her. "I'm serious. She's spent more time riding Vista over her time sheets than looking into anything for me, and Piggot's got too much on her plate to bother with nonsense from months ago."
Sophia had always been more cavalier about her probation than Emma was comfortable with, but that was the sign of a true predator. Moving forward with confidence, not letting petty concerns and worries drag you down.
Looking at it that way, it was laughable. The idea that anyone would care about the locker prank when Apeiron was turning the city inside out. That they would cause any problems for their best Ward when they needed every hand on deck to deal with the villain groups swarming in from all sides. Of course, it wouldn't be a problem.
"It'll be interesting if she does show up." Emma said. She knew Taylor's house was outside the worst hit areas, so she could conceivably show up tomorrow.
"It would be nice to set up a welcome for her." Sophia said with one of her cruel smiles.
"Hard to do without cell phones to coordinate things." Emma admitted. It wouldn't just be a problem at school. Coverage was spotty all over the city. Something about the towers not accounting for the effect of the field or whatever. She had barely exchanged a handful of texts with Madison since Thursday night, and most of those had queued and been delivered late.
"We'll see how it goes. Worst case she hides away somewhere we can't find her. That's nearly a win."
She nodded, but felt a creeping weariness. Something about the last handful of days, it felt draining as much as freeing. She just wasn't in the mood for planning the next move against Taylor. Probably because she had moved on, outgrown her. Proven strength, proven endurance. A proper predator. Maybe the time was coming where she wouldn't need to bother with Taylor anymore?
Looking at Sophia's expression, it was clear that wasn't going to happen. Predators didn't just ignore prey because it was beneath them. Everything had their place in the world. Emma knew that, and knew how easily things could flip if you gave into weakness.
But this wasn't the time to dig into that. She sat up and looked for something to take her mind off questions of school and Taylor. Her eyes fell on a DVD case and she snatched it up. "Hey, want to watch a movie? Close out the night?" She asked, holding up the second Maggie Holt film.
"Eh, why not." Sophia said, shifting back on the bed. "That's the first one with Blake Thorburn, right?"
"Yeah, back when Johnny Depp was playing him." Emma said, fitting the disk into the DVD player. She saw Sophia smile and nod. The early films might have the occasional cheap effect, but there was a reason they were classics, and the casting was a big part of that.
She smiled as the familiar opening started up, then felt her smile turn brittle as she remembered why she had such a fondness for the movie. Even with everything she had changed about her room, her outlook, her very self, there was still enough for it to come flooding back. Sleepover snacks, takeout pizza, and a fantasy movie playing in front of her. She could practically feel the energetic girl with round glasses sitting beside her, hanging on every word of the lore and story while Emma drank in the acting and effects.
She took a breath and buried the memories. She wasn't that person anymore. She was strong. She had to be. Even with the ABB gone, there was no place for weakness in this world. You were either predator, or prey. And she refused to be prey, no matter who she had to take down in order to accomplish that.
76.1 Interlude Emma
Emma looked around the clutter that had amassed in her room over the weekend. It had been years since she had something approaching a sleepover. Not since before that summer, before things with Taylor…
Anyway, this wasn't quite a sleepover. It wasn't like she would be doing anything so childish, but there were shades of that kind of thing. Shades too close for her liking, if she was being honest. Her mom didn't know about Sophia's situation. In her eyes, she was just a poor displaced girl needing a place to stay and some comfort from the horrors of the city.
That was the cause of all the juvenile indulgences they had been showered with. Snacks, soda, deserts, pizza and other types of takeout. Even the kinds of movies that they were both much too old for. Her mother had provided anything she thought might insulate them from what was happening out in the city.
As if she needed it. Emma wasn't the scared little girl who had been threatened by ABB thugs. She wasn't like Taylor, who shattered to pieces at the first sign of adversity. When she was challenged, she had fought back. She proved herself. She was strong. She was a predator.
In this city, in this world, that was what you needed to be. She had known that, taken the lesson to heart, but the last week had made it crystal clear, banishing any remaining doubts that she might have had. In fact, despite everything that had happened to the city, there was a freeing sensation that followed the resolution of the Ungodly Hour.
The ABB was gone. She still felt almost light-headed just thinking about it. Lung was dead and the gang's holdings were ravaged and broken. The last of their forces were being held in concentration camps in one of the parks while every business and criminal den in their territory had been cracked open. They would have been crippled even without the blackout field that cut their territory in half.
That field was the real reason Sophia was staying with her, not any of the excuses that had been spun for her mom. Sophia's house was on the outskirts of the blackout effect. Not close enough to lose power or fry electronics, but enough to block radio and cell phone signals. For most people it would be an inconvenience, but Sophia wasn't most people.
The Protectorate couldn't have their top Ward out of contact, not with the emergency measures that had been put in place. But more than that, there was the effect itself. It was another example of Apeiron's super technology, and something everyone had been struggling to understand. From what she knew they hadn't made much progress investigating the effect, with no real progress since Dragon and Armsmaster had managed to clear a small section of it. One thing was clear, from what had happened to Dauntless, Battery, and apparently Manpower, the field had interactions with cape powers related to electricity.
Shadow Stalker's weakness to electricity was one of her biggest secrets. Only known to her teammates, the highest levels of the Protectorate and PRT, and to her. Emma had been trusted with those secrets, so she knew why they were worried. Nobody wanted to find out what the field might do if Sophia tried to use her powers inside it. They were minimizing her contact, even to the edges of the effect. Thus, the need for another place to stay. She could have set up in the PRT headquarters, but with two visiting Wards and an agent from the Youth Guard that wasn't exactly appealing. All in all it had been fairly easy to make a case for Sophia to stay over for a few days.
It had annoyed her, seeing how happy Sophia's sister and brother were when they came to pick her up. Even her mom had a sense of relief to her when the girl left with a bag of clothes hiding her cape supplies inside. That treatment grated on Emma. They never respected what Sophia was doing, what it really represented, instead always focusing on their own petty gripes.
Not that Sophia ever complained. She was above that kind of thing, able to endure. It was what heroes did.
Even if she didn't look particularly heroic at the moment, laying on Emma's bed in her pajamas while flicking through an old fashion magazine.
"Isn't it kind of short notice for this kind of thing?" Sophia asked without looking up from her magazine.
"Yeah." Emma admitted as she glanced back at her laptop and skimmed over the email one more time. "But I don't think it's supposed to be a major event or anything. They're probably trying to do something to line up with the thing in New York." Sophia made a noncommittal noise as she turned a page. "Has anything come down from the Protectorate about this?"
The girl huffed, her eyes briefly flicking towards her Ward-issue phone on the dresser. "Nothing yet, but they've been sniffing around Garment since the moment she showed up. No way they'll pass up a chance like this. Just a question of how many people get roped into it."
"It won't be that bad." Emma said. There had been a handful of charity events she'd been able to attend where Sophia was also there, in costume. Sometimes she came as a guest, thanks to her father's connections, but a couple of times it was as a model for fashion shows and galas. There was always a thrill in having that secret connection with one of the heroes. That shift in the dynamic that the other guests or models could pick up on, not enough to precisely place, but enough to recognize the difference. It was something special, even beyond what you got with the major donors who attended every event they could. "I mean, it's Garment. She did a good job last time, right?"
"Sure, if you care about all that frou-frou stuff." She answered. There was a slightly bitter edge to her voice. "They were making a big deal about it to try to cover up how badly they were screwing up everywhere else. Not that it actually made a difference in the end."
But this might, Emma thought. It was the first charity event after the attacks, and that was important. Emma knew that wasn't an angle that Sophia would go for. The strong should stand on their own, not be propped up by other people. It helped if you looked at it from the other side. Not people who needed saving, a demonstration of how strong you were, what you could afford to do. Strong enough that it wasn't a burden.
"Besides, if she was serious she wouldn't be begging people to work for free." Sophia said, peering over at the email. "They just sent that out for anybody who would be willing to show up, right?" She teased, with that cruel edge to her voice she got sometimes.
"It's not like that." Emma said. Her modeling work might be entry level, but it wasn't like this was a public notice, something posted on a telephone pole or coffee shop bulletin board. The requests had gone through the city's agencies to her agency, who had picked and chosen who was contacted. They weren't just grabbing people off the street. "Besides, it's not a full fashion show. They don't have dedicated models, just wanted to confirm availability in case the designers have something to show off."
"What 'designers'? They got someone other than Garment?" Sophia asked.
Emma nodded. "Parian's involved, and a couple of department stores are looking into things. Well, 'involvement pending', but that probably just means they're arguing about how much credit they get and what kind of sponsorship they'll put forward."
"Figures. Parian's all about kiddy shows." She turned to Emma. "You're really going to do this? I thought you hated working for 'exposure'?"
Emma frowned. "I'm just putting my name in." She explained. "They'll get back if they have work for me. Plus, it's going to count as volunteer time, so I can get out of school."
Though it wasn't as if that was hard to do these days. Winslow was only just limping back to operation, and was close enough to the blackout zone that cell phones would be lucky to see a single bar. With the state of the city plenty of parents were holding off sending their kids back to school. Hell, even Taylor had managed to get a week's exemption for whatever made up injury she was claiming from the bombing. Actually, with the issues with her powers, Sophia probably could have gotten an excused absence until the blackout field cleared.
Normally that would mean more time to patrol, the kind of thing she would have jumped at, but things wouldn't be that easy after the other Wards screwed up their fight with the Undersiders. Not with a representative of the Youth Guard active in the department. Emma had sat through more rants about that woman than she could count. Any time Sophia got off from Winslow was going to be documented and have to be made up later, probably with the PRT tutors that she was always complaining about.
"And besides, it's not like I won't get anything out of it." Emma added as she navigated to another window in her browser. "Garment sent gift bags to the models who handled the outfits from the New York auction." The page showed a social media feed of one of the said models, lounging in a plush, personalized robe that just oozed comfort. It also looked absolutely immaculate. It hugged the woman's body without coming across as confining or obscene, just incredibly cozy. Other pictures showed the rest of the gifts. Slippers, towels, scarves. Comfort items. They stood in contrast with the kind of outfits you saw in the world of high fashion. These weren't purely for show. They were designed to be used, lived in.
Honestly, it probably promoted Garment's brand more than a gift of a spectacular gown or some high-end accessories could hope to. Apparently she hadn't even asked for promotion or recognition, just sending the packages as a thank you. As if it was less impressive to provide the clothing a supermodel would choose to wear on their own time, rather than be paid to display. And, of course, Garment's reputation for generosity would have people falling over themselves to volunteer in any way they could.
Emma flicked through a few of the other models who had posted pictures of their gifts. All personalized, all subtly different in fabric, cut, color, and weave, but all spectacular. The kind of clothing you could just sink into and fully relax, but without looking sloppy or callous about your appearance. Even Sophia raised an eyebrow as she looked at the collections.
"I guess she can be generous when she wants to be." She muttered.
Emma bit her lip. She had seen the handkerchief that Garment had given Sophia a week ago. It was a beautiful thing, embroidered silk in the colors of Shadow Stalker's costume. The fabric caught the light in a way that shimmered, looking almost like Sophia's shadow state. But when compared to what else had been handed out that night, even to non-capes, to victims, to prey, it fell short.
"I'm sure she was just intimidated by you." Emma said in the most convincing tone she could manage.
"Yeah." A slight smile curled on Sophia's lips. "Plus, she was probably too busy perving on Flechette."
Emma blinked and glanced back at her friend. "It's really that bad?" She asked.
"Oh yeah." Sophia said, her smile widening. "Garment was basically glued to her at that press conference. And she's been messaging Flechette nonstop. From what I heard she chased Kid Win away to get more time with her when they stopped by her shop after a patrol. He had to check some tinker stuff, so she got stuck with the handsy gloves." The girl wiggled her fingers. "Don't know how that's supposed to work with someone like Garment, but you should see how flustered Flechette gets whenever you bring it up."
"I would have thought she'd be tougher than that." Emma admitted.
Sophia shrugged again. "She can handle herself in the field, and knows when to ignore bullshit orders, but really can't deal with that kind of thing. Even Weld thinks it's hilarious." She grinned. "The guy can barely hold back his laughter whenever I bring it up."
Emma smiled as well. "I still can't believe you get to work with Weld."
"Eh." Sophia said with a casual wave of her hand. "He's nothing like his character on Broken Hills. Especially after he got dragged out of the bay."
Emma nodded at the shared secret. Sophia had some thoughts about the PRT taking credit for that, and being allowed to, and on top of the fact that Weld needed rescue in the first place.
"Does he ever talk about what it was like? Meeting Apeiron?" Emma asked. There was the slightest pause as the phrase 'The Enigmatic Artificer' echoed through their heads. Emma did her best not to visibly react to one of the clearest displays of strength the world had ever seen.
Sophia shook her head. "He'll clam up if you ask him about it, but that's probably the director's orders. The guy's got a rod up his metal ass over policy. I'm pretty sure he ended up on Piggot's shit list after that thing with Apeiron and had been trying to worm his way back into her good graces or whatever."
"Why do you think he does it?" Emma asked, leaning back in her chair. "Really, I mean, if he's that strong, why does he bother with any of this stuff? Saving people, chasing after the Undersiders, worrying about the ABB conscripts," Emma felt her distaste for the gang bleed into her tone, but worked to correct it. It didn't matter. Anything that might have happened to her, it DID NOT matter. She was stronger than that, stronger than what had happened. The ABB was gone, broken, with their last vestige locked away, and she was still here. She didn't break, not like Taylor. She was better than that.
"Even that thing at Somer's Rock." She added to cover her reaction. "He has to be strong enough to do what he wants, so why bother with any of that stuff."
"Sheep dog syndrome." Sophia said confidently. Emma gave her a confused look and prompted her to elaborate. "He got tangled up with people weaker than him, ended up thinking he's responsible for them. So, even if he's strong enough to be an apex predator, he's wasting his time looking after prey. The Undersiders, Weld, hell, even his own team."
"Really?" Emma asked, her mind flicking through everything she had read about the Celestial Forge. "But everyone's going on about how they're really strong capes."
"Yeah, but that's Apeiron." She explained. "He could take any cape and make them come off as really strong, even someone like Khepri."
Emma saw flickers of frustration on Sophia's face, and she understood why. They'd been over this, the way the girl had kicked off every problem in the city by reaching beyond her station. Pretending to be something she wasn't by using borrowed strength.
If she'd known her place, backed down when she was outmatched rather than relying on Apeiron's weapons, none of this would have happened. Sure, the incompetence of the other Wards had played a part, but it was Khepri's overreach that had set everything in motion. What threw the Wards into chaos, brought down the Youth Guard, shuffled the roster, and probably made the ABB attacks ten times worse, assuming they would have happened at all.
If Khepri didn't have Apeiron around to clean up her mess, to hold her hand so she could pretend to be predator instead of prey, who knows what would have happened to the city? The prospect of the ABB as the dominant gang in a city ruled by Lung wasn't one she wanted to think about.
Additionally, Emma had her own issues with Khepri, even if she could admit they were petty compared to Sophia's concerns. On top of that unearned strength, Khepri had reaped unearned fame and celebrity, and that attention had focused on a particular aspect of the cape. The theories about her precise relationship with Apeiron and what she might be doing to pay for her weapons were just theories, but one thing was undeniable. Apeiron placed a premium on beauty, and Khepri exemplified a very specific kind of beauty.
It was a topic that stung even more with the recent mention of modeling. Khepri was built like a classic supermodel, with a body for high fashion. She knew she had a particular appeal with her own work, but it was made very clear to her from early in her career that certain types of modeling would be beyond her reach, and would stay beyond her reach.
The same characteristics that made her an ideal match for department stores and local promotions effectively locked her out of the higher tiers of the industry. She had tried to stay positive about it. She had elements to her that went beyond acting as a walking clothes hangar for fashion divas. Still, it hurt to have her aspirations cut short, and hurt even more to see someone like Lady Khepri being praised for the specific characteristics she lacked.
The pictures of the Undersiders from Somer's Rock had made things even worse. Sure, everybody was focused on the debut of the Celestial Forge with Apeiron's mixed collection of monsters and heartthrobs, but they hadn't overlooked the Undersiders. Their pictures weren't perfectly framed and posed in the way the Celestial Forge could naturally accomplish, but there was still enough footage to see their new equipment in all its unearned glory.
She knew about Sophia's problems with Grue, how the man could undermine her power with his darkness and went after her with some personal vendetta. That was reason enough to be concerned about what Apeiron could have given him and the rest of the team. The new costumes were breathtaking, and no one doubted they would be incredibly durable, but even they paled in comparison to Khepri's.
Once again, whatever hooks Khepri had in Apeiron had been leveraged to prop her up even further. Gleaming golden armor, built in an Egyptian style like whatever god she named herself after, and leaving no doubt as to its power. With the rest of the Undersiders you assumed they were protected. With Khepri you could practically feel the intent through the design. It stood as something that set her above the rest of the world, and once again brought back her fans with their compliments and theories.
Khepri, the former model, or dancer, or socialite. All theories based on her body and the way she held herself. And all drawing attention to people who didn't have that kind of body and confidence.
Honestly, she was probably signing up for Garment's event as much out of a drive to reassure herself in her career as out of any hopes for gifts or positive press. It was a long shot, given with short notice, but it mattered to her. Even if she ended up working for Parian, or showing off seasonal wear from a department store. She knew she was strong, but it was nice when other people were forced to recognize that as well.
"Even if it's mostly Apeiron, there has to be something else there, right? At least more than the Undersiders." And Khepri. "I mean, he wouldn't just team up with nobodies?"
Sophia scoffed. "It doesn't take much to be more than the Undersiders. And yeah, they'd need to have something." She conceded. "At the very least, everyone's pissing themselves over Lethe." She glanced over at her Protectorate phone. "They've got a whole thing set up where we get alerts whenever they confirm her power's active, even if nobody can remember anything about her when it's on."
Sophia was clear in her annoyance at the situation, rather than the obvious concerns about a stranger in Apeiron-made power armor who could make everyone forget her existence. Still, even if they couldn't do anything about it, part of strength was not letting that kind of thing affect you.
Really, she couldn't challenge Sophia's opinion on the Celestial Forge. There just wasn't enough information. Plenty of random theories and rumors, but few confirmed facts, even for someone with the inside scoop. With a sigh she turned her mind to other matters.
"So," Emma said. "Last night before school reopens. Any idea how to spend it?" She looked around the assembled sleepover junk, mostly at a loss for what to suggest without sounding like an overeager ten year old.
"Nope." Sophia said flatly, tossing aside her magazine. "Not like we can go out. Boardwalk's flooded or torn up, so there isn't anything decent open. Probably won't be for a while." She glanced towards their backpacks in the corner of the room. "Doubt the teachers will care about homework either."
Emma nodded. Even if someone did push for assignments to be handed in, there was more than enough justification for skipping the deadlines, and teachers at Winslow were almost embarrassingly easy to talk around on those kinds of issues.
The subject of homework brought her mind back to other matters. "Do you think Taylor will be back at school?" Emma asked with a forced casualness.
"Probably not. Likely she'll skip as long as whatever overblown doctors note lets her. Stretch things out, like she did after the locker." Sophia said with an easy confidence.
Emma nodded again. She felt something curdle in her stomach, but pressed it down. Taylor had overreacted to that prank. If she was stronger, less of a victim, it wouldn't have gotten that far. Prey. That prey mentality that led to her absence, the hospital, and all the problems afterwards.
"Um, you said the Youth Guard woman was looking into things." Emma began carefully. "Is that something we need to worry about?"
"Not a chance." She replied quickly. "It could have been trouble right after the bank, but with everything else that's been happening that woman has too much to worry about." Sophia saw Emma's expression and moved to reassure her. "I'm serious. She's spent more time riding Vista over her time sheets than looking into anything for me, and Piggot's got too much on her plate to bother with nonsense from months ago."
Sophia had always been more cavalier about her probation than Emma was comfortable with, but that was the sign of a true predator. Moving forward with confidence, not letting petty concerns and worries drag you down.
Looking at it that way, it was laughable. The idea that anyone would care about the locker prank when Apeiron was turning the city inside out. That they would cause any problems for their best Ward when they needed every hand on deck to deal with the villain groups swarming in from all sides. Of course, it wouldn't be a problem.
"It'll be interesting if she does show up." Emma said. She knew Taylor's house was outside the worst hit areas, so she could conceivably show up tomorrow.
"It would be nice to set up a welcome for her." Sophia said with one of her cruel smiles.
"Hard to do without cell phones to coordinate things." Emma admitted. It wouldn't just be a problem at school. Coverage was spotty all over the city. Something about the towers not accounting for the effect of the field or whatever. She had barely exchanged a handful of texts with Madison since Thursday night, and most of those had queued and been delivered late.
"We'll see how it goes. Worst case she hides away somewhere we can't find her. That's nearly a win."
She nodded, but felt a creeping weariness. Something about the last handful of days, it felt draining as much as freeing. She just wasn't in the mood for planning the next move against Taylor. Probably because she had moved on, outgrown her. Proven strength, proven endurance. A proper predator. Maybe the time was coming where she wouldn't need to bother with Taylor anymore?
Looking at Sophia's expression, it was clear that wasn't going to happen. Predators didn't just ignore prey because it was beneath them. Everything had their place in the world. Emma knew that, and knew how easily things could flip if you gave into weakness.
But this wasn't the time to dig into that. She sat up and looked for something to take her mind off questions of school and Taylor. Her eyes fell on a DVD case and she snatched it up. "Hey, want to watch a movie? Close out the night?" She asked, holding up the second Maggie Holt film.
"Eh, why not." Sophia said, shifting back on the bed. "That's the first one with Blake Thorburn, right?"
"Yeah, back when Johnny Depp was playing him." Emma said, fitting the disk into the DVD player. She saw Sophia smile and nod. The early films might have the occasional cheap effect, but there was a reason they were classics, and the casting was a big part of that.
She smiled as the familiar opening started up, then felt her smile turn brittle as she remembered why she had such a fondness for the movie. Even with everything she had changed about her room, her outlook, her very self, there was still enough for it to come flooding back. Sleepover snacks, takeout pizza, and a fantasy movie playing in front of her. She could practically feel the energetic girl with round glasses sitting beside her, hanging on every word of the lore and story while Emma drank in the acting and effects.
She took a breath and buried the memories. She wasn't that person anymore. She was strong. She had to be. Even with the ABB gone, there was no place for weakness in this world. You were either predator, or prey. And she refused to be prey, no matter who she had to take down in order to accomplish that.
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