Ruff 1.5
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Ruff 1.5
"Later, the dog howled loudly. And still later it moved close to the man and caught the smell of death. This made the animal back away. A little longer it delayed, howling under the stars that leaped and danced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned and ran along the trail toward the camp it knew, where there were the other food providers and fire providers," I finished. It was nice to have an appreciative audience, and that was one thing Rachel definitely was. She hadn't interrupted me at all during the story, except a few times to ask questions, and those polite and quiet, as if she were afraid of breaking the spell.
"What a dumbass," she said, as soon as she could tell I was done.
"That's the idea," I said, "and the dog actually knows what's going on, and is smarter than the person, so he goes off and survives."
"I liked it," Rachel admitted, as if this were some sort of guilty secret that I now needed to guard with my life, rather than just an opinion on a work of fiction.
"I thought you would. The dog lives and everything," I said, "it's not really a happy ending, but at the same time, he clearly wasn't cut out for what he was doing."
He'd gone in against the advice of men wiser and older than him, he'd repeatedly failed to show sense or survival instincts, and finally he'd died and his dog had done the smart thing and gotten the hell out of dodge before he died too.
Which was a sort of moral to the story, albeit not the one people usually peddled about dogs.
"Yeah," Rachel said, reaching a hand down to pat Brutus, and then Milk, a pale white dog that always acted pretty calmly, and finally, sniffing up last, Stick, who was probably the thinnest dog she had, to the point that he was definitely going to outgrow that name if he kept on eating as much as he was. "I liked it," she admitted. Then, a pause, "Sorry about your book--"
"It didn't seem too roughed up, the library book," I said.
"It wasn't," Rachel said with a shrug, her cheeks darkening a little. She was scowling a little, and I guessed it had to do something with the reading thing.
"Are you enjoying reading it?" I asked.
Rachel hesitated, and looked at me closely, still pressed up against me, as if she were looking for a hint of mockery. "It's rough."
Rough to read it, I thought. Who the fuck had…
I took a breath, startled by the sudden anger welling up. But someone had let her down, someone had failed her. A lot of someones, starting with schools and ending with parents, but not including herself, not really? "You could practice," I said, gingerly.
"Maybe," she said, with a shrug. Which was about all I was going to get out of her on this.
"So, you're living here all the time, now?"
"They talked to me. Called me," Rachel said, "got a cellphone now. I'll come back at least once every day to check in, get a shower, that sort of shit."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," she said, stretching a little, and then, after a moment, standing up. "I hope they'll stop bothering me."
"Regent was an asshole," I said, with feeling.
"Yep. He's an annoying runt who likes fucking with people," Rachel said in a matter-of-fact way.
The impression I got was almost more frustrating than something more consistent. As if he'd bully someone for a while just because he was bored, get bored of it, and then pick it up later because he was bored. As if, in other words, none of this mattered at all.
"I got that much," I said, shaking my head. "So, Rachel, I do want to leave a little after lunch, because Dad's worried. But I'll be coming back tomorrow, I promise. I just want to make sure he doesn't freak out."
"Yeah, I get that. What happens if he freaks out?"
"I don't know. I mean, what do I do if he forbids me from going out all day on the weekend? I don't think he's like that, but I know that it's been hard for him." Sometimes, a show of force was not a sign of strength, but weakness: an inability to do anything else. If he did immediately jump to that sort of thing, it'd just hurt both of us. It had only been a little more than a week, but I think I was really benefitting from knowing Rachel. Or at least, it felt like I was, and that's what mattered.
We'd have to see.
I let out a sigh, and Rachel said, "Stand up to him."
"I can try, but he's my Dad, I mean… maybe I should just tell him enough of the truth to count?" I thought about that, biting my lip a little bit.
"Like what?"
"I'll figure that out. Not too much," I said, and then stood up myself, "but let's not think too much about this right now. There's still a few hours until I have to get out of there, and Ginger has some fleas, I don't know where she picked them up, because…"
Rachel nodded, apparently grateful for the distraction, and thus encouraged, I started talking about the dogs and their health and mood, parroting things I'd picked up from her, and things I'd noticed myself.
Seeking approval and confirmation that I was on the right track, that I was learning all of this stuff down pat. I didn't talk to her about my Dad, not any more than I had, and I avoided the topic of capes entirely, though I did, towards the end, talk a little about school in a vague, general way. About classes I had and lessons I'd learned. We even exchanged numbers, in case we wanted to talk on the phone at some later point.
She seemed to be paying attention, at least, but reserving her judgment, holding it back in a way I appreciated.
Maybe I'd eventually be able to tell her more without holding it back, without censoring myself out of some fear of looking as if I were doing something wrong.
Eventually.
*******
Dad was waiting for me, again. His shoulders were tense when I stepped in. The television was on, but he immediately turned it off. "Taylor, I got your note." He said it slowly, and then nothing more. Encouraging me to fill the silence with words or an explanation.
"Sorry, I… okay. So, I had a fight with Rachel, that friend of mine, last night. And I was so worried about it that I wanted to make it up with her. I… had nightmares," I said. "So I got up and went jogging, and then visited her about when I normally do."
"You woke up at three in the morning with nightmares, so you went running?" Dad repeated, like he was making sure I didn't want to change my story into something a little more plausible.
"I didn't know what else to do, and… I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was afraid and worried and wanted to patch things up, not let them fester and fall apart like they did with Emma."
Dad blinked, surprised. He had to have guessed that I wasn't as close to Emma as I used to be, since she never came by anymore, and I hadn't slept over at her house in forever, but from the look on his face, he hadn't known that we hadn't simply been drifting apart with time. "You're not friends with Emma anymore?"
"Not since the fall after Mom died. I… I don't know why. She just dropped me," I said, the words bitter, the real truth clawing at my throat. It almost hurt not to tell him that she was the one bullying me, that she was behind the incident, but what would that help? "And I was afraid of that happening again with a new friend. I wasn't thinking."
I really wasn't. I'd been feeling, feeling that pain in my heart and that ache of half-remembered nightmares clustering around me, trying to drag me down.
"Taylor…" Dad said, his voice a sigh, "I wish you'd told me that earlier."
"So, Rachel's my first friend, other than this kid named Greg that I talk about video games with, that I've had in a while. I mean, does what happened to me in January scream 'tons of friends' to you?" My voice came out too hard at the end, because ultimately he'd done all he could, had pushed the school to do something about it, and he'd failed.
I didn't want to say he'd failed me, because I loved him and he'd done all he could. It was just that all he could hadn't been enough, and so now here we were, dealing with impossibilities.
"No. No it doesn't. But you've made a friend, now?"
"I think. I haven't known her for long, but she's nice," I said, "or at least, she's being nice to me. She has some friends she doesn't really like, but has to work with anyways, and she got into an argument with them while I was there. I sorta got caught in the crossfire. But, it's fine." I tried a wide smile and added, "Or at least, we managed to patch things up. We'll see where it goes from there, you know? Take things one day at a time." I took a deep breath and said, "Though, right now I really need to get a shower. I probably smell of dog."
"Probably?"
"I definitely do," I said, seeing the look on his face, and the way Dad's nose wrinkled as he waved his hand back and forth dramatically, the universal sign for 'pee-yew.' "She's really a dog person, and it's kind of nice. Caring for dogs is interesting, but it isn't the sort of thing that can be done without taking plenty of showers."
"That's what you do?" Dad asked, "care for dogs? You said she was dog-sitting…"
"Some of them. And some of them are dogs she already has," I said, my lie not very smooth at all, I realized. "It's just a lot of dogs to deal with. But there's no such thing as a crazy dog lady, and so it's okay."
Dad smiled at my weak joke and said, "So, Taylor, have you had lunch yet?"
"No, actually, I haven't."
"Want to go out for something? Burgers, maybe?"
He was smiling so hopefully that I couldn't say no, not to that look. Dad wanted to make up for the fact that he'd missed something about his daughter's life, and… well. I liked my Dad, not just loved him. It was a distinction with a difference. "Sure, that sounds good."
*******
Saturday night's alright for patrolling.
I went out, ready for a fight. My range, which had temporarily gotten better, had gone back down all the way almost to a low. It was hard to tell why that was, but I needed to keep on going out and keep on patrolling. I'd done a few good things, and now, in the dark of the night, I almost wanted a fight. I'd managed to gather a few more wasps and other bugs, and once summer hit I knew I'd be able to really draw them together.
And if I found a way to keep all of the bugs warm and safe? Perhaps some sort of carrier or whatnot? It was easy for me to keep a beehive, if I actually found one in the first place. I could make sure they didn't sting me when I dealt with it, and it wouldn't be hard to get them the food they needed to keep it up.
It was all about space and money, I thought, pulling on my costume and running a hand through my hair to make sure it was hanging just right. I had an idea, or at least I'd thought about one, for my cape name.
I just needed a chance to show it off. I was a hero, and I was a girl who had a friend, and a loving father. I needed to stop worrying, stop feeling so trapped. It wasn't easy, and when I mentally sat down and tried to hype myself up, it all felt almost hollow.
But I went out anyways, walking as fast as I could. I didn't need to go slow to scan the area, because I made sure I had bugs on everyone. I was starting to realize that I needed to be more proactive, and that meant knowing where everyone was and what everyone was doing so that I could judge the situation ahead of time.
Going up against Victor and Othala had been a mistake, I should have waited to see if there was a chance to ambush them. And I should have been more vicious. Bugs should have flown straight in both of their eyes, maybe down their throats too. I knew that it was vicious, but it was what could help me win a fight without a team.
So I tried to steel myself to do that, when I next got a chance. It might not be tonight, though.
There were a bunch of people gathered in the alley, and… huh.
Someone flying in the sky. A cape? I slowed down. I was in a pretty bad part of town. How bad? I'd passed two payday loan places in the last block. There was a liquor store just down the corner, its bright red neon sign declaring it was open '24/7' and advertising a sale of some kind.
The street stank of cigarette butts and body odor, and I could smell something else I couldn't quite place. The people in the alley were moving all around, going towards what looked like a box, and then back.
And then nearby, there was a pair of people moving. The one on foot was following the flying one I'd noticed earlier, and the only thing that made sense was that it was some kind of patrol. I couldn't quite tell who, but my bugs tried to keep on them. One of my flies buzzed off of the cape on the ground, only to suddenly disappear.
What? I blinked, moving forward as the two groups grew closer, though from the pattern it seemed as if they'd merely pass by, one of them all crowded in a dingy, dark alley, the other looking for trouble.
I hurried forward to try to meet both of them, in case this turned into a fight, and rounded the corner to see who it was. The one flying I recognized for sure. I'd looked up all of the Wards, again and again, not sure if I should try to join them or not. But I'd seen what a system could do, and I'd known what kids could do to other kids. I didn't trust the squeaky-clean online bios that made each and every one of them look like angels sent to earth to help people.
Kid Win was someone hard to miss. His armor was red and gold, and looked a little non-functional, like plates on a bodysuit more than chainmail or plate mail or anything like that, or even anything out of a video game. It looked like the kind of thing a starter player in some science-fiction MMO would wear until they got power armor, but I knew that it was the real deal. So was the visor he had on, which rumor said online was potent tinker-tech.
Of course, rumor online said that everything was potent tinker-tech. It was just like Thinker powers, something where everyone and their grandma could make up whatever they wanted.
He was pale, and riding on a hoverboard, which looked like someone had added glowing red jet bottoms to a regular skateboard, and he had a pair of laser pistols, one in each hand. You could tell they weren't guns by the silver and gold coloration of them, and they reminded me, briefly, of toy guns.
Down below him was Clockblocker, a member of the Wards whose power was to freeze people in time. Like that insect he'd touched, actually. I couldn't see his face to know if he was hostile or friendly, because he wore white armor, complete with plates, and a blank face-mask that looked rather unnerving. The armor was segmented and looked more realistic than Kid Win's, but the clocks that were drawn on at places made it look off, as did the way the larger plates seemed to almost shine in the streetlights. He had both hands up and out, a little cautiously, as if he felt like something was up.
I was nervous, but I stepped towards them, and they saw me and moved forward.
Right into the path of the crowd of people in the alley. Who saw them.
"Hey! Fuck-faces!" a deep male voice yelled, "Fucking wonder kids! I got magic too!"
Kid Win had to dodge out of the way of a thrown bottle, juking right. That didn't seem like a parahuman power at all (or magic for that matter).
Then I heard a bellow, and a huge, pasty-skinned man leapt out of the alley. He had an overabundance of muscle and fat, a thick beard, and he was dressed in rags. The man's eyes, though, were wide and dull, and yet were glowing faintly, unnaturally, red.
A swarm of bugs tore out of the alley to intercept him, and he turned, temporarily distracted, to swipe at the bugs, who died in agony when his fingers brushed up against them.
Which… shouldn't have happened. More bugs slipped past his guard and started stinging him. He didn't even seem to notice as he bellowed and turned back towards Clockblocker and Kid Win.
Meanwhile, the rest of the people in the alley were spilling out behind him, their own eyes glowing different colors, and this was… shit. Red, blue, yellow, green, and then one person in the back whose eyes were glowing white. All in all, there were sixteen people in that one little alley, all cramped together, all glowing oddly.
It looked like some sort of powers thing, but this many people couldn't have powers, could they? There were men and women both, all of them dressed raggedly, though a few looked like it was more along the lines of drug dealer wear than homeless bum wear. All of that combined made me think of the Merchants at once. I started throwing swarms of bugs, drawn from everywhere, right at them.
A few ignored it, especially those with red eyes, but most of them screamed and twisted, moaning and making strange sounds as my bugs threw themselves in suicidal charges at their mouths, in stings towards their eyes that I knew would do some real damage.
The leading man was knocked aside just before he went at Clockblocker by a bright bolt of energy, and yet he stood up a moment later, seemingly completely unharmed.
One of the ones with glowing blue eyes spat out what looked like blackish mist, looking surprised, and other colors seemed to be moving odd, or…
The colors represented powers, perhaps?
I just kept on stinging them, having spiders crawl up their body and bite, and even some of the red-eyed ones began to go down, bellowing. It was sort of a domino effect. Each one that went down seemed to lead to another distraction, another person who didn't know what to do and was afraid enough that some of them were already turning and running, or trying to use super powers that they clearly didn't understand.
I watched someone's arm (red eyes) swell up into something grotesque and ending in claws, only for them to go down screaming. I watched someone summon what looked like a glowing green knife (white), only to start choking on a fly. I watched again and again as this or that power fizzled out in the face of no time to practice or understand them.
In the meantime, while I was halfway distracted taking out most of the others, the leading man had charged at Clockblocker, who just stood there as he got closer and closer. And then Clockblocker dodged to the side, faster than expected, and tagged the man.
And just like that, the few of them still standing were running, and the fight was over. I was surprised how quickly the violence broke out, and I was just as surprised at how quickly it had ended.
"What was that?" I asked, muttering to myself.
"More importantly," Kid Win said, "who are you? What are you doing here?"
"I'm a new hero, I'm patrolling around here, and I saw them ahead of time. Part of my power, really, controlling bugs."
"Right," Clockblocker said, "but what can we call you? Bug Controlling Girl? We'll have to fill out a bunch of reports, and having a name, well. It'll stop my writing hand from cramping." He waved his right hand back and forth.
It'd have come off as playful without the costume. As it was, it just came off as weird. I took a breath, and thought about all of the other names I'd thought about. I wasn't going to find a name I really, really liked, so I might as well go with something at least a little classical.
"You can call me Arachne."
*******
A/N: Thanks to @NemoMarx, and @Great Greedy Guts, my fight-scene choreographer/advisor/etc.
"Later, the dog howled loudly. And still later it moved close to the man and caught the smell of death. This made the animal back away. A little longer it delayed, howling under the stars that leaped and danced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned and ran along the trail toward the camp it knew, where there were the other food providers and fire providers," I finished. It was nice to have an appreciative audience, and that was one thing Rachel definitely was. She hadn't interrupted me at all during the story, except a few times to ask questions, and those polite and quiet, as if she were afraid of breaking the spell.
"What a dumbass," she said, as soon as she could tell I was done.
"That's the idea," I said, "and the dog actually knows what's going on, and is smarter than the person, so he goes off and survives."
"I liked it," Rachel admitted, as if this were some sort of guilty secret that I now needed to guard with my life, rather than just an opinion on a work of fiction.
"I thought you would. The dog lives and everything," I said, "it's not really a happy ending, but at the same time, he clearly wasn't cut out for what he was doing."
He'd gone in against the advice of men wiser and older than him, he'd repeatedly failed to show sense or survival instincts, and finally he'd died and his dog had done the smart thing and gotten the hell out of dodge before he died too.
Which was a sort of moral to the story, albeit not the one people usually peddled about dogs.
"Yeah," Rachel said, reaching a hand down to pat Brutus, and then Milk, a pale white dog that always acted pretty calmly, and finally, sniffing up last, Stick, who was probably the thinnest dog she had, to the point that he was definitely going to outgrow that name if he kept on eating as much as he was. "I liked it," she admitted. Then, a pause, "Sorry about your book--"
"It didn't seem too roughed up, the library book," I said.
"It wasn't," Rachel said with a shrug, her cheeks darkening a little. She was scowling a little, and I guessed it had to do something with the reading thing.
"Are you enjoying reading it?" I asked.
Rachel hesitated, and looked at me closely, still pressed up against me, as if she were looking for a hint of mockery. "It's rough."
Rough to read it, I thought. Who the fuck had…
I took a breath, startled by the sudden anger welling up. But someone had let her down, someone had failed her. A lot of someones, starting with schools and ending with parents, but not including herself, not really? "You could practice," I said, gingerly.
"Maybe," she said, with a shrug. Which was about all I was going to get out of her on this.
"So, you're living here all the time, now?"
"They talked to me. Called me," Rachel said, "got a cellphone now. I'll come back at least once every day to check in, get a shower, that sort of shit."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," she said, stretching a little, and then, after a moment, standing up. "I hope they'll stop bothering me."
"Regent was an asshole," I said, with feeling.
"Yep. He's an annoying runt who likes fucking with people," Rachel said in a matter-of-fact way.
The impression I got was almost more frustrating than something more consistent. As if he'd bully someone for a while just because he was bored, get bored of it, and then pick it up later because he was bored. As if, in other words, none of this mattered at all.
"I got that much," I said, shaking my head. "So, Rachel, I do want to leave a little after lunch, because Dad's worried. But I'll be coming back tomorrow, I promise. I just want to make sure he doesn't freak out."
"Yeah, I get that. What happens if he freaks out?"
"I don't know. I mean, what do I do if he forbids me from going out all day on the weekend? I don't think he's like that, but I know that it's been hard for him." Sometimes, a show of force was not a sign of strength, but weakness: an inability to do anything else. If he did immediately jump to that sort of thing, it'd just hurt both of us. It had only been a little more than a week, but I think I was really benefitting from knowing Rachel. Or at least, it felt like I was, and that's what mattered.
We'd have to see.
I let out a sigh, and Rachel said, "Stand up to him."
"I can try, but he's my Dad, I mean… maybe I should just tell him enough of the truth to count?" I thought about that, biting my lip a little bit.
"Like what?"
"I'll figure that out. Not too much," I said, and then stood up myself, "but let's not think too much about this right now. There's still a few hours until I have to get out of there, and Ginger has some fleas, I don't know where she picked them up, because…"
Rachel nodded, apparently grateful for the distraction, and thus encouraged, I started talking about the dogs and their health and mood, parroting things I'd picked up from her, and things I'd noticed myself.
Seeking approval and confirmation that I was on the right track, that I was learning all of this stuff down pat. I didn't talk to her about my Dad, not any more than I had, and I avoided the topic of capes entirely, though I did, towards the end, talk a little about school in a vague, general way. About classes I had and lessons I'd learned. We even exchanged numbers, in case we wanted to talk on the phone at some later point.
She seemed to be paying attention, at least, but reserving her judgment, holding it back in a way I appreciated.
Maybe I'd eventually be able to tell her more without holding it back, without censoring myself out of some fear of looking as if I were doing something wrong.
Eventually.
*******
Dad was waiting for me, again. His shoulders were tense when I stepped in. The television was on, but he immediately turned it off. "Taylor, I got your note." He said it slowly, and then nothing more. Encouraging me to fill the silence with words or an explanation.
"Sorry, I… okay. So, I had a fight with Rachel, that friend of mine, last night. And I was so worried about it that I wanted to make it up with her. I… had nightmares," I said. "So I got up and went jogging, and then visited her about when I normally do."
"You woke up at three in the morning with nightmares, so you went running?" Dad repeated, like he was making sure I didn't want to change my story into something a little more plausible.
"I didn't know what else to do, and… I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was afraid and worried and wanted to patch things up, not let them fester and fall apart like they did with Emma."
Dad blinked, surprised. He had to have guessed that I wasn't as close to Emma as I used to be, since she never came by anymore, and I hadn't slept over at her house in forever, but from the look on his face, he hadn't known that we hadn't simply been drifting apart with time. "You're not friends with Emma anymore?"
"Not since the fall after Mom died. I… I don't know why. She just dropped me," I said, the words bitter, the real truth clawing at my throat. It almost hurt not to tell him that she was the one bullying me, that she was behind the incident, but what would that help? "And I was afraid of that happening again with a new friend. I wasn't thinking."
I really wasn't. I'd been feeling, feeling that pain in my heart and that ache of half-remembered nightmares clustering around me, trying to drag me down.
"Taylor…" Dad said, his voice a sigh, "I wish you'd told me that earlier."
"So, Rachel's my first friend, other than this kid named Greg that I talk about video games with, that I've had in a while. I mean, does what happened to me in January scream 'tons of friends' to you?" My voice came out too hard at the end, because ultimately he'd done all he could, had pushed the school to do something about it, and he'd failed.
I didn't want to say he'd failed me, because I loved him and he'd done all he could. It was just that all he could hadn't been enough, and so now here we were, dealing with impossibilities.
"No. No it doesn't. But you've made a friend, now?"
"I think. I haven't known her for long, but she's nice," I said, "or at least, she's being nice to me. She has some friends she doesn't really like, but has to work with anyways, and she got into an argument with them while I was there. I sorta got caught in the crossfire. But, it's fine." I tried a wide smile and added, "Or at least, we managed to patch things up. We'll see where it goes from there, you know? Take things one day at a time." I took a deep breath and said, "Though, right now I really need to get a shower. I probably smell of dog."
"Probably?"
"I definitely do," I said, seeing the look on his face, and the way Dad's nose wrinkled as he waved his hand back and forth dramatically, the universal sign for 'pee-yew.' "She's really a dog person, and it's kind of nice. Caring for dogs is interesting, but it isn't the sort of thing that can be done without taking plenty of showers."
"That's what you do?" Dad asked, "care for dogs? You said she was dog-sitting…"
"Some of them. And some of them are dogs she already has," I said, my lie not very smooth at all, I realized. "It's just a lot of dogs to deal with. But there's no such thing as a crazy dog lady, and so it's okay."
Dad smiled at my weak joke and said, "So, Taylor, have you had lunch yet?"
"No, actually, I haven't."
"Want to go out for something? Burgers, maybe?"
He was smiling so hopefully that I couldn't say no, not to that look. Dad wanted to make up for the fact that he'd missed something about his daughter's life, and… well. I liked my Dad, not just loved him. It was a distinction with a difference. "Sure, that sounds good."
*******
Saturday night's alright for patrolling.
I went out, ready for a fight. My range, which had temporarily gotten better, had gone back down all the way almost to a low. It was hard to tell why that was, but I needed to keep on going out and keep on patrolling. I'd done a few good things, and now, in the dark of the night, I almost wanted a fight. I'd managed to gather a few more wasps and other bugs, and once summer hit I knew I'd be able to really draw them together.
And if I found a way to keep all of the bugs warm and safe? Perhaps some sort of carrier or whatnot? It was easy for me to keep a beehive, if I actually found one in the first place. I could make sure they didn't sting me when I dealt with it, and it wouldn't be hard to get them the food they needed to keep it up.
It was all about space and money, I thought, pulling on my costume and running a hand through my hair to make sure it was hanging just right. I had an idea, or at least I'd thought about one, for my cape name.
I just needed a chance to show it off. I was a hero, and I was a girl who had a friend, and a loving father. I needed to stop worrying, stop feeling so trapped. It wasn't easy, and when I mentally sat down and tried to hype myself up, it all felt almost hollow.
But I went out anyways, walking as fast as I could. I didn't need to go slow to scan the area, because I made sure I had bugs on everyone. I was starting to realize that I needed to be more proactive, and that meant knowing where everyone was and what everyone was doing so that I could judge the situation ahead of time.
Going up against Victor and Othala had been a mistake, I should have waited to see if there was a chance to ambush them. And I should have been more vicious. Bugs should have flown straight in both of their eyes, maybe down their throats too. I knew that it was vicious, but it was what could help me win a fight without a team.
So I tried to steel myself to do that, when I next got a chance. It might not be tonight, though.
There were a bunch of people gathered in the alley, and… huh.
Someone flying in the sky. A cape? I slowed down. I was in a pretty bad part of town. How bad? I'd passed two payday loan places in the last block. There was a liquor store just down the corner, its bright red neon sign declaring it was open '24/7' and advertising a sale of some kind.
The street stank of cigarette butts and body odor, and I could smell something else I couldn't quite place. The people in the alley were moving all around, going towards what looked like a box, and then back.
And then nearby, there was a pair of people moving. The one on foot was following the flying one I'd noticed earlier, and the only thing that made sense was that it was some kind of patrol. I couldn't quite tell who, but my bugs tried to keep on them. One of my flies buzzed off of the cape on the ground, only to suddenly disappear.
What? I blinked, moving forward as the two groups grew closer, though from the pattern it seemed as if they'd merely pass by, one of them all crowded in a dingy, dark alley, the other looking for trouble.
I hurried forward to try to meet both of them, in case this turned into a fight, and rounded the corner to see who it was. The one flying I recognized for sure. I'd looked up all of the Wards, again and again, not sure if I should try to join them or not. But I'd seen what a system could do, and I'd known what kids could do to other kids. I didn't trust the squeaky-clean online bios that made each and every one of them look like angels sent to earth to help people.
Kid Win was someone hard to miss. His armor was red and gold, and looked a little non-functional, like plates on a bodysuit more than chainmail or plate mail or anything like that, or even anything out of a video game. It looked like the kind of thing a starter player in some science-fiction MMO would wear until they got power armor, but I knew that it was the real deal. So was the visor he had on, which rumor said online was potent tinker-tech.
Of course, rumor online said that everything was potent tinker-tech. It was just like Thinker powers, something where everyone and their grandma could make up whatever they wanted.
He was pale, and riding on a hoverboard, which looked like someone had added glowing red jet bottoms to a regular skateboard, and he had a pair of laser pistols, one in each hand. You could tell they weren't guns by the silver and gold coloration of them, and they reminded me, briefly, of toy guns.
Down below him was Clockblocker, a member of the Wards whose power was to freeze people in time. Like that insect he'd touched, actually. I couldn't see his face to know if he was hostile or friendly, because he wore white armor, complete with plates, and a blank face-mask that looked rather unnerving. The armor was segmented and looked more realistic than Kid Win's, but the clocks that were drawn on at places made it look off, as did the way the larger plates seemed to almost shine in the streetlights. He had both hands up and out, a little cautiously, as if he felt like something was up.
I was nervous, but I stepped towards them, and they saw me and moved forward.
Right into the path of the crowd of people in the alley. Who saw them.
"Hey! Fuck-faces!" a deep male voice yelled, "Fucking wonder kids! I got magic too!"
Kid Win had to dodge out of the way of a thrown bottle, juking right. That didn't seem like a parahuman power at all (or magic for that matter).
Then I heard a bellow, and a huge, pasty-skinned man leapt out of the alley. He had an overabundance of muscle and fat, a thick beard, and he was dressed in rags. The man's eyes, though, were wide and dull, and yet were glowing faintly, unnaturally, red.
A swarm of bugs tore out of the alley to intercept him, and he turned, temporarily distracted, to swipe at the bugs, who died in agony when his fingers brushed up against them.
Which… shouldn't have happened. More bugs slipped past his guard and started stinging him. He didn't even seem to notice as he bellowed and turned back towards Clockblocker and Kid Win.
Meanwhile, the rest of the people in the alley were spilling out behind him, their own eyes glowing different colors, and this was… shit. Red, blue, yellow, green, and then one person in the back whose eyes were glowing white. All in all, there were sixteen people in that one little alley, all cramped together, all glowing oddly.
It looked like some sort of powers thing, but this many people couldn't have powers, could they? There were men and women both, all of them dressed raggedly, though a few looked like it was more along the lines of drug dealer wear than homeless bum wear. All of that combined made me think of the Merchants at once. I started throwing swarms of bugs, drawn from everywhere, right at them.
A few ignored it, especially those with red eyes, but most of them screamed and twisted, moaning and making strange sounds as my bugs threw themselves in suicidal charges at their mouths, in stings towards their eyes that I knew would do some real damage.
The leading man was knocked aside just before he went at Clockblocker by a bright bolt of energy, and yet he stood up a moment later, seemingly completely unharmed.
One of the ones with glowing blue eyes spat out what looked like blackish mist, looking surprised, and other colors seemed to be moving odd, or…
The colors represented powers, perhaps?
I just kept on stinging them, having spiders crawl up their body and bite, and even some of the red-eyed ones began to go down, bellowing. It was sort of a domino effect. Each one that went down seemed to lead to another distraction, another person who didn't know what to do and was afraid enough that some of them were already turning and running, or trying to use super powers that they clearly didn't understand.
I watched someone's arm (red eyes) swell up into something grotesque and ending in claws, only for them to go down screaming. I watched someone summon what looked like a glowing green knife (white), only to start choking on a fly. I watched again and again as this or that power fizzled out in the face of no time to practice or understand them.
In the meantime, while I was halfway distracted taking out most of the others, the leading man had charged at Clockblocker, who just stood there as he got closer and closer. And then Clockblocker dodged to the side, faster than expected, and tagged the man.
And just like that, the few of them still standing were running, and the fight was over. I was surprised how quickly the violence broke out, and I was just as surprised at how quickly it had ended.
"What was that?" I asked, muttering to myself.
"More importantly," Kid Win said, "who are you? What are you doing here?"
"I'm a new hero, I'm patrolling around here, and I saw them ahead of time. Part of my power, really, controlling bugs."
"Right," Clockblocker said, "but what can we call you? Bug Controlling Girl? We'll have to fill out a bunch of reports, and having a name, well. It'll stop my writing hand from cramping." He waved his right hand back and forth.
It'd have come off as playful without the costume. As it was, it just came off as weird. I took a breath, and thought about all of the other names I'd thought about. I wasn't going to find a name I really, really liked, so I might as well go with something at least a little classical.
"You can call me Arachne."
*******
A/N: Thanks to @NemoMarx, and @Great Greedy Guts, my fight-scene choreographer/advisor/etc.
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