Pale Queen (Worm/Hollow Knight)

[Jeckparadox]

Spoiler: CARRION BEETLES

Many of them got their start in the locker, and quickly were captured by spiders once their intelligence set in. Small and somewhat weak, these beetles make up for it by being dedicated to their jobs, their sheer determination. Due to the first of them being saved from the spiders by Taylor, they are incredibly devoted to her.

Spoiler: WEEVILS

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A herbivorous variety of beetle with excellent senses. About as strong and durable as a sewer beetle once they've transformed, they make for good farmers, though they don't have the same type of magical green thumb as the filter flies.

Spoiler: LADYBUGS

A carnivorous variety of beetle, they've taken well to farming as well. Their favorite prey, aphids, are just as much a pest to bug farmers as they are to human ones, after all.

Spoiler: DRAGONFLIES

The best fliers bar none among bugs, with unparalleled speed and agility in the air. Similar in many ways to the mantid tribe, Dragonflies are natural warriors and hunters. Unlike the mantids, they don't base their entire identity around combat ability, and don't have much of a hierarchy to speak of. They tend to take a very mercenary approach when interacting with other bugs, including their own species. Very professional with a strong sense of honor, once hired, they'll risk their lives for the sake of completing a mission.

Spoiler: WATERBUGS

A type of bug with a strong shell and enormously powerful arms, possessing grip strength allowing it to hold in place animals much larger than itself. Able to hunt things like frogs and fish even before the change, they have since become creatures able to take out a human single-handed even in a fair fight. Despite this power, they tend to be solitary bugs without interest in Taylor's civilization or running bandit gangs. Focusing simply on a simple life of hunting and caring for their families.

Spoiler: WASP

Possessing a sharp stinger and a good instinct for battle, wasps tend to form into small territorial clans, laying stake to an area and furiously harassing anyone who comes near, and are somewhat fearless, willing to attack even humans without much hesitation should they come too close to a place they've claimed as their own. That said, they are easily appeased by gifts or offers of assistance or respect of their boundaries, and are quite trustworthy and once you've earned that trust. They have a talent for making and shaping paper that no other bugs possess, able to create structures, weapons, and tools out of paper.

Spoiler: ROBBER FLY

Having lost the ability to fly in their transformation into new humanoid forms, they've made up for it by using their newfound intelligence to become better at ambushes than a robber fly has ever been before. Luckily, rather than using those ambushes to hunt other intelligent bugs, they now focus on stealing supplies. When hired to steal from humans, they make for excellent scavengers able to sneak in and out of dwellings and secure specific objects, but when turned against their fellow bugs, they make for especially irritating bandits.

Spoiler: FIREFLY

Having lost the ability to both fly and produce light after their transformation into becoming a humanoid, many of them wonder whether they should try to get their species' name changed. Despite the loss of their primary mode of communication from when they were unintelligent, they still possess the same instinct for it, and have taken a kind of role as couriers and messengers, enjoying going from place to place and spreading information.

Spoiler: LACE BUG

A totally herbivorous bug, after their transformation they've grown in size significantly, and have a species-wide fascination with sewing and craftsmanship, possibly due to the way they carefully ate the 'meat' of plant leaves without damaging its overall structure when they were unintelligent insects.

Spoiler: MANTIS SHRIMP

Large and powerful, a handful of them were touched by Taylor's light when she slithered along the seashore from one drain pipe to another. Since then, they've become something of the bosses of the seashore, each one declaring a piece of territory their own, and ruling over the other bugs there. Their claws are very sharp, and they have a kind of speed that seems impossible for a 'bug' of their size.

Spoiler: HERMIT CRAB

The 'commoners' of the seashore, they've formed into groups working under the mantis shrimp. Having grown too large from their transformation to stay in their snail shells any longer, they've had to start covering their bodies with bits of garbage to protect themselves.

 

[Jeckparadox]

After the incident with the moth unfortunately named Fire, I've decided to add 'healers' to the list of things to investigate. Although I'm not sure about how far we'll get. My humanoid bugs are utterly unique creatures. Even if we found a veterinarian specialized in small animals, I don't know how much would be familiar to them. It might be that for the time being, the best we can do with wounds is bandage them up and hope they'll heal on their own.

Another thing on the list are the unique abilities the spiders have shown, and whether the other bugs have anything similar.

The way that the lead spider described her barriers as 'spells' concerned me. It meant that basically all spiders had a parahuman ability to create barriers. And with the way I've seen the plantlife nearby the filter fly groups specifically grow thicker and greener and more vibrant, they're not the only ones with special powers. It leaves me wondering if every species of bug has their own unique power associated with them. And if so, what were moths? Snails? Roaches? The different types of beetles?

Part of me wants to stay and help the bugs experiment, learn more about what they can do, but I'm on a time-table. The longer I spend here, the more bugs will wake up down the tunnel without my guidance.

Already, while the other bugs slept, a few bugs that hatched from the cocoons further down the tunnel had ventured out from their home and come across our group.

We needed to get moving. So it was about time we got to work on the transportation.

Of the thousand or so bugs in this first stretch of sewer, realistically only half of them would want to leave. Due to my foresight, I knew this was going to be more-or-less true all the way down. Most of the filter flies who lived off of the moss and algae wouldn't see any reason to leave areas where their preferred food grew. A lot of the cockroaches and maggots wouldn't either, content to continue just living off of the land beside them. But almost all the sewer beetles, moths, snails, and Winslow bugs we rescued would follow.

So... give or take six hundred bugs, repeating, every couple dozen yards. My civilization would outnumber the human population of Brockton Bay far before I reached the end, and those who chose to live apart from my group would outnumber even them.

One boat wasn't going to cut it. Anything big enough to carry even just the starting six hundred of us would be too heavy to float in the relatively shallow water. I was thinking a series of miniature pontoon boats traveling in a long unbroken line like a caravan. For each one, I was thinking a matching pair of water bottles, tied together to a platform of a few Popsicle sticks, or even just regular sticks once we ran out. This platform would be covered with a tarp of ripped up plastic bags heated with flame in certain spots to glue it to the sticks. Each boat would be tied at the front and the back to the previous and next boats in line. Strong bugs with long oars would push the caravan forwards all along the line.

They were simple boats. Extremely simple boats. But ones that would work, and ones we could build. For larger water bottles, we could use rubber bands to hold them to the Popsicle sticks, for smaller ones, we could just bind them with thread. And thanks to the spiders, our supply of thread can be replenished without need for unraveling lost mittens.

More than that, we would send scouts ahead carrying spools of thread who would know how to build these simple boats. They could recruit freshly-hatched bugs, and get them started on scavenging supplies to build ones of their own once they met the caravan.

Bugs could take shifts, alternating between resting, scouting, gathering food, gathering materials, building boats, and rowing those boats.

While the bugs were sleeping, I had already set up the materials for the first five or six boats with only Fire's help. With the help of everyone that planned on coming along, and the amount of supplies we have, I'm sure we could build another dozen.

I wait until a good number of the bugs are awake, and seem to have finished eating, before jumping up and flaring my light.

"Everyone!" I announce, "If I could have your attention. I'm about to show you what we're going to do with those supplies you've worked so hard to gather. I need volunteers to assist me."

Ferrous immediately moves up, as does Fire, despite her clear exhaustion. More bugs start moving as well, from maggots and little carrion beetles rescued from Winslow, to their larger sewer beetle cousins.

And then, I begin showing them how to put together a boat. Making sure the bottles have a cap, or at least a plastic cover secured by thread or a rubber band. Tying the sticks to the bottles. Connecting the plastic bags to the sticks- melting them immediately turned out to be a bad foul-smelling idea, so we're just sticking with more thread -and then pushing the first boat into the muck, and out into the water. It floated beautifully, and could support the weight of a few dozen moths who settled down on it from above without any signs of trouble.

All in all, it took about an hour and a half. But we were just working on one.

Soon, I began leading them to building the second boat, while Fire took charge of another at the same time. This time, with more bugs helping, and a better idea of how the parts go together, two of them took only an hour. Ferrous and a few other bugs who helped with the first three took the lead on the next few, and once the spiders started joining in production really ramped up with their clever and liberal use of thread to simply glue things together. Soon, the stretch of sewer I had been calling my home for the last few days was practically lined with with boats.

Now came the hard part, "Everyone! I know some of you will want to stay here. I am not forcing anyone to follow me," I'll have enough bugs to accomplish my goals by the end the journey there, regardless, "But anyone who wishes to follow me, tell me now. It will be a long time before we can send anyone back, if ever."

Bugs began to whisper among themselves, and I watched as divisions formed, bugs argued, and formed divisions. Just as I predicted, for the most part, the cockroaches, maggots, and filter flies didn't want to come.

When things reached their climax and the two groups seemed to be done forming, I walked over to our needle pile. I gathered up an armful, and walked to the larger group. The bugs that would stay behind. I held one out to a large filter fly, and then another to a roach, and then another to a maggot, who struggled to hold it with their short arms. Then, I continued the pattern. A few roaches in the group already had weapons from last night, but I tried to keep the distribution even.

"I hope you'll protect each other," I say to them, "I hope you'll use these weapons to defend your homes, and whatever you build on your own. And I hope you'll always remember that you can always follow the cocoon trail to us, if you ever change your minds. We won't turn you away."

"We will," said a tall filter fly, one I that I recognized pulled me from the water after the Winslow raid.

I sigh, and turn back to the group who would be coming with me.

"Gather up as much of the scavenged materials as we can," I order, "Anything we can use to make the next boats, gather together in any intact plastic bags. We'll tie the bags shut and drag them behind us."

The next two hours were hectic and energized, as bugs began to climb aboard the boats they helped make. One of the pontoons collapsed, but was quickly repaired. Others found them too crowded, and so three more were built in a hurry. A few other bugs turning towards tying cups plastic bowls and lids to the sides of boats for more space, or riding on top of the supply bags to be carried with.

The longest and sturdiest sticks were handed out to stronger bugs- cockroaches, sewer beetles, and spiders -and they used them as oars. Pushing off the bottom of the sewer, and urging the boats steadily forwards.

I looked behind us at the space we were leaving behind. At the crowds who chose not to follow my lead. Without thinking, I waved to them. Some of them waved back.

I sucked in a breath, turned around, and looked out into the tunnels ahead of us. We were on the move.

"Send the scouts ahead," I order, "Let's begin."


--------------
Author's note:
I'm debating whether to take the journey more day by day like I have been so far and have her discover each type of bug's powers, or do a small time skip to a week ahead where she's already learned more about the bugs powers, and is entering the Trainyard.

Tell me your thoughts.

 

[Jeckparadox]

No matter how hard she tried, or how many hours she devoted to them, Rachel couldn't reach every dog.

But she did her best. She set out food, she set out clean water. When she found people trying to snatch them up, or poison them, or hit them, or even just yell at them, she beat the shit out of them and chased them away. She spent a lot of time trying to entice dogs who had exceedingly good reasons to never, ever trust another goddamn human again to come close so she could rub anti-tick and anti-flea poison on their backs. She made sure that the area around her home had shelter for them. Places to get out of rain or cold for a while.

She did the best she could.

But she was just one girl. Sometimes she preferred things that way. But with every dog-fighting ring she broke up, every puppy she found on the street, every miniature poodle being choked and dragged by a leash from someone who should know better, every mutt she grabbed from a dogcatcher, everything got harder. She needed to buy more food and medicine and collars and leashes and toys. Needed to provide more space.

Had to do more work. Scoop more poop. Teach more dogs how to follow commands.

It was obviously worth it. And she wouldn't give up. But it wasn't sustainable.

Joining the Undersiders, as much as they were annoying and confusing and smiley, solved her money issues. At least partway. But it didn't do much for her in terms of workload. Actually made it harder, with the way they occasionally cut into her free time. They wanted her around even when they weren't doing jobs. Which didn't make sense, considering they didn't actually like her.

Currently, she was looking around the Trainyards for more stray dogs. Brutus, Judas, and Angelica were following at her feet. It was one of the places in the Bay where there were fewer people around but plenty of garbage to eat and warm places to sleep. When one of her best-trained dogs turned suddenly, focusing in on a scent, the other two began to sniff the ground as well and tugged her slightly in the direction they wanted to go. She followed them, before reaching a sewer drainage pipe. Ugh. The grate had rusted away a long time ago.

The sewers were always warm. And with the nights getting colder, no matter how much most dogs disliked the moisture and filth, a few would decide it would make for a nice place to sleep.

She ventured close to the entrance, and bent down, looking inside. Already the stench was inside her mouth. But Angelica was sure there were dogs in here.

Taking out one of her spare leashes, she advanced inside, keeping as dry as she could. Brutus and Angelica went in after the scent, but Judas hesitated, not wanting to get his paws wet. She empathized. She would have to wash her shoes extra-well tonight. And probably give all three of them and whatever they could lead out a bath.

Nobody was going to enjoy that.

The first dog is aggressive at first, but she calms him down, and gives him a treat, and gets a leash around his neck. He is riddled with fleas. Not to mention he had been eating a dead rat when she found him. He either hadn't been eating well, or something in his belly was eating more than their share. She would have to give him worm medicine just in case. She found two more in similar conditions and managed to wrangle both.

Letting out a sigh at the simple fact that the dogs were allowed to get this miserable to begin with, she began to quickly make her way back. Each one of her more experienced partners marshaling the three newcomers forwards and keeping them calm and docile.

Getting back to her home was always a production. Dozens of dogs running up to her, greeting her, smelling her, begging for food, or scratchies, or simply to be acknowledged. A half-dozen toys were dropped in front of her as she walked, but she had long since gotten used to the art of not tripping over squeaky toys suddenly manifesting under her feet. The newcomer dogs were sniffed at, and barked at, and crowded around before a short whistle had the better-trained dogs backing off, and the ones who weren't following their lead.

No need to crowd them. Or spread their fleas.

She hosed off her own shoes and gave all six a bath and thorough brushing, as well as she could without spooking the newcomers too badly, anyway. That was when she found the first of them. The brush hit a snag in the fur, and she pulled away with a silvery-white... glowing thing. She squeezed it, but it was too hard for her to break. Slightly sticky to the touch, it took her wiping it off on a table to get it off her finger. Was it a seed of some kind? A fungus?

She brushed and brushed, and pulled free a few dozen more off of just the first dog. Not to mention all the ones that ended up in the bottom of the tub. The next two newcomers had even more of them.

There were at least two hundred of the things by the time she was done.

She emptied out the tub, and then scraped off all the seeds into a pile. She'd have to try and figure out what they were. If it was a type of fungal infection or something, she'd have to buy medicine for that too. She dumped the pile into a bit of old newspaper and carried it with her into a supply closet, putting the pile on a high-up shelf. One of the few places in her makeshift shelter the dogs couldn't weasel their way inside. She would grab it again later, and try and look up what it was.

In the hectic mess of all the other things she had to do that night, the pile slipped her mind. In the week that followed, she found no other dogs with white pods, so she stopped worrying.

She had no idea yet that they would solve a lot of her problems and cause plenty of others.

 

[Jeckparadox]

"Okay, everyone ready?"

"I think so!"

"All the little ones rounded up?"

"For the moment!"

"Good!" the Leader of the group of fleas announced, "Then I think it's about time we got back to a more mobile lifestyle!" he turned around, and walked to the edge of the shelf, looking down at the floor far below.

The Leader hesitated, however. This entire situation was truly very strange. According to his memories, he had been a normal flea riding on the back of a dog. Then, one day a pale white light flashed past and he went into a cocoon.

And upon breaking out of that cocoon a changed being, he found himself in a strange space. No longer on a dog at all, and surrounded by other fleas just as changed as he was.

There had been a small degree of panic, but apparently he had a good head on his brand-new shoulders, and took charge of the situation. Getting his fellow fleas to calm down and focus on a direction to go in. Namely, off of the shelf.

But as he came close to the edge, instincts he had never had before pushed into his mind and made him feel nervous about the distance. He remembered jumping farther distances as an ordinary flea. There had been no instincts revolving around heights at all. But now there were. Maybe it had something to do with being bipedal.

But he was the leader! He wouldn't give into fear so early in their first journey into a new world with their new bodies. He leaped off the edge, and sailed through the air, landing on the floor so far below without any trouble at all.

"Come on down!" he called back up, "You'll be fine!"

Some of the others seem to share the same hesitance he had, but soon enough they all start jumping down as well. Once the entire crowd was on the floor, he began leading them towards the doorway. Shoving himself underneath, he poked his head out into the colder air, and looked around.

Sure enough, there were dogs. Dogs as far as the eye could see. Dozens and dozens of them, barking, playing, rolling around, chasing each other. It was paradise. A smile pulled at his new face, and he pushed himself the rest of the way through. Part of him wanted to take a bounding leap towards the closest one and bite down, drink in that delicious warm nectar pumping through every single one of those adorable beasts. But he was the leader, and he couldn't just leave the others behind.

"Come on everyone," he said, helping fleas squeeze through under the door. As the others took in the same sight he saw he heard gasps of awe, and had to stop a few others from jumping off without them.

But eventually, all of them were free.

"Now, I know how tempting this is, but we do not know anything about our current situation," he said, "We need to look at this situation carefully and-"

"Look!"

He turned his head towards one flea on the outskirts of their little group, and followed where her hand was pointing. Then, he saw it.

The human.

The dogs flocked to her as soon as she appeared, barking and jumping and dancing and begging. She nudged them gently out of her way as she made a beeline for the fleas position.

"Everyone, to the side of the shed! Find a place to hide!" the leader ordered.

Everyone scrambled after him as he led them away from the doorway and to the side of the building, hiding behind a cluster of foul-smelling buckets and shovels as they watched the human come closer. She reaches the door without looking down, and disappears inside the shed. A few of the dogs seem to put together a kind of perimeter in order to keep her from being mobbed as she walks back out with a huge bag.

Then, she crosses part of the yard again, and starts pouring kibble into various bowls. The dogs attack the food in a rush, and the Leader watched with interest as the human looked on.

She was in charge here, that much was clear. She fed the dogs, they listened to her, respected her.

She led them, and the shed that he and his fellow lice had woken up inside of was her property. Did she bring them there?

He looked out over the rest of the fleas, and put on as calming a smile as he could, "Okay, everyone, I have a plan. For now, stay here. I'm going to try and make contact and secure permission."

"Permission for what?"

"To feed," the Leader said, looking out over the dogs. He waited until the human had finished pouring out the last of the bag, before coming out of his hiding spot and jumping up towards the human. One bound took him about halfway across the yard to her position. Another bound had him landing on the surface of her jacket. He climbed up to her shoulder, then, and cleared his throat, "Attention, great Lord of the Dogs, I am-"

Something impacted with his chest, and he was sent flying. He bounced off the ground without any real damage, but he was startled all the same. He looked up, and saw the human looking down at him with wide eyes.

"Um. Hello! I-"

She stepped forwards then, and snatched him from the ground, squishing his limbs to the sides of his body so he couldn't escape.

This was a mistake!

"I mean you no ill will, I simply wish to- to-" he stammered, before he found himself being brought close to the human's face. She stared into his face, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" she growled.

"I... don't know?"

"Who made you?" she asked, "This is my territory. Everyone knows to stay away."

"I don't know!" the Leader protested, "Me and my fellows woke up inside the shed, on the top shelf!"

She frowned at that, confused, before something seemed to occur to her. Recognition flashed in her eyes, "Why were you on those dogs in the sewer?"

"To... drink their blood?" the Leader said.

She sneered, "Get out. Go back to wherever you came from," she began walking across the yard, coming to fence, "I won't have anything biting my dogs. Especially not whatever you are."

"We came from the shed! We don't have anywhere else to go!"

"You're not from my shed. I'm not stupid. You're a parahuman thing," she said, before getting to the fence and dropping him on the other side of it, "Just get out. If you come back, I'll squish you."

He turned behind him, and looked at the long expanse of snow-covered gray roads and gray buildings. Not a dog in sight. Already, he was starting to shiver despite his fur. He and his band were lucky enough to hatch into a kind of animal oasis in an apparently dark, cold, otherwise dog-less world.

"Can't we come up with some kind of deal?" he asked desperately before she could walk more than a few feet away.

"A deal?" she asked, turning, "For what?"

"This place- it's paradise! We don't know why we're not ordinary fleas any more. But we aren't, and we were brought here by... by you, right? There's no dogs out there. We'll starve or we'll freeze!"

"That's not my problem," she said coldly, "I don't like my dogs having fleas."

"Look, isn't there anything we could do for you to let us stay?"

"No. Go away."

She turned away, only to stop and sigh as she moved around a piece of poop she was about to step on.

An idea popped into the Leader's head, although he didn't much like it.

He jumped back through the fence, and darted between her legs, picking up the thankfully dried-out piece of poop as big as he was, he lifted it effortlessly over his head, "We can help you clean!"

She considered him coldly for a few seconds, "I don't want you to bite my dogs."

"We won't drink much! I promise we'll be cleaner than ordinary fleas!" he said, "We can help keep the ground clean, and help feed them, and we can even pick away ordinary fleas like we used to be! Just let us stay!"

She narrowed her eyes down at him, "If any of my dogs get sick because of you, I'm squishing you," she threatened.

He gulped.

"Throw that in the trash," she ordered, pointing at a silvery large can in one of the lot's corners.

He jumped forwards, making it there in just a few bounds, before leaping up to its lid. He dropped the poop inside, and then made his way back to the human, "What next?"

"...Where's the rest of you?" she asked.

The Leader hesitated once again, but ignored his fear just as he did on the shelf, leading her back to the shed, and clearing his throat, "Fleas!" he announced, "The commander of the dogs has agreed to allow us to stay in her domain, for as long as we assist her!"

The human went wide-eyed again as the fleas started moving forwards. She considered the group for a bit, before glaring back down towards the Leader, "You can start by cleaning the yard. If the dogs give you any trouble, shout and I'll come over. If any of them hurt a dog, I'll squish them."

She walked off then, and whistled, gathering the horde of dogs towards her as she moved across the yard.

The Leader let out a sigh of relief, "Okay! Then, let's start. We'll begin by picking up poop and bringing it to that container over there and then-"

"Why are we 'assisting' her?" one of the fleas interrupted, "What's going on?"

"...I don't know what happened to us, my brethren," the Leader began, "I don't know why we were brought here. All I know is that this is where the dogs are, this is the only place we know of where we can actually build a livelihood. And that human commands the dogs," the Leader shrugged, "It seems to me that for now, our path is obvious. We help the human, the human allows us access to the dogs, and possibly information."

 

[Jeckparadox]

Rachel watched them work with the kind of caution she felt was due the situation. She knew that most people- normal people -would probably be freaking out. But the way she saw it, either the talking bugs were telling the truth, or they were lying. And if she found out they were lying, she would squish them.

In the meantime, if they were telling the truth, she appreciated the help.

And they really were helping. There were a little over two hundred of them, and even if they couldn't carry much individually, together they made the yard cleaner in two hours than it had been since she first came to Brockton Bay. They didn't stop at just poop, grabbing pieces of glass she had never noticed. They also found and threw away nails and screws and even fallen leaves.

After that, she filled up one of the little kid pools she normally used to give baths, and filled with with a thin layer of warm water and some soap.

"Go ahead and clean up," Rachel ordered, "I don't want you touching the dogs if you've got poop on you."

Speaking of the dogs, the way that they interacted with them was another reason she wasn't too suspicious of the fleas. The bug-people knew their way around dogs almost the same way Rachel knew them. They didn't shout, they didn't cringe away, they couldn't exactly stand their ground, considering the size difference, but they handled them well. Handled them with respect. The fleas feared Rachel, she could tell, but they weren't afraid of the dogs, even though they could squish the fleas just as easily. They just seemed fond.

Part of that, Rachel knew, was because they saw the dogs as a source of food.

Which... she didn't like. But she already had an idea about that.

Once the fleas were all clean, she had them begin to clear her dogs of parasites. A few flea-people were assigned to each dog that she knew had a problem, and got to work hunting down their non-Tinkered brethren. She was worried that the dogs would mind the flea-people crawling around on them, but for the most part they ignored them, and the few that didn't.

After that, she returned to the rest of her chores, leaving them to it.

The day passed, and as her usual lunch break approached, Rachel realized that she might as well try out her idea for feeding them. "Hey, fleas," she shouted, "Come here for a second," as they started to gather near her feet, she looked out across the yard, and picked on one of her most reliable dogs, "Brutus!"

As the rottweiler trotted over, she looked over the group of fleas, trying to pick out the one she talked to that morning, but she still had trouble telling them apart. Maybe she could get them to wear colored hats or something?

"We are gathered!" one of them announced, stepping forwards, the voice was similar enough, it was probably the same flea-person.

She looked at Brutus, and made the motion for him to sit. Brutus dropped, and then she reached down and placed her hand on him. Immediately, Brutus began to grow in size, his flesh twisting and warping to make room for new muscle, new bone. She could grow him to massive size if she wanted, but for now she stopped once he was about twice as big as he started.

"...You can drink," she said.

The fleas looked at Brutus in amazement, before the leader of the group stepped forwards and looked her way, "Is it safe?" they asked.

"Probably."

The flea hesitated a few more seconds, and Brutus began to fidget. When she got new dogs she used her power on them a bit, so that the regeneration that came with it might help them with their health problems a little. But besides those times, usually she only used her powers when she was training them, or getting ready for a fight.

It wasn't often she used her power and then had one of them sit still.

"Well? Hurry up! Do you want blood or not?"

The leader shrunk back at her demand, and she felt a spark of irritation.

"...Of course. Thank you," the flea said, finally, and jumped up onto Brutus. Then, it leaned down and bit him.

Brutus had, and likely would continue, to shrug off bullets. If the bite hurt him, she couldn't tell. He turned his head to look at her and opened his mouth slightly, letting his tongue hang in front of her. She reached out and rubbed his snout, the stump of his tail wagging.

The flea pulled away after a few seconds, and Rachel saw the bite mark and frowned. She could barely see it. The only evidence at all were a few tiny red beads of blood.

The flea hopped down, and then turned to their people and threw both arms into the air, "I declare this blood- delicious!"

Rachel flinched as the tiny horde of fuzzballs swarmed up Brutus. She held him in place as he tried to back away, and kept him calm when he tried to scratch. He was perfectly fine with just one, but he didn't like two hundred.

But after a few seconds, they peeled away. Brutus shook himself, and scratched a bit at his skin, but after another moment's use of her powers, all the tiny bite marks vanished entirely.

She looked over the group, "Are you satisfied for now?"

"Yes! We've all drunk our fill, right?" the leader asked, addressing the rest of the group.

The fleas gave various affirmatives, while a handful more jumped back onto Brutus for seconds, but they were back down within a few seconds.

"Tell me when you're hungry again," she ordered, "Don't drink from any of the dogs if I'm not present, understand? Otherwise I can't heal them afterwards."

"We understand," the lead flea said, "Now, what would you have us do next?"

"Exercise," she said simply, stepping into the shed and grabbing an armful of toys, "How fast can you throw something?"

"I guess, it would depend on how big the thing is?" one of the other fleas volunteered, jumping up close to her.

She dropped a tennis ball. The flea caught it with some effort, but was having trouble keeping it balanced. Another flea jumped over to help, and with two of them they held the ball up without shaking. The dogs in the yard went quiet as they turned their attention to the ball.

The fleas kicked off the ground simultaneously, using their powerful leap to propel themselves, and the ball, high into the air. Then, they let go, sending it sailing across the yard.

There was a stampede of barking and yapping as dogs rushed after it.

She dropped the rest of the toys in front of the other other fleas, "Play with them until they start getting tired, then lead them over to the water bowls. I'm going to work on training a few of them while you keep the others distracted."

Leaving them at it, Rachel gave a short whistle, the dogs with the most level of training broke off from the pack, ambling up to her and the slowly-shrinking Brutus. As she led them to the usual corner she used for dogs she was training for potential conflicts, she watched as the rest of the dogs were led around back and forth.

She was starting to have a good feeling about this arrangement.

Rachel began to cycle through whistles and commands, giving out treats for prompt and correct obedience. But about a half hour into the session, she noticed a handful of fleas coming closer. One of them hopped onto Angelica's back, climbing onto her neck.

Then, the flea gave a whistle.

Angelica sat.

"Oh!" the flea squeaked.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, giving a different whistle. Angelica shot back up, looking to Rachel for a target. "Go!" she commanded, pointing towards the fence.

Angelica rushed forwards and the flea let out a scream of fear, before letting out a whistle of its own. She couldn't hear the command, but Angelica turned back around and head back to Rachel.

Rachel put a hand on her hip, considering, "...Huh."

 

[Sacramento]

I eagerly await seeing Lisa's reaction to this development the moment that Rachel casually brings some para-fleas with her to the loft.

Click to shrink...

Lisa: "Bitch, what?"

Rachel: "I made some friends."

Lisa: *looks down at the army of tinkered-up fleas* "Define 'made'."

Brian: "The PRT is going to come down on us hard, aren't they?"

Alec: "They'll squash us like bugs."

Lisa: "Alec."

Alec: "We'll go splat like a bug on a windshield.'

Brian: "Bitch, I'm blaming you for this."

Rachel: "Do whatever you want."

Alec: "Oh, fleas don't be mad at her. We can start over from scratch. It's not her fault if some bugs decided to itch-hike. Maybe she got them at the flea market."

Lisa: "Right, I'm out."

Brian: "Where are you going?"

Lisa: "I'm way too sober to deal with this."

Alec: "I hope I'm not bugging you. I don't mean to be a pest. You don't have to flee."

Brian: "Get me something, too."

Rachel: "Alec, shut up or I'll hit you."

 

[Jeckparadox]

They crash through the walls, snarling and barking, and there's something fucking exhilarating about it.

Usually, when she did this, the main thing she felt was anger. She was angry at the men who thought they could do this to these dogs. She was angry with herself, because she didn't come earlier. It took time to find out about these kinds of dog fighting rings. Talking to people, which was always awful and annoying and difficult, because the type of people she talked to were the type of people who knew where dog-fighting rings were and she had to resist tearing them apart right then and there long enough to know where those rings were.

So, usually, when she finally got ready to take down a place like this, she was angry.

But this time, she was just excited. She was on top of Brutus, Angelica and Judas at her sides, just like usual. But that wasn't all. There was also Sirius and Kuro and Milk and Stumpy and Axel and Bullet and Ginger- all of the dogs she had given even the basics of training in their amped-up forms.

She couldn't keep track of all of them at the same time, and in fact, her power was burning like a pit in her stomach from keeping all of them as large as they currently were, but that didn't matter. Because she didn't have to keep track of them.

She had explained their goals and she could trust the dog's riders to follow through.

They were a pack. Her, the dogs, the flea-people.

They moved as one, smashed through the wall, smashed through the guards. They could fend off against three dogs- especially when she had to keep double-checking to make sure that the two she wasn't riding were okay, that they weren't getting distracted, that they weren't going too far, but she didn't have to do that this time.

Mixed in with the grunts and screams and gunfire and barking were whistles and squeaky-voiced commands.

It was systematic, the way they shoved down every single person in the ring, throwing them out or battering them to the floor, before moving on. It was over in seconds, and her heartbeat was still pulsing in her ears seconds later.

She climbed down off of Brutus and looked at the ten monstrous dogs lined up in front of her, all of them watching her with excited eyes and happy tongues.

Despite how their bodies had been morphed by her power she could still see that the exhilaration in her was in them, too. She gave out praise and compliments, not just to them, but to their riders, too.

It wasn't just nine fleas, it was a about four to a dog. They had learned to respond to the movements of Rachel's feet, urging them forwards like a horse, so there was a flea on each of their sides holding a medical hammer. The kind doctors used to make you kick your leg up. Then there were two on the head. One near the collar to give commands, and one on the nose to point.

Someone else might have described them like a well-oiled machine, her and thirty-six flea people and ten dogs. But all she could describe them as was a pack.

She began to load the victimized dogs into cages, and then dragged them towards the van. While she was at it, she raided the vaults, the betting tables, and most of the people that had been knocked out rather than sent running. More money to support the shelter.

Then, with reluctance she pulled all the people out. Left them tied up with leather leashes that had been used in the ring. Once she was satisfied that it was totally empty, she looked to her pack, and pointed at the building. "Bring it down. The whole thing."

A chorus of whistles rang out from the fleas, and nine dogs charged, Brutus following the rest of the pack a moment later. They tore down everything. Wood, concrete, plaster, they smashed through all of it, puncturing through one side of the warehouse and out the other, until it couldn't stand up under its own weight.

The building came down, now nothing but rubble.

She climbed into the driver seat of her van, trusting Brutus to follow the van and trusting the fleas on the other nine dogs to urge them to follow as well.

It was a good day, but the fun part was over. The next few days would be a mix of heartache and frustration as she tried to break the conditioning the victimized dogs had gone through, treat their injuries and illnesses, socialize them so that they saw other dogs as friends and not sources of potential violence.

But at least she wasn't alone, this time.

The other flea-people were waiting at the shelter when they got back, immediately flooding the cages and coming back out to get medicine and supplies, or to carry away dead pieces of parasites.

It was... what was the word? Streamlined. Efficient.

Rachel didn't just leave things to them, though. She immediately got down on her knees and began going through the cages, checking on them one by one. Which ones would have to stay in their kennels for the time being, which could be allowed to socialize under watch, which had to be carefully monitored to protect themselves, which needed cones.

The afternoon became evening became night. Her only real breaks were to pull herself away from the new dogs to take care of all the old ones, but these tasks too were made easier with the help. She was grateful for them.

It was nearly midnight before she allowed herself to settle down to sleep.

When she woke up, though, it was to a flea on her face. She managed to somehow restrain the urge to swat at them in time, but was irritated all the same, "What? What happened?"

"There's something you should come see?"

She shrugged her way out of bed, and looked up at the sky- it was earlier than she normally woke up.

She followed the flea's urging towards the shed, where she heard some angry squeaking. Had they trapped a rat inside? As she approached, she saw the fleas crowded around the doors, all of them pulling apart to allow her access. When she walked inside, she saw that there were indeed rats, but instead of being trapped, they were being ridden by more flea-people. Ones with... fur that was more yellowish than the brown she was familiar with.

A handful of her fleas were talking to the new ones, something that immediately quieted as Rachel drew near.

One of the newcomers urged his rat forwards with a "Hyeah!" and it zipped up to her foot. She just about restrained herself from kicking it. She didn't like rats. They got at the dog food. And they carried- well, fleas. "Well, ain't that a strange sight," the rat-flea said, looking up at her.

He...

He sounded like a cowboy.

...

She chose to ignore it.

"When I heard that some of our kind had actually gone and made friends with a human, we knew we had to investigate. Seems like the Pale Queen's wrong sometimes."

"Pale Queen?" Rachel asked.

"The light," one of her own fleas said, "The light we saw, before we started changing. The others think that it's what caused it. A bug who glows with the same light has apparently taken credit for it."

"Not a human?" Rachel asked. There weren't Para-bugs, were there? Para-bugs who could make more para-bugs.

"Nope. A bug, like us. Just... shinier. Purrty-er," the newcomer said, "She's been making her way along the silver trail, with a bunch of boats. Taking anyone who wants to with her. But those of us who're faster, she sends on ahead to get bugs ready for her arrival. Makes the process a bit more smooth, eh? She also tells us to tell the bugs to not trust humans."

Rachel frowned, before nodding, "That makes sense. You shouldn't."

"Oh? What about you?"

"I don't trust humans either. It's why I live with dogs."

The flea laughed at that, and she sneered down at him. If some tiny little rat-riding intruder thinks he can come and laugh at her he-

She stopped herself.

"But really, you shouldn't trust humans. Most would probably just try to squash you. I almost squashed them," she admitted, "So... keep being suspicious, or whatever."

"Hm," he looked back down to his rat, and then up at Rachel again, "Would you want to meet with her? I can't claim to understand how she thinks. She can see the future, after all, but I think she'd find the prospect of a human ally interesting."

"I'm not an ally," Rachel shot back gruffly, "I have a deal with these guys. They help me, I help them. That's all."

"Suit yourself. But the main caravan'll be passing by-" he pointed towards the fence, out towards the train yard. Rachel remembered, then, the sewer opening where she had found the dogs. "-through the sewer there in about two days' time."

He led the other rat-fleas in the direction he pointed, slipping through the spaces of her chain-link fence, and scurrying off towards where she knew the sewer was.

Rachel was left thinking. She didn't really have any reason to meet with the Queen, whoever she was, but... these fleas, her fleas, were part of the pack now. If they were created for something, if someone was trying to control them, she wanted to know why and how. But... she wasn't good at figuring things out.

She was intending on revealing her fleas to the other Undersiders at some point. Their ability to control the other dogs was too useful to not use on their jobs. She could make so much more money if they didn't have to run away all the time.

Tattletale was good at figuring things out. Maybe it was time to tell her, at least, so she could help.

Rachel walked over to her room and found her cell phone. Bringing up Tattletale's number, she hit the dial symbol.

 

[Jeckparadox]

Spoiler: Author's note

Sorry about the delay. After the last project I had for my classes, I was feeling just absolutely burned out. Didn't want to touch a keyboard at all. I didn't mean to let a whole month go by with nothing, but that's what happened.

Lisa sighed as she got out of the car and heard the sound of barking in the distance. She had only been to Rachel's handmade dog shelter a handful of times, mostly during emergencies, and Rachel preferred it that way. To have her call out of the blue and invite her over was definitely strange.

As she approached the barking got louder and louder, until she finally reached the fence and found about two dozen dogs barking and crowding around the door, sniffing through the spaces between the chain links and hurrying to be either the first to greet her, or scare her away.

"Enough." Rachel called out, her voice hard and clear. The command was obeyed by a majority of the dogs, and the ones who didn't listen were easily herded away by those that did, "You came." Rachel said, looking at her.

Lisa put on her best grin, "Of course I did! It's so rare you invite me over to your private dog park. So, what did you want to talk about?"

Rachel hesitated, which is something that immediately ratcheted up Lisa's tension and curiosity. If there was one thing Bitch was, it was decisive. She reacted quickly, and didn't care much for regrets or overly complicated plans. Which wasn't to say she couldn't be cautious when she needed to, but she never hesitated.

"I need to show you something. Come on."

"It's not something we can talk about at the fence?" Lisa asked hopefully. The last time she had stepped into Rachel's domain unprepared she had needed to buy new shoes. The pair she was wearing now she didn't really care for, but if she didn't have to ruin them she didn't want to.

"No. Now come on."

Lisa frowned, but stepped through the gate, closing the fence back up behind her before any dogs could escape. She kept one eye on the ground as she walked just in case. Actually- ground significantly cleaner. Less dogs? No. Acquired help. Yes, no. No other footprints but Rachel's -she looked towards the dogs themselves- larger number than usual paying attention for commands. At least twice as many able to listen to directions. Dogs significantly cleaner. Healthier. Acquired help. Yes, no. Rachel is the only human working here.

That was a conundrum. Her eyes glided across the shelter, but she could see no other signs of human habitation but Rachel's.

Rachel led her over to the shed, and Lisa found her answer as Rachel swung the doors open, revealing a small horde of tiny furry things. Lisa's first thought was mice, but they were too small, and rather than milling and churning, they seemed to be standing at attention, all eyes directed at Rachel.

"Flea-people, this is Tattletale. Don't worry about her," Rachel said casually to the swarm, before looking back Lisa's way, "...I need your advice for something," Rachel said, squatting down and holding out an arm. Lisa resisted the urge to take a step back as part of the swarm advanced up Rachel's arm, and as Rachel stood back up, Lisa could see them in much greater detail.

"Did you make these?" Lisa asked, trying to hide her outright shock, "Can you enhance the dogs' parasites now along with them?" But even as she asked, she knew she was off the mark and that was even more troubling.

"No, someone else changed them. But they've been helping me out. We have an understanding."

She was telling the truth, which was a relief, especially since she could already tell how potentially dangerous every one of these things were. At least human-level intelligence, greater-than-proportionate strength, unknown numbers- definitely more than just the ones present.

"Miss Rachel has been very kind in letting us stay here." announced one from her shoulder that she hadn't noticed before. She jolted in place, but didn't swat at it.

Able to move silently, jump great distances, good at reading people- noticed her urge to slap,but didn't do anything to stop it. Confidence it could jump away in time?

"That's nice," she said to it, "Now, Rachel, what, exactly, did you want my advice on?" Lisa asked.

"There are a lot more of these guys living in the sewer," Rachel said, "And the one who made them is going to come close to here in two days... I want to know whether I should try to meet her."

"...Well, that's an interesting question. Why is she coming here? To meet with you?"

"I don't know. The bug who told us about her said she was following a trail," Rachel shrugged.

"Well if you don't know what she gets out of it, then what do you want to get out of it?" Lisa asked.

Rachel shrugged again, looking annoyed, "I don't want her to take them back. They've been helping out. Yesterday-"

"-you went on another raid. Without telling us," Lisa finished, "Grue won't like that."

"It wasn't just a raid," Rachel said, and there was something almost wistful in her voice, "I brought ten dogs. We tore that fucking place apart."

"Ten?" Lisa asked, "How many people died?"

"Nobody. All the dogs were under control," she gestured to the fleas again.

"We're riding them like Miss Rachel does," the one on her shoulder provided, "Although it takes four of us per dog, when she can do everything by herself."

And suddenly, they became so, so much more dangerous. Part of her was excited at the thought. Rachel was the keystone of the team in many ways. Their muscle, their transport. With up to ten dogs, or even more, with each of them able to be controlled as accurately as Rachel can on their own? The Undersiders capabilities will have outright multiplied as a team. Rachel was their answer to Lung, Hookwolf, and the Protectorate, whenever stealth or trickery failed. And now they had a much stronger answer.

But on the other hand, part of her thought that they should get rid of them. A Parahuman in the sewers, granting human-level intelligence to insects and using them as minions? That's a very scary set of implications. Spy networks, secret assassins. If four can work together to successfully guide one of Rachel's dogs, then obviously they're able to work together to do almost anything.

She had a feeling that the smart thing to do would be to not get involved.

"We're a pack, now," Rachel said, "With them, I can do so much more than I can by myself."

But then, Rachel already was involved.

"Does she already know where you live?" Lisa asked, "Never mind, you said she sent a messenger? She definitely does. What did the messenger tell you?"

Rachel frowned, thinking, "The bug said that she would come by in two days."

"Why?"

"She's following the Silver Trail." the flea on her shoulder provided, "Following the path the light that transformed us took."

"Can you tell me more about that?" Lisa asked.

"Can't really remember, to be honest. I was just a bug, then. I couldn't think like I can now. I was biting a dog, the light came by, and after a while, I went into a cocoon. When we came out, we were inside Miss Rachel's shed."

"I only have the ones that were attached to three dogs I found by the sewer," Rachel added, "There's probably a lot more down there."

"She's apparently building a group of bugs," the flea on her shoulder continued, "and she sends messengers ahead to prepare for her arrival. Some of those messengers followed the smell of dog food here, to feed their rats."

"Can she control you?" Lisa asked, "Against your wills?"

"We don't know," the flea said, "Probably not? The messenger said she's taking anyone who 'wants to' with her."

"Then do you want to go with her?"

The flea's expressions were hard to read, if there were any there at all, but its almost disturbingly human voice was plenty expressive, when it spoke, it sounded torn, "We're of two minds, honestly."

Rachel looks surprised at that, "What do you mean? Why do you want to leave? How many of you are going to?" she took a few steps closer to Lisa, narrowing her eyes down at the bug, before looking over the swarm.

"None of us want to leave Miss Rachel," the flea assured, "You've been generous, and this place has everything we need and more. But... we're curious. Meeting our cousins this morning came as a shock. We didn't know there were others. But apparently, there's a whole caravan in the tunnels under our feet. Not too long ago, we weren't people. Now, we are. We want to know why. And how."

The two human women shared a look as they processed that.

"...Okay. So you want to meet with her?" Rachel said, "Fine. We can do that. And we'll make her tell us everything."

"Now, hold on a minute," Lisa said, "We're still talking about an unknown Parahuman with a very scary power here. We have two days before she gets here, right?" Lisa smiled, "And we know where she's going to be. Why not do a little more digging before she gets here?"

"You mean go to the sewer?" the flea asked.

"Exactly. We can talk to other bugs who haven't met the Parahuman before, and see what they know. More than that, if we know where we'll be meeting her, we can make other kinds of preparations."

Like whether to bring in the rest of the team on this.

And what she should tell Coil.