Once upon a time, there was an SI. This SI proceeded, as most do, to upend canon at random...
Violence Is My First Language (Young Justice AU)(Sequel to We Are Legion)
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Whisper 1.0
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
Once upon a time, there was an SI. This SI proceeded, as most do, to upend canon at random, fight like a crazy person, and munchkin the local universe into vast quantities of power.
This SI then found himself shanked in the face by the Spear of Destiny, and his fate is currently unknown. But he left one hell of a mark on the world of Young Justice, and five years after his death, the consequences of his existence have changed things a great deal...
This story is a sequel of sorts to We Are Legion. Reading it is not necessarily required to enjoy this fic, but it may keep you from going 'wtf happened' for some bits of info. If you don't want to read an SI tale, consider this a heavy AU instead, and assume nothing about canon regarding Young Justice Season 2.
Now, let's begin.
Thanks, as always, to my faithful beta readers.
----
1:03 PM MDT, Thursday, August 13th, 2015
Challengerville
The place had changed a lot. It had grown less quiet, mostly. Ruins and rumors really didn't stop people from trying to rebuild when there was something to offer, and, well, Uncle Morah had a lot to offer. Even more than he'd started with. Challengerville was bustling again, mostly research groups and laboratories, with all the amenities of civilization growing up around those profitable places filled with people who needed to eat and amuse themselves just like anyone else.
It was annoying, really. I'd gotten used to this being a quiet place. Not that anything was actually quiet when I used my power.
Still, even with the town in the background, the Mountain itself had remained untouched. The Mountain, and the memorial on it. A trail had gradually been worn into the ground by the few who'd come to see it, but the difficulty of the hike for most- not me, though, Mom's fitness regimen saw to that- kept a lot of them away. The place was deserted.
Good. This was private.
The duffle bag on my back clanks slightly as I set it down in front of the solid block of granite that marked the site. All it takes a moment's thought, and my ears shiver and morph into the batlike form they took when my power activated. Sound spills out, to my eyes visible as a riot of not-color and wild hues.
I hated talking, even after years of tutoring to undo the damage my...what was the thing Mom called him? Ah, right...sperm donor had done to me. It just seemed...off. Inefficient. It was a lot easier to have my power talk for me.
"Hey, uncle," I whisper through my power, bending sound to my will so nobody could hear.
How long had it been since I'd last taken the time to do this? Two years? Three? Too long.
"It's...it's been a while. But...I'm ready. I talked it over with Mom. We're working it out, but identity isn't really an issue. I'm a bit too public for that. Even if nobody knows I have powers...well, I'm still her kid. People would notice me. But we've got a reason for me to move to the town she picked out and nobody will think too much of it. I don't have powers like hers at all, anyway."
I settle back against the marble, and drum my fingers on the duffle bag for a moment.
"I'm still working on the name, but I've got a plan. And I talked to First. So...thank you, for that gift. I guess you kinda knew what I was going to be doing, and what I'd like. It's like you."
I let silence rest for several minutes as I think it over.
"A lot's changed. I don't think you'd recognize the country, by now. Everything you did, heck, everything Dr. Destiny did...it was kind of a wake-up call. The League's bigger...and it's got competition, too. Manchester and the November Five just started up in England last year, and they're not the first. I hope he'll do okay. After Uncle Morah helped with his sister, he's been less of a jerk, but he's still...well, he's a bit like you on the bad days. Prickly."
I couldn't talk like this normally. Too many words, too much effort to keep my brain straight in the process of saying them. But with my power, I just have to think.
"I'll be okay. Mom's been training me. And I think...well, someone has to do it. Cops can't be everywhere. Not even the MIT. And with what you've left for me...I'll be fine."
I smile.
"Better than fine, really."
3:18 PM EDT, Saturday, August 15th
Captain's Hill Apartment Complex
I was regretting asking Mom to not help with moving in. Sure, the fact that her not being here also meant the press wasn't here was a good thing, but I sure felt I could use some super-strength right now. I didn't have that much to move, but it was still frustrating to get done.
Right across the street a new Themysciran women's shelter was being opened, and that was keeping most of the people staring in that direction. The apartment was in Mom's name and she was supposed to live there, about fifteen minutes of her own flight away from the Theymsciran Embassy, but we both knew she'd probably keep doing what she'd been doing for years- working at the Embassy and sleeping on a cot in the back room, or on the Watchtower. Being a hero didn't leave a lot of time for home comforts.
Didn't bother me much, most times. She gave me space when I needed it, and unless the world was actually, literally on fire she'd come spend time with me whenever I needed that instead. Still. Her help would've been great at the moment.
I growl something Ferdinand the Minotaur had once begged me to never repeat in front of Mom under my breath as I finally manage to dig my key out of my pocket while balancing a heavy couple of boxes on my hip with my other arm. Come on…
"Hey, you moving in?"
Gah!
One of the boxes goes flying as I jump at the voice right behind, spinning around. It thuds to the carpeted floor heavily as I try to get my heart rate back under control and look over the girl who'd startled me at the same time.
Caucasian, light brown hair and enough freckles to last a lifetime. About my age, judging from her height, and smiling like she's amused by something.
"You going to keep staring, or what?" she asks. "I can do this all day."
Oh. I'm not blushing as I turn back and finally open the door, then look at her again with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm Sam. And you are…?"
"Cass," I say in my normal voice. "Just moving in."
"Alone?"
"No. Mom's busy, though."
"Oh, cool. Need a hand?"
I consider for a moment, then nod, using the one box I'd managed to keep a hold of to keep the door open. Both of them were filled with books anyway, it's not like they'd suffer for it.
The apartment's pretty nice, all told. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a big living room/kitchen/dining room combination out front, everything in it new. Especially the iron carved in runes on the window frames. That was what really made Mom decide to let me live here- this city was, for all its usual staying-under-the-radar-ness, pretty fast to catch up to magic being a thing rather than just something people like Zatara did for profit and hero work. And that meant keeping some things out.
Sam chatters a lot as we work. I keep quiet, mostly, answering questions. I'm not trying to be rude, it's just...tiring, to even think of saying as much as she has in the past few minutes. She doesn't seem to mind, and I get a lot of information out of her.
We're going to the same school- some middle-of-the-road place named after a local civil servant- and my guess was right about us being the same age. She promises to show me around, since I don't know anyone.
It's...nice. Normal.
With her helping and with me not having that much in the first place, we finish really early. Once I've set the last box down, I roll my shoulders, loosening stressed muscles, and then turn back to her. "So. What's there to do for fun around here?"
Sam considers it. "In Brockton Bay? Probably the Boardwalk."
Sounds like a plan to me.
This SI then found himself shanked in the face by the Spear of Destiny, and his fate is currently unknown. But he left one hell of a mark on the world of Young Justice, and five years after his death, the consequences of his existence have changed things a great deal...
This story is a sequel of sorts to We Are Legion. Reading it is not necessarily required to enjoy this fic, but it may keep you from going 'wtf happened' for some bits of info. If you don't want to read an SI tale, consider this a heavy AU instead, and assume nothing about canon regarding Young Justice Season 2.
Now, let's begin.
Thanks, as always, to my faithful beta readers.
----
1:03 PM MDT, Thursday, August 13th, 2015
Challengerville
The place had changed a lot. It had grown less quiet, mostly. Ruins and rumors really didn't stop people from trying to rebuild when there was something to offer, and, well, Uncle Morah had a lot to offer. Even more than he'd started with. Challengerville was bustling again, mostly research groups and laboratories, with all the amenities of civilization growing up around those profitable places filled with people who needed to eat and amuse themselves just like anyone else.
It was annoying, really. I'd gotten used to this being a quiet place. Not that anything was actually quiet when I used my power.
Still, even with the town in the background, the Mountain itself had remained untouched. The Mountain, and the memorial on it. A trail had gradually been worn into the ground by the few who'd come to see it, but the difficulty of the hike for most- not me, though, Mom's fitness regimen saw to that- kept a lot of them away. The place was deserted.
Good. This was private.
The duffle bag on my back clanks slightly as I set it down in front of the solid block of granite that marked the site. All it takes a moment's thought, and my ears shiver and morph into the batlike form they took when my power activated. Sound spills out, to my eyes visible as a riot of not-color and wild hues.
I hated talking, even after years of tutoring to undo the damage my...what was the thing Mom called him? Ah, right...sperm donor had done to me. It just seemed...off. Inefficient. It was a lot easier to have my power talk for me.
"Hey, uncle," I whisper through my power, bending sound to my will so nobody could hear.
How long had it been since I'd last taken the time to do this? Two years? Three? Too long.
"It's...it's been a while. But...I'm ready. I talked it over with Mom. We're working it out, but identity isn't really an issue. I'm a bit too public for that. Even if nobody knows I have powers...well, I'm still her kid. People would notice me. But we've got a reason for me to move to the town she picked out and nobody will think too much of it. I don't have powers like hers at all, anyway."
I settle back against the marble, and drum my fingers on the duffle bag for a moment.
"I'm still working on the name, but I've got a plan. And I talked to First. So...thank you, for that gift. I guess you kinda knew what I was going to be doing, and what I'd like. It's like you."
I let silence rest for several minutes as I think it over.
"A lot's changed. I don't think you'd recognize the country, by now. Everything you did, heck, everything Dr. Destiny did...it was kind of a wake-up call. The League's bigger...and it's got competition, too. Manchester and the November Five just started up in England last year, and they're not the first. I hope he'll do okay. After Uncle Morah helped with his sister, he's been less of a jerk, but he's still...well, he's a bit like you on the bad days. Prickly."
I couldn't talk like this normally. Too many words, too much effort to keep my brain straight in the process of saying them. But with my power, I just have to think.
"I'll be okay. Mom's been training me. And I think...well, someone has to do it. Cops can't be everywhere. Not even the MIT. And with what you've left for me...I'll be fine."
I smile.
"Better than fine, really."
3:18 PM EDT, Saturday, August 15th
Captain's Hill Apartment Complex
I was regretting asking Mom to not help with moving in. Sure, the fact that her not being here also meant the press wasn't here was a good thing, but I sure felt I could use some super-strength right now. I didn't have that much to move, but it was still frustrating to get done.
Right across the street a new Themysciran women's shelter was being opened, and that was keeping most of the people staring in that direction. The apartment was in Mom's name and she was supposed to live there, about fifteen minutes of her own flight away from the Theymsciran Embassy, but we both knew she'd probably keep doing what she'd been doing for years- working at the Embassy and sleeping on a cot in the back room, or on the Watchtower. Being a hero didn't leave a lot of time for home comforts.
Didn't bother me much, most times. She gave me space when I needed it, and unless the world was actually, literally on fire she'd come spend time with me whenever I needed that instead. Still. Her help would've been great at the moment.
I growl something Ferdinand the Minotaur had once begged me to never repeat in front of Mom under my breath as I finally manage to dig my key out of my pocket while balancing a heavy couple of boxes on my hip with my other arm. Come on…
"Hey, you moving in?"
Gah!
One of the boxes goes flying as I jump at the voice right behind, spinning around. It thuds to the carpeted floor heavily as I try to get my heart rate back under control and look over the girl who'd startled me at the same time.
Caucasian, light brown hair and enough freckles to last a lifetime. About my age, judging from her height, and smiling like she's amused by something.
"You going to keep staring, or what?" she asks. "I can do this all day."
Oh. I'm not blushing as I turn back and finally open the door, then look at her again with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm Sam. And you are…?"
"Cass," I say in my normal voice. "Just moving in."
"Alone?"
"No. Mom's busy, though."
"Oh, cool. Need a hand?"
I consider for a moment, then nod, using the one box I'd managed to keep a hold of to keep the door open. Both of them were filled with books anyway, it's not like they'd suffer for it.
The apartment's pretty nice, all told. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a big living room/kitchen/dining room combination out front, everything in it new. Especially the iron carved in runes on the window frames. That was what really made Mom decide to let me live here- this city was, for all its usual staying-under-the-radar-ness, pretty fast to catch up to magic being a thing rather than just something people like Zatara did for profit and hero work. And that meant keeping some things out.
Sam chatters a lot as we work. I keep quiet, mostly, answering questions. I'm not trying to be rude, it's just...tiring, to even think of saying as much as she has in the past few minutes. She doesn't seem to mind, and I get a lot of information out of her.
We're going to the same school- some middle-of-the-road place named after a local civil servant- and my guess was right about us being the same age. She promises to show me around, since I don't know anyone.
It's...nice. Normal.
With her helping and with me not having that much in the first place, we finish really early. Once I've set the last box down, I roll my shoulders, loosening stressed muscles, and then turn back to her. "So. What's there to do for fun around here?"
Sam considers it. "In Brockton Bay? Probably the Boardwalk."
Sounds like a plan to me.
- Location
- Home
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Oh my!
He never bothered to check if Brockton followed after the shards
He never bothered to check if Brockton followed after the shards
Alex Prior
We are Many
- Location
- A charming, foreign port
I... What?
Okay, sure, Cassie Cain is the new POV character, cool, sweet, she's cool.
Now.
WHAT THE HELL IS BROCKTON BAY DOING ON EARTH-16?
Okay, sure, Cassie Cain is the new POV character, cool, sweet, she's cool.
Now.
WHAT THE HELL IS BROCKTON BAY DOING ON EARTH-16?
Stratagemini
Totally a Fire Ferret.
- Location
- Central Park
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
Huh. I guess if Happy Harbor exists there's no reason a dimensional expy of Brockton can't.
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
*maniacal laughter*
This guy gets it.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Consider that it's more a shout-out than a declaration of who to expect to live there and with what powers. It was a small town until recently, by the prologue's description, so it probably doesn't have the ABB, E88, Merchants, Teeth, or even the B.B. Brigade.
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
Fair 'nuff, see you in a month.
Also true.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
I wonder how different it will be from the one on Earth Bet. Is it just the name, or were some of the characters imported (and if so, which ones)?
Noitaerc
(Nexus Force) (Assembly) (Verified Minifig)
- Location
- Currently stranded on Mata Nui island
Guys, you forgot two things:
-Queen Administrator is still around and lacking an host.
-There may be a Taylor Hebert in this Brockton Bay. And with one of QA's buds there, QA will most likely know the second Cassandra meet (or see) her.
We Are Legion - Episode II: The Return of Skitter/Weaver/Khepri/the Queen of Escalation
The Light won't be stupid to claim "we can take her"... right?
-Queen Administrator is still around and lacking an host.
-There may be a Taylor Hebert in this Brockton Bay. And with one of QA's buds there, QA will most likely know the second Cassandra meet (or see) her.
We Are Legion - Episode II: The Return of Skitter/Weaver/Khepri/the Queen of Escalation
The Light won't be stupid to claim "we can take her"... right?
Omake: Savage Dooms Himself
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
You brought this on yourselves.
-----
"An insect controller?" Savage asked, leaning forward. "That's all?"
He shrugged. "We can take her."
Now why did a chill just run down his spine? Must be a draft somewhere...
------
Whisper 1.1
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
Two in one day, because shorter, punchy chapters are how this is gonna roll, and because I'm inspired.
Many thanks to my beta readers @Segev, @hance1986, and @Monshroud.
----
4:28 PM EDT, Saturday, August 15th
Brockton Bay
We didn't go right away, of course. But Sam practically refused to leave until she'd extracted a promise that within a week we would. Apparently my current, very comfortable wardrobe of blacks and greys wasn't suitable for my complexion. I'd just shrugged and gone along with it, honestly. The less I stood out in a new school in a bad way, the better, honestly.
It was weird. She just barely skirted the edge of being pushy, but it seemed a bit...nice, I guess, to have someone care that much. Artemis, even though she was practically a big sister as far as I was concerned, wasn't exactly someone to ask about stuff like clothes. M'gann was way too caught up in her odd ideas about pop culture, and Zatanna...well, Zatanna wasn't around enough and hadn't been since she quit Kaldur's team. Not exactly a lot of options.
So, yeah. After Sam had gotten her promise, it was up to me to unpack.
After I deal with the basic stuff, like glasses and silverware, I leave Mom's stuff- mostly a few boxes of clothes- untouched, and focus instead on my own share of the load. I'm mostly just glad the furniture got moved in beforehand. Trying to move a bed or couch would've probably near-killed me, even with Sam helping.
I smile as I set a life-sized bronze mouse on the top shelf of the bookcase, having to stand on tiptoe to reach it. Garfield had gone through a clockwork phase at one point, and that had been one of the results. I mostly kept it unwound for one reason- it tended to act like a wild mouse as well as move like one, and while it had never bitten me it was a lot less nice to everyone else. Even the person who'd made it, funnily enough.
Most of the other things that went on the top shelf were more sentimental- rocks with fossils in them, a few trophies from martial arts competitions, and a very large curved knife that I'd gotten from Io on my second visit to Themyscira. I still wasn't sure I wanted to use the thing. I knew how, but I preferred something less likely to kill someone.
Uncle Legion had done that, sure...but he'd fought far worse people than I'd likely be dealing with.
The other three shelves get filled with books. Reading was a lot easier than speaking for me, and I guess it showed. Most of it was historical stuff and dense reading, but I had my guilty pleasures in the form of two giant collected volumes of The Walking Dead, and enough fantasy to take up half of one of the shelves besides.
A real pity they never got the show running…
The door to the apartment opens.
"Cass?" Mom asks, her voice distinctive even without my power to dissect every element of it. "You here?"
"Setting up," I call back. "Yours still needs to be." I put down the book I'd been shelving, walking back out into the apartment proper.
Mom's in her 'Diana' getup, a charcoal grey suit and slacks, hair up in a bun. A little intimidating and also just average enough people would tend to overlook her in a crowd, even with her figure. Probably why I can't hear the press outside the building anymore, too, if she'd slipped away and changed before coming here.
She smiles when she sees me, and I smile back.
"You work fast."
I shrug. "Had help."
"One of the neighbors?"
A nod. "Name's Sam. She was...nice."
Mom arches an eyebrow. "Making new friends already, I see."
Not really sure if she counts as a friend yet, but I nod anyway. "Same school, apparently. Might go shopping, later."
"I don't suppose I need to tell you to stay safe."
"Nope."
"Good." Mom picks up her stack of boxes and heads into the larger bedroom. While she does that, I grab a glass and fill it with water, following her into the room. Mom blinks as I hand her the glass.
"Thank you," she says, not questioning how I knew she needed the hydration.
She drains the glass, then chuckles to herself. "You know, when my mother decided to start making contact with Man's World again, I didn't think it would involve so many speeches. At least Orin's in the same boat."
I have to smile at that. Uncle Legion would probably find it hilarious how much work he'd made for Mom and Aquaman by opening up magic to the public.
I head back to my room before Mom can keep grousing, and finish shelving the last of my books before getting out my laptop. It's a gift from Uncle Morah, and it probably would drive a tech geek insane with envy, but all I know is it's never slowed down and I'm eighty percent sure he snuck an AI onto the thing when I wasn't looking with how things arrange themselves on the screen depending on what I use. I crack my knuckles as it boots up.
Time to do research.
Google reveals quite a lot very quickly.
The major organization in town is the local Mob. They're almost a parody of themselves- guys in suits, leg-breakers, capos and consiglieres and all the other Italian bullshit. Nobody's sure if they've got any metahumans or magical power on their side, mostly because they're old, wealthy, and quiet. Rumor has it money laundering and illegal gambling are their big deals.
There's two up-and-comers. One's obvious, the other is a bit more difficult and something I can only ferret out because Mom's let me access part of the League's files. The obvious one is what everyone calls the Cartel. Their business is, again, obvious- drug shipping, helped along by the growing sea trade. The reason they're obvious?
Well, their alleged boss calls himself 'Snowflame' and is fond of riding a motorcycle while screaming the word 'cocaine' at the top of his lungs whenever he has to break some legs, so it'd be more difficult not to notice him.
The secretive one is the one that scares me. It's nothing more than rumors and whispers right now, but if Papa Midnight really is starting to expand from New York into Brockton...people would have a lot to worry about.
And so would I.
7:05 PM EDT
Hall of Justice
While a few good-sized chunks of the Hall- like the displays, and a few of the unsecure common rooms- could be viewed by tourists, a lot of it was deep underground. Like the training rooms.
I tap my foot impatiently, power activated, watching the echoes bounce off the walls as I think it over.
Uncle Legion's gift...it was impressive, to say the least. But the way he'd designed it...I'd read the notes he'd attached, and the ones First had added as he'd improved on the thing over the years. It...scared me, a little. I'd admit that.
Still. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained. And there was no way Uncle Legion, or First, would design something that would actually be harmful. Well, harmful to me.
Decision made, I headed for the locker, carrying the black duffle with me.
Once inside, and when I'm sure the door is closed and I'm alone, I unzip the duffle bag, taking out a solid, heavily reinforced black box and several pieces of metal, before shucking off the outer layers of my clothes. The overly air-conditioned room raises goosebumps.
Let's get this over with.
The metal bits are easy enough- odd little gauntlets, only reaching down to the first knuckle, and a set of sabatons, as well as a neck torc, all of it the same dark grey metal. The other pieces I leave be, before opening the box. A glass container, heavily padded and filled with black goop, is the only thing in there. I twist off the top, and activate my power, directing sound into it as First had instructed.
The black liquid bubbles, then leaps into my waiting hands, pattering on the gauntlets and using them as a point to gain traction, spreading across my body rapidly. It's almost uncomfortably warm, but that sensation fades quickly as it spreads up my bare arms, solidifying quickly into recognizable armor. In a few seconds, it covers my entire body, metal included, only stopping at the neck where the torc rests. Alright. Next bit. Breastplate, layered shoulder armor, and a pair of curved pieces I fit behind my transfigured ears. The goop grabs on to the first two, covering them and making them the same black color as the rest of me, but it doesn't move up to the earpieces. And it won't until I order it to.
Huh. For all that First talked about it, I really don't feel any different, with it on.
I flick a finger into one of the lockers, absent-mindedly.
It sinks at least an inch deep, tearing right through the thin metal, and I stare. Then I grin.
I'm still not sure why Uncle Legion named this thing Arata, and why he only did that in the development notes rather than the finished bits he put together. But if it can do that, it definitely deserves a name. Names have power, now more than ever.
I pack everything else back into the duffle bag and head back out into the training room, walking towards the heavy weights.
Time to see just what my uncle had in mind for my inheritance.
Many thanks to my beta readers @Segev, @hance1986, and @Monshroud.
----
4:28 PM EDT, Saturday, August 15th
Brockton Bay
We didn't go right away, of course. But Sam practically refused to leave until she'd extracted a promise that within a week we would. Apparently my current, very comfortable wardrobe of blacks and greys wasn't suitable for my complexion. I'd just shrugged and gone along with it, honestly. The less I stood out in a new school in a bad way, the better, honestly.
It was weird. She just barely skirted the edge of being pushy, but it seemed a bit...nice, I guess, to have someone care that much. Artemis, even though she was practically a big sister as far as I was concerned, wasn't exactly someone to ask about stuff like clothes. M'gann was way too caught up in her odd ideas about pop culture, and Zatanna...well, Zatanna wasn't around enough and hadn't been since she quit Kaldur's team. Not exactly a lot of options.
So, yeah. After Sam had gotten her promise, it was up to me to unpack.
After I deal with the basic stuff, like glasses and silverware, I leave Mom's stuff- mostly a few boxes of clothes- untouched, and focus instead on my own share of the load. I'm mostly just glad the furniture got moved in beforehand. Trying to move a bed or couch would've probably near-killed me, even with Sam helping.
I smile as I set a life-sized bronze mouse on the top shelf of the bookcase, having to stand on tiptoe to reach it. Garfield had gone through a clockwork phase at one point, and that had been one of the results. I mostly kept it unwound for one reason- it tended to act like a wild mouse as well as move like one, and while it had never bitten me it was a lot less nice to everyone else. Even the person who'd made it, funnily enough.
Most of the other things that went on the top shelf were more sentimental- rocks with fossils in them, a few trophies from martial arts competitions, and a very large curved knife that I'd gotten from Io on my second visit to Themyscira. I still wasn't sure I wanted to use the thing. I knew how, but I preferred something less likely to kill someone.
Uncle Legion had done that, sure...but he'd fought far worse people than I'd likely be dealing with.
The other three shelves get filled with books. Reading was a lot easier than speaking for me, and I guess it showed. Most of it was historical stuff and dense reading, but I had my guilty pleasures in the form of two giant collected volumes of The Walking Dead, and enough fantasy to take up half of one of the shelves besides.
A real pity they never got the show running…
The door to the apartment opens.
"Cass?" Mom asks, her voice distinctive even without my power to dissect every element of it. "You here?"
"Setting up," I call back. "Yours still needs to be." I put down the book I'd been shelving, walking back out into the apartment proper.
Mom's in her 'Diana' getup, a charcoal grey suit and slacks, hair up in a bun. A little intimidating and also just average enough people would tend to overlook her in a crowd, even with her figure. Probably why I can't hear the press outside the building anymore, too, if she'd slipped away and changed before coming here.
She smiles when she sees me, and I smile back.
"You work fast."
I shrug. "Had help."
"One of the neighbors?"
A nod. "Name's Sam. She was...nice."
Mom arches an eyebrow. "Making new friends already, I see."
Not really sure if she counts as a friend yet, but I nod anyway. "Same school, apparently. Might go shopping, later."
"I don't suppose I need to tell you to stay safe."
"Nope."
"Good." Mom picks up her stack of boxes and heads into the larger bedroom. While she does that, I grab a glass and fill it with water, following her into the room. Mom blinks as I hand her the glass.
"Thank you," she says, not questioning how I knew she needed the hydration.
She drains the glass, then chuckles to herself. "You know, when my mother decided to start making contact with Man's World again, I didn't think it would involve so many speeches. At least Orin's in the same boat."
I have to smile at that. Uncle Legion would probably find it hilarious how much work he'd made for Mom and Aquaman by opening up magic to the public.
I head back to my room before Mom can keep grousing, and finish shelving the last of my books before getting out my laptop. It's a gift from Uncle Morah, and it probably would drive a tech geek insane with envy, but all I know is it's never slowed down and I'm eighty percent sure he snuck an AI onto the thing when I wasn't looking with how things arrange themselves on the screen depending on what I use. I crack my knuckles as it boots up.
Time to do research.
Google reveals quite a lot very quickly.
The major organization in town is the local Mob. They're almost a parody of themselves- guys in suits, leg-breakers, capos and consiglieres and all the other Italian bullshit. Nobody's sure if they've got any metahumans or magical power on their side, mostly because they're old, wealthy, and quiet. Rumor has it money laundering and illegal gambling are their big deals.
There's two up-and-comers. One's obvious, the other is a bit more difficult and something I can only ferret out because Mom's let me access part of the League's files. The obvious one is what everyone calls the Cartel. Their business is, again, obvious- drug shipping, helped along by the growing sea trade. The reason they're obvious?
Well, their alleged boss calls himself 'Snowflame' and is fond of riding a motorcycle while screaming the word 'cocaine' at the top of his lungs whenever he has to break some legs, so it'd be more difficult not to notice him.
The secretive one is the one that scares me. It's nothing more than rumors and whispers right now, but if Papa Midnight really is starting to expand from New York into Brockton...people would have a lot to worry about.
And so would I.
7:05 PM EDT
Hall of Justice
While a few good-sized chunks of the Hall- like the displays, and a few of the unsecure common rooms- could be viewed by tourists, a lot of it was deep underground. Like the training rooms.
I tap my foot impatiently, power activated, watching the echoes bounce off the walls as I think it over.
Uncle Legion's gift...it was impressive, to say the least. But the way he'd designed it...I'd read the notes he'd attached, and the ones First had added as he'd improved on the thing over the years. It...scared me, a little. I'd admit that.
Still. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained. And there was no way Uncle Legion, or First, would design something that would actually be harmful. Well, harmful to me.
Decision made, I headed for the locker, carrying the black duffle with me.
Once inside, and when I'm sure the door is closed and I'm alone, I unzip the duffle bag, taking out a solid, heavily reinforced black box and several pieces of metal, before shucking off the outer layers of my clothes. The overly air-conditioned room raises goosebumps.
Let's get this over with.
The metal bits are easy enough- odd little gauntlets, only reaching down to the first knuckle, and a set of sabatons, as well as a neck torc, all of it the same dark grey metal. The other pieces I leave be, before opening the box. A glass container, heavily padded and filled with black goop, is the only thing in there. I twist off the top, and activate my power, directing sound into it as First had instructed.
The black liquid bubbles, then leaps into my waiting hands, pattering on the gauntlets and using them as a point to gain traction, spreading across my body rapidly. It's almost uncomfortably warm, but that sensation fades quickly as it spreads up my bare arms, solidifying quickly into recognizable armor. In a few seconds, it covers my entire body, metal included, only stopping at the neck where the torc rests. Alright. Next bit. Breastplate, layered shoulder armor, and a pair of curved pieces I fit behind my transfigured ears. The goop grabs on to the first two, covering them and making them the same black color as the rest of me, but it doesn't move up to the earpieces. And it won't until I order it to.
Huh. For all that First talked about it, I really don't feel any different, with it on.
I flick a finger into one of the lockers, absent-mindedly.
It sinks at least an inch deep, tearing right through the thin metal, and I stare. Then I grin.
I'm still not sure why Uncle Legion named this thing Arata, and why he only did that in the development notes rather than the finished bits he put together. But if it can do that, it definitely deserves a name. Names have power, now more than ever.
I pack everything else back into the duffle bag and head back out into the training room, walking towards the heavy weights.
Time to see just what my uncle had in mind for my inheritance.
Stratagemini
Totally a Fire Ferret.
- Location
- Central Park
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
Is that a Tokyo Ghoul Reference? Huh. I'm surprised he didn't name it Venom.
- Location
- texas
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Nah, as far as we know it can't do the cool mouth thing
Last edited:
Whisper 1.2
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
As always, thanks to my betas @Segev, @hance1986, and @Monshroud.
----
7:06 PM EDT
Hall of Justice
"Hiya!" The heavy-bag rocks back on its flexible stand, anchored by the enormously heavy weights in the base, and I grin. Sure, pretty much anyone with actual super strength could've sent it flying with the same punch. But nobody normal could've made it so much as budge.
This armor was incredible. I was faster, stronger, and- though I was afraid to fully test its alleged limits- way tougher. The microscopic colonies Uncle Legion had bred and First had improved upon fed on kinetic energy and sonic energy, especially certain frequencies only I could create. That alone made them fairly effective, even if someone had just stuck them in a box and used them as armor, but what really made them special was the way they responded to ultrasonic frequencies, far, far beyond the range of hearing. Ones that I could make, and that they could, too, an odd, but appropriate way of communicating. They quite literally danced to my tune, and sang right back.
I grin wider as I keep hitting the bag, enjoying the impact of the armor's gauntlets against padded material, the microbes retreating from the metallic pieces to let me hit with full force in response to a single brief note.
With my powers active, I easily hear the door to the training rooms open, and it's even easier to make out exactly who the two walking in are.
"Wally. Artemis," I say politely before I turn to face them.
"Okay, seriously, how the hell do you do that?" the Flash's nephew asks.
"Footsteps," I answer cheerfully.
It's true, if not the whole answer. Everyone's got their own sounds, the minute and almost indistinguishable differences in how they walk, what they wear, the pace and sound of their breathing. Add it all up, and if it's someone I know, I don't even have to look to identify them.
Both of them are in costume. Wally's updated his again, changing it in color to match his uncle's this time, which I approve of. Looks a lot better than bright yellow. And now he's got all his formulas and potions on a bandolier and on his belt, where they can't get caught on something, unlike the shoulder bag he was using a month ago. Artemis looks the same as she always has, dark green with just enough body armor to be sensible. No weapons, save a large knife at her hip, but then again she never needed them.
"New look?" Artemis asks.
I smile. "Inheritance," I reply, enunciating carefully.
She pauses at that, then smiles. "Good on you, little sis."
"So, gonna join the Team, or what?" Wally asks.
I stare at him.
"Okay, death glare means no, got it. Still, you're sure you're ready?"
My smile is a lot less nice than the one I gave Artemis. "Spar to prove it?" I ask, sugar-sweet. "No powers."
Wally holds up his hands, still smiling. "No thanks, kid. I know you could kick my butt if I wasn't using my speed. And you've already got that armor on, and I really don't feel like being a test dummy, sorry."
Artemis punches him in the shoulder softly. "Fine, you big baby. Come on, sis."
I follow her to the center of the room, while she activates a set of holographic projectors set up in the floor, setting up the ring. Flat terrain, nothing really special, just the normal recording bits.
"Why are you here?" I ask as she starts to stretch.
"Batman wanted to talk to us."
"Why?"
"Asked us not to say, yet," she replies.
Hmph. Fine.
I drop into a ready stance when she finishes her stretches, and she mirrors me.
Off from the sidelines, I hear Wally start eating popcorn. Jerk. No idea what Artemis sees in him.
Artemis nods, and we begin.
Artemis is fast- the suit doesn't do anything to help my reflexes, and so she's faster than me even if I'm stronger- and she fights up close and personal, and dirty. But I know how she moves, and so the hand-to-hand degenerates in seconds to a flurry of grappling moves and counters, fists and elbows and knees, until I finally manage to jump back, the strength of the armor sending me farther than I'd intended. The moment of breathing room is all I need to get my bearings and start hitting back hard, focusing on boxing moves. Bad for someone of my build normally, but strength covers a multitude of sins.
It doesn't cover against overextending yourself, though, and though it's a fraction of an inch too far, Artemis takes advantage instantly, sending me slamming onto the ground on my back.
'FAIL: ----', the hologram reads, floating over my head like its trying to tease me.
"No name, still?" Artemis asks as she gives me a hand up.
I shrug. "Good ones are taken."
She chuckles. "Alright, sis. Just don't wait too long, or someone will come up with one for you. How d'you think Wally got stuck with 'Kid' Flash?"
Wally swallows his mouthful of popcorn. "Still blame Cold for that one," he mutters.
We both laugh at that, and I keep smiling. "Got to change. See you later?"
"Sure," Artemis responds. "Call us any time."
1:01 PM EDT, Monday, August 17th
Brockton Bay
When the knock on the door sounds, I get to my feet carefully, like I haven't been practically bouncing off the walls from nervousness ever since Sam asked if she could bring friends over. I shouldn't be nervous- meeting new people was going to happen anyway- but I am.
Deep breaths, Cassandra. You can do this. Just don't mention Mom's work, the last thing I need is a fan club. I mean, they'll figure it out eventually, but don't lead with that.
I open the door, putting on a smile.
"Hey, Cass!" Sam chirps. "Thanks for letting us hang out."
I nod, and step aside to let the three of them enter. As they do, I take note of the two I don't yet know.
One is tall and lean, almost absurdly so, close-cropped black hair and bags under his eyes standing out against pale skin. Even so, he moves like a fighter, always on guard, which is at odds with the lazy smile on his face, and the lack of calluses or scars on his hands.
The other is less muscular, more timid, skin a beigish shade, dark brown hair pulled back in dreadlocks.
Both are dressed casually, t-shirts and shorts, but the one with the dreadlocks definitely has a knife in his pocket. The giant seems unarmed. Probably doesn't usually need it. Sam herself looks largely the same as she had a couple days ago, save different clothes.
"So! Everyone, meet Cass. Cass, this is Law-" Sam points to the beanstalk- "-and Isaac."
"Heya," the new-named 'Law' rumbles, extending a hand, which I shake. "Welcome to the 'Sam makes friends like an octopus' club," he adds. "Seriously, she just keeps latching on to people."
"Hush, I'm not that bad."
"You literally met me in the process of punching out a guy twice your size who happened to be giving me trouble, and then offering to teach me to, and I quote, 'punch them in the face like their dads should've when they started being this way'," Isaac says, just loud enough to be heard. "And then you introduced me to Law."
I laugh, and Sam stares for a moment before her smile widens. "There we go! Knew there had to be something you found funny."
"I find a lot of things funny," I protest. "You just haven't know me long."
It's Law who laughs at that. "She's got you there, Sam."
While Sam rolls her eyes, I close the door. "So. Mom's at work. Should show you around, probably."
"Sure!" Sam says.
She's practically bouncing. Is her blood entirely caffeine or something?
Still, it's an apartment, and it really doesn't take that long to cover the entire place.
Law nods at my competition trophies. "You still fight?"
I shrug. "I dabble. Muay thai, jiu jitsu. You?"
Okay, that grin is legitimately terrifying, even more than my uncle's. "Savate, kinda," Law says. "Got to keep my hands in good shape, you get me?"
"No."
"Oh, right. I'm hoping to be a surgeon. Can't do that if I've fucked up my fingers on some asshole's jaw."
Huh. That explains the lack of calluses. I nod. "Good choice. Where?"
"Eh, mostly self-taught," Law admits. "Had an instructor for a bit, then he had to leave town. Met Sam at the same place. We keep each other sharp."
"And I'm apparently the training dummy," Isaac says with good-natured grouchiness.
I try to picture Sam kicking and fighting, and can't. She's too...cute. Even with what Isaac said earlier.
"Looking for a fourth?" I ask.
Sam's ever-present smile widens. "Knew there was a reason I liked you," she says.
----
7:06 PM EDT
Hall of Justice
"Hiya!" The heavy-bag rocks back on its flexible stand, anchored by the enormously heavy weights in the base, and I grin. Sure, pretty much anyone with actual super strength could've sent it flying with the same punch. But nobody normal could've made it so much as budge.
This armor was incredible. I was faster, stronger, and- though I was afraid to fully test its alleged limits- way tougher. The microscopic colonies Uncle Legion had bred and First had improved upon fed on kinetic energy and sonic energy, especially certain frequencies only I could create. That alone made them fairly effective, even if someone had just stuck them in a box and used them as armor, but what really made them special was the way they responded to ultrasonic frequencies, far, far beyond the range of hearing. Ones that I could make, and that they could, too, an odd, but appropriate way of communicating. They quite literally danced to my tune, and sang right back.
I grin wider as I keep hitting the bag, enjoying the impact of the armor's gauntlets against padded material, the microbes retreating from the metallic pieces to let me hit with full force in response to a single brief note.
With my powers active, I easily hear the door to the training rooms open, and it's even easier to make out exactly who the two walking in are.
"Wally. Artemis," I say politely before I turn to face them.
"Okay, seriously, how the hell do you do that?" the Flash's nephew asks.
"Footsteps," I answer cheerfully.
It's true, if not the whole answer. Everyone's got their own sounds, the minute and almost indistinguishable differences in how they walk, what they wear, the pace and sound of their breathing. Add it all up, and if it's someone I know, I don't even have to look to identify them.
Both of them are in costume. Wally's updated his again, changing it in color to match his uncle's this time, which I approve of. Looks a lot better than bright yellow. And now he's got all his formulas and potions on a bandolier and on his belt, where they can't get caught on something, unlike the shoulder bag he was using a month ago. Artemis looks the same as she always has, dark green with just enough body armor to be sensible. No weapons, save a large knife at her hip, but then again she never needed them.
"New look?" Artemis asks.
I smile. "Inheritance," I reply, enunciating carefully.
She pauses at that, then smiles. "Good on you, little sis."
"So, gonna join the Team, or what?" Wally asks.
I stare at him.
"Okay, death glare means no, got it. Still, you're sure you're ready?"
My smile is a lot less nice than the one I gave Artemis. "Spar to prove it?" I ask, sugar-sweet. "No powers."
Wally holds up his hands, still smiling. "No thanks, kid. I know you could kick my butt if I wasn't using my speed. And you've already got that armor on, and I really don't feel like being a test dummy, sorry."
Artemis punches him in the shoulder softly. "Fine, you big baby. Come on, sis."
I follow her to the center of the room, while she activates a set of holographic projectors set up in the floor, setting up the ring. Flat terrain, nothing really special, just the normal recording bits.
"Why are you here?" I ask as she starts to stretch.
"Batman wanted to talk to us."
"Why?"
"Asked us not to say, yet," she replies.
Hmph. Fine.
I drop into a ready stance when she finishes her stretches, and she mirrors me.
Off from the sidelines, I hear Wally start eating popcorn. Jerk. No idea what Artemis sees in him.
Artemis nods, and we begin.
Artemis is fast- the suit doesn't do anything to help my reflexes, and so she's faster than me even if I'm stronger- and she fights up close and personal, and dirty. But I know how she moves, and so the hand-to-hand degenerates in seconds to a flurry of grappling moves and counters, fists and elbows and knees, until I finally manage to jump back, the strength of the armor sending me farther than I'd intended. The moment of breathing room is all I need to get my bearings and start hitting back hard, focusing on boxing moves. Bad for someone of my build normally, but strength covers a multitude of sins.
It doesn't cover against overextending yourself, though, and though it's a fraction of an inch too far, Artemis takes advantage instantly, sending me slamming onto the ground on my back.
'FAIL: ----', the hologram reads, floating over my head like its trying to tease me.
"No name, still?" Artemis asks as she gives me a hand up.
I shrug. "Good ones are taken."
She chuckles. "Alright, sis. Just don't wait too long, or someone will come up with one for you. How d'you think Wally got stuck with 'Kid' Flash?"
Wally swallows his mouthful of popcorn. "Still blame Cold for that one," he mutters.
We both laugh at that, and I keep smiling. "Got to change. See you later?"
"Sure," Artemis responds. "Call us any time."
1:01 PM EDT, Monday, August 17th
Brockton Bay
When the knock on the door sounds, I get to my feet carefully, like I haven't been practically bouncing off the walls from nervousness ever since Sam asked if she could bring friends over. I shouldn't be nervous- meeting new people was going to happen anyway- but I am.
Deep breaths, Cassandra. You can do this. Just don't mention Mom's work, the last thing I need is a fan club. I mean, they'll figure it out eventually, but don't lead with that.
I open the door, putting on a smile.
"Hey, Cass!" Sam chirps. "Thanks for letting us hang out."
I nod, and step aside to let the three of them enter. As they do, I take note of the two I don't yet know.
One is tall and lean, almost absurdly so, close-cropped black hair and bags under his eyes standing out against pale skin. Even so, he moves like a fighter, always on guard, which is at odds with the lazy smile on his face, and the lack of calluses or scars on his hands.
The other is less muscular, more timid, skin a beigish shade, dark brown hair pulled back in dreadlocks.
Both are dressed casually, t-shirts and shorts, but the one with the dreadlocks definitely has a knife in his pocket. The giant seems unarmed. Probably doesn't usually need it. Sam herself looks largely the same as she had a couple days ago, save different clothes.
"So! Everyone, meet Cass. Cass, this is Law-" Sam points to the beanstalk- "-and Isaac."
"Heya," the new-named 'Law' rumbles, extending a hand, which I shake. "Welcome to the 'Sam makes friends like an octopus' club," he adds. "Seriously, she just keeps latching on to people."
"Hush, I'm not that bad."
"You literally met me in the process of punching out a guy twice your size who happened to be giving me trouble, and then offering to teach me to, and I quote, 'punch them in the face like their dads should've when they started being this way'," Isaac says, just loud enough to be heard. "And then you introduced me to Law."
I laugh, and Sam stares for a moment before her smile widens. "There we go! Knew there had to be something you found funny."
"I find a lot of things funny," I protest. "You just haven't know me long."
It's Law who laughs at that. "She's got you there, Sam."
While Sam rolls her eyes, I close the door. "So. Mom's at work. Should show you around, probably."
"Sure!" Sam says.
She's practically bouncing. Is her blood entirely caffeine or something?
Still, it's an apartment, and it really doesn't take that long to cover the entire place.
Law nods at my competition trophies. "You still fight?"
I shrug. "I dabble. Muay thai, jiu jitsu. You?"
Okay, that grin is legitimately terrifying, even more than my uncle's. "Savate, kinda," Law says. "Got to keep my hands in good shape, you get me?"
"No."
"Oh, right. I'm hoping to be a surgeon. Can't do that if I've fucked up my fingers on some asshole's jaw."
Huh. That explains the lack of calluses. I nod. "Good choice. Where?"
"Eh, mostly self-taught," Law admits. "Had an instructor for a bit, then he had to leave town. Met Sam at the same place. We keep each other sharp."
"And I'm apparently the training dummy," Isaac says with good-natured grouchiness.
I try to picture Sam kicking and fighting, and can't. She's too...cute. Even with what Isaac said earlier.
"Looking for a fourth?" I ask.
Sam's ever-present smile widens. "Knew there was a reason I liked you," she says.
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
I had to think for a bit after seeing the name 'Snowflame' and thought, "Wasn't he the guy that got his powers from doing cocaine?"
Comic book powers can be pretty strange at times. His, however.... *facepalm*
Comic book powers can be pretty strange at times. His, however.... *facepalm*
Hestia&theCourt
Turns out we're plural too.
- Location
- In transition
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Oh, it's worse than that. If memory serves, at least one version of him worshipped cocaine. As in, Cocaine was a minor goddess associated with the drug, and he considered drug dealing to be an evangelical duty.
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
Oh yeah, I checked just after posting and saw that too. I didn't care enough to modify my post because I was too annoyed and amused how comics can be so incredibly ridiculous.
Ragnarok101
Occasionally decent writer
- Location
- North Carolina
I will happily confirm that this version of Snowflame is engaged in similar activity.
- Location
- texas
It's been a while since I read New Guardians but if memory serves he basically worshipped cocaine directly.
The fact that the Incan goddess Cocomama, goddess of health and happiness, turned into the first coca plant in Incan myth might just be a funny coincidence, or just inspiration for the character, she never got mentioned however.
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Looks to be interesting. I wish you'd put in a bit more of what she reads from body language, since she should still have that ability even if it's slightly atrophied, but I can understand it might be tough to write, too.
Looking forward to more.
Looking forward to more.
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
No... it's not Vinsmoke Sanji. As much as I might want it to be, it's not him.
