6.29 Rubicon
16th of May, 2011
"I don't get you."
I pause just as I am about to enter my bedroom, my hand on the doorknob, and look over my shoulder.
"...Who even starts a conversation like that?" I ask, genuinely puzzled, and my social battery running a little low after an entire day of getting stared at, "Like, seriously?"
Emma scowls as she stands at the threshold from her own room, quite obviously having managed to come back from Clarendon before me. She even got rid of her own uniform – on loan – for something more comfortable to wear.
I close my eyes and sigh, before ultimately shaking my head and opening the door, shrugging off my schoolbag in the motion. Whatever the hell this is, there are nine odds out of ten that I want nothing to do with it.
I barely have taken five steps inside that my ears twitch as I quite literally hear her coming.
"You make no sense," my cousin bulldozes into my room, arms crossed defensively in front of herself, almost like the attitude is an armor in itself, "You– You're strong. You're the one in a million cape, some kind of Hero reborn, yet–"
"Let me guess," I roll my eyes while dropping my schoolbag onto my desk chair, before fully turning myself her way, my visible eyebrow raised in a rather unimpressed manner, "I don't act like it?"
"Exactly!" she gestures wildly while stepping inside the room, "You took down the Slaughterhouse Nine! Alone! And after that you act like it's not a big deal, but get in a tizzy about going to Vista's birthday party!"
"She's my friend," I frown, "And a birthday is supposed to be a happy thing."
"But– But you're over her!" she sputters, and I feel my expression turn a little plastic at that, "You even beat her! in public! And–"
"And nothing," I answer a little frostily, "Besides, I didn't beat her; I played a prank on her by exploiting one of her weaknesses. Unless the fancy one day takes her to ask for a spar, I'm not fighting my friend."
"That's not how it looked like from the outside and you know it," she scoffs, "There are at least three different videos of you taking her for a joyride and she can't do anything about it."
"I fail to see why I should consider myself superior to her because of it." I drawl back.
"Because you are!" she insists, manicness and desperation threading through her voice, her fingers twitching, "That's why I don't get you! One moment you pull some crazy shit, the other you're just happy being…" she gestures vaguely in my direction, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Being me?" I arch my visible eyebrow her way.
"Being a stupid kid!" She replies, teeth gritted in frustration.
I give her a genuinely dumbfounded look.
"...But I'm not playing?" I slowly say once I managed to get my wits back about the boatload of nonsense Emma just spewed my way, "Emma, I am a kid. A very, very weird one with way too much baggage and even more power at my fingertips, but a kid nonetheless. Why in the ever loving fuck would I throw being a child away?"
"Because you're strong! You shouldn't be wasting your time in middle-school doing stupid stuff!"
And that's when it hits me then; she can't wrap her head around the fact that I'm not high on my own supply, because that's how she'd behave if she was a cape.
To be fair, before Somerset, I was acting a bit like I was high on my supply. Or maybe my messy hypno-indoctrination persuaded me that I was more enlightened than the uneducated masses unaware of the glory of Him on Terra, it's honestly a bit of a toss up.
But now, after everything that happened?
"Yeah, no," it's my own turn to scoff as I cross my arms over my chest, "I'm not letting what I can do dictate who I should be, it's my own choice to make. Sure, I'm a parahuman, but that's not the entire sum of who I am. I like painting–" I make a sweeping gesture at the bedroom at large, " –and reading just for the sake of it. I like messing around with my friends, be they parahumans or not. I… alright, school is an absolute bore, but it's more time spent with my friends, so I can endure it. Besides, I don't want to be a cape all day, every day," I conclude with a shrug, "Bet's worst issues won't solve themselves, so I'm willing to do my part, but miss me with everything else. I'll be plenty happy living off bounty money while Tinkering in my corner when I feel like it, and enjoying my hobbies when I don't," I pause, before adding, "I mean, I'm probably going to contact Dragon at some point to see if we can't start commercializing some of the blueprints I have–"
"What about the Blue Devil?" Emma cuts me off, and my jaw clicks shut with a click as I give her a queer look.
What the hell is she talkin ab–, I mentally ask myself while looking at her with my Eye, only for my eyebrow to twitch, once, as soon as I finish parsing her surface thoughts.
My mental acceleration triggers, my speed of thought turning lightning-fast, and I send my bedroom door slamming shut with a ripple of darkish-red miasma before dashing closer to my cousin.
"What," I clip, an irritated frown carved on my face, "Did you just say?"
She gulps slightly while taking a step back, her eyes darting over her shoulder just in time to see the ripple of green energy running along the walls as Dell soundproofs us.
"I-I," she stutters once more as she locks eyes with me once again, looking down at me yet I'm the one looming, "I said, w-what about the Blue D-Devil?"
My eyebrow twitch for the second time, and my hand comes to rub at my temple as I take a step back.
~~[Fear of Dying in Chains], attend me,~~ I call.
A beat passes.
~~What is it, dearest?~~ Dark-chan steps out of thin air, a mysterious smile on her face, her yellow pupils swallowed by black sclera darting toward a now very still Emma before going back to me, ~~Oh, a present! You shouldn't have!~~
"Don't play cute with me, this isn't the time," I pout scowl, before jamming a finger her way, "What did you do to her?"
~~Nothing much,~~ she answers a little evasively, averting her eyes even though the glassy orb of her wretched puppet is locked on me, ~~We merely reached an understanding of a sort, isn't that right, Emma?~~
"Don't," I growl my cousin's way, before bringing my attention back to the Fiend, "...You knew that she knew."
~~Indeed.~~ She answers, cocking her head slightly to the side as if to silently ask 'what of it?'
"You didn't say anything about it to me." I precise through slightly gritted teeth.
~~The matter was handled,~~ she shrugs, ~~And short of removing her in a permanent fashion, which you wouldn't have done, you had no way of–~~
"That doesn't matter!" I snap, her jaws clicking shut as I cut her off, "You should have told me still!"
Another beat passes as the two of us keep staring at each other.
"...We'll talk about this more later," I end up sighing, my hand coming to rub at my temple in a bid to stave off the beginning of a headache, "You're free to leave."
The Fiend purses her lips, before curtly nodding.
~~Until later, dearest.~~ She says simply before vanishing the next moment.
After another beat of silence, my hand drops back alongside my body once again.
"From what I understand, Dark-chan is drawn toward fear and powerlessness," I explain aloud, more because I can't stand the awkward quiet that has fallen in the bedroom than because I felt like I owe my cousin an explanation, "It's like catnip to her, and she can smell it from very, very far. I never gave her the order to take care of the Bay's most unsavory denizens; she's plenty happy to do it herself, as a matter of fact. The only thing I asked of her is not to attack first," I tilt my head to the side while locking eyes with my cousin once again, "Apparently, the lesson has yet to stick."
Sure, her killings have somewhat petered out since she first started, but the fact that it still happens will forever remain something I'm quietly baffled about.
"Coincidentally, and her blue-orange moral axis aside," my tone turns cold and my human eye narrows, "She is very dear to me. Blip one word about the fact that the both of us share a bond, and I swear I'll have you drawn and quartered. Understood?"
Emma's mouth flaps open.
"I said: understood?" My eye narrows even further.
"Y-Yes, I get it!" she not-quite whines, now definitely hugging herself as she takes a step back.
"Great!" I chirp with a smile full of teeth, before taking another step back and shaking my head, "Anyway, I don't control Dark-chan, and I refuse to give her more orders than I need to. She's her own person, and she apparently gets a kick out of terrorizing rapists, child molesters and abusers of all kinds. Oh, and showing her displeasure when a Master thinks themself smart, I suppose."
A beat passes.
"...I know I'm probably speaking to a wall, but I feel like I still should say it," I sigh once more, "I don't want to be defined by my power. I mean, I like my power, she's the best–"
{Flattery will get you nowhere,} Theia quips in the back of my mind.
"–but just like Dark-chan is her own person, so am I. And I don't want to be a slave to everyone else's expectations," I give a little shrug, "Handling big messes like the Nine? I can do that. Making war on the gangs of the city now that the PRT firmly has the advantage for once? Not happening; I have bigger fish to fry–"
Dell handily chooses that precise moment to send me a curated report from the roboroach network that sees me frowning once again.
"–until they start making it my problem, apparently," I grouse under my breath.
One thought later, and I get swallowed by a ripple of green-tinged light.
I'm about to bring a hand to my right hip when I distantly register Emma saying something.
"W-What are you doing?" She asks, her eyes roaming the silhouette of the SNOW OWL before doing a valiant effort at locking with mine.
I don't answer immediately as a portal appears, dark red soundlessly moaning faces surrounding the void through reality and bathing my bedroom in an unholy glow.
"I'm about to show a stupid carp why it should've remained at the foot of the goddamned waterfall." I answer back before stepping through.
***
It has taken Kenta an entire month to wrangle the fuckers forming his gang back together after losing his second to a lucky shot, and he is still not over it.
Oni Lee had handled a lot of the day to day stuff regarding the ABB; Kenta had only had to say something before the teleporter started crisscrossing his territory to relay his order. It had been neat, efficient, and gave him enough latitude to do something else than ruling, like fucking, drinking and sleeping.
But no drugs. Never drugs. He had a bad history with those.
With his second's death, Kenta had had to take a more hands-on approach once again, and he didn't like that, not one bit. That sorry excuse of a Tinker he'd recruited a couple months ago didn't even have the decency to not get offed too, and somehow managed to die against the wet fart of the local Protectorate. Talk about a failed investment, that one.
So, Kenta went about making his lackeys remember the pecking order, showing the waste of spaces he lorded over who they should truly be afraid of after that pathetic attempt at a coup someone tried to mount against him.
It has taken him weeks to properly cow everyone having funny thoughts, which surprised him as much as it annoyed him; it's almost as if they'd been more afraid of Lee than him!
But now Kenta is done, and he must restore his stained honor after the black eye the Bay's other players gave him. Which is precisely why he stands in front of his men, a haze of heat curling around him as he sits on a throne of hot-welded metal, aggression and resentment choking the air of the warehouse and sending the red-hot fire of his power coursing through his veins.
The time to lay low is now over, and he will show the sacks of shits calling Brockton Bay home exactly who they fucked with.
Kenta lets time stretch a little as two latecomers get quietly ushered inside the warehouse, his fingers tapping an unsteady beat against his throne's armrest, and only after a minute has passed, does he finally speak.
"The Empire," he starts with, his annoyance ratcheting up another notch at being forced to speak in heavily accented English instead of his tongue of birth, another reason why he's still pissed off from losing Lee to a sniper, "Has been gutted. The Kaiser is weak. The Protectorate is toothless. They are weak too."
Slowly, ponderously, Kenta stands from his throne, tongues of flame licking his bare chest as he does so.
"Tonight, we stand united. Tonight, we show this city who truly hold the power, and leave our mark," he carries on, his tone steady and even as he looms over his troops, "Tonight, we–"
One moment, Lung is speaking.
The next, the doors of the warehouse cease to exist, vanishing in a shower of crimson light and with the screams of a thousand damned.
"Tonight, you do nothing," the newcomer calls from amid the dust cloud her entrance raised, her figure a mess of slowly beating scarlet lines, her voice young and her tone even, almost bored, "In fact, the only thing all of you are allowed to do is surrender."
With a contemptuous snarl on his face, the red-hot fire of his power surging in his veins, Kenta, no, Lung unleashes a torrent of flame toward the unknown cape, ignoring how his goons scamper out of the firepath with cries of alarm.
Yet when the flames vanish, the newcomer remains pristine, wearing an armor of alabaster threaded with blood-red indents all over, lowly buzzing and humming as she hovers in place, two triangle-like protrusion keeping her aloft and from which six orbs trails on each side, tied together by the same crimson light which had heralded her arrival, the odd arc of white-red current sparking out of her frame.
The visage of a winking owl looks back at him, blackened lips on grey skin pressed in a distinctively unimpressed way.
"You get one, by the way." The newcomer, no, the girl drawls.
If he was annoyed already before, now he is pissed.
"...You'd dare tell the Great Lung what he is to do?" Kenta growls while stepping down his podium, his muscles already bulging all across his body as his power churns.
"I mouthed off to Jack Slash himself. So yeah, yeah, I do," the cape tilts her head to the side as one of his subordinates seemingly recognizes her, before waving dismissively, "Now, all of you sit down, or I'll have to do something, and it's going to be painful."
"The Great Lung does not bow!" Kenta snarls as he gains a feet in height, his hand blurring forward–
–only to get stopped almost an entire meter before it hits the girl, white-red light sizzling against his skin and chipping off freshly formed silvery scale.
"...Fine, the hard way it is," the girl sighs as a sword weaved of yellow-scarlet light appears in her hand out of a green-tinged lightshow.
And then, Kenta finds himself in a situation he hasn't had to deal with since Kyushu; he is fighting for his life.
And he is losing, very badly.
[AN: "And our Darwin Award this year comes to… *unfold a note* Lung the Great Coward! A rousing round of applause, everyone!"
Hope you enjoy, xoxo!]