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Prodigal Daughter [Worm Alt-Taylor AU]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ack, Dec 25, 2018.

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  1. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Oh, he's alive.

    He'd still find fault, though. Because he's a sore loser.
     
    1oldman and Jack of Olives like this.
  2. Threadmarks: Part Seventeen: Outreach
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Prodigal Daughter

    Part Seventeen: Outreach

    [A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

    "Okay, stop here."

    Obediently, Frankie pulled the car to a halt and I got out. The lookout point atop Captain's Hill was deserted at this time of night, fortunately for anyone who might have been up here; I might have been tempted to pretend we were a travelling mime show, and who knew what that might have led to. Strolling over to the railing that gave us our best view of the city, I sighed happily as I picked out the tiny pillar of smoke marking where Somer's Rock had once been.

    "It's a great view isn't it? So much possibility."

    Frankie didn't answer at once. He was learning to think before he spoke. I appreciated that about him; an obedient minion was good, but a minion who was capable of self-improvement? Pure gold.

    "Yeah," he said at last. "Lotsa things wrong with the place. I dunno what you're thinking all the time, or even most of the time, but you think big, an' you don't step back from doin' what you wanna do. Anyone can fix this city, it's you."

    I considered that. "You know, Frankie, you're almost there. I wouldn't say I wanted to fix Brockton Bay though, because that'd make it sound like some of the stuff I want to change is bad, or what I want to change it to is good. Let's just say, I want to remodel it. Change things up. Make life exciting. But not stupid exciting, like it is now." I spread my arms. "Fun exciting." Then I let out a full-blooded cackle, not because I thought it was funny, but because I felt it needed to be said.

    With my laughter still echoing out over Brockton Bay, I turned to my minion. He had taken a step back while I was enjoying my maniacal laughter, but he met my gaze squarely. "Well, Frankie," I said quietly. "What do you say? Are you in?"

    Slowly, the most evil grin I'd ever seen—apart from the one on my own face in the mirror—crept across his face. "I reckon they got it coming, boss."

    My grin grew to match his, then exceeded it—thanks to Riley, I had an unfair advantage—and I reached out and patted his arm. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

    We stood side by side, looking out over the city. An errant breeze teased the ends of my green wig. Eventually, Frankie broke the silence. "So what are we gonna be doing next, boss?"

    I giggled. "Recruiting." There was a nerdy kid in some of my classes who would've fit the school-shooter profile almost exactly if he didn't yabber on incessantly about some computer game or other. I figured he'd only need a few nudges before he'd be helping me out all on his own.

    "Recruiting?" Frankie almost sounded hurt. "Ain't I good enough to be your minion anymore?"

    "Frankie. Frankie, Frankie, Frankie." I reached up to pat his cheek. "You're the best minion a homicidal maniac could have. But I'm thinking I might need stealth minions, and you're a lot better at the really loud stuff. You'll always be my Minion Number One, I promise."

    "Oh. That's okay, then." I pretended not to watch as he surreptitiously wiped away a tear. "Thanks, boss. You had me worried for a bit, there."

    I giggled. "Oh, trust me, Frankie. If I ever decided to retire you, it wouldn't hurt a bit."

    For some reason, that made him look … relieved? Minions were weird.

    <><>​

    Cruising through the streets of Brockton Bay, I found it peaceful, almost restful. The gang activity was basically zero out tonight; the Merchants were gone, and I'd torn through the Empire and ABB's little secret villain strategy meeting like a honey badger driving a combine harvester. Everyone had to be keeping their heads down, looking around for what might happen next. In the meantime, the cops were likely wondering where everyone was. You're totally welcome, guys.

    Just on a whim, I told Frankie to swing through Downtown before dropping me off near my house. Not for any particular reason, just so that I could enjoy the fruits of my work. But just after we passed the hospital, I spotted a girl walking down the street.

    It was a nice neighbourhood, so she was probably safe. But what was a teenage girl doing, walking around in the middle of the night? She wasn't dressed right to be a hooker, and it was the wrong part of town for that anyway. And then my power sense kicked in, and things became a lot clearer. All over her hands, over every part of exposed skin, flickered a kind of blue fire. I was looking at a parahuman. And if my general skill at reading people wasn't totally messing me around, a parahuman who was shitted off with her general situation.

    "Frankie," I said. "Don't slow down, but do you have any idea who that is?"

    As a good minion should, he followed my instruction to the letter. The car didn't even swerve a little bit as he followed the line of my pointing finger. It took him a few seconds, then he blinked in surprise.

    "Damn," he said. "What's Panacea doing out this late?"

    "That's Panacea?" I asked, honestly surprised in my own turn. Well, as surprised as I ever got. A little curious, maybe.

    I didn't make a habit of watching for New Wave on TV, so my mental image of the team costumes tended toward a lot of white and gold. This girl wasn't even wearing any of that. Her costume of choice seemed to be a sweater, baggy jeans and a band to keep her frizzy hair out of her eyes. And of course a chip on her shoulder the size of the Forsberg Gallery.

    I had a brainwave. "Go around the corner just up there and drop me off," I told Frankie. "Then wait for me two blocks up."

    "Okay, boss," he said automatically. "What are you gonna do? We gonna kidnap her?"

    I admired the way he showed he was willing to do just that if I wanted him to, but then I shook my head. "Nice idea, but nope. Just gonna talk to her. See if we can have a meeting of the minds."

    He nodded firmly, as though the idea of me deciding to have a midnight chat with the most famous healer in the world caused him no qualms whatsoever. Which meant he either had an immense amount of unshakeable faith in me, or he was irredeemably stupid. I was gonna go with 'faith'. Which was kinda touching, in its own way.

    He pulled over as directed and I got out, leaving the hat and wig behind. As the car drove off, I strolled back to the corner. Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes and listened to the footsteps coming closer and closer. She passed me by; showtime.

    Opening my eyes, I pushed off the wall and set off after her. My stride was longer than hers, so in just a few seconds I was alongside her. Just for shits and giggles, I used my blue field the same way I had in Somer's Rock, to keep her oblivious of anything amiss. Right up until I was alongside her, whereupon I replaced it with my grey field (I'm audacious, not idiotic) and greeted her in my brightest tones. "Hi! Nice night for a stroll, isn't it?"

    "Jesus shit!" she squawked, and jumped sideways. Not bad distance either, considering she'd done it so spontaneously. Note to self: that was almost funny. I will have to try it again. "Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?"

    Well, she didn't seem prone to attack by instinct, so I replaced the grey field with the blue again. "Hey, chill. Just wanted to say hi. Big fan of your work, actually." I gave her an encouraging grin.

    "What—wait …" She stared at me. "I know who you are. You're Rictus!"

    I giggled, going for the unsettling vibe. This was a new one on me. "I'm who again now?" Was she setting me up for some weird joke?

    The giggle had its effect, but it didn't put her off her stride. "You're Rictus!" she insisted. "The new cape, the one who killed the Merchants with that biotoxin!"

    "Well, yeah, that was me," I admitted proudly. "So they're calling me Rictus now, huh? Nice name. I like it." I shot her my creepiest grin just to show her how much I liked it.

    She shuddered, but not as much as Frankie did. It seemed our little Panacea was made of sterner stuff. "What do you want with me, anyway? If you're here to try to kidnap me, I promise you will not enjoy the outcome!"

    "Hey, hey." I held up my hands in mock surrender. "No kidnapping here. Promise. I just wanted to talk. A little chat, girl to girl. You vent about your problems, I vent about mine, we go our separate ways. Deal?"

    "Well …" She eyed me suspiciously. And well she should, because I had ulterior motives dribbling out my ears. But with the blue field up and running, it was hard for her to maintain it. "… okay, fine. But the moment you try to bribe me to join your gang, I'm outta here."

    I repeated the mock surrender. "No bribes, promise. Just talk, nothing else."

    "Hmph. Okay." She started walking again, and I fell into step alongside her. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

    "Me?" I shook my head. "I'm here to listen to your problems, o healer of the masses. Tell me: what is it that has gotten most thoroughly up your nose today?"

    "Nothing." She said the word defiantly, but I was pretty sure Frankie could tell she was lying from where he was sitting in his car, two blocks away. "I'm fine."

    Ohh boy. This one's gonna be a doozy when it blows. Inner me went and got some popcorn, while I piled on the blue field some more. "Aarre you suurre?"

    "Well …" She had to be pushing against some major habits by opening up, so I let her take her time. "There is one thing …"

    There was more than one thing but I held my tongue, contenting myself with an encouraging smile.

    I had to give her full credit; when she opened up, she did it with style. I learned about how she was adopted (kind of obvious in retrospect, really) plus chapter and verse about her foster mom's passive-aggressive style of parenting. How her sister was given preferential treatment all the time, though she didn't hate Glory Girl for being the golden child, but actually loved her …

    Had I mentioned Panacea had a chip on her shoulder? It was more like a rock the size of Captain's Hill. Each time I thought she'd run dry, she managed to dredge up another wellspring of resentment, until I was left wondering exactly how the city had not been turned into a festering plague pit by now. Well, more of a festering plague pit.

    "And I know I can't heal everyone who needs it," she ranted, gesturing animatedly as I strolled alongside her. "You don't have to tell me that. Anyone who does the math can figure it out. But does Carol acknowledge it? No. I've got to do my bit to keep New Wave looking good, so anytime there's a news story about someone only I can heal, guess what, I'm there. She's drilled it into my head so much that I literally get up and walk to the hospital in the middle of the night just so I can heal a few more people and sleep better after I get home! How ridiculous is that?"

    "Pretty ridiculous," I agreed. "But you know, we've got a lot in common, you and me. I mean, if we look past the obvious differences like how I murder people and you save lives."

    "Okay, well apart from that, how so?" she asked. Having gotten a lot of the anger out of her system, at least temporarily, she was actually listening to what I had to say.

    I ticked off points on my fingers. "Real dad not in the picture. Real dad is a notorious supervillain." I paused at her quizzical look. "Oh, didn't I tell you? My father's Jack Slash."

    She tilted her head and eyed my features carefully. "Yeah, I can believe that. Though I'm pretty sure that glowing effect is Tinkertech."

    "Oh, sure," I agreed. "Riley made it for me. You know, Bonesaw. My kind of adoptive sister. Something else we've got in common. Plus, we've both got kinda distant stepdads. Barely anybody really understands us or respects us. Am I right?"

    She rolled her eyes and let out a heartfelt sigh that was more of a groan. "Oh, god yes. Carol doesn't trust me for what she knows I can do. If she knew what I could really do, I don't think she'd come within fifty feet of me."

    I shrugged. "Dad would probably be a little skittish, too. That's the trouble with secrets. Keeping 'em is a hassle, but not keeping 'em would be a bigger hassle, y'know?"

    She peered at me. "So how do you do it? How do you just … handle it all?"

    "Hm. Good question." I thought about it for a few moments. "Murder, I guess. That's a good way to blow off steam. A good, well thought out end to someone who desperately needs it."

    "I can't just murder someone!" She sounded almost scandalized.

    "Sure you can." I grinned at her. "Nobody but you knows exactly how your power works, right? So when the person you're supposed to be healing is a real scumbag, like you told me, all you gotta do is make their injuries worse before you start making 'em better. They got to you too late, too bad, so sad. Or it's a brain aneurysm or a blood clot or something. You could totally do that, right?"

    "Well, I could, but … I'm a healer." She looked conflicted. "Everyone trusts me to heal them."

    "Perfect." I dusted my hands off. "That way, nobody will suspect you."

    She suddenly looked very thoughtful indeed. "Still … we don't get too many of those," she said. I heard what she wasn't saying: How am I going to blow off steam the rest of the time without killing my other patients?

    "Oh, I get that," I agreed. "But, you know, me and Minion Number One go out from time to time to spread our own personal brand of chaos. If you were interested, you could come along as someone who wasn't Panacea. We pretty well target the people other scumbags think are scumbags. No innocents there. Plenty of chances to see what your power can really do. What do you say? It might be fun."

    By now, my blue field was barely more than a suggestion. I'd needed to ramp it up in the beginning to persuade her not to run screaming, but now she seemed genuinely interested, despite all the goodness and light propaganda that had been crammed down her throat. Or maybe because of it.

    She raised her eyebrows as she looked over at me. "I thought I said, no bribing me to join your gang."

    "What bribe?" I asked ingenuously. "I said nothing about pay. I just invited you along."

    "Hm." She eyed me. "Well, I might just take you up on that. Or I might not. We'll see."

    By which I knew she meant she was going to talk herself around to it in remarkably short order. "That's fair. See you when I see you, Pan-Pan."

    "Not if I see you first, Rictus."

    With that, we waved goodbye and I turned down the side-street to where Frankie was patiently waiting with the car. I watched her walk on, and when she was out of sight I got into the car and sighed happily.

    "How'd it go, boss?" he asked as he started the vehicle.

    "Better than I expected, actually," I said as I set about putting on the wig and hat again. "She could be tons scarier than me if she ever really let loose." I giggled. "And that part of her is so close to the surface, it'll only take a little tiny push to send her over the edge."

    "And you're just the person to do that, right boss?"

    I gave him a fond smile. "You know me so well, Frankie."

    <><>​

    The Next Morning

    I am the night.

    Sophia kept her face calm during the outprocessing period; fortunately, they had a form for 'healed by Panacea' which sped the whole deal up by quite a lot. She answered the questions with the right answers, and wrote the correct things in the correct spaces. All she wanted to do was get out of the hospital, retrieve her spare costume, and take to the rooftops once more.

    The night is me.

    Where before she'd considered herself to be the worst thing to be found in the shadows, now she knew differently. She'd seen the news footage about the new cape called Rictus and how they were connected to the deaths of the Merchants, and the bombing of both the Empire Eighty-Eight and the ABB. Capes had died in both of those instances, including the previously thought unkillable Alabaster. In her mind, she was absolutely certain she knew who was responsible. The inhuman grin, the cackling laughter haunted her every time she closed her eyes.

    I'm coming for you, Rictus.

    She had almost died herself, and been reborn with a new purpose. Rictus and her were now nemesi … nemesises … whatever it was called. The battle lines had been drawn and would endure until one or the other of them fell. Maybe I should rebrand, name myself after a creature of the night. An owl or something. Change out my crossbows for thrown weapons. Maybe boomerangs or bolos, something like that.

    However she did it, she would make sure Rictus regretted ever messing with her.

    Of that, she was certain.


    End of Part Seventeen
     
    Last edited: Sep 2, 2021
  3. wigg55

    wigg55 Not too sore, are you?

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    Sophia is batman analogue instead of Halbeard? Preposterous.
     
  4. Powergoat

    Powergoat Not too sore, are you?

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    Honestly Shadow Stalker is a Jason Todd at best. Defiantly not too-bat material.
     
  5. Crazael

    Crazael Could be wittier.

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    Well, we've got The Joker, its about time we gor The Bat. I look forward to their meeting.

    Also, the whole scene between Taylor and Amy was great.
     
    Death by Chains, PHSYCODELIC and Ack like this.
  6. Jake

    Jake Not too sore, are you?

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    I always thought he worked better as a Nite Owl analogue. Although whether or not he can get it up out of costume probably doesn't come up much.
     
    Death by Chains and Ack like this.
  7. silentorphan

    silentorphan Versed in the lewd.

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    Repetition, why?

    I viewed him more as an Azrael expy.
     
    Ack likes this.
  8. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Good catch. Will fix.
     
  9. PHSYCODELIC

    PHSYCODELIC

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    I died laughing. Sophia the edgelord will become Batman the orphan.

    Foreshadowing imminent: Taylor gets Sophia's mom a pearl necklace just so killing her is appropriately dramatic.
     
  10. KinKrow

    KinKrow A DREAM ABOUT DREAMING

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    Where's that quote I made a long time ago in a different Ack fic?
    The great news is that Sophis has no need for a bat signal because her shiny smooth brain is blinding.
     
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