56 - fics I read - CHERREADS

Main Content

Archive of Our Own betaArchive of Our OwnLog In

FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search

tip: austen words:10000-50000 sort:title

Actions

Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Hide Creator's Style Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex

Categories:

F/FGen

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Amy Dallon & Theo AndersAmy Dallon & Heith AndersAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares

Characters:

Additional Tags:

E88!Amy DallonChanger!Amy DallonTrans Female CharacterBody DysmorphiaBigotry & PrejudiceInternalized BigotryNazisSexual AssaultChild Abusechild sexual assaultcannot stress enough that this fic has nazis doing nazi shitthe least incestuous guts&glory ficyou're welcome/i'm sorry depending on your preferencesthere will be explicit sex scenes in this ficbut most of them will not be purposefully eroticif extremely repressed teens pawing at each other does something for youfar be it from me to deny you that

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2025-02-04Updated:2026-02-04Words:161,471Chapters:28/49Comments:739Kudos:336Bookmarks:73Hits:19,486

Broken Crown

thevalleyarchive

Chapter 5: Ozymandias 1.5

Notes:

This chapter is particularly intense and warrants its own content warnings.

Content Warnings (Spoilers)

Chapter Text

Then:

It was with some trepidation that Amelia returned for more power testing the following day. She'd spent much of the previous evening anxiously checking and rechecking her reflection in the mirror, unable to shake the certainty that something had reformed wrong. Eventually, Heith had taken her into the en-suite bathroom she shared with Mr. Anders for a bath in their massive tub, and Heith's thorough, gentle scrubbing of her entire body and repeated reassurances that she looked perfectly normal had finally put her anxieties to rest.

Amelia's anxieties about her anxieties were not so easily dealt with, however. It had taken hours after returning home from her session with James for that creeping feeling of wrongness to steal over her; what was to stop it from returning now that she'd let her guard down? But Heith had been adamant that she needed more testing. Allfather wanted to know what she could do, and wouldn't she feel more at ease for knowing too?

She didn't think she would, but for the first time the idea of contradicting Heith had made Amelia feel afraid, so she hadn't.

James greeted them with a warm smile. "It's a delight to see you again Amelia."

Amelia was of two minds about whether she could say the same, so she settled for, "Hi."

"Please come in." He ushered them over to the cluster of couches. "You'll be remaining here this time Heith?"

"I've brought some paperwork to do while you test," Heith confirmed, then looked at Amelia. "I don't think anything that scary will happen again, but I'll be here for you if it does, okay?" She gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

Amelia squeezed back.

"Before we get started properly, let's do a check in," James said, flipping open his notepad. "Amelia, have you used your power since you left here yesterday?"

She shook her head.

"That's alright. If you look at our potentials and your own, do you feel like you could use your power?"

Amelia looked, then nodded.

"Amelia," James said coaxingly, "I'm going to need you to use your words for me. I understand if you're nervous after yesterday, but we aren't going to make very much progress if you can't talk to me. Do you understand?"

She started to nod, then caught herself. "Yes," she said, her voice faint and quavery. Heith gave her hand another squeeze, and Amelia willed herself to take as much comfort from it as she would have yesterday, before she knew . "Yes," she said, louder.

"Excellent." James smiled again. "Do you feel like you could change me and Heith, or just yourself?"

"I could change you and me," she answered. "I never feel like I can change Heith."

James's eyebrows shot up. "Never?" He jotted something down. "Does she not have a bud of potential, or does it feel particularly rigid? Or something else entirely?"

"It feels stretchy. Like if I pushed a change, it would bounce right back."

"Fascinating. Have you noticed anyone else who feels the same to your power?"

Amelia shook her head. "No," she added hastily.

" Fascinating ," James repeated. He looked genuinely delighted. Heith, on the other hand, looked surprised. "Heith, I'd like to discuss having you participate in some of our testing going forward. Probably not today, as we've yet to establish a baseline for her power usage on others, but the implications of this could be monumental. My first instinct is that it could indicate some sort of power interaction, but I can't imagine how your power would affect hers that Jessica's wouldn't."

"Neither can I," Heith said. She pursed her lips, looking baffled. "I'll look at my schedule and get in touch with you about my future availability."

"Wonderful." James turned back to Amelia. "Would you say that it feels like it would be as easy to use your power on you or I as normal? Or does it seem like there might be some lingering strain from yesterday?"

Amelia considered. "I… I think it feels normal." She hadn't really thought about how it "usually" felt before.

"And did you happen to notice when your power started going back to normal?"

"No."

"Shame." Another quick note, and then James set down his pad. "Try to keep an eye on that in the future, when you've used your power enough that using it more starts to feel difficult. Knowing how long it takes to rest back up, and whether that time is uniform or influenced by other factors, could be very helpful to you in the future."

"Okay."

James stood up. "Alright then," he said, rubbing his palms together. "Today, we're going to test how your power works on others." To Heith, he said, "I'm going to take her down to Specimen Storage. Are you happy to stay here? My lounge will be a lot more comfortable, and we won't be far."

"That's fine with me," Heith replied. "I didn't bring my costume anyway. Amelia, will you be okay taking a short walk with James?"

Amelia hesitated. She didn't want to be an inconvenience, but the idea made her tummy roil with nerves.

"Come here," Heith said kindly, and pulled Amelia into a hug. "I won't be far at all darling," she whispered into Amelia's hair. "There's an intercom; I'll be listening the whole time. If you need me, I'll be right there. And you'll be perfectly safe with James. Okay?"

Amelia did her best to let herself be soothed. "Okay," she whispered back.

Heith gave her one more squeeze before drawing away. "I'm proud of you."

James cleared his throat. "I'm going to get changed. I'll bring something for Amelia too." He walked over to one of the shelves. Amelia didn't see what he did, but a moment later the shelf was swinging inward, revealing a hidden room. James stepped through, and the shelf swung closed.

"That's so cool," Amelia said, her nerves momentarily forgotten.

"Isn't it?" Heith said with a chuckle. "We wouldn't be very good supervillains if we didn't have a few secret doors."

Amelia didn't think that Daddy had had any secret doors. Maybe he should have.

After a couple of minutes, the bookshelf opened again. "Alright," James's voice said, but Amelia didn't hear what he said next because the figure that emerged from the hidden room was straight out of her nightmares. A grey military uniform with a long coat and red accents, all sharp angles and polished buttons. Black boots, grey gloves; a grey hat perched atop an old-fashioned gas mask with soulless black eyes. She could feel her pillow being ripped from her grasp, could feel the vice-like grip dragging her from safety, could hear the cold voice announcing her presence to Allfather -

James's voice?

She was standing, breathing hard, and Heith was on her knees in front of her, blocking the monster from her view. His potential was yanked from her grasp - when had she reached for her power?

"Breathe, Amelia," Heith said forcefully. "Breathe."

She did. A big, shuddering breath, released quickly.

"It's okay, darling, it's okay," Heith said, "it's only James! James is a cape, remember? This is his costume."

"But he, he-" Amelia stammered, interrupted by her own panicked panting. She couldn't get enough air. "At my house, he-"

"He brought you to me, darling," Heith said. She was rubbing circles into Amelia's back now - when had her arms wrapped around her? "He brought you to me, and then everything was alright, wasn't it? Everything is alright."

Gradually, Amelia's breathing slowly. Eventually, Heith let her pull away.

James was standing a few feet back from them. He had removed his headgear; the gas mask rested on his desk, and he was slowly rotating his hat in his hands. His expression was one of compassion and concern. Just like always.

"Do you feel better darling?" Heith asked. "Are you alright?"

Amelia didn't think she was, but she wanted to be. So she nodded. Then, for James's benefit, she said, "I'm alright."

James coughed. "I have these for you," he said, gesturing to a small pile of fabric next to his gas mask. Heith retrieved what turned out to be a grey hooded cowl and a dark red domino mask, and started settling them on Amelia's head. "This is how we anonymize our capes when their normal costumes aren't available. We haven't needed it in your size before, so it's a good thing our tailor was able to get it ready in time."

The mask felt funny on her nose. Heith gave her one more bracing embrace, then stood up. "You're all ready. Be brave."

Amelia looked at James. He'd put his mask and hat back on. "Follow me," he said.

So she did.

He led her into the hidden room, which was small and contained only doors. He used a card key to open the one on the left, and they stepped into an elevator.

"Do you want to push the button?" James asked. His friendly tone was at odds with his appearance.

Amelia pushed the button. There was only one. The elevator descended.

When the door opened, it revealed a concrete corridor with fluorescent overhead lights and many doors. James led her to one of them, and they stepped inside. The room was concrete as well, a perfect box. There was a metal rolling table with a notepad and a narrow marker on it, and a pair of metal chairs. The room was otherwise empty, and almost featureless, but there were metal rings at various heights spaced out along the walls, and metal drains set into the floors.

"Wait right here," James said, "and I'll be back soon. Do you need anything?"

The mismatch between the idea of James - gentle, caring, patient, with a daughter who used to love Candyland - and the horror in the grey coat was becoming unbearable. Amelia's world was growing steadily less real, steadily more nightmarish. "What's your cape name?" she asked.

The grey man paused. "Krieg," he said. If James had been using that tone of voice, she thought it would've been paired with an amused smile, but Krieg didn't have a face to smile with. "Hang tight," he said, and left the room.

Amelia sat down. "Heith?" she asked hesitantly, her voice echoing in the empty room.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then there was a crackle of static, and Heith's voice filled the cold corners of the room. "I'm here darling. There's nothing to worry about." Her voice was tinny, not quite right, but it still made Amelia feel more grounded, more real, and calm enough to wait for Krieg's return.

True to this word, he didn't keep her waiting long. Krieg reentered the room with a metal case dangling from one hand and a wire cage under one arm. He deposited both on the table, then turned to face her. "Let's begin. Come meet our volunteer."

Curious, Amelia approached the table and peered into the cage. Resting within was a plump rat with a soft-looking white and brown coat. It appeared to be cleaning itself, licking its front paws before rapidly running them over its head. It paused for a moment to regard her with curious, lively eyes, then went back to grooming.

"It's cute," she said, a little surprised. Weren't rats supposed to be gross and scary?

"This little lady is the daughter of one of Medhall's noble lab rats," Krieg said, sounding fond. "We keep a supply down here for off-the-books testing, but don't think that means she's not getting top quality care. This is only a travel cage; her permanent habitat has plenty of soft places to nap and little nooks and crannies to explore." After a moment, he asked, "Can you use your power on her?"

Amelia was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she watched the rat closely, just to be sure. She looked so sweet. "No," she said. "No bud."

"Would you like to pet her?" Krieg asked, and Amelia started, surprised.

"Can I?" she asked.

"Of course!" he said, and after a moment of fiddling he had opened the cage door and was gently cradling the rat in his gloved hands. "Gentle pets on the head," he instructed. "Use one finger. And let me know if touching her makes her show up to your power."

Very carefully, Amelia reached out with her pointer finger and gave the rat a gentle stroke. Somehow, she was even softer than she looked. The rat lifted her head, not exactly leaning into her touch but not leaning away from it either, and began sniffing Amelia's palm, her little pink nose bouncing adorably. A few pets later, and she moved from sniffing to licking. Amelia giggled, delighted.

"Still nothing?" Krieg asked.

"No," Amelia answered, barely paying attention. "Can I hold her?"

"Not this time," Krieg said, possibly apologetically. "Just a few more pets, okay?"

"Okay," Amelia said, trying to keep her disappointment down.

After another handful of seconds, Krieg withdrew the rat, and the pang of loss was enough to make her throat clench. "Back to your home for now, little lady," he said to the rat. "We'll find you another job soon. Say goodbye, Amelia."

"Bye," she said, voice tight. "Thank you for helping."

Krieg returned her to her cage. "We'll do some more rigorous testing with larger animals in the future, but for now I think we can tentatively conclude that your power only works on humans. Fortunately, we're well-prepared for this possibility." He lifted the cage off the table, leaving behind the metal case, and returned to the door.

When he opened it, Amelia was surprised to see another man standing in the hallway. He was taller and broader than Krieg, and he was wearing a white coat over scrubs like a doctor, but he also wore a heavy black toolbelt. Krieg handed the cage to the man, and the man handed him a length of chain. The man stepped back from the door, and Krieg gave the chain a hard yank.

Another man staggered into view, and Amelia gasped. He was almost completely naked, wearing only a thin off-white loincloth. His emaciated body was covered in coarse grey hair, streaked here and there with grime. His head, on the other hand, had been shaved almost clean, with only occasional whiskers poking out from folds of loose skin. His eyes were sunken, haunted. He made a noise somewhere between a moan and a gasp as his eyes met hers, and in the moment that his mouth opened, she could see that he was missing most of his teeth, and that there was something wrong with his tongue. It looked too short.

His hands were cuffed in front of him with heavy manacles, and the length of chain Krieg was holding connected to them. Another yank brought the man fully into the room, and the white-coated man closed the door behind them.

"This is Rabbi Warner, Amelia." Kreig's voice was level and impassive as he seized the chain between the man's manacles and dragged him to the wall. Something like a sob escaped Rabbi Warner's mouth, and Amelia saw that the skin of his wrists was rubbed raw beneath the cuffs. "After nearly a decade, most Jews have at least gotten cunning enough to conceal their true natures in public, but not our Rabbi." Krieg tossed aside the length of chain he'd been using like a leash, and Amelia saw that it had been connected to the manacles by a carabiner. With no apparent effort, Krieg hauled Rabbi Warner's wrists up above his head and used the carabiner to connect the manacle chain to one of the metal rings.

In spite of the rough treatment, Rabbi Warner did not cry out again.

"Our Rabbi," Krieg continued, moving to face both Amelia and Rabbi Warner, "decided to take a stand. His congregation would not be frightened into silence; they would live shamelessly, in the open, and act as a beacon to which their fellow cockroaches could scuttle. He made such a public declaration that he might as well have spat in our faces. We couldn't let it stand or it would embolden his fellows to act even more blatantly, but killing him would just give them a martyr. I imagine he felt very clever.

"But he underestimated us, as his kind always do. When a man disappears from his home right under his family's slumbering noses, with no sign of a struggle? You can't make a martyr out of that, and the fear it inspires is all the greater. And it means that now, for the first time in his life, Rabbi Warner can do some good for the world, by helping you understand your powers."

Amelia barely noticed when Krieg fell silent; she was staring straight at Rabbi Warner. Horror churned in her gut, and her knees shook. He returned her gaze, and his sunken eyes, though dry at first, began to glisten.

"Amelia." Krieg placed a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. "This man is a Jew. Jews are one of the most despicable, the most evil, groups of people on the planet; even calling them people is generous. To the last, they are vicious, savage murderers. They work tirelessly to infiltrate the halls of power and to erode the sanctity of Aryan society. They are envious of our world and want to destroy it, to make us as low as them. The boldest among them even kill our babies in their cribs in the hopes that we will one day go extinct. They are lower than vermin, and this man is one of their leaders. He is a monster in every sense of the word. Don't be fooled because he looks pitiable now."

Amelia's throat was dry. She couldn't read Krieg's tone at all. What he said - it didn't seem right, but she didn't know what to say. His hand on her shoulder was light, but she could feel the iron grip that had ripped her from safety, and she was afraid. But she had to say something.

"Heith?" Her voice was reedy, weak, but still it seemed to echo in the silence. Please please please please .

A crackle. "I'm here darling." Amelia could've wept. "He's right."

Her whole body went cold.

"You know the heroes in the stories I've been reading you?" Heith asked. Amelia couldn't find her voice to respond, but Heith kept going anyway. "Those heroes slay monsters. It's what makes them heroes. I know you can be a hero too. I know how brave you are. Listen to Krieg, do what he says, and everything will be alright."

Then the room was quiet. Eventually, Krieg broke the silence. "If it helps," he said, "don't think of him as a person. Look at him as a body, or a subject. Just a collection of parts that are shaped like a person. Can you do that?"

Amelia took a deep breath. Another. Then she nodded. "Yes," she said out loud a moment later, remembering.

"Excellent," Krieg said. He stepped away from Amelia and returned to the table, where he picked up the notepad. "Do you feel like it would be possible to use your power on the subject?"

Amelia looked at the subject. Droplets of water had started rolling down its cheeks at some point, but she ignored them, focusing on its bud of potential instead. "Yes," she said.

"Give the subject head hair. Grey and curly."

A gentle prod from her powers, and the change took hold. It grew quickly and eagerly, and Krieg nodded. "Excellent. Dismiss it."

That required significantly more effort, but Amelia was fresh, and it was no obstacle. Krieg had her repeat the test, first standing on the far side of the room, which was harder, then again while standing within arm's reach of the subject, which was easier, and again while actually touching it, which was the easiest of all. Krieg did not tell her to reverse the last change. Instead, he said, "Now enlarge the subject's nose."

Amelia reached out with her power, then frowned. "I can't," she said.

"Why can't you?" Krieg asked. "Is it like our last experiment yesterday?"

"No," she said, considering. The subject's potential felt almost taught, like a rope twisted until it wouldn't twist anymore. She thought it might be releasing that tension as its shape slowly retreated back towards a bud, but it was happening so slowly she couldn't tell. "I think it's just tied up. I don't think I can make it change again until this change is gone."

Krieg made a note. "Are you sure? You were able to do multiple consecutive changes on yourself."

"I'm sure," she confirmed. "It didn't feel like this on myself."

"I see. Go ahead and revert that change, then."

She complied.

"Very good. I'd like you to try something brand new."

"Okay," Amelia said. It was all the same to her. Unfeeling flesh acting on unfeeling flesh.

"Give the subject a large cut across the chest."

She gave the subject's potential a sharp jab, but when it resisted, she broke off the effort. "I can't. It feels like yesterday's last attempt."

"Okay. What about a small cut on the fingertip?"

She tried again, and again encountered resistance. "It maybe felt a little easier? But I'd have to push as hard as I can, and it might make me… fall apart." Please don't make me please please please - she quelled her fear and waited.

"Leave it, then." A clicking sound got Amelia's attention. She turned around to see that Krieg had opened the case, revealing a collection of metal implements. He produced a scalpel and offered it to her. "Make a long shallow cut across the subject's chest with that, then use your power to close it."

Amelia accepted the scalpel. "How close should I stand when I use my power?"

"Touching."

She nodded, then turned back to the subject and drew the scalpel across its chest in a single smooth motion. The scalpel left a line of red behind it, and the subject spasmed, air hissing out of its mouth. She reached out with her empty hand and pushed with her power, and something strange happened.

The subject's bud seemed to fracture in her vision, as if she was seeing it from a new, impossible angle that revealed a new, impossible dimension to its shape. The bud had been unfurling in this new dimension, but as she prodded it, it stopped and retreated. It was still partially open, and as she studied it, it seemed to be gradually closing. When she shifted her perspective and looked at it from the angle she had been seeing until now, it still only looked like a bud.

Meanwhile, the cut on the subject's torso scabbed over. Amelia removed her hand.

"Can you finish healing it?" Krieg asked.

"I don't think so," Amelia said. "I don't know if I can explain. I think I've pushed it as far along as I can, but maybe it will finish on its own faster than usual?"

"I'll make sure to keep an eye on its progress." Krieg stood up and walked over to her. A gloved hand reached out and gently touched the edge of the scab above her eye, just barely protruding from under her mask. "Can you heal this?"

Memory flashed through her head, threatening to upset her equilibrium. "No," she said quickly.

"Amelia," he said entreatingly, "The way your power has worked so far, I would be very surprised if you could heal others but not yourself. Can you try?"

He didn't understand, and if she tried to explain she would - she would…

Amelia placed the scalpel on her empty hand and drew it across her palm.

Searing pain exploded through her, shattering her detachment. Sobs tore from her throat and tears poured from her eyes. Krieg was yelling, sounding almost alarmed. Desperately, Amelia reached inside for her own potential. She forced it into her new perspective, saw the damage beginning to blossom, and crushed it, hard.

The pain eased, going from burning agony to dull ache, and the room came back into focus. She was sniffling. Krieg had ripped the scalpel from her hand and was squeezing her wounded palm, his grey gloves spattered with blood. Rabbi Warner slumped against the wall, dangling.

"Amelia," Krieg was saying urgently, "are you okay?"

"I'm-" she hiccupped, then tried again. "I'm okay." She pulled her hand out of Krieg's and opened it. Though her palm was still wet with blood, the cut itself was only a scab.

Krieg let out a sigh of relief, and his shoulders slumped. "Never do that again."

"Krieg, what happened?" Heith's voice crackled through the intercom, heavy with concern. "Is Amelia okay?"

"She's okay," Krieg responded, "but I think we're done for the day." He looked back to Amelia. "Why don't we go upstairs, back to the lounge? I can make hot cocoa again, and we can play whatever game you want, you and me and Heith. How does that sound?"

It sounded wonderful. Amelia wanted nothing more than to be out of this room, away from the blood and the pain and the Rabbi, who twisted her emotions into knots she couldn't bear to unpick. There was only one other thing…

"Can your rat come too?" she asked.

Krieg gave an amused huff. "We'll have to ask your mother."

Amelia didn't correct him.

Now:

Norn lifted her hand from Stormtiger's chest. "Enhancements will peak in sixty seconds and should remain there for five minutes, give or take. Haven't done this one before."

"Then let's get cracking." Stormtiger rolled his shoulders out and cracked his neck, then turned to address the half-dozen unpowered soldiers who'd be supporting them. "Remember, you're on containment until we tell you otherwise. I want anyone that leaves the building bleeding in the dirt, and I don't care if they get back up. Don't hesitate 'cause you're worried about hitting us; we can take it."

"I'll radio when we want you to move in," Norn added, enjoying how naturally the smooth, commanding words felt rolling off her tongue. She raised her radio to her mouth and pressed the button. "Overwatch, we're engaging. Stay sharp, over."

"We've got your back Norn. Crack some chink skulls for us, over," came the response. If she squinted, Norn could just make out the pair of soldiers planted on a nearby roof. One was watching the target building for any surprises, the other was watching everything else in case reinforcements or do-gooders showed up. Both of their potentials were in full bloom, and the corners of her lips twitched in satisfaction at how well her vision-enhancement package was sticking; they should have at least thirty minutes of peak telescopic night vision with a widened visual field. It was a major perk of giving their soldiers consistent roles; the more their job felt like part of their identity, the easier it was to make them better at it.

Stormtiger squared up to the door, drawing air into his protective shroud and compressing more into a pair of his signature claws. Norn took up a position a pace behind him, drawing her pistol and athame from their hip holsters and bracing the hand holding the former atop the hand holding the latter. A beat, as delicious anticipation built in her. Then…

"Knock knock bitches," Stormtiger purred, and then his first claw blasted the door off its hinges.

They rushed through the breach. Noises of alarm and indecipherable utterances filled the air around them, and Stormtiger launched his second claw just as the rattle of gunfire began. Norn ignored it, letting Stormtiger's shield weather the initial volley as she snapped first left, then right, squeezing off a shot that took an ABB thug in the shoulder as he went for his gun. He went down howling.

The building had been a grocery store before it had been abandoned, and bins that had once held produce still could've provided some meager cover from an assault. Stormtiger ripped them to pieces with a volley of claw blasts, and Norn stepped to the left to give herself a clear shot at the thugs who were only momentarily stunned rather than hurled through the air. One man near the back wall who was holding a rifle was both a quick thinker and a solid shot - he looked past the wall of noise and carnage that was Stormtiger, whose personal whirlwind rendered him immune to bullets, and drew a bead on Norn instead. Two of his shots connected with her; one struck the armor covering her ribs, but the other connected with her exposed clavicle, jolting her badly enough to throw off her first shot. The change she'd made to her skin did its job, though, and a bruise and a friction burn weren't going to delay her long. Her second shot hit him center-mass, and her third pierced the crown of his head as he doubled over.

A side door flying open caught Norn's attention next; the man was through it faster than she could bring her gun on target, but she glimpsed his bud long enough that she could have tried something to hamper him. She chose to trust their soldiers instead - her enhanced sight changes might have only taken a modest effort, but the changes she'd pushed to herself and Stormtiger had been much more demanding, and four targets was already one more than she could handle comfortably. Her faith was rewarded when the retort of a gunshot sounded outside, followed by a scream and a clatter. She smiled.

The door to the back flung open, and a man wearing sunglasses - inside, at night, like an asshole - stepped through it, hefting a heavy-looking rifle with a wide barrel and a metal cylinder like an air tank slung underneath it. His arrival caught Norn out of position - she'd let herself get distracted by the fleeing coward, and she wasn't quick enough to line up a clean shot. Stormtiger might've been able to hit him with a blast, but they needed to recover the gun intact, and tinkertech could be fragile, so…

The man fired. Norn registered a crunching sound, like biting into a snowcone, and the world vanished in a blast of white. A searing pain exploded over her body, like a bad sunburn, and she swore loudly, almost choking on hot steam.

Then a gust of wind raced over her, clearing the cloud. Every surface in the front half of the room was crusted in ice and frost, except for Norn and Stormtiger and the small circle of ground beneath each of their feet. Norn gave her partner a once over and had to laugh. His torso, completely exposed by his costume, was a nearly lobster red, and he was drenched in a layer of condensation that made his body hair, normally almost invisibly fine, lay flat against his skin where it stood out boldly against the vivid, scalded flesh. He looked more like a bedraggled housecat than a mighty tiger.

Norn's laughter grew to a cackle as it sank in that her changes had worked, and that unlike the unfortunate thug on the ground six feet in front of her, they weren't frozen solid. It was apparently still sinking in for the douchebag in the sunglasses too, because he was just standing there, looking stunned. That was a relief; he could've prolonged things if he'd taken advantage of her distraction. As it was, he barely had a chance to flinch before she put a bullet through his head.

The fight went out of the rest quickly after that. Norn radioed half their soldiers to move in and secure the survivors while she and Stormtiger swept the back room. When that was done, she called the other half in, leaving only the men on overwatch outside the building, then switched frequencies and called in a truck and a transport.

She stopped Stormtiger briefly before returning to the main room. "Let's make you look less like a Storm-tomato," she said, snickering at her own joke as she reached out.

Stormtiger was less entertained. "Don't fucking disrespect me like that."

"Don't mouth off to the healer," Norn shot back, flicking the tender skin and making him hiss. "I'd be happy to save my juice, let you go begging to Othala."

"Self-righteous bitch," he snarled.

"Are you done? If not, I'm leaving you like this and I'm telling Othala to do the same. Wanna bet which one of us she'll listen to?"

Stormtiger made a vague grumbling noise, but didn't say anything else. Norn was tempted to press him for an apology, maybe even make him beg, but she knew from experience that the ego trip wasn't worth the enmity, not over this. With a tap, she urged his potential, which had almost finished shedding her anti-cryo alteration, to start undoing the damage. He groaned as his color faded from red to pink and dead skin split and peeled away in strips. "Christ that itches."

Norn turned her power on herself and, while she couldn't disagree, she was mostly just relieved that her breastplate hadn't gotten hot enough to burn her skin through her underlayer.

They returned to the main room to find their soldiers busy. Two were piling bodies in the corner and going through their pockets, two were systematically tossing the room, one was cataloguing the take, and the last was standing, gun at the ready, behind the survivors. There were seven of them, all injured to some degree, on their knees and with their wrists secured behind their backs by zip ties. They were spaced out in a line, facing the back wall.

"Got them all," one of their soldiers reported, "including the one who tried to run. We've found some of the stolen merchandise, and we've got the specialty item, which seems intact. Shaun thought we should test fire it, so the rest of us decided that he could deal with unsticking the chink-sicle, keep him from getting anymore dumb ideas."

"There were more of our guns in the back," Stormtiger said, "still in their cases. We'll get them in a minute - let's finish with this rabble." He turned to address the line of prisoners. Norn rolled her eyes behind her mask as he slipped into his showman's voice. "Which one of you is in charge here?"

There was a moment of silence as the prisoners exchanged glances. Then, from the end of the line - "I am."

Stormtiger walked over to the man, unhurried. "I wasn't really expecting a response," he said. "Aren't you lot supposed to stab yourselves in shame when you get your asses beat?" It wasn't even a good joke, but a few of their soldiers guffawed, so Norn exhaled sharply through her nose in solidarity.

"What do you want?" the prisoner asked.

Stormtiger drew air into a new claw. "I want to know when you're expecting contact from the rest of your gang, if you're expecting to see Lung or Lee tonight, and if any of our guns have been sent elsewhere yet. I had big plans tonight that I had to cancel when you pathetic fucks decided to jack our shit, so I'm not feeling real patient. If you won't answer, I'll blow your head off and start going down the line until somebody does. We clear?"

"We clear." The thug swallowed. "We're expecting groups to come by throughout the night to arm themselves, first group in an hour. Lung was by earlier and didn't say he was planning to come back, and we weren't told to expect Oni Lee. A dozen guns were distributed earlier today, but the rest should still be here."

"Straightforward, aren't you?" Stormtiger said. "Normally I'd be disgusted that something as spineless as you thought it could steal from us, but like I said, tonight I appreciate the candor. So, unless you turn out to be lying, you get to live." He looked to the soldier watching the prisoners. "Pull him out of line."

The soldier obeyed, dragging the prisoner back. Stormtiger walked down the line of remaining men. He paused at the first one, grabbed him by the chin, said, "Lucky," then released him and kept walking. He stopped at the next one and repeated the motion, forcing his mouth open and examining him for a moment. In a voice heavy with satisfaction, he said, "Not." With a whistle, one of his claws struck the inside of the prisoner's mouth and exploded, sending fragments of his head everywhere. Norn took a step back out of the splash zone.

Stormtiger continued down the line. "Lucky, not. Lucky, not." When there were only three men left, spattered with the remains of their fellows, he turned back to their soldier. "Give the survivors a beating to remember us by, then come help me with the boxes. Transport is on the way, and we want to be gone in forty-five minutes." Then he looked to Norn. "I can finish up here. When the transport gets here, you should have them take you to the rally point."

"Really?" Norn asked, surprised. She'd been prepared to pitch in on the grunt work.

"Really. If New Wave actually shows and you get a proper fight out of the night, you'll owe me one."

"Works for me," she said, grinning.

"Oh, one more thing." Stormtiger nodded towards the ABB leader, who was staring, pale-faced, at the remains of his followers. "Let Krieg know he'll be getting a new subject, will you?"

Ice filled her veins, but she knew better than to let it steal the warmth from her smile.

The rally point for tonight's operation was an unassuming pub on the ground floor of an apartment building. Its owner was a sympathizer who'd been happy to rent it out on short notice for a "private function" and then make himself scarce. It was rare to have so many of the Empire's capes in one room in costume - discretion was important.

The disparate factions that Norn's father and grandfather had forged together to act as the sword of the white race were still visible in the way the capes arranged themselves while at rest. Krieg had claimed a booth near the door, and Alabaster and Othala sat with him, chatting amicably. He called a greeting to Norn as she entered, and Othala gave her a little wave. She returned the greeting, but didn't approach. Victor's absence was expected, but she was surprised not to see Rune with them. She kept her eyes peeled as she took in the rest of the room.

Hookwolf was behind the bar, Cricket seated at it. Their masks were off as they helped themselves to the beer supply. Getting drunk when they might need to fight at a moment's notice might be the kind of behavior that endeared them to the rank-and-file, but not so much to the other capes and leadership, Norn included. Not that there was any love to be lost there; she had disliked Brad from the moment it became clear that he cared more about having a cause to fight for than the cause itself. At least Stormtiger was absent - with only Cricket to bounce off of, Hookwolf's boasting wasn't yet so loud as to drown out everyone else in the space.

Purity was playing darts against herself while Night and Fog sat at a table nearby carrying out their usual pantomime of domesticity. She could not be more obviously missing Crusader's company as she tried to ignore the table at the epicenter of it all. Kaiser's helmet rested on the tabletop by his right hand while he held a book in his left, to all appearances completely at ease. Fenja was doing a much worse job of appearing at ease, sharpening her sword with an intensity that told Norn there was absolutely nothing wrong with its edge. For someone whose primary job was to be someone's bodyguard/arm candy, she'd always been terrible at dealing with boredom.

Norn walked over to her father's table. Fenja looked up as she approached, then rolled her eyes and went back to her fidgeting. Kaiser held up a finger, signalling for her to wait. After a moment, he bookmarked his page, closed his book, and turned to look at her. "What do you have to report?"

"Not much more than what I radioed in," Norn said. "We overpowered the ABB without incident, recovered the majority of our most recent shipment, including the tinkertech weapon that our buyer ordered special, and Stormtiger suggested that I return early while he finished cleaning up."

Kaiser nodded. "Very good."

"Any sign that Victor and Crusader are provoking a response?" she asked.

"Some Protectorate capes are trying to pin them down, but no sign of New Wave yet," Kaiser said. "Settle in - if the Protectorate over-commits, we'll send a second team to hit other targets, see if we can force New Wave into the field. Otherwise, we wait."

"Do you know where Rune is?"

"Brooding on the roof like a gargoyle," Fenja chimed in. "Little freak." She gave Norn a smile that just dared her to speak up in her friend's defense, to start a spat in front of Kaiser. She probably thought she was being so fucking clever.

Norn didn't take the bait. "With your leave, I'm gonna go check on her."

"Don't overtax your power on frivolities," Kaiser warned. "And keep your radio tuned. Run along."

Norn exited the bar. Access to the rest of the building required a keycard by the look of it. She could force entry into the elevator or stairwell, but that seemed like a poor way to repay their friend for hosting, so instead she made her way outside and circled to the side of the building. Eight to ten floors probably, rough-textured walls, but no real handholds except for windowsills.

No problem at all. She knelt and quickly removed her boots and socks, then stood back up, ignoring the feeling of the alley grime on her toes.

Norn thought back to a long-ago afternoon spent romping around a park with Theo. They'd been playing at gods and valkyrie, and had decided that the big oak was Ygdrassil and that they needed to climb it to capture the monster they were pursuing. They'd clambered through the limbs, squealing with delight as they'd gotten higher and higher. The bare trunk had been too smooth though, and they'd struggled first to get up into the lowest branches, then to get back down. Jessica had been babysitting them, and she'd come over to give Leah a boost up at the start, and later to catch Theo when he'd been afraid to jump.

Norn shook her head at the surprising jolt of bitterness and regret that memory stirred up - it wasn't what she needed. She focused on the joy of climbing, the delight, the freedom, the need . She gathered those feelings and pushed with her power, and with only moderate resistance, the change came.

Hand and feet grew and reshaped, fingers and toes combining and extending, becoming three rather than five, with enlarged circular pads. Sticky secretions coated their undersides, and Norn had to resist the urge to try to wipe them on her costume like palm sweat. A moment later she jerked forward, barely stopping herself from faceplanting into the wall as her legs went digitigrade. Her hands adhered as she caught herself, and as the change finished settling in, she did a quick pull test. Easy enough to unpeel if she pulled straight back, impossible if she pulled down.

So empowered, Norn began scurrying up the wall. She had to restrain a giggle at her awkward, lizard-like waddling gait; effective as it had been on multiple occasions, she still found its absurdity entertaining.

It didn't take long to reach the top. Norn cleared the lip and scuttled onto the roof on all fours to the site of an incredulous-looking Rune, sitting on an air conditioner. Her hood was pushed back, letting her hair ripple in the gentle breeze, though her eye mask still concealed her features somewhat. She seemed at a loss for words. A flicker of mischief ran through Norn, and she tilted her neck up at an uncomfortable angle that she hoped was suitably lizard-like, and said, "Hi," then flicked her tongue out and back in quickly.

"What the fuck," said Rune, looking completely nonplussed.

Norn let out a laugh and, with a hard shove, pushed the change away. She'd hoped to be able to elegantly rise to her feet as her legs returned to normal, but she very nearly fell flat on her face in the attempt, provoking a startled snort of laughter from Rune. She rose with as much dignity as she could manage, brushing off her greaves and acutely aware of how cold her toes were getting. "Why are you waiting up here?"

"Figured I'd be the first to see New Wave. And Othala was getting on my nerves - she and Victor are stupidly codependent." Rune scooted over, and Norn took the implicit invitation and sat down next to her. "How was your last-minute mission?"

"Caught the chinks with their pants down," Norn said. "I don't think any of ours were even injured."

"Did they use the freeze ray?"

"Don't call it that where my dad can hear you, he'll get pissy at you for undermining the Empire's gravitas-"

"Cold cannon," Rune tried. "Arctic artillery. I-can't-believe-it's-not-ice-scuplture."

Laughing, Norn continued "-but yeah, they did, and my countermeasure worked perfectly. I changed a couple layers of our skin cells to produce however much heat was necessary to keep their temperature at sixty degrees if they ever fell below that, and the heat generated kept the cold from penetrating. It did parboil all the cells in close proximity, but that wasn't hard to heal." She leaned back, indulging in the pride she felt at such an innovative solution.

"Why not just change your skin to be coldproof?" Rune asked. "Your way seems fiddly as shit."

"You know I can't do changes like, 'be coldproof'," Norn said, rolling her eyes. "I change the body, I don't impart properties. 'Coldproof' isn't a quantifiable change."

"It kind of seems like it is though? I think if I had your power, I would just make people coldproof," Rune said smugly.

"Well if I had your power, I just wouldn't drop things when they break into smaller pieces," Norn retaliated. "I also wouldn't need to do fingerpainting to use it in the first place."

"Oh yeah, well-" Rune stuck a finger in her own mouth, then reached over and wiped her spit all over the exposed part of Norn's face. Norn let out something embarrassingly close to a shriek and just barely managed to avoid toppling off her perch. "How's that for fingerpainting?"

"Bitch!"

"Cunt," Rune said with a shit-eating grin.

They lapsed into comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the Brockton Bay skyline.

"Man," Rune said, "it's gonna fucking suck if you went through sucking up to Glory Girl for this and New Wave don't even show up."

"If they don't show up, it's a different kind of victory," Norn pointed out. "Victor and Crusader are trashing their neighborhood, their territory. If they're too scared of us to show up for that, their reputation is done, and that means their revenue is done."

"Maybe. But I still think you deserve to punch their teeth in after having to make nice with Glory Girl."

Norn snorted. "She's so fucking pathetic. Crying her eyes out because her boyfriend broke up with her for the fifteenth time. Did you know she's started sitting with me at lunch? I was kind of nice to her one time and she latched onto me like a fucking flea. I spent all afternoon with her on the Boardwalk today, and we're going again on Thursday."

"The sooner New Wave collapses, the sooner you can dump her ass, right?" Rune offered bracingly.

"I wish, but Father's not going to want me to burn an in with the Wards. Pretty sure I'm stuck with her forever."

"Ugh!" Rune shook her head. "Glad I don't go to school with her. No Wards at Immaculata, I'm pretty sure."

"Must be nice," Norn said bitterly.

"I do make the uniform look good," Rune said with a smirk. She leaned back, stretching, then resettled. Her new position caused her shoulder to press against Norn's, and Norn had to fight down the urge to flinch.

Contact with Rune was fine. Contact with Rune felt good, but it was a normal good. Contact between girls was normal, and fine. And felt good. So everything was fine.

They went back to watching the skyline.

Actions

↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Comments (20)

Kudos

ScaryJade, LadySerin, Jay777, esfirraaa, Ywena, 21st_Century_Spooder_Man, Abnormalbee, fairlead, AtlaPerry, themann1086, Wupwup, alpengluehen, Taikoa_Storm, Greenpeaceadvice, ColossusCrusher, Excypher, Tree_Rainbows, Zuryn26, FoxCria, IInkyrius, HotTakeHoulihan, Metallicity, Magenta_Hedgehog, ghostlied, Omega9_Pi3_Prime1, Supervivens, CountessLovelace, SamiKami, EowynLuna, AengVayth, jadegreendean, SaricaSilver, Skarm, Lore_and_Lie, Pirate_Katt, sorbet231, HealingMoonlight, Genshin_Simps, Pink_hippo200, SeekerAfterTruth, divinitythief, RatMaster860, Climactic_Emu, someplacefaraway, piano_lamp, Overlass, oracularOptimizee, Metamorphis, EldritchEnigma, itstimefortoads, and 145 more users as well as 141 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Sorry, this work doesn't allow non-Archive users to comment. You can however still leave Kudos!

Footer

About the Archive

Site Map

Diversity Statement

Content Policy

DMCA Policy

Site Status

Policy Questions & Abuse Reports

Technical Support & Feedback

Development

otwarchive v0.9.458.3

Known Issues

GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTWMain Content

Archive of Our Own betaArchive of Our OwnLog In

FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search

tip: buffy gen teen AND "no archive warnings apply"

Actions

Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Hide Creator's Style Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex

Categories:

F/FGen

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Amy Dallon & Theo AndersAmy Dallon & Heith AndersAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares

Characters:

Additional Tags:

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2025-02-04Updated:2026-02-04Words:161,471Chapters:28/49Comments:739Kudos:336Bookmarks:73Hits:19,486

Broken Crown

thevalleyarchive

Chapter 6: Ozymandias 1.6

Chapter Text

Then:

James cleared his throat. "Before I begin, I want to make it clear that there are more uncertainties in this report than I would like. Amelia's power is nuanced, and seems to be governed by an underlying logic that we haven't managed to grasp yet."

Amelia shifted uncomfortably. Her shoes were pinching her feet, and she wanted to sit down. Heith had overridden her objections back at the penthouse - "We're calling on Richard in his home, so we're going to dress appropriately. It's only polite."

For Mr. Anders that meant a suit, for Heith it meant a sleek blue dress, and for Amelia it apparently meant frills, stockings, and uncomfortable shoes. She could imagine liking the outfit she was wearing under other circumstances. If she'd gotten to choose it herself. If she wasn't wearing it for Allfather.

They were in Richard's study, which was dominated by a heavy wooden desk, a monstrosity that dwarfed the one James kept in his lounge. Richard sat behind it, and it was taking everything Amelia had not to quail under his gaze as he regarded her. Her eyebrow itched.

"Go on," he said.

James looked to his notes. "To use the crude, if growing in popularity, PRT threat classifications, I would say that Amelia has a Changer power of middling to high rating, a Shaker/Striker power of middling rating, and a Thinker power of rating 1. To use the much more proper European standard, I would say that her power has three facets.

"Her first facet has an augmentative application of personal range. She can transform any part or parts of her body in myriad ways, including altering appearance, proportions, and size, changing materials - including non-organic materials but seemingly limited to solids, though they may secrete or contain fluids - or altering their properties in concrete ways. These alterations do not require preservation of mass or energy, and she can apply multiple changes simultaneously or in sequence. They are not instantaneous, taking a time ranging from a second or two to several minutes to fully occur, and can last for variable lengths of time which may be measured in minutes or hours, after which they may revert near instantaneously or more gradually. She may end them prematurely with effort. She can also partially heal wounds very rapidly, after which they will finish healing at, I believe, a slightly accelerated rate.

"Her second facet has an augmentative and impedimentative application at touch or sight range. She may apply changes of the same variety as her first facet to other human individuals that she can see or touch. She is limited to one change at a time per individual, and the changes are more effective in terms of effort expended, duration, and speed of onset the closer the individual is to her, with direct physical contact having the greatest effect.

"These facets share a set of drawbacks and limitations. Each use of either facet increases the effort required to use either facet again. Each currently active usage of her power cumulatively increases the effort required. Additionally, the effort required for any given change seems to be highly variable, with no discernible concrete factor determining the difficulty. Generally, changes become more difficult the further they move from normal human biology. Difficulty for a given change seems to vary between different targets, though the average change seems easiest to apply to herself. Changes that are easy to apply tend to set in quickly, remain fully manifested longer, and revert more gradually, but they are also harder to dismiss earlier. The inverse is also true. She has a general sense of how effortful a change will be to make, and if she attempts to make a change that is too effortful, it will fail, and she will dissolve into, essentially, a biological puddle. She is unable to act or perceive in this form, and is presumably vulnerable to harm, though this was not tested. Regardless of effort expended, her power seems to return to its base ease of use within twenty-four hours."

Amelia shivered; she couldn't help herself.

"Her third and final facet has an informative application at sight range. Initially, I was hesitant to classify this as its own facet, as it is primarily limited to allowing her to determine whether and with how much effort someone can be affected by her other two facets. However, we discovered while testing that it also reveals individuals who have powers that allow them to hamper or resist her changes." James gave Heith a sidelong glance. "In the process of testing this, we also discovered additional, previously unknown information about Gerda's power. When she changes size, she does not merely heal grievous injuries. Rather, her body attempts to return to its natural state and proportions. We have previously observed this when her arm reattached itself after an encounter with the Siberian" - Amelia stared at Heith in shock - "but we have now also observed her entire body returning to flesh and blood after Amelia turned it to concrete."

"Fenja was not willing to participate in the testing," Heith added, "but we have no reason to think that she has a similar resistance. Amelia's third facet doesn't react to her the way it does to me."

"Just so," James said, frowning slightly. "This concludes my summary of our testing. As I said, there's much we still don't know; the logic by which her power operates is unintuitive."

Richard nodded slowly. He looked Amelia over, his expression hard. "Heith, take the girl home. James, Max, let's discuss how to make use of her."

Heith placed a hand on Amelia's back and guided her towards the door. "Come on darling."

When the door to the office closed behind them, Amelia couldn't help but shudder with relief.

Back at the penthouse, Heith busied herself making lunch. Theo was waiting on the couch and hopped to his feet excitedly when Amelia entered the room. "Amelia Bedelia's back!" he said excitedly.

"No!" Amelia shook her head forcefully, but smiled anyway. She hadn't spent a lot of time with Theo the past week; when she wasn't doing power testing, she was mostly in her room, even when she would normally have been allowed out. For some reason, it had been hard to want to see people. Heith had made sure she came out for meals, but had otherwise let her be, even getting her some new activities she could do by herself. She'd made the most use of her new art supplies - construction paper, gluesticks, crayons and pencils and markers. She'd needed the practice.

On the rare occasions she had seen Theo, though, he'd insisted on trying increasingly elaborate nicknames for her. None of them had felt like her, but his efforts still made her feel warm inside.

"What did Grandfather say?" Theo asked, excitement unabated. "Do you have a cape name now? A costume? Are you gonna go on missions with Mommy?"

Amelia resisted the urge to shiver. "He didn't say much. He's talking about it with James and Mr. Anders."

"I bet you'll get to," Theo said. "You have to tell me everything, especially the stuff Mommy says I'm not old enough for. You have to promise, Amy Leah!"

"That one doesn't count, you're just saying my name but weird!" she protested.

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"Am not!" Theo protested harder. "It's two names! Amy, Leah!"

"I only want one nickname, and you already tried 'Amy'," Amelia said haughtily.

"You're trying to get out of promising, Amy Leah," Theo said accusingly. "You have to promise so I can be ready when I get my powers!"

Amelia remembered how the bodies of Krieg's subjects had twisted and deformed beneath her power. "I promise," she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Good!"

She hesitated a moment, then forced the memory away. "But you have to call me something else!" she demanded. "Even just Leah would be better."

"Okay, 'Just Leah'", Theo said with a big smile. Amelia smacked him on the shoulder. He flinched, but he was still smiling. "Do you wanna play-" he started, then froze. His smile dropped for a moment, but then he seemed to shake himself, and raising his voice, he called out, "Mommy! Can Just Leah play Bionicles with me?"

Heith stepped out of the kitchen, a good-humored smile on her face. "I think that should be perfectly fine. I've told Theo often enough, but you can't leave pieces lying around when you're done playing with them. Can you pick up after yourself, Just Leah?"

Amelia groaned long and loud.

Heith laughed. "What? Just is a wonderful thing to be." She reached out and ruffled Amelia's hair with one hand and Theo's with the other. "My little heroes," she said, and Amelia felt warm inside. "Theo the Brave, Leah the Just, go forth and lead your Bionicles to greatness."

"Come on!" Theo said excitedly, grabbing Amelia by the hand and dragging her into his room to retrieve his toys. "I need to get the step stool to get them off my dresser, just a sec-"

"No you don't," Amelia said, cutting him off. She gave her bud a jab and felt her legs begin to lengthen. Theo looked on in obvious envy as she retrieved his toys and reverted her legs to normal.

"Okay," he said once they'd claimed a section of the living room floor, "I have the Toa Nuva in their combined forms, but we need to separate them so we can do a new story with all of them. Wanna help?"

The sound of a door opening interrupted Amelia before she could respond. She looked up to see Jessica vanishing into the bathroom. "You go ahead," she said, "I'll be right back."

It took only a few moments for her to find what she was looking for and retrieve it from under her bed, leaving her wondering where to stand while she waited for Jessica to get out of the bathroom. She didn't want to wait right outside the bathroom door, and right next to the sink didn't seem much better, but she also didn't want to go too far and miss her chance when Jessica went back to her room. She settled on standing outside of Jessica's bedroom door; that way, she wouldn't be crowding her while she finished up, but there was also no chance of missing her.

Amelia heard the toilet flush, then the spray of water from the faucet and the washing of hands. She waited.

Eventually, Jessica rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. She looked confused for a moment, then asked, "What do you want?" in a voice heavy with hostility.

Amelia took a deep breath and produced her card from behind her back. It was made from a folded piece of blue construction paper, with cutouts of green, purple, and yellow paper painstakingly attached via gluestick to form a flower. "I'm sorry my dad killed your sister," she said, and offered Jessica the card.

Jessica looked stricken. She took the card slowly, but her movements were jerky and mechanical, and she didn't look at it. She also didn't speak, so Amelia felt compelled to fill the silence. "I wish he hadn't done it," she said, "and that you weren't so sad. I don't want to be sad either, and" - she had to swallow, her throat was tightening - "and I wish Daddy-" no, she couldn't. She swallowed several times, trying to keep from crying as Jessica stared at her with wide eyes, and she fished desperately for something to say. "If - if Daddy had to die," she said, and almost broke completely as she did, "then I wish he'd died sooner, so I could've gotten my power in time to save Nessa."

She was out of words. Jessica just stared. At first, Amelia had no idea what her expression was, but slowly it crumpled into her usual scowl. Or, maybe not her usual one, but a scowl. It was shaking, though, her eyes and lips twitching spasmodically, and just as Amelia started looking for more words, Jessica spun around and took off running. Heith called something out, but Jessica didn't slow, tearing open the front door and vanishing without a backwards glance.

She didn't return for hours. By then, Amelia and Theo had separated and rebuilt his Bionicles, had a break for lunch, and gotten properly engaged in their epic struggle, while Heith had left to run some errands. Amelia flinched when she heard the front door open, afraid that it would be Richard, upset about to see them playing again, so it was a relief to see Jessica instead, her fingernails freshly painted black and carrying shopping bags. She didn't acknowledge them on her way to her room, so Amelia and Theo turned back to their game. Ten seconds later, though, they were interrupted again when Jessica reemerged, walked over to the TV, and turned it on.

"Hey!" Theo said indignantly, "we're playing!"

"Tough," snapped Jessica. She opened the cabinet beneath the TV and started fiddling with the DVD player.

"You're not allowed to kick us out of the living room just because Mommy's out!" Theo insisted. "I'll tell!"

"I'm not kicking you out, dickmunch," Jessica said. "I don't care what you do, but I'm gonna watch a movie."

"You always play it too loud," he whined. "And I'm telling on you for saying bad words!"

"Whatever." Jessica grabbed the remote and flopped on the couch.

"You can't just…" Theo trailed off as the DVD menu screen appeared on the TV. Amelia did a double take, looking from the screen to the toys on the floor and back again.

"You got the Bionicle movie?" Theo asked, astonished.

Jessica shrugged. "I was in a hurry and it was on display. Now shut up or go away."

"Can - can I watch it with you?" Theo was practically bouncing with excitement.

"I literally don't care. Sure, I guess." As Theo squealed with excitement and ran over to the couch, Jessica looked at Amelia. Her expression was bored, but Amelia thought she saw something flicker behind her eyes. "You too, if you want."

Warmth bloomed in her chest. Amelia hopped up on the couch next to Theo, and Jessica pressed play.

Now:

To Leah's complete lack of surprise, her second visit to the Boardwalk in three days began as an exercise in repetition. Victoria dragged her to a few of the same "upscale" secondhand stores they'd visited last time, and Leah did her best to pretend she was enjoying herself. Victoria's ability to approach this retread with apparently the same insipid, bubbly enthusiasm as their first pass started off annoying and rapidly progressed to aggravating. It wasn't until they'd emerged from the third store that Leah noticed just how fast Victoria's eyes were darting around as she considered their next move, and it occurred to her that she might be covering for something.

Father would want her to use wit and charm, to subtly coax Victoria into opening up with a clever word and a carefully chosen smile, but Father had never been an ugly fat girl. Leah opted for a direct approach - it hadn't chased Victoria off yet. "What's got you so twitchy?"

Victoria flinched, and Leah couldn't help but smirk. Victoria responded with a grin of her own, but it curdled into a grimace as she spoke. "You know that spurt of Empire home invasions this week? They've all been near where I live. One of last night's was just down the street. I guess I'm a bit jumpy."

"What do you have to be nervous about? You're a family of capes."

Victoria's face turned stormy. "That didn't keep my aunt safe," she said angrily.

Leah backed up a step, raising her hands placatingly. "Shit, I'm sorry. I just - sorry," she finished lamely. The direct approach fucking sucked.

Victoria sighed. "That's alright. Is it self-centered of me to think they're doing it on purpose? It wouldn't be that hard for them to find out where we live, and after" - she hesitated - "after what I did, maybe they want revenge. And since they're a bunch of spineless cowards who are too afraid to come for me, they're taking it out on people vaguely near me. And if they're doing that… I don't want you to get hurt because we've been hanging out."

Leah went from bristling at being insulted to unkindly amused at the other girl's concern. "Let me worry about me," she said. "If you're worried that it's because of you, is your family gonna go confront them?" There, that was almost subtle - she hadn't even had to maneuver the conversation to get to that question.

"I keep telling my mom we should," Victoria said angrily, "but she keeps telling me the team 'has it under control' and 'not to worry about it'!" She gave a frustrated huff. "They won't tell me anything about what New Wave is doing because they're worried that I'll tag along or something!"

"That sucks," Leah said, and mean it; Victoria wouldn't be a very good source if she was cut out of the loop. "Would you tag along though?" she asked.

She'd been shooting for teasing, but she was seized by the fear that she'd landed on accusatory instead when Victoria answered immediately with an indignant, "No!" But then she hesitated and glanced off to the side, almost bashfully. "I mean, I wouldn't show myself unless they really needed me."

Leah laughed, as much from relief as anything, and Victoria gave her an embarrassed smile. "Wanna wander inland a few blocks? I kinda feel like we already saw everything on Tuesday."

"Sure," Leah said with a shrug, covering her vindication.

The shops they found after that were a bit more novel, though none of them appealed to Leah very strongly. Victoria, on the other hand, was much more entertained. For the most part, Leah got by with letting her chatter and occasionally making noises of interest, but when they stumbled across an "Indian ice cream shop", Victoria insisted on buying some for both of them. They didn't have any normal flavors, so Leah picked one at random and received a scoop that was a shocking shade of yellow, shot through with bits of something green. The flavor was… confronting.

She'd planned to throw it away at the next store's trash can, but by the time they found one, she'd somehow finished it.

A block or two later, Victoria stopped dead. "Oh my god," she said, "I didn't realize this had opened!"

Leah followed her gaze. Across the street from them was a small storefront done up in a style that reminded her of her old dollhouse - soft colors and lacy floral designs. One window showcased a pair of dresses - the first an intricate concoction of overflowing black lace, the other an A-line kaleidoscope of different colors and fabrics that were somehow seamlessly integrated - while the second window displayed an enormous purple teddy bear, at least eight feet tall and nearly as wide. Above the door, an oval sign lettered in elegant script proclaimed the shop, "Parian's".

"She's that stuffed animal cape, right? This is where she works?" Leah didn't have to fake the excitement in her voice. Parian was a rogue, a free agent, and as childish as her stuffed animal minions appeared, as little as she'd ever used them in a fight, the Empire had been hoping to bring her into the fold for months. Krieg especially had been arguing to make her a priority; he felt confident that her minions would be both potent and versatile, and everyone with a brain knew to trust his judgment on parahuman abilities.

When their initial slew of recruitment attempts had been rebuffed, the project had gone on the backburner until they settled on a new approach. If Leah could gather some information discreetly, maybe even establish a connection that could be used to bring her on board? She could already imagine Father beaming with pride. "Let's go check it out!"

Victoria looked surprised, then pleased. "Okay!" she agreed enthusiastically.

There was a soft tinkle of chimes as they pushed through the door and entered the shop interior. The design sensibilities of the storefront carried through into the interior decorations as well. The majority of the shop floor seemed to lie to the right of the front desk. The layout was cramped, with three mannequins on plinths modeling elaborate outfits with a few clothing racks squeezed in around them. To the left of the desk was an alcove containing three more giant stuffed animals. Behind the desk was a door, and it opened before the front door had finished closing behind them.

Parian emerged, and Leah did a double take. She wore a white, Victorian-esque dress with a high collar, long, lacy white gloves, and a porcelain mask framed by long blonde tresses - all of which matched up with Leah's expectations. But… was Parian shorter than her?

Images of what Parian might look like with her layers stripped away spun out from Leah's mind like an errant thread - a thread she snipped as the masked girl sank into a dramatic curtsy. "Welcome to my atelier," she said, her voice soft and mellifluous. "What brings you to me?"

Leah reflexively returned her curtsy, cursing herself the moment she felt her legs bend. She had none of Parian's grace - she never had, except for when she was Norn - and compared to Parian's outfit, her own ensemble of red turtleneck, black pleated midi skirt, and black tights felt distinctly frumpy.

Victoria giggled, and Leah glared at her, wishing that her power let her shoot lasers from her eyes. "We were just out and about, saw your sign, and wanted to check it out," she explained as Leah finished straightening back up. "I didn't realize you'd opened a physical store. I've seen some of your auction pieces; they were incredible!"

"Thank you!" Parian said, sounding almost startled. It took Leah off-guard - everything she'd seen so far had built an air of carefully cultivated mystery and drama around the cape that didn't mesh with that reaction at all. "If you're here for something custom, we can set up an appointment and discuss commission prices. I also have a premade selection on those racks. Don't worry about sizing; if you find something you like, I can adjust it to your measurements."

"Yeah, if the auction is anything to go by, I think my mom would actually kill me if I tried to put something custom on my credit card," Victoria said, shuddering. "We'll look at the racks."

A custom commission or three might be a good way to build an amicable relationship - Leah would have to run it by Father. For now, maybe some casual conversation? She looked over at the giant stuffed animals. "You sell those too?"

"Not generally," Parian said. "Mostly I bring those with me when I do birthday parties." One of the animals, a pink unicorn, stirred to life. It walked up to Leah and nuzzled her face. She flinched, but then relaxed into it - the velvety fabric was astonishingly soft. "Yeah, the kids love that." There was warm amusement in Parian's voice. "They love riding him even more, but I'd have to charge for that."

For a mad, fleeting moment, Leah was tempted. But then she imagined word getting back to the other Empire capes, and the sheer scorn she would face… Besides, she wasn't a child.

"I bet," she said, turning her back on the unicorn. "I'll stick to clothes though."

Parian nodded, and the unicorn returned to its alcove. "I'll be in the back, but I'll come check on you soon in case you want to try anything on." She vanished back through the door behind the desk.

Leah joined Victoria at the clothing racks and began idly searching. She didn't expect to find anything she wanted to wear, and she wasn't surprised - everything was either too showy or too eye-catching.

After a few minutes, Victoria turned to her with a dress in hand. "What do you think of this one?"

Leah looked it over. There was something of a princess dress look to it, with short, slightly puffy sleeves. The neckline was mostly flat, but with a sharp cutaway that would dip almost to the navel and expose the narrowest slice of Victoria's cleavage. The bodice and skirt were both a dark wine red, but the skirt's gores were a much more vivid crimson, revealed only in brief, striking flashes as the skirt swayed. "It'd look good," she said, hating how true it was. "What were you thinking of wearing it to?"

"Oh!" Victoria looked taken aback. "No, not for me, for you."

"What?" Leah stared at her incredulously. "Absolutely not!"

"Why not? You just said it would look good!"

"On you ," Leah hissed. Hatred and humiliation boiled in her stomach.

"Oh come on," Victoria said in a coaxing tone of voice that made Leah see red, "you'd be hot as hell!"

"Don't fucking condescend to me!"

"I'm not-"

"Shut. Up. Victoria," Leah growled. Her clenched fists shook.

Victoria stared at her, looking bewildered. Apparently it was inconceivable to her that Leah would refuse to be fancied up like a pig in lipstick and paraded around for the amusement of onlookers. She looked like she was going to keep pushing, but before she could launch her next attack, her phone started ringing. She raised it to her ear and answered it with, "Hey Mom."

Leah couldn't make out the words coming through the speaker, but they made Victoria frown. She tilted the receiver away from her mouth and stage-whispered, "Give me a minute," to Leah before stepping out of the shop.

Now alone, Leah found herself at loose ends. There was no one she needed to pretend to look at clothes for - so now what? How long would Victoria be? Leah sat down to wait on the edge of one of the display plinths. When a couple of minutes had passed and Victoria still hadn't returned, she decided to do some reading, and was quickly fully absorbed. She didn't tune back into her surroundings until someone cleared their throat.

Leah jumped. "Sorry," she said hastily, closing her book and looking up. Parian was standing over her, porcelain mask like a bloodless spectre, and Leah jumped again.

Parian shuffled back a step. "Oh, no I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to startle you. Just, could you please not sit there? Those aren't sturdy."

"Right. Sorry," Leah said again. She dog-eared her book and started putting it back in her bag.

"Is that Shieldsister ?" Parian asked hesitantly.

Leah whipped her head back around so fast she cricked her neck. "You know it?"

"I do!" said Parian. She sounded excited, but also… tense? "What do you think of it?"

"I love it," Leah said, feeling somehow both taken aback and excited. "I'm only about halfway through, but so far it's like it was written for me. The-" she hesitated for a moment, trying to put words to her thoughts, "the way that there's no explicitly fantastical elements but the characters still parse the world through the lens of their religion and superstition, how sincere and nuanced that portrayal is - my mom used to read me old mythology and legends as bedtime stories, and it feels like the events of Shieldsister could be the kind of thing that inspired some of those legends, you know?"

Leah looked away, feeling self-conscious. Babbling incoherently to a near-stranger about her nerd shit wasn't a good start to her recruitment efforts. It was just… how long had it been since someone had asked her about what she was reading?

"I hadn't thought about it that way, but I can definitely see it," Parian said with apparent sincerity, and Leah looked back at her. There was still an inexplicable tension to her. "The character dynamics are what stood out the most to me."

She should offer a measured response. She should say something concise, considered, and normal, not, "Oh yeah, the character writing is fantastic! Mara is already such a compelling protagonist on her own, but her relationship with Maebh is really the beating heart of the whole book. The way Maebh works so hard to make Mara feel like she belongs with the rest of the warband, even standing up to their King for her, but is just so afraid to admit that she needs or even wants Mara's help in turn? How Mara tries so hard to divine how she can help - literally divine, with that seer's special tea? It's just so good! And the quieter moments too, keeping watch together, binding each other's wounds, all that care and tenderness and intimacy? It kills me! I wish I had-"

Shit. Too much.

"I mean - yeah, it's… yeah," she finished lamely, kicking herself. Why couldn't she just keep her fucking mouth shut?

But weirdly, Parian didn't start edging away from her like she was a rabid animal; instead, her whole posture relaxed, like she was relieved or something. "Their relationship means a lot to me too," she said. "I don't want to spoil anything for you - you've gotten as far as Mara visiting the seer?"

"...yeah," Leah said, determined to keep herself under control this time. "Not much farther though - she's still coming down from her high."

"Then I won't say more," Parian said lightly, "but I think you'll really like some of what's coming up for them. I'm kinda jealous, honestly - I wish I'd had books like this when I was your age."

Leah frowned, confused. She opened her mouth to ask what Parian meant, but she was interrupted by the front door chimes. She looked over to see Victoria, stormy-faced and coming towards her. A frisson of fear ran through her - had she been outed?

"Fucking assholes!" Victoria spat - it wasn't quite a yell, but it was close. "God I hate the PRT!"

Rationally, Leah knew she should be relieved at that, but if anything her heart was pounding even harder, and she could taste bile in the back of her throat. She wasn't the only one afraid either; Parian was carefully edging away. Victoria was like the center of a maelstrom, the heart of a pulsing aura of violence.

Leah made the connection. "You wanna take it down a few notches?" She'd meant for the words to come out sharp, but her voice shook like a leaf, ruining the effect. Still, Victoria seemed to get the memo - her eyes widened slightly, and then Leah could breathe again.

"Sorry," Victoria said sullenly. Her posture still screamed fury.

"What the fuck was that about?"

"Apparently someone blabbed to the PRT about Monday lunch and the report just finally crossed the relevant desk, because they reached out to my mom to arrange some 'urgent additional coaching'" - Victoria made exaggerated air quotes - "ahead of my debut, so I have to be at HQ thirty minutes ago! I didn't even hurt anyone! Or try to, or even threaten to! And apparently they made it sound like it's my fault that they didn't hear about it earlier!" She let out a long growling groan of frustration.

"Okay, yeah, that is total bullshit," Leah said. Her heart was still racing.

"It's not fair! I was having such a good afternoon with you, and now I have to go get reamed out in person instead!" Victoria let out a long sigh, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to yell. It just sucks. I don't know when I'm going to have time to do this again with my new Wards schedule."

"I don't think this is a conversation I should be present for," Parian interjected, sounding distinctly alarmed.

"Oh shit," Victoria swore. "I'm sorry, it's not that big of a deal, I don't have a secret identity, but they're not officially announcing me until the weekend, so could you pretend you didn't hear that? Thank you so much for your time, we'll get out of your hair now. You have a lovely shop!"

"Thank you," Parian said, sounding both relieved and bemused. "It was lovely meeting you both." To Leah, she said, "I don't think I caught your name?"

"Leah. Uh, Leah Anders," she said, taken aback.

"Thanks for the chat, Leah," Parian said. Leah wished she could read her expressions through her mask. "I hope you like the rest of the book."

There was something underneath those words that Leah couldn't place, so she just nodded, and followed Victoria out of the shop.

"I'm really sorry again," Victoria said. "For bailing and for… that."

"It's okay," Leah said with a shrug. She felt a little irritated, but it wasn't like she was here for the pleasure of Victoria's company. "Are they expecting you to fly over?"

"Probably - I'm not in costume, but you know." Victoria gestured vaguely. "Whatever though. What are you gonna do now?"

"Catch the bus home, I think. Not really feeling like wandering around solo."

"I'll walk with you to the bus stop then!"

"You don't need to do that," Leah said. "Wouldn't want to get you in more trouble with the PRT."

"They can wait an extra five minutes," Victoria insisted, rolling her eyes. "And if not, then I'll deal. You're worth the trouble."

Leah didn't know what to say to that. She made idle conversation with Victoria all the way to the bus stop, but even once Victoria flew off, those casual, thoughtless words stuck with her.

Actions

↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Comments (28)

Kudos

Comments

Sorry, this work doesn't allow non-Archive users to comment. You can however still leave Kudos!

Footer

About the Archive

Site Map

Diversity Statement

Content Policy

DMCA Policy

Site Status

Policy Questions & Abuse Reports

Technical Support & Feedback

Development

otwarchive v0.9.458.3

Known Issues

GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTW

Chapter 810 - 56