Chapter 31: Day of Rest

Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Type: Ice

The third floor of the Palanquin had been converted into an apartment suite for their personal use. I found Newter and Elle in the lounge, settled into the sofa with an enormous tub of popcorn as large as Newter's torso. I wanted to go say hi; they'd be leaving for a month or so after tonight.

The lounge caught me off guard. It was much bigger than I remembered it being, with a giant sofa wide enough to seat eight people comfortably. The central coffee table had been shoved to the corner, revealing a plush, thick rug that could almost double as a bed with its softness. All around, I saw what must have been every blanket in the building, strewn about so either Elle or Newter could build themselves a fort to their liking.

"I see you're getting a lot of mileage out of your power, Elle," I chuckled.

"Blake!" Elle yelped, almost spilling the popcorn between them. "Hi!"

"Hey, dude, wanna come watch movies with us?" Newter said, waving me over. The tip of his tail flicked happily, a little like a cat, or maybe a gecko. "We're doing a Maggie Holt marathon."

"You sure? Melanie just said she's taking you guys out to Vegas for a month," I informed them. "Shouldn't you pack?"

"Eh, nah. It'll take me like ten minutes to stuff some clothes into my backpack in the morning."

"And Mel says I should always have a bug out bag packed and ready," Elle said. "Come join us."

I shrugged. Far be it for me to tell experienced mercenaries how to do their jobs. "Sure, why not. Which movie are you watching?"

"We're on the fourth. It's my favorite because it has all the best architecture."

"See, Blake? We've watched this series like three times already but Elle likes to watch them anyway because the architecture gives her power ideas," Newter said.

"Yup! It's great! And I didn't hear you complaining about getting to sleep inside the throne room of Minas Tirith when we watched Lord of the Rings."

"Hey, I'm not knocking it. Seriously, we could charge for that service. You know, a guided tour around fantasy settings."

"No way. People are tiring."

I hopped over the back of the couch to sit with them. "So Elle watches Maggie Holt because she likes the view. Why are you watching then, Newt?"

"She won ro sham bo," he shrugged.

"Liar, just tell him you have a crush on Maggie's actress," Elle quipped.

"Hey, now, you did win! But yea, I also like the 'view,'" he said, shooting me a salacious grin.

"Eww, gross. They got her all wrong. The movies prettied her up so much that it barely looks like Maggie anymore."

I leaned back and watched as the two bickered. They were like siblings, though given how new this all was to Elle and Newter's general immaturity, it was hard to tell who was the older sibling between them. Maybe fraternal twins?

Dean introduced me to the Maggie Holt series when I was a freshman because he found out I got into Arcadia via a writing scholarship. He thought I'd enjoy the dark, gothic fantasy.

I read through the series, at least to the most current book, but it was a little darker than I preferred. Personally, I'd lived through enough dark, world-ending crises, thank you. I didn't need anyone else to tell me about ones they'd made up.

To be fair to Newter and Elle, they were both right.

In the books, Maggie wasn't described as a particularly pretty girl. She had dark-brown hair that she kept short for convenience, with eyebrows on the thicker side that made her seem constantly angry with the world.

After she changed her name, she also dressed in lots of blacks and grays, giving her a darker vibe. The countless hours she spent fighting for her life was also supposed to have given her a sunken, hollow look, with thick bags under her eyes. Given how often she got injured, she probably came off as an abuse victim, not a fantastic heroine.

The movies took all of that and airbrushed away all of Maggie's less appealing qualities. The actress, a young, Hollywood starlet in her early twenties, was a complete knockout. She could best be described as a gothic princess.

The "angry" eyebrows had been edited to a more stern, expressive countenance. The heavy bags under her eyes had been replaced by eyeshadow. The many injuries she was supposed to have sustained were now tasteful accents, and largely simple tears on her black tights and jacket.

I learned today that Newter had a thing for goth girls. I didn't blame him. The actress reminded me of Marnie, the dark type gym leader of Spikemuth who inherited her position from her older brother back when I was in my twenties. She'd also had a horde of drooling fanboys if I recalled correctly.

The three of us spent the next four hours watching the fourth and fifth movies in the series. Partially through the first hour, I got tired of sitting in my armor and shifted to spheal so I could get more comfortable.

I hadn't noticed in my insulated armor, but the room was fairly chilly, which explained why Elle looked more like a shapeless mound of blankets than a person. Apparently, the cool air kept Newter from sweating, which was important given his sweat was also a narcotic.

Then, the clock struck midnight and I swapped back. The gear in my soul spun and landed on… nothing.

I couldn't say I was too surprised. Maybe this was Arceus' way of telling me I should spend a day to recover fully, not push myself to heal at the hospital. Or maybe he was saying that I ought to train my aura so I wouldn't be reliant on good luck. Either way, I shuffled out of my armor and snagged a few blankets for myself.

It was… nice. It felt like I hadn't had the chance to lie back and roll around in a while. I knew this wouldn't last. There were Heartbreaker's children I needed to worry about. I wasn't sure when the Bakuda thing would become relevant, but that couldn't be far off either. And with the Empire gone, we were bound to get gangs from out of the city poking their heads in.

But in the moment, I allowed myself to put those thoughts out of mind. They were concerns for later. And, maybe, I wouldn't have to deal with them alone.

X

Monday, February 7, 2011

Type: Null

I snuck back home at a little past five-thirty. After watching the rest of the Maggie Holt movies, the three of us started playing some of the video games in Newter's enormous collection.

Given his unique biology, he couldn't exactly spend a day out on the town, at least not discreetly. He didn't have much else to spend his portion of the team's money on besides games and food. The others were like that too. Gregor was in the same boat as Newter and until recently, Elle hadn't been lucid enough to have a life outside the Palanquin.

Partway through, Elle began to doze off, but not before she and Newter made me promise to include them in the next Mystery Dungeon game. I didn't have a problem making that promise, but I hadn't realized I was going to make a second game at all.

I supposed I now knew what I was going to do the next time I had normal type aura.

Having a typeless day wasn't new, but it'd never felt like this before. Before, I'd been disappointed, maybe even a little resentful, because I felt it was a wasted day. I could accomplish so much as a pokemon; why should I have to waste my time as just Blake Isley?

Today, however, I embraced it wholly. Today was a day of rest, for both my aura and myself. My plan for the day was to go to school, play with puppies at the Camacho Clinic, then meditate for a few hours on the mysteries of aura and the glory of the Alpaca Supreme.

I caught a quick snooze in my own bed for about half an hour before heading downstairs. I poured a packet of instant oatmeal into a mug and covered it with hot water before tossing the sludge mixture into the microwave for a few minutes. While that heated through, I picked a few blackberries from the garden out back to round out my breakfast.

"Good morning," a feminine voice said with a cute yawn. Cherie Lecroix walked down the stairs in a set of woolen sweatpants and a form-fitting t-shirt. "You're up early, Blake."

I opened the fridge and poured two glasses of orange juice, sliding one over to her. It wasn't so much that I was an early riser as I'd yet to really sleep. "Good morning, Cherie. Is Leah's snoring bothering you after all?"

"No, not at all. I've always been an early riser. With how many siblings I have, a quiet moment like this is pretty rare."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Oh? How many siblings do you have?"

"Too many. Dad remarried a few times," she said with a tinkling laugh. She really had a nice smile. It was no wonder Mark and Derek were head over heels for her. "They're nothing like the kids here though. I've never seen children so well-behaved."

"You saw them chuck broccoli at each other last night."

"Yes, and no one burst into tears or tried to replace toothpaste with hot sauce."

"Fair enough," I said. I decided to do Mark a solid. "It's mostly because of Mark. The kids look up to him a lot, you know."

"Really? I'd have thought they'd look up to you. Aren't you the scholarship student?"

"Nah, not me. That just means Mrs. Wells likes me. The kids respect something else. I mean, don't get me wrong, I grew up here, but I'm not here anymore if you know what I mean."

"Is it because you go to Arcadia?"

"That's a big part of it, yeah. Growing up here, you can't help but run into the gangs," I told her. The microwave beeped so I got my mug of oatmeal and tossed in some berries. "Sooner or later, you need to pay your respects, even if it's just lip service. It's how you avoid getting jumped every other day."

"I think I see what you mean. I had a friend in the system too. It's what first made me interested in civil service," she said with a wan smile.

"Yeah. I'm not really part of this anymore, but Mark? He's cool, athletic, popular, and the gangs mostly leave him alone. He's carved out a place for himself in a shithole like Winslow without joining the ABB. That's way harder than getting some scholarship."

"I guess you're right. So the kids try to be like him?"

"Heh. They try. A few of the boys still pester him for breakdancing lessons."

Cherie made her own bowl of oatmeal and we shot the breeze for a bit before I started on an early jog to school. I hadn't been sure what to make of her at first, but she seemed like an alright sort. She was earnest, good-natured in a way that I'd found was rare in Brockton. Maybe the city needed more people like her.

I felt a warm spark bloom in my chest. Victini seemed to have taken an interest in our new assistant caretaker. That was always a good sign; Victini didn't tend to associate with morons or assholes.

X

"Hey, Blake, you look tired," Dean said as he took a seat next to me at lunch. He always brought something from home, this time an Italian sub.

I glanced up at him sleepily. My friend was usually impeccably dressed and groomed, what with him being a silver spoon and all, but not today. He had bags under his eyes and he looked like he rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

Given that I knew he was Gallant, I didn't hold it against him. He must have been busy putting the civilians at ease and fighting the regular gang members while I dealt with the Empire on Saturday. And unlike me, his job didn't end when the fighting stopped. Being a hero was his job, which meant helping to clean up after that shitshow was also his job.

No thanks. Being a hero was my hobby, damnit. He could keep his cushy Ward salary.

"You don't look much better," I said back. "Long weekend?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Yeah, same here. I spent most of it riding herd on the orphanage kids. What about you?"

"My work study got really busy. It was a huge pain."

"Really? What do you do again?"

"Ah… umm… I work with my dad's company. You know, real estate. Boring stuff…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"Right."

Dean looked around for anything to change the topic. Luckily for him, I'd have to put teasing Dean on hold for a bit. The Dallon sisters had arrived with Vicky's regular posse.

Vicky was a bundle of sunshine, as always, whereas Amy loomed in her sister's shadow like a gloomy moon. Arcadia's queen bee immediately wrapped her boyfriend in a hug before giving him an affectionate peck on the lips.

To my surprise, the grumpy healer gave Dean and I an acerbic glower. Odd. Usually, she had a hate-boner for Dean, not me. She sat down on Vicky's other side and began working on an assignment. Odds were she didn't get to do her classwork because of her visit to the hospital, though I doubted any teacher would mark her down for that.

"What're you working on, Amy?" one of Vicky's friends asked. Her name was… Stephanie…? I wasn't sure; they all blurred together.

"Hero stuff," Amy grumbled. "My idiot boyfriend wants to become a druglord."

That got a round of hacking coughs around the table. "Wait, what?"

"His monsters can make magic berries. We reached out to Dragon a while back. She sent over a bunch of forms for me to fill out. I basically need to confirm that the berries aren't harmful to humans in my capacity as Panacea."

"So you have homework from Dragon on top of your work at the hospital? That sounds complicated. Why isn't Menagerie doing this too?"

"I don't know. It sure sucks having a boyfriend dump all his paperwork on me," Amy said, pointedly not looking in my direction.

"Hey, you said you're validating Menagerie's creations as the foremost healer in the world. Wouldn't Menagerie filling those forms out be like a drug dealer who pinky promises that his drugs are safe? He can't fill them out because he's the one who made the berries," I defended myself.

"He's still an ass. He'd better make it up to me. Dragon wants me to find the active healing agent in the berries so she can isolate it during testing."

"Ahaha… What would you even want? A date? Chocolate?"

"Fuck no. I don't know."

"Wait, does the PRT know about this?" Dean, Mr. Definitely Not A Ward, asked.

Amy scoffed. "Why would she know? It's none of her business. Neither Menagerie nor I am a Ward and Menagerie's creations are being filed under independent tinkertech. By having me and Dragon test them, we're going through the legitimate channels."

"I guess… I doubt she'll be happy."

"She'll get the full memo whenever we're ready to start selling healing berries."

"Selling?" another of Vicky's friends asked. "I thought you did all the healing stuff for free."

"I do, but that's because my mom's a lawyer. Menagerie… I'll leave it at that. I'm pretty sure he wants to set up a bunch of charities too."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"Yeah, he can be pretty alright."

X

I headed to the Camacho Clinic for my work study. Or, more honestly, my much-needed session of puppy therapy.

It felt like I hadn't been here in too long. Before the mess with the Empire, Dr. Camacho asked me to not show up for a few days because there would be an inspection. I didn't know what that entailed exactly, but there was probably a veterinary society of some sort that renewed licenses for small, family-run clinics like his.

It had been good news then as it gave me more time to focus on hero work, but there was no denying that I'd missed the animals. Thanks to my past life as a trainer, I found dealing with them far easier than people sometimes.

"No! Stop squirming!" Stacy Camacho, the doctor's daughter and veterinary student, demanded. Unfortunately, the ferret in question did not speak English, nor did the older girl have my knack for animal handling.

The ferret nipped her hand in frustration, hopped off the table, and dashed between her legs, making his valiant escape.

I laughed and clicked my tongue. The ferret saw the treat in my hand and crawled up my pant leg before settling in the crook of my arm with a happy squeak.

"Roberts giving you trouble?" I asked smugly.

"His name isn't Roberts, estupido," she huffed.

"Of course he is. He's Dread Pirate Roberts, scourge of the clinic. We agreed on this."

"We did not."

"The doc nodded."

"That wasn't agreement. That was him letting you get the stupid out of your system, chico."

"Well, chica, it's obvious Roberts likes me more so I get to name him," I shot back. I tickled his chin and cooed, "Right, Dread Pirate Roberts?"

"Ugh, that's not fair. I swear you're some kind of animal master."

"That's me, the puppy-controlling superhero."

"More like supervillain. Idiot savants can't be superheroes. Come on, help me put him back."

"Did you give him his shots already?"

"Why do you think he bit me?"

"Haha, fair enough. How was the inspection thing?"

"Oh, that went alright. They mostly looked around, saw that the place was spotless, and gave us the greenlight. Dad had to go answer a few refresher questions, renew his ethics vows and such, but I didn't see any of that."

"Huh, that sounds pretty cool."

"What? Animal doctors are still doctors, you know."

"Of course. Some doctors just happen to fist horses for a living," I shot back dryly, mostly to fuck with her.

She brandished a needle threateningly. "Don't make me stab you, pendejo."

"Alright, alright, no need to threaten me with bodily harm."

"Anyway, check the staff room when you're done with your shift. Mom put a bunch of enchiladas in the freezer for you."

"Seriously? Hell yeah!" I cheered. Mrs. Camacho was ridiculously good at cooking. I'd met her a few times and she'd taken a liking to me so she sometimes shared food. "What's the occasion?"

"Haven't you heard? The Empire's done. Hell, my entire apartment building had a celebratory potluck. Most of us are Hispanic, dude."

"Nice, that sounds like fun."

"It was. So yeah, the enchiladas are leftovers from that."

"Then I won't say no. Thanks, Stacy. Tell your mom I said thank you."

"I will, Blake. Don't be a stranger."

X

I got out of my work study program at five-thirty in the afternoon. Arcadia required it of most of its students, especially juniors and seniors, but it also allowed us to leave school after a few "essential" classes and lunch. All told, I spent four to five hours at the clinic.

I made it home for dinner and spent the evening catching up on the happenings of the city. People were in a generally celebratory mood, but that didn't mean the main actors around the city remained idle.

For the most part, the PRT was cashing in on "their" success. They managed to secure additional reinforcements from Boston and shipped the Empire capes to various maximum security prisons across New England. Hookwolf, being a three-times Birdcage escapee, got shipped off directly to the Birdcage via one of Dragon's hovercrafts.

The regular police had their hands full as well. Unfortunately, the simple truth was that they could not arrest every gangbanger who caused trouble on Saturday. Not only did they lack the manpower, they quite literally didn't have the room in their holding cells. That meant that though the capes were all taken care of, there were a few persistent, unpowered holdouts still causing trouble.

I decided that wasn't my concern. Not only was I still recovering from my aura expenditure over the weekend, I ultimately didn't think hunting down every radical neo-Nazi personally was the best way to improve the city.

The ABB were likewise busy according to Mark and PHO. The Empire's collapse was a massive indirect windfall for them. With the Empire gone and law enforcement busy, they could expand without opposition into what had been contested territory only a week prior.

As it was, they had sole claim to the valuable real estate near what had been the Boat Graveyard. Their goal was, as always, money. As such, they likely wanted to tax the real estate developers and new residents as they moved in, creating a precedent they could milk for effectively forever. In that sense, a gentler hand made far more sense from their perspective.

They at least had the good sense to not start another riot. If Lung also chose to go on a rampage, I was pretty sure I'd have given up and tossed Victini at the idiot.

In brighter news, the PRT also announced the recruitment of a new Ward, a thinker by the name of Delphi. Judging by the light-brown hair, the slip of a girl was Dinah Alcott, the girl I'd met over the Coil Incident. The heroes likely wanted to capitalize on the momentum.

Author's Note

I wanted something a little fluffy. Blake needs rest.

Pact, a web serial also written by Wildbow, is canon to the Wormverse as a set of movies on Earth-Bet. The reverse is also true. I haven't read Pact, but I've been told Worm is a game in that setting. The scene with Newter and Elle is a neat little nod to Wildbow's multiverse.

Anima Fact: Some bees, such as carpenter bees, bumblebees, and stingless bees, harvest pollen from flowers using a process called sonication or buzz pollination. They will grab the flower with their legs or mouths and vibrate their wings, causing the pollen to dislodge from the stamens.

Given that a stamen is the male reproductive organ of a flower and pollen is basically sperm, you may now live with the knowledge that certain bees literally act as vibrators for flowers.

If I must suffer, so must you. You're welcome.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.