Despite her best efforts, Missy just couldn’t figure out who she could give one of Folder’s buds to. It was a big decision, and she just didn’t have enough non-cape friends that she thought would make a good cape. She had already let Folder pick some random person the first time, but it just led to the Empire getting another cape, one that was classified as a Shaker 9 before Lung killed him. She was only rated an eight, being able to affect anything non-living, even solid objects, was a decisive advantage that she lacked. But it meant she felt responsible for ensuring that it goes to someone who would be an ally instead of an enemy.
Really, it was her fault. She didn’t really… connect much with the other children in school. Not that she didn’t try, but… it was difficult for her normally, being a cape and having to be so secretive with her identity like that put a gulf that she just couldn’t cross.
The good news was that when she inevitably died, probably to an Endbringer or some other high-class threat… few would miss her as she moved on to her next life. So she was wandering the boardwalk, trying to find… something. Maybe she’ll make a friend that’s a bit older, more palatable to give superpowers to. Maybe she’ll find some trouble, and get to cheer herself up by happening to that trouble.
“Hey.” Said a blonde girl, slightly dirty but dressed richly, like she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. She seemed a little young, but there was a good chance she had stayed the night having sex at someone else’s house and just hadn’t returned home yet. She was sitting at one of the many benches with a good view of the Protecterate HQ, the forcefield-protected oil rig in the bay. Her face scrunched up in disgust. “I know that look. Even on a ten year old.” She was twelve, but it was an easy mistake to make. “Twelve.” She corrected herself, “I did not spend last night doing that. Ew.” Oh. She was asexual. She didn’t really remember what it felt like to be disgusted at sex, but she couldn’t judge this random girl for that. “...I regret everything.” She said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
“Everyone’s first experience drinking is rough.” Missy said sympathetically, patting her on the knee. “It’s probably for the best that you take this as a learning experience, and stay away from the stuff.”
“...You know what? Sure. I have a hangover, let’s go with that.” The girl said, scooting aside as Missy took a seat next to her.
“Here.” Missy offered the girl her water bottle and some aspirin from her purse, which she mostly had because Fairy Dancer had the tactical pouch on her lower back, so it was important to differentiate that kind of thing. “This should help.” Even if it wasn’t an actual hangover, it should help.
“Thanks.” The girl said, opening the sealed bottle and downing the medicine. “You are the craziest person I have ever seen.” She said vehemently.
“Guilty.” Missy admitted, “But what brought this on?”
“One second, you’re scoping out people like a millionaire with cancer, the next, you’re Granny fucking Goodness.” The girl said. Hm. That was a frighteningly clear perception.
[Query]
[Data]
Ah, she is a thinker. Negotiator, huh? Meant to decrypt data streams, but with several supplementary combat functions, although Folder didn’t know exactly which functions Negotiator lent their host. Neat. “What the hell was that?” The girl asked.
“We should probably get to names.” Missy said calmly, changing the subject. “I’m Missy. You are?”
“...Lisa.” She lied, before frowning. “That is the name I’m using now.” She insisted.
“So you are a runaway.” Missy said, humming smugly. “I suspected as much from your…” She gestured vaguely at Lisa. “...condition.”
“It was one of seven things you suspected.” Lisa said, correctly. “Now what the hell did you just do?” The level of anger on Lisa’s face told the story quite well: she was too confused to be smug, and she hated that.
Missy frowned. “I’m assuming you are aware of…” She made a vague shrinking gesture.
“Yeah, and by the way, I know your family sucks, trust me I know how that goes, but you really need to find something to live for.” Lisa lectured.
With a huff of amusement, Missy waved her hand vaguely. “Just know that I have a secondary power that can, on occasion, give me vague details on parahuman powers.” It was close enough to the truth.
Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t need to dumb it down for me.” She said, clearly offended.
“It’s the relevant detail, an adequate summary.” Missy insisted, “I know that your power’s primary mechanism is decryption, if that helps. Without a more invasive probe, I couldn’t tell you details.” if by ‘invasive probe’ she means ‘convince Folder to communicate with Negotiator for data’. Might not even work against a socially-tuned shard, it may have information security protocols, which Folder had warned her about during past discussions.
“...Okay, that tracks.” Lisa murmured, “But back to you: Stop throwing yourself at villains so recklessly. You are not invincible.” But she is immortal. “No you are not.” Lisa insisted, wrongly. “I really wish I didn’t know why Piggot would ignore the fact that her star Ward is a delusional psychopath.”
“Hey!” Missy said, offended. “I am not delusional nor a psychopath.” Huffing, she stood up. “Come on, I want a soda. My treat.” It was also a peace offering, giving the girl a chance to leave without losing face… as long as she could muster the nerve of contesting Missy’s power play and reject that generosity politely.
Without even looking back at her new friend, Missy walked to the gas station’s convenience store, which was technically not part of the Boardwalk, but was right next to it. Inside, there was a soda fountain where one could purchase unwise quantities of carbonated sugarwater for a single dollar. As Wards pay was double minimum wage after the one-year probationary period where it was just minimum wage, on top of the 50,000 dollar per year trust fund (which was not taxable income because the federal government can just do that), Missy typically had, after the minor taxes she was subject to, 300-ish dollars every week that she couldn’t really spend unless she could pin it on whichever parent wasn’t the one asking questions. This was on top of her parents each giving her a fifty dollar a week allowance, because despite hating each other they also had proper middle-class jobs, her father a pharmaceutical salesman while her mother worked in human resources. Granted, her mother wasn’t very good at her job, in Missy’s expert opinion, but her boss was super racist so her mediocre performance still kept her in the office.
This meant she ended up buying an awful lot of snacks and sweets. It helped that the regenerative effects of leaving her breaker state meant she didn’t get cavities. Folder tends to mention the various injuries, diseases, and other health issues they clean up when re-printing her a fresh body, and one of the earliest ones he mentioned was a cavity she had accrued on one of her baby teeth, as she was mere weeks into the months long process of losing them. Naturally, she switches often enough that there’s no time for more of the long term issues to appear. She figures that if she started gaining too much weight she could convince Folder to modify that minor problem away. It wouldn’t be the first life she let her discipline slip when it came to maintaining a healthy lifestyle only to cheat with magic, and it would not be the last. She speaks from experience: it was very difficult to maintain discipline around denial when you know that your self-torture was meaningless.
After Missy got her cherry-flavored bad decision, Lisa stared at the machine, a germaphobic cringe (startlingly similar to Sheldon, actually) on her face as she looked over her options. Eventually, she poured herself a ginger ale. “Do you have any idea when this was last cleaned?” She asked Missy.
“Meh. Food poisoning is for the weak.” Missy said nonchalantly. She had once cured herself of a nasty case of it in a moment of weakness, only having to fake having it for the rest of the day. Wasn’t fun, but as long as she could hide the initial symptoms she’ll be fine.
Lisa scowled at her, grumbling jealously. She took the long way around the aisles of the convenience store, picking up a few other items and wordlessly daring Missy to pay for them. With an amused grin, Missy paid with two twenties, and dropped the change into Lisa’s purse. “Good thinking.” She whispered, pointing at the hygiene items that were definitely going to be needed eventually.
“My hero.” Lisa said sarcastically, sipping at her soda while slipping the plastic shopping bag into her fortunately large purse. It was less conspicuous than a backpack, presumably.
Once they were outside, walking along the beach, Missy coughed. “Look, clearly you have your reasons for avoiding the government.” She began.
“Yep.”
“Given that you probably know more than I do about the PRT’s systems, I’m assuming it’s related to your family situation.” Missy continued, “Given your previous comment, and the fact that it’s the one kind of problem that I can’t confidently state the Wards program can solve for you.” It doesn’t for her, anyway. CPS in this world is hilariously overburdened, to the point where she’s read a few horror stories on the internet of third cousins getting random orphans dumped on them and guilted into taking them in.
No, getting away from those shitty parents would be impractical. Manipulating them into not interfering too much with her own life is much easier. “You’ve got the gist of it.” Lisa says, rather pointedly.
Hm. Missy had slipped a little bit too much into maternalistic condescension. Dialing that back… “I could always use more friends, it’s one of the reasons I’m just wandering around.” She said instead, “But if you need a place to crash, I have a bolthole I’m 80% sure the PRT doesn’t know about.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Can I even fit into the entrance?” She asked incredulously.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I’m 99% certain the PRT doesn’t know about those.” Missy said, waving off her concerns. “No, this one doesn’t require powers to access.” The Number Man, in another hint that he was a PRT-controlled operative meant to spy on villains, claimed to control the financial firm that the Wards trust funds were in, and if such a Ward happened to contact the black market cape banker, was perfectly willing to ‘accept tips on prudent investments’ from his clients. And then give a Ward access to the assets purchased with that Ward’s money. Like the beachfront motel she now ‘owned’ near the boardwalk… for certain definitions of ‘near’. “I’d recommend clearing out if PHO explodes with something that the Director can’t cover up, but until then it’s yours.” Missy wrote down the instructions for how to get the front desk person to give her the key to the secret suite, and handed them over.
Lisa stared at Missy uncomprehendingly. “...How many personalties do you have?” She asked, clearly frustrated.
“Eleven at most.” Missy said, before pausing. “...Twelve.” She corrected, “If you count- well, I’ll count them.” Folder kind of counted. “I’m not about to go on a killing spree, no matter what you think,” She’s had far too many of those in her last life, short as it was. Going into another violent life was not a very well thought out decision in hindsight. She still kind of wanted to be a schoolteacher, but odds were low she’d live that long. “-and if you want to pay me back?” She paused, playing into Lisa’s inaccurate guess of multiple personality disorder to show her the authority of the Lady Uchiha. “Don’t.” Don’t cause trouble, don’t betray her, don’t give her any intel that she’d need to act on. “Clear?”
“Crystal.”
---------------------------------
Unfortunately, Lisa didn’t listen to her, and a few months after that meeting where she tried to be a faceless thinker-for-hire called Investigator instead joined a team of teenage thieves known as the Undersiders as the cape Tattletale, also severing any points of contact. Missy was disappointed that she had misjudged the girl so severely, but when a cape basically reveals themselves to you out of concern for your life (after you cut through the cynicism), and had the guts to become a runaway, that they’d at least tough it out for a bit longer…
Still, as a favor to her for reminding Missy of how far she had drifted from sanity, she won’t connect Lisa’s two identities to the PRT, so as to provide a refuge in the event that moonlighting as a cat burglar lost its appeal.
On that note, Missy was beginning to get a little bored of being a Ward. Yes, there was the thrill of giving the Youth Guard coronaries by beating most of the Protecterate’s criminal take-ins, and all of them on a per-hour basis… but fighting base thugs got old, and the angry amateurs with power but little training weren’t that much better.
Well, okay: it probably wouldn’t be as boring if she had more freedom to engage, and could do more than just fight criminals who were blatantly committing crime in the light of day. Cape fights that popped up in time for her to be able to engage before being ordered to avoid it were rare enough that they didn’t happen very often, and she couldn’t go attack villain strongpoints, like the dogfighting clubs that the villain Hellhound was hitting for reasons that the PRT speculated were so she could have more combat-capable hounds to empower, a classic minion-master behavior among those few who controlled animals. Granted, if you knew anything about animal fighting rings, that was a stupid move for a mind controller, as that meant you were collected injured, maimed, and starved examples of the canine species. You’d be better off hitting a dog show where they presented hunting and herding breeds.
But… Rachel Lindt’s file made it clear that she was not only uneducated, but likely neurodivergent on top of that. Well, ‘clear’ may be an exaggeration, and Missy also suspected the initial incident was poorly investigated, but she didn’t have full access to the files, just tactically relevant data, some background facts and speculation in a hopeless attempt of having the heroes avoid pushing trigger trauma (Missy knew for a fact that she was the only Ward that actually read them, until Gallant did so. He was diligent like that, her favorite coworker), and the information on her warrant.
She did eventually find someone she could pass a bud to; while her initial idea of stirring the pot and letting Director Piggot trigger had its appeal, Folder vetoed it on the basis of her health. Instead, she found a PRT trooper in the gym that reminded her of her old friend Lergen, and also a little bit of Commander Shepard, Lee, and Goku, and decided to ask the muscular man about working out. With Folder’s agreement with the plan, after a few weeks of pestering him and getting him to help her with her own workouts, the man was caught up in a fight and triggered with pure shaker powers, manipulating space in a similar manner to her, with the exception that he could warp solid objects, only being blocked by living things inhabiting the space.
There were some… uncomfortable questions asked, but Missy passed it off as just a childish crush, and pretended to be properly disappointed when Mr. Romano turned her down to her face. But still, Resolution was a fine hero and they did allow her to give him a boot camp when it came to manipulating space, which was good because he fumbled with it a lot more; Folder had to save macros for actions Missy could do on the fly without trouble.
Now, Missy wasn’t quite clear on why the other Wards got the impression that Missy had transferred her affections to Gallant, but it was a beneficial misunderstanding so she may have fed the fires a bit. It was easy; Glory Girl was genuinely aggravating and their constant on-again, off-again standard teenage relationship was unpleasant even when she had to deal with Mary’s first few attempts to ensnare her husband, and it didn’t become any more pleasant to watch now.
But the end of the unsteady calmness, the precariously balanced low levels of conflict, all began when Armsmaster brought in Lung, also known as the guy who turns into an alien space dragon. It occurred, by sheer bad luck, between the pan-asian gang recruiting Bakuda, a tinker who was a grenade version of Stinger who used the savings in delivery systems to double down on exotic ordinance, and her actual debut, where Lung’s metaphorical deadman switch would actually be able to be known about and accounted for.
Nothing like having a literal terrorist bombing campaign to relax the restrictions the Wards are under. She thought they’d intensify, but she found more action during that bomb threat securing ordinance after Resolution fucked up and got his bones deleted by one of Bakuda’s nastier payloads.
After that was finally dealt with… Missy got to fight her first Endbringer. The one she most wanted to fight, too! Leviathan destroyed the anime industry, and she never forgave him for that. More relevantly, it was the Endbringer she could probably fight best, with an inorganic breaker state.
Not that her power made much of a difference. Well, that’s being too critical of her contributions: her space warping did a rather good job protecting the city from the waves, and the city didn’t completely collapse, as was warned as a possibility…
But the city was still devastated and many people died. Including several people she knew. Criminals took over the city even more than they already had, and the rule of law was… weak.
It burned, to feel so powerless. Worse, she couldn’t really see a way that would have ended in any way that was an improvement. As useful as her powers were, they still paled in comparison to the potency of the rule of law. Just like before, as Tanya, she could only draw upon the authority of the Imperial Army in order to get anyone to listen to her, only after exerting that authority was she able to accrue fame and respect independent of the Silver Wings Assault badge.
If Missy tried to do what the Undersiders did, she’d need to become a tyrant to have any chance of seizing enough control to be able to improve lives. Even if she did… Missy never liked breaking rules. She did it, of course, when she was on her self-appointed task to save the galaxy from the Reapers, she broke lots of rules. But here? She couldn’t save the planet, much less a galaxy.
When the new Director, assisted by the precognitive girl, came up with that stupid plan to push the Undersiders, she refused to participate. To prove she was serious… she went home. Hopefully Dennis was listened to when he explained how serious such a move was, but despite it being a juvenile move, pretty much the only tool you had when it came to opposing the PRT as a Ward was turning their own rules against them.
How this led to Alexandria’s death, Missy would never understand. Well, she did learn the sequence of events, but she would never understand why the woman thought that torture would lead to a desired end. Arrogance, she assumed. Her own belief in her invincibility and the fact that she was already tainted by the reveal of her power-selling conspiracy meant she didn’t think that there would ever be any negative consequences for her, personally.
Well, Missy agreed that Skitter managing to kill Alexandria was still pretty out there, but she could think of several other ways Skitter could have made Alexandria regret that move, from beyond the grave even. She learned that much when she was still in her second life, stupid as she was at the time. How far people would go…
Still, apparently Skitter decided to turn herself in shortly after that, due to predictions that Jack Slash would end the world. Missy made sure that she got a chance to guard her as the transport to Chicago was arranged. “I’ve always wondered…” Missy said, inviting Skitter to conversation.
The intense girl stared at Missy impassively. She did, however, make eye contact, so Missy continued: “Did Lisa ever tell you anything about me?” Missy asked.
Ski-Taylor exhaled sharply. “...She said a few things.” Taylor said vaguely. “That you met, that you helped her out before she got conscripted by Coil.”
“Ah, so that’s what happened.” MIssy said, nodding to herself. “I was quite disappointed in her, you know. Becoming a criminal after I extended a helping hand, wasting the effort I expended trying to prevent exactly that.” She sighed. “But I know what that’s like, getting your choices narrowed enough that you end up doing things you’ll regret later just to claim a scrap of agency…” Missy often wondered, after they defeated the Reapers, how much more time they’d have bought if she sounded the alarm on the Prothean ruins and found Javik sooner. What the effects of such a thing would be. She had long settled the similar questions about her time with the Empire, but this situation also matched that. Tattletale portrayed herself as something of a thrillseeker, a classic evil-feels-good villain. Feeling as though one had a gun pointed at their head… even if she knew now that she had a lot more wiggle room than she gave herself at the time, she still thought that a firing squad was one failure away for most of the war. “But from what I understand, she’s taken over Coil’s business, so she’s kind of lost the moral high ground there. You have too, although not as badly.”
“...She also said that you had multiple personalities.” Taylor continued, “Which one am I speaking to?”
Missy snorted. “Your understanding of the condition is flawed, even if I had it. But I’m Missy, if you were asking my name, Taylor.”
Taylor nodded stiffly. “Lisa’s not always right.” She said, more to remind herself than anything else. “So why do you scare her so much?”
“Well, if you look at the research, “ Or ask Folder, “Thinkers typically trigger because they don’t know something. I would wager there was some kind of mystery involved in your own crisis,” Taylor didn’t flinch, but her eyes hardened at the allusion, “-but it means that most of them have a certain level of paranoia around things they do not know or understand.” Missy waved vaguely. “Personally, even though I don’t know why you decided to submit to government authority, I was mostly just curious about Tattletale. Thank you for indulging me.”
“The world will end in two years.” Taylor said bluntly.
Missy blinked. “Wow, I’m going to break another record for the earliest death, that’s just swell.” Wait, should she count the clone life as shorter? It feels wrong, given how it was a repeat and she was a full grown man. “-youngest death.” She decided to say to correct herself.
Taylor’s face continued to be impassive. “You’re a time traveler?” She asked incredulously.
“Serial reincarnator, actually.” Missy said, waving it off. “Different lives, different universes. Haven’t been a superhero before, thought it’d be fun.” She frowned. “It’s not as fun as I’d hoped. Signing up for the Wards was a bit of a mistake, but I’m stuck with it.” Much like how she refused to commit suicide the last time she was Missy, she’ll keep going even with mistakes. It’s a slippery slope that she refuses to go down.
Missy could see the exact moment that Taylor decided that Missy was just crazy. “You can’t just trigger on purpose.” She said dismissively.
“I don’t need you to believe me.” Missy said dismissively. “That’s a suckers game. Lisa just probably sensed via whatever her power actually does that I’ve killed before and it scared her. I’ll admit I was kind of going through the motions when I met her.” Her file said it was most probably some kind of direct hypercognition rather than anything precognitive or postcognitive, as she blatantly uses cold reading techniques and verbal provocations in conflicts. “I think I’ll commit to true pacifism in the next life, even if it kills me. Try harder to bond with my family, even if they suck as much as these ones.”
There was a moment of silence, then Taylor asked the obvious question: “How many?” She asked. “Did you kill, I mean?”
“In this life, deaths attributed to me are less kills, and more failures to preserve life.” Missy said, “But if you count the ones I fought and died as a result of that battle, probably about eight, all violent criminals. All of which were this year, incidentally.” She wouldn’t be able to get away with claiming innocence. Not after what she did to Crawler. ”In the others? A lot. Wars, mostly. I think the record is still from my first war, though. Well, as long as you only count sapients.” Husks did not count.
“...Yeah, I understand.” Taylor said, actually gaining a small amount of shame when Missy scolded her by pointing out that all of her kills were because of Bakuda, the Nine, et al. “Why’d you join them?”
“The first one, because I didn’t have a choice.” Missy said bluntly. “I made decisions within that possibility space, but I didn’t see a way out of it at the time. I was only in my second life, and didn’t expect it to keep happening. The more recent ones, I imagine for a similar reason you’re signing up for your little mini-war with the Nine. I saw the opportunity to make a difference, so I took steps.” Also experiments, but she’s not going to bother talking about that with Taylor.
“...Do you think we can win?” Taylor asked, quieter than anything else.
Missy shrugged. “Not really, but there’s nothing we can do but to try our best anyway. Just like Leviathan.” Or descend into hedonism, but actually saying that would ruin the mood. “If we just lay down and accept death, we would lose something fundamental that makes us human.”
“We will not go gently into that good night.” Taylor quoted, smiling gently.
Despite telling someone about her status for the first time, Missy never expected the target of her little pep talk to go on to do what she did. Unfortunately, Missy didn’t survive the apocalyptic battle, dying as one of thousands while being unable to control her own body, but it’s not like she expected that life to end well anyway, so she just moved on.
Now, with this new ability to partially determine their status in life, let’s see how much they can control: She wants to be a tall Japanese boy named Tenya with a good family. Let’s see how much of that they get.
Peaceful life, here they come.