13
Golden Lark
The First Fiction User
Excellence 2.2.1
The next morning I holed up for a while reviewing the video of the spar like I was obsessed.
Play, watch, replay.
Rewind, repeat.
Skip back a few seconds.
Again.
Again.
I watched the moments I remembered feeling the rush of energy at. I watched the stunts I pulled that I shouldn't have been able to manage without actually invoking my power. I watched Victoria's facial expression after the last counterpunch, and as I dislocated her arm. On some level, I had come very close to death in that last move; she could have simply closer her hand over my face.
As it was, I had allowed her to save face, her temper had vanished, and I had earned respect proportional to how much hurt I had put on her. That wasn't . . . normal, I think.
The glances Panacea kept giving me through the rest of the day didn't make me feel better, either.
I restarted the video again.
I was trying to figure out how I knew the things I did about barehanded fighting without pulling on the power. The paintball gun and the training knife flowed in easily; too easily. Instincts and reflexes overtook me during both of those tests. Here, I was definitely better than I was before triggering, but not extraordinarily so. It was like I had an academic familiarity with unarmed combat, but I just wasn't feeling it naturally. I made plenty of mistakes- but when I made purposeful moves, I made them well.
As I watched, I found myself mentally noting where I would have struck her with a stun rod or a knife to disable her after the hardness she had broke each time. I tried not to dwell too long on those thoughts. I know that various soldiers say things like "have a plan to kill everyone you meet," but I was just a bit shy of the demographic to actively want to practice that mindset. Regardless, I was a lot more focused when considering a weapon's use in hand.
Finally I got tired of rewatching and went out to meet the day. Dennis greeted me with a formal, mocking martial artist's bow, then mimed a bunch of chops and kicks while making odd noises. I bopped him on the head and moved on.
After a few more tests, I was free to wander again. On a whim, I downloaded a bunch of Bruce Lee flicks and brought them to one of the big classroom auditorium chambers on a thumbdrive. One visit to the break room later and I had soda and popcorn. Adequately prepared, I sat down to watch a real pro chop, punch, and kick while making odd noises. Missy wandered by, saw what I was watching and returned with a drink. I offered popcorn, and then we both kept watching.
Carlos joined us for a bit, and swapped out with Dennis when they switched patrols. In the back of my mind I wondered why they hadn't send me out on duty yet, but I figured they wanted to keep testing me due to the unconventional nature of my power. In any case, everyone on the Wards popped in but Dean, as Dean was busy elsewhere before and after his patrol shift.
By the time the final credits rolled, Missy was dozing in her seat and everyone else had gone to bed but me. I shook her and guided her back to her room, then returned to my own. After a quick internet research session on Jeet Kune Do later, I went to bed myself.
For the next couple weeks, every day I set aside some time for practicing unarmed fighting. I knew I simply wasn't built for raw force, so I worked with what I had, and tried to internalize the philosophies of the style. I didn't focus so hard on any specific moves or actions- I just image trained in various situations where I might lose or not have access to a weapon. I minded things like twitch reflex redirection of the full force my body was capable of in a single arbitrary direction, dynamic reaction to the flow of energy as it became motion or force, and the constant addition of showmanship and flair (the psychological warfare aspect that attracted me to Bruce Lee in the first place). Done properly, he melded all aspects of fighting into a seemingly over-the-top show. This meshed perfectly with what I had discovered about my own powers during the spar. Awe is a weapon every bit as deadly and distracting as a knife or a gun, if wielded properly.
After watching me practice a bit, my fellow Wards all politely refused my offers to spar, much to my amusement. Miss Militia took me up, however, a few times a week when she wasn't otherwise occupied. I could feel my progress as I practiced. On some level it felt more rewarding than the 'cheating' nature of my instant competence with weapons. Miss Militia was initially skeptical of my occasional seemingly wasted movements and chaotic battlefield antics, but after we sparred in a holographic office building setting she stopped doubting me. She also added 'no papercuts' as one of the rules for subsequent spars.
***
Just as I started my 'final' round of tests, Glory Girl filed an official request for me to join her as a guard at an event in the coming week. Director Piggot approved it pending my acceptance, and let her meet with me to try to sell me on the job.
"So basically, we get paid a grand each to stand there, look pretty, and scare away any troublemakers."
"And this is at a stagehouse?"
"Yeah, they rented the whole place for the event. It will probably be boring as hell, but I don't say no to easy money."
"What's the event?"
"A bunch of ladies from around the area all meeting up for some kind of rally or something. Lame, but they have cash."
"Sure, why not? My boss already signed off on it."
"Awesome! I'll see you there Friday night! Here's the address. Wear that outfit!"
Before I could protest that the costume I was (still) running around in was but a draft version, she had gotten up and bolted from the room.
Huh.
***
The rest of the week before Friday was basic training on aspects of being with the PRT that apply to everyone, mundane or cape. First Aid I passed with flying colors. Researching the local capes and identifying them on sight went smoothly too. I was expected to name their powers and classes, and have a general idea of who I would potentially try to fight alone, and who I'd not be allowed to engage without backup. Finally, I was shown the relative values of the different parts of town, and the priorities we were expected to follow if things went bad in multiple places at once. I didn't object out loud at the time, but I made a mental note to research the logic behind some of the rankings. I definitely didn't like how my old neighborhood ranked well below Emma's. I smelled graft.
Glenn had remained evasive about the next version of my costume. Dennis' Youtube video tapered off its popularity, and the cape message boards had a bit of buzz over "The new BB girl." After hearing about the job I was taking, Chris whipped me up a fresh set of those invisible camera drones, this time with no teleport function. He said they had a special surprise instead, but I wouldn't have to worry about it as it'd be automatic.
Finally, Friday evening arrived. I was not too thrilled to be prancing around in the Glenn suit, but I figured it wouldn't matter for a quick guard job. I met Victoria behind the building, and we started to make our way backstage, where we'd split up and take position just offstage to either side. I opened with my biggest question.
"So, uh, did you ever figure out what the event was about?"
Glory Girl shook her head.
"Nah, I was asked to come by a friend of my mom. I would have dragged one of my cousins along but she wasn't interested. Amy doesn't do bouncer work, so you were next on the list of girls I knew that would work as a candidate."
I decided not to comment on that. I fielded another question.
"What kind of group has the cash to rent capes at a grand a head?"
Once again, Victoria shrugged.
"Dunno. They don't seem to be a local outfit, though. Oh, here's the stage. You take stage right, I'll take left."
After a quick moment of confusion after Glory Girl turned right, I scrambled to my left and slipped over just behind the curtain. I got a glimpse of a very full audience, mostly women. There was one woman on stage at the podium, who seemed to just be dialing back from a very intense rant. A cheesy march-like tune played from the speakers in the background.
"-and that's why we have gathered here today! For the future! For the children!"
She got a standing ovation from the crowd. I turned by back to the audience, and leaned back trying to read the banner strung above the stage.
As if waiting for me to finish my horrible realization, the lights and background music cut out, plunging the entire auditorium into blackness. I immediately started channeling my (now more or less fully charged) power into my muscles. The speakers crackled, then hummed as something new jacked in. A very loud (and unfortunately familiar) voice boomed out, causing everyone to flinch.
"No Escape."
The woman who had been at the podium had stepped off if the direction her voice was coming from was any indication. She was yelling something that got drowned out by the new speaker. Glory Girl and I both stepped out onto the (very wide) stage, but neither of us ran due to the darkness. I could hear the murmuring of the audience start churning up towards panic. Suddenly, I felt a breeze of displaced air, and I sensed something massive float down from above. I had barely gotten my forehead brand to full brightness before the woman who had been leading was flung offstage, up and over and behind the audience if her initial vector and velocity was any indication. I didn't hear her hit the back wall or land, just her scream fading into nothingness as she grew more distant. A second voice rumbled forth.
"Foxes only."
When visibility came back, it wasn't from the stage lights. The walls and ceiling were gone. The floor around the audience was gone. The curtains and backdrop were gone. A soft, purple-white glow rose from the starry cosmic backdrop that faded into view. The woman hadn't hit the walls or floor because there was nothing to hit, only a bottomless void.
In the middle of the stage were two figures with crossed arms standing back to back, one facing me and one facing Glory Girl. Two familiar capes known for their signature style. A party that would not tolerate a gathering such as this in their city, at any cost. Both were young men, wearing what seemed to be flight jackets and otherwise military-looking gear. Each wore a headband with a pair of furry fox ears. The slimmer one, facing Glory Girl, brandished a small remote in one hand and finished their introduction.
"Final Destination."
Über and Leet, in the flesh.
The next morning I holed up for a while reviewing the video of the spar like I was obsessed.
Play, watch, replay.
Rewind, repeat.
Skip back a few seconds.
Again.
Again.
I watched the moments I remembered feeling the rush of energy at. I watched the stunts I pulled that I shouldn't have been able to manage without actually invoking my power. I watched Victoria's facial expression after the last counterpunch, and as I dislocated her arm. On some level, I had come very close to death in that last move; she could have simply closer her hand over my face.
As it was, I had allowed her to save face, her temper had vanished, and I had earned respect proportional to how much hurt I had put on her. That wasn't . . . normal, I think.
The glances Panacea kept giving me through the rest of the day didn't make me feel better, either.
I restarted the video again.
I was trying to figure out how I knew the things I did about barehanded fighting without pulling on the power. The paintball gun and the training knife flowed in easily; too easily. Instincts and reflexes overtook me during both of those tests. Here, I was definitely better than I was before triggering, but not extraordinarily so. It was like I had an academic familiarity with unarmed combat, but I just wasn't feeling it naturally. I made plenty of mistakes- but when I made purposeful moves, I made them well.
As I watched, I found myself mentally noting where I would have struck her with a stun rod or a knife to disable her after the hardness she had broke each time. I tried not to dwell too long on those thoughts. I know that various soldiers say things like "have a plan to kill everyone you meet," but I was just a bit shy of the demographic to actively want to practice that mindset. Regardless, I was a lot more focused when considering a weapon's use in hand.
Finally I got tired of rewatching and went out to meet the day. Dennis greeted me with a formal, mocking martial artist's bow, then mimed a bunch of chops and kicks while making odd noises. I bopped him on the head and moved on.
After a few more tests, I was free to wander again. On a whim, I downloaded a bunch of Bruce Lee flicks and brought them to one of the big classroom auditorium chambers on a thumbdrive. One visit to the break room later and I had soda and popcorn. Adequately prepared, I sat down to watch a real pro chop, punch, and kick while making odd noises. Missy wandered by, saw what I was watching and returned with a drink. I offered popcorn, and then we both kept watching.
Carlos joined us for a bit, and swapped out with Dennis when they switched patrols. In the back of my mind I wondered why they hadn't send me out on duty yet, but I figured they wanted to keep testing me due to the unconventional nature of my power. In any case, everyone on the Wards popped in but Dean, as Dean was busy elsewhere before and after his patrol shift.
By the time the final credits rolled, Missy was dozing in her seat and everyone else had gone to bed but me. I shook her and guided her back to her room, then returned to my own. After a quick internet research session on Jeet Kune Do later, I went to bed myself.
For the next couple weeks, every day I set aside some time for practicing unarmed fighting. I knew I simply wasn't built for raw force, so I worked with what I had, and tried to internalize the philosophies of the style. I didn't focus so hard on any specific moves or actions- I just image trained in various situations where I might lose or not have access to a weapon. I minded things like twitch reflex redirection of the full force my body was capable of in a single arbitrary direction, dynamic reaction to the flow of energy as it became motion or force, and the constant addition of showmanship and flair (the psychological warfare aspect that attracted me to Bruce Lee in the first place). Done properly, he melded all aspects of fighting into a seemingly over-the-top show. This meshed perfectly with what I had discovered about my own powers during the spar. Awe is a weapon every bit as deadly and distracting as a knife or a gun, if wielded properly.
After watching me practice a bit, my fellow Wards all politely refused my offers to spar, much to my amusement. Miss Militia took me up, however, a few times a week when she wasn't otherwise occupied. I could feel my progress as I practiced. On some level it felt more rewarding than the 'cheating' nature of my instant competence with weapons. Miss Militia was initially skeptical of my occasional seemingly wasted movements and chaotic battlefield antics, but after we sparred in a holographic office building setting she stopped doubting me. She also added 'no papercuts' as one of the rules for subsequent spars.
***
Just as I started my 'final' round of tests, Glory Girl filed an official request for me to join her as a guard at an event in the coming week. Director Piggot approved it pending my acceptance, and let her meet with me to try to sell me on the job.
"So basically, we get paid a grand each to stand there, look pretty, and scare away any troublemakers."
"And this is at a stagehouse?"
"Yeah, they rented the whole place for the event. It will probably be boring as hell, but I don't say no to easy money."
"What's the event?"
"A bunch of ladies from around the area all meeting up for some kind of rally or something. Lame, but they have cash."
"Sure, why not? My boss already signed off on it."
"Awesome! I'll see you there Friday night! Here's the address. Wear that outfit!"
Before I could protest that the costume I was (still) running around in was but a draft version, she had gotten up and bolted from the room.
Huh.
***
The rest of the week before Friday was basic training on aspects of being with the PRT that apply to everyone, mundane or cape. First Aid I passed with flying colors. Researching the local capes and identifying them on sight went smoothly too. I was expected to name their powers and classes, and have a general idea of who I would potentially try to fight alone, and who I'd not be allowed to engage without backup. Finally, I was shown the relative values of the different parts of town, and the priorities we were expected to follow if things went bad in multiple places at once. I didn't object out loud at the time, but I made a mental note to research the logic behind some of the rankings. I definitely didn't like how my old neighborhood ranked well below Emma's. I smelled graft.
Glenn had remained evasive about the next version of my costume. Dennis' Youtube video tapered off its popularity, and the cape message boards had a bit of buzz over "The new BB girl." After hearing about the job I was taking, Chris whipped me up a fresh set of those invisible camera drones, this time with no teleport function. He said they had a special surprise instead, but I wouldn't have to worry about it as it'd be automatic.
Finally, Friday evening arrived. I was not too thrilled to be prancing around in the Glenn suit, but I figured it wouldn't matter for a quick guard job. I met Victoria behind the building, and we started to make our way backstage, where we'd split up and take position just offstage to either side. I opened with my biggest question.
"So, uh, did you ever figure out what the event was about?"
Glory Girl shook her head.
"Nah, I was asked to come by a friend of my mom. I would have dragged one of my cousins along but she wasn't interested. Amy doesn't do bouncer work, so you were next on the list of girls I knew that would work as a candidate."
I decided not to comment on that. I fielded another question.
"What kind of group has the cash to rent capes at a grand a head?"
Once again, Victoria shrugged.
"Dunno. They don't seem to be a local outfit, though. Oh, here's the stage. You take stage right, I'll take left."
After a quick moment of confusion after Glory Girl turned right, I scrambled to my left and slipped over just behind the curtain. I got a glimpse of a very full audience, mostly women. There was one woman on stage at the podium, who seemed to just be dialing back from a very intense rant. A cheesy march-like tune played from the speakers in the background.
"-and that's why we have gathered here today! For the future! For the children!"
She got a standing ovation from the crowd. I turned by back to the audience, and leaned back trying to read the banner strung above the stage.
MOTHERS AGAINST VIDEOGAME VIOLENCE
FIRST ANNUAL CONVENTION
WE ARE NOT AFRAID!
Oh dear Christ!As if waiting for me to finish my horrible realization, the lights and background music cut out, plunging the entire auditorium into blackness. I immediately started channeling my (now more or less fully charged) power into my muscles. The speakers crackled, then hummed as something new jacked in. A very loud (and unfortunately familiar) voice boomed out, causing everyone to flinch.
"No Escape."
The woman who had been at the podium had stepped off if the direction her voice was coming from was any indication. She was yelling something that got drowned out by the new speaker. Glory Girl and I both stepped out onto the (very wide) stage, but neither of us ran due to the darkness. I could hear the murmuring of the audience start churning up towards panic. Suddenly, I felt a breeze of displaced air, and I sensed something massive float down from above. I had barely gotten my forehead brand to full brightness before the woman who had been leading was flung offstage, up and over and behind the audience if her initial vector and velocity was any indication. I didn't hear her hit the back wall or land, just her scream fading into nothingness as she grew more distant. A second voice rumbled forth.
"Foxes only."
When visibility came back, it wasn't from the stage lights. The walls and ceiling were gone. The floor around the audience was gone. The curtains and backdrop were gone. A soft, purple-white glow rose from the starry cosmic backdrop that faded into view. The woman hadn't hit the walls or floor because there was nothing to hit, only a bottomless void.
In the middle of the stage were two figures with crossed arms standing back to back, one facing me and one facing Glory Girl. Two familiar capes known for their signature style. A party that would not tolerate a gathering such as this in their city, at any cost. Both were young men, wearing what seemed to be flight jackets and otherwise military-looking gear. Each wore a headband with a pair of furry fox ears. The slimmer one, facing Glory Girl, brandished a small remote in one hand and finished their introduction.
"Final Destination."
Über and Leet, in the flesh.
