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Silence is Not Consent

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Aleph said:
Honestly, especially in the aftermath of the Leviathan thing and the breaking of the Truce, I suspect that when Victoria learns what Armsmaster's role in Taylor's incredibly stupid "I'll be a mole" idea was - even just to the extent of "... fine, I guess, sure", she will hit the fucking roof. Like, this shit is why we have a bug-controlling warlord ruling a city district and refusing to trust the authorities, you asshole. That is a bad outcome! Don't do things that lead to that!
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To be fair to Armsmaster, his role in the whole thing was "Do not do this. Do not fucking do this. But unfortunately, I can't actually stop you."

And by Leviathan he was just like "She's getting a hell of a lot of lies past either my detector, or Tattletale's power. I don't know which it is and I do not, can not, fucking trust her."
 
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Collateral 2.4
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    • I stared at Skitter, trying to process the question she'd asked me. Trust her? Did I trust her? I didn't know where to start. The last time she asked that ended with a Hero pointing a grenade launcher in my face. And I couldn't even blame her for doing it!

    The experience had been circling in my head for days afterwards, taunting me. The total loss of control, the sudden break into violence. My memories were spotty with how chaotic things had gotten–and my own headspace at the time–but I remembered Skitter having to cover for my aura exposure as some sort of planned attack on her part.

    My aura. Which had started the fight in the first place. Which I'd lost control of, almost pushing things into violence, risking getting Skitter hurt, the heroes hurt, Bitch hurt, the dogs hurt.

    I hadn't meant to. I hadn't wanted to, or chosen to. Not like... not like A-Amy had. I wasn't like her. I was nothing like her. I would never be like her.

    But I'd still almost started a fight - hah, 'almost'. I had started a fight that had only avoided turning into a pitched, potentially lethal battle through Skitter's quick thinking. That it had been an accident triggered by trauma only reinforced why I couldn't be around people right now. If not for Skitter swarming everyone to keep them confused, and then claiming credit for the sudden burst of violence...

    I hadn't had the courage to ask her about it. To ask why. Why she took the blame, why she almost instinctively attacked the heroes before they could react or think things through. None of it made sense. But at the same time, how could I question her actions when they ended up saving me? She'd even stepped in front of her own teammate when it looked like a fight was about to break out over me trying to pet the puppy when he came up to me.

    My thoughts sharpened as I remembered that detail. That was something that had stuck out in the time since. Her teammates. Skitter had never talked about them with me directly, beyond what was necessary regarding Tattletale and Bitch. And even then, most of it was after the fact. But while I didn't remember all the aspects of that disastrous interaction with the Protectorate, their words were burned into my head. Hijack. One of her teammates was Hijack. I remembered him from the preemptive briefing that the Wards had gotten before Leviathan. It felt like years ago now. I remember Dean being so worried–

    My eyes were blurry as I clenched my fists. Skitter seemed to be giving me time to get my thoughts together, but I couldn't take much longer. The point was, Hijack was one of her teammates. Regent, from what I remembered. And she hadn't told me. Even if I hadn't met him yet… that was unacceptable. I still remembered hearing about how he'd mastered Shadow Stalker into an attack on the Protectorate HQ. Any villain that would do something like that, I needed answers from.

    I looked back up to Skitter, still staring at me. Her question was still hovering in the air. "Do you trust me?" I slowly held up my left hand, my thumb index and middle fingers splayed out, before closing them.

    "No," I signed.

    Skitter tilted her head, glancing at the ASL handbook on my bedside before turning back to me. "No?" she asked, though it was more of a statement.

    I nodded.

    She tilted her head, but otherwise didn't say anything. Looking for a distraction, I stared at the mandibles molded to the corner of her cheek. Were they sharp? Surely they had to be decorative. I knew that she was devoted to her theme, so it would be on brand.

    "Have I failed to provide you what I said I would?" Skitter's voice cut through the tense air.

    I shook my head. No. I couldn't pretend she hadn't followed through. Honestly she'd done more than I had any right to expect in that regard.

    There was another pause. "Have I betrayed your trust in some way?"

    That… was more complicated. A betrayal implied a specific promise or relationship, which we didn't have. She had said nothing of her teammates. I wasn't an Undersider, I'd made that clear from the beginning. I didn't necessarily have any right to know about her teammates under the rules of the Truce. And the closest thing to a commitment she'd made was promising Amy wouldn't hurt me again. She'd fulfilled that up to this point.

    But… it was more about the intent than the letter of the law. She'd held back information about her teammate that was directly relevant to me. Information she probably knew I would find uncomfortable. I could have walked right up to Regent if he had visited, not knowing what he could do to me.

    I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself. A week ago I might not have thought that would happen, but now I wasn't so sure. Was the Skitter I knew now really so different from the villain I'd seen her as before all this? I had to know for sure.

    My fingers spasmed, and I let out a tight frustrated sigh. I was learning sign but it was… hard. In a way not many things were. It wasn't just an intellectual issue, though learning a new language was always a challenge. My fingers just wouldn't do what I asked sometimes. Regardless, I grabbed the notepad beside me. I still had the coordination to write, thankfully. Muscle memory worked wonders.

    "Can't trust you. Hijack"

    "Ah," Skitter said. Her posture shifted. She hadn't relaxed exactly, but the tension in her frame was different. More in her shoulders than her back now. "I had wondered when that would come up."

    I glared at her. "So you knew I wouldn't like it"

    Skitter walked to the chair by the dresser, pulling it across from my position on the bed before sitting down. "I had a suspicion, yes."

    My chest felt hot and tight. Here it was. Proof that she had been lying to my face. About one of her teammates being a human master no less. My hand shook as I wrote. "Why?"

    Skitter let out a short breath. I wouldn't have heard it if she had sat any further back. For once, the bugs in the air and on the walls behind her were still. "You'll have to be more specific."

    I shot her a look. "Why hide it from me?"

    "A number of reasons," Skitter said. "It hadn't come up in any meaningful capacity. I meant to debrief from the encounter with the Heroes during the past few days but you were… indisposed."

    I flinched at the reminder, refusing to look at what had become of my room. She had a point there, much as it rankled me to admit. But that still didn't excuse her not telling me in the first place.

    She seemed to understand that her answer wasn't enough. "The other reason was that you weren't on the team. You said as much, multiple times. Unless you were looking to join the Undersiders directly, I don't typically give away details on my teammates powers to outsiders. I'm sure New Wave has a similar policy."

    That wasn't fair– I forced myself to stop. To consider this from her perspective, what it would look like if I were in her shoes. If someone on the other side that we were already sheltering of our own accord demanded details on my Mother's powers, just because it happened to intersect with their own trauma. If they hadn't asked first, but then got angry when I didn't think to share beforehand.

    The analogy wasn't perfect. Hijack–or Regent now I guess–had done a lot of genuinely inexcusable things in his career. I wasn't discounting that. But if I read between the lines… Skitter had never directly shared her opinion on those actions herself. Only what her policy was for all her teammates. A policy that, generally speaking, I couldn't disagree with.

    I didn't know what to do with that. Was Skitter good or bad for putting us in this situation? Was it deliberate at all, or just an unfortunate combination of events and timing? She hadn't actually put me in direct contact with Regent to begin with, but was that just making excuses for her? I wished I knew.

    I slowly raised my head back up to face her. "I don't like it. Tell me if he's coming before I see him. Don't want surprises."

    Skitter crossed her arms, staring at me for a moment before finally nodding. "I can accept that. You have a unique position, and you deserve to feel secure. But nothing more. You're either a member of the team or you're not."

    I nodded. That was fair. I wanted the line clear too. This mess had expanded beyond anything I had planned for, but at least this much I wanted to remain clear.

    Her posture changed again, finally relaxing as the tension broke. "With that said, I did come here to tell you more than that."

    I waited for her to go on.

    "The Protectorate incident exposed a dangerous contingency which must be addressed." Skitter's voice grew hard again as she faced me. "I understand that the release of your aura was unintentional, correct?"

    I forced myself to nod. It frightened me just thinking about it. That it could explode out of me without warning. Over the past few days I had been too terrified to even experiment with it, but thankfully it remained off. At some point my field had come back on when I wasn't paying attention, and I was terrified for a moment that the aura had too and I hadn't noticed, but thankfully it didn't. That association trick from earlier was useful, but I didn't want my powers to change any more than they already had. The Heroes shouldn't have felt fear. But that's clearly what happened, in retrospect.

    "Is it likely to go off again in a similar situation?"

    I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Honest, I had to be honest. This was a danger to her as much as it was me. "I don't know"

    Skitter tilted her head. "Explain."

    "Aura usually fluctuates. Can turn it up or down. After Amy, don't have a slider. Either on, or off." I paused. That was accurate but… I grit my teeth and added, "I think." I pushed myself to write that last bit. As humiliating as it was, I didn't entirely know this aspect of my powers anymore.

    Skitter considered that. "Is the field usually so one dimensional? I remember reading that it had a positive component as well at times."

    Wait, she read about it? When had she had time to–I wasn't going to consider that right now. This was too important. "Usually awe for people I like, fear for ones I don't. Not sure why Heroes felt fear"

    Skitter nodded. "I thought so. Regardless of why, it's clear for the moment that your aura isn't entirely under your control. That can be dangerous in the field."

    I dropped her gaze, trying not to shrink back into the covers bunched up behind me. I knew it was true, but it still hurt to have it said like that. Parahumans weren't defined by their powers, but they were pretty central to most of us. Losing control over something so basic felt like… well, like not being able to talk. Humiliating.

    "Victoria," Skitter's voice forced me to look back up. "This is not something to blame yourself for. It's not productive. Have you heard of secondary trigger events?"

    I nodded, not sure where she was going with this. We had started covering it in the last few courses I had attended at BrocktonU, before Leviathan suspended classes indefinitely. Some parahumans, under similar conditions to their original trigger, could "second trigger". Their power expressions changed, usually becoming more dangerous or at least easily weaponized. There was some theory about the Manton Limit being involved, but we didn't go much further than that.

    Skitter cleared her throat. "I saw… someone I know… go through one. Their power changed, some things were easier but some were harder. They had to adjust. I'm not sure if what Amy did is the same thing as a second trigger, I suspect not. But it's not unheard of for Parahumans to need to relearn their powers at times."

    My eyes didn't leave her yellow lenses. The murmur of voices beyond the door, the creaking of old wood against concrete, the small bugs crawling on my arm, none of it mattered. Why was she telling me this? I mean, the obvious answer was to help me process my emotions regarding my aura, so it would be less likely to go off in the future. But that didn't require her to share something so personal like that. She left the names out, but even still. Trigger events were not handled lightly, even by second generation capes like me.

    "Regardless," Skitter continued, "we have to assume that your aura might go active at an inopportune time like that again. That's not acceptable."

    I glared at her in exasperation. Here she was, providing a ready made reasoning behind why this loss of control wasn't my fault, and now she wanted to blame me again? What did she want?!

    No. This wasn't helping. Deep breaths. Focus on what I know. My aura went off when I hadn't planned to release it at all. That wasn't normal. I wasn't able to adjust the intensity after the fact. That wasn't normal either. Until I knew exactly what was going on, I couldn't afford for that to happen again. And despite my best efforts in the time since… I hadn't found anything that would let me do that. Thus my staying in the room.

    I clenched my teeth. This didn't change anything. But this affected Skitter just as much as it did me. I had to tell her.

    "I think it went off because I…panicked." My pen was almost tearing through the page. What do you suggest?"

    Skitter considered me for a moment before she reached into the pouch on the small of her back and pulled out a small mobile phone. She fiddled with it briefly before handing it to me.

    I took it, my confusion mounting. "I've pre-programmed it with a text to send to my number on a hotkey. You can use it to signal to me if talking is difficult, or your notepad is not nearby. You need to do this before your aura goes off, and I can manage things from there. Will that suffice?

    My breath left me in a rush. Skitter was… she had to know what she was doing here. Giving me my own phone, burner or not. Even if it was monitored, even if it was specifically to avoid a situation like the one a week prior, it still meant the world. That I could communicate, that I could tell someone when that happened to me again before it got to that point.

    "Thank you"

    Skitter nodded. "We can only test this in the field, unfortunately. I have a low stakes encounter that should provide a decent point of comparison, but you'll have to come with me."

    My head grew light. Come with her? Outside? The last time had been disastrous! No. No, that wasn't entirely accurate. That encounter was unplanned and dangerous, yes. But this one wouldn't be. I had something with me this time that I didn't before. I could tell Skitter when things got bad before it was unsalvageable.

    I looked at her, and nodded. One way or another, I had to find out if I could do it. And Skitter herself said that this was low stakes (whatever that meant).

    Skitter got up, the bugs surrounding us congregating and sliding into her hair.

    "Good. It'll be a few hours at the most, so if you need anything do it now. We're going to see Parian."


    A/N:
    This chapter, I suspect, is going to raise some eyebrows. It's the start of a lot of things that I really like as themes moving forward. Victoria learning to communicate without a pen and paper, as well as directly challenging Skitter's morality. But there are two main things I think people are going to take issue with.

    The first is Regent. I've done what research I could and canon is, to my knowledge, spotty on what exactly he was doing during this period, as well as how public it was. He had thralls in his territory, but how widespread that knowledge was as well as who those he mastered were is not made clear. Victoria here is reacting to Skitter's teammate who has a power she doesn't like with a bad history that he seemingly hasn't directly repeated here (beyond Shadow Stalker). This is far from the end of that conflict, but Victoria here is seeing Regent as a separate entity from Skitter. We'll see how long that lasts.

    The other main conflict is the second trigger comparison. And because I can already hear the comments I'll say it straight out: Victoria did not second trigger. Even if she could, it would be the lazy way out here. Skitter's comparison is just that; a comparison. In the ways that she's highlighting–the additional trauma and unfamiliar power expression–she has a point. And it gives Victoria something to focus on, an excuse for her suddenly diminished control that doesn't diminish her.

    Now that all that boring stuff is out of the way, recs! Today's is And They Were Roommates, by Partizanka. It's smut-adjacent so I'm not linking it here, but it can be found on Ao3. It's a fascinating dive into Taylor and Lisa's sexuality in a different context. I quite like it. Plus it's soft and gay, which is a nice reprieve after reading/writing this.
     
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    • "To make sure you don't panic: you might see Shatterbird around if things get rough."
    "...!"
    "That's still Regent, we have everything under control."
    "!!!"
     
    Honestly, I feel like Victoria's concerns about Regent are totally valid. I'm not sure exactly what the heroes know, but given that she identifies him as Hijack, they seem to know he is - legally, likely a murderer and rapist. She has no way of knowing his culpability in those matters was coerced, and him continuing to thrall people (including someone Victoria knows), does not give her any reason to think he isn't still up to no good. But I also think Victoria probably wouldn't believe Skitter would associate with someone who was continuing to commit sex crimes, or at least heavily doubt it considering her behavior so far, but that disconnect in who Skitter is vs what Skitter does has already come up.

    So yeah, a valid thing to cover before they went any further.

    As for Victoria's powers, well... It does symbolize her interactions with Amy pretty well. Put back together, but different and strange, in a way that's not Victoria's fault but that she still feels guilty about.
     
    Collateral 2.5
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    • My mind whirled as I tried to get my things together. Skitter was apparently gathering bugs or something from upstairs, which left me with a little time to get my thoughts straight. I nudged the laundry basket over to where my loaned shirts and jeans lay strewn across the floor and started sorting through both thoughts and clothes, trying to remember anything useful to what I was about to walk into.

    Parian. An independent cape, last I'd heard. She used to put together fashion shows on the boardwalk, before Leviathan swept most of it into the ocean. I remember attending one and liking it. She was cute and behaved well with the kids. Good aesthetics, I could appreciate that from a PR perspective. And one of the few capes in the Bay that had never been known to engage directly in violence. Which was probably why Skitter wanted to test this phone plan while talking to her, now that I thought about it; less room for things to go wrong. Though that did leave the question of why she wanted to talk to her in the first place.

    "You can do that later, the boss is ready for you now," a voice interrupted from the door. I paused halfway through habitually checking the pockets of a pair of jeans and looked up to see Charlotte leaning against the doorframe. She had her domino mask on as usual, but it looked slightly askew. Almost as if she'd been hastily putting it into place before coming in. Her dark eyes looked over me with something I couldn't quite name. I knew she didn't like me, but somehow it seemed a little less venomous than it had last week.

    She didn't move as I stood up and made my way to the door. I stopped in front of her and stared into her eyes. There was something in the air, I didn't know what, but it felt tense.

    "She's trusting you with this," Charlotte said.

    I nodded.

    "More than she has before. Parian isn't in her territory. She doesn't have backup. If things go badly, she's counting on you. Don't let her down, or I'll make you regret it," she said, her voice tight as she stepped aside.

    My thoughts stalled and I stared at her blankly. What? No, what? Skitter hadn't said anything about this! She'd made it sound like we were running a low stakes errand; why was she taking me if it was this risky? This brought up even more questions about why we were going to see Parian if she wasn't even on Skitter's turf. God, she might have been using me this whole time. Was I inadvertently playing part in a hit on an independent cape? How much of this had been a lie?

    There was no point asking Charlotte. If I wanted answers, I was going to have to get them from Skitter.

    I clutched my notepad tightly in my left hand as I walked quickly through the lower floor, making sure to avoid any of the kids in the way. Mom had taught me to be mindful of my Brute rating when I was emotional, and I didn't want to know what Skitter's medical options looked like here. The villain in question was standing by the door waiting for me when I got there.

    "Ready to go, Victoria?"

    No, no I wasn't. I raised my right hand and traced a question mark in the air. Skitter must have understood the natural sign for "Question".

    "What's the issue?"

    Fuck, I forgot that the violence sign needed two hands, and I wasn't good enough at this yet to continue the rest of the conversation. I brought out my notebook. "Violence against Parian?"

    Skitter shook her head. "No, that's not my aim here. I can go over more specific things on the way–Dolltown is far and we're already further behind than I'd like–but I can promise that I'm not trying to fight Parian."

    I stared at her. Skitter had started this conversation by asking me to trust her. I had my reservations, more than one. And for good reason. But by my own admission, she hadn't led me wrong so far. If I wanted to know for sure that she wouldn't stab me in the back or use me to do something I'd regret… at some point I needed to give her the opportunity to do it. It was scary, yeah, but I had options now that I didn't before. I knew my flight worked; I had tested that much over the past few days (even if only briefly). I had a burner phone. Even if it was monitored, it would be enough to contact the Protectorate or someone else to meet. I had options if I needed to break away.

    "Fine. Let's go"

    Skitter nodded. "Charlotte, take care of things here. Keep your phone active in case we need to update you. We'll be back in three hours."

    "Sure thing, boss."

    And with that, we were out the door.


    It was hard to know exactly what time it was. There weren't a ton of clocks or readily charged electronics after Leviathan ripped through downtown, and Shatterbird had ruined what little remained. Most people, I assumed, used the light like I did. This being June, it was light until around 8:30 or so. It should've been blinding right now, but the cloud cover sheltered us from the worst of it as we walked.

    For once, Skitter's swarm wasn't in full force. Usually the surrounding air was packed with insects dense enough to blot out the sun, but as we got closer to Dolltown she brought her bugs inwards, the insects settling among the gaps in her armor plating and the dark locks of her hair. The sudden absence of the roaring drone was unnerving. It always amazed me how much she could store back there without it looking obviously different. I guess the curls and color helped out a lot, but still.

    I brought out my notepad as we walked, trying to keep an eye on where we were going as I wrote. "Why no swarm?"

    Skitter tilted her head as we approached the next intersection. "Didn't know you paid that much attention."

    I almost stopped mid-step. What the fuck? Was she genuinely that unaware? Her insects numbered in the millions, they usually covered the air for blocks. The droning was so loud that it would be hard to make myself heard even if I could talk. Maybe her awareness of her bugs filled in the difference? She coated the tunnel walls in her bugs when we'd walked through the sewers that first night. At first I assumed that was some combination of intimidation play and navigation aid by sound. But if she wasn't line of sight limited–which she clearly wasn't–how much awareness of her insects did she really have? I'd have to give some thought on that later though, it wasn't relevant now.

    I felt the urge to flush as I realized how long I'd been awkwardly staring at her, but I held my ground. If this was a tactical decision, I needed to know.

    "Parian is in Ballistic's territory. He mentioned wanting to get Parian and her people out. But he hasn't done so yet. If I solve the problem before he gets to it, she might have a choice in how that happens. If Ballistic gets involved… the answer is going to be violence. That's not good for us."

    I nodded. That made sense, it was the same choice I would've made if I had known.

    "But at the same time, Ballistic doesn't know I'm doing this. He can't know. I'm infringing on his authority by doing it. That's the kind of thing that damages reputations, raises tensions and can even breed conflicts. I'm keeping an eye on everyone in the surrounding area, no one has seen us. But we need to be subtle. For Parian's sake."

    I glared at her. "And you didn't think to tell me this before?"

    Skitter tilted her head but stopped abruptly before the next corner. I waited with her. Another person that might've seen us, perhaps?

    "I figured you'd be in favor of the peaceful solution," her words were quieter now.

    I couldn't really argue with that, but I still didn't like the way she'd told me about this. As if I was someone who had to be managed with the right words at the right time to do what she wanted. Was that how she treated everyone, or was this just my perception? It was hard to tell; my only point of comparison was Charlotte. I didn't exactly have a ton of experience with supervillains and their relationships with their subordinates.

    But again, I had to remember our conversation from earlier. I wasn't an Undersider. We both agreed on that. From her point of view, I probably had no right to be angry at her for only giving me the information that mattered, right at the point when I needed it. Even so, it rubbed me the wrong way.

    "Fine. How long until we get there?" I wrote, shaking out my hand afterwards. It was getting hard to write; my hand and arm were cramping up somewhere and I couldn't seem to massage it out.

    "About five minutes." Her answer was instant and automatic. I got the sense her focus was drifting away from me, back towards the coming meeting, planning ahead for whatever she wanted to accomplish there.

    "Anything I should know?" I asked while I still had some of her attention.
    She shook her head. "Just let me do the talking when we get there."

    I glared at her, pointedly raising my notepad. There was an awkward silence. Any scheming or planning that had been distracting her sputtered out in embarrassment and she almost stammered, briefly thrown, before regaining control of herself. "I didn't mean to… I said that because the situation is delicate enough as it is, and I really don't want to have this devolve into a fight. Alright?"

    That was clearly the closest to an apology I was going to get from her. Still better than I expected, if I was being honest. I nodded shortly and tucked the notepad away, leaving us to walk on in terse, mutual silence.

    As we approached Dolltown, I realized why Skitter's answer had been so immediate earlier. Obviously her bugs helped, but you didn't need to be a Master to see the change in our surroundings.

    The smell was the first thing that jumped out as we slowly made the transition. It started as a funk or a bitter undertone, that quickly matured into a sour, fetid stink. I couldn't tell if it was feces or decaying garbage or what, but it smelled rank.

    The last month had not been kind to this district. The buildings were more recently worn down than the Docks that we had passed on the way here. It was easy to see massive handprints on the walls – from Menja I assumed. Other walls were covered in scratches and scrapes, complete with the occasional smear of dried blood. There was something… worse about this place, even in comparison to the rest of the city. It was hard to see why anyone would choose to live here. Though now that I thought about it, I suppose that was exactly the conclusion to draw. They hadn't.

    I had to watch my step as we made our way further in. No one had been around this part of the city outside of those who lived there, and it showed in the streets. My feet sunk into the mud covering the asphalt with a wet gurgle, eventually bothering me enough that I used my flight to lessen my weight.

    But that didn't take care of the debris. One of the things that I hadn't thought about in the Leviathan cleanup was just how much mess was left behind. The tidal waves caught every ground floor residence, and even up to the third or fourth floor in places, and pulled it all out. The streets were littered with the broken refuse of offices, stores, and homes. A twisted lamp, almost bent in half. A filing cabinet, probably dragged here from its original home miles away. A dress, nearly torn in half and long since stained brown from the mud and the sun.

    It was sized to fit a child.

    Skitter didn't look down once as she approached one of the buildings to our right. If there was some obvious difference singling it out, I couldn't see it. She must have felt people inside then.

    Sure enough, as we got closer, a voice yelled out to us from between the boards over one of the windows. "Go away! There's nothing for you here!"

    We stopped a few feet away from the door. "We aren't here to hurt you," Skitter said, projecting her voice outwards. "I just need to talk to Parian."

    "She's not here," the voice said, "Just leave us alone!"

    Skitter didn't pause. "I know she is. Just ask her if she wants to talk. No swarm, no tricks, we'll even let her pick where."

    We waited a moment, and then the front door opened. A giant stuffed bear doll stood in the entryway, its stitching worn and tearing along one of the seams in the arms. It had no right to look as imposing as it did… until I remembered that these dolls had stood up to Leviathan and survived. They had the water stains to prove it.

    Behind the bear was Parian, peeking warily out from beneath its massive left arm. She was unreadable behind her porcelain mask, but her tense shoulders indicated she definitely hadn't been expecting us. She was wearing her signature black Victorian styled dress, albeit a lot more ragged and stained than last I saw it. Given where she was living, that was hardly a surprise. Her blonde curls were still almost immaculate, if a bit more frizzy than normal. Impressive.

    "What do you want?" she said, her voice clipped.

    "What I said before," said Skitter. "To talk. Nothing more."

    Parian stared at us for a moment. I tried not to fidget. Did she recognize me? It was hard to say. The dye in my hair was still at least partially in, and I was wearing the clothes Skitter had gotten for me. My hood was up as well, since after she had mentioned wanting to be covert I thought it prudent. But the Heroes had recognized me before like this, I wouldn't put it past Parian to make the connection. Not that I could tell; her mask hid her entire face just like Skitter, so she could've been looking right at me and I wouldn't know.

    "Fine. Inside. But she stays out here," said Parian.

    "Not an option," Skitter replied. "She's under my care, it's my responsibility if something happens to her. You'd do the same for your people."

    I tried not to stare at her. That was… where did that come from? Was she just saying it to draw the obvious comparison to Parian's people, catch her off guard? Or did she really feel that way? You'd think she would've mentioned it during that conversation earlier, if so. We'd drawn a line between me and the Undersiders, and this blurred it. Even if it was just for show.

    Parian's hands clenched. "Fine. But no one else."

    "That's fine," Skitter said.

    Parian stepped back in time with her doll, leaving us space to enter. We walked in and the old wooden door creaked shut behind us. Without the indirect sunlight, the muggy summer air was a bit easier to take as we made our way down the hallway. The giant bear was ahead of us, each of its ponderous steps sending a tiny quiver through the floorboards, but I could hear the sharp clacks of Parian's heels further on. She was using the doll as a shield in case we attacked. I couldn't blame her for not trusting us. I wouldn't have, in her position.

    The residents of Dolltown retreated back into their rooms as we passed by. I couldn't get a good look at most of them, but the few that I saw had bags and cloth over their faces. A measure to protect their identity, or a mark of affiliation for Parian? I couldn't say.

    We reached what must have been the kitchen at one point, judging by the remains of the sink attached to one wall. I had no idea what happened here, but these people were in a bad shape if this is where they were staying.

    There were two more massive dolls facing us as we stepped through the door; a cat and a giant rabbit. Facing us in a line along with the bear from earlier, it was hard not to be intimidated. Parian seemed to think so too, as she visibly relaxed–even if only slightly–when they stepped up to flank her as she faced us. The bear swung to take up a guard post by the door, between us and her people.

    "Alright, what is it?"

    Skitter stepped forward. "I want you to leave the city."

    You could have heard a penny drop.

    "You can't possibly be serious!" Parian yelled, even as I tried to get my thoughts in order. Skitter had brought me out here to help with this? "These are my people, I can't just abandon them because you say so! I don't care who you are, get out. Clearly you have nothing of value to say. I should never have let you in."

    Skitter was undaunted. "No, you misunderstand. I want you and your people to leave, and I want to give you the tools to do it."

    The silence was even longer this time.

    Parian's dolls bristled beside her. "If this is some sort of a trick–"

    "No trick," Skitter said. "If I wanted to force you out, I would've brought my swarm and just attacked. I didn't. The people here in Dolltown, they're the ones who Bonesaw altered into copies of the Nine, right?"

    I froze. My throat closed up, sour lump lodging just behind my tongue, making me gag and my breath come in gasps. My thoughts swam dazedly, like Skitter's single sentence had been a two-by-four to the side of my head. The impact dizzied me, sending my brain reeling in circles, leaving my tongue and lower jaw so numb I couldn't feel them, unbalancing me so much that I tilted, stumbled, almost fell.

    The Nine. Ice trickled down my spine as I tried to suck in enough air through the suffocating hollow that had suddenly opened up in my lungs. The Nine. That's why they were covered in cloth masks. It wasn't protecting who they were, it was hiding who they'd been forced to look like. Forced by a biotinker who took their bodies and twisted, pulled, played with them until they looked just like she wanted–

    "Hey!" Skitter said, suddenly right in front of me. "You're here. Bonesaw isn't here, and neither is she. You're okay."

    I stared at her, thoughts running wild in my head. I… I wasn't okay. To deal. With any of this. But I could focus on not letting my aura out. That's what I had to fixate on. The rest could come later, when I had space.

    "What was that?" Parian asked, voice tense but questioning.

    Skitter turned back around. I kept my focus on my breaths, counting them out. "Flashback. She had something similar happen to her after the Nine. She asked me for help. I gave it. That much should tell you I'm serious."

    Parian took a step back, unsure. "It doesn't matter, that still doesn't answer the important thing. Why do you want to help us?"

    "Because I can," Skitter said, leaning back against the wall behind her. "Because this is Ballistic's territory, and when he comes, it won't be to talk. Because it's good PR for the Undersiders. Because the people here deserve better than this. Believe whatever you want, I don't care. But I'm offering help all the same."

    Parian looked at us, as if trying to figure out what Skitter wasn't saying. My heart rate was calming. Maybe this would end better than the encounter with the Protectorate. I hadn't lost control of my aura. I could handle this. It was okay.

    Then, just as Parian stepped forward, Skitter was suddenly moving, twisting, trying to get out of the way, but she was too slow, too late, there wasn't enough time, and–

    A metal bolt, almost a foot long, sprouted from Skitter's shoulder.


    A/N:
    Y'all didn't really think this would start any differently just because Victoria was there, did you? That would be way too easy. Serious talk, having that ending felt almost too trite in the draft, but I ended up happy with it in execution. The reasons and set up are different enough from canon that the context changes the result. I guess we'll get to see how this pans out on Monday. I'm sure that Victoria is not going to get a bad idea from this at all. Much thanks to the editors but Aleph in particular who basically cowrites this in everything other than name but won't. Let. Me. Credit. Her. In other news, has anyone else gotten carpal tunnel from writing too much? Can't say I'm a fan.

    Today's recommendation is Wounds Not Quite So Deep by the awesome RedWeezard, which just updated a few days ago for the first time in two years! Nearly gave me a heart attack. It's a no powers au that focuses on the emotional bonds between Taylor, Rachel and Lisa. A fantastic piece of softness in a fandom that usually lacks it. Give it a read.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Oh Lily. For someone who's power is striking at the right place at the right time, you chose the exact wrong time and person to skewer.
     
    Arsur3215Loki said:
    I don't blame him, my first thought when I saw something relating to bolt was SS till I remembered Flechette shot Skitter and left a bolt on her shoulder.
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    You know, after doing some research myself, I eventually realized that that bolt section was probably never removed from Taylor's shoulder in canon, even after she became a probationary Ward? If I remember correctly, a portion gets fused to bone - probably the scapula. I suppose it could be the clavicle, but that's pretty fragile and if it'd been in that location, that portion of bone could have just been surgically removed if not the entire thing, it's not a vital bone for having full range of motion.

    I wouldn't be surprised if at best, the remaining portions in her shoulder were just trimmed down until it didn't interfere with her range of motion.

    Really, it's a wonder that Lily didn't permanently cripple her, but inhuman aim *is* a part of her power. It's still *amazing* that she didn't knick the thoracoacromial artery. Superhuman aim or not, Taylor could *easily* have lost that arm or bled out before receiving medical attention.
     
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    Geas said:
    You know, after doing some research myself, I eventually realized that that bolt section was probably never removed from Taylor's shoulder in canon, even after she became a probationary Ward? If I remember correctly, a portion gets fused to bone - probably the scapula. I suppose it could be the clavicle, but that's pretty fragile and if it'd been in that location, that portion of bone could have just been surgically removed if not the entire thing, it's not a vital bone for having full range of motion.

    Really, it's a wonder that Lily didn't permanently cripple her, but inhuman aim *is* a part of her power. It's still *amazing* that she didn't knick the thoracoacromial artery. Superhuman aim or not, Taylor could *easily* have lost that arm or bled out before receiving medical attention.
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    Yeah I answered this in the SB thread but I'll copy it here

    In canon Lily used Sting to put the knife in Taylor's shoulder, and fused it there into the bone. She had to get that shoulder opened while they cut and ginded away the excess. In reality that would be wildly dangerous and probably permanently fuck up Taylor's shoulder either way. Like canon I had to bend the rules a little bit there, but that's functionally similar in setup (if not scale) to what we're dealing with here.
     
    justanothercat said:
    She had to get that shoulder opened while they cut and ginded away the excess.
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    Surgery wasn't my area of focus back when I was in nursing school (my thing that I was most interested in was learning about wound care to shore up my education in first aid), but having said that? Even today, I feel like that would be a goddamn tricky procedure, in a very large part due to the need to minimize the presence of any remaining debris as much as possible. Grinding away metal inside of a human body... Honestly, that's insane. You'd have to worry about not just the fragments of metal being left in surrounding tisue from the grinding/cutting but also having to worry about said fragments being hot enough to damage tissue. That's not even going into the very real possibility of nerve damage, clipping the artery that I mentioned earlier, the danger of infection from such a procedure (which I'm pretty sure would be unprecedented medically but I'm not 100% certain).

    There's almost certainly even more dangers that I'm not thinking of.
     
    I'm willing to bet the reason Lily attacked here is a mix of Skitter 'attacking' the protectorate patrol and that she's been told that 'obviously' Skitter is using Hijack to take control of capes for her own purpose. This is Lily attacking to 'save' Sabah from being mind controlled by Skitter and the Undersiders.

    It's one of the greatest tragedies of Worm. Not just the lack of communication, Taylor told the heroes what was going on, but that there's no Trust, something Vicky plainly saw when they refused to believe it. Even when told the truth, the Protectorate and the PRT were more willing to trust the Nazi's to keep their good word than believe Skitter.

    To be fair, it is absolutely reciprocated. Taylor trusts the heroes as far as she can throw them and, despite Taggs best efforts, she's no Brute.
     
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    Collateral 2.6
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    • Skitter let out a short, strangled sound and slumped, her body curling into the bolt holding her to the wall behind her. My pounding heart had me trembling, something hard and ashen lodged in my throat as I watched, frozen. What the fuck just happened? How did someone sneak up on her? I mean, she didn't have her swarm up, but this was Skitter. If she didn't have everyone within half a mile bugged since before we went through that door I'd eat my hoodie. And not just that, how did it go through her armor so easily? From what Charlotte had said, she'd fought Mannequin hand-to-hand. I'd read up on him in the days following the Nine's arrival, in case I needed to face any of them. While he had a myriad of tools at his disposal, his murders were all done with knives. Insanely sharp and lethal knives. Her armor must have at least been cut resistant for her to survive that.

    So how the fuck was she suddenly nailed to the wall? What kind of bolt could punch through her armor?

    Could it punch through mine?

    "Not so tough now, are you?" A voice interrupted my stuttering thoughts from the other side of the room. I looked up, and saw the assailant for the first time. She was wearing so much purple that I almost thought she was Tattletale at first glance. But no, there were lighter colored arrows all over her body breaking up the design, and she had a dark silver visor coloring her eyes that left her lower face exposed. Her mouth twisted into a sneering scowl as she advanced, her eyes locked on Skitter. In her hands was the thing that had put a bolt through the shoulder of my… guardian. A complicated looking crossbow, already loaded with another metal bolt.

    Instead of firing, the girl holstered the weapon, drawing a lighter knife from her shoulderband as she stepped in front of Parian. Shit. If she was putting the crossbow away, that meant she thought the knife would be just as lethal. She kept it trained on Skitter as her other arm went back to herd Parian behind her. "Get behind me, Pa–" she started, then froze as she finally looked past Skitter to see me.

    "Glory Girl?!"

    I clenched my fists, trying to think through my options. I had no idea what her power was, but I had to assume it could break my forcefield, for my own safety if nothing else. Meanwhile, Skitter hadn't made a sound yet. Being pinned to the wall like that had to be agony. I had no idea if she was in danger of bleeding out. And now the mystery cape recognized me? Why did I even bother with this stupid hair dye? Why did everyone keep butting into my business now, a week after I'd been rescued?

    She was still holding the knife. I had to answer her.

    I nodded slowly, not taking my eyes off of the blade. If she threw it, would I have time to dodge? Normal humans needed some degree of wind-up to throw anything with force; it would show in her shoulders and hips before she moved her hand. Unless she had some sort of Brute throwing-based power? Fuck, I hated working blind like this. It was what had gotten me taken out by the Undersiders at the... bank.

    A tiny, hysterical part of me found that thought funny, in a really sick way.

    The girl didn't take advantage of my distraction to step any closer, thank god. Instead, she pointed at Skitter.

    "What are you doing here with her?" she asked, putting enough venom in the last word to make her thoughts on our odd little alliance painfully clear.

    I swallowed, breathing unsteadily. My drawing pad was in my hoodie pocket, but if I reached for it would she take it as a threat? I had no way of knowing, and if I guessed wrong she might literally nail me to the wall for it. She'd already proven herself trigger-happy.

    Grasping at straws, I slowly brought my two hands up, curling all but my index fingers. I moved them perpendicular to one another and tapped them together, before tapping them the other way. The sign for "Friend".

    The cape glanced at Parian. "What's she doing?"

    "I don't think she can talk," she said, her voice tight. "Why are you here? I don't think this is a good idea Flechette–"

    Wait, she was Flechette? This girl was a Ward of the Protectorate? And she'd nailed Skitter to a wall without provocation? What the fuck? Now that I knew her name, the memory clicked. She was the Ward from New York that had arrived after Leviathan. Her power was something about a Striker intangibility power with a Thinker subrating for aiming. I wished I could remember better now. She had seemed so shy and hesitant that first time we'd talked. I couldn't match that quiet wallflower of a girl to a vicious ambush like this. Had something changed? Had some run-in with the Nine left her on such a hair trigger? I hadn't heard about her getting involved in any of the fights, but everything had been chaotic and I'd missed a lot even before... before.

    I needed answers.

    I wasted no time bringing out my notebook now. She had recognized me as a Hero, and if she was a Ward she hopefully wouldn't attack one of her own.

    "Why did you hurt her?"

    Flechette frowned at me. Like impaling people unprovoked was such an obvious no-brainier she didn't understand why I had to ask. "Well–because she's Skitter! Because of you! I was checking on Parian, we try and do some outreach stuff where we can, and I found Skitter backing her into a corner!"

    "We were just talking," Skitter said, the first sound she'd made since she'd been shot. I tried to check on her out of the corner of my eye without being obvious. Her breathing was labored and she was keeping her wounded shoulder flat against the wall so as not to pull or twist the metal bolt going through her. The angle it had come from forced her slightly up onto tiptoe, and she was curling her other shoulder in, trying to minimize her profile. I could just make out a darkening stain at the tips of her fingers where the blood was ticking down her arm.

    Flechette glared back at her, brandishing the knife again. "Yeah? Talking's not usually your style, I hear. More often the 'hit first, ask questions never' type."

    Skitter shifted slightly. The bolt wasn't getting any better, and keeping the pressure off it was obviously tiring her. "Was trying to do better this time. Wanted to help Parian. That's why we were here."

    "And the last time you were seen around two Heroes, Panacea goes missing and Glory Girl goes AWOL. And then she pops up with you guys, a team with a known human Master. So no, I don't think I'll trust you," Flechette shot back.

    I forced myself to stay still, focusing on keeping my breathing even. Trying to ignore the hollowing feeling in my chest and the pounding of blood in my ears, the blooming panic and rage emerging from the shock and terror. God, why did she have to push all my buttons at once? It's not like she knew, but this whole confrontation was a ticking time bomb waiting for my aura to go off. And I couldn't exactly use my phone to ping Skitter–she couldn't do anything. I should've used it earlier…

    It was hard to tell if the groan Skitter let out was one of exasperation, or pain. "You know, you could just ask her."

    I felt the gaze of the two capes fall on me. What was I supposed to say? I looked down at the pad in my hand, and took a deep breath. The pen creaked audibly under my grip.

    "Amy hurt me, after the Nine. It was bad. Needed help. Skitter saved me. Let me stay, think." Plastic cracked and I hastily pocketed the pen before I snapped it in half. That would have to be enough.

    Parian clenched her fists tightly, her stuffed animals shifting footing into wide stances beside her. Did she believe me? Were the implications of what I had written touching a nerve? Or was it just the violence and Flechette and Skitter's presence? I wished I could see at least part of her face.

    "That… sounds like a lot, Glory Girl, but I don't know if that's really you. It could be Regent hijacking you, trying to play up a sob story," Flechette said. "Why don't you let me arrest Skitter, and come back to base with me? We can get you screened, and contact your family."

    I… there was a part of me, even a few days ago, that would've said yes. That would've leapt at the chance to put this all behind me. Nothing had made sense since I woke up to Skitter standing over me in that bathtub, and it was so tempting to go back to those black and white borders between who was bad and who wasn't.

    But I couldn't. Skitter was the one who had saved me from that monster. And it was a Ward who'd shot her and pinned her to the wall without even trying to talk. I knew which one I was choosing. Which I had to choose, if I wanted to call myself a hero.

    I slowly stepped between Flechette and Skitter. Defying the Ward in defense of the warlord. The look on her face said it all.

    "Glory Girl? What are you doing?"

    "D-d-don't t-touch h-her." The words forced their way out, raspy and throaty but honest. They burned like hot coals coming up my throat. But it was worth it.

    Flechette took a step back. "She… she's a villain, Glory Girl. Skitter. She held your sister hostage at the bank the first time she went out, remember? They shot you! Maybe you don't remember, maybe whatever the Nine did to you was too much, but trust me when I say she's not on your side. Please, just… trust me?"

    I gave her a sad smile, and shook my head. No, I couldn't do that. She was the one who'd started this when it was halfway to a peaceful resolution; she hadn't earned that trust from me. Skitter, for all her faults and failings (and they were numerous), had. At least, for now.

    Flechette's gaze hardened as she looked at Skitter behind me. "I don't know what you've done to her, but it's sick."

    "Flechette," Parian said, "maybe it's not–"

    "But I don't care," Flechette continued. "I don't buy it. I see you, Skitter. I see who you are. Yeah, maybe you were just talking this time, but you're always looking for another angle. A week ago you were kicked out of the Truce meeting, and now you're all trying to claim the whole city as your turf. That doesn't come out of nowhere."

    "Funny, it sounds really straightforward when you say it like that," Skitter replied, and I glanced back at her. Her voice sounded almost normal, apart from the strained note I doubted Fletchette or Parian would recognise. There was no wetness or blood-foam, which meant that the bolt had missed her lung. Small mercies.

    "But it's always more complicated," she continued. "You wanna know why we're claiming territory, why I was here talking to Parian? Because we can help, and we know the Heroes won't. I came here to offer Parian the chance to get her and the people of Dolltown out before Ballistic smashes their door in," she said, her gaze not leaving Flechette.

    "You say that, but Ballistic is on your side! You don't get to claim credit when you're fixing a problem you started," Flechette snarled.

    The laugh Skitter let out caught us off guard. "As if you all have any right to judge. Armsmaster is suspended without leave right now. You wanna know why? Because he hung me and the villains out to dry, and your bosses know it."

    "There's no direct evidence of that–" Flechette started.

    "Please," Skitter said, "Don't make me laugh. The broken Endbringer armband I hid says otherwise. The women's bathroom on Brooke street has it above the ceiling tile over the second stall, if you care enough to check. He shorted it out when Leviathan was on top of me, and left me to rot.

    "But I think your actions here speak enough." She prodded the bolt stuck in her shoulder. The dark stain was spreading out to soak her shoulder, spreading down her arm like a river. Her own blood dropped from the tops of her claws where her arm hung slack, falling to the linoleum and bursting into little pools of red. I tried not to look. Keeping my eyes on Fletchette was more important, and the quiet drip-drip made my stomach turn over. "I was coming here to offer a cape help," Skitter drove home, "and you decided that I was a threat. You were the one to escalate, not me. I helped a girl get away from a family that abused her, and your solution is to blame me for it. How brave."

    The silence was sharp enough to cut a diamond. It hurt to admit, but I was on Skitter's side in this. And I didn't know what that meant for me.

    "What were you offering?" Parian said.

    Flechette quickly turned to look at her. "Parian! No! Don't listen to them!"

    She put a hand on Flechette's shoulder. It might have been an appeasing gesture, if not for how the heavy paw of the bear puppet mirrored it. "They're here talking about my people," she said firmly. "Not yours. If I want to hear them, I will." She turned back to Skitter, waiting for her to answer.

    "Supplies," Skitter said, "and money. Enough to get them the surgeries they need, and get them out of the city. This place has seen enough shit, it doesn't need more."

    Flechette opened her mouth again, but Parian stopped her. "Two days. You get two days to act on this. If you don't, then I let Flechette tell the rest of the Heroes what happened here. Okay?"

    Skitter stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, I can work with that."

    Parian nodded. "Good. I'm going to take the people here and leave. This place clearly isn't safe enough anyways." She glared at Flechette, who seemed to wilt.

    The two walked by us, Flechette glaring at Skitter the whole way. I didn't let them out of my sight. I didn't trust Flechette. Not after this.

    "Skitter," Parian said, as she paused at the door. "I'm sorry about how this happened. But I'm not sorry it did."

    They didn't say anything else as they left. I let out all my breath in a sudden sigh, rushing over to Skitter's side. Fuck. I had no idea how to even begin fixing this. The limited first aid classes I'd taken felt woefully inadequate.
    "Don't bother trying to pull it out of my shoulder," Skitter said. I glared at her. I knew enough not to yank an impaled object out of a wound, thank you. The bolt was probably the main thing keeping all her blood in.

    "Whatever her power is, it bonded with the wood behind me," Skitter added helpfully. "I suspect it's fused to my bone now. You'll need to dig out the wall surrounding it."

    My heart leapt up into my throat. It was what? How on earth was I supposed to– did Flechette seriously just casually inflict a potentially permanent injury on a teenaged cape without even thinking about other options first? If Skitter wasn't in need of medical attention…

    I shook my head, and set about doing as Skitter asked. "This is going to hurt" I wrote quickly, my words an almost unreadable scribble of leaking ink and trembling hands.

    "Don't worry about it," Skitter said. "I'm tracking everyone. Parian was telling the truth, you have time."

    I started to slowly close my fingers around the shaft jutting out of her back, trying not to jostle her too much. It was an awkward process. There wasn't a lot of clearance between her and the wall, and if she was right about the bonding to the bone issue then I couldn't even slide her further up the shaft to make room. So instead I had to slowly reach around her, chest to chest, slipping my arms up her back to feel out where the bolt exited her shoulder blade.

    "I'm sorry I didn't mention the Bonesaw modifications ahead of time," Skitter said as the wall groaned beneath me.

    I glanced at her. Was now really the time?

    "I didn't know that it was Parian who had taken care of them. Thought she just had people that needed money for transport elsewhere. Otherwise I would've told you, like we agreed."

    I grunted an acknowledgement, and she didn't speak any further.

    The plaster made a dry cracking sound as my fingers dug into it, slowly carving through the layers until I found the head of the bolt. I got a good grip with one hand, used the other to cup the area around her shoulder blade and tried my best to smile at her like I knew what I was doing, my face bare inches from her impassive mask. Pressed this close, I could feel her labored breathing and the tension thrumming through her whole frame.

    With a deep, calming breath to bolster my nerves, I slowly and carefully drifted backwards, pulling Skitter, the bolt, and a small chunk of the wall with me. She sagged into me for an instant, so quick and fleeting I half thought I'd imagined it, before straightening as much as she could. She still stood in that awkward half-curled stance, one shoulder held carefully straight so as not to jostle the rigid metal bolt stuck through it, the other pulled in towards it defensively. But her back was straight and her voice was strong as she spoke.

    "Good job, Victoria."

    I grinned, shaking the plaster dust off my hands. Okay, one problem solved. As if sensing my relief, Skitter continued, "Now comes the hard part."

    My grin turned into a groan. Of course it wasn't over. Low stakes outing my ass.

    The sound I let out must have been enough for her to understand my unasked question. "We need to get back home. I need tools to fix this, and we don't have them here."

    Fuck, she was right. How would we do that, though? It would take a miracle if for her to walk anywhere like this without causing additional damage. I could carry her, but that would draw attention that would likely get back to Ballistic. And she couldn't use her swarm to cloak us for the same reason. What did that leave us?

    Skitter slowly turned to face me.

    "You need to fly me back."


    A/N:
    Writing Flechette in this was a lot of fun! She's prickly as hell, and I had to reread the canon confrontation just to see how much. But as with canon, she's not entirely wrong here. Everything she's known or been told is that Skitter is a violent criminal, liable to lash out at any possible moment. That and she's head over heels for Parian. I can't entirely blame her… just mostly. Don't worry Victoria, I'm sure things will get better and less complicated. Any second now.

    No rec today because I have news! First, I have commissioned cover art for this story. You can thank the utterly fantastic and incredibly talented Vigil for this masterpiece. I've appended it to the first chapter, as well as an informational post below.

    The other thing is that I have a ko-fi! Writing (and this project in particular) is more of a passion than anything else, and I'm not looking to fund myself that way. But fanart is expensive to commission, and I believe in paying artists what they're worth. If you have an interest in getting more, feel free to take a look at me there. Happy reading!
     
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    • [ID: A notepad sits on a desk next to a sunlit window, the words "Silence is NOT! consent" written on it in heavy lettering. A snapped pen lies half on top of the page, leaking ink, with several more broken and unbroken pens and pencils in a pot beside it. Resting on one corner of the pad is a heavily corroded and acid-pitted golden tiara. Several moths are peacefully perched on the desk around the notepad or on one of the pens in the pot; a quiet, gentle presence.]
    Credit to the awesome Vigil for this masterpiece.
     
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    • Ah. I can already imagine the title drop.

    And yeah, Lily was partially in the wrong here, but she did what she thought was right in regards to "Skitter is a violent criminal and may be mind controlling others to work for her", even if it was extraordinarily overkill. But morality in Worm is complex, and you can never be sure you know everything about a situation before involving yourself.

    It does make me wonder if these changes will impact Parian's and Lily's canon joining of the Undersiders. I feel like Vicky herself, if given a vote, wouldn't trust Lily after this.

    Also, "Think a little bit more about potentially crippling and harming someone just because they're a criminal" is a little hypocritical coming from you Vicky. But that's a part of human irrationality, Skitter means more to her than just another criminal on top of how she's also figuring her out, so it's different to her. I can also imagine it's a little bit of stockholm syndrome and a little bit of post-traumatic co-dependency influencing Vicky. Of course, stockholm syndrome isn't 100% applicable here (not that the heroes would see it that way), the whole point is that Vicky is choosing to stay with Skitter of her own free will and isn't being held captive, but I don't have another word for "growing emotional attachment to the supervillain who saved me and is taking care of emotional and physical needs, but is also still a supervillain criminal and will continue to do so until...well she murders one of the greatest heroes in the world, and returns to being a villain to save the world." I think I might just call it Skitter Syndrome, and the more I think about it, the more I see it applicable to more of the main cast of Worm.
     
    ic3shard13 said:
    Parian X Flechette looks pretty dead. Is this the law of equivalent exchange?
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    Now I'm just trying to remember if "Hey, remember that time you impaled me with a crossbow bolt? I do. It's still in my shoulder. Thanks for the chronic pain." ever came up after they joined Skitter in canon. Seems like an awkward thing to bring up on Undersiders karaoke nights.

    But yeah... This does feel like a ship sinking moment for the HMS Cross-stitch. Shooting someone in cold blood doesn't seem like it would endear pacifist Parian to Lily.

    Also, Victoria spoke! In defense of Skitter!!
    That's a huge step forward.
     
    Zedman7054 said:
    I don't have another word for "growing emotional attachment to the supervillain who saved me and is taking care of emotional and physical needs, but is also still a supervillain criminal and will continue to do so until...well she murders one of the greatest heroes in the world, and returns to being a villain to save the world." I think I might just call it Skitter Syndrome, and the more I think about it, the more I see it applicable to more of the main cast of Worm.
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    For added irony, despite settling on the name Skitter Syndrome, Taylor herself becomes emotional attached to Lisa first, precisely because Lisa starts taking care of Taylor's needs, giving her money, expanding her friend network, giving her something to do besides stewing in self-loathing and hatred because of the betrayal of a sister-in-all-but-blood.
     
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