The girl couldn’t help but see herself in the mirror as she stalked into the bathroom, her irritation obvious in her expression despite being partially obscured by her mask. Her reflection’s appearance only exacerbated her mounting anger, a problem made worse by a glance at the watch on her wrist.
01:52 AM
She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out through her mouth, but despite multiple repetitions, no calm settled over her. The rising tide was, however, abated by a yawn she failed to suppress. Two in the morning was a time for sleeping, not being forced to stay awake on standby for the on-going Endbringer battle. An inherently pointless act thanks to her probationary Ward status. They wouldn’t let her patrol on her own—fuck, they wouldn’t let her leave the building alone. Letting her loose in one of the largest cities in the world while it was knee deep in chaos was untenable, so why couldn’t she just get some damn sleep?!
“Stupid,” she growled to no one, her voice echoing slightly in the room full of empty stalls. “Stupid!”
“Hell yeah you are.”
Tammi whirled around to face the unknown voice, her heart thundering in her chest. The two stun batons she kept marked at all times—the only items she was allowed to control anymore—snapped into position in the air around her, crackling with electricity. Her eyes quickly scanned under the stalls, revealing a pair of feet attached to thicker legs.
Too white to be that nigger LaTonia or that wetback bitch Maria. “Who hell are you?”
“Be quiet.” The sound of a flushing toilet filled the room, then a pudgy girl with wavy brown hair stepped out. “Wouldn’t wanna give up the game too early, would you?”
Tammi scowled. ‘Be quiet’? Oh, she’d be quiet all right. She’d strangle this bitch nice and quietly. Tammi didn’t know everyone in the building, but she did know who was allowed back here, and this bitch wasn’t on the list. Not even that jap bitch Alexandria could fault her for taking down someone who broke in without authorization.
The stun batons slowly orbited around her, their tips humming dangerously. “Don’t make me repeat my question,” she hissed, her voice low and menacing.
The intruder’s bright, honey colored eyes positively glittered with something Tammi couldn’t place. She began washing her hands. “Give a girl a chance to wash her hands. Gotta say, I love that even now you’re still all piss and vinegar! Don’t remember me, huh? Well don’t worry your pea-sized nazi brain over it. You’d recognize me if I hadn’t gotten a… makeover.”
Tammi’s eyes narrowed in consideration as she slowly began to step closer. She had to wait for an opening. Strike now, and she might electrocute the bitch, and that would not go over well when she was reporting what happened. It wasn’t worth trying to ID the bitch. With how smugly she’d said that, she was probably disguised. Some glasses, different clothes, maybe a haircut and coloring, and suddenly someone you knew looked like a complete stranger. That was what the PRT had done with her after all.
Still. “Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t,” Tammi demurred, still watching her like a hawk. “Either way, I know you don’t belong here.”
“Ain’t wrong. I don’t belong here, there—anywhere.” The young woman dried her hands off with a paper towel with a mischievous grin that didn’t match the rest of her dark expression. “But you? You belong with me. So don’t even think of attacking me.”
Tammi scoffed. “Uh huh. With you. The person I don’t know.”
“Ah ah ah,” she disagreed with a waggling finger, her creepily forced grin still in place. “You know me. Remember.” The sureness with which said that left Tammi suddenly feeling unsure. She did look vaguely familiar, even if Tammi had no idea where she knew her from.
“Maybe,” she hedged. “It’d help if you just would just say where the hell I’m supposed to know you from!”
The creepy bitch started to cackle, which made Tammi’s skin crawl. Tammi started edging towards the door, rethinking her position on getting some help to deal with the obviously crazy person. The oddly familiar stranger noticed and stopped cackling. “Stop. You want to know where we know each other from.”
Tammi stomped her foot with a growl, beyond frustrated with the vagueness. “Yes! For fuck’s sake, yes! Tell me!”
“‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ Ain’t that the saying?” Shadows swept over the creep’s skin in a flash. Tammi tensed, expecting an attack, but none came. Instead, the inky black briefly parted to reveal a nigger girl with a red streak in her hair before engulfing her once againand leaving the girl with the honey eyes behind. “You ain’t no friend of mine, but we’ve got a mutual hate-on for Meteor. So I figure I can stomach having nazi trash like you work for me, Rune.”
“Shade,” Tammi snarled in recognition, incensed by the nigger scum’s superiority. “You think I’d ever work with a nig—!”
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t say shit like that around me. Don’t even think it. I’m your ticket out of here, and don’t you forget it. Recognize I’m the only way you’ll ever get a chance to put Meteor in her place, then we can get down to business.”
Tammi growled. She hated to admit it, but the bitch had a point. Still, she refused to roll over and show her belly just like that. She would comply, but she had to make a show of it. “You think you can sneak in here and order me around? You came here and broke into the LA Protectorate building for me. Looks to me like you’re the one who needs help, not the other way around.”
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Shade began to slowly advance, her malice palpable. “That what it looks like to you? Well, looks can be deceiving. Take the one I’m wearing right now. Y’know how my power works, don’tcha?”
Tammi unconsciously took a step back, berating herself for the show of weakness. “You steal people’s powers and faces.”
“Nah. Only prick who steals shit’s your pal Victor. My power’s like his, but I ain’t no thief.” Shadows whipped over her, her body changing to Othala’s, to Meteor’s, to Tammi’s, and finally back to the girl with the honey eyes. “I get close enough, and my spark remembers yours. Your body, your powers, your memories—mine, whenever I want.”
“What? That—that’s insane! Nobody has a power that strong!”
“Believe it,” Shade drawled, her teeth barred. “Be afraid. Because this spark? This face? It belongs to the Master who kidnapped Meteor, Labyrinth, and six other capes, who forced them to play along with her stupid little game, who could master entire crowds of people at once. You fuck with me? Disobey me? I’ll command you to stop breathing like the waste of oxygen you are.”
Tammi shivered, looking away. Shade had snuck her way in here, hadn’t she? That made no sense unless she really did have a crazy power at her disposal. She wasn’t bluffing. “Okay! Okay, just—w-what do you want me to do?”
“Come with me.”
Shade walked right past her, slipping past Tammi’s still crackling batons without concern. Tammi turned to follow, and her eyes widened when she saw a circular hole in the bathroom wall that led to what looked like a campsite. The rim of the hole hurt Tammi’s eyes to look at, seemingly pinching and expanding simultaneously, but neither Shade nor the person leaning against the interior of the frame seemed concerned.
Shade stepped through, stopped, and looked back over her shoulder. “And ditch the batons. They’ve got trackers in them.”
The batons clattered on the ground. Shade was right—she was the only way out. If that meant working with someone like her…?
Tammi stepped through the portal and didn’t look back.
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“The battle against the Nothung, the new Endbringer that attacked New York is over, but tensions are still high after a shocking turn of events on Governor’s Island, just off the shore of New York. As is ever the case when one of these scourge attacks, the opposition assembled to fight them off is a group effort, but sometimes one cape’s efforts proves integral. Many call these individuals ‘Hopebringers,’ but you may also recognize them by their other name, the Triumvirate, so called because there have never been more than three of them at a time.
“While the Triumvirate’s roster has changed over the years and has only once before included a villain, today saw the apparent death of the reclusive Tinker Dragon—more on that shortly—after which a cape by the name of Meteor worked together with the famously elusive hero Adam to drive away the Endbringer. A known affiliate of a mercenary group based out of Brockton Bay, Meteor struck the Endbringer twice from above with her namesake, delivering cataclysmic blows while Adam kept the force of the impacts contained to the Endbringer itself.
“If only the story stopped there,” the other anchor remarked, taking over the narrative from their colleague. “Immediately after the Endbringer retreated, the world-famous Amy Dallon, also known as Panacea, quickly set about healing the wounds of the grievously injured Meteor. This resulted in the new Hopebringer sweeping Panacea up in a kiss that quickly led to a confrontation between Meteor and Panacea’s sister, Victoria Dallon AKA ‘Glory Girl.’ It was during this confrontation that Glory Girl made a shocking accusation: Panacea, who is well known for being a healer, had mastered Meteor into loving her by purportedly changing her brain.
“Legend was quick to break up the fight and secure Thinkers to verify Glory Girl’s claim, and as unthinkable as it is, multiple Thinkers confirmed it was true: Panacea had mastered Meteor. Everyone present was horrified, but none more so than Meteor herself, who brutally killed Panacea on the spot before submitting herself into Legend’s custody. Opinions of those on the scene were split, but while there were those appalled by Meteor’s flagrant, public attack, the majority of those interviewed voiced support for Meteor. Although the reasons for this support varied, it seems the world may still stand behind its newest Hope—”
Tammi speared the remote through the TV with a snarl, prompting a cry of outrage from Riptide that she ignored. “Goddammit! She kills fucking Panacea, and she still gets away wi—?!”
“Shut up.” Tammi’s mouth snapped shut with a click, her eyes wide with worry as Shade fixed her with furious, honey-colored eyes. “Stop and try to use that dried up raisin y’got for a brain for once,” she hissed. “Get angry at Meteor, not the goddamn TV, shit-for-brains!”
“S-Sorry, Shade,” Tammi stammered in apology, ignoring Droste’s sniggering as they drew from the pile of cards between them and Shamichoro.
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get us a new TV,” the still pissed off Riptide bit out. Luckily, his anger changed targets a moment later when he summoned some water to extinguish the small fire Burnscar had begun to kindle in her hands. “You not listening to this? Shade told us not to damage anything!”
“But I didn’t burn anything!” the crazy girl protested, her eyes still somewhat glassy from the flame’s recent proximity. Tammi anxiously eyed the decidedly flammable trees surrounding the campsite.
“Yet,” Parian calmly and smoothly interjected, not bothering to look up from the witch costume she was weaving together for Tammi. She might have been grateful if the freak would take off her creepy as fuck doll mask instead of continuing to wear. “You have a track record.”
Burnscar pouted but didn’t disagree, and Shade, who had yet to stop staring Tammi down with those haunting eyes, ordered, “Go into the city and steal a new one from one of those big chain stores. Droste, would you keep an eye on her?”
“Sure thing, boss lady,” Droste drawled as they tossed their cards into the discard pile. They stood with a languid stretch, the movement sending their long ponytail lolling over their shoulder while the air nearby began to warp, folding in on itself while nevertheless expanding out into a concise ring large enough for someone to walk through. Framed within the gateway was a copse of trees at the edge of a parking lot—far enough away that no one was near. Droste stepped right through without hesitation, twisting on their heel to crook a finger at Tammi. “You comin’, sug?”
Tammi grumbled but moved to follow without complaint.
“Oh, and Droste? Rune?” The two of them paused, looking back to Shade, who had resumed looking at the laptop in her lap. “Don’t be long. We’re moving out when you get back.”
That attracted everyone’s attention, including Parian, who looked up from her work and asked, “Where are we off to?”
“I found our next member.”
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[Flautist logged on]
Eve: Did you make the change?
Flautist: Yeah.
Eve: No sign she noticed?
Flautist: She was distracted, considering the situation.
Eve: Good job. I’ll contact you when I require your services further.
Flautist: Wait.
Eve: ?
Flautist: Things like this… they’ll really matter in the end?
Eve: A butterfly flaps its wings…
Flautist: And a tornado, sure. I mean, that is what you do.
Flautist: I’m just worried. Is a tornado enough?
Eve: David felled Goliath with less.
Flautist: I should have expected that metaphor from you…
Eve: Thank you for your faith. I promise it is not misplaced.
Eve: Again, good job. I’ll be in touch.
Flautist: Okay. Night, I guess.
[Flautist logged off]