11
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 11
Hello there, readers. Today, you'll accompany me on one of my "behind the scenes" adventures. I don't want to show off too much, but if you're still here after some of the other things I've told you, you're most likely trustworthy. The statute of limitations has probably expired on the more exciting bits, anyways.
Oh, and if you get any funny ideas, know that I've been watching you, too.
TINK TINK.
That's the sound of me tapping on the boundary between us. I see you, naughty readers!
Just kidding. Haha. But you really should be careful what you say on the Internet. Especially about my friends.
Hmm, what's that? Oh, you can say whatever you like about me. I won't get upset. Promise.
At the moment, I was working on the case of Mister Randall "Randy" Pierce. Emma and I had an unspoken agreement. She wouldn't inquire too deeply about what I did to keep her safe, and I would try to maintain a certain measure of subtlety and restraint. However, she had made an explicit request this time. How exciting. And with carte blanche, too. No admonishments to "be careful" or "try not to traumatize anyone." Just, "I want him gone."
A whole universe of possibilities awaited.
I couldn't go too crazy. I planned on having Sophia accompany me on this mission, so I'd need to feel things out first. I knew that she chafed against authority and oversight, but it was time to see just how much she was willing to bend the rules. If it went well, maybe we could go on little crime dates. The spice of the forbidden, as it were.
To be clear, I didn't usually commit crimes for recreational purposes. It just so happened that breaking the rules was sometimes the best way to pursue my objectives. Life is too short to let other people's concepts of propriety govern everything you do.
The information gathering phase was dull, so let's go into analysis.
Randy was a boring boy. He was crass and said prejudiced things, but he was too much of a coward to truly get involved with the Empire. That was saying something, since Neo-Nazis were not typically known for their courage and strength of character. However, Randy had superficial charm and his parents were somewhat wealthy, so a few of the more serious gang members let him linger in their orbit.
The most pressing issue, of course, was the threat he posed. After some digging, I determined that he was more bark than bite. While he was technically acquainted with some unpleasant characters, it was doubtful that he had the kind of pull necessary to cause Madison any real trouble. Regardless, he had made a threat, and I always took threats seriously. Even if all he did was to convince people to call Madison mean names, I would still be obliged to make an example of them all.
Rats should know to stay in their holes.
I had a plethora of ideas, some of them inspired by the inestimably devious Commander Calvert. He taught me to look at things from a broader perspective, to consider human relationships at multiple levels of scale and complexity. Where could you use the structure of an organization to your advantage? Where were the human flaws inherent in every human system?
I still had a ways to go before I reached Commander Calvert's level of vision, but for now I had a few serviceable plans. It was time to present them to Sophia.
Wish me luck!
<~@~>
Sophia sighed as she accepted the customary towel and water bottle that Hebert gave her after every practice. She couldn't help but be wary of the kind gesture, the same way she was suspicious of all the "nice" things Hebert did for her. Hebert had no reason to be so pleasant, given how Sophia had treated her.
Things had gotten out of hand, Sophia had to admit. At first, Sophia had just wanted to test Hebert. Sophia's gut told her there was something off about the other girl, and she wanted to know what it was. So she pushed, and pushed, but Hebert refused to react. No anger, no hurt, no resentment. Not even an attempt to ignore Sophia's actions. Just bland amusement.
That pissed Sophia off, to a probably excessive degree. She had developed an obsession with forcing Hebert to take her seriously, to provoke her into doing something other than giving a polite smile that seemed to ask "oh, is that all?"
As Sophia's attacks escalated, her justifications grew thinner, to the point that Sophia had to ask herself what she was doing. Hebert had an uncanny way of getting under Sophia's skin, but was it really okay to shove someone to the ground just because they looked sort of smug? Looking at it objectively made Sophia feel like one of those shit-bags who claimed their victims were "asking for it." Besides, Emma clearly didn't intend on ditching Hebert, so what was the point anymore? To soothe Sophia's ego? Was she so insecure that she needed to make some random girl cry in order to feel good about herself?
Then Hebert triggered, snuffing out the last of Sophia's obsession. Only the shittiest of parahumans would consider bullying a fresh trigger, and trying to intimidate a high-tier Brute was empty posturing at best. Now, Sophia and Hebert co-existed in relative peace.
It helped that Hebert had mellowed out somewhat. She was still a pain in the ass from time to time, but Sophia no longer felt that her blood pressure was in danger. Now it was just sort of like having a dog that had decided to follow her around. A goofy, stubborn dog that desperately wanted Sophia's attention for whatever reason.
In a dusty corner of Sophia's mind, a vague notion coalesced.
Does she have a crush on me?
Sophia's pulse raced. It was a terrifying thought, and completely ridiculous on the surface. Their relationship, if it could be called that, was made up almost entirely of provocations and insults. Real life didn't run on romance novel logic. Bitter enemies rarely turned to lovers.
But does she think of you as her enemy? A small voice asked. Sophia rummaged through her memories for a single instance where Hebert had lashed out at her.
Never.
No, come on. I was pushing her into walls and tripping her and shit. She had to have gotten annoyed, at least.
Sophia thought harder.
Hebert smiled as Sophia grabbed her by the collar.
Hebert blushed as Sophia pinned her against a wall. No, that had to be her face getting red in anger, right?
Silence.
Oh, Jesus. No fucking way. This isn't kindergarten where you pull on a girl's pigtails to try and get her to notice you. She can't have misunderstood me that badly, right?
And yet, everything made a sick kind of sense under that assumption.
Hebert situated herself next to Sophia on the bleachers. "Good work out there today," Hebert said. Sophia eyed her sideways. "What? Is there something on my face?" Hebert asked.
"No. It's nothing." There's no way. We've been hanging out practically every day for months now and she's never shown any interest in me that way.
"Okay. Um, are you free this weekend?"
Oh shit, oh shit. "Why?" Sophia asked.
Hebert twiddled her thumbs. "Well, I have a… project I'm working on, and I was wondering if you might want to join me."
"Spit it out. What kind of project?"
Hebert blushed. Why are you blushing, you bitch? "Um, do you know Randy Pierce?"
Okay, I officially have no idea where this conversation is going. Sophia considered Hebert's question for a moment. "Not really. Slimy little fucker. Hangs out with the Hitler Youth crowd." She scowled as she scrutinized Hebert's bashful face. "Don't tell me you want to ask him out." Why did I ask that?
"No!" Hebert reached out to grab Sophia's shoulders. "I would never." Sophia froze in Hebert's powerful grip and Hebert paused, carefully releasing her. Damn super strength. "Sorry. But that's… absolutely not the case. He's… not my type. At all."
"I see," Sophia said, managing to keep her tone even.
Hebert took a deep breath. "So yeah. It's not that. He bothered Madison, so I'm thinking he needs to take an extended leave of absence, so to speak."
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "You mean—?" She drew a finger across her neck illustratively.
Hebert laughed. "Don't be silly," she said, gently slapping Sophia's shoulder. Hebert's face went abruptly flat. "But he does need to be taken off the board. I have some ideas, but we could brainstorm together."
Sophia took a long drink from her water bottle, then she waved a hand. "Hold up. You said he bothered Madison? What does that mean?"
Hebert shrugged. "He threatened her. I'm not sure of the specifics."
Sophia whistled. "Dumb motherfucker." She was almost impressed. Anyone with half a brain had already gotten the message that their friend group was not to be fucked with. If Randy — and wasn't that a goofy-ass name — thought that his Empire buddies would keep him safe, he was hilariously mistaken.
"It does speak to a certain lack of survival instinct, doesn't it?" Hebert said with a half-smile.
"So what are you thinking?" They had to send a message somehow, but Sophia was curious how far Hebert was willing to go.
"Does that mean you want to join me?" Hebert asked, her face weirdly hopeful. Why does she have to make everything weird?
"Let's hear your plan first."
"Right, of course." Hebert pulled a folder out of her backpack. "Here's his dossier, along with his known associates."
Sophia took the folder, flipping through it. She snorted. "You're nuts. Why did you do this much research? This guy's a chicken-shit; we could probably rough him up and he'd never even look at Madison again."
Hebert raised a finger. "I admit that it might be satisfying to go that route, but I have some more permanent solutions in mind. I've put the outline for my top three ideas on page twenty."
Sophia rolled her eyes and turned the page.
What the hell?
<~@~>
It seemed that I had miscalculated. Sophia was fine with most forms of physical violence, but was oddly squeamish about more indirect methods. She actually gave me a lecture, which was a delightful new experience. I was aware of punishment play as a concept, of course, but I had never had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand. A bully might say that I "deserved" my treatment at their hands, or that I "didn't know my place," but those were shallow rationalizations. For example, Sophia had initially targeted me because in her eyes I was a "loser" and a "freak," unworthy to stand by Emma's side. I'd classify those more as emotional value judgments, rather than ethical ones.
In this instance, however, Sophia was verbally disciplining me for an abstract moral reason. Did that even count as bullying? Perhaps not by the strictest definition of the term. However, I still enjoyed the scolding immensely. Perhaps I could find a way to take advantage of this new discovery?
I'd need to be careful. Tempting as it was, even I could predict that an escalating series of intentional wrong-doings was likely to turn out poorly. Maybe I could slip in a clueless little "oh, I wasn't supposed to do that?" every once in a while.
Anyways, we were in the midst of restructuring the plan. I decided to do a little more information gathering in the meantime. For that, I consulted with Greg.
Ah, yes, it's time to introduce Greg. Please be patient with him, readers.
How to describe Greg? He was, to put it politely, a bit much. He was passionate and energetic, but had a poor sense of when to hold back. This meant that he often got into pointless arguments and generally rubbed people the wrong way. I took pity on him because he reminded me of myself, albeit much less cautious. He was a tad obnoxious at first, mistaking my kindness for romantic interest, but he became much more tolerable once I firmly established boundaries.
Despite his shortcomings, Greg was clever and hardworking, at least in regards to the things which interested him. One of those things was computer skills. With some encouragement, I had managed to steer him away from wasting his talents digging up "evidence" for conspiracy theories. It was almost sad how little attention he needed to get him motivated. Just an occasional "that's interesting, Greg" or "good job, Greg" was enough to fire him up for days. That might sound manipulative, but he now had some skills he could actually put on a resume.
We also chatted from time to time regarding our shared interests in reading material. There's no need to go into detail about that.
After a quick conversation, Greg directed me to the tools and methods I'd need to get better acquainted with Randy's online presence. I didn't use anything overly complex; you'd be amazed how careless people are with their Internet hygiene. With one careless click of a shady link in an email, Randy unknowingly installed a piece of software which snagged all of the passwords he had saved on his web browser and sent them over to me. Since he didn't have two-factor authentication enabled, I was able to log in to his email and social media accounts and download all of the messages he had ever sent.
I organized everything into a neat report to show Sophia.
<~@~>
As I mentioned earlier, compromises are vital in a long term relationship. In this situation, there were three people whose needs had to be balanced. Emma, who wanted Randy gone quickly and permanently. Sophia, who wanted to engage in justifiable violence. I, myself, just wanted to organize a fun date.
Sophia and I had a small disagreement about what "permanent" meant. She was of the opinion that beating Randy up and scaring him would suffice as a solution. However, I didn't believe that would be enough to prevent him from ever coming to school again as Emma had requested. We went back and forth until we came to an acceptable compromise. Sophia agreed to a subtler plan for Randy, so long as we found some other Empire targets to handle in a more "fist to face" fashion. Luckily, Randy's message history had unveiled a smorgasbord of ethically-challenged individuals who we could hit repeatedly without feeling bad.
Here, I let Sophia take the lead. I had read the manuals on combat tactics and such, but I had no flair for it. Sophia, on the other hand, came to life when she explained how to cut off gangsters' escape routes or demoralize them with psychological warfare. We had perhaps exceeded our mission's original mandate at this point, but Sophia was having so much fun that I didn't have the heart to stop her.
"What?" Sophia demanded.
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like…" she said, gesturing at me vaguely, "that. With that dopey grin on your face."
"Oh, sorry. I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself."
"What?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Anyways, what are we going to do about Randy? We never decided."
"Ah." I examined my nails. "I'm thinking I'll implicate him as a police informant after we hit these targets." That would tie everything neatly together, but I doubted Sophia would go for it.
It's an extreme solution. Aren't you going to scold me for it?
Sophia stared at me. "Just like that, huh?"
"He's a coward. It's not much of a stretch to think that he might turn on his friends."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it. You do that, he's dead meat. The skinheads don't just let snitches walk away."
"Then maybe he should have been more careful about his choice of acquaintances." Come on, scold me. I've been a bad vigilante. I'm out of control.
Sophia laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She sat in silence for several seconds, then sighed. "Fuck it. Let's go back to Plan Two."
"Oh? I thought you didn't like that one."
She glared at me. "I don't, you crazy bitch." Nice. Glare plus insult. Spicy. "It's horrifying. Why do you want this guy dead so badly?"
"Randy doesn't die in Plan Two," I protested, still internally relishing her disdain.
"Oh, fuck off. I'd be shocked if he didn't kill himself." Sophia sighed. "We're making some changes. He's an asshole, but he doesn't deserve that."
I loved seeing this side of Sophia. Her outward persona was brutal and merciless, but on the inside she held a strong sense of fairness. She cared deeply about what people deserved. I smiled. She really did have a romantic soul at heart. "Whatever you say."
<~@~>
To begin our first date, I penciled in some brutality against the Empire rank and file. Sophia seemed to be having fun, so I marked it as a success.
A guy swung a baseball bat at me. My super strength was not the centerpiece of my power-set, but being roughly as strong as a gorilla was no joke when it came to fighting normal people. I swatted the bat away with one hand and pulled him casually into a sleeper hold with the other.
Imagine a bulletproof gorilla has you in a choke-hold. What do you do? I'll give you a hint. If your answer was anything other than "pass out, ideally without soiling yourself," you were wrong. Well, the soiling part is optional. No judgments here.
I took my time putting restraints on my new acquaintance, letting Sophia enjoy her fight with the remaining thugs. I didn't like it when she put herself in danger; even an untrained gangster could get lucky. But keeping Sophia from fighting would be like keeping a sheepdog in a crate.
One of the upstanding gentlemen developed a brain cell and decided to run instead of trying to punch the selectively intangible cape. I grabbed him and tossed him back over to my partner.
What a beautiful roundhouse kick. She's so graceful.
<~@~>
Sophia got her outright Nazi-beating fix, so we got back to work on the job. I had to accelerate the timetable because Sophia had insisted on making a clean sweep of Randy's associates after seeing some of the evidence I found.
Gosh, my girls are so needy. Beat up this guy. Get rid of that guy. Busy busy busy. I giggled.
The new deadline was tight, but I was nothing if not adaptable.
<~@~>
Mason flipped his "work phone" closed with a sigh. He was used to "putting in work" on petty shit, but it had gotten even worse since Mason started pushing for full membership. His boss in the Eighty-Eight seemed to take special glee in giving Mason the most annoying grunt work possible. What was Mason gonna do? Say no? There were a dozen other guys with their hands up, just waiting for a chance to prove themselves. If you wanted to advance in the organization, you did what you were told. Period.
As of last month, Mason had been put in charge of recruitment at his school. Finding the suckers and the latchkey kids who could be convinced to take Mason's place on the low end of the totem pole. Mason wasn't very personable — and his boss knew it — but he had no choice but to do his best. Luckily, there were a lot of kids who were primed to buy into the pitch.
Look at how poor your family is. Look at how shit the economy is. Look at how much crime there is. What can you do about it? Join our club, and we'll give you all the answers. You'll make a bunch of friends, and if you're willing to put in some work, you can make some money too!
Mason didn't really buy into the political ideology of the group, but if you were poor in this city you stuck with your people. Otherwise, you were easy meat.
Mason forced a smile on his face as he picked up another of the promising new recruits he was going to drop off at an Empire affiliated party. It was Mason's job to make sure that they had a fun and safe experience and thus developed a good impression of the "Empire community."
Basically, it was like being a designated driver, but worse.
The residential street was already packed with parked cars, so Mason had to circle around to find a spot. He took a deep breath and prepared himself mentally for a long night.
As he led the gaggle of new kids down the street, he strained out some small talk to keep them relaxed. Headlights flashed behind him and he stepped onto the sidewalk. A white van pulled past, then stopped in the middle of the road. Mason had a second for his instincts to scream before a figure leapt out of the vehicle, rushing at him. The kids screamed.
Mason cursed and pulled his knife, wishing he had an actual gun. The figure didn't falter at the sight of the blade, and as they drew closer Mason could see that they were wearing a bright yellow smiley face mask and a flak jacket.
A cape? What would a cape want with me?
He hesitated, and that was all that the cape needed to reach out and press their fingertips almost gently against the sides of his neck. Mason lashed out with his knife, but the cape ignored his wild attacks and slowly increased the pressure.
Within seconds, darkness fell upon him.
<~@~>
Mason woke with a groan, squinting at the bright light above him. His head throbbed. He tried to put a hand to his temple and found that he was bound to the chair he was in.
"Hello, Mason," an electronically garbled voice said. "I'd like to have a discussion about your future."
<~@~>
Sophia and I managed to wrap up the whole "Randy and Company" business ahead of schedule. I'll spare you the details. It was a challenge to find enough quick-dry concrete on such short notice, but my dad was helpful in that regard.
Anyways, you don't care about that tedious stuff, right? The important takeaway was that Sophia and I got to know each other on a more intimate level.
Let's move on to the next part.
<~@~>
Sophia and I sat on a rooftop a good distance away from yet another Empire target. I was getting a surprising amount of mileage out of this date idea. It was awful that there were so many Nazis, of course, but if they were going to be evil anyways I figured I might as well take advantage of them.
I offered Sophia a wrapped chicken salad sandwich out of my insulated lunch bag.
Sophia gave me a scandalized look. "You were carrying a fucking sandwich around? On a mission?"
"I was carrying two sandwiches," I said, pulling out another one.
Sophia scowled. "This isn't a picnic."
"They're made from that rotisserie chicken you liked."
Sophia grumbled but took the sandwich. I took the binoculars with one hand while bringing my sandwich up to my mouth with the other.
"You think a cape will show up?" I asked.
"Maybe. Somebody important is probably going to be there. Gotta make the baby Nazis feel special on their big day." Sophia's glove creaked as she tightened her first. According to some intelligence that we had gathered, there was an Empire initiation scheduled for tonight. It was an open secret that initiation as a full member demanded the vicious beating of a non-white person.
Diligent superheroines that we were, we arrived early to scope out the venue. Men in Empire colors were beginning to trickle into the abandoned warehouse, and a few of them were setting up an honest-to-goodness stage. Lighting, speakers, all of it.
Disgusting. My ability roused in response to my revulsion, turning the binoculars in my hand into a Weapon of Power. I pulled it back. Not yet.
Another half hour passed before the guests of honor started to arrive. A man in a military outfit and gas mask stepped out of a black SUV, flanked by more seriously armed thugs.
Krieg. He might be a problem.
The details of Krieg's power were ambiguous, but it was generally agreed upon that he had some sort of short range telekinesis or kinetic manipulation. Blows against him were weakened or deflected while his own attacks were amplified. Depending on how it worked, it could be a poor match-up for me.
I felt a twinge of… indignation. I wasn't one of those people who thought that parahuman abilities were sentient, but I could've sworn that my power had opinions, sometimes. Right now, I had an inexplicable urge to Smash the villain into a wall and prove my Brute dominance. Was that my power prodding me?
Well, okay, power. I guess I was planning on doing that anyways.
Satisfaction.
Uh-oh, I'm talking to my power now. Can I really afford another wacky personality quirk?
Another set of goons piled out of a truck, a pair of them dragging a bound man between them. A bag was over his head, but I could see dark skin on his arms. They led him over towards the warehouse.
I put away the remainder of my sandwich and handed Sophia the binoculars. "I think that's tonight's victim," I said.
Sophia took a look and growled. "Alright, let's fuck these guys up."
"Call it in first?"
Sophia glanced at me. "We can take 'em."
"Probably, yes, but the victim might need an ambulance." Sophia responded poorly to what she viewed as challenges to her competence, but she had a pragmatic side I could reliably appeal to.
Sophia sighed. "Fine, do it. But we're going in, green light or not."
"Of course," I said. I tapped on my helmet and activated my Wards communicator. Luckily, Missy was on console duty and took my report without unnecessary questions. After a brief exchange, she transfered me to Armsmaster.
"I'm accessing your helmet feed," he said without preamble. A lot of my coworkers considered Armsmaster to be too brusque, but I had no issues with his focused style of heroism. There was a brief pause before he continued. "How many on site?"
"About fifteen to twenty. Krieg is the only cape that we've spotted, but there are a few heavily armed normals."
"Understood. I'm en route, ETA ten minutes. Hold position until I arrive. Krieg is a skilled fighter and we have few known specifics about his power."
"Sir, I'm afraid that if we wait, they might harm their prisoner."
A brief pause. "Alright. But if any other capes show up, I want you to pull back."
"Understood."
"Be careful. I'm on my way."
I nodded at Sophia. "Ten minutes. Let's do it."
Sophia leapt from the roof, slowing her descent by going shadow. I stepped off to follow her, bleeding off momentum with a roll. I could have just dropped, but my damage threshold was high enough to sprain my ankle.
We ran side by side on the street. As we approached, Sophia broke off at an angle, looping around towards the building from the side. As much as she liked to be in the thick of it, even she had to admit that I was a superior candidate for hitting things head on.
I hid behind a car as I watched Sophia creep along a side alley. She paused, peering at the thugs out front, then made an agile leap into shadow form. In the night, her Breaker state was almost impossible to see. Her silhouette drifted through a window into the warehouse.
A few seconds later, a text popped up on my helmet HUD.
I'm in. Eyes on hostage. Go.
I stood and unlimbered my spear, breaking into a brisk jog. A few armed men lingered by the front entrance, doing a poor job of standing guard. They were smoking in a circle and chatting even as I approached them in the open. One of them saw me and cursed, dropping his cigarette as he fumbled to bring his weapon to bear. The rest hastily followed suit.
"Wards ENE! Drop your weapons!" I yelled.
They glanced at each other, wavered, then dashed for the door. Three of them made it, and in an inspiring show of solidarity they slammed the door in the face of one who straggled. I swept him out of the way and battered down the steel door with a quick poke of my weapon. A couple thugs that were too slow to get clear were sent sprawling by the impact.
"The parasites that-" Krieg's booming voice cut off abruptly as I made my entrance. He turned his gas-masked head to stare at me from up on the stage. The rest of the crowd was frozen in shock.
I pointed my spear at the villain. "You're under arrest." I didn't really have to read him his rights or anything. Cape law was a little more fluid than the "regular" justice system.
To his credit, Krieg was only stunned for a moment before he addressed the crowd. "Gentlemen, I will entertain the young heroine. Everyone else, leave. Quickly but carefully."
They scattered like quail. I let them. The skinheads that were holding the hostage hesitated, and a pair of bolts streaked out of the shadows to fell them. Sophia came forward, reloading her crossbows and eyeing the fleeing minions. After a split second of uncertainty she moved to aid the victim, taking off his restraints and pulling him away from the imminent cape fight.
Krieg hopped down from the stage and bowed with a flourish. "Good evening, miss." His voice had a bare trace of an accent, or maybe it was just distorted by his mask. "I don't suppose it would be possible for us to go our separate ways without further violence?"
I gave a pointed look at the man who had been slated to be beaten to a pulp for no reason other than the color of his skin. "I don't think that's in the cards, no." I circled, putting myself between the villain and Sophia.
Krieg shrugged. "A shame. I do hate to fight children, regardless of how misguided they might be. If only—"
I made a probing swipe at his shoulder which he nimbly back-stepped to avoid. "Oh, sorry, were you still monologuing? I thought this was the part where I hit you."
"Very well," he said, getting into a more serious fighting stance. "I gave you a chance to walk away."
I snorted and stepped forward, flicking a few thrusts at his torso. He dodged and tried to close the distance, but I adjusted my grip and brought the other end of my weapon across, forcing him to jump back again. A bolt flew at him just as he got his balance, but it slowed dramatically as it came within a few feet of him, letting him sway to avoid it. I heard Sophia snarl in frustration behind me.
I stepped up the pressure. Armsmaster was on his way, but some of the escaping Empire goons had no doubt contacted their superiors about the fight. I didn't want to get swamped by more capes. I threatened Krieg constantly from multiple angles, mixing it up to try and force him into an awkward position. Knee, head, ankle, midsection. Sophia shot a couple more bolts at him, but his power slowed them down too much. The projectiles Krieg threw at me were likewise futile. He had an extensive selection of knick-knacks. Hammers, ball bearings, even a baseball. They all glanced off my pseudo-invincible armor.
Finally, he dodged a thrust towards his chest and grabbed my weapon, trying to pull me off balance towards him. My strength warred against his kinetic manipulation, but wasn't enough to win the tug of war. So as I felt myself being yanked forward, I planted my front foot and twisted my hips, turning a "pull" into a "strike." It wasn't much, but I felt my power grudgingly acknowledge the motion as sufficient to activate a miniature Smash. Nonsensical force filled the weapon and tore it out of Krieg's grip, throwing him onto the ground.
He was quick to recover but I capitalized on his fall immediately, throwing a thrust as fast as I could. I felt an odd sort of resistance, but my strike cleaved through the effect and sent Krieg sliding along the floor until he crashed into a wall. Brick dust bloomed from the impact.
Triumph. Superiority.
Not now, power.
Krieg stood, a little unsteady on his feet but otherwise seemingly unhurt.
Okay then. No more safety Smashes. Let's give him a real one.
I raised my weapon again and approached. Krieg took a step back, then turned to flee.
"Hey!" I yelled, giving chase. I paused to peek over my shoulder at Sophia, who had taken cover behind a pillar along with the victim.
"Fuckin' get him!" she cried.
I nodded and resumed my pursuit. Krieg was fast, and had made it across the street by the time I ran out the front door. He was about to slip around a corner when a blur of blue and silver zoomed past, the purr of a powerful engine rattling my bones. Armsmaster took the corner smoothly and cut Krieg off, pointing his signature halberd at the villain. Krieg lunged at the hero and was met with a shower of pellets that burst into a cloud of thick orange gas. Krieg took another step then fell to a knee, clutching at his mask.
"Your gas mask won't help," Armsmaster said. "I made this formulation specifically to counter you."
Krieg crawled forward a couple feet before crumpling face-down onto the pavement.
Armsmaster was really good at his job.
"Villain secured," he said. He looked up at me. "Where's Shadow Stalker?"
"With the victim, in the warehouse. The rest of the henchmen took off."
"Understood. Help me get Krieg on the bike, then we'll meet up with her and get out of here."
<~@~>
Madison wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, the threat was gone. Not only Randy, but his whole goon squad too. There was a lot of gossip going around, most of it nonsense. When she asked Taylor, all the other girl had said was that "the situation was handled."
Are my friends a shadowy crime syndicate?
She derived a guilty pleasure from imagining that her friends had executed some sort of clandestine operation in order to "take out" the people that had bothered her. She liked knowing that they cared for her.
On the other hand, she couldn't help but be uneasy. Was it her fault that her friends had done something that was likely illegal? Could she have just kept her mouth shut and prevented the whole situation? She didn't want to be the weak one, the one who always needed to be protected and saved. Taylor and Sophia were Wards, for God's sake, putting their lives on the line to fight the gangs, and Emma was extraordinary in her own way. Madison couldn't even muster up the courage to admit her feelings.
My feelings.
Madison rubbed at her eyes. She had to handle that, one way or another. At the moment, she was leaning towards quashing it. Mostly because she was scared. Randy and his friends were gone, but his actions had been an unpleasant reminder that "abnormal" relationships were a huge risk in Brockton Bay. Even a rumor of a gay relationship would be enough to put everyone involved in danger.
Cold fear settled in her stomach as she imagined what might happen to Emma if Madison's careless words caused her to become a target. Then the image was replaced by the would-be attacker getting the absolute shit beaten out of him by Sophia and Taylor, and Madison snorted. Emma wasn't helpless, and she wouldn't let some jumped-up skinheads scare her.
Madison took her seat opposite Emma on one of the weird stone tables set up in the Quad. She liked the first break in the school day. For about five minutes, she and Emma could sit together, alone, before Taylor and Sophia showed up. It wasn't like Madison disliked the other girls' presence, but it was nice to have a little time all to themselves.
"How are you?" Emma asked.
"Hmm?" Madison shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
"Are you doing okay? You know, after the whole Randy thing. It must have been scary."
"I'm fine. I know you'd never let anything happen to me."
Emma smiled. Madison may have imagined it, but in that moment it seemed to her that the sun caught Emma's hair just right so that it glowed, like it was smoldering with some inner fire. "Of course. You can always—"
"I like you," Madison blurted out.
Oh, shit. What did I just say?
Emma's smile turned brittle for a moment before recovering. "I like you too."
"That's not what I mean. I…" Madison couldn't stop the words now, like she was running downhill, flying, her feet barely touching the ground in her abandon. "I love you. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't expect an answer. I just had to say it. So… there it is. I love you. Like, so much it hurts." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying fruitlessly to keep tears from escaping. She sniffled and got up to leave. "I'm sorry."
Emma caught her wrist. "Stay." Madison instinctively obeyed, sitting back down. "Look at me." Madison brought her gaze up. A corner of Emma's mouth pulled up in a tiny smile. "Good. Now relax. Deep breaths. Take as long as you need."
"I don't—"
Emma raised a finger in front of her lips. "Calm down first. Then we can talk."
Madison nodded and took a slow, shuddering breath. Emma rubbed her thumb on the back of Madison's hand. Madison took another breath, and another, until the frantic desire to flee left her.
"Okay. I'm okay now."
"Good. Are you ready to talk about it?"
Madison winced but nodded. "Yeah."
"So, you love me? Romantically?"
Madison tensed. "Yes. I didn't want to make things awkward, and I know it's weird, but— "
Emma laughed, and Madison flinched. Emma took Madison's other hand, squeezing it. "Oh, no. I'm not laughing at you. It's just…" she bit her bottom lip, "that's probably the least weird thing I've heard in a long time." She laced her fingers in between Madison's, and Madison's breath caught in her chest. "It's not weird at all," Emma murmured.
"S-so you don't hate me?" Madison asked in a small voice.
Emma's eyes narrowed, and a jolt of something ran up Madison's back. Fear? Excitement? Both? "Hate you? Is that how you thought I'd react?"
Madison swallowed. "Um, not exactly? I was just afraid, and, well, you know…"
Emma hummed. "I see. Well, I guess I need to put your fears to rest." She turned Madison's wrist over, studying it closely. Emma's breath tickled her skin. Then Emma's heavy-lidded eyes rose to meet Madison's own, and Madison squeaked.
"It's a little too public here," Emma said, "so this will have to do for now." Emma pressed her lips softly against the inside of Madison's wrist, right on the pulse point. Madison stopped breathing entirely. Warmth spilled from her arm and rioted through her chest. Emma smirked. "Do you feel reassured?"
"Uh, um, so that does that mean that—?"
"Hmm, I guess not. Let's try again." Emma planted another kiss on Madison's wrist, this time more aggressively. Madison desperately tried not to make inappropriate noises. It felt like every nerve in her body was firing at once.
"E-Emma," she hissed, "I get it! I get it. Somebody might see."
"Do you really get it, though?" Emma asked, her eyes shining with predatory glee. "Have I gotten my feelings across?"
"Yes," Madison said, a grin spreading unbidden across her face.
"Good. But just to be clear," Emma said, leaning in to whisper in Madison's ear, "I love you too."
<~@~><~@~><~@~>
Shout out to @argentorum and @iolande for beta reading, and @somnolentSlumber for SPAG assistance.
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