She walks leisurely down the street without a care in the world while in the background, the birds chirp, the sun shines, and the air horn wails. Alone, she twirls in the street, dipping down to pick flowers from the gardens of the suburban homes she passes. Now and then, she stops and cocks her head to the side as if listening for something only she can hear. Then, the stroll begins again.
Her direction is erratic, doubling back and retracing itself as she meanders through the outskirts of Liberty City. On one block, she passes by the same house seven times in an hour, each time stopping to pluck a different tulip from the garden. At another, she zips past in relative haste. The only constant in her path is that as she moves closer to the center of the city her pace increases and the momentary pauses and doubling back come with less frequency. Still, even the up-tempo pace is merely a walk.
Becca’s jaunt through Liberty City continues for some time without a challenge until she arrives at a park built around a pond where she sits down on a bench at the edge of the water. Gazing out across the water, Becca hums softly to herself before looking down at her reflection.
Looking back is a blonde woman in worn jeans, mud-splattered low top converse shoes, and a loose fitting faded white shirt. Frowning in disappointment, she stops playing with her flowers and quits humming. Carefully placing the flowers on her lap, she reaches up to place her wild blonde hair into a messy ponytail using a rubber band she pulls from her wrist. Regarding herself for a few more seconds, Becca smiles and begins to hum again as she reaches down to grab the flowers again. Now visible, it is evident that her face is hardly beautiful. Still, the hint of a pretty girl hides underneath the grass stains and smudges that mar her appearance.
She sits at the bench for a few more minutes braiding the flowers into a daisy chain. Once she finishes, she places it gently atop of her head before standing and walking back the same direction she came from. Pausing as she passes by the block of homes surrounding the park, Becca cocks her head to the side as she has at many different locations throughout the city. This time, however, something is different. This time, Becca’s direction is not random. She cuts a clear line towards one of the nearby homes, pausing every few steps to listen before resuming her walk.
Upon arriving at the house, she places her ear flush with the door as if trying to hear through the wood. Faintly, from within the house is the sound of an automated voice saying. “-in a home, securely lock and cover all entrances including doors and windows. Extinguish all lights. Do not open the door for any reason.” Leaning back from the wood, Becca does not bother to listen to the rest of the broadcast. Instead, her hands rummage around in her pockets for a moment until she pulls out a lock pick.
Humming to herself as she carefully bends over, keeping her crown balanced safely on her head, Becca begins to work on the door. In a minute, she has the entrance lain bare and steps across the threshold. Walking inside, she closes the door carefully behind her. The faint sound of the radio ceases a moment later and the house, like the rest of the street and city, falls silent save for the steady whine of the alert siren.
In a different house, far from the little park and the homes that surround it, sound reverberates off the walls as two young girls argue.
“I need to go! What is so hard to understand about that?” shouts a diminutive dark haired girl.
“What’s hard to understand is why you need to leave with a freaking A1 out there, and not just any A1 but Becca! You’re going to get yourself killed Hailey!” screams back Missy Anderson.
The two girls stand at opposite ends of a couch, facing one another with red faces and high tempers. Picking up the argument again, Hailey says back in frustration, “Because I just do, please, please Missy just accept that and let me go.”
Missy says quietly in reply, “Is this about the mall? What happened with Amanda wasn’t your fault.”
Collapsing on the couch, Hailey responds, “No, this is different, I just… I have to go Missy, that’s all.”
Sitting down next to her, Missy asks, “Is it about Bella? Theo told me he thinks you were running away from her situation because of what happened to Amanda, and I-”
“I,” interrupts Hailey, “don’t care what Theo thinks.”
“Yes, you do,” replies Missy before continuing with, “Hailey you can’t keep running away from everything bad that happens. You need to face the situation, which in this case means you need to come to the basement with me and hide.”
Laughing exhaustedly, Hailey gives a terse reply, “Missy,” she says, “I’m not trying to run away, really, I’m trying to do the opposite.”
Missy grabs Hailey’s hands and looks her straight in the eyes as she says, “Hailey. You are my best friend, and I would do just about anything for you, but I am not going to let you get yourself killed over some misguided sense of survivor’s guilt!”
Pulling her hands away, Hailey stands up and hurls back her retort, “If you really were my best friend you would let me leave! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me and stop trying to tell me what to do!” Soon as the angry words leave her mouth, Hailey realizes how hurtful they must be from the expression on Missy’s face. At a loss, she has nothing to say, Missy, however, does.
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Quietly, she says, “I might not be your best friend, but you are mine. I don’t care what your reasons are, if I have to sit on you I will keep you here.”
Hailey steps back and says, “You can’t stop me. I’m sorry Missy but I can’t, I just can’t, explain why.” Her voice rises in pitch and takes on a note of hysteria as she works herself up to full steam continuing with frustration boiling over in tone, “You need to get out of my way Missy. I really just don’t have the time to have a discussion about this.”
Crossing her arms, Missy says in a disappointed voice, “My father is a detective, a paranoid detective. I could stop Theo and Jake at the same time if I wanted. And don’t worry about the time. We’ll have all we need to have this discussion once you’re safely tied up in the basement with me.” Seeing the determined look in Hailey’s eyes and knowing this conversation is past words, Missy steps forward to secure her friend.
As she does, both Hailey’s eyes seem to glimmer as Missy finds herself tripping over the rug. Falling to the floor, she cannot reach Hailey in time to stop her from racing out of the room and then down the hall and out the door into the street. Running after her, Missy is not quite fast enough to close the gap as her friend is nowhere in sight when she reaches the door.
Acutely aware of the danger, Missy quickly scans the area and then races outside the house to take a quick look around the nearby environs. Then Missy returns to the house and locks the door. Slumping to the floor with her back against the door, Missy begins to hyperventilate as she fights back tears. Fighting with herself, her hand fumbles around until it finds her phone. Once she does, she tries to call Hailey. Getting no response, she calls again. Pausing to try texting instead after the third try, Missy has a difficult time holding her phone steady enough to type a message. By now, her hands are openly shaking and the quiver in her voice betrays her terror as she prays aloud for Hailey to answer.
But Missy’s distressed calls remain unanswered as Eldritch Maiden makes her way across the city looking for trouble! She is not the only one looking for trouble tonight. In an underground bunker, a red haired girl holds a furtive conversation with her earring.
“We need to get out there,” she hisses.
“Ms. Napp,” replies an automated voice not unlike the one currently looping on the radio, “this suit is designed with a threat assessment paradigm and an emergency operator lockout function in the case of situations such as this. Our capabilities do not include confronting Becca at this time.”
Glancing about before she answers, Ginny Napp whispers in an angry tone, “We can figure out an excuse to get out of here, and then we can test our capabilities the proper way in actual combat against her!”
“I apologize Ms. Napp,” responds the voice, “but this lockout function is for your safety.”
Cursing to herself, Ginny fails to notice as her father walks up and places a hand on her shoulder. Concerned, he asks, “How are you holding up?”
Tugging at her now silent earring, Ginny whirls about and says to him, “This thing was a terrible gift!” before storming off.
Shaking his head, Napp considers the diamond stud for a moment trying to place when he bought it for her. Then he shakes his head recalling the jewelry store he bought her when she turned fourteen, evidently Ginny kept some of the stock and just as evidently her fear boiled over into frustration. Forgiving his daughter for being on edge and certain she just needs space, Napp finds himself a chair to wait out the tense night.
Racing through the city, Eldritch searches in vain for Becca. Her search instead rewards another as a barrier of golden light appears in front of her. Stepping up to the rooftop alongside her upon his golden discs, Beacon appears.
“Miss Eldritch Maiden, I suppose?” he asks in an amused tone.
In a clipped voice, Eldritch answers, “Yes. I take it if you’re here then Becca is close?”
Shaking his head, Beacon replies, “No, I haven’t found her yet. But what I’m more concerned about right now is why you’re here, care to explain?”
Incredulously, Eldritch hurls back, “Care to explain? Care to explain!? Becca is here, where else would I be!”
Lifting the pair up on a platform of light, Beacon regards the young heroine coolly before saying, “In a shelter, in your home, wherever you’d usually hide if your alter ego were your only ego.”
Pulling out her dagger, Eldritch warns, “It’s rude to jus-”
“No,” interrupts Beacon, “I am the leader here, not you. I am the only person on this platform of mine to have actual experience with an A1 before and I am the only one who has faced Becca before. So when I ask you a question, you answer it honestly and without whatever attitude or snarky comment you feel like tacking on.” Grinning, Beacon then adds with cheek, “Oh and you do it immediately too.”
Restraining herself, Eldritch grits her teeth for a moment before the tension visibly drains from her figure and she says, “I meant what I said. I’m here because Becca is here.”
Beacon gives her a nod and says, “I can respect that, but you’re not ready for her.”
“Is that because I’m a girl?” snaps Eldritch.
Frowning, Beacon gives her a complicated look before saying, “No, it’s because nobody is ever ready for Becca.”
Eldritch shifts her stance as she looks out over the city from the platform. As she does, she realizes that it has been moving the entire time. While she argued, Beacon continued to search. Humbled by the realization, her answer carries far less animus than her previous interactions.
“I’ve read about her power, I’m prepared,” says Eldritch.
“There’s a world of difference, trust me,” Beacon answers before continuing his lecture with, “She’s a real monster. Most villains want something, money, power, notoriety, but what Becca wants is…” trailing off, Beacon’s expression grows complicated.
Swallowing, Eldritch supplies, “Insane?”
Laughing at the strange statement, Beacon says, “You know, I was just at a dinner party with the daughter of my best friend.” Beacon frowns and says offhandedly, “She reminds me of you actually,” before going on, “I’ve been avoiding her for years because I didn’t want to face her. I didn’t want to see her knowing that if it wasn’t for me she’d still have her uncle and her mother.” Going off on another tangent, Beacon says to himself, “Well technically she still has her uncle, not that she knows.” Snapping back to the present, Beacon finishes by stating, “I’m telling you all this so you understand, Becca will force you to evaluate yourself. You won’t like what she shows you.”
Quietly, Eldritch answers, “I know I won’t. But this is about more than my comfort. This is about all the people she’ll hurt.”
Shrugging, Beacon says, “Well, that’s as good a reason as any. Frankly, I’m not that picky about your motivations, heck I’d stand with Hellraiser against her. What I’m trying to say is, well," Beacon pauses to collect his thoughts before continuing, "what I’m saying is that she might get inside your head, but that doesn’t mean you have to let her stay there." Almost as an afterthought he adds, "Nobody is ever ready for Becca. We all just do our best to pretend we are.”
Eldritch begins to give him a reply, but the platform stops suddenly and Beacon’s sharp intake of breath gives Eldritch pause. Looking down, she spots a distant blonde figure sitting at the edge of a pond in the park below wearing a tiara of flowers. “That’s her?” Eldritch asks.
Beacon says nothing, simply directing her attention to the pond itself and the red stained water it contains. Then, slowly he nods and mutters, “Nobody is ever ready for Becca,” before moving the platform away and down, bringing the pair to the earth a block away from the park. As he does, Eldritch sits down cross-legged and begins to chant. Her eyes light up as the energy swirls around her figure, layering complex weaves of runes and spells across her costume. Her preparations are in stark contrast to Beacon’s own. His skin and clothing simply begin to shine as the light that makes up his platform coalesces around his entire figure before sinking into the skin.
After she finishes preparing, Eldritch stands and gives her compatriot a nod. Then, together, they head towards the park. Neither speaks, the time for words is past. Now is the time for deeds, dear reader, as we shall see next week in… “She Speaks!”