- Location
- Spain
Congratulations Little Girl, You've just been promoted to THE MAN! THE MAYORAL CANDIDATE MAN!
The Miserable Misadventures of Mayor Missy
- Thread starter RavensDagger
- Start date
- Superhero
Kell of Snow
Verified TinTin enjoyer
- Location
- New York
I feel uncultured asking, but what exactly is Superjail as an IP and not a phrase to use?
- Location
- Russia
One of those edgy, psychopathic cartoons about a Willy Wonka type running a jail as far as I'm aware.
Aurora Moon
Verfied Insomniac with too much time on her hands
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
What Destiny Player said. But they use the over the ridilciously top violence and gory bits for comedy, so it's oddly entertaining instead of making you roll your eyes at how edgy it's trying to be.
Kagemoto
I stand against the Infinite Horizon
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
Must make New Years sad
Aurora Moon
Verfied Insomniac with too much time on her hands
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I think it was mainly to prevent idiots from doing that on 4th of july and stuff.. how there'd be people still setting off fireworks at that hour just because. and of course people would be trying to sleep by that point.
owlmessenger
Parts Guy Extraordinaire
- Location
- New York
Okay, having seen nobody post this yet after glancing over the replies, *Ahem* "What could possibly go wrong". *Runs hell-for-leather to cover and waits for the fireworks*
- Location
- Germany
Ah, I love weaponizing Murphy.
- Location
- Море песка, солнце огня и множество злых сарацин
This... is not an idea I would have came up with, and I'm saying this as someone who had came up with some fairly crazy ideas before.
Looking forward to where it goes.
Looking forward to where it goes.
Chapter Two
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
Chapter Two
"There's a letter for you," her mom said as she slipped into the kitchen. She was holding an entire pile of bills and letters and advertisements. She pulled one out and placed it on the table next to Missy's cereal.
Missy took another bite, crunched her way through the mouthful, then looked at the letter. It was a simple white envelope with a couple of stamps and her address and name on the front. "Huh," she said as she let her spoon drop into her bowl and picked it up. A quick inspection didn't reveal much.
Missy couldn't even remember the last time she'd read her fan mail, to be honest. Or replied to one... That was her PR team's job. It had been for a while, and she was pretty out of practice these days.
"Well, are you going to open it?" he mom asked. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, facing Missy as she scanned through the other mail, then discarded the entire pile next to her.
"Yeah, I guess," Missy said. She pulled the side off the envelope and used her power to make the inside bigger. No Tinkertech bombs or suspicious powders or anything, just a piece of folded paper.
She pulled it out and read it with a quick scan.
"So?" her mother asked.
'"Oh, it's a thing," she said. "Uh, it's not important." Missy didn't grin or smile or anything, her face staying neutral.
Judging by the flat look on her mother's face the bluff didn't work. "Let me see," she said as she reached for the letter.
The space between them grew tenfold in a blink. "It's nothing you need to worry about," Missy insisted as she stood up and left the remains of her breakfast behind. It was Saturday, which meant she couldn't just run off to school and hope that her mother forgot.
Judging by the unimpressed look she was receiving from her mother she was absolutely screwed. "Missy Biron," her mother said.
"Look, it's none of your business," Missy said quite reasonably and not at all defensively.
"Give me the letter," her mother pushed. "I'll decide that for myself."
"It's illegal to tamper with the post."
Her mother rolled her eyes. "You opened it already."
Missy weighed her options. On the one hand she could show her mother what she'd received, then get grounded for going behind her parent's backs. On the other, she could hide it, get grounded for hiding it, and then get grounded some more later when they found out.
Only one of those options gave her plan any chance of success.
Missy knew her house very well. She'd been living in the same three bedroom house in the better part of town for her entire life. So it was simplicity itself to wrap everything so that she could step back into her room from the kitchen and then snap everything back into place before her mom could follow.
A flick and the door was closed, then the lock was twisted.
Privacy.
Or as much privacy as she could get while her mother ranted about using powers in the house from downstairs. She wasn't going to break into her room though. Not if it meant giving her dad ammunition to use against her as he took the moral high ground.
A perfectly executed plan.
Missy jumped backwards, then shifted things so that she crashed into her bed with a pomf of squished blankets. Her pillows and Gallant plushies (three of them wasn't creepy at all, she had plushies of the others, they were just elsewhere) bounced as she settled in place and brought the letter up above her head.
She had officially been entered into the running for Mayor of Brockton Bay. There were details about votes and dates and so on, but those were for later. This made it official. Her name would be on the ballots.
Missy grinned. Now all that she needed to do was get people to vote for her.
Her grin faded.
She blinked a few times.
Her grin vanished entirely.
How did people convince others to vote for them?
She knew about campaign promises that politicians weren't supposed to keep and the ones they were, and about economics and... stuff. Uh… things? She knew about that.
"Oh, fuck me sideways," she whispered to herself. "What did I get myself into?"
Pushing aside the initial despair and panic, Missy tried to think about it reasonably. She knew a lot about PR stuff. Like, a lot a lot. Fuckloads really. She knew more about how to smile for the cameras than she did about taking down bad guys and taking down bad guys was ostensibly her job.
Ostensibly. The stubborn refusal of her superiors to hand her a cattle prod so she could go to town on people from a mile away made things sort of iffy.
Knowing as much as she did about getting people to like you, she just needed to apply that training to get people to vote for her. She just had to look photogenic and like she knew what she was doing. PR 101. That sounded pretty simple. All the other stuff could be figured out as she went. It made perfect sense.
Until she actually thought about it. That's when things started to fall apart.
"Okay, plan Charlie," she muttered. "Get my shit together, learn about politics and stuff, and then get people to vote for me. Easy."
Yup. Easy. It was all going to be super easy.
No chance it was all going to go to shit. None at all.
Missy squeezed her eyes shut, let the letter fall to the side, then grabbed the nearest Gallant plushie (the big one) and hugged it close to her chest. She squirmed a little. Kicked her feet. Tried not to scream…. No, not tried. Did.
She could do this. There was no point in giving up before she'd even started. She already had an electoral platform ready to go and that was like half the battle.
Missy Biron, tough on crime! ...She could figure out a slogan later. And maybe print some flyers or something at the library. Yeah, she could do it.
Determination burning in her chest, Missy hopped off her bed, stuffed the letter into a PRT issued lockbox which only held a copy of her costume and some zip-ties and the like, then, like any proper young woman about to set out on the path to becoming a productive member of society, snuck out the window.
***
Wanted to give a shout-out to Blackmarch who helped with writing this and the next few chapters (like a lot)! Also, Eli who made the bad grammar go away.
"There's a letter for you," her mom said as she slipped into the kitchen. She was holding an entire pile of bills and letters and advertisements. She pulled one out and placed it on the table next to Missy's cereal.
Missy took another bite, crunched her way through the mouthful, then looked at the letter. It was a simple white envelope with a couple of stamps and her address and name on the front. "Huh," she said as she let her spoon drop into her bowl and picked it up. A quick inspection didn't reveal much.
Missy couldn't even remember the last time she'd read her fan mail, to be honest. Or replied to one... That was her PR team's job. It had been for a while, and she was pretty out of practice these days.
"Well, are you going to open it?" he mom asked. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, facing Missy as she scanned through the other mail, then discarded the entire pile next to her.
"Yeah, I guess," Missy said. She pulled the side off the envelope and used her power to make the inside bigger. No Tinkertech bombs or suspicious powders or anything, just a piece of folded paper.
She pulled it out and read it with a quick scan.
"So?" her mother asked.
'"Oh, it's a thing," she said. "Uh, it's not important." Missy didn't grin or smile or anything, her face staying neutral.
Judging by the flat look on her mother's face the bluff didn't work. "Let me see," she said as she reached for the letter.
The space between them grew tenfold in a blink. "It's nothing you need to worry about," Missy insisted as she stood up and left the remains of her breakfast behind. It was Saturday, which meant she couldn't just run off to school and hope that her mother forgot.
Judging by the unimpressed look she was receiving from her mother she was absolutely screwed. "Missy Biron," her mother said.
"Look, it's none of your business," Missy said quite reasonably and not at all defensively.
"Give me the letter," her mother pushed. "I'll decide that for myself."
"It's illegal to tamper with the post."
Her mother rolled her eyes. "You opened it already."
Missy weighed her options. On the one hand she could show her mother what she'd received, then get grounded for going behind her parent's backs. On the other, she could hide it, get grounded for hiding it, and then get grounded some more later when they found out.
Only one of those options gave her plan any chance of success.
Missy knew her house very well. She'd been living in the same three bedroom house in the better part of town for her entire life. So it was simplicity itself to wrap everything so that she could step back into her room from the kitchen and then snap everything back into place before her mom could follow.
A flick and the door was closed, then the lock was twisted.
Privacy.
Or as much privacy as she could get while her mother ranted about using powers in the house from downstairs. She wasn't going to break into her room though. Not if it meant giving her dad ammunition to use against her as he took the moral high ground.
A perfectly executed plan.
Missy jumped backwards, then shifted things so that she crashed into her bed with a pomf of squished blankets. Her pillows and Gallant plushies (three of them wasn't creepy at all, she had plushies of the others, they were just elsewhere) bounced as she settled in place and brought the letter up above her head.
She had officially been entered into the running for Mayor of Brockton Bay. There were details about votes and dates and so on, but those were for later. This made it official. Her name would be on the ballots.
Missy grinned. Now all that she needed to do was get people to vote for her.
Her grin faded.
She blinked a few times.
Her grin vanished entirely.
How did people convince others to vote for them?
She knew about campaign promises that politicians weren't supposed to keep and the ones they were, and about economics and... stuff. Uh… things? She knew about that.
"Oh, fuck me sideways," she whispered to herself. "What did I get myself into?"
Pushing aside the initial despair and panic, Missy tried to think about it reasonably. She knew a lot about PR stuff. Like, a lot a lot. Fuckloads really. She knew more about how to smile for the cameras than she did about taking down bad guys and taking down bad guys was ostensibly her job.
Ostensibly. The stubborn refusal of her superiors to hand her a cattle prod so she could go to town on people from a mile away made things sort of iffy.
Knowing as much as she did about getting people to like you, she just needed to apply that training to get people to vote for her. She just had to look photogenic and like she knew what she was doing. PR 101. That sounded pretty simple. All the other stuff could be figured out as she went. It made perfect sense.
Until she actually thought about it. That's when things started to fall apart.
"Okay, plan Charlie," she muttered. "Get my shit together, learn about politics and stuff, and then get people to vote for me. Easy."
Yup. Easy. It was all going to be super easy.
No chance it was all going to go to shit. None at all.
Missy squeezed her eyes shut, let the letter fall to the side, then grabbed the nearest Gallant plushie (the big one) and hugged it close to her chest. She squirmed a little. Kicked her feet. Tried not to scream…. No, not tried. Did.
She could do this. There was no point in giving up before she'd even started. She already had an electoral platform ready to go and that was like half the battle.
Missy Biron, tough on crime! ...She could figure out a slogan later. And maybe print some flyers or something at the library. Yeah, she could do it.
Determination burning in her chest, Missy hopped off her bed, stuffed the letter into a PRT issued lockbox which only held a copy of her costume and some zip-ties and the like, then, like any proper young woman about to set out on the path to becoming a productive member of society, snuck out the window.
***
Wanted to give a shout-out to Blackmarch who helped with writing this and the next few chapters (like a lot)! Also, Eli who made the bad grammar go away.
I am looking forward to all the Moms, Aunties and Grandmas voting for her for the Awws only to go WTF when Missy wins at the end. Thanks in no small part of the fact that her opponent was way too creepy being all thin and with the pedo vibes. And the previous Mayor being way too fat and with a pornstache.
Now we need her to meet best Campaign Administrator Taylor Hebert.
Now we need her to meet best Campaign Administrator Taylor Hebert.
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
Well... she's not wrong...
You know, if you showed this kind of proficiency in combat, the PRT would call you a villain, but at least you would have succeeded in pulling a Lung most likely. So... whatever.
Wouldn't be Missy if she didn't take advantage of her parents issues against each other.
POLITICS!
BUREAUCRACY!
HELL!!
Have you seen some of the people we vote for in the USA? The Non-Grimderp version?
Yeah, it really is that easy in some of them.
Hell, for some of them, it doesn't even matter if they DO, so long as they have enough money and the News Stations say they won.
Sounds totally legit.
Is coils unhealthy obsession for useful young women going to get him in trouble? Cause I can see if Taylor goes all watchdog (assuming she has powers in this one) and finds out he took Dinah or even about Lisa, missy and her would absolutely ruin him. You may ask would coil really do something so stupid while running for election. Yes as smart as he is he can be a real dumbass about potential consequences thanks to his power.
- Location
- California
Lisa after being caught snooping on Missy for Coil: "How would you like to remove one gang from Brocton Bay as proof you can handle the gangs?"
- Location
- earth
Raven, you son of a bitch you've done it again.
Let the crack machine turn on the gears of fanfiction.
...
I'm pretty sure I butchered that last sentence, but I can't find what it should be.
Edit: Motherfucker it's the last line of the Skyrim prophecy.
TheWorld Eater crack writer wakes and the wheel turns upon the last Dragonborn next crackfic.
...
I'm pretty sure I butchered that last sentence, but I can't find what it should be.
Edit: Motherfucker it's the last line of the Skyrim prophecy.
The
Last edited:
Chapter Three
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
Chapter Three
Missy narrowed her eyes. It wasn't a squint. Squints were for suspicious people or people that had bad eyesight. Narrowed eyes were for badasses--like her--who were getting ready to chew bubblegum, kick ass, and get people to vote for them to make the city a better place.
She was in her Sunday best. A nice skirt and blouse and a little business jacket that she knew made her look more mature. Dressed as she was she could maybe pass for a fifteen year old.
Missy narrowed her eyes even more and tightened her hands into fists. Serious business fists. She could do this. Easy peasy, squeeze a lemon in someone's eye and watch them cry. She just had to get back to knocking on doors and selling her product:
Justice.
The last street had ended up with her getting laughed at, a dog that had been twice her size trying to chase her before she'd jumped onto a roof, and one fat guy asking her some very rude things before she ran off, his location given to the nearest patrol car. All in all, it could have been worse. It definitely could have been better, but it could have been worse. At least the street before that one had been nice. An older lady had agreed to vote for her and also gave her freshly baked cookies. Chocolate chip. Score.
Nodding to herself, Missy started her door to door campaign again. The first two houses she knocked at were quiet, and no one answered. Then she almost skipped the third because there was no car in the entrance, but a light from the top floor caught her attention.
Missy paused for a moment and shored up her badassery (it was a noun) before walking up the path to the two story house.
She brushed off a couple of flies and took a sniff to see if there was something rotting around attracting them, but there really wasn't. Not that she could tell. She brushed her blouse to remove any stray cookie crumbs, then started up the steps.
Being surrounded by flies while making a pitch wasn't a very good look.
The second step creaked under her weight, all eighty pounds of pure muscle, and Missy warped the world so that she ended up at the top of the steps without crashing through them. "Maintenance is a thing, you know," she grumbled.
Shaking her head, Missy turned to the door and reached up to knock.
Her hand never even made it.
The door swung open and Missy's eyes widened as a hand shot out, grabbed her by the collar and yanked her in.
She was about to show off what two years of CQC, pent up rage, and a whole lot of physics defying bullshittery could do to someone's soft bits when a knife was placed over her throat.
The door snipped shut and things were suddenly a lot worse.
"W-why did they send you?" someone asked.
"What?" Missy squeaked. She grabbed the... girl's wrist and tried to pull the knife back, but the girl was heavier, even if it was clear she wasn't as strong.
Missy was going to buy a taser and PR could go and fuck themselves with it if they thought they could tell her what to do in her civilian life.
"You're Vista," the girl said, her words faltering. "From the Wards. Which means you're here to... to recruit me, or - or arrest me or something."
Missy blinked. "What?" she asked again. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"I felt you doing something to the world with my bugs," the girl said. "What am I supposed to think?"
Her eyes had gotten used to the dimmer light in the corridor, enough that she could see the panic and fear in the girl's expression. "Okay, okay, calm down, alright?" Missy said. She hadn't been allowed to attend any of the hostage negotiation seminars, but she had watched plenty of movies while on console duty. Close enough. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you, or do anything, okay?"
The girl looked from her to the door, then back. "You're alone?" she asked.
Missy hesitated before answering. "Yeah, I am. Just me. Minding my own business. I didn't mean to, uh, bother you."
The girl pulled back. "Oh my god, I attacked a Ward," she said, her hands coming up to cover her face and revealing the... the butter knife she had been holding onto.
It wasn't even serrated or anything. Or rusty. Or just in any way sharp.
Missy felt just a little silly now.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said, then a little belatedly, "And I'm totally not a Ward."
The girl's panic subsided a little and she watched Missy for a few long seconds. "And I'm not a parahuman?" she tried.
Missy smiled. If anything, her captor was quick on the uptake. "Okay then," she said. "Uh, can I leave?" she asked.
She was totally going to report this, but that was no reason to be a jerk about it.
"Why were you here?" the girl asked.
Missy licked her lips, but this time she wasn't going to be caught unawares and she could smash through the door's foot-wide window with but a twist of her power. "I'm running for mayor," she said. "Of Brockton Bay."
The girl blinked, then a smile tugged at her lips and she started to laugh.
"Hey!" Missy forgot about her plan to jump out the window in favor of defending herself. They'd already established that there wasn't much to be worried about. What was the other girl going to do? Poke her with a butter knife? So scary. "I really am running for mayor. I was campaigning for votes."
The girl shook her head, hair going everywhere. "No, it's just. I thought you were, but it's just... Wow." She sniffled. "Okay. So Vista wants to become mayor. Okay."
"I told you, I'm not Vista, I'm Missy. Missy Biron." There was no use in hiding her name if she was going to use it to get into an elected position.
The girl smiled again, this time coming across as more than a little sheepish. "Okay, Missy. I'm Taylor. And I'm sorry about, you know." She wiggled the butter knife around.
"It's fine."
"So, uh, why are you running for mayor? Aren't you a Ward? Don't they pay well?"
"They don't." Not that Missy was bitter or anything. "But that's not the point and I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm not Vista," Missy said. "I just want to, you know, make things better."
"Oh." Taylor said before nodding. "That's good. Great even. There are a lot of things that need to be fixed here. So many of them. I think having a hero as a mayor might be cool. A hero and not just another old guy in a suit."
"I know, right?!" Missy agreed fervently. "I'm not done building my, uh, platform yet, or pulling together my funding, but I'm getting there. It's all going to be about making the city a safer place. Being tough on crime." She paused for emphasis. "Extra tough."
"I can get behind that." Taylor nodded. "That's good. The PRT people didn't send an escort with you?"
"I'm not working with the PRT for this. Or for anything else. I'm not Vista, I'm Missy."
"Right. "Do you want some tea, Vista?" Her lips twitched. "… Missy?"
"... fuck it, sure," Missy muttered. "Do you have juice?"
***
So, Blackmarch has become this fic's co-writer. Somehow. I dunno, it was 4am and we might both have been a little inebriated. Anywho~ more Mayor Missy!
Wanted to give a shout-out to Eli who made the bad grammar go away.
Missy narrowed her eyes. It wasn't a squint. Squints were for suspicious people or people that had bad eyesight. Narrowed eyes were for badasses--like her--who were getting ready to chew bubblegum, kick ass, and get people to vote for them to make the city a better place.
She was in her Sunday best. A nice skirt and blouse and a little business jacket that she knew made her look more mature. Dressed as she was she could maybe pass for a fifteen year old.
Missy narrowed her eyes even more and tightened her hands into fists. Serious business fists. She could do this. Easy peasy, squeeze a lemon in someone's eye and watch them cry. She just had to get back to knocking on doors and selling her product:
Justice.
The last street had ended up with her getting laughed at, a dog that had been twice her size trying to chase her before she'd jumped onto a roof, and one fat guy asking her some very rude things before she ran off, his location given to the nearest patrol car. All in all, it could have been worse. It definitely could have been better, but it could have been worse. At least the street before that one had been nice. An older lady had agreed to vote for her and also gave her freshly baked cookies. Chocolate chip. Score.
Nodding to herself, Missy started her door to door campaign again. The first two houses she knocked at were quiet, and no one answered. Then she almost skipped the third because there was no car in the entrance, but a light from the top floor caught her attention.
Missy paused for a moment and shored up her badassery (it was a noun) before walking up the path to the two story house.
She brushed off a couple of flies and took a sniff to see if there was something rotting around attracting them, but there really wasn't. Not that she could tell. She brushed her blouse to remove any stray cookie crumbs, then started up the steps.
Being surrounded by flies while making a pitch wasn't a very good look.
The second step creaked under her weight, all eighty pounds of pure muscle, and Missy warped the world so that she ended up at the top of the steps without crashing through them. "Maintenance is a thing, you know," she grumbled.
Shaking her head, Missy turned to the door and reached up to knock.
Her hand never even made it.
The door swung open and Missy's eyes widened as a hand shot out, grabbed her by the collar and yanked her in.
She was about to show off what two years of CQC, pent up rage, and a whole lot of physics defying bullshittery could do to someone's soft bits when a knife was placed over her throat.
The door snipped shut and things were suddenly a lot worse.
"W-why did they send you?" someone asked.
"What?" Missy squeaked. She grabbed the... girl's wrist and tried to pull the knife back, but the girl was heavier, even if it was clear she wasn't as strong.
Missy was going to buy a taser and PR could go and fuck themselves with it if they thought they could tell her what to do in her civilian life.
"You're Vista," the girl said, her words faltering. "From the Wards. Which means you're here to... to recruit me, or - or arrest me or something."
Missy blinked. "What?" she asked again. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"I felt you doing something to the world with my bugs," the girl said. "What am I supposed to think?"
Her eyes had gotten used to the dimmer light in the corridor, enough that she could see the panic and fear in the girl's expression. "Okay, okay, calm down, alright?" Missy said. She hadn't been allowed to attend any of the hostage negotiation seminars, but she had watched plenty of movies while on console duty. Close enough. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you, or do anything, okay?"
The girl looked from her to the door, then back. "You're alone?" she asked.
Missy hesitated before answering. "Yeah, I am. Just me. Minding my own business. I didn't mean to, uh, bother you."
The girl pulled back. "Oh my god, I attacked a Ward," she said, her hands coming up to cover her face and revealing the... the butter knife she had been holding onto.
It wasn't even serrated or anything. Or rusty. Or just in any way sharp.
Missy felt just a little silly now.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said, then a little belatedly, "And I'm totally not a Ward."
The girl's panic subsided a little and she watched Missy for a few long seconds. "And I'm not a parahuman?" she tried.
Missy smiled. If anything, her captor was quick on the uptake. "Okay then," she said. "Uh, can I leave?" she asked.
She was totally going to report this, but that was no reason to be a jerk about it.
"Why were you here?" the girl asked.
Missy licked her lips, but this time she wasn't going to be caught unawares and she could smash through the door's foot-wide window with but a twist of her power. "I'm running for mayor," she said. "Of Brockton Bay."
The girl blinked, then a smile tugged at her lips and she started to laugh.
"Hey!" Missy forgot about her plan to jump out the window in favor of defending herself. They'd already established that there wasn't much to be worried about. What was the other girl going to do? Poke her with a butter knife? So scary. "I really am running for mayor. I was campaigning for votes."
The girl shook her head, hair going everywhere. "No, it's just. I thought you were, but it's just... Wow." She sniffled. "Okay. So Vista wants to become mayor. Okay."
"I told you, I'm not Vista, I'm Missy. Missy Biron." There was no use in hiding her name if she was going to use it to get into an elected position.
The girl smiled again, this time coming across as more than a little sheepish. "Okay, Missy. I'm Taylor. And I'm sorry about, you know." She wiggled the butter knife around.
"It's fine."
"So, uh, why are you running for mayor? Aren't you a Ward? Don't they pay well?"
"They don't." Not that Missy was bitter or anything. "But that's not the point and I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm not Vista," Missy said. "I just want to, you know, make things better."
"Oh." Taylor said before nodding. "That's good. Great even. There are a lot of things that need to be fixed here. So many of them. I think having a hero as a mayor might be cool. A hero and not just another old guy in a suit."
"I know, right?!" Missy agreed fervently. "I'm not done building my, uh, platform yet, or pulling together my funding, but I'm getting there. It's all going to be about making the city a safer place. Being tough on crime." She paused for emphasis. "Extra tough."
"I can get behind that." Taylor nodded. "That's good. The PRT people didn't send an escort with you?"
"I'm not working with the PRT for this. Or for anything else. I'm not Vista, I'm Missy."
"Right. "Do you want some tea, Vista?" Her lips twitched. "… Missy?"
"... fuck it, sure," Missy muttered. "Do you have juice?"
***
So, Blackmarch has become this fic's co-writer. Somehow. I dunno, it was 4am and we might both have been a little inebriated. Anywho~ more Mayor Missy!
Wanted to give a shout-out to Eli who made the bad grammar go away.
- Location
- Russia
Pretty sure it was Doormaker.
- Location
- Russia
If I remember correctly it was Doormaker at first, then he broke and so Taylor used Vista and someone else
I think a combination of Doormaker and Clairvoyant