Petty Roswell had been an attorney for a long time, although she knew very little of the actual methodology of debate, representing clients, and supplying evidence. But these were all just the trappings—the frills—of a far more important game. Roswell was sitting next to her employer, the gangster (although recently she had become more of a serial killer), Pepper Morgan. Anybody with a bit of mass between their ears could see that she had killed that detective, but it was her job to make it so that the people didn’t have anything between their ears.
Roswell had decided to go for a brief stroll during her recess, examining the courtrooms, peeking her head into the legal proceedings and checking out the court’s majesty at work. Outside, she had also walked past Dominic, who’d sullenly stepped out of the courtroom for a drink of water, head hung. She had felt sort of bad for him. “Hello, Dominic,” said Roswell, walking up to him. “Gripping trial we’re having, eh?”
“Trial’s not really the right word for it, huh Roswell?” Dominic answered, leaning against one of the columns, closing his body posture with a cross of his arms and a refusal to make eye contact.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a sore loser. You know this is how—”
“I haven’t lost yet.”
“Haven’t you?” she chuckled, dusting off her suit like the thespian that she was.
“No. We still have more arguments. And I believe in the system, Roswell. I know the people will make the right choice. Even if you don’t believe in it.”
“Of course I believe in the system! I just believe in a different system than you do. Dominic, even with your nerdy ‘Let’s let the facts decide’ approach, disparities still existed. Do you think if we just got rid of Civs, your system would rise to power, where everything’s fair? Nothing has ever been fair, Dominic. Now it’s just unfair in a more stylish way.” Dominic scowled. “Quit being so cynical, Dominic! Have some fun.” Roswell made a playful jab at Dominic’s shoulder, but he grabbed it and made hostile eye contact with Roswell.
“I can’t prove this, as I didn’t get the names of their Civs, but I’m almost certain that your client, Pepper Morgan, has sent multiple people to assassinate me. And I’ve been remarkably calm about it, for some reason. I’m normally a very nervous and self-conscious person, but I wasn’t worried about being in the same courtroom as a person who wants to murder me. Would you like to know why?”
The traces of fear crept into Roswell’s eyes. “You’re a lot more intense now than in law school.”
“Because I know that there must be a reason. Must be a reason why somebody is trying to kill me. Why you’re out here right now trying to subdue me—placate me. Stop me. Stop me from what, Roswell? I have my theories, and they’re all possible, but the one I’m operating under”—Dominic leaned in—“is that you know I can win.” With that, Dominic released her wrist.
Stolen story; please report.
Roswell rubbed the abrasion, eyeing Dominic with disgust before walking off to finish her recess.
Suddenly, Dominic saw Aria and Thomas walk out of the courtroom.
“Dominic!” Aria shouted. “I know who the Civ user is!”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She pointed back through the open courtroom door at an elderly woman sitting on one of the benches. “Her. It’s the perfect cover. You dress up as an old lady, and then nobody suspects you!” Aria explained, making elaborate hand motions with each word she said. Thomas was nodding along in support.
“But you suspected her?”
Thomas and Aria were quiet. They looked at each other and then back at Dominic. “Fuck, you’re good!” Thomas shouted. “Welp, I’m all out of ideas. You sounded a lot more confident in your ability to find the Civ user than you really should’ve been huh?”
“Whatever,” she answered, rolling her eyes.
“She isn’t the Civ user anyways. I know who it is,” Dominic answered.
“Really? Who?” the two non-legal professionals answered in unison, their one brain cell having been halfway between them at that moment, allowing them both to have one thought at the same time.
“I’m not telling you. You’ll just go after her.”
“Oh, it’s a her? That doesn’t narrow it down much. Could you accidentally let slip a few more juicy details?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t want you to go after her. I’m not going to engage in that kind of petty side-on-side warfare. I’m going to settle this the actual legal way. With petty side-on-side derision. And mean personal comments before immediately saying ‘Withdrawn’ before they can object. The way the system was built,” Dominic said before walking back into the courtroom. “God, this happens every time I face her,” Dominic whispered, shaking his head in frustration.
“So . . . what now?” Thomas asked, turning to Aria. Suddenly a tiny flesh cube with an ear on it crawled over to Aria, made its way up her arm, and entered a large square hole where her ear should have been.
Aria looked over at the defence attorney, the woman with long black hair and dark glasses walking over to near the women’s washroom. Aria reflected on what she had heard while eavesdropping on Dominic. “Oh, I know exactly what we should do now.”
* * *
Roswell was washing her hands in the women’s room and getting herself cleaned up to make her big finish against Dominic and secure her victory when suddenly a woman with a pink pixie cut walked in. She had seen her before—speaking with Dominic after the two had interacted. The woman didn’t enter a stall the way a person there for normal reasons would. Instead, she leaned casually against the row of sinks and began to speak. “Roswell, right? Crazy trial we’re having, huh?” she asked.
“Um, yes. It’s interesting,” Roswell answered, her discomfort in her voice apparent. “Can I help you?” she finally asked after drying off her hands.
“Yes, actually. Are you a Civ user by chance?”
“What? No, I’m a lawyer. It’s highly frowned upon.” Roswell lied, keeping her tone steady. She knew how to do it. She was a defence attorney after all.
Aria didn’t seem to care. She already knew she was a Civ user and frankly wasn’t smart enough to pick up on the subtleties that someone telling the truth would display. “All right. That was mostly a rhetorical question, and the answer was ‘I’m going to punch you as revenge for what you did to my brother,’ ” Aria said, clenching her fists.
“Rhetorical questions don’t have an—” BAM.
Roswell answered before a fist flew directly into her face, breaking her glasses and sending her flying into the black metal wall. “What the fuck?!” she shouted, wiping blood off of her nose. Roswell was lying against the wall, groaning before she sent out a jet of bright-red liquid from the tip of her finger at Aria, who was unable to dodge.
“Is this pen ink or something, what is this?” Aria answered, looking at the splatter on her hand and at the drops on the door.
“You wish. HEARTBREAKDOWN!” Roswell shouted, looking on as Aria’s right arm suddenly began to disassemble itself. Aria watched as well as it cleanly fell off of her shoulder and onto the ground, leaving no trace of a wound, before that same red liquid shot out of the severed arm causing cracks to appear on its surface, like an egg hatching. Then, it began transforming itself into a slab of meat, a bone, a pool of blood, and other miscellaneous and uniformly strange components, all lying in clean piles on the ground. Roswell had stood up at this point. “So, you’ve figured it out, huh? The power of my Heartbreakdown is the ability to turn any object into its fundamental components. In your arm’s case, it’s now a useless bundle of various disconnected meats and elements.”