#Celia Penderghast

[infamoussparks]

Chapter 7: Sound Choices

Approx. 4800 words; 30 minute read

“Doves…” Fetch tensed as she spit the name from clenched teeth, neon dancing at the ready behind her fingertips. Delsin held an arm out as though both protecting and preventing Fetch from making the first move.

“Ms. Walker. Pleasure to see you again,” Celia spoke nonchalantly from behind her rabbit mask, her head tilting in an uneasy fashion, “And you as well, Mr. Rowe.”

“I’ll help where I can,” Rosaline was in the office and speaking to Eugene while the screen of the laptop reflected off each pair of glasses.

Fetch was discussing something quietly with Delsin at the other side of the desk. It didn’t seem too heated at the moment but it definitely gave off the impression of being a super serious conversation between the two.

Benji sighed softly to himself as he sat on the couch beside Caly. He offered her markers and paper and they were drawing together to keep the kid occupied. Caly seemed content to be in a room full of adults and was now wearing one of Benji’s t-shirts. She hadn’t exactly been dropped off with clothes of her own and Rosaline had seemed too busy to bring anything extra for the small child, but Benji had plenty of t-shirts and didn’t mind sharing one with the tiny girl. It looked like an oversized dress on her and Caly rocked the look regardless.

“I like that kitty, Caly!” Benji grinned and added some orange color to the small cat-shaped art Caly was drawing. She flashed a huge smile at Benji and seemed to appreciate that he recognized the animal so quickly. She went to clap or sign but the paper fell to the floor off the couch and she immediately reached for it, nearly falling off the couch herself. Benji reacted quickly, grabbing her by her outfit which pulled the shirt up slightly but saved Caly from a scary tumble to the concrete floor.

“I’ll get the paper, Caly,” Benji spoke softly as he retrieved the paper from the floor and then knelt before the toddler, “Are you ok?”

Caly nodded but her face looked twisted as though the fear of what had nearly happened was settling in. Benji scooted himself back to the couch and right up against the small child before he realized some of the markers were uncapped and had accidentally left a mark on Caly’s leg. He reached out to wipe away the lines before he noticed a black smudge that wasn’t exactly going anywhere… and it looked familiar somehow.

“Hey… uh, guys?” Four pairs of adult eyes came to rest on Benji, “I think you need to see this…”

Eugene narrowed his eyes at the mark that Benji had found on Caly’s thigh. “Is that a… a QR code?”

“What?” Fetch was making her way toward the couch now with a look of intense curiosity. Delsin stayed where he was and Benji watched as Delsin exchanged some sort of look with Rosaline.

The shutter noise of Eugene’s phone brought Benji’s attention back to Caly, who was still drawing on the paper and ignoring the attention. Strange, Benji thought to himself. She definitely doesn't act like a 4-year old.

“I think this is coming up with a backdoor to Stratego’s website. Hang on a minute,” Eugene was looking at a basic encrypted website on his phone and he moved back to the laptop to scan the photo he took of the QR code with this bigger screen. In a minute he had the website up for everyone to look at on the laptop. 

Delsin was running a hand through his hair, his beanie in his other hand suddenly as he seemed to be processing this information. Rosaline was studying Caly in silence. Fetch was pacing the room, her black boots moving back and forth in front of the couch. Benji took it all in while wondering what was going on. He hadn’t heard the name “Stratego” before.

“Can you hack it from there? Looks like you need a password,” Delsin pointed out the obvious.

“Yeah, I’m on it. I can also compare the code from this page to the code on the main website to see if I can find anything to help me with this. I’ve got this, Del,” Eugene said. The laptop screen showed a basic website login screen that was an odd crimson color and had an owl logo near the top, in the center. Below that was the word “WELCOME” and then below that was a white field with a blinking cursor clearly waiting for the correct password to grant access to whatever was stored here. Benji suddenly felt uneasy, like maybe he shouldn’t be here for this part of the discussion.

Before he could mention anything about possibly leaving the office, Fetch sat on the other side of Caly and caught Benji’s eyes, “This stays here, not out there. Top secret stuff. Understand?”

Benji nodded. He was stuck now and he knew it.

But it did feel good to be trusted with whatever this was. It gave him a little bit of a boost as a potential hero-in-training. 

Suddenly, everyone was talking over one another. Commands, lists, ideas, strategizing. It was a little overwhelming and Benji was lost in the sounds of voices all speaking at once. He turned his attention to Caly, who had been focused on her drawing but was suddenly frozen, a marker in her grip leaving a mark on her paper that was bleeding and spreading as the ink continued to flow. He went to reach for her hand but before he could touch it, Caly let go of the marker and it fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up and was suddenly was hit with a wave of calm. As if everything was going to be okay. As if everything was going to work out just as planned.

He sat back and handed the marker to Caly and she shook her head at him as she hummed softly. She seemed to have switched from art to music. That seemed right to Benji, somehow.

“... but they marked her? With a tattoo?” Fetch looked angry, gesturing to Caly from her seated space on the other side of the girl.

“It’s not an ordinary tattoo.”

“What do you mean, Dr. Hutch?” Eugene asked over the top of the laptop screen. He was typing furiously but Benji couldn’t see what was on screen now, he only assumed as much from the amount of typing sounds he heard.

“Kids grow too fast to tattoo so young. The design would stretch and be unrecognizable in a few weeks, if not sooner. That has to be the work of a conduit,” Rosaline spoke and her hazel eyes were fixed on Caly, “Maybe an ink user? Or someone who could alter pigments within the skin?”

Caly’s soft humming was slowly becoming louder and Benji looked from Rosaline to Fetch. Fetch eased herself back into the cushions on the couch and closed her eyes for a moment. She seemed to be relaxing instead of remaining heated from the discovery.

“Of course. They had conduits there, they could have been using them on each other too. Like in Curdun,” Delsin grumbled and strode closer to Eugene behind the desk. Rosaline stepped to the side to allow Delsin some space between them.

Rosaline’s voice was quieter now as she spoke up, “This website may not only have a backdoor to Stratego, but a way to learn more about Caly?”

Now everyone seemed to be exchanging glances. Rosaline yawned suddenly and pulled the desk chair over as she dropped into it. Eugene’s typing seemed to be slowing as well and Delsin replaced his beanie on his head with a half-hearted motion.

“It’s possible,” Eugene said, “I’m so tired though. Could we break for coffee?”

Fetch straightened from her spot on the couch, “You too? I thought it was just me.”

“Definitely not just you. I’m ready for a whole nap,” Benji chimed in.

Then everyone seemed to realize at once as five pairs of eyes fell on Caly, humming from her seat. She gave them the biggest smile, content that the room seemed calm and quiet again. Her humming stopped abruptly and the edge of sleep stopped just as quickly.

Now everyone was looking wide-eyed at everyone else.

“Holy shhh–” Fetch cut herself off, but everyone was thinking the same thing. Immediately, coffee and doubling down on hacking this website seemed to be the first priority in the room.

It had been several hours and Eugene felt like he was on the edge of cracking the code. Or cracking up with insanity. It was hard to tell which. Delsin, Fetch, Benji and Caly had left long ago, each with their own agendas, but Eugene had coffee and he had Rosaline, oddly enough. The doctor had decided to stay to try to figure out the password based on what she knew about Caly. Nothing had worked so far but neither conduit was any closer to giving up, either.

“Would you help me with something, Eugene?”

Eugene sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee and letting his eyes rest, looking away from the screen for a moment, “What’s on your mind?”

Rosaline perched slightly on the edge of the desk, “Remember how you offered to assist me with… expanding my powers? Or getting to understand my limits?”

Eugene nodded.

“I’ve… heard some whispers in the hallways in regard to trust and the school itself. I would be willing to test my limits with possibly calming the situation, if you’ll grant me time to explore my abilities.”

“Ah, yeah,” Eugene sighed, “We’ve had some unfortunate instances lately with a group of conduits who seem intent on pulling the warehouse into chaos. Delsin, Fetch and I have done our best to avoid any issues, but we’re seeing more students off campus than on these days and that’s worrying.”

“Let me try. I may predominantly work with babies but I know a few things about the human condition as well. It comes in handy for working with adults and I would be willing to try to use what I know here as well.” Rosaline held her coffee in her hands, twisting the cup slowly as she spoke.

Eugene contemplated her offer. It wouldn’t hurt to have her try. And if anything, her abilities could be an amazing boon to the warehouse team overall. “I’ll have to run it by Del and Fetch, but I have a feeling they’ll oblige.”

Rosaline offered a small smile, “I hope they do. After everything the warehouse has done for Caly and myself, this would be a small way I could repay my debt.”

“You don’t owe us anything, Rosaline. I hope you know that.”

Rosaline nodded but Eugene could see her mind was made up and she was here to help for as long as she would be useful to the team. He was secretly relieved about that because after everything they had come across in such a short amount of time it seemed that getting help on their side was as important as ever.

Eugene took his phone from beside the laptop and sent a text to the group chat consisting of the heroes of Seattle with Rosaline’s proposition. He received a text back immediately from Delsin who was in. Fetch did not reply, but she had never been much of a phone person. He put his phone down and turned his attention to the laptop. He had the new backdoor Stratego website up in one window and the code for the website in another. He was scrolling the code when he had a thought and brought the website to the forefront. He moved his cursor into the password box and typed in a single word. Then he released a shout of accomplishment. The password was cracked and the website began to load the next page.

Rosaline moved to stand directly behind Eugene as the website loaded and Eugene made a note on some scratch paper on the desk, circling a single word.

“That’s her. That’s Caly,” Rosaline breathed as she neared the screen from over Eugene’s shoulder. The video conduit pulled his attention back to the screen and there he saw a photo of Caly and a blog of sorts with information and updates on her status. He started to scroll through but noted that a lot of the experiments were heavily detailed and he instead closed the laptop before Rosaline could read forward too far.

“I’ll show this to the group. I’m glad we have this though. Hopefully I can use it to discover more about the team behind Stratego and what their goals were. Also, this gives me a way to get information on a potential… criminal,” Eugene spoke carefully, choosing his words slowly as he sat back in his chair. He could use this new database to aid him in a search for records on the other ‘Projects’ kept by Stratego. He could try to find information on whoever Cindy Signet was too. This could help answer so many questions.

Rosaline seemed curious as she raised a single eyebrow but said nothing.

“I think…” Eugene hummed, “that you should join me in the training room. If just to show you where it is and how we run powers in there. Plus, I could use a good stretch.”

Rosaline contemplated the offer and checked her watch, noting the time. “Alright. I could use more coffee afterward.”

Eugene chuckled, “I can help with that. Follow me.”

Rosaline followed behind Eugene, leaving the laptop in the safety of the office while Eugene ran scenarios in his mind that could be used to help Rosaline push her powers or encounter new ones. He didn’t know much about magnification and he was curious to find out more about it from the doctor at his heels.

It was late afternoon and Delsin and Fetch were atop the roof of the warehouse meeting up for what felt like the millionth time that day. Fetch was tired and hungry, the day fallen to plans and schemes built around what-if scenarios that may never come to pass. She watched Delsin send a text to a new group of people pulled from his contacts–two new additions to the normal office team that now made up the new “Stratego Situation” group. Her phone buzzed lightly in her back pocket and she didn’t bother to fish it out, already knowing Delsin was summoning Eugene, Rosaline and Benji to the rooftop. 

So it didn’t make her feel any better when a familiar tingle lit the hairs at the back of her neck in a timely interruption of the oncoming discussion. A swirl of paper fragments wove between them, fluttering quickly before coming to rest at the top of a capped exhaust stack, revealing Celia in their wake.

“Doves…” Fetch tensed as she spit the name from clenched teeth, neon dancing at the ready behind her fingertips. Delsin held an arm out as though both protecting and preventing Fetch from making the first move.

“Ms. Walker. Pleasure to see you again,” Celia spoke nonchalantly from behind her rabbit mask, her head tilting in an uneasy fashion, “And you as well, Mr. Rowe.”

“Celia. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Delsin spoke harshly but did not move his arm from in front of Fetch. She growled lowly behind him, clearly frustrated with the forced patience.

Celia hummed softly not bothering to move from her perch as she addressed the question. “I want the same thing you do, Delsin Rowe. I want freedom for our kind. I want us to be in full control. Isn’t that something you still want, too? Isn’t that the final outcome for this place, your warehouse? Your school?”

“What? No, that’s so–”

“Fetch.” Delsin snapped her name and the neon user bit her tongue. She glanced between Celia and Delsin from her space slightly behind him and felt her anger blooming in her chest.

“Celia, I don’t think you understand,” Delsin started again, “That was the past. I was younger, we were both younger then. Now we have the world at our powered fingertips and all I want is for people like us to feel accepted and acknowledged without feeling afraid of who they are.”

Celia laughed. It sounded cold and empty. “And you train them to build their power so they can hide it for the rest of their lives? I think you can do so much better than that.”

There was a sound of commotion from below and Fetch heard Delsin curse under his breath. There was a clatter of what sounded like multiple powers clashing at ground level and Fetch realized too late that Celia was only a distraction.

“Maybe you should take a few minutes to really look at what you want from this idea of yours; are you helping your students or are they simply pawns in your version of Curdun Cay?” Celia tossed out a single hand and a whip of paper shot through the air at blinding speed. Delsin and Fetch both leaped away from one another to avoid the attack. Fetch shot neon in response, her missiles of bright light finding their mark just a second too late as Celia leaped over them and landed a few feet away on the rooftop.

Celia shouted, “You owe me a thank you for taking down Stratego, by the way. I hadn’t known that faction was still operating. It’s as dead as our enemies now.”

“We don’t owe you anything, Doves!” Fetch shouted in response. With the chaos erupting below and now on the roof, Fetch readied a new shot but Delsin told her to hold. She did as she was instructed and then Eugene was at her side, angels of blue pixels lining up before the Heroes for added defense and support. Celia cocked her head, her mask tilting to one side before she laughed again. This time it sounded full of vitriol. And then she vanished in a swirl of paper speeding toward the opposite end of the rooftop.

A scream from below had Eugene gasp and he looked over at an angel who was hovering just off the side of the building. A flash of steel wings glinted with the sunlight as a male student flew up to the roof. He was panting slightly, a grimace on his freckled face, “She’s back. The poison one.”

A splash of water was heard over a rupture of shouts and then the steel wings folded and the male student took a calculated dive from his height. Fetch huffed at seeing Brent and knowing his twin sister, Jean, was bringing water to a gas fight. This wasn’t going to plan. At all.

“Celia brought her friends. Of course she would. What is she after?” Fetch hissed and flared her neon at her hands. Colors of pink and yellow arched up her arms.

“Caly. I think.” Everyone turned around and faced Benji who was rolling his shoulders and standing behind them on the roof. “I ran into Rosaline on the way up here and she said Eugene told her to get Caly and stay in the training room.”

“I did. When Rosaline and I got to the rooftop door I could see Celia and I sent her back downstairs,” Eugene confirmed.

“Great,” Delsin griped and then blew out a rush of air before quickly forming a plan, “Eugene, with me. We’ll tail Celia. Fetch? You take Benji and go after the intruder. Everyone protect Rosaline and Caly at all costs.”

Before anyone could alter the plan, Delsin was off rushing in a trail of smoke toward Celia’s game of chase, Eugene and his angels regrouping and falling in line behind him.

“Sure, Smokes. You and Gameboy go after Doves. I’ve got Hazard.” Fetch was furious, fists balled up at her side as neon licked up her arms. But she was ready this time. She knew what was at stake. She knew Hazard’s ability and how to counter it now. She wouldn’t be caught off guard, not again. Never again.

Having Benji with her was a risk but he had an incredible power and a plan started forming as Fetch nodded to him and bolted off in the opposite direction, Benji following her closely as he utilized his parkour skills to the fullest of his abilities leaping over items on the roof with ease.

“How much power do you have stored up?” Fetch dropped into a crouch at the edge of the rooftop, surveying for Hazard below. A burst of neon green gas caught her focus and she narrowed her eyes, tracking the girl like a trained sniper. Old habits die hard.

Benji crouched next to Fetch on the rooftop, “I’m full.”

Fetch cocked an eyebrow and then rolled her right shoulder backwards, loosening up for the battle ahead, “Good. On my signal I’m gonna need a full blackout. Think you can handle that?”

“A full blackout? But it’ll affect you, too. Are you–”

“Benji. You wanna be a hero? Sometimes you gotta trust your instincts and choose the lesser evil. Hazard is a menace and I can handle a little darkness.”

Benji worried his lip for a moment before nodding and taking a deep breath. Fetch watched him carefully and then stood tall and strong, looking focused and calm.

“Follow me, but keep to the rooftops and out of sight. On my signal, full blackout. No hesitation,” Fetch shook out her arms and legs and tested her knees. She was ready to spring to the ground from this distance with her brilliant neon on full display, “And if things go wrong, don’t let Hazard get too close. Keep her as far from you as possible.”

Fetch tracked the neon green bursts for a moment longer before dropping to the ground in a bright display of her own neon colors. She had planned for this location drop and was smirking with satisfaction when the poison girl flit right into place. Hazard paused in her movements, turning to face Fetch with all the confidence of a bird with puffed feathers. She shifted her goggles up over her fringe and gave Fetch the biggest grin.

“I see you woke up! I hope you enjoyed your timeout, Neon Princess.” Makayla hissed out the name like a slur.

“I’m back for my rematch, Hazard,” Fetch snarled in response.

“‘Hazard’? I like that one. Thanks,” Makayla inspected her fingernails for a moment and Fetch tensed seeing the girl bring her hand close to her face in such a familiar move.

Fetch let off a missile of neon directed at the girl before her and it landed at her feet. Makayla leapt backwards, dropping her hand and the toxic gas with it. Without direction, the gas was useless and dissipated quickly into the air. Makayla frowned with the distraction.

“Okay, fine. You’re on. But you’ll have to do better than that, Fetch.”

Fetch straightened her posture, her hands flicking forward with neon ebbing and flowing like waves around her arms. “I never miss my mark.”

Makayla reached up and quickly adjusted her goggles back into place over her amber eyes. She smirked and seemed to welcome the challenge. Then she acted. A blast of green gas was forced toward Fetch but the neon user was quicker and tossed up a shield which lasted long enough to prevent the gas from being breathed in as intended. Makayla took another leap backwards and quickly glanced behind herself. Fetch was all rough edges now, colored in neon light and looking more dangerous by the second. But this spot was perfect as it was the back wall of the warehouse with no place to run. A deadend. Makayla would need to rush past her to get free, or use a new trick.

Fetch wouldn’t let either happen. Revenge was on her tongue and it tasted bittersweet.

Makayla blew more gas toward Fetch, but the neon user instead wasted no time and raised one arm to the sky, releasing a blast of Neon straight into the air. Fetch watched as Makayla flinched and then followed the neon blast with her eyes before she burst out laughing.

“I thought you said you never miss? I’m right here!”

Fetch shrugged, “Maybe I wasn’t aiming for you.”

Makayla stopped laughing immediately and started looking around for anything that would be broken or could possibly trap her right here. Fetch watched as the girl started to slowly be swallowed in a dense fog that was building from the ground up. As it came for her as well, Fetch crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

Benji wasn’t sure what the signal would be but when he saw the neon flare fly straight past him into the air, he knew. He crouched on the rooftop and dug deep into himself. Using his power always made him feel uneasy and nauseous. He hated his specific power. It had always been one thing to be teased about his skin tone and how he “blended into shadows” or “disappeared at nightfall”, but it was another thing entirely to control those shadows now. Controlling the only thing people compared you to in jest was a harsh reminder of how others viewed you. Benji knew not everyone saw him this way and he had been reminded of that when Lucky touched him but it was a hard idea to shake completely.

He shook the feeling of his heart being in a vice grip and poured his focus into calling forth shadow in a way that was an ultimate power move. The shadows rushed from his fingertips and crawled over the edge of the rooftop in a mass of what looked like a shadow waterfall. He could feel when the shadows hit the grass and he pooled and pushed them together, building the shadows into a dense darkness that took over the area and blocked out the light.

Benji worried for a moment about Fetch, but the release of power was a high unmatched and he found he was pushing himself to really make this the best blackout he’d summoned. He would become a true hero, if only by his own standards.

Nothing was coming down. Nothing was loose or shaking. Whatever Fetch had aimed for had missed its mark, of that Makayla was sure. She shook out her hands and started pooling more toxic gas when Fetch seemed to be fading into a fog.

Makayla wiped at her goggles. Sometimes they steamed up when she was in the heat of battle. But the fog didn’t wipe away. Now she shook away her gas from her fingertips and moved the goggles up into her hair. The fog seemed denser and Fetch was surely receding into it. Which is when Makayla looked down at her own hands and noticed the same thing happening to herself. The fog crawled up her body and was slowly pulling her into the darkness.

Panic began to set in.

Makayla swallowed heavily and tried to wave the fog away, but it didn’t budge. The color was slowly shifting from a light gray into a light black, each second passing by in slow motion. The darkness blotting out the sun from overhead and devouring Makayla into shadows she could not escape. A strangled cry came from her throat as the panic took hold and she realized she was fully lost into darkness. Her breathing came in quick heaves, her hands started to shake and her knees collapsed onto the soil beneath her. She realized she was sobbing, wailing quietly to herself as she wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked herself in one place. The darkness was inescapable. This was terrifying.

It was so dark. She could no longer see anything. Not even her own body that she was holding so tightly her fingernails were causing pain to her sides. She was sobbing so much she could feel snot dripping from her nose but she couldn’t regain control here. This was her nightmare come to life.

Then, with an unexplained quickness, the darkness began to recede. It was pulled from her like a million blankets over her head and she gasped for air, a full mess of tears, ruined makeup with snot and spit dripping down her chin.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry…” A voice laced with heavy concern and regret came from her right and she looked quickly in that direction like a wild animal caught in a trap with no place to run. A man stood there, his eyes glowing a soft gray color before he blinked and the shadows disappeared just enough to make out all of his features. His brow furrowed with recognition as he took in her sorry state. “... Makayla? Is that you?”

“Ben–Benji… ?” Makayla choked out his name and then a bright neon blast knocked her backwards into the grass and everything went dark for the second time.

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Twenty-Nine — Paper Trail

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

6k words | 30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Illness, medical procedures [mentioned], racism, abuse, lore. so much lore.

⚠ AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are a lot of imbedded links on this chapter! Some are very low quality, as I had to work with what I could screenshot off of Youtube. If only SPP compiled their stuff in one place like a normal game company. Anyways enjoy!

I woke up to Dad sitting on the floor next to the couch, calling my name gently. “Jeanie, wake up,” he hummed. “C’mon, I made coffee.”

“Do I have to?” I grumbled, face still in the cushions. 

Dad and I had stayed up for nearly two hours after I had walked back into the house and talked about everything; the guilt, the anger, the truth. He wasn’t as mad at me as I thought he was—while he was upset, he didn’t blame me for it. Any of it. “Jean, you don’t know what to do o-or what’s going on,” he reassured me, “I can’t get upset at you for that. I just want you to be careful.” He wanted nothing more than for me to trust his judgment. And maybe I needed to; Dad knew what he was doing. I’d be safe if I listened to him, right? I had to trust him. 

But it was hard, when we both kept hiding things from each other. 

So I extended the olive branch first, and told him the truth; the pain in my back when I use my powers but how it eases when I’m in water. He listened intently to it all, simply nodding along. “I’ll tell Eugene in the morning,” he eventually decided, “We’ll figure it out, I promise,” 

Maybe it was wrong for me to not say anything about Mom as I was huddled into his chest, but I wasn’t sure I could get through that conversation without becoming a blubbering mess. And besides, maybe that was simply meant for me. No one else. 

The heart-to-heart led to us falling asleep on the couch, my head in Dad’s lap as he reclined back. Apparently I exhausted myself in my sobbing so much that I didn’t know Dad slipped away in the morning. Not until he woke me up at least. “Eugene needs to give you a look over and we…we need to talk to you about something too.”

That got me to turn to look at Dad through my curtain of hair. He was crouched holding two cups, Dr. Sims standing behind him with his arms crossed. 

This was gonna be fun. 

Dr. Sims assured me he knew enough basic medical care to know if I was okay. “Or at least, if something is wrong,” he added, looking me over. “Double majored while in college, I just never took the MCAT.”

I had no idea what that was, but nodded like I did as he checked my pulse, timing it against his watch. 

He looked over my scars, checked their stitches. The hole in my neck was barely touched but he at least seemed satisfied by how it looked under its clear wrapping, which I was beginning to think was just saran wrap taped down. “Your dad said it hurts when you use your powers?” he asked me, examining the scar on my side. It was settling into a nice purple, bright against my skin. 

“It’s — it’s not really a hurt,” I started, trying to downplay it. Dad was looking at me too intensely for me to be comfortable with just admitting the fact. “It’s almost like I feel sore when I do, in between my shoulderblades.”

Dr. Sims nodded, hand coming around to my back. “Right here?” He asked, pressing between my shoulder blades. My hand tensed around the coffee mug as I nodded, trying not to wince as he palpated the area.

“Yeah,” I eventually said. 

Dr. Sims hummed, moving his hand away from my back. “And does it hurt while you use your power, or after?” 

I shrugged. “Both? But it only hurts while I’m using it if I do it for a long time. Otherwise it’s usually this, like, twinge after.” 

He nodded, moving to the table to type out some notes on his open mini-laptop. Dad sat back down on the couch beside me, one hand staying wrapped around the coffee mug while the other came to wrap around me. 

I didn’t like that. He would give out affection often, sure, but holding? That usually came before bad news. 

Dr. Sims picked up his laptop and brought it close, sitting on my other side. “Jean, we got your test results back.” He began. 

My heart stopped. “Already?” I asked meekly. Dad’s arm pulled me a bit closer to his side as I slightly turned to face Dr. Sims better. 

Dr. Sims nodded. “I pulled some strings.” 

I waited a moment for him to continue. “So then…what did the results say?” I asked. I hated that he wouldn’t start explaining without my prompting. 

Dr. Sims looked at the computer. “Well, the good news is that there’s nothing wrong with you genetically,” he began. “In terms of chromosomal makeup, you and Brent look perfect.” 

I nodded slowly. “That’s…that’s good,” I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. “But then,” I looked back to Dr. Sims, “Why am I not healing?” 

Dad’s arm squeezed around me gently. “That’s where the bad news comes in.” He said softly. “You know how we took samples of the stuff on your leg?” 

“Yeah?” 

“The results came back abnormal,” Dr. Sims said. “We’re not sure what that means yet, though. Once we’re done here with Mr. Dunbar, I want to take you to the nearest Accredited hospital to do more tests.”

I had to suppress a groan. More tests. “What would — what’re you looking for?” I asked. 

Dad took over the conversation. “Well, answers. We now know Augustine’s tar, one hundred percent, is what’s making you sick. We just need to know how, and why.”

“Mr. Dunbar already got in contact with someone who can examine the tar for us. He just left to mail it. They’re in Boston, so it will take a day or two to get the sample there — but I know this person. She’d be able to uncover any secrets we wouldn’t be able to see.”

 “And we need to make sure you’re okay, too.” Dad added. “See if anything’s changed since the last time we took blood, check your scars. Your arm could probably use a check-up too.”

“And I want to examine your conducrine gland, with your report of pain,” Dr. Sims continued. “I want to take a quantification assay and make sure you’re making enough proteins, and double check that you’re not having any complications. Maybe an MRI.”

I nodded once. “Okay.” I said, like I wasn’t both confused and dreading everything.

“Until then, if you have any more pain, you tell us, okay?” Dad practically demanded. Dr. Sims got up from his spot on the couch to set his computer back on the table, grabbing his empty cup and heading to the counter to get more coffee. 

There was something I needed to know, though. “Did Mom’s com–conducrine gland ever hurt? When she was sick?”

I could feel Dad’s arm around me tense. “It did,” he said. 

“So it’s happening to me too? I thought my test results came back normal, genetically.” I looked at Dad. “If it happened to Mom too, then how…”

A shadow crossed over Dad’s face as he scowled. “We’re wondering the same.”

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

The hot cup did nothing to warm me as my blood ran cold. They both seemed angry at the idea that Mom had something put in her, too — and I didn’t like the fact that despite reassuring me they’re not sure what the cause could be, they both seemed settled on a reason to blame. 

Brent eventually stumbled downstairs looking refreshed after resting, which was a relief unlike any other as the image of his lifeless body began to lose its harsh edges in my mind’s eye. Dad managed to find and burn some eggs and turkey bacon as we waited for Zeke to return, and for a brief bit, it almost felt like I could pretend that everything was normal. That we were on some trip in a less-than-stellar rental and this was just breakfast after a night spent gaming or binging a movie series Dad insisted was fantastic. 

Imagining was all I could do to keep from dwelling on the what ifs. 

Zeke eventually came back — and then stepped back out, bringing in muddied ammo box after muddied ammo box. “They’re weather resistant,” he explained to Brent when he gave Zeke a bewildered look. “Which is needed when you live in a swamp. Good for hiding stuff.”

Dad crouched low and pulled his briefcase out from under the loveseat couch, saying, “I brought everything I could. Some stuff got damaged in Betty’s old storage unit, but I managed to salvage most of it.”

“Is that why you brought the briefcase?” Brent asked, glancing over at me. We had a bet going on what he was intending to do with it. “I thought you were just gonna start going back to work,”

Dad’s smile was half hearted. “Nope. Everything in here’s from my adventures,”

The way Dad sarcastically said adventures suggested it wasn’t the fun kind in the movies. 

Dr. Sims began working at his computers at the small table, the mini-laptop perched precariously on his lap as the other two shared the liminal space of the wood. Dad sat on the couch between Brent and I and opened up his briefcase, revealing a hell of random stuff; dozens of crumpled and folded pieces of paper, random little shreddings that almost looked like trash. There was some flier that was badly taped together and newspaper clippings, notes upon notes in Dad’s scratchy handwriting layered in margins of scrap paper and what almost looked like…

“Comics?” I blinked, pulling up the creased stacks of paper. “Did you make a comic?” 

I looked up at Dad in time to see him grimace. “No.” He said, flat. “Those were all clues some crazy killer left me while she tried to frame us all.” 

I looked back down at the artwork in my hands. “Oh.” 

“But there’s—“ Brent began flipping through the papers Dad shoved in his hands. “There’s DUP documents in this?” 

Dad shrugged. “I had to hack into their database to get some answers. She was Augustine’s favorite lackey.” 

“Always leads back to that bitch,” Brent murmured, glancing over at me. 

“Brent.” 

“Oh c’mon Dad, you can’t keep getting onto me about it,” 

“Help me organize all this,” Dad commanded, ignoring Brent completely. “I printed out everything I didn’t have a physical copy of so this is…it’s gonna be a lot.”

“How the hell are we supposed to organize this?” Brent asked, incredulous. 

“There’s serial numbers on them all,” Dad said, pointing to a row of one on a DUP document in Brent’s hand. “Find the connected files if you can.” 

“Delsin, come here for a second,” Dr. Sims said at the table. Dad promised to return and help but asked that we get a head start while he was going over something with Eugene.

The comic wasn’t really a traditional one, but almost some sort of manga; a story about a rabbit that lost her family in an attack, and was safeguarded by a large dragon before being locked away. The art style was immaculate, I had to admit — but I didn’t get how some story with a dragon was supposed to be a hint, unless this version of the Zodiac Killer was hiding some code in the shading. 

Brent nodded my way as I looked over the first page again. “What does that say?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a bunch of drawings.”

“I meant the back.”

“The—” I cut off, flipping the page. 

Death is just a passing phase. I’ve danced with demise, and let me tell you, he’s a bad dancer (always stepping on my toes). But I’ve learned to embrace the macabre — to navigate its twisted depths. Conduits and “normals” are at a crossroads, and if we don’t look both ways, we’ll all get run down. All I want — all I’ve ever wanted — is harmony between people.  Follow my lead and I’ll show you the trail of bodies. Seek out the corpses and you’ll find the truth decaying within. 

“...Oh.” I said meekly. This had to be what Dad was talking about. Some twisted manifesto by a serial killer. 

I flipped over the others, and each of them had something on their backs — some, notes, others, puzzles. “Hold on,” He said, leaning forward. He grabbed the second page of the manga. “‘If you’re trying to get into the DUP, I’ve been there. In fact, I died there.’” He read off. “Look, there’s that serial number thing Dad was talking about.” 

I read off the row of numbers. “Do you have this file? Starts with, uh—” I glanced down again, “3485?”

Brent muttered the number to himself again and again as he flipped through the pages in his hand. “Here,” he finally said, pulling one out from the middle of the pile. It was a statement issued by Brooke Augustine herself on the death of a Conduit detained at Curdun Cay in a death by a thousand paper cuts — literally. Suicide by dozens of cuts created by paper doves. “Jesus Christ,” I murmured, imagining the pain. I read over the memorandum again, pointing to its first sentence, “There’s a number here, do you have a file for that one?” I asked Brent, “Ends in 2606,” 

“I was just looking at that,” He said. “Fuckin’ — here. Some girl named Celia.” He looked over to Dad, who was behind Dr. Sims, reading something on a screen. “Who was Celia?” 

“Paper conduit?” I asked, incredulous. She could control paper! Or, did — at least with enough control to kill herself. 

Dad glanced over. “She’s the one that made those drawings.”

I blinked. “Guessing she also did the murders?”

“Yep.”

“How’d she get out?” Brent asked. “This says she died,”

Dad breathed deeply, Dr. Sims waving him off and letting him return to our side. “Augustine faked her death to sneak her out of Curdun Cay. Killed some random guard."

“But why?” I asked, looking up from the row of manga strips.

Dad didn’t answer — not at first, at least. He sighed deeply before reaching into the briefcase for a manila folder, opening it and peeking past the flap to check its contents. He nodded once before reaching in to start pulling out photocopies of pictures, laying them out facing us. 

“Jesus,” Brent muttered.

I wasn’t prepared for it to be 90% bodies and death, of someone pinned to a billboard or being held against a wall by dozens of paper doves, bloodied and beaten and dead. “I need you both to look at this,” Dad said, looking up at us with a serious expression. There was barely any emotion in his face now, eyes peering at us like we were on the stand. “Augustine and Celia did this to keep up the narrative. Killed people that had ties to your mom and Eugene to make it look like it was them seeking revenge.” He leaned forward slightly. “And Archangel bombed COLE to try and get me to show myself. There are people out there that will see you as nothing more than a chance to hurt someone else. Nothing more than something to keep the story going. These are the kind of people I’m trying to keep from hurting you.” He looked between Brent and I. “Do you understand?” 

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes to peel away from the imagery of death and look somewhere, anywhere else. I wasn’t prepared for that. Bodies. A path painted in bloodshed long before I even had the chance to walk it, and littered with fresher meat for the sacrifice of someone else's cause. It felt so hopeless; was this really all there was? All there could be?

Looking away wasn’t a good idea, because my eyes moved from casualty to casualty as they landed on a picture of Mom next to some detective agency’s logo. 

My hand was moving to pick up the file before I could even blink, bringing the black and white photocopy close to my face. I swear, if I concentrated hard enough, I could make her eyes move, almost see how she would bring her chin up and cock her head to the side like she did in the hallucination. 

And this time, I wasn’t too sad while looking at the picture. Zeke was right; was it wrong to treat it as a fact even if there was a good chance it wasn’t? Maybe it was better, knowing the hallucination was just that and yet still being able to be a bit indulgent. 

I forced my eyes off of Mom’s photo to the blurb under it, reading through the information this random detective agency had. “Wait,” I murmured, rereading a single line again and again. “Dad? This thing says Mom’s parents wanted to…wanted to talk to her again.”

Brent’s head snapped around to look at me. “What?” He demanded, snatching the page out of my hand and swatting me away when I tried to take it back. “Holy shit, that’s Mom,”

Dad meanwhile did nothing more than sigh hard. “We did hear from her parents. Shortly after we did the whole gender reveal thing.” His jaw tightened at the memory. “It didn’t go well.”

Brent lowered the page, brow knitting closer together as he looked up at Dad. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

I put down the manga drawings in my hands, giving Dad my full attention too. I had always wondered, if we had a mom, where her side of the family was. I understood Dad was an orphan, he never shied away from that fact; but he never elaborated much on Mom except that her brother passed. I never found the courage to ask about grandparents on that side, either. Brent had once, and the scowl was enough to make me realize it was something he never intended answering. 

Until now. “We had met somewhere in downtown Seattle, which was probably the first mistake. They both didn’t want to be in such a liberal area, and it didn’t help that Lifeline was protesting a lot more after the mass Curdun Cay release. Your mom was still on trial for her murders—”

“While pregnant?” Brent asked, eyes widening. 

Dad shrugged. “All of us were. You think they were gonna let all of us go without a fight? There’s a reason the Akurans found your mom so easily.” He inhaled hard, trying to bleed the anger out of his voice. “They weren’t happy about the publicity of the trial. Add that on top of your mom having children with someone that wasn’t white, and the fact that they refused to apologize for turning Abbs in to the DUP and…well, why keep them around?”

“Jeez,” I hummed, glancing back down at the page in Brent’s hand, Mom’s face staring back at me upside down. I couldn’t think of much else to say but that, other than wishing I could’ve somehow supported Mom during that time. Her parents wouldn’t even say sorry for giving her away to the government!

Brent could form more words than me. “None of the shit she went through would have happened if they didn’t try to sell her in the first place,”  He bit, angry at their audacity. 

Dad nodded. “You would think they’d feel bad after everything that started coming out about Curdun Cay — the experiments and all that. But these are the same people Abbs told me didn’t think conversion therapy was a bad thing, so I guess they just saw it as another form of that.”

“Assholes.” Brent spit. 

Dad didn’t reprimand him that time. 

“Let’s just go through these files.” He finally decided. “Jean, get together all the F.A.N numbers from the back of those drawings. Brent, start throwing things in piles by person or facility or whatever.”

I snuck a chance at reading more of the manga as I scribbled down everything I found on a torn bill envelope Zeke passed over to me; it was Celia’s life story, pieced together by the files and clues connected to it. A girl who lost everything like so many others right here in New Marais before being found by a dragon and locked away in some cells carved into the side of a mountain. There was imagery of the child rabbit being torn in half as a being more sleek and pure colored rabbit, which I had to guess had to be her ‘death’ and rebirth, if the note on the back was anything to go by. In fact, I died there. 

It never showed how she escaped, but the next page did show three others as they rushed away from the dozens of wyvern pursuing them — it took me longer than I’d admit to realize who they were. The next page spoke the representation clearly though; ‘Inazuma…vengeance now her drug of choice.’ The peahen was slaying shady looking shrews with needles slinging away from their hands. 

Mom. 

The next page featured a rooster named Ushinatta who had ‘went back to playing games’, the rooster opening its huge wings and calling down hens to peck at some bullies. That had to be Dr. Sims. 

There was a third guy, though, that I realized I didn’t know. 

Kemuri. Some sort of lizard…or maybe a gecko? “Who swore he’d never harm anyone” the page read as the gecko attacked a caravan driven by an elephant. There were three people that escaped that van, weren’t there? Mom, Dr. Sims…and someone else. 

I lifted my head and was about to ask Dad when Brent said, “Here, this dude matches the drawing,” under his breath, handing me another DUP file. An incident report, in fact:

Despite our best efforts to isolate the detainees in as safe and thorough a manner as possible, two ward-mates developed a relationship that threatened to undermine the careful work being done with both: inmate 007-3171-8404 began looking out for 056-7339-2606, warding off any bullies and establishing a friendship.  RESOLUTION: Inmate 007-3171-8404 was relocated to the maximum-security ward, due to his history of escape attempts and insurrection.  Monitoring of inmate 056-7339-2606 has been increased ever since she used her daily paper privilege to create the attached image:

A full body drawing of the gecko was photo scanned with the DUP file, creased lines doing nothing to hinder the artwork.

My new friend was taken away today, the words under it read, It was my fault, I’m sure. I was just trying to be nice…just like he was nice to me. He told me I reminded him of his daughter. And now, just like my real parents— He’s gone. 

“You got anything on this 8404 inmate?” I asked Brent. Dad was busy organizing a bunch of little tags, not even registering that we were talking. 

Brent’s side of the floor looked way more organized than mine; perfect piles of paper with shredded clippings on top of each one, numbers or names scribbled on top. “Yeah, uh—” Brent’s eyes scanned the piles in front of him before he reached out, snatching the page away so fast that the clipping on top of it fluttered off somewhere. “Here. You plan on organizing the comic thing, by the way?”

“Fuck off,” I murmured, nearly laughing when Brent’s head snapped towards Dad as he waited for the reprimand, and balked when he saw it wasn’t coming. I stuck my tongue out at Brent before looking at the inmate file, trying to keep my snickering as quiet as possible. 

Hank Daughtry. Apparently some guy that was a criminal before puberty, who’d rob or break out of jail every chance he got — but never harmed a civilian when he did. Curdun Cay was the first place to keep him in place. At least, till that military vehicle.

The power section, though, held all of the answers I needed; he could wield smoke. Embers and fire, too, if the paper was to be believed. I could hear the echoes of Dad’s voice in the back of my head: “She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and DUP funding, all that.” 

Betty had said Dad helped bring down her warehouse when he first got his powers. The first power. Smoke. 

But that didn’t explain why Dad was so quiet about this guy. Why, before this moment, I had never heard of him. “Dad?” I asked. 

He tore his eyes away from the newspaper clipping in his hands. “What’s up?”

“What happened to this Hank guy? You know, after Seattle?” I glanced down at the file again — there wasn’t even a picture of the inmate on this one. There was a wall of blacked out text at the bottom of the file, though. “Did he not help you guys?”

Behind Dad, Dr. Sims stopped typing, looking over to where we sat. Even Brent stopped to see what Dad was gonna say. 

“He didn’t.” Dad said simply, jaw clenched. “It was just me, Eugene and your mom that took on Augustine.”

Brent blinked. “What, did he not want to?”

“I wouldn’t have let him if he did. He was a piece of shit, anyways.”

I glanced down at the inmate file; moral code, immense self discipline. Whatever issue Dad had with him sure didn’t seem to match the document. “What happened to him?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

Dad’s voice bit with a ferocity that wasn’t usual from him unless we were in trouble. “I mean,” I scrambled to say, the tone activating the fear of getting grounded in me, “I guess not? I was just wonder—”

“Then there you go. It doesn’t matter.” Dad inhaled deeply before continuing, “If Daughtry’s files don’t have anything useful in them, then do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Throw them in the trash.” Dad said flatly, moving to get up. He left towards the kitchen where Zeke was messing with the discarded stuff from another ammo box, roughly grabbing the stale pot of coffee to pour a cup and drink it black in one go like it was a shot. 

I looked over at Brent, bewildered, who was already turning back to face me with his eyebrows shot up so high they were close to disappearing into his unkempt hair. He mouthed What the fuck? at me and all I could do is shrug, taking the rest of the papers in Daughtry’s pile to look over. May as well double check them before they became landfill food. 

Not that there was much left in his pile; There were three more pages with no more than three paragraphs on the largest one, each following reports of Daughtry possibly being seen somewhere in Seattle after he broke out blowing up cars in an attempt to assassinate that asshole senator who was caught years ago saying something about how Hitlers policies at least were keeping people safe in that leaked audiofile as he admitted to trying to replicate them for Conduits. 

One of the bullet points on the results of the DUP’s investigation caught my eye, though: no residual signs of Ray Sphere radiation detected. Radiation? Why would there be radiation in the middle of downtown Seattle? “Does anyone know what ray — Ray Sphere radiation is?” I asked the room.

Over in the kitchen, Zeke’s head popped up, looking to Dad for a moment. Whatever he was trying to ask, Dad gave him permission with a shrug of his shoulders. “The Blast in Empire City was from a Ray Sphere.” Zeke began. He took a moment to dig in a box before pulling out one of those leather journals that always looked a little too light brown to be real, brass metal corners of the journal catching the light as Zeke flipped it open. “The First Sons made it.”

He began walking towards us with the journal as he flipped through pages, humming when he landed on what he wanted to show us. “Here. Journal’s useless in some spots ‘cause it’s written in code, but this is what the thing looked like.”

He flipped the journal over and held it out for me to take; the page was a sketch, one side full of components, the other what they all looked like pulled together into one device. 

Brent snorted beside me when he scooted over to look at it, and I knew it was because we were thinking the same thing. “It’s shaped like a Death Star,” He said humorously, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. 

“Just as powerful, too.” Zeke responded. “Thing blew up six blocks and killed thousands.”

That shut Brent up real fast. 

“But I don’t—” I cut off, looking down at the drawing. The etchings beside each piece were all code, the only one highlighted being a jagged piece of rock. “Why would the DUP look for Ray Sphere radiation at an explosion site? Unless they thought someone was trying to take out Seattle.”

Dr. Sims moved off of the barstool, walking over. “May I?” he asked me, giving a nod of thanks when I handed the journal over. He perused the page and then looked at Zeke. “Where did you get this?”

“It was Wolfe’s,” Zeke answered.

That one word was enough to make Dad’s head snap up, and he turned around. “Raymond Wolfe?” He asked. 

Zeke shook his head. “Sebastian, his brother.”

“Oh,” Dad said flatly. “The First Sons scientist. Great,��

Zeke shrugged, gracefully brushing off Dad’s disapproval. “Hey man, sometimes you have to be willing to drink the poison if it means you find out how it would kill someone. We used this to figure out how the RFI worked.”

Dr. Sims flipped through the next few pages, eyes lighting up. “I know this code,” he murmured, before looking up at Dad and Zeke and repeating the words. “I know this code — it was in one of the DUP files I stole. I could decode this journal,”

“Y’think it would have anything that would help us in it?” Dad asked. 

Zeke looked over his shoulder. “Wolfe was the First Son’s top scientist. If there’s anyone that might have information, it would have been him.” Zeke shrugged. “I reckon it’s worth a shot.”

Dr. Sims snapped the journal shut, nodding. “I’ll move upstairs to the spare room, I’m going to need the space.” He said decisively. Each laptop was put in rest mode and shut, stored away at a speed I didn’t know what possible out of someone so lanky. “D, come get me if you all make any progress down here, okay?”

Dad looked at Zeke. “Do you still have the stuff from the runaround with Wolfe?” 

Zeke turned to face Dad fully, watching Dr. Sims disappear up the stairs. “No, I gave it all to Alessia. She might still have it, if we’re lucky.”

Both Brent and my head shot up. “Wait, like, Aunt Sia?” I asked, looking at Dad.

Alessia was known to the world as the chairwoman of COLE and an old ringleader of Project Sanctuary, the nationwide underground anti-DUP movement. In those seven years the DUP had control and were hunting down Conduits to bag and tag, Alessia was trying to sneak Conduits over the border, stage protests, and…well, give the DUP a hard time. If it involved picketing or slashing tires, she was there, coordinating the attacks. 

We didn’t know her as that woman for the longest time, though. To us, she was Aunt Sia; the woman who would watch us when Dad had to go take an exam while he was in school, or needed a break. A babysitter that cared so much about us. The cool lady who brought these fancy Japanese candies every time she’d come over and would take us to things like renaissance faires. I remember her teaching Dad how to braid my hair and making huge masterpieces out of legos with Brent, indulging me by declaring every little drawing I made a masterpiece. She had moved away six or seven years ago and we really only got to see her when there was some big COLE event near Portland. 

But I was surprised to find out that she knew Dad as Delsin and not just Damion.

Dad’s eyes wandered off as he thought. “I…I could call her, see if she still has anything from then.” Eyes snapping back to Zeke, he added, “You’d have to show me how to make calls with your setup, though,” 

“‘Course, it’s in my shed. C’mon, I’ll show ya,”

Zeke was heading towards the door with Dad hot on his heels, who only stopped in its frame to turn to Brent and I and say, “Take any notes on anything you don’t understand, okay? Maybe we’ll figure something out.”

He was gone before we responded. 

“You think this was what he did the whole time?” Brent asked, looking at me and holding up the stack of files he hadn’t gone through yet. “Just reading files and shit?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Last I heard he was attacking innocent civilians and killing random passersby.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “How he dealt with all of this without killing someone, I’ll never understand.”

We worked in silence for a while, me taking the time to finish the story and begin to piece it to its pieces of evidence; Saisei had found a new friend, a bird with two heads, and it wasn’t hard to make the connection on who that was supposed to represent. He would tell her stories, and they would laugh for hours on end, the page said, largely contrasting the story Dad had told us. It had to be some sort of mockery thing; I send you running around, and you try to figure out why I’m a psycho. What a laugh! 

But the dragon came down, disapproving of their banter. I fail to see the humor, it said, to which the two-headed representation of Dad replied look harder before beginning to fight her. The personification of Augustine. An epic battle of good and evil…but the roles were debatable the page read, like I was supposed to sympathize with Augustine as she fell to Dad’s talons. 

I wasn’t ready to read the little bunny call Augustine’s character Mama. 

“Look at this shit,” Brent murmured, handing me a page. It was an email log between two people. “Does this make sense to you?” 

It made a lot of sense, too much sense, as I read the first message title: Purotekutā to me (“Saisei”).

I explained the comic to Brent as we reread the email chains together, the pieces of the truth falling in place. “Augustine asked her to stay in the shadows, that she can’t protect Celia.” I looked at Brent, bewildered. “D’you think she adopted Celia? Like, as her own kid?”

“Well she calls Augustine Mama in this thing—” he waved around the stack of stapled manga, “So I’m guessing so. Or whatever fucked up version of ‘family’ they were playing up there in Curdun Cay,”

“‘You have done everything I asked and more, but unless he can be controlled, Delsin is our enemy.’” I read from the email chain. “‘He is blinded by his power, he thinks he’s invincible. But without walls, without his brother, who will protect him?’” 

Brent scoffed. “What a bitch. I should have killed her when we were fighting in the Sound.”

“Think that’s crazy, you should read the last entry on this thing.” I said, offering the paper with the email chain. “Celia messages Augustine saying something about needing to know whose purpose was stronger and that’s why she didn’t try to help her.”

Brent shrugged, taking it. “Raise a lunatic, and don’t be surprised when you’re eventually their victim.”

“Augustine really made everyone her pawn,” I hummed. “Mom, Dr. Sims, this chick. How much of it do you think was to protect Conduits?”

“Not enough, considering she lost.” Brent huffed.

[morastfrck]

Hey good morning. Remember Celia from Paper Trial who became murder, after seeing Delsins actions? I imagine that Delsin would take full responsibility on her as a hero, while trying to make her better person and not let Augustine’s actions hunt her down. He sorta becoming like a big bro to her, while Celia would have a person who cares and protects her. Delsin would be a big bro to her. Celia deserves some happiness

heyyy!! good morning (or any other time of the day)!!

ofc i remember her and YES she deserves all the happiness (poor girl, augustine screwed her so badly like imagine betraying a child. and then all the murder stuff)

about your idea, i can totally see this happening. Delsin already took the responsibility for fetch and eugene so i feel like it would be natural for him to do something about celia too

[evelynhug0]

5 comfort characters

i got tagged a while ago by @thebellenouvelle and @henrythepug and I really really wanna do this, so here we go:

Evelyn Hugo (The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo) I mean, that's super obvious, isn't it? I'm obsessed with her! I'm not a famous actress like she is but I can relate to many of her experiences, especially with men, love, bisexuality. Also she's such a strong, powerful woman and sometimes when I feel weak, I'm like "okay, stay calm and do what evelyn would do". She just means so much to me, I don't even really have the words to explain it 😭😭😭😭😭

Olive Penderghast (Easy A) I have loved Olive and her way of thinking & her attitude since I've first watched Easy A. when I was 16. She's such a cool gal, honest, with a good heart and so wise. Watching Easy A and listening to what she says always makes me feel better about myself and the way my life is going.

Sprotte Slättberg (Die wilden Hühner) She's a bit of a mess sometimes (like me hehehe), but she's so honest and lovely! Also Die wilden Hühner in general is just pure comfort and love!!!!

Celia St. James (The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo) I love Celia, she's such a cute baby and I'm all HEART EYES when I think about her, even tho thinking about her also makes me a bit sad for several reasons. She's so full of love and aaaah that's so sweet! Like Evelyn, I love her so much, can't really find the words to describe it.

Alex Owens (Flashdance) She's a strong woman who follows her big dream which is so inspiring. I love her attitude, the "never give up" mentality and also her stubbornness. As a teen, I often thought about her when I considered giving up because she was so motivating.

I tag @queerchoicesblog @michameinmicha @mondfahrt @all-chickens-are-trans @hubertdehippie

[ataraxiamfrp]

It's Kalo, I'm gonna drop Aradia Megido (chateau 2), Celia Penderghast (chalet 9), and Wrench (suite 3). I just don't think this server is for me, sorry

Hey, Kalo. We're sorry to see you go but that's totally understandable! Thanks for writing with us! ARADIA MEGIDO, CELIA PENDERGHAST and WRENCH have been dropped for you!

✨ mod grazia

[videoangel]

hc dump? hc dump, this ain't our first rodeo, so let's go!

>born to upper class family, made up of bethany and fredrick martin‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ in milford, delware--the couple having separated when eugene was‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ pretty young, freddie never really being apart in the small child's life.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >after the divorce, bethany martin, an inspiring politician, moved ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ to seattle with her kid in tow. due to her work within the community,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ mostly in anti-conduit organizations, was quickly offered a role in‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ city council. eventually, she became the city's local representative.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >when eugene lashed out at school, when his conduit gene be‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ -came active, augustine offered her a deal: allow them to whisk‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ him off to curdan cay, and they would cover up the ordeal entirely.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ knowing this incident could harm her career, she, of course, agreed.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>as far as the public knows, eugene was just another helpless victim‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ that'd been killed, not the conduit himself. (though, rumors did still fly.)‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >to this day, bethany still 'mourns' the 'loss' of her child, now using‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ his apparent death as apart of her usual anti-conduit propaganda.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >feeling betrayed, once he escaped curdan cay, now free, he‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ dropped the martin name entirely, deciding on 'eugene sims'.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>he hasn't decided if he'll ever go public against his mother,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ considering his preference to stay behind the scenes, but…‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >at the least, he has a new family now, in delsin, and fetch.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>naturally, he has some lasting scars, both physical and mental, from curdun cay‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ and their experiments, being used as a training tool for other conduits, basically.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >most notably, two circular burn marks sit on either temple, with lightning-esque‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ scars branching out from it. going across his face, and down both sides of his‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ body. this was because of the electrified chair that was often used during long‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ days to continue forcing out his abilities, pushing him further and further.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>a few other issues developed because of this, such as‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ occasional seizures, memory issues, and a slight stutter.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >his powers are replication-based, shaping hard-light certain‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ objects/entities that’ve been mentally recorded, now re-played.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ such as his angels/demons, wings, swords, etc etc, which are‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ all based off things from heaven’s hellfire, a video game, ofc.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >he can also travel through screens, and make mini replica‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ worlds based off what’s displayed, pulling people into them.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >minorly, he can copy faces and voices from videos, too.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>his form/body in general can flicker and glitch, he seems‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ almost slightly too animated compared to his surroundings.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>in the early years of curdun cay, eugene was actually rather close‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ with celia penderghast, or. well, as close as two people could get,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ in their situation anyway. neighboring cells, slipped notes, etc etc.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >he was heartbroken by her apparent death, and now that he’s‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ aware she’s actually alive, has been trying to track her down.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >delsin gave him one of the paper doves she’d left behind.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>there's a stray cat that comes and goes from eugene's dominion, a little calico‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ with a bob tail. he's affectionally named them 'hethoenne' or 'hethie', a reference‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ to a character from heaven's hellfire. they usually appear on cold or rainy days,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ curling up in his lap as he plays games or works on programming/hacking jobs.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>The Gang(tm) regularly ends up in news coverage and in general‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ the media spot-light quite a bit, helping conduits and what not. eugene‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ofc, isn't. the biggest fan of this, and tries to step back, allowing delsin‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ and fetch the spotlight. to the point most people aren't even aware what‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ he looks like, outside of his he who dwells form, only used during battles.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >people still ask about him though, a bit curious, so. delsin and fetch,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ respecting eugene's wishes, have started making up the most random‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ shit about him, see what people actually believe, you know? asdfghjkl‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>augustine and eugene had… a weird relationship, in augustine's‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ eyes it was almost maternal. she saw it as a necessary evil, it was‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ for their own good, for young conduits like eugene, or celia. teaching‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ them, protecting them, raising them, that's how she saw it, anyway.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ >eugene did see his parts of his actual mother in augustine too,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ but not in a good way, of course. he was always terrified of her.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>a random funfact/hc abt gene that isn't rlly important, but i think ‏‏‎ ‎ is kinda funny anyway: the schools gene went to growing up were,‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ like. rich kid catholic schools, y'know? the really really private ones.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

>ur random mini hc of the day: heaven’s hellfire, aka the game eugene’s rlly into + ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ his powers are based on, is like. a mix of world of warcraft and league of legends.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎

>a silly/mini hc abt eugene: his eyes are sort of? screen-like? they can display‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ different things, basically! some examples being: tv static, usually when using‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ his powers. a blue/crash screen, usually when caught off guard. X’s or swirls‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ when tired, injured, or otherwise dazed. hearts when he’s fanboying about ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ something, etc etc. idk it’s not like… anything important, but i think it’s cute.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

[swanhili]

doodles from today hi celia

[defrostedwang]

Any headcanons for cecilia? (The girl in the rabbit mask from the infamous second son dlc paper trails)

I know so little about her actual story that I’m not going to do the story-type headcanons that I do for other characters because I never played paper trail. But I will give you some stray here-and-there things :)

- she files her nails with a glass file she painted herself. It has a crane on it.

- she likes hot tea and gets it from a nearby shop that sells Scandinavian-themed teas, teacups, candies, knick-knacks, and decorations.

- She loves cheesecake and has a natural talent for baking.

- Unrelated, but Fetch also loves baking, and is just fractionally better at it, but it’s hard to tell because she makes simple family desserts like pies, cakes, and quickbreads whereas Celia focuses more on the classy, high-fashion desserts you sometimes see on Instagram or on reality shows. You’d really have to taste their creations back to back- Fetch beats out Celia when it comes to taste.

- Celia absolutely bops to Vocaloid music.

[yardalesicon]

[internetcupid]

"i've learned so much from you, delsin. now i know that no one can give you freedom, you have to take it."

[infamoussparks]

Chapter 4: Skeleton Closets

Approx. 5,200 words; 40 minute read.

Everyone had secrets to keep, this was just a fact of life. You don’t rise to power, become labeled a “hero” and not have a lockbox hidden away. Delsin knew his secret had been safely buried, but now it felt as though he was going to have to reveal his hand. And he knew, beyond any doubt, that his secret was going to shatter any spark of trust he had built up. With everyone.

Delsin mused over his list, mentally checking boxes next to tasks that seemed to be finished enough for now. He had personally called Rosaline to inform her of Eugene’s findings and she didn’t sound surprised at the least. Rosaline did ask that the team continue to house Caly for the moment, only because the hospital was crawling with reporters even a full day after the incident and she didn’t feel it was a very safe environment for the 4-year old. Especially if Caly had suffered trauma, which seemed more and more likely given Caly’s reluctance to speak while seemingly retaining full comprehension of what was said to her. Rosaline would have Caly’s vision and hearing tested as soon as she could.

After speaking with his team, Delsin paid a visit to Benji who was more than happy to continue to spend time with Caly and be excused from classes. Benji was a good student, only faltering in training classes as he struggled to accept his power and outright refused to use it, even with Fetch’s reassurance that she would be there the whole time and could help him break control in seconds. Benji would just shrug and stop participating and Fetch didn’t push him. Delsin wasn’t concerned about Benji missing any additional classes for the time being.

Eugene hadn’t made much more progress on digging deeper into Stratego simply because they had a very innocuous website and no apparent backdoor into what the company really was. He was busy trying to crack the code in various ways between teaching his classes.

Fetch delivered on her lists of students. The lists were hand-written but grouped students by powers that worked best together to provide the most support for everyone, should they need to start getting defensive on campus. Delsin had kept the conversation strictly business, even though his heart ached to pull Fetch aside and just talk. He made another mental note on his list to get Fetch alone soon.

But Fetch did that first.

“Hey, Smokes… Got a second?” She had rapped her knuckles against the open office door and pulled Delsin suddenly from his head as it snapped toward the door while he straightened from leaning against the desk. Fetch offered a soft smile, “A little jumpy today?”

“Yeah, sorry. Lost in my thoughts. Come in,” Delsin motioned toward the couch and he moved toward the refrigerator, “Want anything to drink?”

Fetch closed the office door behind her and dropped onto the couch in one graceful motion, “Is it too early for a beer?”

Delsin chuckled as he grabbed two beers and joined Fetch on the couch, handing her one of the glass bottles. She quickly opened it and clinked it against Delsins’ before taking a long sip. She sat back against the couch and blew a puff of air up toward her bangs, the pink-dyed hair fluttering before settling against her forehead again.

Delsin leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees while his bottle hung loosely between his fingers. He didn’t say anything but he felt the tension in the room rising between the two conduits in the silence.

“Let’s try this again. You and me.”

Delsin felt his eyes go wide at the words but he only glanced to the side to check if Fetch was still there and this wasn’t some weird daydream. She was absolutely still seated beside him, head tilted slightly to her right as she gazed at him. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not going to push things but I don’t want you to do this because you think I want it.”

“You do, though,” Fetch took another sip from her beer bottle, “And I do, too. I’m tired of chasing my shadows. Delsin, we’re 30. We need to stop messing around, you know?”

Delsin did know but this whole conversation was not at all what he was expecting. He slowly sat back against the couch and nursed his beer for a moment before responding. 

“What brought this on?”

“We’re about to face something crazy, I can feel it. I don’t know what Stratego means for us but I know it isn’t a good omen. And… Honestly, I just miss you.”

“Do you? You haven’t been very open to the idea of ‘us’ in years. And I know that’s my fault too, with the whole…” Delsin motioned by swirling his beer around. It was still too hard to name, “I’m tired of playing games.”

Fetch shifted her position and she leaned up against Delsin then, resting her head on his shoulder. Delsin didn’t move, just waited with learned patience. Fetch could be hard to read sometimes and this was one of those moments. But she was opening up and he didn’t want to accidentally close her off, so he sat with the silence caught on his tongue.

Fetch lowered her voice, her words sounding more sincere, “No more games. I promise. And you know I don’t break my promises.”

“You never have.”

Fetch moved her beer to her right hand, sliding her left one over to Delsin. He paused a second before offloading his beer to his left hand and taking her hand with his right one, their fingers lacing together. It was quiet in that space and Delsin realized he missed her touch. He missed any touch, really. It was incredibly hard to have physical touch with the power to drain other conduits. Even after all these years he still had no control over that first touch and it had resulted in a great deal of personal frustration.

But he didn’t have to worry about that with Fetch as he had taken Neon from her long ago and she never shied from his touch while they were together, on and off again. 

Maybe this time would be different.

“Fetch Walker, you know I can’t turn you down,” Delsin mused softly, giving a quick kiss to the top of her head. Fetch snickered in return.

“And I can’t give you up, Delsin Rowe.”

After an hour, the office had shifted into what looked like some sort of detective set. Papers with hand-written notes covered the desk, Eugene was sighing and growing more and more frustrated behind the laptop screen, Fetch was picking up papers and putting them down again in some sort of pile system that only she seemed to understand, while Delsin was pacing the room, a familiar scene as he was trying to put the pieces together in his head.

“... You two kiss and make up, or what? You both seem a lot more relaxed today.” Eugene sat back in the desk chair, pushing the laptop away from him and took his glasses off as he pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. Delsin and Fetch exchanged a look and Fetch smirked as Delsin winked at her.

“Something like that, Gameboy. When you gonna introduce us to your partner?” Fetch teased. Eugene suddenly flushed three shades of red and looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“You know I’m too busy here for that.”

“Oh? That’s not what I heard from our local barista…”

“Oh my Go–”

“OKAY, so.” Delsin cut Eugene off and pulled the conversation back to the topic at hand. Eugene gave him a grateful look and Fetch waved the distraction off, “Where are we on Stratego?”

Eugene sighed loudly, “Dead end. No backdoor, no hints in the code. I’ve tried everything I can think of but I can’t find anything that would connect them to the kidnappings or alleged experiments.”

“So that either means they aren’t behind it, or that they are absolutely behind it.” Fetch chimed in, her focus waning from her paper stacks.

Eugene sighed again, clearly on the brink of giving up, “Did you research the funding, Delsin?”

“Not yet. I was going to see what I could find after my visit today.” Delsin had stopped pacing and was now standing behind Fetch.

Fetch glanced up at him and furrowed her brows slightly, “Are you seeing Betty today for your weekly visit? Where does the time go?”

“Yeah, time is a mess lately, right? I’ll be back before you know it. You two got things under control while I’m offsite?”

Eugene and Fetch agreed in unison and Delsin gave Fetch a swift kiss on her forehead before leaving the office behind.

Everyone had secrets to keep, this was just a fact of life. You don’t rise to power, become labeled a “hero” and not have a lockbox hidden away. Delsin knew his secret had been safely buried, but now it felt as though he was going to have to reveal his hand. And he knew, beyond any doubt, that his secret was going to shatter any spark of trust he had built up. With everyone. 

Delsin loved his visits with Betty. They helped to keep him grounded when things were overwhelming with the start of the conduit school project. They helped to keep him fed when the warehouse took all his time and energy. They provided him with a place to express himself when things with Fetch took a turn for the worst, or when they worked out again. Betty was always welcoming and warm and loving, no matter what stuff Delsin seemed to be slogging through. She was his rock.

Which is why he visited her every week. Or so the story goes. He actually only saw her every other week. And this week was an off-week, so he wasn’t expected by Betty today. He was, however, expected by someone else entirely.

He drove his familiar blue pickup truck on the highway to avoid the main street traffic and took the same exit as the one he took to get to his reservation, but he didn’t drive far enough to even find himself in those familiar woods before home came into view. Today he turned nearly immediately off the access road and traveled along the street until he pulled into a parking lot. He parked and sighed, steeling his nerves before exiting his pickup truck and heading inside the large building.

“Welcome to Seattle Inpatient Psychiatric Cent–Oh! Hello, Mr. Rowe!” A cheery nurse waved as Delsin entered the building and approached the desk to sign in. She was always very helpful and Delsin had long ago picked up hints that maybe she was interested in him, but he didn’t want to pursue something with her with so much else going on in his life. And now he didn’t feel the need to anymore.

“Hey, Lissa. Always nice to see you,” Delsin finished signing in and he caught Elizabeth smiling with a fresh flush on her cheeks. Delsin was the only non-staff member she allowed to call her by that nickname.

Elizabeth stood and walked from behind the desk, using her badge to summon an elevator, “I’ll bring you up to the room. Please follow me.”

“Sure thing,” Delsin followed and once they were inside the elevator he was distracted by his own thoughts, “Any change? Talking? Movements?”

Elizabeth shook her head, “Sadly, none. The doctors are taking good care of her and following your instructions.”

Delsin sighed and ran a hand along the back of his neck as the doors opened to the floor that Elizabeth had requested. She walked out first and he followed her a few steps behind. She stopped outside a closed door marked with a single word and gave Delsin a brilliant smile.

“Here we are. Please just signal if you need anything. You have…” Elizabeth checked a clipboard hanging to the right of the door, “30 minutes with her. She has a call after you from her family.”

“Thank you, Lissa. I should be fine with her alone.” Delsin flashed a side smile and gave the nurse a quick wink. She flushed bright red and then nodded and quickly left back toward the elevator. Delsin watched her go and once he was mostly alone in the hallway he refocused on the door before him. And that one word written across the whiteboard attached to it–catatonic.

With a strong inhale through his nose, Delsin opened the door and went inside.

The room was airy and bright, the walls painted an off-white but not quite cream color. The bed was at the far left corner. A huge window was directly across from the door and a table with two chairs pushed in around it found to the far right. The room was mostly empty except for a lone wheelchair pushed before the window with a person seated within comfortably.

Delsin had always been a man of buried regret. He was known for doing the “right thing” but he’d learned quickly that the “right thing” always came at a cost. Maybe he was chasing that absent praise and reassurance that he would never receive from his lost family members, leaving him stranded in this odd in-between state of doing just enough to prove himself but never enough to find himself in it all. Regardless, after his win seven years ago against the D.U.P., sealing Brooke Augustine within concrete never sat right with him and he was soon at her aid to free her after all the interviews and photos and attention, only to find the damage had been done. Now, Augustine remained here at Seattle Inpatient Psychiatric Center in her catatonic state. Delsin donated a huge sum of money toward her care and protection. And to keep his visits a secret, off the public record.

“Beautiful day out there, Augustine,” Delsin approached the wheelchair with a bit of nervousness in his tone and mannerisms. Knowing he was partly at fault that Augustine was here at all weighed heavy on his conscience.

Augustine did not respond. Or even blink. Not a single movement or sound. She just stared out the window at the view, seemingly fixated on the Space Needle in the distance.

“The warehouse is doing well. We’re more full than ever these days. Helping all the… what did you call us? ‘Bio-terrorists’, right? Helping all of them to feel more connected and human than you ever did. Us conduits need to stick together.”

It was like a sort-of therapy to talk aloud to her every other week. No input, no laughter, only silence. It was like talking to himself but Delsin knew Augustine could hear him. Somewhere deep in her mind, she was there seething or crying or apologizing or planning. Delsin didn’t know which, but he never skipped a visit.

He may have been the only constant she had left.

“Listen, I didn’t come here to banter with you about the state of things, but I do have a question for you,” Delsin slowly made his way to stand directly in front of Augustine and then he kneeled so he could look into her eyes, “Who are the Stratego? This group the D.U.P. funded way back when it was still active? They are causing problems for us now. Does that name mean anything to you? Stratego?”

Augustine did nothing. Delsin huffed quietly.

Delsin tried again, “At least blink or something, dammit. I know you know something. Do you know who the Stratego are?”

Again, nothing. Not even a twitch.

With a grumble, Delsin rose from his spot before Augustine and looped around her chair once. He was clearly at a dead end here, but maybe it just meant that Augustine did know something. She may have tried to signal otherwise if she didn’t know anything at all. Maybe. It was still a possibility.

“Okay, fine. I’m going with my gut on this. We’re going to sort through this and dismantle whatever the Hell Stratego is, with or without your help,” Delsin gave Augustine’s face one more lookover before he turned his back and headed for the door. Not exactly a wasted trip but it didn’t feel very productive either.

Delsin reached the door and tossed out one last message, “If you think of anything, have the nurses contact me. I’ll see you in two weeks,” Then, the man with more than one power and more than one chip on his shoulder, left the room and the hospital behind.

The Stratego lab was bustling with people calling out news and updates and coordinates. The main room was full of several computers, monitors showing muted feeds of people within cells down the halls. A small team of three was in the main section of the room, surrounded by computers on each side. One woman stood with a clipboard, a pen wiggling between her fingers like a fidget toy. She barked orders after checking her watch for the third time.

“Anthony, ready on the transmission hacking?”

“Ready,” Anthony called, his eyes glued to the monitor before him, fingers posed over a keyboard.

“Thomas, call ready to connect?”

“Roger, Cindy,” Thomas gave a thumbs up and an enthusiastic grin. Cindy rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose which pushed her glasses up into her hair for a moment.

“Good. Connect the call. Anthony, begin the transmission interruption.”

Thomas pressed a button and a phone ring began in the earpiece in Cindy’s ear. Anthony immediately began typing away once she signaled that she heard the ringing.

“Hello and thank you for calling the Seattle Inpatient Psychiatric Center. How may we direct your call?” The kind voice who answered was accompanied by a soft beeping that signaled the call was being recorded.

“Yes, hello. This is Cindy Signet. I’m calling to speak to my Aunt, Brooke Austine.” Beep.

“Ah, Ms. Signet. Let me transfer you to Elizabeth and she’ll connect you. Please note that all calls are recorded.��

“Yes, thank you.” Beep. Cindy watched Anthony from a few feet away. He was typing and clicking and slowly solving an invisible puzzle.

The call was transferred and Cindy and Elizabeth made small talk before she connected the call to Augustine’s room then went to retrieve the phone and hook it to an apparatus so that she didn’t have to hold it the entire call.

“Cindy? Are you there?” Elizabeth confirmed before sliding the phone into the holder for Augustine.

“I’m here. Thank you so much Elizabeth,” Cindy checked her watch again, “How much time do I have?” Beep.

“Thirty minutes. I’ll be back at that time to disconnect the call.” Elizabeth sounded so pleasant on the other end of the call that Cindy almost felt bad for her.

“Perfect. Thank you again,” Beep. “Is she doing any better?”

“Still catatonic, I’m afraid. But she seems to have had a lovely day today.” Beep. “Here she is. Enjoy your call.”

The phone was placed into the apparatus and a soft clunk noise was heard as it was all adjusted into place. The silence that followed was abruptly interrupted by the familiar beep of the recorded call and then a strangle garbled noise, like a record scratch pitched down. Cindy focused her gaze on Anthony. He signaled that he had hacked the call and disconnected the recording device successfully as always. Cindy let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Augustine, it’s Cindy. How are you, Director?”

Silence.

“Good to hear it. I’ll cut to the chase, I have good news and bad news for you.”

Dead air.

“Bad news–Project 41 escaped with Project 42. Good news–we found and neutralized Project 41. Unfortunately, we cannot locate Project 42 at this time.”

Deafening quiet.

“I have teams out but we have no traces of her yet. As soon as we find her, I’ll contact you.”

A soft noise. A swallow of breath.

“Of course we are keeping things as quiet as possible. No one will be suspicious.”

Another noise. A quiet click of lips parting.

“I understand, Director. I’m on it. Good-bye.” Cindy turned to Thomas and held up her hand, then created a fist. Thomas disconnected the call and Cindy let out a rush of air.

“She’s pissed.”

While things unfolded at the hospital in secret, at the warehouse the sun was brilliant and warm as late afternoon blossomed into early evening hours. The students at the warehouse were none the wiser to the chaos running through their teachers’ heads, but then again Delsin, Fetch and Eugene were very good at tucking these things away to not cause a mass panic with inexperienced power users. It had been a secret rule of theirs since the beginning in pulling together what they needed to make the warehouse a reality. In teaching others, panic needed to be almost non-existent. They all wanted to give everyone a chance at learning safely and not in a trial-by-fire situation that they all fell into once their powers had awakened.

Black platform boots swung through the air as a young woman sat perched on a branch within a tree just outside the warehouse’s main entrance. She was watching the students come and go like little ants marching to and from their colony. Her loud, rave-wear aesthetic was mostly concealed from behind the leaves of the tree, neon green, black, yellow and purple melting into the shadows and sun-kissed patches around her.

Finally, her amber eyes caught a student in her sights. One she had overheard the name of. One that seemed like fun to play with. That wasn’t her directive, but she loved rules simply because she loved breaking them. She dropped from the tree in a graceful plummet, landing as quietly as possible. She pulled a pair of gray-tinted goggles from her dyed black hair over her eyes taking care around her eyebrow piercings, then pulled up a black mask from around her neck being cautious around her piercings in her lower lip and in her nose as she covered the lower half of her face before stepping out behind the student.

She reached over, tapping them on the shoulder with one hand, her neon green fingernails matching the fishnet arm warmers she wore, “Sam?”

Sam turned around to see who needed their attention and clearly did not recognize this person at all. The woman smiled beneath the mask she wore and held out one hand, palm up as if expecting a gift.

“I forgot my little key-pass-thingy in my dorm. Could I borrow yours?”

Sam squinted their eyes trying to place this person as a friend and before they could ask how they knew each other, the woman sighed loudly and pulled her mask down revealing her face.

“Ugh, fine! I tried to give you an easy out, but whatever. Enjoy your headache,” Before Sam could react, the woman held her other hand to her face, opening her palm and blowing a kiss of green gas directly into Sam’s face. The student wobbled, then pitched forward completely unconscious and the woman caught them and dragged their body into the bushes behind her. She felt around Sam's hoodie and found the emblem the students wore and unpinned it for herself. She held it up to the sunlight and shrugged before attaching it to the strap of her revealing black shirt. Then she pulled a folded piece of paper from against her hip, held there by the band of her tulle skirt. She tucked the paper into the pocket of Sam’s hoodie.

“There ya go! A little gift from your new friend, Makayla. Sleep well!” Makayla giggled, then turned and literally skipped into the warehouse, allowed access by her ‘borrowed’ pinned emblem. Her toxic gas could do terrible things if she wanted it to. For now, Sam would stay passed out and trapped in a nightmare until someone found them in the bushes and woke them. They would likely have a migraine upon waking. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Makayla looked around within the main entrance of the warehouse, casually moving her goggles back up over her triangle-cut fringe, dyed black and neon green in two perfect sections. Her amber eyes widened as she looked around, taking everything in.

“Holy shit. This place is so epic.” Makayla started moving down the main hall slowly, running her fingers against the wall as she walked, etching a map within her mind. It was way bigger than she thought it would be and the place was full of people all doing their own thing, all different ages. It was even more amazing than she had been told.

A small child raced by to her right, giggling loudly as a student in a dark blue hoodie chased her. Makayla was drawn toward them for a moment before she heard a commotion behind her and she spun to look only to see another student dragging Sam inside.

Makayla cursed under her breath and did her best to squeeze between students who were coming over to investigate and attempt to help Sam, which left the hallway mostly empty. Someone called out a name that Makayla hadn’t heard in years and she watched as the Eugene Sims came out of a classroom to check on Sam’s pulse. She continued to back up slowly and suddenly felt herself collide with someone. She spun around quickly to face them.

“I’m sorry I was distra–Oh, shit.” Makayla’s purple-tinted lips hung open in disbelief as realization clicked in her mind. She had just walked into the Fetch Walker. And Fetch didn’t seem happy about it.

Fetch had been watching the commotion from the second floor balcony but Eugene had been closer and reached Sam before Fetch could. Fetch still headed over to investigate and see if she could calm the students and break up the ring that was growing as people were trying to see what was going on, when a student bumped into her who seemed to be suspiciously trying to flee the scene. And when this neon-wearing kid turned around to apologize Fetch saw guilt written all over her face.

“Wait. Who are you?” Fetch immediately had her hackles up, her defenses rising as she looked over this spry woman before her. 

Makayla was better under pressure than anyone ever gave her credit for as she countered, “You’re Fetch, right? I guess you could say I’m a big fan.”

Fetch glowered and gritted her teeth, “Liar.”

“Oh? You recognize one-for-one, huh? Love that for you.”

Fetch could feel her neon burning at her fingertips as her buttons were pushed, “Choose your next words carefully. What did you do to Sam?”

Makayla brought her green gas to her palms. The toxin swirled and collected as she stepped back into a more defensive pose, “A fan of my work too? How sweet. I’ll give ya a free sample on my way out.”

Fetch didn’t wait any longer and simply rushed this intruder in a bright pink arch of speed and agility. Makayla was faster than she looked and the neon green gas aided her in narrowly avoiding Fetch’s leap. Then green and pink streaked down one of the darker, empty hallways as Makayla led a chase through the warehouse that Fetch was destined to win simply because she knew the layout. Makayla realized this wasn’t a bright idea, so instead she baited Fetch with quick dodges and false steps, keeping the Neon user on her toes. But the end of the hallway quickly thwarted any hope Makayla had for winning this encounter and she stopped running, hands up in surrender. It was a dead end.

Fetch left her neon to glow around her fists as she stood tall and approached Makayla slowly, “Listen, I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me what you did and why you’re here and we’ll talk it out.”

Makayla laughed in response, dropping her googles back into place and bringing her fists in front of her face as though she was cowering in fear, “You wouldn’t hurt me? Even though you’re glowing?”

Fetch snarled slightly and shook her hands free of neon, knowing her power was an instant pull if needed. She had to appear less aggressive if she was going to get this person to talk. She did her best to memorize the woman in front of her while showing her neon-less hands in a show of good faith, “I’m not going to hurt you. Would you hurt me?”

Makayla grinned and quickly opened her hands to reveal two full palms of green gas. In an instant, Makalya blew the toxic gas into Fetch’s face and watched the conduit drop to the ground. She tiptoed over to Fetch and toed her body for a moment with her boot. With no response, she dropped another folded piece of paper on top of Fetch’s stomach.

Makayla whispered her response, “Yes, I would. Sweet nightmares, Fetch. Pleasure to meet you and knock you out,” Makayla didn’t stick around and instead dashed without aided speed back down the hallway the way she had come and paused only long enough to assess the situation where Sam, Eugene and the crowd of students were, then she rushed into the cafeteria in the opposite direction.

The cafeteria was half full of students not bothered or unaware of the situation in the entranceway and Makayla marveled at the food choices here. Her stomach made a rallying cry on her behalf and she walked over to the burger station, grabbing a container of french fries and then walking casually out a side door that led back outside. 

Once outside, Makayla breathed in the fresh air deeply and adjusted her googles back on top of her head, “Freedom and french fries. Life doesn’t get better than this.”

“I’m baaaack~” Makayla’s voice a sing-song as she waltzed through the door, evening darkness covering her entrance. Hours had passed and Makayla made sure to take the scenic route home. The concrete room felt more like a prison than a hideout but it never bothered her. It was what her leader seemed comfortable with, so she didn’t give it a second thought.

“Makayla Grayson. We agreed on no powers.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got bored. Sue me later.” Makayla waved the accusation off and then stood on tiptoe, stretching her interlocked fingers up to the ceiling with a satisfied sound.

“... And?”

Makayla laughed as she skipped over to an empty desk hopping up to sit at the edge, swinging her legs freely, “And I got you a key. You were right, place was loaded with powered, but don’t worry none of ‘em tracked me back here.”

She unpinned the silver emblem from her shirt and placed it on her closed fist then flicked it toward her leader using her thumb. The small emblem caught the light as it flipped head over tails and the person standing across from Makayla caught it in a flash of white, then examined it carefully.

“That’s not all, boss. Guess what else I found?”

A head snapped up to stare at Makayla in great interest, “Tell me.”

“The supposed ‘Heroes of Seattle’ are running the place. All of ‘em. I took out Fetch easily enough. I bet the other two would be just as fun to test my powers on.” Makayla knew she hadn’t seen Delsin there, but if Eugene and Fetch were inside, he must not have been too far away. Besides, a little white lie never hurt anyone.

There was a pause of silence then a soft chuckle sounded from the one with the emblem in hand now, “Good work, Makayla. Go drain up. You’ll need it,” Makayla’s leader spoke quietly and remained beneath the single fluorescent light which cast her in an eerie glow.

“Aye, aye Celia! I left your calling card behind, too. Lemme know when you wanna grab dinner.” Makayla leapt from her spot and she quickly dashed out the door, leaving silence in her wake.

A rabbit mask tilted in thought as plans were forming in the mind behind it. Celia hummed to herself one single name.

“Delsin Rowe…”

[hoperiley]

[imaginesecondson]

Homestuck AU part 2

{ sO yeah, after a billion years, here's part two of the hs au: featuring the alpha session and also celia and augustine cause I didn't add celia in my last post about this au. Note that all of the things about Eugene's mom is headcanon)

Reggie

Seer of Life

Switch Dreamer. Probably leaning more to derse.

Gunkind

His guardian would be be that sessions Delsin, who would be the older brother

Brent

Mage of Hope

Prospit

Fistkind

Fetch would be his guardian in this timeline

Lydia aka Eugene’s mom that’s my name for her :^y)

Seer of Mind

Derse dreamer (through and through)

Penkind

Her guardian would be her dad aka that timelines Eugene

Brooke Augustine

Sylph of Doom

Derse Dreamer.

???kind (I honestly have no idea)

Celia would be her guardian (most likely something like an adoptive mother or smth idk)

BONUS:

Celia

Theif of Space

Prospit Dreamer

Paperkind (yes, that’s an actual thing in the comic)

Augustine is her guardian

[the-inbar]

Hey I just wanted to know how you made your mask for your Celia Penderghast cosplay. I searched for tutorials but did not find any of them as good as yours. Would kindly appreciate any help with this.

Heyoi! First of all, thank you so much! I appreciate it! It was my second cosplay after all, first cosplay to actually make something from scrap, so this is an honor thanks :D

Okay so, I’ll try my best to explain it how I did it: (Excuse my english, i’m not a native speaker)

Ofc its a mask, it had to fit my face-form, so I layed some plastic on my face and made the shape with paper mâché. Just 3 layers of paper. Let it dry, and then I cut it a bit. Then I cut out some eye-holes but glued, on the inside, a thin white sheet. Thin enough so I could see through them (kinda) xD . Theeeen I looked closely at the form of the mask she has, where the folded parts, are and started to cut out some cardboard pieces to match up the face. Glued some white paper sheet on the cardboard pieces as well. Then I glued the pieces of cardboard together and onto the mask I already had (the paper mache one) and then I made a hole on either side of the mask to stick a elastic rope in them. Also, make sure that with every adjustment you make on your mask is a fitting one, so try on the mask everytime you do something with it. And the last thing I did was cut out 2 pieces of cardboard, the ears-form, cover them in white paper sheets also and then I clued and duct taped them onto the mask from behind xD

I hope I helped you with it! I just looked at it a million times and sketched some things I needed plus I collected lots of pics from her.

Hope this helped! Good luck! 

[ataraxiamfrp]

May Time and Space watch over you...

Adrig of Water Dragons

Celia Penderghast

Robin

[screenshow]