Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
All hail Imp, patron guardian of punchbug! Saving the
Silence is Not Consent
- Thread starter justanothercat
- Start date
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- Tags
- worm
All hail Imp, patron guardian of punchbug! Saving the
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Victoria nods her head.
Coil vs Dragon is a fight I want to see. Don't remember any fics where it happens.
- Location
- The Internet?
I do love characters talking, having misconceptions about each other, and operating with incomplete information. It's awesome, possum!
Little did they know, but the Undersiders were just the latest villains to wander into the labyrinthine phone maze set up by the Guild to stymie villains. Rumor has it, there are still capes from the earliest days of the Guild, on hold to this very day.
Should these be capitalized?
No, it trumps it. I mean, she's a Stranger, not a Trump, no wait, I- what was I talking about again?
Who covered Imp? This is post second trigger, where his smoke lets him copy powers of people in it, right? So if he covers up Imp, does that mean people forget about him? It would take him a second to find the mental 'off' switch, right? Oh good grief, imagine being caught up in his darkness, and then forgetting the source of it. Just... nothingness, from an unknown source. Spooky.
"And if I'm lying, let a bolt of lightning strike me dead!"
Yeah! She's a known unknown! An unknown... known? I forget.
"Agent! Age-ent!" "Tattletale, we've been navigating this menu for three hours!"
Little did they know, but the Undersiders were just the latest villains to wander into the labyrinthine phone maze set up by the Guild to stymie villains. Rumor has it, there are still capes from the earliest days of the Guild, on hold to this very day.
Geas
Meat Thing
Aisha, why you so Aisha?
I mean, yeah, I love that lil' goblin, but if I had to deal with her on a regular basis I legit might have to really work had to not pull a Homer Simpson and choke that child. Also...
*looks thoughtful*
Miiiight just be me projecting a wee bit (I may be up there in years but I do remember being something of a little bastard goblin myself back then) but I get the vague sense that Imp maybe, just maybe, miiight actually just be feeling a wee bit bad about how Victoria reacted to her 'innocent little joke.' Not that she'd ever own up to that (I certainly never did at her age), plus she's dedicated to the villain role because Grue is (also Skitter as well) so she's just gotta be the bad girl.
Also, I can't help but wonder, was Dragon actually banking on Victoria instead of the Undersiders using that line to call her but was still hoping either way, or did she drop damn near everything the instant her systems alerted her to Tattletale's keywords and voice print? To be fair though, I also have to ask myself 'does that even matter?' Her being an AGI makes it moot, even taking her shackles into consideration.
I mean, yeah, I love that lil' goblin, but if I had to deal with her on a regular basis I legit might have to really work had to not pull a Homer Simpson and choke that child. Also...
*looks thoughtful*
Miiiight just be me projecting a wee bit (I may be up there in years but I do remember being something of a little bastard goblin myself back then) but I get the vague sense that Imp maybe, just maybe, miiight actually just be feeling a wee bit bad about how Victoria reacted to her 'innocent little joke.' Not that she'd ever own up to that (I certainly never did at her age), plus she's dedicated to the villain role because Grue is (also Skitter as well) so she's just gotta be the bad girl.
Also, I can't help but wonder, was Dragon actually banking on Victoria instead of the Undersiders using that line to call her but was still hoping either way, or did she drop damn near everything the instant her systems alerted her to Tattletale's keywords and voice print? To be fair though, I also have to ask myself 'does that even matter?' Her being an AGI makes it moot, even taking her shackles into consideration.
- Location
- The Internet?
Would 100% watch "That's so Aisha." But like, instead of the Disney channel, it's on HBO or something, and basically the Wire mashed up with Punk'd because she does crimes, but also she messes with people. For laughs
But she's not the bad girl, she's the bad guy. Duh.
As for the line, Tattletale is explicitly the one that brings it up, prompting Vic to remember, 'oh yeah, that is a number I know' after the fact. I think that even if Dragon knew Carol would spill the beans to her poor, wayward child that just needs to come home so everything can be fine, again, I doubt she was expecting any communication from the Undersiders. Also, I know Dragon's as friendly as a massively powerful AI can be, but justanothercat did a great job with a cliff-hanger-y end line. I figure it's not intended this way, but it's got that eldritch-esque, Mass Effect Harbinger Vibes. "Your gang has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Dragon is your salvation through prosecution
Oh no this was very much intentional. I'm of the opinion that Dragon is hands down the most functionally terrifying parahuman on Bet barring Contessa and Scion (if he counts). If you take off her restrictions and allow her to go full bore? You're not fighting a parahuman anymore. You're fighting a tinker tech outfitted, telepathically linked, thinker enabled army. And any move you make, any fault or weakness will be exploited instantly and relentlessly literally faster than you can comprehend. She is, quite literally, the sleeping dragon. Don't poke her.
- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
This continues to be amazing. Imp is SUCH a little imp, and everyone else continues to be so well characterized. I loved seeing Lisa finally cotton onto Vicky's genuineness. Cant WAIT to see more!!!
Binary 3.5
"Dragon!" Tattletale said, a slightly strained smile spreading across her face. She was off-balance. All of us were. There was no way the automated message service had flagged down Dragon's attention this fast. Tattletale simply hadn't said enough - she'd only got three words out! Which meant that this wasn't a case of us getting lucky and being noticed. She'd been waiting for our call.
"I don't suppose I could convince you this was a wrong number?" Tattletale tried, a fake laugh hiding the fear in her voice. She'd realized the same thing I had. So had Skitter, though I wasn't sure about the others.
"Not quite, Tattletale," Dragon replied. I couldn't see her, but there was an indulgent smile in her voice. Even so, I was breathing faster. I would never have guessed that a phone could be intimidating, but the world narrowed around the little black shape in Tattletale's hand like the beat before a grenade going off. "You went through a lot of trouble to get my attention," she said. "Well, you have it."
"Yes, but we have conditions–" Grue started before Skitter placed a hand on his arm, stopping him mid sentence. He looked at her, but whatever she conveyed in a moment's silent communication was enough to drain the tension out of him like sand in an hourglass. Skitter took the lead instead.
"There's something we need to talk to you about, Dragon. As fellow capes," Skitter said, taking a step closer to the table and splaying out a hand across the worn wood.
"Skitter," Dragon said, her voice tinny from the tiny speaker with nary a hitch in her speech, "And I assume that was Grue who was talking earlier. Who exactly am I speaking to?"
"The Undersiders," Skiter replied. "Myself, Tattletale, Grue, Regent, Bitch… and Victoria."
We all heard the sharp intake of breath on Dragon's end in response to that. Well that was a reaction. "Victoria? If that's you, I need to confirm Master Stranger protocols. What was the last code used by the Wards?"
My tension ratcheted higher. This was wrong. This was all wrong. There was no way a single call-and-response could clear me of Master influence. Not when I'd spent as much time in Skitter's territory as I had, especially given Regent's public history. Any response I gave could easily be Tattletale doing background research on me prior, or other power interactions. Dragon had no reason to believe that I was in control of myself.
Which left only one conclusion: she was deliberately pretending to clear me in front of the Undersiders. For what reason, I could only guess.
I turned to Skitter, who was staring at Tattletale as if her teammate was holding a venomous snake that might decide to bite at any moment, and hesitated. I could do one of two things here. I could just give her the password from the last time I had been with the Wards, and no further context. That would be the safe thing, and what Dragon clearly expected. It wouldn't tell her whether it was really me or Regent, but it would at least confirm that the Undersiders weren't tipped off about the double bluff.
The other option… was to tell Skitter about the subtext of Dragon's play and hope she kept it to herself. My breath felt tight in my chest as I weighed my choices. I didn't know which to pick. Skitter had promised me earlier that no matter what she said at the meeting, she wouldn't let Regent get to me. Despite my fears, I hadn't felt anything like his power. And while the Heroic thing to do would be to side with Dragon against these Villains... I wasn't sure if that was the heroic thing to do. Not when I'd promised to try to help them out of the pit they'd dug themselves. Not when they might not be villains.
I felt a fly brush the back of my hand, and my resolve firmed. It was risky, but I felt like I could trust in that upheld promise. In her. And in my ideals. Deceptions and deliberate obfuscations were what had gotten us all into this mess.
"E-n-o-l-a one five five," I carefully signed, not looking away from her. Her eyes might be on Tattletale, but I knew I held just as much of her attention. "But that was the code when I left. There's no way this can confirm I am who I say I am."
Skitter's mask was inscrutable, even her body language gave away nothing. Thank god I had learned how to sign, otherwise I'd be reduced to the notepad and the rest of the group could read that.
"Don't say the second part out loud," I signed. Skitter said nothing, just cocked her head slightly as her gaze bored into the innocuous little burner phone that Tattletale had at arm's length. What she thought Dragon could do through it - or what she intended to do in response – I had no idea. It didn't really matter, I supposed. The real question was whether she would understand why I was asking and follow through.
"Enola one five five," Skitter repeated, glancing back at me for a second. The centipede on the palm of my hand curled around my thumb, almost as if saying 'I hope you know what you're doing'. I gently squeezed, just hard enough for it to feel but not enough to crush it. That made two of us.
Dragon sighed. "I'll have to trust that, in the absence of anything else. I hope you're doing well, Victoria, circumstances being what they are. I wish I could see you, but there's no camera on this thing."
Tattletale let out a bark of laughter, missing our secret conversation as she started to pace, fingers white-knuckling on the plastic casing. "Yeah, sorry Dragon," she scoffed, "but we value our privacy a little too much for that. The phone we called on has no camera, and we ripped out the GPS locator too. You might be able to triangulate the signal with enough time, but it's bounced through a relay and we're in a temporary location anyways."
"You'll have to forgive me for the attempt," Dragon said smoothly, seemingly unbothered by the assertion that she was attempting to track our location even as we spoke, "otherwise I wouldn't be doing my job."
"That's beside the point," Skitter said. Her left hand fisted where it laid on the table, even as the a buzzing drone intensified hear the door and windows. "We have a problem."
"Well I'm afraid I'm not likely to be able to help," Dragon replied, unfazed. "I'm not in the habit of doing the bidding of villains."
Ice poured down my spine at the way she said it. The superficially pleasant tone covered a naked threat, and a wave of menace rippled out from the tiny speaker and the vast, unstoppable weight of technological power behind it. I saw Tattletale wince, Regent's lazy smile falter, Grue stiffen. Even Bitch bared her teeth and swallowed, pulling her dog closer. In that moment, Dragon commanded the room without even having a presence in it.
Only Skitter didn't react. Not visibly, at least. Instead she plowed ahead, stubborn and straightforward as ever.
"We know what happened to Dinah Alcott."
Dead silence. For a second I was terrified Dragon had broken the connection, then hot on the heels of that came an even less rational fear that she hadn't, that the utter quiet from the other end of the line was because she'd pushed off from her desk somewhere in Canada and was somehow about to show up in person. I didn't even realize how fast my heart had started to pound until she spoke again.
"Dinah Alcott. Thirteen years old. Last seen at her home in the company of her parents. She went missing months ago, on the same day as your debut when you robbed a bank. Initially thought to be a kidnapping, no culprits found, presumed dead until Coil's admission of culpability during a Truce meeting regarding the Nine. Be very careful with what you say next, Skitter."
I swallowed. I had a few conversations with Dragon at one point or another when I was with Dean. Mostly overhearing her collaborating with Armsmaster for one thing or another. She always struck me as friendly and warm. This… was not that. She was cold, and harsh. This was the voice of a Tinker who had the resources of a small country to draw on, and wasn't afraid to use them. The calm and frank tone reminded me of an undertaker. Suddenly I couldn't shake the thought that we'd all just been professionally weighed and measured for extermination, our every bit of data gathered and analyzed down to the last byte. A digital coffin drawn up for each of us.
Skitter's swarm writhed, but to her credit she didn't hesitate much before replying. "We're calling to help save her."
The silence this time was longer, but no less suffocating. "Explain."
"You were right to bring up the bank job," Skitter said, and even her composure was starting to crack now. Not much; barely noticeable to someone who didn't know her, but she was talking faster, rushing to say her piece before Dragon made up her mind one way or the other. Still, her posture hadn't changed. "That was a distraction for Coil, our boss, to grab Dinah without interference from the heroes. But he only told us about that after the job was done."
"Did he," Dragon said, her voice unreadable. Or at least, unreadable to me. Whatever lay under the flat, level tone, Tattletale definitely picked up some of it. She blanched, and almost stumbled in her pacing. Robotically, she turned back to the table and put the phone down like it would bite her if she jarred it too hard. Grue waved her back with one big, leather-clad arm, planting himself over it and looming like he was planning to throw himself on it if it exploded.
"Coil hired us as a combination of muscle, and small-time petty thieves," Skitter pressed on. The tremble in her voice was barely noticeable, I had to wonder if the microphone picked up on it at all. "That's all we were invested in. But by the time we realized what he was using us for, it was too late. Dinah is a Thinker, one of the most powerful precognitives I've ever seen. She gives exact odds on future events happening, with no restrictions we've encountered yet."
"Mmm. Yes, Coil said as much when he implied she was with him willingly. I didn't think much of his claims then, and I'm still waiting to hear why I should believe you now."
Fuck. I hadn't considered the Heroes just not believing Dinah's power was as strong as Skitter claimed. But... well, Coil had talked her up to get everyone to follow his plan. A plan that had left his pet Villain groups in control of most of the city. Lying about a powerful precognitive supporting your plan to get people to do what you wanted was stupid in the long run, but plenty of Villains had done dumber things to get a leg up against their competition. The Heroes couldn't afford to discount his claims, but they couldn't just take them on faith, either.
"The power you describe is stronger than any precognitive power I've ever heard of," Dragon continued mercilessly. "Most of the Thinkers the PRT has access to don't give information anywhere near that accurate or accessible. You can see why I'm inclined to be skeptical."
Skitter nodded pointlessly. Another sign of nervousness – it wasn't like Dragon could see her. "Then it should mean something that I'm claiming it anyways when it would be easy to fact check later. Coil knew what her power was. He kidnapped her to use her. He keeps her drugged in a secret location we don't have access to, presumably for better access to her power."
I wish I could see Dragon's face to know how she was reacting to this. I knew I was still barely able to hold in my rage at her plight; at the unfairness, the sheer cruelty this innocent little girl had been exposed to because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong power. Because the wrong person wanted to own her.
"We didn't sign up for this," Skitter said, her voice wavering ever-so-fractionally. My centipede was scurrying around and around my palm in nervous circles, and I did my best to stroke it soothingly as it moved. Her bugs – I double-took, and had to hold back a wince. Some of her bugs were actively attacking others – no, not attacking. Eating. She was feeding parts of her swarm to the most dangerous ones; the spiders and wasps and dragonflies. Like stress eating, I thought, and had to muffle a hysterical giggle.
"We didn't know Coil's power yet," Skitter continued, even as the swarms began to dim the light coming from the windows, "or his long term plans, so we tried to fix it ourselves instead. To gather resources and intel until we could extract Dinah. I know that he's already put hits out on at least two of us for this."
This time I did wince. She'd told me earlier, but I didn't like to be reminded that she might have died already, in some backhanded way neither of us had even noticed, even if the attempt had failed. In retrospect, all of her precautions from earlier made sense. Spelling out the information on my hand, or only in writing? Long range scanners and directional microphones could make out audio through a window on a building across the street. The bugs on the windows? Screening for snipers. The constant drone of the swarm as we spoke? Sound muffling.
How much danger was she actually in, sharing this? Could she even judge the risks she was taking, or was she knowingly plunging into unknown waters, aware that she'd only find out if there were sharks when the teeth sank in?
"If this is true," Dragon said slowly, "you should've come to someone much earlier." She still didn't sound friendly or sympathetic; the pleasant tone she'd started with was long gone. Even if I now suspected it had been a mask from the start. But she wasn't quite as hostile anymore. The little phone lying on the table wasn't intimidating us anymore. Instead it was... waiting. Inviting us to plead our case.
"But you didn't."
Skitter's bugs churned. Spiders chewed on mosquitoes and midges, hornets bit the heads off flies. Discarded legs and wings fell to the floor like tiny, chitinous snowflakes. "We thought that with what happened at the Bank, and after, the PRT wouldn't listen to us. That maybe we'd be taken seriously once we brought down Coil and returned Dinah – that you'd only believe us once we proved we were serious. We… I was wrong. About that."
I watched her eyes. Not the eyes of the girl underneath; Skitter's eyes, those eerie yellow lenses trained unerringly on her opponent. Was this Skitter actually admitting fault, accepting that I was right? Or was this just her putting on yet another performance, relaying the information in the way she knew that Dragon would be most likely to accept? I had no idea. But I wanted to believe it was at least a little bit of the former, somewhere in there.
"Well, you're right about that last part, at least," Dragon said at length. Her voice crackled harshly. "If you're really serious about this, you need to tell me everything you have on Coil. Now. Including why you didn't go to the PRT about this earlier; don't think I didn't notice that dodge."
"That'd be my cue then," Tattletale said from her side of the table. "He demonstrated his power to me by flipping a coin five times, and having it land heads each time. I called bullshit, and he filled me in on how it works to help him test its limits. Short version: he can split timelines. He gets to choose an action in each one, let them both play out so he sees the end result, then picks the one he wants at any point. I never figured out if it was just a simulated precognition or actual temporal manipulation, but it doesn't matter. It spoofs my power either way."
"Spoofs how?" Dragon asked.
"A few days ago I was scrambling to intercept a hit he put out on Skitter's head, only for it to never have happened." The bugs around us rose to the sky in a frenzy of activity and violence. I looked around at the writhing swarm and wondered how much of it Dragon could hear.
Tattletale didn't let any of that stop her. "He taunted me with it, too. And no, I'm not telling you anything further than that. A lady has to keep some secrets."
"Fine," Dragon said. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't go immediately to the PRT after hearing this. If you could find out that much about Coil, surely the fact that the Wards take in former villains for rehabilitation couldn't be that hard to find."
Tattletale glanced around at the rest of the table, weighing her words. I followed her gaze as it lingered on each of them. Bitch, who felt closer to dogs than people and used violence as a first resort for lack of ability or inclination to talk things out. Regent, and the nebulously horrific past Skitter had implied he'd abandoned Hijack to escape. Grue, and whatever drove him to try to take responsibility for leading and protecting these violent, outcast misfits. Skitter, and the myriad of trust issues layered over a heart that wanted to be a hero but went about it in all the wrong ways.
Me.
"Many people in our group have… issues, going to the authorities for help," Tattletale said carefully. "Personal ones; I'm sure you understand. But there's a much bigger problem. Coil has extensively infiltrated the PRT. While I have the names of some that I've confirmed, I can't be sure that I've gotten all of them. If we go to the PRT, my power has me dead or worse within a week."
"A convincing incentive to keep your distance,," Dragon allowed. "Provided you're not lying about any of this."
"Then don't take our word for it," Skitter said suddenly. I looked at her, shocked. What?
Dragon evidently felt similarly. I half expected the phone camera to shutter in a startled blink. "Excuse me?"
"Don't trust us," she said, on a roll now. "You have no reason to. Investigate the information yourself. If you set up some kind of a dead drop, Tattletale can get you the basic information in writing. Coil's power and everything she has on its limits, whatever we know about Dinah and the time frame involved, all our work on his secret identity, his base, people in his employ, moles, the works. Use your resources and the PRT's to check it all, do your own research in parallel. Verify all of our data. This is much bigger than any of us in this room, and you know it. You can't afford to ignore it."
The little phone sat on the plastic surface of the folding table like a lead weight on the lungs of hope.
"And this would have nothing to do with my orders to come to the Bay to bring you in?"
We all froze.
Fuck.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Dragon," Skitter said, her voice even. The movement of the bugs around us implied anything but beneath the surface.
"Don't bother wondering if you gave something away. I don't need to be on call with a phone to use its microphone."
As one, the Undersiders took a step back from the phone on the table. But my stomach was sinking. Because Dragon hadn't known about the phone she was talking through. It was a burner, and I doubted she could monitor every device in the city. The microphone wouldn't be passively on, either. To do what she was implying, she'd need to know the phone existed, connect to it, turn on the microphone and listen in from there.
I didn't dare look down. My cell – the one I'd called Carol with – was burning a hole in my pocket so hot it singed my thigh. If I drew the slightest bit of attention to it, Skitter would know.
Thank fuck, she was too focused on Dragon to think about it. "That's a huge invasion of privacy–" she began heatedly.
"Which is well within my directive if I'm talking to known terrorists," Dragon finished, ice-calm.
Skitter bristled. "Then I don't know exactly what you're asking," she said, her swarm drawing inward to wreath her, hanging over her shoulders like a queen's mantle.
"I'm asking if this is an attempt to get me to try and countermand my orders in favor of getting your superior out of the way so you can make a play for the Bay. And I'm asking if you seriously think I am so easy to manipulate."
Skitter's shoulders tensed. I could almost hear the sounds of her teeth grinding. "Dragon, this is bigger than that. There's a child at risk–"
"Don't try to pretend that you have the moral high ground here, Skitter," Dragon said, her voice harsh and unyielding. I gulped. "The Undersiders crossed a line with Shadow Stalker, don't think that we've forgotten about that. We may have been forced to overlook it for convenience, but we haven't forgotten. The same is true for Regent using his powers on people in his territory. If you've done the same to Victoria, or are using Dinah as a means to deflect blame away from your group, there will be consequences, that I can promise you."
It was quiet, but I heard Skitter take a shaky breath. For a moment, the insects around us calmed. "So it's wrong for us to cross a line with Shadow Stalker, but totally okay for Armsmaster to try and murder me during an Endbringer fight," she gritted out. "Fine. If that's how it's going to be, fine."
The swarm around her came back to life, a harsh black screen swirling hard enough to make me flinch. "But you have to admit this much." Her words were a whip. "If we crossed a line, it was Coil who pushed us there. He was the one who outed the E88. He was the one who kidnapped a child, who repurposed an Endbringer shelter for his own private base. This is bigger than us, than the Rules. He has to be stopped. If what happens to us is a different conversation… fine. But don't you dare forget that we were the ones to reach out this time."
Dragon sighed. "I can give you that much, Skitter. Thank you. Tattletale, I'll send you the details for where to dead-drop that information, so hold off on destroying this device until then. Understand that this is not me promising to not follow my orders. As far as I'm concerned, the Undersiders are public enemy number one right now. If that changes, well, I can't publicly comment on internal PRT policy. And I don't make a habit of negotiating with terrorists."
Skitter drew herself up, ready to fight, but I quickly laid a hand on her arm. She stopped, staring at me. I shook my head. I think I knew what Dragon was doing here, and it was more complicated than it looked on the surface level. But if Skitter opened her mouth right now, it would ruin the delicate negotiation at play.
"I guess we'll be hearing from you one way or another soon then," Tattletale said, trying to make a joke.
"Something like that," Dragon said. "I'll be in touch. Oh and one last thing. Victoria?"
I startled, looking up. She hadn't really addressed me for the entire conversation up to this point.
"I know from the PRT that you can't talk. And I've seen enough of the debrief to read between the lines. I'll respect your privacy but… I hope you're doing okay. And know that if you want a safe place to stay, with the Wards or otherwise, you have options."
I sniffled, trying to keep the water in my eyes from spilling over. Dragon was the first… adult to speak to me like that. After Amy. God. It was hard to believe when I put it like that, but it was still true.
"T-thank you," I said, my voice raspy and weak.
"You're welcome, Victoria," Dragon said gently. "And as for the rest of you… take care. Or I'll make my displeasure felt. I have a lot of resources at my disposal."
She disconnected from the call with a soft click.
A/N:
Slightly delayed, but the chapter arrives! Much thanks to Aleph on this one, seriously she knocked it out of the park.
Did I mention I love writing Dragon? Because boy do I. She doesn't get nearly enough presence in canon, and drawing her out as a legitimately menacing antagonist is something that isn't done much in fic either. She's on a fine line between hero and "oh god please don't kill me", and just because she won't do the latter thing doesn't mean she couldn't. She also likes cupcakes, and is very valid.
Today's rec is Saving the World in 287 Steps by my lovely friend Sengachi! He's the person who originally dragged me down into this cursed realm, so it's my duty now to get people to pester him about his fic. Contessa wakes up in Breath of the Wild shortly after Gold Morning, and proceeds to do an any% speedrun. It's crack played straight, and it's glorious. Based on the actual speedrun at the time too. Go give it a read.
"I don't suppose I could convince you this was a wrong number?" Tattletale tried, a fake laugh hiding the fear in her voice. She'd realized the same thing I had. So had Skitter, though I wasn't sure about the others.
"Not quite, Tattletale," Dragon replied. I couldn't see her, but there was an indulgent smile in her voice. Even so, I was breathing faster. I would never have guessed that a phone could be intimidating, but the world narrowed around the little black shape in Tattletale's hand like the beat before a grenade going off. "You went through a lot of trouble to get my attention," she said. "Well, you have it."
"Yes, but we have conditions–" Grue started before Skitter placed a hand on his arm, stopping him mid sentence. He looked at her, but whatever she conveyed in a moment's silent communication was enough to drain the tension out of him like sand in an hourglass. Skitter took the lead instead.
"There's something we need to talk to you about, Dragon. As fellow capes," Skitter said, taking a step closer to the table and splaying out a hand across the worn wood.
"Skitter," Dragon said, her voice tinny from the tiny speaker with nary a hitch in her speech, "And I assume that was Grue who was talking earlier. Who exactly am I speaking to?"
"The Undersiders," Skiter replied. "Myself, Tattletale, Grue, Regent, Bitch… and Victoria."
We all heard the sharp intake of breath on Dragon's end in response to that. Well that was a reaction. "Victoria? If that's you, I need to confirm Master Stranger protocols. What was the last code used by the Wards?"
My tension ratcheted higher. This was wrong. This was all wrong. There was no way a single call-and-response could clear me of Master influence. Not when I'd spent as much time in Skitter's territory as I had, especially given Regent's public history. Any response I gave could easily be Tattletale doing background research on me prior, or other power interactions. Dragon had no reason to believe that I was in control of myself.
Which left only one conclusion: she was deliberately pretending to clear me in front of the Undersiders. For what reason, I could only guess.
I turned to Skitter, who was staring at Tattletale as if her teammate was holding a venomous snake that might decide to bite at any moment, and hesitated. I could do one of two things here. I could just give her the password from the last time I had been with the Wards, and no further context. That would be the safe thing, and what Dragon clearly expected. It wouldn't tell her whether it was really me or Regent, but it would at least confirm that the Undersiders weren't tipped off about the double bluff.
The other option… was to tell Skitter about the subtext of Dragon's play and hope she kept it to herself. My breath felt tight in my chest as I weighed my choices. I didn't know which to pick. Skitter had promised me earlier that no matter what she said at the meeting, she wouldn't let Regent get to me. Despite my fears, I hadn't felt anything like his power. And while the Heroic thing to do would be to side with Dragon against these Villains... I wasn't sure if that was the heroic thing to do. Not when I'd promised to try to help them out of the pit they'd dug themselves. Not when they might not be villains.
I felt a fly brush the back of my hand, and my resolve firmed. It was risky, but I felt like I could trust in that upheld promise. In her. And in my ideals. Deceptions and deliberate obfuscations were what had gotten us all into this mess.
"E-n-o-l-a one five five," I carefully signed, not looking away from her. Her eyes might be on Tattletale, but I knew I held just as much of her attention. "But that was the code when I left. There's no way this can confirm I am who I say I am."
Skitter's mask was inscrutable, even her body language gave away nothing. Thank god I had learned how to sign, otherwise I'd be reduced to the notepad and the rest of the group could read that.
"Don't say the second part out loud," I signed. Skitter said nothing, just cocked her head slightly as her gaze bored into the innocuous little burner phone that Tattletale had at arm's length. What she thought Dragon could do through it - or what she intended to do in response – I had no idea. It didn't really matter, I supposed. The real question was whether she would understand why I was asking and follow through.
"Enola one five five," Skitter repeated, glancing back at me for a second. The centipede on the palm of my hand curled around my thumb, almost as if saying 'I hope you know what you're doing'. I gently squeezed, just hard enough for it to feel but not enough to crush it. That made two of us.
Dragon sighed. "I'll have to trust that, in the absence of anything else. I hope you're doing well, Victoria, circumstances being what they are. I wish I could see you, but there's no camera on this thing."
Tattletale let out a bark of laughter, missing our secret conversation as she started to pace, fingers white-knuckling on the plastic casing. "Yeah, sorry Dragon," she scoffed, "but we value our privacy a little too much for that. The phone we called on has no camera, and we ripped out the GPS locator too. You might be able to triangulate the signal with enough time, but it's bounced through a relay and we're in a temporary location anyways."
"You'll have to forgive me for the attempt," Dragon said smoothly, seemingly unbothered by the assertion that she was attempting to track our location even as we spoke, "otherwise I wouldn't be doing my job."
"That's beside the point," Skitter said. Her left hand fisted where it laid on the table, even as the a buzzing drone intensified hear the door and windows. "We have a problem."
"Well I'm afraid I'm not likely to be able to help," Dragon replied, unfazed. "I'm not in the habit of doing the bidding of villains."
Ice poured down my spine at the way she said it. The superficially pleasant tone covered a naked threat, and a wave of menace rippled out from the tiny speaker and the vast, unstoppable weight of technological power behind it. I saw Tattletale wince, Regent's lazy smile falter, Grue stiffen. Even Bitch bared her teeth and swallowed, pulling her dog closer. In that moment, Dragon commanded the room without even having a presence in it.
Only Skitter didn't react. Not visibly, at least. Instead she plowed ahead, stubborn and straightforward as ever.
"We know what happened to Dinah Alcott."
Dead silence. For a second I was terrified Dragon had broken the connection, then hot on the heels of that came an even less rational fear that she hadn't, that the utter quiet from the other end of the line was because she'd pushed off from her desk somewhere in Canada and was somehow about to show up in person. I didn't even realize how fast my heart had started to pound until she spoke again.
"Dinah Alcott. Thirteen years old. Last seen at her home in the company of her parents. She went missing months ago, on the same day as your debut when you robbed a bank. Initially thought to be a kidnapping, no culprits found, presumed dead until Coil's admission of culpability during a Truce meeting regarding the Nine. Be very careful with what you say next, Skitter."
I swallowed. I had a few conversations with Dragon at one point or another when I was with Dean. Mostly overhearing her collaborating with Armsmaster for one thing or another. She always struck me as friendly and warm. This… was not that. She was cold, and harsh. This was the voice of a Tinker who had the resources of a small country to draw on, and wasn't afraid to use them. The calm and frank tone reminded me of an undertaker. Suddenly I couldn't shake the thought that we'd all just been professionally weighed and measured for extermination, our every bit of data gathered and analyzed down to the last byte. A digital coffin drawn up for each of us.
Skitter's swarm writhed, but to her credit she didn't hesitate much before replying. "We're calling to help save her."
The silence this time was longer, but no less suffocating. "Explain."
"You were right to bring up the bank job," Skitter said, and even her composure was starting to crack now. Not much; barely noticeable to someone who didn't know her, but she was talking faster, rushing to say her piece before Dragon made up her mind one way or the other. Still, her posture hadn't changed. "That was a distraction for Coil, our boss, to grab Dinah without interference from the heroes. But he only told us about that after the job was done."
"Did he," Dragon said, her voice unreadable. Or at least, unreadable to me. Whatever lay under the flat, level tone, Tattletale definitely picked up some of it. She blanched, and almost stumbled in her pacing. Robotically, she turned back to the table and put the phone down like it would bite her if she jarred it too hard. Grue waved her back with one big, leather-clad arm, planting himself over it and looming like he was planning to throw himself on it if it exploded.
"Coil hired us as a combination of muscle, and small-time petty thieves," Skitter pressed on. The tremble in her voice was barely noticeable, I had to wonder if the microphone picked up on it at all. "That's all we were invested in. But by the time we realized what he was using us for, it was too late. Dinah is a Thinker, one of the most powerful precognitives I've ever seen. She gives exact odds on future events happening, with no restrictions we've encountered yet."
"Mmm. Yes, Coil said as much when he implied she was with him willingly. I didn't think much of his claims then, and I'm still waiting to hear why I should believe you now."
Fuck. I hadn't considered the Heroes just not believing Dinah's power was as strong as Skitter claimed. But... well, Coil had talked her up to get everyone to follow his plan. A plan that had left his pet Villain groups in control of most of the city. Lying about a powerful precognitive supporting your plan to get people to do what you wanted was stupid in the long run, but plenty of Villains had done dumber things to get a leg up against their competition. The Heroes couldn't afford to discount his claims, but they couldn't just take them on faith, either.
"The power you describe is stronger than any precognitive power I've ever heard of," Dragon continued mercilessly. "Most of the Thinkers the PRT has access to don't give information anywhere near that accurate or accessible. You can see why I'm inclined to be skeptical."
Skitter nodded pointlessly. Another sign of nervousness – it wasn't like Dragon could see her. "Then it should mean something that I'm claiming it anyways when it would be easy to fact check later. Coil knew what her power was. He kidnapped her to use her. He keeps her drugged in a secret location we don't have access to, presumably for better access to her power."
I wish I could see Dragon's face to know how she was reacting to this. I knew I was still barely able to hold in my rage at her plight; at the unfairness, the sheer cruelty this innocent little girl had been exposed to because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong power. Because the wrong person wanted to own her.
"We didn't sign up for this," Skitter said, her voice wavering ever-so-fractionally. My centipede was scurrying around and around my palm in nervous circles, and I did my best to stroke it soothingly as it moved. Her bugs – I double-took, and had to hold back a wince. Some of her bugs were actively attacking others – no, not attacking. Eating. She was feeding parts of her swarm to the most dangerous ones; the spiders and wasps and dragonflies. Like stress eating, I thought, and had to muffle a hysterical giggle.
"We didn't know Coil's power yet," Skitter continued, even as the swarms began to dim the light coming from the windows, "or his long term plans, so we tried to fix it ourselves instead. To gather resources and intel until we could extract Dinah. I know that he's already put hits out on at least two of us for this."
This time I did wince. She'd told me earlier, but I didn't like to be reminded that she might have died already, in some backhanded way neither of us had even noticed, even if the attempt had failed. In retrospect, all of her precautions from earlier made sense. Spelling out the information on my hand, or only in writing? Long range scanners and directional microphones could make out audio through a window on a building across the street. The bugs on the windows? Screening for snipers. The constant drone of the swarm as we spoke? Sound muffling.
How much danger was she actually in, sharing this? Could she even judge the risks she was taking, or was she knowingly plunging into unknown waters, aware that she'd only find out if there were sharks when the teeth sank in?
"If this is true," Dragon said slowly, "you should've come to someone much earlier." She still didn't sound friendly or sympathetic; the pleasant tone she'd started with was long gone. Even if I now suspected it had been a mask from the start. But she wasn't quite as hostile anymore. The little phone lying on the table wasn't intimidating us anymore. Instead it was... waiting. Inviting us to plead our case.
"But you didn't."
Skitter's bugs churned. Spiders chewed on mosquitoes and midges, hornets bit the heads off flies. Discarded legs and wings fell to the floor like tiny, chitinous snowflakes. "We thought that with what happened at the Bank, and after, the PRT wouldn't listen to us. That maybe we'd be taken seriously once we brought down Coil and returned Dinah – that you'd only believe us once we proved we were serious. We… I was wrong. About that."
I watched her eyes. Not the eyes of the girl underneath; Skitter's eyes, those eerie yellow lenses trained unerringly on her opponent. Was this Skitter actually admitting fault, accepting that I was right? Or was this just her putting on yet another performance, relaying the information in the way she knew that Dragon would be most likely to accept? I had no idea. But I wanted to believe it was at least a little bit of the former, somewhere in there.
"Well, you're right about that last part, at least," Dragon said at length. Her voice crackled harshly. "If you're really serious about this, you need to tell me everything you have on Coil. Now. Including why you didn't go to the PRT about this earlier; don't think I didn't notice that dodge."
"That'd be my cue then," Tattletale said from her side of the table. "He demonstrated his power to me by flipping a coin five times, and having it land heads each time. I called bullshit, and he filled me in on how it works to help him test its limits. Short version: he can split timelines. He gets to choose an action in each one, let them both play out so he sees the end result, then picks the one he wants at any point. I never figured out if it was just a simulated precognition or actual temporal manipulation, but it doesn't matter. It spoofs my power either way."
"Spoofs how?" Dragon asked.
"A few days ago I was scrambling to intercept a hit he put out on Skitter's head, only for it to never have happened." The bugs around us rose to the sky in a frenzy of activity and violence. I looked around at the writhing swarm and wondered how much of it Dragon could hear.
Tattletale didn't let any of that stop her. "He taunted me with it, too. And no, I'm not telling you anything further than that. A lady has to keep some secrets."
"Fine," Dragon said. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't go immediately to the PRT after hearing this. If you could find out that much about Coil, surely the fact that the Wards take in former villains for rehabilitation couldn't be that hard to find."
Tattletale glanced around at the rest of the table, weighing her words. I followed her gaze as it lingered on each of them. Bitch, who felt closer to dogs than people and used violence as a first resort for lack of ability or inclination to talk things out. Regent, and the nebulously horrific past Skitter had implied he'd abandoned Hijack to escape. Grue, and whatever drove him to try to take responsibility for leading and protecting these violent, outcast misfits. Skitter, and the myriad of trust issues layered over a heart that wanted to be a hero but went about it in all the wrong ways.
Me.
"Many people in our group have… issues, going to the authorities for help," Tattletale said carefully. "Personal ones; I'm sure you understand. But there's a much bigger problem. Coil has extensively infiltrated the PRT. While I have the names of some that I've confirmed, I can't be sure that I've gotten all of them. If we go to the PRT, my power has me dead or worse within a week."
"A convincing incentive to keep your distance,," Dragon allowed. "Provided you're not lying about any of this."
"Then don't take our word for it," Skitter said suddenly. I looked at her, shocked. What?
Dragon evidently felt similarly. I half expected the phone camera to shutter in a startled blink. "Excuse me?"
"Don't trust us," she said, on a roll now. "You have no reason to. Investigate the information yourself. If you set up some kind of a dead drop, Tattletale can get you the basic information in writing. Coil's power and everything she has on its limits, whatever we know about Dinah and the time frame involved, all our work on his secret identity, his base, people in his employ, moles, the works. Use your resources and the PRT's to check it all, do your own research in parallel. Verify all of our data. This is much bigger than any of us in this room, and you know it. You can't afford to ignore it."
The little phone sat on the plastic surface of the folding table like a lead weight on the lungs of hope.
"And this would have nothing to do with my orders to come to the Bay to bring you in?"
We all froze.
Fuck.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Dragon," Skitter said, her voice even. The movement of the bugs around us implied anything but beneath the surface.
"Don't bother wondering if you gave something away. I don't need to be on call with a phone to use its microphone."
As one, the Undersiders took a step back from the phone on the table. But my stomach was sinking. Because Dragon hadn't known about the phone she was talking through. It was a burner, and I doubted she could monitor every device in the city. The microphone wouldn't be passively on, either. To do what she was implying, she'd need to know the phone existed, connect to it, turn on the microphone and listen in from there.
I didn't dare look down. My cell – the one I'd called Carol with – was burning a hole in my pocket so hot it singed my thigh. If I drew the slightest bit of attention to it, Skitter would know.
Thank fuck, she was too focused on Dragon to think about it. "That's a huge invasion of privacy–" she began heatedly.
"Which is well within my directive if I'm talking to known terrorists," Dragon finished, ice-calm.
Skitter bristled. "Then I don't know exactly what you're asking," she said, her swarm drawing inward to wreath her, hanging over her shoulders like a queen's mantle.
"I'm asking if this is an attempt to get me to try and countermand my orders in favor of getting your superior out of the way so you can make a play for the Bay. And I'm asking if you seriously think I am so easy to manipulate."
Skitter's shoulders tensed. I could almost hear the sounds of her teeth grinding. "Dragon, this is bigger than that. There's a child at risk–"
"Don't try to pretend that you have the moral high ground here, Skitter," Dragon said, her voice harsh and unyielding. I gulped. "The Undersiders crossed a line with Shadow Stalker, don't think that we've forgotten about that. We may have been forced to overlook it for convenience, but we haven't forgotten. The same is true for Regent using his powers on people in his territory. If you've done the same to Victoria, or are using Dinah as a means to deflect blame away from your group, there will be consequences, that I can promise you."
It was quiet, but I heard Skitter take a shaky breath. For a moment, the insects around us calmed. "So it's wrong for us to cross a line with Shadow Stalker, but totally okay for Armsmaster to try and murder me during an Endbringer fight," she gritted out. "Fine. If that's how it's going to be, fine."
The swarm around her came back to life, a harsh black screen swirling hard enough to make me flinch. "But you have to admit this much." Her words were a whip. "If we crossed a line, it was Coil who pushed us there. He was the one who outed the E88. He was the one who kidnapped a child, who repurposed an Endbringer shelter for his own private base. This is bigger than us, than the Rules. He has to be stopped. If what happens to us is a different conversation… fine. But don't you dare forget that we were the ones to reach out this time."
Dragon sighed. "I can give you that much, Skitter. Thank you. Tattletale, I'll send you the details for where to dead-drop that information, so hold off on destroying this device until then. Understand that this is not me promising to not follow my orders. As far as I'm concerned, the Undersiders are public enemy number one right now. If that changes, well, I can't publicly comment on internal PRT policy. And I don't make a habit of negotiating with terrorists."
Skitter drew herself up, ready to fight, but I quickly laid a hand on her arm. She stopped, staring at me. I shook my head. I think I knew what Dragon was doing here, and it was more complicated than it looked on the surface level. But if Skitter opened her mouth right now, it would ruin the delicate negotiation at play.
"I guess we'll be hearing from you one way or another soon then," Tattletale said, trying to make a joke.
"Something like that," Dragon said. "I'll be in touch. Oh and one last thing. Victoria?"
I startled, looking up. She hadn't really addressed me for the entire conversation up to this point.
"I know from the PRT that you can't talk. And I've seen enough of the debrief to read between the lines. I'll respect your privacy but… I hope you're doing okay. And know that if you want a safe place to stay, with the Wards or otherwise, you have options."
I sniffled, trying to keep the water in my eyes from spilling over. Dragon was the first… adult to speak to me like that. After Amy. God. It was hard to believe when I put it like that, but it was still true.
"T-thank you," I said, my voice raspy and weak.
"You're welcome, Victoria," Dragon said gently. "And as for the rest of you… take care. Or I'll make my displeasure felt. I have a lot of resources at my disposal."
She disconnected from the call with a soft click.
A/N:
Slightly delayed, but the chapter arrives! Much thanks to Aleph on this one, seriously she knocked it out of the park.
Did I mention I love writing Dragon? Because boy do I. She doesn't get nearly enough presence in canon, and drawing her out as a legitimately menacing antagonist is something that isn't done much in fic either. She's on a fine line between hero and "oh god please don't kill me", and just because she won't do the latter thing doesn't mean she couldn't. She also likes cupcakes, and is very valid.
Today's rec is Saving the World in 287 Steps by my lovely friend Sengachi! He's the person who originally dragged me down into this cursed realm, so it's my duty now to get people to pester him about his fic. Contessa wakes up in Breath of the Wild shortly after Gold Morning, and proceeds to do an any% speedrun. It's crack played straight, and it's glorious. Based on the actual speedrun at the time too. Go give it a read.
- Location
- Minnesota
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This is an amazing line.
Also, your recs are good and have ruined my phone. So many tabs.
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
This is actually a great portrayal of Dragon. I feel like there's not many fics that have Dragon feel threatening, most of them just focus on her being nice and kind, but this story really nails an aspect of her character rarely touched on. She really feels like a danger to the Undersiders.
- Location
- The Internet?
Great update! And if this actually pops off, then you know... finally, everyone will be working together. Except Coil, because he goin' to jail! Or at least his body double will. But real talk, excellent job maintaining the tension, and then cranking it up like a ratchet strap. I hope Imp was keeping quiet during the call, but who knows what Dragon could actually glean from the audio.
View: https://youtu.be/krrVOn5XnfM?t=33
Victoria, that's because you never thought to ask, 'who was phone!'
And how! If it hasn't been mentioned yet, I love, love, love that someone's bringing up how thoroughly a lack of proper communication exacerbates all the problems people have on Bet.
Victoria, sweetie, I know you were raised in the white supremacist Mecca, not that they'd call it that, but come on, anyone owning people is bad. I feel like they would've taught that in Arcadia, the supposed 'good school.'
I have honestly never heard it phrased this way. 'I did a double-take,' certainly, but never in the 'took' tense. That might just be me, though.
It's a good bit, really, but they'd already established, twice, that the phone has no camera.
View: https://youtu.be/krrVOn5XnfM?t=33
The call was coming from inside the blouse! (I know it's the pants pocket, but that's not how the rhyme worked out.)
We all know Dragon is the best, but she's younger than you, Vic!
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Honestly this was a mistake on my part. That was meant to be referencing Amy's trauma that she's reading into the situation, to liken it to that specific action or relationship. But you're so right, my bad there
- Location
- The Internet?
It was meant entirely in jest, consider your chop busted, fellow adult. I figured it was something along those lines. If you wanted, you could have her take a beat and police her thoughts after thinking that, leave it as is, or edit it out all together. Each path has its own strengths.
Binary 3.6
The soft click of the call disconnecting sounded unnaturally loud in the still air of the warehouse, but I felt like I could breathe again in its wake.
I had just enough time for a relieved sigh before nearly jumping out of my skin.
"So, I think I speak for all of us when I say what the fuck was that?"
Imp. She was leaning against the far wall now, where she'd been behind me before the call. I'd lost track of her when she'd... when had I lost track at her? I couldn't even pin down when she'd slipped out of awareness again. Goddamn Strangers.
Regent seemed more used to her popping in and out of memory. He casually twirled his scepter, knocking it against the table. "I dunno, I figure it went pretty well," he drawled, tossing it to his other hand and waving it like a flag. "Big scary Dragon lady called us out on our shit, knows exactly where we live, gave no firm promises on helping us in any way, and confirmed that she's still coming. Plus, we just betrayed our boss for possibly nothing. Sounds great to me. Anyone want a cushy spot in jail? I know a guy."
"We are not going to jail," Skitter said forcefully, her bugs humming under her words for emphasis. "One way or another, we're getting out of this. If that means we have to fight Dragon, we knew that was happening already. This just gives us another option we didn't have before."
"Maybe," Grue allowed, "but you heard her. We're still 'public enemy number one', right? That doesn't sound like a guarantee of safety to me."
I clenched my fists. I knew what Dragon had been saying–and deliberately not saying–during that call, but I didn't know whether spelling it out here was the right call. Or whether they'd even trust anything coming from me, after I'd pushed the idea of talking to Dragon in the first place.
As if hearing my thoughts on the matter, Grue turned to me. "I hope you know that you're with us on this now, Glory Girl. No backing out just because you got cold feet."
I tried not to bristle visibly at that, and took a couple of deep breaths. I looked away from him, not in fear, but to look at Skitter instead, matching her breathing by habit. He didn't know me, not like she did. For all he knew, my promises were as empty as my ability to voice them.
"She said she'd do it," Skitter said, turning to Grue. "She did the same for me before. I don't see why this would be different now."
"Saving you from Flechette was one thing," Grue said, not taking his gaze off me. "That was spur of the moment and defending you personally. This is willingly associating with us ahead of time. It's not unreasonable to be suspicious. You, of all people, should be wary of someone close betraying you. Hero or not."
Skitter's back straightened like he'd rammed a steel rod down it. Her fists tightened, the centipede still hidden in my palm froze for a second and then began writhing furiously. Even I could see that he'd just stomped on a landmine. I had no idea what it meant or what buried bit of soft tissue he'd aimed for, but it had hit. Hard.
He'd known it would hurt her, and he'd said it anyway.
"That's low, Grue," she said eventually.
"But not entirely out of the question," Tattletale cut in, setting the phone down on the table. Or rather, what remained of it. She had done everything but take it apart screw by screw.
"I've sent Dragon the info. This phone is obviously a lost cause. I don't know how she tapped it, but it doesn't matter. It's in pieces now, and I'll dispose of them once we leave. That just leaves what comes next."
"We keep our heads down for a few days," Grue said, idly tightening his leather gloves. "No fights with heroes until we figure out what's going on, one way or another."
"Fuck that," Bitch said, standing up suddenly. "You don't tell me what to do in my territory. If some fucker wants to hurt my dogs, I'm not letting him go. The heroes can go fuck–"
Her back slammed against the wall.
"Enough!" Grue snapped, pinning her to the wall with a forearm across her throat and catching her right hand with his left. She was stocky and strong, but he was bigger and stronger; it wouldn't have been a fair fight even if he hadn't caught her mid-sentence. Differences in size aside, it was eerily similar to what Skitter had done when she'd taken me to visit her that first time.
"F-fuck you," Bitch wheezed, driving a fist into Grue's ribs that he didn't even react to. Between the bad angle she was punching at and the motorcycle leathers, I wasn't even sure he felt it.
"No one is telling you to let the heroes hurt your dogs. Just don't pick fights. Clear?" Grue said, staring her down. The skull-mask beneath the dark visor was so close it almost pressed into her face. She tried to wrestle away to the side, but he tightened his grip on her wrist, leaning more weight on the forearm he had across her throat until she was struggling for breath. "I said: is that clear?"
Teeth bared, her free hand scrabbling at his arm, she nodded, and he slowly released his grip. She took a few wheezing gulps of air as she got her breath back, rubbing her throat, and then spat to the side. She seemed mostly unbothered that her team leader had effectively just wrestled her into compliance, though. I… didn't even want to begin to unpack that.
"Does that mean I don't get to do any pranks?" Imp whined from the opposite side of the room. I jumped. Fuck. I had forgotten she was there. Again. That was going to get annoying fast.
Skitter sighed. "You can still mess with people," she allowed. "Just keep it non-lethal and temporary."
"Aww, but that rules out all the good ideas!" Imp pouted.
"That's probably for the best," Grue muttered as he looked over at her. I chalked up another point in the 'family' theory; that was definitely Crystal's tone when talking about Eric doing something stupid.
Except it wasn't. The thought hit me from behind like a knife to the ribs. She would never use that tone again.
Eric was dead.
I was almost glad that Imp was still talking, providing a distraction for me to focus on instead of the unexpected gut-punch of grief and pain. Even if I'd been able to speak, the lump in my throat would have stopped me. I had to blink away tears as I listened to her complain.
"What are you talking about? I have the best ideas! I told you guys to talk to Dragon, and that turned out great! Plus, there was this fucker on Regent's turf, and I had this great plan to set him on fire–"
"Aaand that's why they don't trust you," Regent cut in. "See, if you wanna do that stuff you gotta plan it quietly, so they only find out after the fact. That's how I get away with it."
Imp nodded sagely, as if taking down this advice. I tried not to shudder when Regent glanced back at me. I remembered what Dragon said, about him Mastering people in his territory. I knew he still had Shatterbird somewhere, her mind caged inside a prison of flesh. Wide awake, fully aware, but completely helpless as he jerked her this way and that on phantom puppet strings, using her however he wanted. Never knowing what her traitorous body would do next, dreading every waking moment.
She didn't deserve sympathy. She was a mass-murdering monster who'd killed thousands, probably tens of thousands of innocent people. But he could have given her up to the PRT. The Nine were gone, and there were no other big threats left in the Bay that warranted keeping her in that kind of torture, much less anyone else.
Which meant he was doing it for no other reason than because he could. I edged closer to Skitter and shuddered.
"Anything else we should know?" Grue said, turning to Tattletale.
"Not much, boss." She added the last word almost belatedly. "I couldn't get much off of Dragon; I think she was hedging, leaving her options open. She could be here tomorrow to bring us in, she could never come, or she could land right on top of Coil in his civvies. Fuck if I know."
"Well that sounds like great fun," Regent said, standing up with a theatrical yawn. "I don't know about y'all, but I don't wanna be caught here when Dragon decides to get off her ass. I'm headed back. Call me if you care. Or don't."
"Wait, Regent–" Skitter started as he strolled towards the door.
"Don't bother," Imp interrupted. "I'm going–"
"What about you, Tattletale?" Skitter asked.
"Much as I hate to admit it, I think Regent has the right idea," she replied. "We aren't really accomplishing much staying here. Head back to your headquarters. Don't make waves, but prepare for the worst. The usual, really."
She snorted at her own humorless joke and got up to leave. Bitch had already headed outside without a word, which didn't surprise me. She didn't exactly seem like the type to say goodbye. That left me, Skitter, and Grue.
I tried not to stare or fidget as they stood in silence for a moment. There was obviously some kind of tension between them, though what kind exactly I couldn't tell. Was it an authority issue? Grue was nominally the leader, but Skitter and Tattletale had run much of the call and aftermath today. Or maybe it was something more… personal.
My stomach clenched. I didn't want to think about Skitter selling me out because her team leader asked her to. It felt shameful and unfair to even think that little of her. But with so much hanging in the air, I couldn't help but wonder.
"I hope you're happy now," Grue said, at length.
Skitter's bugs rose and fell in a wave across the walls. "You know it's not that simple."
"It never is, is it?"
They stared at each other for another charged moment. For an absurd second, I almost thought it was going to turn into another fight. It certainly felt like they were poised on the brink of something fast and violent. The awkward, halting conversation was a creaking dike holding back a flash flood. I could almost hear the water straining to breach its banks and devastate everything downstream.
But whatever they had chained up between them, today wasn't the day it broke free.
"Stay out of trouble, Skitter," Grue said as he turned to leave.
"You too," Skitter said, not watching as he left.
The door closed, and it was just the two of us.
Skitter slumped, dropping into the nearest chair. She looked smaller like this, not towering over me like usual. She was so tall and slim that most of the time she looked like an adult. But sitting like this, back bowed and head resting on the arm she had propped up on the table, I could see every inch of weight she carried. Physical and otherwise.
I considered reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, before I thought better of it. I remembered how she'd reacted last time, and I could hardly begrudge her an aversion to touch, not when I felt the same way. Not to mention, with her lying on her right arm I could only reach the one she'd been stabbed through. I didn't dare touch her there, not when it was probably hurting. So instead I sat down across from her and waited.
Eventually, she sighed.
"Well, that couldn't have gone much worse."
I shook my head.
"Really?" Skitter asked, not looking up. "You're gonna have to explain that one to me. We just gave up our best advantage against the Tinker we know is coming to arrest us. We didn't learn anything we didn't already know. She didn't promise anything or offer any chance at amnesty. We betrayed our boss, so now we're fucked when he finds out. And the others all think I fucked up. Even if most won't say it to my face."
I swallowed. That was… a lot, true. But I could break it down one piece at a time.
"She already knew you knew she was coming," I signed. Her head was still resting on her arm away from me, but I knew she was paying attention, somehow. If she couldn't keep track of what I was saying, she'd have moved. She wasn't the kind of person who let details slip just because she was tired.
"And of course you didn't hear anything new," I added. "This was about you reaching out to her."
"Fine," Skitter said, dull and listless, "but that doesn't solve my other problems."
I struggled to hold in a sigh. "Of course she didn't tell you anything. Why would she?"
"What do you mean 'why would she?' We just told her everything she wanted to know!" Skitter snapped. Her free arm fisted on the edge of the table and she ground her knuckles into the cheap plastic surface.
"Yes," I signed patiently, "you did. But she has no way of knowing you're telling the truth right now. She can't make promises to anyone who gives her a crying story. You wouldn't either, in her place."
"And the bit about calling us terrorists was just harmless name calling, then?"
"No. It was a hint."
A moment of silence, and Skitter sat up and looked at me, alert, focused, the weariness receding as fast as it had come on. "Explain."
I swallowed, rubbing the meat of my thumb and flexing my fingers. My hands were hurting again, a twinging tired ache in my joints that went down to the bone, but this was important. "When she said she doesn't talk with t-e-r-r-o-r-i-s-t-s, it was a threat. But it was also a way out."
"I'm still confused," Skitter said.
Oh my god, this girl… "It means don't be terrorists, and she might be able to talk with you. Think about it from her angle. Even if she knew you were telling the truth, she's a part of the government right now. She's been told to capture you. She can't be seen making deals with enemies of the state. But if you try and clean up your reputation…"
She paused, considering my point. "That's a hell of a bet to take. She didn't say any of that outright."
"She can't, and you know it," I replied.
"What if you're wrong? What if Dragon attacks tomorrow? What are you going to do?"
Bile rose in my throat. "That's not fair," I signed.
Skitter's fist clenched again on the table. "Maybe not. But it could happen. If the next time a hero decides to push me down in the dirt and–"
She looked down. My hand was covering hers. I hadn't even noticed reaching out, but I didn't take it back. We stared at each other.
"I'm n-not leaving," I said.
She stared at me. "Even if Dragon comes?"
I nodded, pulling my hand back.
"I still think I'm right. But if I'm not, then at the very least I stay and deal with my mistakes."
Skitter snorted. "That's one better than most heroes do around me."
I gave her a pained smile at that. I couldn't help but wonder how we would've met if things had been different. What exactly had gotten Skitter into villainy? There were still decisions she made that gave me pause. Of course there were. But in moments like this, I could almost see another girl. One who went to the Wards. Who became an independent Hero somewhere else. Who could've been a really good one.
What happened to that girl? What changed?
"I guess we should get back to the hideout," Skitter said, breaking my train of thought. She got up and stretched. "Charlotte is probably getting worried at this point, and we need to tell her to order food supplies ahead of time just in case."
"Why?"
"Because if Dragon is coming, I can't afford to take any chances. I might get taken in, or pinned down somewhere else. I'm not leaving the kids in the wind like that."
I smiled at her, even as I got up myself. "Fair enough."
I tried to turn over my thoughts as we walked to the door. I wanted to ask her something but… in light of what Grue said earlier, I wasn't sure if now was the best time. There was already a great deal of tension between her and her team, and if I kept asking for favors it might get worse. At the same time, while I could do it alone… I wanted her there. I was selfish enough to admit that. But I don't know if I had the right to–
"What is it?"
I startled, looking up at where Skitter had stopped ahead of me. "Your shoulders are tense, and you're squeezing the centipede."
My fingers sprang open in panic, fast enough that I almost sent the little insect flying off me. It quickly scurried around the back of my hand before jumping off into the grip of a pair of beetles–presumably to rejoin the rest of the swarm. At least I hadn't killed it.
"You clearly have a question," Skitter said, graciously not mentioning my reaction. "What is it?"
I swallowed again, and asked.
"I need to talk to the Heroes. And I want you there for it."
A/N:
Boy I sure didn't expect that response to last chapter. You guys really had some thoughts. I appreciate the engagement! But just in case, I thought I'd reiterate here. Just because our perspective is mainly from Victoria, that doesn't make what she says right or true. She can (and often is) wrong about some of the nuances she observes. The interludes are meant to (in part) correct for that, by showing how other people view the same information. Some of the things she says and thinks in this chapter are on target, some aren't. We'll see just how much as we go.
But other than that, lots of little things this chapter. More Undersiders barely managing not to kill one another. More of Skitter trying to pretend she knows what she's doing, though this time we get to see a tiny bit behind that act. And more of Victoria slowly realizing she's balancing atop a house of cards. But she can fly, so that metaphor sucks. Man, I'm bad at writing.
Today's rec is Desperate Times Call For Desperate Pleasures by R3NN41SS4NC3. Honestly I can't believe I haven't recced this one before, I guess I just thought it had a wider audience than it did. The premise is that Amy meets Taylor early on in canon, who has Cherish's power this go around. The two figure out that Amy has a bit of a problem, and Taylor of course offers to mind control Amy into loving someone else. Honestly I have trouble reading this one myself because secondhand embarrassment makes me want to jump out a window, but it's such a good look into Amy that I feel compelled to mention it anyways. Mind the content warnings and make sure you're in the right headspace for it, everyone is a trash monster (affectionate/derogatory). Give it a read.
I had just enough time for a relieved sigh before nearly jumping out of my skin.
"So, I think I speak for all of us when I say what the fuck was that?"
Imp. She was leaning against the far wall now, where she'd been behind me before the call. I'd lost track of her when she'd... when had I lost track at her? I couldn't even pin down when she'd slipped out of awareness again. Goddamn Strangers.
Regent seemed more used to her popping in and out of memory. He casually twirled his scepter, knocking it against the table. "I dunno, I figure it went pretty well," he drawled, tossing it to his other hand and waving it like a flag. "Big scary Dragon lady called us out on our shit, knows exactly where we live, gave no firm promises on helping us in any way, and confirmed that she's still coming. Plus, we just betrayed our boss for possibly nothing. Sounds great to me. Anyone want a cushy spot in jail? I know a guy."
"We are not going to jail," Skitter said forcefully, her bugs humming under her words for emphasis. "One way or another, we're getting out of this. If that means we have to fight Dragon, we knew that was happening already. This just gives us another option we didn't have before."
"Maybe," Grue allowed, "but you heard her. We're still 'public enemy number one', right? That doesn't sound like a guarantee of safety to me."
I clenched my fists. I knew what Dragon had been saying–and deliberately not saying–during that call, but I didn't know whether spelling it out here was the right call. Or whether they'd even trust anything coming from me, after I'd pushed the idea of talking to Dragon in the first place.
As if hearing my thoughts on the matter, Grue turned to me. "I hope you know that you're with us on this now, Glory Girl. No backing out just because you got cold feet."
I tried not to bristle visibly at that, and took a couple of deep breaths. I looked away from him, not in fear, but to look at Skitter instead, matching her breathing by habit. He didn't know me, not like she did. For all he knew, my promises were as empty as my ability to voice them.
"She said she'd do it," Skitter said, turning to Grue. "She did the same for me before. I don't see why this would be different now."
"Saving you from Flechette was one thing," Grue said, not taking his gaze off me. "That was spur of the moment and defending you personally. This is willingly associating with us ahead of time. It's not unreasonable to be suspicious. You, of all people, should be wary of someone close betraying you. Hero or not."
Skitter's back straightened like he'd rammed a steel rod down it. Her fists tightened, the centipede still hidden in my palm froze for a second and then began writhing furiously. Even I could see that he'd just stomped on a landmine. I had no idea what it meant or what buried bit of soft tissue he'd aimed for, but it had hit. Hard.
He'd known it would hurt her, and he'd said it anyway.
"That's low, Grue," she said eventually.
"But not entirely out of the question," Tattletale cut in, setting the phone down on the table. Or rather, what remained of it. She had done everything but take it apart screw by screw.
"I've sent Dragon the info. This phone is obviously a lost cause. I don't know how she tapped it, but it doesn't matter. It's in pieces now, and I'll dispose of them once we leave. That just leaves what comes next."
"We keep our heads down for a few days," Grue said, idly tightening his leather gloves. "No fights with heroes until we figure out what's going on, one way or another."
"Fuck that," Bitch said, standing up suddenly. "You don't tell me what to do in my territory. If some fucker wants to hurt my dogs, I'm not letting him go. The heroes can go fuck–"
Her back slammed against the wall.
"Enough!" Grue snapped, pinning her to the wall with a forearm across her throat and catching her right hand with his left. She was stocky and strong, but he was bigger and stronger; it wouldn't have been a fair fight even if he hadn't caught her mid-sentence. Differences in size aside, it was eerily similar to what Skitter had done when she'd taken me to visit her that first time.
"F-fuck you," Bitch wheezed, driving a fist into Grue's ribs that he didn't even react to. Between the bad angle she was punching at and the motorcycle leathers, I wasn't even sure he felt it.
"No one is telling you to let the heroes hurt your dogs. Just don't pick fights. Clear?" Grue said, staring her down. The skull-mask beneath the dark visor was so close it almost pressed into her face. She tried to wrestle away to the side, but he tightened his grip on her wrist, leaning more weight on the forearm he had across her throat until she was struggling for breath. "I said: is that clear?"
Teeth bared, her free hand scrabbling at his arm, she nodded, and he slowly released his grip. She took a few wheezing gulps of air as she got her breath back, rubbing her throat, and then spat to the side. She seemed mostly unbothered that her team leader had effectively just wrestled her into compliance, though. I… didn't even want to begin to unpack that.
"Does that mean I don't get to do any pranks?" Imp whined from the opposite side of the room. I jumped. Fuck. I had forgotten she was there. Again. That was going to get annoying fast.
Skitter sighed. "You can still mess with people," she allowed. "Just keep it non-lethal and temporary."
"Aww, but that rules out all the good ideas!" Imp pouted.
"That's probably for the best," Grue muttered as he looked over at her. I chalked up another point in the 'family' theory; that was definitely Crystal's tone when talking about Eric doing something stupid.
Except it wasn't. The thought hit me from behind like a knife to the ribs. She would never use that tone again.
Eric was dead.
I was almost glad that Imp was still talking, providing a distraction for me to focus on instead of the unexpected gut-punch of grief and pain. Even if I'd been able to speak, the lump in my throat would have stopped me. I had to blink away tears as I listened to her complain.
"What are you talking about? I have the best ideas! I told you guys to talk to Dragon, and that turned out great! Plus, there was this fucker on Regent's turf, and I had this great plan to set him on fire–"
"Aaand that's why they don't trust you," Regent cut in. "See, if you wanna do that stuff you gotta plan it quietly, so they only find out after the fact. That's how I get away with it."
Imp nodded sagely, as if taking down this advice. I tried not to shudder when Regent glanced back at me. I remembered what Dragon said, about him Mastering people in his territory. I knew he still had Shatterbird somewhere, her mind caged inside a prison of flesh. Wide awake, fully aware, but completely helpless as he jerked her this way and that on phantom puppet strings, using her however he wanted. Never knowing what her traitorous body would do next, dreading every waking moment.
She didn't deserve sympathy. She was a mass-murdering monster who'd killed thousands, probably tens of thousands of innocent people. But he could have given her up to the PRT. The Nine were gone, and there were no other big threats left in the Bay that warranted keeping her in that kind of torture, much less anyone else.
Which meant he was doing it for no other reason than because he could. I edged closer to Skitter and shuddered.
"Anything else we should know?" Grue said, turning to Tattletale.
"Not much, boss." She added the last word almost belatedly. "I couldn't get much off of Dragon; I think she was hedging, leaving her options open. She could be here tomorrow to bring us in, she could never come, or she could land right on top of Coil in his civvies. Fuck if I know."
"Well that sounds like great fun," Regent said, standing up with a theatrical yawn. "I don't know about y'all, but I don't wanna be caught here when Dragon decides to get off her ass. I'm headed back. Call me if you care. Or don't."
"Wait, Regent–" Skitter started as he strolled towards the door.
"Don't bother," Imp interrupted. "I'm going–"
"What about you, Tattletale?" Skitter asked.
"Much as I hate to admit it, I think Regent has the right idea," she replied. "We aren't really accomplishing much staying here. Head back to your headquarters. Don't make waves, but prepare for the worst. The usual, really."
She snorted at her own humorless joke and got up to leave. Bitch had already headed outside without a word, which didn't surprise me. She didn't exactly seem like the type to say goodbye. That left me, Skitter, and Grue.
I tried not to stare or fidget as they stood in silence for a moment. There was obviously some kind of tension between them, though what kind exactly I couldn't tell. Was it an authority issue? Grue was nominally the leader, but Skitter and Tattletale had run much of the call and aftermath today. Or maybe it was something more… personal.
My stomach clenched. I didn't want to think about Skitter selling me out because her team leader asked her to. It felt shameful and unfair to even think that little of her. But with so much hanging in the air, I couldn't help but wonder.
"I hope you're happy now," Grue said, at length.
Skitter's bugs rose and fell in a wave across the walls. "You know it's not that simple."
"It never is, is it?"
They stared at each other for another charged moment. For an absurd second, I almost thought it was going to turn into another fight. It certainly felt like they were poised on the brink of something fast and violent. The awkward, halting conversation was a creaking dike holding back a flash flood. I could almost hear the water straining to breach its banks and devastate everything downstream.
But whatever they had chained up between them, today wasn't the day it broke free.
"Stay out of trouble, Skitter," Grue said as he turned to leave.
"You too," Skitter said, not watching as he left.
The door closed, and it was just the two of us.
Skitter slumped, dropping into the nearest chair. She looked smaller like this, not towering over me like usual. She was so tall and slim that most of the time she looked like an adult. But sitting like this, back bowed and head resting on the arm she had propped up on the table, I could see every inch of weight she carried. Physical and otherwise.
I considered reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, before I thought better of it. I remembered how she'd reacted last time, and I could hardly begrudge her an aversion to touch, not when I felt the same way. Not to mention, with her lying on her right arm I could only reach the one she'd been stabbed through. I didn't dare touch her there, not when it was probably hurting. So instead I sat down across from her and waited.
Eventually, she sighed.
"Well, that couldn't have gone much worse."
I shook my head.
"Really?" Skitter asked, not looking up. "You're gonna have to explain that one to me. We just gave up our best advantage against the Tinker we know is coming to arrest us. We didn't learn anything we didn't already know. She didn't promise anything or offer any chance at amnesty. We betrayed our boss, so now we're fucked when he finds out. And the others all think I fucked up. Even if most won't say it to my face."
I swallowed. That was… a lot, true. But I could break it down one piece at a time.
"She already knew you knew she was coming," I signed. Her head was still resting on her arm away from me, but I knew she was paying attention, somehow. If she couldn't keep track of what I was saying, she'd have moved. She wasn't the kind of person who let details slip just because she was tired.
"And of course you didn't hear anything new," I added. "This was about you reaching out to her."
"Fine," Skitter said, dull and listless, "but that doesn't solve my other problems."
I struggled to hold in a sigh. "Of course she didn't tell you anything. Why would she?"
"What do you mean 'why would she?' We just told her everything she wanted to know!" Skitter snapped. Her free arm fisted on the edge of the table and she ground her knuckles into the cheap plastic surface.
"Yes," I signed patiently, "you did. But she has no way of knowing you're telling the truth right now. She can't make promises to anyone who gives her a crying story. You wouldn't either, in her place."
"And the bit about calling us terrorists was just harmless name calling, then?"
"No. It was a hint."
A moment of silence, and Skitter sat up and looked at me, alert, focused, the weariness receding as fast as it had come on. "Explain."
I swallowed, rubbing the meat of my thumb and flexing my fingers. My hands were hurting again, a twinging tired ache in my joints that went down to the bone, but this was important. "When she said she doesn't talk with t-e-r-r-o-r-i-s-t-s, it was a threat. But it was also a way out."
"I'm still confused," Skitter said.
Oh my god, this girl… "It means don't be terrorists, and she might be able to talk with you. Think about it from her angle. Even if she knew you were telling the truth, she's a part of the government right now. She's been told to capture you. She can't be seen making deals with enemies of the state. But if you try and clean up your reputation…"
She paused, considering my point. "That's a hell of a bet to take. She didn't say any of that outright."
"She can't, and you know it," I replied.
"What if you're wrong? What if Dragon attacks tomorrow? What are you going to do?"
Bile rose in my throat. "That's not fair," I signed.
Skitter's fist clenched again on the table. "Maybe not. But it could happen. If the next time a hero decides to push me down in the dirt and–"
She looked down. My hand was covering hers. I hadn't even noticed reaching out, but I didn't take it back. We stared at each other.
"I'm n-not leaving," I said.
She stared at me. "Even if Dragon comes?"
I nodded, pulling my hand back.
"I still think I'm right. But if I'm not, then at the very least I stay and deal with my mistakes."
Skitter snorted. "That's one better than most heroes do around me."
I gave her a pained smile at that. I couldn't help but wonder how we would've met if things had been different. What exactly had gotten Skitter into villainy? There were still decisions she made that gave me pause. Of course there were. But in moments like this, I could almost see another girl. One who went to the Wards. Who became an independent Hero somewhere else. Who could've been a really good one.
What happened to that girl? What changed?
"I guess we should get back to the hideout," Skitter said, breaking my train of thought. She got up and stretched. "Charlotte is probably getting worried at this point, and we need to tell her to order food supplies ahead of time just in case."
"Why?"
"Because if Dragon is coming, I can't afford to take any chances. I might get taken in, or pinned down somewhere else. I'm not leaving the kids in the wind like that."
I smiled at her, even as I got up myself. "Fair enough."
I tried to turn over my thoughts as we walked to the door. I wanted to ask her something but… in light of what Grue said earlier, I wasn't sure if now was the best time. There was already a great deal of tension between her and her team, and if I kept asking for favors it might get worse. At the same time, while I could do it alone… I wanted her there. I was selfish enough to admit that. But I don't know if I had the right to–
"What is it?"
I startled, looking up at where Skitter had stopped ahead of me. "Your shoulders are tense, and you're squeezing the centipede."
My fingers sprang open in panic, fast enough that I almost sent the little insect flying off me. It quickly scurried around the back of my hand before jumping off into the grip of a pair of beetles–presumably to rejoin the rest of the swarm. At least I hadn't killed it.
"You clearly have a question," Skitter said, graciously not mentioning my reaction. "What is it?"
I swallowed again, and asked.
"I need to talk to the Heroes. And I want you there for it."
A/N:
Boy I sure didn't expect that response to last chapter. You guys really had some thoughts. I appreciate the engagement! But just in case, I thought I'd reiterate here. Just because our perspective is mainly from Victoria, that doesn't make what she says right or true. She can (and often is) wrong about some of the nuances she observes. The interludes are meant to (in part) correct for that, by showing how other people view the same information. Some of the things she says and thinks in this chapter are on target, some aren't. We'll see just how much as we go.
But other than that, lots of little things this chapter. More Undersiders barely managing not to kill one another. More of Skitter trying to pretend she knows what she's doing, though this time we get to see a tiny bit behind that act. And more of Victoria slowly realizing she's balancing atop a house of cards. But she can fly, so that metaphor sucks. Man, I'm bad at writing.
Today's rec is Desperate Times Call For Desperate Pleasures by R3NN41SS4NC3. Honestly I can't believe I haven't recced this one before, I guess I just thought it had a wider audience than it did. The premise is that Amy meets Taylor early on in canon, who has Cherish's power this go around. The two figure out that Amy has a bit of a problem, and Taylor of course offers to mind control Amy into loving someone else. Honestly I have trouble reading this one myself because secondhand embarrassment makes me want to jump out a window, but it's such a good look into Amy that I feel compelled to mention it anyways. Mind the content warnings and make sure you're in the right headspace for it, everyone is a trash monster (affectionate/derogatory). Give it a read.
- Location
- The Internet?
Heh, Dragon lady. It's funny, because while she is a dragon, and a lady, she is quite simply not a dragon lady.
Grue, you were the one concerned about rep, don't get upset now, come on. You're #1, you're #1! Now Imp and Regent just need to get the foam fingers to make it official. (But also, TIL that in the US, you put the commas inside the quotes, and that it's a British-ism/the practice of UK English to have the commas outside of the quote marks, so I'll quit bugging you when I spot it.)
'I learned it from watching
Why would you? You're not (topical airline reference)! Just Victorian Airways. The Glory Glider. Air Dallon. The Blonde Bomber Brigade (just gotta swipe some more of the PRT's Bakuda stock to make that one work)...
Like Skitter does!
So they can kill her! Like the good guys are supposed to!
But also because end of the day, he's a squishy guy and having a macro-Shaker is a decent way to keep people from ganking him.
Joke's on you, she doesn't have an ass! And not just because everyone knows girls don't poop!
Victoria, you can fly, just give her some headpats, come on, it's simple.
Should it be 'everyone,' and not 'anyone?' I mean, they both work, but I would imagine Dragon can promise to... look into things, and I suppose she did, but still... you get what I mean, right? For a human in Dragon's position, she wouldn't be able to help everyone, but as a heroically inclined individual, she'd think to help at least some of the people, some of the time.
Vic, you've been asking quite a bit of Skitter, turnabout seems like fair play, even if it's just making sure she knows which way the wind's blowing.
Heroism.
Have I mentioned yet that I love the examples we get of synchronized skittering from a perspective outside of Taylor's? Because this is like, some Beetle Team Six levels of coordination.
Categorically false! The proof is in how much I (and plenty of other people, most certainly,) enjoyed this update. Well done!
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Victoria: It's simple, don't be terrorists.
Skitter: I think I understand.
Narrator: Skitter did in fact, not understand.
I guess Victoria is going to try and get the heroes in on the Coil thing? That seems like a big risk for loose lips, especially with all the bureaucracy they'd have to go through to take part. Or maybe it's something else... I'm not sure what they'd contribute to the whole family situation, but... She's not going to tell them what Amy did, is she? I didn't think she was there yet, emotionally. The Coil thing seems more likely, especially if Victoria is going to be all-in with Skitter.
Skitter: I think I understand.
Narrator: Skitter did in fact, not understand.
I guess Victoria is going to try and get the heroes in on the Coil thing? That seems like a big risk for loose lips, especially with all the bureaucracy they'd have to go through to take part. Or maybe it's something else... I'm not sure what they'd contribute to the whole family situation, but... She's not going to tell them what Amy did, is she? I didn't think she was there yet, emotionally. The Coil thing seems more likely, especially if Victoria is going to be all-in with Skitter.
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- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Holy smokes that was TENSE!
So much happening and so many details to catch, but also so compelling I can't help but go as fast as I can to see what happens next. That said I did find some fun lil nuggets.
Ohh Vicky, love how you don't notice how much you DO know her, and pay attention to her and even her slightest tells. This such an INCREDIBLY SLOW burn romance its agonizing. It's perfect.
Ya know, I think Im finally starting to understand why everyone loves this bug so much!!!! Its such an interesting lifeline of connection between two people with so many issues trusting anyone at all. Here Vicky goes trying to offer the prickliest porcupine what small amount of comfort she's able to manage right now.
Ya know, Im really hazy on how Grue's power works after his second trigger, but at this point isn't it likely he snaked some of his power under the table to snag Vicky's power? He probably didn't feel anything cause hes a heckin brute right now….
Anyway. All the characters are so real to me jn this. Dragon especially. I love Vicky's reminder to the audience that this one cape has the ability to send military grade fighter craft after them at a moments notice.
Such a good update!!!
So much happening and so many details to catch, but also so compelling I can't help but go as fast as I can to see what happens next. That said I did find some fun lil nuggets.
Ohh Vicky, love how you don't notice how much you DO know her, and pay attention to her and even her slightest tells. This such an INCREDIBLY SLOW burn romance its agonizing. It's perfect.
Ya know, I think Im finally starting to understand why everyone loves this bug so much!!!! Its such an interesting lifeline of connection between two people with so many issues trusting anyone at all. Here Vicky goes trying to offer the prickliest porcupine what small amount of comfort she's able to manage right now.
Ya know, Im really hazy on how Grue's power works after his second trigger, but at this point isn't it likely he snaked some of his power under the table to snag Vicky's power? He probably didn't feel anything cause hes a heckin brute right now….
Anyway. All the characters are so real to me jn this. Dragon especially. I love Vicky's reminder to the audience that this one cape has the ability to send military grade fighter craft after them at a moments notice.
Such a good update!!!
Binary 3.7
"Charlotte, contact Forrest and Sierra and tell them to drop whatever they're doing and get back here," Skitter ordered as soon as she opened the door of the hideout. We hadn't said anything on the way back; Skitter hadn't been willing to risk it when we didn't know who was watching. After the details on Coil and the call with Dragon, I couldn't blame her for her paranoia.
"Boss? What's up? Why didn't you call?" Charlotte asked, quickly getting up off the couch where she had been playing some kind of a board game with the kids. The others – Marcus and Shay today – stood to attention but didn't speak. Maybe didn't dare speak, feeling the charged intensity crackling off Skitter like static electricity. Skitter's henchmen were mostly in the base on a rotating basis; Sierra, Forrest and Charlotte were the only full-timers. I hadn't interacted much with the others, but Shay and Marcus had at least been polite to me when I'd run into them a few days ago.
"Can't call," Skitter said shortly, closing the door and locking it. "That reminds me; assume anything with a microphone is being tapped by Dragon, especially phones. There's nothing we can do to stop her, but we can limit calls to emergencies."
She turned to the other two minions still standing to attention. "Secure the base. Shay, I want you fastening the shutters on the windows. The metal ones are down in the basement. Tighten the screws firmly, the tolerances on them aren't great. Close the lower sewer entrance and switch on the motion sensors. After that take inventory of the supplies in the basement. I want an itemized list of how much food, hygiene supplies and bottled water we have. Project how many days we have of standard use of each."
Shay nodded and ran towards the lower stairs, her long legs quickly eating up the distance. Skitter focused on Marcus. "You're on babysitting duty. The kids are going to notice the commotion, and we need to do this too fast to bother hiding it. They're going to get anxious, if not worse. We can't afford to have to deal with a full on meltdown in the middle of this. Distract them. Board games, a movie, I don't care if they ask you about what your grandmother ate last weekend. Keep them occupied. If I have to split my attention to handle anything, I won't be happy."
Marcus swallowed, a trickle of sweat beading down his neck. "Got it," he said before speed walking towards the living room where the kids were.
Before I could process any of that, Skitter was addressing Charlotte again. "Where are Forrest and Sierra at the moment?"
"T-they're out," She said, looking from side to side. Her eyes were wide at how quickly and fiercely Skitter had started rapping out orders, but her answer was prompt, reflex driving her mouth for a moment as her brain caught up. Her voice got stronger as she continued, finding her feet and settling back into the mold of Skitter's professional lieutenant. "David needed a stronger inhaler for his asthma. There was some kind of gunfight up towards the Trainyard and a bunch of vehicles got set on fire; the smoke's been blowing over and setting him off all day. Sierra was going to restock on medical supplies in general while she picked up the inhaler, and Forrest didn't trust that she'd be fine on her own so–"
"That's fine," Skitter cut her off. "The gunfight up near the Trainyard; was it anything to do with us?"
"I don't think so? We haven't heard much else about it."
"Have someone find out. You help Marcus get the kids settled and then meet us up in my room on the top floor as soon as you can. We need to talk about things going forward."
Charlotte's eyes hardened. "You got it boss." She shot a passing glare at me as she went back to soothe the kids in the living room, who by the sounds of it were getting increasingly anxious.
Looking at Skitter, I could hardly blame them. She always tended to keep a supply of bugs hidden on her, but they were never obvious. I only noticed because I spent so much time in close proximity. Right now though, her costume was a writhing suit of mandibles and shells and twitching legs, insects covering almost every possible gap. It felt like a defensive reaction, armoring herself in carapaces, jaws and stingers.
"Let's go," she said, starting to walk up the stairs.
I followed after her, barely parsing the words. This wasn't the first time she'd let me into her space. I'd been up here before, after Flechette had impaled her at Parian's base.
I suppressed a shudder, wrapping my arms around myself as we reached the second floor landing. That had been a nightmare. I'd seen worse injuries, sure. Some that… I had caused. But I usually had… well. Other options available to treat them. In Dolltown I hadn't even been sure Skitter would live, never mind if she would be permanently maimed.
But this time was different. This wasn't out of necessity. Or if it was, it was still Skitter making the choice to include me. She could've just told Charlotte whatever she needed to in private, but instead she wanted me involved. I couldn't help but think that had something to do with the meeting with the Undersiders we'd just come from.
"I'm n-not leaving."
I could still hear my broken words echoing mockingly in my ears. Was I really prepared to back them up? When things went south, as they inevitably seemed to when Skitter was involved? I didn't know if I could say I would, now that the moment of adrenaline had passed and reality was sinking in. But I did know that this was a display of trust on her part. I had to respect that.
Skitter paused right in front of the door to the third story. I waited behind her. Was she having second thoughts? Was this too much?
"Victoria…"
I held my breath.
But Skitter just sighed. "It's nothing."
It wasn't, but she pushed the door open and stepped through before I could decide whether to call her on it. I slowly made my way up and into the room after her. I had seen Skitter's room before, and it was as spartan as I remembered. But now that I had the time to actually look around, a few details stuck out.
A bookshelf occupied the far wall opposite me, stuffed to the brim. Mostly classic English literature from what I could see, though I recognized a few sci-fi novels mixed in among them.
More important than the content of the books, though, was what they represented. Books were extremely susceptible to the elements – especially water damage and mold. Combined with the ever-present insects surrounding Skitter's territory, few paperbacks would have lasted long past Leviathan, nevermind the weeks since. But these were obviously well cared for.
That meant one of two things. Either Skitter had carried a personal supply that she'd cared for the entire time, or she had these books imported. Likely from the same person–Coil, I reminded myself–who supplied her terrariums. Either way; Skitter clearly cared about reading a lot more than she let on to anyone outside of this room.
A small desk sat at the other end of the room, with a lamp and an old laptop with a screensaver running. I tried not to look any closer. I could tell from the papers and cork board above that this was where Skitter ran the logistics side of her territory. And while she had trusted me to be here, I didn't want to push that with a repeat of the first night I was here.
The only other object of note was her bed; a plain affair with white sheets and a navy blue pillow. Functional. The bedside table beside it however, grabbed my attention and riveted it to what lay there. A well worn, dog eared guide to American Sign language. The same book she had given me weeks ago. There were sticky notes all throughout it, and the spine was visibly creased.
What… did... had she not known sign language before I came? All this time, I'd just assumed she'd known it for ages, that she must have offered the book as a way to communicate in a language she was already fluent in. But this... this said otherwise.
Had she been learning ASL this whole time, just to be able to understand me?
I turned to her, hands mid-motion to sign my question, but Skitter was already staring at me. I froze.
"I never said I'd only gotten one copy," she said, jerking her head towards the bedside table. That… wasn't even remotely the question I wanted to ask. But Charlotte's heavy footsteps came rushing up the stairs before I could reorganize my thoughts.
"Okay boss, the kids are okay. Marcus is looking after them. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
Skitter gave her a sharp look, but didn't chastise her. "I said the phones were tapped. By Dragon."
We both nodded.
Skitter took a breath. "Victoria told me earlier that she had information that Dragon was coming to Brockton in person to arrest the Undersiders."
"What?" Charlotte gasped, taking an instinctive step back. "They can't do that! You said–"
"Evidently I was wrong," Skitter replied, turning to stare moodily at the cork board. "I have to admit at least that much. I've put you, Sierra, Forrest and the kids at risk."
There was a pause, before Charlotte firmed her jaw and stepped forward. "That's not your fault, boss. We all chose to be here. You would've let anyone leave if they wanted to. Her included," she said, jerking her head at me. "This isn't on you."
"Maybe. Maybe not." Skitter's shoulders slumped for a moment, but then she straightened her back and folded her arms behind her, turning back to us. "In any case, we need to deal with this now. For the moment, treat Dragon as an active threat. If any of you hear the sound of approaching turbines or anything resembling a Dragonflight, get back to the hideout as fast as you can. That, or go to ground. Whatever's safer."
"And what about you?" Charlotte asked, her eyes hard.
"I'll do what I must," Skitter said. "Just like always. There's a chance that we might be able to solve the Dragon issue without fighting, but assume otherwise unless I say so. What's Shay's report on our resources?"
Charlotte frowned. "She's not done taking inventory yet, but probably enough for a few days. Not much more than that, though. Our resupply is due soon, so we weren't accounting for much of a buffer past that."
"That won't be enough," Skitter muttered to herself, before addressing Charlotte again. "I'll get in contact with Coil, ask for an advance on supplies. I'll fill you in on the details once it's been arranged, just get it inside and squared away as fast as you can. I'll try to shoot for a week for safety, but no promises. Have the kids start rationing now, just in case."
"They won't like that," Charlotte warned.
"They'll like starving less," Skitter replied grimly.
Well. Neither of us could argue with that.
"What about Forrest and Sierra? They're still out," Charlotte asked. I'd half forgotten them in the intense discussion. They were more distant than Charlotte; I hadn't spent much time around either of them. Maybe this would be a chance to get to know them better, I thought with a thin slant of a smile. Fleeing from the wrath of an unstoppable draconic cape who'd taken on an Endbringer solo had to be a great bonding experience, right?
It might be gallows humor, but the sarcasm made me feel a little better. I knew better than to share it with Skitter or Charlotte, though.
"If you've called them back, they should be here soon," Skitter said. "It's not worth risking breaking comms to tell them anything. If they're six hours behind or later, we assume they're captured or otherwise inaccessible and plan accordingly. I'll do what I can for them. Otherwise, tell them what we talked about here once they arrive."
"Fine," Charlotte said. "I can do that. Although…"
"What?"
"...what do I tell the kids?"
Skitter paused. My breath caught in my chest. "Tell them… that we're running low on food," she decided after a moment's hesitation. "We're going to get more soon, but they need to hold tight until then. Blame me if it helps."
Charlotte nodded, gave me a glance, then hurried downstairs to start breaking the news to the children.
I looked at Skitter. If her shoulders were slumped before, they looked leaden now. She rolled her left shoulder, then rolled it again, one hand coming up thoughtlessly to rub at it like she was trying to massage out a sore muscle. The flinch as her fingers made contact was so subtle that I barely caught it, and didn't stop her from trying to squeeze the tension out of her overstressed neck.
I couldn't blame her for being exhausted, not really. I knew that we had done the right thing, contacting Dragon. But it was a lot harder to see that when these were the kinds of conversations that resulted.
"Victoria," Skitter said. She paused for a moment, as if unable to find the next words. "Explain what you said earlier."
I bit my lip. It felt almost hypocritical after that last conversation, but this was probably the most privacy we were going to have for a while. Definitely the most privacy we had available right now. If I didn't ask now, I wouldn't ever. But first I needed to clear the air.
"Before I start, I need to apologize. I think I led Dragon here."
Instantly Skitter's body bristled, the insects spilling out of her hair and over her silk in a wave of stingers, mandibles and pincers. "Go on." Her voice was deceptively flat.
I swallowed, and tried not to tremble as I signed, "My phone. We used it to text Carol earlier. I think she was listening in on that and not Tattletale's burner."
She stared at me for a long moment. I resisted the urge to hold my breath through force of will. I didn't want to look at the swarm surrounding us to know how she felt. After what felt like minutes, the tension bled out of her shoulders. "That figures."
I didn't try to mask my shock. "What?"
Skitter let out something approaching a laugh, sharp and bitter. "Of course our early warning ends up leading her right to us. That's just my luck."
Looking at it like that, I could see the dark irony in the situation. But I had to draw her attention back to the unspoken issue. "But I didn't bring it up when I realized in the meeting."
She sighed. "You didn't. But we didn't say much she didn't already know, and I technically gave you the thing. It's not like it was on purpose, and you did turn it off after… right?"
I nodded frantically after she let the question hang. I'd done that almost as soon as we left the building and started walking back, trying not to show how scared I was that I'd doomed us before we even started.
Skitter nodded. Her bugs shifted to her back and hair again, scratching as they went over her armor plating. "Then you did what you could. I can work with that." That was… better than I expected. Though her reasoning made sense.
We sat in silence for a moment, before Skitter spoke up again. "You still haven't explained why you want to talk to the heroes, though."
"My mom is defending Amy. I need to confront the Protectorate about it. And I want you with me."
Skitter's sudden bark of laughter surprised me. Even the insects on her person responded, their wings and legs fluttering in a harsh buzzing sound. Something in my chest twisted. I knew it was a hard ask but I hadn't expected to be mocked for it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Skitter managed, "but this really is too funny. We just had that whole conversation with Grue about laying low, not getting mixed up in anything high profile. And now you want to confront the Protectorate in the open, with me right beside you. Do you remember what happened the last time I met a hero?"
She rolled her shoulder again for emphasis, and I flinched. No, I hadn't forgotten that nightmare. But this was important. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't.
"This is different."
"I don't see how. Or why you need me there."
I swallowed tightly. "Because Dragon is coming. She doesn't trust that I'm not mind controlled, and I don't blame her. If she gets there early while I'm talking and restrains me, I'll go back to the Heroes. And they can't guarantee that I won't go right back home to Carol. To her."
Skitter's entire body language changed. The moths and hornets and beetles covering her flew up and off her in one fluid wave, casting themselves away to reveal the chitin and silk beneath.
"Well. That changes things. You want me for, what, protection?"
I nodded.
"Mmm. What's the other reason though? If Dragon comes, it's still going to be difficult to get away even if I'm there. You might even have better odds alone – you're faster than I am. There must be something else."
I bit my lip, resisting the urge to glance at her swarm. I knew she'd see if I did. I knew – or at least suspected – by this point that she emoted through her bugs. But I didn't want to take my eyes away from hers. "I said earlier to not be terrorists, this is part of that. You show to the Heroes that you can talk without fighting. And I show them I'm not under your control."
There was a pause. Her yellow eyes glimmered. "I still don't buy it," she said. "There's something else. Something you're hiding." I could hear the suspicion in her tone, but in a weird way it almost reassured me. She could hide it under her emotionless facade if she wanted to. I could hear it in her voice because she was letting me.
And she was right. There was something else. But I was hoping not to have to spell it out plainly. But apparently she was getting as good at reading me as I was at reading her. I took a deep breath.
"Because I want you there."
Skitter tilted her head. Aside from that, she'd gone utterly still. Had I surprised her? The urge to look at the swarm was overwhelming, but I clamped down on the temptation, locking my eyes with hers, widening them a little. I knew she wasn't heartless. I was willing to put on a pleading look and tug at her sympathy if it got me her help here, even if it felt manipulative.
"I'm gonna be talking to the Heroes. People I know. They want me to come back to them, and while I have reasons not to, it's hard to remember that in the moment. I'm afraid I'll say yes because they ask, not because I want to. I want a reminder of why I left."
There it was. That was all I had for this selfish, stupid request. Because, for some godforsaken reason, I couldn't imagine doing this without Skitter at my side. And I wanted this badly enough that I was willing to accept that cost.
"You're that serious," Skitter said, her tone almost wondering.
I nodded.
"Alright."
I blinked. Was it that easy?
Skitter seemed to sense my confusion, and laughed softly. "Honestly, I'm always willing to throw down with the heroes. I'll be nice about it this time, sure, but you're telling me I have an opportunity to throw their double standards right back in their faces? I'll take it."
I… wouldn't put it quite like that. "You still can't fight them outright."
"Yes, I know that," Skitter said. I could hear the smirk in her voice, though I wasn't sure it was entirely friendly. "That doesn't mean I won't come."
She paused for a moment, and before I could interject she spoke again, her voice hard. "But we don't tell them first."
I blinked. Wait what? We'd just… let them find us? That meant we'd be surprising them in the open, and taking our chances on who found us. That defied the entire point of the exercise! We needed to be open to show Skitter could be reasoned with. "We need to tell them first though. The last time we ran into the Heroes by surprise it didn't go well."
"Yes, but in case you didn't notice we don't exactly have the element of surprise anymore," Skitter drawled. I tried to hide my mortification at the pointed edge of her words. "The phone may not have been your fault, but reaching out now would be. I know a standard patrol route, we'll take who we get. I won't start a fight, but I will finish it. Anything further is on them."
"But–"
"No," Skitter cut me off mid-word. "You want to meet the heroes, and against my better judgement I'm willing to try because it's important. But we do it on my terms, or not at all." Her words were iron, and fell with as much weight. I tried not to shudder at the finality of it.
"...Fine," I signed. I wasn't happy about this, and I didn't bother hiding it. But Skitter had already done far more for me than I could have asked, and we both knew it.
"And while we're at it, I want to take a few days to finish securing the base," she added belatedly. "I won't feel comfortable leaving my territory until I can trust things are finished between inventory and perimeter security."
I nodded absentmindedly. That much made sense. No, it was her first condition that worried me. It wasn't great, optics wise. Surprising the Heroes instead of reaching out meant they'd be on the defensive, and we might get someone like Assault who would ruin our chance before we started. But I could make it work so long as she didn't antagonize whoever we ran into too much. I might be able to make this work. Though… there was one last thing I could do to hedge our bets.
"What is it?" Skitter asked, apparently sensing unspoken thought. Her voice was sharp.
My hands shook as I brought them up to sign. "I want to wash out the dye from my hair."
Skitter stared at me. For the first time, I blushed. Holding her gaze earlier had been a plea to sway her. This felt more like I was the one being exposed. But I didn't look away. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. This was too important.
"Victoria," she said softly, "if this is about what Grue said earlier, you don't need to prove yourself. I know this isn't a set up–"
"It's not about that," I signed.
"Then what?"
I swallowed. I knew I had to do this right, if I was going to do it at all I wanted Skitter by my side for this, but I couldn't hide behind her. Physically or otherwise. I didn't stand behind all that Skitter did, but she was sticking her neck out for me. The least I could do was match that.
"If I'm with you, then I'm with you. No hiding."
Skitter didn't say anything, but I'd like to think she was smiling.
A/N:
Victoria is definitely trying. Skitter is too. Funny how that always seems to make it worse. A coincidence I'm sure. This time with the Heroes will definitely go better. Trust me. When have I ever used an opportunity to resolve a conflict to traumatize everyone more instead? Pics or it didn't happen.
Lots of set up here, but it's necessary for what comes later. A lot of the early parts of this story (I say at almost 100k words) is about managing the levels of dramatic irony. In other words, showing Victoria finding out things the audience already knows. We see that here with the ASL book, since we obviously know Skitter didn't know ASL prior to this fic. If Victoria were to think about it logically it shouldn't be a surprise – most people don't know – but it's less about that and more what it means. The journal technically worked. But it was slow and awkward for her. Skitter was willing to expend a significant amount of effort to make that process easier, and she didn't tell her she was doing it. That means a lot.
Today's rec is The Office Politics of Pantheons, by TheSleepingKnight. This is actually a newer fic, and has the honor of being the first DC fic (if only as a cross) that I was willing to read. Alexandria comes in contact with another Earth, and has a meeting with the Justice League on coordinating heroing. A really good case study on the differences in morality prioritization between the two groups. Plus it writes Alexandria as an internally complex compelling character. Give it some love.
"Boss? What's up? Why didn't you call?" Charlotte asked, quickly getting up off the couch where she had been playing some kind of a board game with the kids. The others – Marcus and Shay today – stood to attention but didn't speak. Maybe didn't dare speak, feeling the charged intensity crackling off Skitter like static electricity. Skitter's henchmen were mostly in the base on a rotating basis; Sierra, Forrest and Charlotte were the only full-timers. I hadn't interacted much with the others, but Shay and Marcus had at least been polite to me when I'd run into them a few days ago.
"Can't call," Skitter said shortly, closing the door and locking it. "That reminds me; assume anything with a microphone is being tapped by Dragon, especially phones. There's nothing we can do to stop her, but we can limit calls to emergencies."
She turned to the other two minions still standing to attention. "Secure the base. Shay, I want you fastening the shutters on the windows. The metal ones are down in the basement. Tighten the screws firmly, the tolerances on them aren't great. Close the lower sewer entrance and switch on the motion sensors. After that take inventory of the supplies in the basement. I want an itemized list of how much food, hygiene supplies and bottled water we have. Project how many days we have of standard use of each."
Shay nodded and ran towards the lower stairs, her long legs quickly eating up the distance. Skitter focused on Marcus. "You're on babysitting duty. The kids are going to notice the commotion, and we need to do this too fast to bother hiding it. They're going to get anxious, if not worse. We can't afford to have to deal with a full on meltdown in the middle of this. Distract them. Board games, a movie, I don't care if they ask you about what your grandmother ate last weekend. Keep them occupied. If I have to split my attention to handle anything, I won't be happy."
Marcus swallowed, a trickle of sweat beading down his neck. "Got it," he said before speed walking towards the living room where the kids were.
Before I could process any of that, Skitter was addressing Charlotte again. "Where are Forrest and Sierra at the moment?"
"T-they're out," She said, looking from side to side. Her eyes were wide at how quickly and fiercely Skitter had started rapping out orders, but her answer was prompt, reflex driving her mouth for a moment as her brain caught up. Her voice got stronger as she continued, finding her feet and settling back into the mold of Skitter's professional lieutenant. "David needed a stronger inhaler for his asthma. There was some kind of gunfight up towards the Trainyard and a bunch of vehicles got set on fire; the smoke's been blowing over and setting him off all day. Sierra was going to restock on medical supplies in general while she picked up the inhaler, and Forrest didn't trust that she'd be fine on her own so–"
"That's fine," Skitter cut her off. "The gunfight up near the Trainyard; was it anything to do with us?"
"I don't think so? We haven't heard much else about it."
"Have someone find out. You help Marcus get the kids settled and then meet us up in my room on the top floor as soon as you can. We need to talk about things going forward."
Charlotte's eyes hardened. "You got it boss." She shot a passing glare at me as she went back to soothe the kids in the living room, who by the sounds of it were getting increasingly anxious.
Looking at Skitter, I could hardly blame them. She always tended to keep a supply of bugs hidden on her, but they were never obvious. I only noticed because I spent so much time in close proximity. Right now though, her costume was a writhing suit of mandibles and shells and twitching legs, insects covering almost every possible gap. It felt like a defensive reaction, armoring herself in carapaces, jaws and stingers.
"Let's go," she said, starting to walk up the stairs.
I followed after her, barely parsing the words. This wasn't the first time she'd let me into her space. I'd been up here before, after Flechette had impaled her at Parian's base.
I suppressed a shudder, wrapping my arms around myself as we reached the second floor landing. That had been a nightmare. I'd seen worse injuries, sure. Some that… I had caused. But I usually had… well. Other options available to treat them. In Dolltown I hadn't even been sure Skitter would live, never mind if she would be permanently maimed.
But this time was different. This wasn't out of necessity. Or if it was, it was still Skitter making the choice to include me. She could've just told Charlotte whatever she needed to in private, but instead she wanted me involved. I couldn't help but think that had something to do with the meeting with the Undersiders we'd just come from.
"I'm n-not leaving."
I could still hear my broken words echoing mockingly in my ears. Was I really prepared to back them up? When things went south, as they inevitably seemed to when Skitter was involved? I didn't know if I could say I would, now that the moment of adrenaline had passed and reality was sinking in. But I did know that this was a display of trust on her part. I had to respect that.
Skitter paused right in front of the door to the third story. I waited behind her. Was she having second thoughts? Was this too much?
"Victoria…"
I held my breath.
But Skitter just sighed. "It's nothing."
It wasn't, but she pushed the door open and stepped through before I could decide whether to call her on it. I slowly made my way up and into the room after her. I had seen Skitter's room before, and it was as spartan as I remembered. But now that I had the time to actually look around, a few details stuck out.
A bookshelf occupied the far wall opposite me, stuffed to the brim. Mostly classic English literature from what I could see, though I recognized a few sci-fi novels mixed in among them.
More important than the content of the books, though, was what they represented. Books were extremely susceptible to the elements – especially water damage and mold. Combined with the ever-present insects surrounding Skitter's territory, few paperbacks would have lasted long past Leviathan, nevermind the weeks since. But these were obviously well cared for.
That meant one of two things. Either Skitter had carried a personal supply that she'd cared for the entire time, or she had these books imported. Likely from the same person–Coil, I reminded myself–who supplied her terrariums. Either way; Skitter clearly cared about reading a lot more than she let on to anyone outside of this room.
A small desk sat at the other end of the room, with a lamp and an old laptop with a screensaver running. I tried not to look any closer. I could tell from the papers and cork board above that this was where Skitter ran the logistics side of her territory. And while she had trusted me to be here, I didn't want to push that with a repeat of the first night I was here.
The only other object of note was her bed; a plain affair with white sheets and a navy blue pillow. Functional. The bedside table beside it however, grabbed my attention and riveted it to what lay there. A well worn, dog eared guide to American Sign language. The same book she had given me weeks ago. There were sticky notes all throughout it, and the spine was visibly creased.
What… did... had she not known sign language before I came? All this time, I'd just assumed she'd known it for ages, that she must have offered the book as a way to communicate in a language she was already fluent in. But this... this said otherwise.
Had she been learning ASL this whole time, just to be able to understand me?
I turned to her, hands mid-motion to sign my question, but Skitter was already staring at me. I froze.
"I never said I'd only gotten one copy," she said, jerking her head towards the bedside table. That… wasn't even remotely the question I wanted to ask. But Charlotte's heavy footsteps came rushing up the stairs before I could reorganize my thoughts.
"Okay boss, the kids are okay. Marcus is looking after them. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
Skitter gave her a sharp look, but didn't chastise her. "I said the phones were tapped. By Dragon."
We both nodded.
Skitter took a breath. "Victoria told me earlier that she had information that Dragon was coming to Brockton in person to arrest the Undersiders."
"What?" Charlotte gasped, taking an instinctive step back. "They can't do that! You said–"
"Evidently I was wrong," Skitter replied, turning to stare moodily at the cork board. "I have to admit at least that much. I've put you, Sierra, Forrest and the kids at risk."
There was a pause, before Charlotte firmed her jaw and stepped forward. "That's not your fault, boss. We all chose to be here. You would've let anyone leave if they wanted to. Her included," she said, jerking her head at me. "This isn't on you."
"Maybe. Maybe not." Skitter's shoulders slumped for a moment, but then she straightened her back and folded her arms behind her, turning back to us. "In any case, we need to deal with this now. For the moment, treat Dragon as an active threat. If any of you hear the sound of approaching turbines or anything resembling a Dragonflight, get back to the hideout as fast as you can. That, or go to ground. Whatever's safer."
"And what about you?" Charlotte asked, her eyes hard.
"I'll do what I must," Skitter said. "Just like always. There's a chance that we might be able to solve the Dragon issue without fighting, but assume otherwise unless I say so. What's Shay's report on our resources?"
Charlotte frowned. "She's not done taking inventory yet, but probably enough for a few days. Not much more than that, though. Our resupply is due soon, so we weren't accounting for much of a buffer past that."
"That won't be enough," Skitter muttered to herself, before addressing Charlotte again. "I'll get in contact with Coil, ask for an advance on supplies. I'll fill you in on the details once it's been arranged, just get it inside and squared away as fast as you can. I'll try to shoot for a week for safety, but no promises. Have the kids start rationing now, just in case."
"They won't like that," Charlotte warned.
"They'll like starving less," Skitter replied grimly.
Well. Neither of us could argue with that.
"What about Forrest and Sierra? They're still out," Charlotte asked. I'd half forgotten them in the intense discussion. They were more distant than Charlotte; I hadn't spent much time around either of them. Maybe this would be a chance to get to know them better, I thought with a thin slant of a smile. Fleeing from the wrath of an unstoppable draconic cape who'd taken on an Endbringer solo had to be a great bonding experience, right?
It might be gallows humor, but the sarcasm made me feel a little better. I knew better than to share it with Skitter or Charlotte, though.
"If you've called them back, they should be here soon," Skitter said. "It's not worth risking breaking comms to tell them anything. If they're six hours behind or later, we assume they're captured or otherwise inaccessible and plan accordingly. I'll do what I can for them. Otherwise, tell them what we talked about here once they arrive."
"Fine," Charlotte said. "I can do that. Although…"
"What?"
"...what do I tell the kids?"
Skitter paused. My breath caught in my chest. "Tell them… that we're running low on food," she decided after a moment's hesitation. "We're going to get more soon, but they need to hold tight until then. Blame me if it helps."
Charlotte nodded, gave me a glance, then hurried downstairs to start breaking the news to the children.
I looked at Skitter. If her shoulders were slumped before, they looked leaden now. She rolled her left shoulder, then rolled it again, one hand coming up thoughtlessly to rub at it like she was trying to massage out a sore muscle. The flinch as her fingers made contact was so subtle that I barely caught it, and didn't stop her from trying to squeeze the tension out of her overstressed neck.
I couldn't blame her for being exhausted, not really. I knew that we had done the right thing, contacting Dragon. But it was a lot harder to see that when these were the kinds of conversations that resulted.
"Victoria," Skitter said. She paused for a moment, as if unable to find the next words. "Explain what you said earlier."
I bit my lip. It felt almost hypocritical after that last conversation, but this was probably the most privacy we were going to have for a while. Definitely the most privacy we had available right now. If I didn't ask now, I wouldn't ever. But first I needed to clear the air.
"Before I start, I need to apologize. I think I led Dragon here."
Instantly Skitter's body bristled, the insects spilling out of her hair and over her silk in a wave of stingers, mandibles and pincers. "Go on." Her voice was deceptively flat.
I swallowed, and tried not to tremble as I signed, "My phone. We used it to text Carol earlier. I think she was listening in on that and not Tattletale's burner."
She stared at me for a long moment. I resisted the urge to hold my breath through force of will. I didn't want to look at the swarm surrounding us to know how she felt. After what felt like minutes, the tension bled out of her shoulders. "That figures."
I didn't try to mask my shock. "What?"
Skitter let out something approaching a laugh, sharp and bitter. "Of course our early warning ends up leading her right to us. That's just my luck."
Looking at it like that, I could see the dark irony in the situation. But I had to draw her attention back to the unspoken issue. "But I didn't bring it up when I realized in the meeting."
She sighed. "You didn't. But we didn't say much she didn't already know, and I technically gave you the thing. It's not like it was on purpose, and you did turn it off after… right?"
I nodded frantically after she let the question hang. I'd done that almost as soon as we left the building and started walking back, trying not to show how scared I was that I'd doomed us before we even started.
Skitter nodded. Her bugs shifted to her back and hair again, scratching as they went over her armor plating. "Then you did what you could. I can work with that." That was… better than I expected. Though her reasoning made sense.
We sat in silence for a moment, before Skitter spoke up again. "You still haven't explained why you want to talk to the heroes, though."
"My mom is defending Amy. I need to confront the Protectorate about it. And I want you with me."
Skitter's sudden bark of laughter surprised me. Even the insects on her person responded, their wings and legs fluttering in a harsh buzzing sound. Something in my chest twisted. I knew it was a hard ask but I hadn't expected to be mocked for it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Skitter managed, "but this really is too funny. We just had that whole conversation with Grue about laying low, not getting mixed up in anything high profile. And now you want to confront the Protectorate in the open, with me right beside you. Do you remember what happened the last time I met a hero?"
She rolled her shoulder again for emphasis, and I flinched. No, I hadn't forgotten that nightmare. But this was important. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't.
"This is different."
"I don't see how. Or why you need me there."
I swallowed tightly. "Because Dragon is coming. She doesn't trust that I'm not mind controlled, and I don't blame her. If she gets there early while I'm talking and restrains me, I'll go back to the Heroes. And they can't guarantee that I won't go right back home to Carol. To her."
Skitter's entire body language changed. The moths and hornets and beetles covering her flew up and off her in one fluid wave, casting themselves away to reveal the chitin and silk beneath.
"Well. That changes things. You want me for, what, protection?"
I nodded.
"Mmm. What's the other reason though? If Dragon comes, it's still going to be difficult to get away even if I'm there. You might even have better odds alone – you're faster than I am. There must be something else."
I bit my lip, resisting the urge to glance at her swarm. I knew she'd see if I did. I knew – or at least suspected – by this point that she emoted through her bugs. But I didn't want to take my eyes away from hers. "I said earlier to not be terrorists, this is part of that. You show to the Heroes that you can talk without fighting. And I show them I'm not under your control."
There was a pause. Her yellow eyes glimmered. "I still don't buy it," she said. "There's something else. Something you're hiding." I could hear the suspicion in her tone, but in a weird way it almost reassured me. She could hide it under her emotionless facade if she wanted to. I could hear it in her voice because she was letting me.
And she was right. There was something else. But I was hoping not to have to spell it out plainly. But apparently she was getting as good at reading me as I was at reading her. I took a deep breath.
"Because I want you there."
Skitter tilted her head. Aside from that, she'd gone utterly still. Had I surprised her? The urge to look at the swarm was overwhelming, but I clamped down on the temptation, locking my eyes with hers, widening them a little. I knew she wasn't heartless. I was willing to put on a pleading look and tug at her sympathy if it got me her help here, even if it felt manipulative.
"I'm gonna be talking to the Heroes. People I know. They want me to come back to them, and while I have reasons not to, it's hard to remember that in the moment. I'm afraid I'll say yes because they ask, not because I want to. I want a reminder of why I left."
There it was. That was all I had for this selfish, stupid request. Because, for some godforsaken reason, I couldn't imagine doing this without Skitter at my side. And I wanted this badly enough that I was willing to accept that cost.
"You're that serious," Skitter said, her tone almost wondering.
I nodded.
"Alright."
I blinked. Was it that easy?
Skitter seemed to sense my confusion, and laughed softly. "Honestly, I'm always willing to throw down with the heroes. I'll be nice about it this time, sure, but you're telling me I have an opportunity to throw their double standards right back in their faces? I'll take it."
I… wouldn't put it quite like that. "You still can't fight them outright."
"Yes, I know that," Skitter said. I could hear the smirk in her voice, though I wasn't sure it was entirely friendly. "That doesn't mean I won't come."
She paused for a moment, and before I could interject she spoke again, her voice hard. "But we don't tell them first."
I blinked. Wait what? We'd just… let them find us? That meant we'd be surprising them in the open, and taking our chances on who found us. That defied the entire point of the exercise! We needed to be open to show Skitter could be reasoned with. "We need to tell them first though. The last time we ran into the Heroes by surprise it didn't go well."
"Yes, but in case you didn't notice we don't exactly have the element of surprise anymore," Skitter drawled. I tried to hide my mortification at the pointed edge of her words. "The phone may not have been your fault, but reaching out now would be. I know a standard patrol route, we'll take who we get. I won't start a fight, but I will finish it. Anything further is on them."
"But–"
"No," Skitter cut me off mid-word. "You want to meet the heroes, and against my better judgement I'm willing to try because it's important. But we do it on my terms, or not at all." Her words were iron, and fell with as much weight. I tried not to shudder at the finality of it.
"...Fine," I signed. I wasn't happy about this, and I didn't bother hiding it. But Skitter had already done far more for me than I could have asked, and we both knew it.
"And while we're at it, I want to take a few days to finish securing the base," she added belatedly. "I won't feel comfortable leaving my territory until I can trust things are finished between inventory and perimeter security."
I nodded absentmindedly. That much made sense. No, it was her first condition that worried me. It wasn't great, optics wise. Surprising the Heroes instead of reaching out meant they'd be on the defensive, and we might get someone like Assault who would ruin our chance before we started. But I could make it work so long as she didn't antagonize whoever we ran into too much. I might be able to make this work. Though… there was one last thing I could do to hedge our bets.
"What is it?" Skitter asked, apparently sensing unspoken thought. Her voice was sharp.
My hands shook as I brought them up to sign. "I want to wash out the dye from my hair."
Skitter stared at me. For the first time, I blushed. Holding her gaze earlier had been a plea to sway her. This felt more like I was the one being exposed. But I didn't look away. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. This was too important.
"Victoria," she said softly, "if this is about what Grue said earlier, you don't need to prove yourself. I know this isn't a set up–"
"It's not about that," I signed.
"Then what?"
I swallowed. I knew I had to do this right, if I was going to do it at all I wanted Skitter by my side for this, but I couldn't hide behind her. Physically or otherwise. I didn't stand behind all that Skitter did, but she was sticking her neck out for me. The least I could do was match that.
"If I'm with you, then I'm with you. No hiding."
Skitter didn't say anything, but I'd like to think she was smiling.
A/N:
Victoria is definitely trying. Skitter is too. Funny how that always seems to make it worse. A coincidence I'm sure. This time with the Heroes will definitely go better. Trust me. When have I ever used an opportunity to resolve a conflict to traumatize everyone more instead? Pics or it didn't happen.
Lots of set up here, but it's necessary for what comes later. A lot of the early parts of this story (I say at almost 100k words) is about managing the levels of dramatic irony. In other words, showing Victoria finding out things the audience already knows. We see that here with the ASL book, since we obviously know Skitter didn't know ASL prior to this fic. If Victoria were to think about it logically it shouldn't be a surprise – most people don't know – but it's less about that and more what it means. The journal technically worked. But it was slow and awkward for her. Skitter was willing to expend a significant amount of effort to make that process easier, and she didn't tell her she was doing it. That means a lot.
Today's rec is The Office Politics of Pantheons, by TheSleepingKnight. This is actually a newer fic, and has the honor of being the first DC fic (if only as a cross) that I was willing to read. Alexandria comes in contact with another Earth, and has a meeting with the Justice League on coordinating heroing. A really good case study on the differences in morality prioritization between the two groups. Plus it writes Alexandria as an internally complex compelling character. Give it some love.
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- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Ah, a cliffhanger! I really want to know who they bump into, at least.
- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Another great chapter. Love seeing this relationship really start to set sail!
This is such a terrifyingly real emotion. No wonder Taylor immediately starts taking the idea seriously afterwards.
Surrrrrrrre Coil, its just a funny little logistical problem. Definitely not putting pressure on your pet villain team cause you already caught wind of their imminent betrayal...
This is such a terrifyingly real emotion. No wonder Taylor immediately starts taking the idea seriously afterwards.
Surrrrrrrre Coil, its just a funny little logistical problem. Definitely not putting pressure on your pet villain team cause you already caught wind of their imminent betrayal...
Binary 3.8
Three days later, under a wet and dreary sky, I fingered the newly golden locks of my hair as I walked beside Skitter down towards the Bay. I'd had to wake up early to wash all the hair dye out; Skitter had wanted to conserve water. I wasn't about to get in the shower either, so I'd ended up washing most of it out in the sink. Coil's resupply hadn't shown up, something about logistical difficulties. Skitter was not happy, but there'd been nothing from Dragon either, so it wasn't all bad. She'd decided it was better to get this out of the way now before anything else had the chance to go wrong. I couldn't disagree.
I glanced up, seeing pale yellow in the fringe in the corner of my eye again. Some darker streaks remained, but for the most part I was blonde again.
It had been strange, seeing my true hair color again in the mirror for the first time. The girl staring back at me had seemed caught between two times. On the surface she looked like nothing had happened. Clear skin, long golden hair, short unpainted nails and all. But her eyes… they were harder. Her hands were clenched preemptively around the tassels of her hoodie, turning the slightly grubby fabric into a suit of armor against unwanted eyes. Her clothes were dark and baggy.
Her mouth was tight and shut.
"We're almost to the Boardwalk," Skitter said, drawing me out of my reverie. "How do you want to do this?"
I frowned, glancing at her. "Do what?" I signed, careful not to disturb the centipede in my hand. Skitter had wisely suggested using it as a replacement for the phone panic button for as long as Dragon remained a threat.
"Get the attention of the Protectorate?" Skitter said, as if explaining something obvious. "We can just walk around and hope they run into us, but that might take hours."
I frowned. "I could fly us?"
Skitter shook her head. "Too small of a target. I also don't like being in the air for that long."
I nodded. Skitter had considered taking us on her massive beetle Atlas, but decided against it on the matter of unneeded intimidation. Privately, I was glad of it. A beetle like that was only possible through biotinkering, and I wasn't really eager to ride on something that Amy had made. On principle, if nothing else.
"Can you make a giant arrow above us with your swarm?"
Skitter tilted her head, considering the idea. "I'd want to mask our actual location, but I can do that."
As she said that the majority of the swarm surrounding us took to the air, climbing to presumably form said arrow. The rest tightened into a much thicker wall, obscuring the outside.
I swallowed. "What if things go wrong?"
Skitter snorted. "Then we improvise."
I glared at her. "That's not a plan!"
She shrugged, and squared her shoulders. "Too late for that. I found them."
This was it. The Heroes were almost here.
Not even Skitter could calm the butterflies that filled my stomach. The last two encounters with Heroes we'd had - three, counting her terrorist attack on the mayor's home - had all been disasters. And though she was here for me as backup, I had no idea who I was about to be put face to face with. The swarm around us was still too thick for me to make anything out, so I looked up at her and cocked my head in a silent question.
"They're still about two minutes out, but they see us," she confirmed. "Looks like Miss Militia, along with someone I can't quite make out–ah, nevermind. It must be Ursa Aurora, I just caught one of her projections."
I swallowed, and tried to think back to when the PRT had briefed us on the new Heroes and Wards from New York. It felt like years ago now. If I remembered right, Ursa Aurora was a Master who could manifest ethereal bear projections. Well, mostly ethereal. Their claws and teeth were decidedly solid. I'd seen her summon two at once during sparring with Triumph, but that had been a friendly match. I had no idea what her upper limit was.
As far as matchups went, it could be worse. Miss Militia was by far the more dangerous of the two. Her power was incredibly strong at range, but could fight up close if needed. It adjusted based on her subconscious needs, and could be lethal or nonlethal as required. Her biggest issue was needing a clear line of sight. Her power didn't help her aim any better than her training allowed. Skitter's swarm blanketing our sightline would help with that. But if she broke out the grenades again, all bets would be off.
Ursa Aurora was a much more straightforward problem. Her projections were powerful, but landlocked. I wasn't, and Skitter worked best from range. If needed I could just fly Skitter up into the swarm and then land on a rooftop or something, leaving her to deal with the Master from cover.
My brain stuttered over that thought, and I paused. Dealing with Ursa Aurora from cover? Miss Militia breaking out the grenades? Matchups? Why was I thinking like this? These were Heroes, not my enemies! Nothing was going to happen! I had a tight grip on my aura, my forcefield was strong around me, and neither of us was going to start anything. We just wanted to talk.
Although that did remind me.
I snapped my fingers, drawing Skitter's attention.
"Yes?"
"How are we going to do this?" I asked.
She tilted her head. "You're going to have to be more specific."
I rolled my eyes. "Communicate. I don't have my notebook." It was almost startling to admit. I hadn't thought to grab it when I left. It hadn't been as necessary lately. Skitter had learned sign for me, which I was still reeling from, and she was generally willing to translate for me if she was around, and I didn't need to say much around the base most of the time, so at some point I'd just… stopped needing my notepad as much.
Up until now.
"If they don't know sign, I'll interpret," Skitter said. "Now stay sharp. Here they come."
I tensed. Sure enough, not ten seconds later, the swarm of beetles, wasps and flies parted around the two Heroes. Miss Militia was up first, her brow furrowed. Her signature green fatigues blended in surprisingly well with the swarming insects around us. The bugs were staying away from her face, avoiding her exposed eyes and the relatively meager protection the bandanna covering her lower face offered. I smiled and brushed an approving finger over the back of my centipede in my left hand. Skitter was being good, for now.
Miss Militia was frowning, but Ursa Aurora was even less comfortable around the swarm. She flinched every time a fly swerved away fromr her face. She wore a glossy half mask that looked remarkably like a polished version of the stock doggy mask that Bitch wore. Like Miss Militia, her mask didn't offer her face full coverage, stopping above her eyebrows but below her hairline. The rest of her costume looked practical, if not ostentatious. Subdued blues and purples came together in ballistic nylon to make something stylishly understated. A good choice of costume for a Master.
"Glory Girl! Skitter!" Miss Militia called over the high, buzzing whine of countless wings all around us. They were approaching cautiously, but Miss Militia's power was in pistol form, held loosely in one hand and pointed at the ground. Ursa Aurora's projections followed them in guard positions just behind and to either side of the capes, but made no move to attack.
A good sign. So far.
"Miss Militia, Ursa Aurora," Skitter returned neutrally as they got close enough to hear her. She didn't raise her voice, but the hum of the swarm quietened as she spoke and rose again when she'd said her piece. It was a simple trick, but an effective one. With a swarm this big, it felt like the whole world was silencing itself to listen to her every time she opened her mouth.
"What is the meaning of this?" Ursa Aurora demanded, shifting from foot to foot. "You're obviously trying to get someone's attention. Congratulations; you got it. Now what do you want? And why is Glory Girl here?"
"Victoria," Skitter emphasized, looking at me, "is here because she wanted to tell you something. I'm here as her interpreter."
"Interpreter?" "Just her interpreter?" Miss Militia and Ursa Aurora both spoke at once, their words overlapping in mutual suspicion. My fists clenched; one tight, one carefully loose around my centipede. I couldn't blame them for not trusting Skitter, even if I thought better of her, but people assuming I was just being taken advantage of by the Undersiders was starting to get really, really old.
"Victoria is still mute," Skitter said. "She signs in ASL. I assume neither of you know enough to carry on a conversation, so I'll verbalize what she tells me." She turned to Ursa Aurora. "She asked me here to interpret. If I have to do more than that, it's on you."
One of Ursa Aurora's bears growled and took a step forward, but Miss Militia put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Easy," she warned. "So long as they're here to talk, we're here to listen."
She turned to me. "Victoria. I'm glad to see you're okay. I know our last meeting… didn't exactly go to plan."
I winced.
She seemed to notice judging by her crinkling eyes. "Yes, I don't think that was the best day for any of us. Are we… going to have similar problems this time?"
I shook my head. No. I had a handle on my aura. Deep breaths. It was okay. Skitter was here, and I had my centipede if I needed her.
"That's good to hear. So, what did you want to talk to us about, Victoria?"
I swallowed, and looked her in the eyes. "My mother has Amy."
There was a small moment of silence after Skitter translated, the words hanging in the air, before Miss Militia hung her head.
"Fuck."
Instantly the bugs writhed around us, the walls constricting and buzzing. "You knew, then." Skitter said, her tone devoid of inflection but echoed by a hundred thousand hissing voices.
"We suspected," Miss Militia said. "But we didn't have proof, no."
"And yet you did nothing. Even when you knew what she did."
"Am I missing something here?" Ursa Aurora asked.
"What you're missing is that Miss Militia and the rest of the Protectorate here are harboring a known rapist," Skitter said, chitin and anger backing her words with an angry chorus of nightmares. I flinched at the reminder, and a small head rubbed itself gently against my palm, a lone shard of tenderness among the jagged spikes of Skitter's hostility.
"That's... a hell of a claim," Ursa Aurora said, taken aback. "Militia? Care to explain?"
"It's… complicated," Miss Militia said. The words sounded forced, and the pause was telling.
Skitter's laugh was short, mocking and entirely humorless. "It always seems to be that way when it comes to me," she said, and I could hear the twisted smile in the words; an adrenaline snarl of aggression. I pressed a cautionary thumb against my centipede's shell, silently willing her to dial it back.
"Skitter–" Ursa Aurora started, before Miss Militia cut her off.
"It's not that simple," she said, looking back up at us. "You told us what happened, what Amy did to you. And you're right; we haven't acted on that yet. Yes, there are a lot of moving pieces, but that doesn't help you right now. I'm sorry we haven't done more, Victoria."
The air left my chest like a punch to the gut. For a moment I honestly thought the wind had been knocked out of me; I wouldn't have been able to speak even if my voice had been working. The protective whine of the swarm pressed in from every side, but it wasn't half as long as the drumbeat of my heart in my ears.
Was that it? Was that all I got? All my suffering amounted to?
Skitter obviously felt the same way. "Sorry doesn't cut it when she's still afraid to go back to her family," she snapped. "When her abuser is still out there and you've done nothing to protect her."
"What would you have us do, Skitter?" Miss Militia demanded. "Panacea isn't a Protectorate hero; she isn't even a Ward! More than that; Brandish might've told you that she has Amy, but no one has seen her for at least a month. We can't just break down the door to a hero's house on suspicion alone."
"So you'd leave one of your own in the cold, just because you're afraid of doing something wrong? That's–"
I smacked my hands together, the clap startling both of them and cutting Skitter off mid-sentence. I couldn't let this conversation continue like this, sidelining me in favour of personal grudges.To her credit, Skitter didn't try to continue her tirade. She turned to see what I had to say, still ready to go to bat for me against the Protectorate.
I appreciated what she was trying to do here, even if she was going about it wrong. But I needed to do this myself. From the way she nodded and took a step back, I was pretty sure she understood.
"Victoria?" Ursa Aurora asked softly. "What is it?"
I took a deep breath, and signed, listening to Skitter's deliberately neutral voice repeating my words. "I know that justice is a long and slow thing when it's done right. And I respect that. But as selfish as it is, my needs have to come first for me. If you can't promise that you'll act against Amy, to–" I choked on the lump in my throat, and Skitter paused as my hands spasmed, but I pushed through and kept going. "If you can't promise to put her somewhere she can't hurt me again, I can't go with you. No matter how much I might want to."
"Victoria…" Miss Militia seemed at a loss for what to say.
"Skitter," I stumbled on the word, "saved me when she didn't have to. She made my sister fix me, and then made her leave. She didn't have a reason to. There was no reward in it for her. She just did. If you want to think that's Mastering or something else, fine. I can't really prove otherwise without a field psychologist. But the Protectorate can't guarantee right now that I could protect myself. Skitter can."
A tiny wry smile touched my lips at Skitter's surprise. I was the only one who noticed it. It wasn't in her voice as she translated for me, or her posture as she stared down the Heroes. It was the split-second shift in the whining choir of the swarm's encircling walls, the way my centipede froze on my wrist for a moment before curling tighter around it. The way a cluster of moths brushed against me as they passed, as if making sure I was really there.
Was she really so unaccustomed to simple gratitude?
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Miss Militia said at length. "I can't… entirely blame you for that."
"Ma'am!" Ursa Aurora exclaimed. She stepped closer to Miss Militia, lowering her voice, but if it was to keep me from overhearing she must have thought I was deaf as well as mute. I heard every word. "Ma'am, you can't just cede to their narrative like this! We at least need to get this verified before we–"
"There will be a time and a place for that," Miss Militia replied, not looking away from us. My centipede scuttled onto the back of my hand and reared up, hissing at Ursa Aurora. "And I agree that has to be done, one way or another. But we're not the ones to do it, right now. All I really want to know is one thing."
I swallowed.
Miss Militia's fists were clenched, but her eyes were clear. "Is she keeping you safe?"
Skitter stiffened beside me, but I didn't hesitate. "Yes," I croaked.
The bandana over her lower face hid her mouth, but the crease of her eyes painted a fragile smile. "Good. That's… that's good. I'm sorry we couldn't be there for you when you needed it. Will you at least let us arrange for a field screening so we can be sure? It doesn't have to be now but… it would reassure me that I'm doing the right thing by letting you go back with her, if nothing else."
I looked back at Skitter. She nodded, and my centipede scuttled back around my hand, tapping its head twice against the inside of my thumb. I turned back to the Heroes. "That's fine."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Be careful."
Ursa Aurora looked back between us and Miss Militia. "I don't know exactly what's going on here, but I know hurt when I see it. Victoria… please be careful, alright? For your own sake."
I nodded. I hadn't interacted much with her before the Crawler incident and all that followed, but it was touching that she'd be worried about me at all.
I softly squeezed my centipede nestled in my palm as the swarm split around the two departing Heroes.
"Well," Skitter remarked, staring after them. "That went better than I expected."
I turned to her. "And what exactly did you think would happen?"
She shrugged. "Any time I come away from a close encounter with heroes without explosions or stabbing, I count it as a win."
Suddenly, I was laughing. I couldn't stop. The stress, the anxiety, the frustration and nerves and everything else that had been building up for the past week, all of it was just flooding out of me. I didn't know exactly when my laughter turned into sobbing, but I knew I felt Skitter's hand on my back.
"So that was a different name that you used back there," Skitter said a while later, as we were starting to walk back.
I turned to look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
She stopped, and looked at me. "My name. In sign you usually finger spell it, one letter at a time. But instead you did this." She made the sign for 'S', followed by clenching her fists and crossing her arms over her chest. The sign for 'Protect'.
I felt the blush rise like the sun. Fuck. I really had done that, hadn't I? In the ASL community, people usually had two names. Or so I had read in the book Skitter had given me. One was what I'd been using up to this point: finger spelling. But for people you knew better, there was another category called a descriptive name. The person signing always chose it, usually based on some aspect of the person in question. Sign names were always given, never chosen.
"I didn't even realize at the time what it was," Skitter said, still talking. "I only filled it in from context. I thought it was just a mistake from saying 'protect' beforehand–"
She paused, looking back at me. "–but maybe not. Victoria?"
I swallowed and looked up. "It's your name."
"My name?" Skitter asked.
I nodded.
"Why?" she signed at me.
I couldn't breathe. "Because it's what you did when you woke me up in that bathtub. What you've done ever since. It's the only thing I could think of."
She tilted her head, unmoving. "You really mean that, don't you?"
My fingers felt like they were on fire, but I forced myself through anyways. "I really do."
There was a moment, as we stared at each other, where the air was filled with… something. Something so fragile I was afraid to even name it. But before I could say anything, Skitter froze. The swarm clenched around us, drawing in close. I was blind in a sea of chitin and wings, forced to close my mouth for fear of something flying into it.
"Skitter–" I signed blindly, trusting she could see my hands even if I couldn't.
"Listen," a million clicks and chirrups hissed.
"The swarm, too loud, I can't."
She grunted, closer than she'd been when the swarm pressed in, and for a moment the bugs around us calmed, gliding away on the muggy June air to give us a little clear oasis at the heart of a writhing cloud. And in that instant, I heard what she did. A distant, high pitched shriek.
I knew that sound. The last time I'd heard it, I'd been drenched and desperate in the pouring rain, staring down at the monster that had come to kill my city. It was the sound of advanced engines and exotic weaponry, of metal monsters bristling with weapons. It was the sound of a thousand criminal careers cut short and an inescapable prison.
It was the sound of Dragon.
A/N:
I love this chapter. So much. I could go on about the clashing of worldview, the delicate negotiations of power, how fragile the temporary peace they've gotten is. But that name sign scene has my entire heart, and I refuse to apologize for that. I'm a simple woman.
So. Dragon. I'm sure that won't end terribly. Because everything has gone swimmingly well so far. Don't worry, you guys trust me by this point right? Right?
Today's rec is On Feathered Wings, We Fly by Sylnarri. There are vanishingly few stories in this fandom with a trans female character, and this one is willing to engage with that conflict for longer than "Amy touch her and she gets better". Plus it's punchbuggy. You know I had to rec it. It's got a lot of content already, updates frequently, and deserves more love than it gets.
I glanced up, seeing pale yellow in the fringe in the corner of my eye again. Some darker streaks remained, but for the most part I was blonde again.
It had been strange, seeing my true hair color again in the mirror for the first time. The girl staring back at me had seemed caught between two times. On the surface she looked like nothing had happened. Clear skin, long golden hair, short unpainted nails and all. But her eyes… they were harder. Her hands were clenched preemptively around the tassels of her hoodie, turning the slightly grubby fabric into a suit of armor against unwanted eyes. Her clothes were dark and baggy.
Her mouth was tight and shut.
"We're almost to the Boardwalk," Skitter said, drawing me out of my reverie. "How do you want to do this?"
I frowned, glancing at her. "Do what?" I signed, careful not to disturb the centipede in my hand. Skitter had wisely suggested using it as a replacement for the phone panic button for as long as Dragon remained a threat.
"Get the attention of the Protectorate?" Skitter said, as if explaining something obvious. "We can just walk around and hope they run into us, but that might take hours."
I frowned. "I could fly us?"
Skitter shook her head. "Too small of a target. I also don't like being in the air for that long."
I nodded. Skitter had considered taking us on her massive beetle Atlas, but decided against it on the matter of unneeded intimidation. Privately, I was glad of it. A beetle like that was only possible through biotinkering, and I wasn't really eager to ride on something that Amy had made. On principle, if nothing else.
"Can you make a giant arrow above us with your swarm?"
Skitter tilted her head, considering the idea. "I'd want to mask our actual location, but I can do that."
As she said that the majority of the swarm surrounding us took to the air, climbing to presumably form said arrow. The rest tightened into a much thicker wall, obscuring the outside.
I swallowed. "What if things go wrong?"
Skitter snorted. "Then we improvise."
I glared at her. "That's not a plan!"
She shrugged, and squared her shoulders. "Too late for that. I found them."
This was it. The Heroes were almost here.
Not even Skitter could calm the butterflies that filled my stomach. The last two encounters with Heroes we'd had - three, counting her terrorist attack on the mayor's home - had all been disasters. And though she was here for me as backup, I had no idea who I was about to be put face to face with. The swarm around us was still too thick for me to make anything out, so I looked up at her and cocked my head in a silent question.
"They're still about two minutes out, but they see us," she confirmed. "Looks like Miss Militia, along with someone I can't quite make out–ah, nevermind. It must be Ursa Aurora, I just caught one of her projections."
I swallowed, and tried to think back to when the PRT had briefed us on the new Heroes and Wards from New York. It felt like years ago now. If I remembered right, Ursa Aurora was a Master who could manifest ethereal bear projections. Well, mostly ethereal. Their claws and teeth were decidedly solid. I'd seen her summon two at once during sparring with Triumph, but that had been a friendly match. I had no idea what her upper limit was.
As far as matchups went, it could be worse. Miss Militia was by far the more dangerous of the two. Her power was incredibly strong at range, but could fight up close if needed. It adjusted based on her subconscious needs, and could be lethal or nonlethal as required. Her biggest issue was needing a clear line of sight. Her power didn't help her aim any better than her training allowed. Skitter's swarm blanketing our sightline would help with that. But if she broke out the grenades again, all bets would be off.
Ursa Aurora was a much more straightforward problem. Her projections were powerful, but landlocked. I wasn't, and Skitter worked best from range. If needed I could just fly Skitter up into the swarm and then land on a rooftop or something, leaving her to deal with the Master from cover.
My brain stuttered over that thought, and I paused. Dealing with Ursa Aurora from cover? Miss Militia breaking out the grenades? Matchups? Why was I thinking like this? These were Heroes, not my enemies! Nothing was going to happen! I had a tight grip on my aura, my forcefield was strong around me, and neither of us was going to start anything. We just wanted to talk.
Although that did remind me.
I snapped my fingers, drawing Skitter's attention.
"Yes?"
"How are we going to do this?" I asked.
She tilted her head. "You're going to have to be more specific."
I rolled my eyes. "Communicate. I don't have my notebook." It was almost startling to admit. I hadn't thought to grab it when I left. It hadn't been as necessary lately. Skitter had learned sign for me, which I was still reeling from, and she was generally willing to translate for me if she was around, and I didn't need to say much around the base most of the time, so at some point I'd just… stopped needing my notepad as much.
Up until now.
"If they don't know sign, I'll interpret," Skitter said. "Now stay sharp. Here they come."
I tensed. Sure enough, not ten seconds later, the swarm of beetles, wasps and flies parted around the two Heroes. Miss Militia was up first, her brow furrowed. Her signature green fatigues blended in surprisingly well with the swarming insects around us. The bugs were staying away from her face, avoiding her exposed eyes and the relatively meager protection the bandanna covering her lower face offered. I smiled and brushed an approving finger over the back of my centipede in my left hand. Skitter was being good, for now.
Miss Militia was frowning, but Ursa Aurora was even less comfortable around the swarm. She flinched every time a fly swerved away fromr her face. She wore a glossy half mask that looked remarkably like a polished version of the stock doggy mask that Bitch wore. Like Miss Militia, her mask didn't offer her face full coverage, stopping above her eyebrows but below her hairline. The rest of her costume looked practical, if not ostentatious. Subdued blues and purples came together in ballistic nylon to make something stylishly understated. A good choice of costume for a Master.
"Glory Girl! Skitter!" Miss Militia called over the high, buzzing whine of countless wings all around us. They were approaching cautiously, but Miss Militia's power was in pistol form, held loosely in one hand and pointed at the ground. Ursa Aurora's projections followed them in guard positions just behind and to either side of the capes, but made no move to attack.
A good sign. So far.
"Miss Militia, Ursa Aurora," Skitter returned neutrally as they got close enough to hear her. She didn't raise her voice, but the hum of the swarm quietened as she spoke and rose again when she'd said her piece. It was a simple trick, but an effective one. With a swarm this big, it felt like the whole world was silencing itself to listen to her every time she opened her mouth.
"What is the meaning of this?" Ursa Aurora demanded, shifting from foot to foot. "You're obviously trying to get someone's attention. Congratulations; you got it. Now what do you want? And why is Glory Girl here?"
"Victoria," Skitter emphasized, looking at me, "is here because she wanted to tell you something. I'm here as her interpreter."
"Interpreter?" "Just her interpreter?" Miss Militia and Ursa Aurora both spoke at once, their words overlapping in mutual suspicion. My fists clenched; one tight, one carefully loose around my centipede. I couldn't blame them for not trusting Skitter, even if I thought better of her, but people assuming I was just being taken advantage of by the Undersiders was starting to get really, really old.
"Victoria is still mute," Skitter said. "She signs in ASL. I assume neither of you know enough to carry on a conversation, so I'll verbalize what she tells me." She turned to Ursa Aurora. "She asked me here to interpret. If I have to do more than that, it's on you."
One of Ursa Aurora's bears growled and took a step forward, but Miss Militia put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Easy," she warned. "So long as they're here to talk, we're here to listen."
She turned to me. "Victoria. I'm glad to see you're okay. I know our last meeting… didn't exactly go to plan."
I winced.
She seemed to notice judging by her crinkling eyes. "Yes, I don't think that was the best day for any of us. Are we… going to have similar problems this time?"
I shook my head. No. I had a handle on my aura. Deep breaths. It was okay. Skitter was here, and I had my centipede if I needed her.
"That's good to hear. So, what did you want to talk to us about, Victoria?"
I swallowed, and looked her in the eyes. "My mother has Amy."
There was a small moment of silence after Skitter translated, the words hanging in the air, before Miss Militia hung her head.
"Fuck."
Instantly the bugs writhed around us, the walls constricting and buzzing. "You knew, then." Skitter said, her tone devoid of inflection but echoed by a hundred thousand hissing voices.
"We suspected," Miss Militia said. "But we didn't have proof, no."
"And yet you did nothing. Even when you knew what she did."
"Am I missing something here?" Ursa Aurora asked.
"What you're missing is that Miss Militia and the rest of the Protectorate here are harboring a known rapist," Skitter said, chitin and anger backing her words with an angry chorus of nightmares. I flinched at the reminder, and a small head rubbed itself gently against my palm, a lone shard of tenderness among the jagged spikes of Skitter's hostility.
"That's... a hell of a claim," Ursa Aurora said, taken aback. "Militia? Care to explain?"
"It's… complicated," Miss Militia said. The words sounded forced, and the pause was telling.
Skitter's laugh was short, mocking and entirely humorless. "It always seems to be that way when it comes to me," she said, and I could hear the twisted smile in the words; an adrenaline snarl of aggression. I pressed a cautionary thumb against my centipede's shell, silently willing her to dial it back.
"Skitter–" Ursa Aurora started, before Miss Militia cut her off.
"It's not that simple," she said, looking back up at us. "You told us what happened, what Amy did to you. And you're right; we haven't acted on that yet. Yes, there are a lot of moving pieces, but that doesn't help you right now. I'm sorry we haven't done more, Victoria."
The air left my chest like a punch to the gut. For a moment I honestly thought the wind had been knocked out of me; I wouldn't have been able to speak even if my voice had been working. The protective whine of the swarm pressed in from every side, but it wasn't half as long as the drumbeat of my heart in my ears.
Was that it? Was that all I got? All my suffering amounted to?
Skitter obviously felt the same way. "Sorry doesn't cut it when she's still afraid to go back to her family," she snapped. "When her abuser is still out there and you've done nothing to protect her."
"What would you have us do, Skitter?" Miss Militia demanded. "Panacea isn't a Protectorate hero; she isn't even a Ward! More than that; Brandish might've told you that she has Amy, but no one has seen her for at least a month. We can't just break down the door to a hero's house on suspicion alone."
"So you'd leave one of your own in the cold, just because you're afraid of doing something wrong? That's–"
I smacked my hands together, the clap startling both of them and cutting Skitter off mid-sentence. I couldn't let this conversation continue like this, sidelining me in favour of personal grudges.To her credit, Skitter didn't try to continue her tirade. She turned to see what I had to say, still ready to go to bat for me against the Protectorate.
I appreciated what she was trying to do here, even if she was going about it wrong. But I needed to do this myself. From the way she nodded and took a step back, I was pretty sure she understood.
"Victoria?" Ursa Aurora asked softly. "What is it?"
I took a deep breath, and signed, listening to Skitter's deliberately neutral voice repeating my words. "I know that justice is a long and slow thing when it's done right. And I respect that. But as selfish as it is, my needs have to come first for me. If you can't promise that you'll act against Amy, to–" I choked on the lump in my throat, and Skitter paused as my hands spasmed, but I pushed through and kept going. "If you can't promise to put her somewhere she can't hurt me again, I can't go with you. No matter how much I might want to."
"Victoria…" Miss Militia seemed at a loss for what to say.
"Skitter," I stumbled on the word, "saved me when she didn't have to. She made my sister fix me, and then made her leave. She didn't have a reason to. There was no reward in it for her. She just did. If you want to think that's Mastering or something else, fine. I can't really prove otherwise without a field psychologist. But the Protectorate can't guarantee right now that I could protect myself. Skitter can."
A tiny wry smile touched my lips at Skitter's surprise. I was the only one who noticed it. It wasn't in her voice as she translated for me, or her posture as she stared down the Heroes. It was the split-second shift in the whining choir of the swarm's encircling walls, the way my centipede froze on my wrist for a moment before curling tighter around it. The way a cluster of moths brushed against me as they passed, as if making sure I was really there.
Was she really so unaccustomed to simple gratitude?
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Miss Militia said at length. "I can't… entirely blame you for that."
"Ma'am!" Ursa Aurora exclaimed. She stepped closer to Miss Militia, lowering her voice, but if it was to keep me from overhearing she must have thought I was deaf as well as mute. I heard every word. "Ma'am, you can't just cede to their narrative like this! We at least need to get this verified before we–"
"There will be a time and a place for that," Miss Militia replied, not looking away from us. My centipede scuttled onto the back of my hand and reared up, hissing at Ursa Aurora. "And I agree that has to be done, one way or another. But we're not the ones to do it, right now. All I really want to know is one thing."
I swallowed.
Miss Militia's fists were clenched, but her eyes were clear. "Is she keeping you safe?"
Skitter stiffened beside me, but I didn't hesitate. "Yes," I croaked.
The bandana over her lower face hid her mouth, but the crease of her eyes painted a fragile smile. "Good. That's… that's good. I'm sorry we couldn't be there for you when you needed it. Will you at least let us arrange for a field screening so we can be sure? It doesn't have to be now but… it would reassure me that I'm doing the right thing by letting you go back with her, if nothing else."
I looked back at Skitter. She nodded, and my centipede scuttled back around my hand, tapping its head twice against the inside of my thumb. I turned back to the Heroes. "That's fine."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Be careful."
Ursa Aurora looked back between us and Miss Militia. "I don't know exactly what's going on here, but I know hurt when I see it. Victoria… please be careful, alright? For your own sake."
I nodded. I hadn't interacted much with her before the Crawler incident and all that followed, but it was touching that she'd be worried about me at all.
I softly squeezed my centipede nestled in my palm as the swarm split around the two departing Heroes.
"Well," Skitter remarked, staring after them. "That went better than I expected."
I turned to her. "And what exactly did you think would happen?"
She shrugged. "Any time I come away from a close encounter with heroes without explosions or stabbing, I count it as a win."
Suddenly, I was laughing. I couldn't stop. The stress, the anxiety, the frustration and nerves and everything else that had been building up for the past week, all of it was just flooding out of me. I didn't know exactly when my laughter turned into sobbing, but I knew I felt Skitter's hand on my back.
"So that was a different name that you used back there," Skitter said a while later, as we were starting to walk back.
I turned to look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
She stopped, and looked at me. "My name. In sign you usually finger spell it, one letter at a time. But instead you did this." She made the sign for 'S', followed by clenching her fists and crossing her arms over her chest. The sign for 'Protect'.
I felt the blush rise like the sun. Fuck. I really had done that, hadn't I? In the ASL community, people usually had two names. Or so I had read in the book Skitter had given me. One was what I'd been using up to this point: finger spelling. But for people you knew better, there was another category called a descriptive name. The person signing always chose it, usually based on some aspect of the person in question. Sign names were always given, never chosen.
"I didn't even realize at the time what it was," Skitter said, still talking. "I only filled it in from context. I thought it was just a mistake from saying 'protect' beforehand–"
She paused, looking back at me. "–but maybe not. Victoria?"
I swallowed and looked up. "It's your name."
"My name?" Skitter asked.
I nodded.
"Why?" she signed at me.
I couldn't breathe. "Because it's what you did when you woke me up in that bathtub. What you've done ever since. It's the only thing I could think of."
She tilted her head, unmoving. "You really mean that, don't you?"
My fingers felt like they were on fire, but I forced myself through anyways. "I really do."
There was a moment, as we stared at each other, where the air was filled with… something. Something so fragile I was afraid to even name it. But before I could say anything, Skitter froze. The swarm clenched around us, drawing in close. I was blind in a sea of chitin and wings, forced to close my mouth for fear of something flying into it.
"Skitter–" I signed blindly, trusting she could see my hands even if I couldn't.
"Listen," a million clicks and chirrups hissed.
"The swarm, too loud, I can't."
She grunted, closer than she'd been when the swarm pressed in, and for a moment the bugs around us calmed, gliding away on the muggy June air to give us a little clear oasis at the heart of a writhing cloud. And in that instant, I heard what she did. A distant, high pitched shriek.
I knew that sound. The last time I'd heard it, I'd been drenched and desperate in the pouring rain, staring down at the monster that had come to kill my city. It was the sound of advanced engines and exotic weaponry, of metal monsters bristling with weapons. It was the sound of a thousand criminal careers cut short and an inescapable prison.
It was the sound of Dragon.
A/N:
I love this chapter. So much. I could go on about the clashing of worldview, the delicate negotiations of power, how fragile the temporary peace they've gotten is. But that name sign scene has my entire heart, and I refuse to apologize for that. I'm a simple woman.
So. Dragon. I'm sure that won't end terribly. Because everything has gone swimmingly well so far. Don't worry, you guys trust me by this point right? Right?
Today's rec is On Feathered Wings, We Fly by Sylnarri. There are vanishingly few stories in this fandom with a trans female character, and this one is willing to engage with that conflict for longer than "Amy touch her and she gets better". Plus it's punchbuggy. You know I had to rec it. It's got a lot of content already, updates frequently, and deserves more love than it gets.
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Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
I mean, yeah it is actually complicated and not as simple as Victoria or Taylor would like.
Brockton Bay is still a disaster zone, twice over now from both Leviathan and the Nine, and they are still undermanned. They have to patrol the city, protect the refugees, fight off the Chosen, fight all the other villains and criminals, protect the supply convoys moving in and out, and I'm sure more. Taking people off of any of those jobs to hunt down Amy, an accused rapist by a suspect source, possibly infringing on another semi-active hero group in city, is risky in a lot of ways.
Speaking of which, if the rest of New Wave is active in Brockton, then upsetting them might risk their much needed help to stop. What if Carol breaks her arm fighting off Hookwolf during a raid on incoming supplies and the next day she's all fixed up, actively patrolling and protecting people? It's not hard to deduce that Amy fixed her arm, but is it worth it from the eye's of the overworked PRT to risk alienating New Wave?
To them, it's just triage. Focus on the biggest problems in front of you that you can do something about, don't worry as much about the small things. Of course, what's small for the PRT and Protectorate certainly isn't for Victoria and Taylor.
IndigoPhoenix
Devourer of Citrus
- Location
- Everywehere
It's a real good feeling when you get name-sign, gives a lot of gut-fuzzies, and I loved how you worked skitter getting one in. Ugh, the feels.
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