#or he could have not had Toga's power remove her clothes to begin with

[problemswithbooks]

With the tentative and rough translations out, i have to say, yeah, Hori really doesn't get what he's actually writing and if he was trying to make Toga's entire deal a metaphor for queerness, he's ended up being quite offensive.

Like first off it seems he has Toga say she falls in love easily with boy and girls and...animals. Which, I always felt the bird thing as a kid could have negative connotations, but wrote it off as 'she was a little kid and this was before her desire for blood was wrapped up in her romantic feelings' type things. So having Hori reinstate that yes, she does still love animals to the point of blood drinking desire--a desire Hori coded as sexual/romantic is not a good look.

It also just makes me question if she could ever own a pet or if she'd end up killing it because she loved it to much and she needed to drink it's blood.

Also getting her perspective on the boy she attacked isn't great either. The translation is rough and basic so it could change, but I don't think there's any translation that could make the situation not read poorly.

In the rough translations she says something along the lines of "I didn't ask to drink his blood because I was afraid he'd hate me and think I was a decent monster."

I could see an alternative translation being "I asked for his blood and he called me a deviant monster, and I sucked his blood."

Again if Hori is trying to make a queer metaphor with Toga, this is a huge issue. Her attacking the boy was always a big problem, but if he didn't bring it up again I think a lot of casual readers would have forgotten it. But now it's front and center again and brings back bad connotations for Toga and a queer reading of her character.

Because again if we read her blood drinking as queerness, and Hori has already coded it in the past as lust while just last chapter confirming that Toga sees it as kissing in the very least we get two equally bad reads.

A) Due to fear of rejection Toga did not ask for consent and decided she'd just make sexual advances toward someone she had a crush regardless.

or B) She got rejected and told no, and then made the sexual advance anyway.

With a queer reading this only becomes worse because it pays into the really negative and even dangerous idea that same sex attracted people will go after anyone regardless of consent or the other persons orientation. It continues to perpetuate the idea that queer people are sexual predators, who target straight people or in the very least do not care about consent, or are unable to control themselves long enough to get it.

But even without a queer reading what Toga did is wrong. It sucks that people don't get her way of showing love, but consent is still needed regardless. You can't just do what you want to someone because you were to afraid to ask them out. You can't just do what you want with someone after they tell you no. Even if the boy had called her a monster that would not make it ok for Toga to, essentially sexually assault him (yes, kissing someone against their will is sexual assault, which is what Toga sees her blood drinking as).

And I think that's why Toga's character is really hard to get behind for some people--because at the end of the day she's literally just saying "I can't help but sexually assault people (and animals apparently)', and the solution to this is to give her exactly what she wants and apologize for not seeing how much pain she was in when she was actively trying to sexually assault people.

[bcbdrums]

What Happens In Vegas

A/N: A silly little gift fic for split-n-splice, partially inspired by this amazing art and also inspired by my imaginings of things she's teased are to come in her outstanding fanfiction, The Company You Keep.

Do view her art, do read her fic... Laugh at my nonsense if you so choose.

Read on:  FFn     AO3

Mature rated fic, you have been warned.

-----------------------

Drakken was lying on his back when he woke up to a severe throbbing at the front of his skull. As he opened his eyes to a powerful light, the pain spread like claws out across the rest of his head, and after covering his face with both forearms to block out the blinding brilliance, he realized its source was a ceiling light.

The next thing he became aware of was a very soft yet definitely solid something under his knees, keeping them elevated. And then a tight pain in his feet.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself upright, and he almost fell again as he wiped the drool from the side of his face.

'What happened...?'

His vision was swimming, and through the fog he saw waves of pale green on either side of his knees, surrounded by white and pale pink. His fingers gripped the fabric of what he realized were bed sheets, and before his vision cleared, as he stared at his bare blue legs and came to the realization that the rest of him was bare too, he suddenly knew just what—or rather, who—the soft green mass beneath him was.

"Shego?" he whispered fearfully.

He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what had happened, as his clearing vision began to reveal a spartan motel room surrounding them, but it seemed...like it was a fair assumption to make.

He shifted and felt the tight pain in his feet again, and his brow furrowed as he looked down and saw a familiar pair of black high heels on his feet that most definitely were not his. As he reached to pull them off with a grimace, a glinting of gold caught his eye and his eyes widened as he thrust his hand up to only inches from his nose, squinting at the metal band on the fourth finger of his left hand.

'How...?'

"Ungh..."

The groan from the figure face down on the bed showed his whisper hadn't been soft enough. But he was glad she was waking up, in hopes she might be able to provide answers, and not the ones his mind was insistent on hammering into his aching skull, now with images. A panicked confusion arrested his mind as he realized the images weren't mere groggy fantasies, but memories.

"Shego?" he said a bit more loudly.

Her hands flew to cover her ears as her body began to twist beneath his legs, and then she held her head as if in pain as another groan escaped her.

"What...? My head..."

She started to push upright and Drakken hurriedly removed his legs from her back. This action seemed to startle her to attention, and she sat bolt upright, eyes wide and blinking around them in confusion and fright.

"What? What hap— Dr. D.?"

He watched as she took in the room in mere moments, his nude form afterward, and then herself. Drakken snatched the only pillow left on the bed to cover himself, and then felt guilty as his eyes strayed lower than her face. It was all coming back to him. And he knew that every possible repercussion from what they had done involved him experiencing pain in some way.

What he hadn't expected, however, was for Shego to burst into tears.

"Sh...Shego?" he asked in confusion and concern as she buried her face in her hands, not even bothering to cover herself. His vision clearing at last, he glanced past her at the small purple pharmacy-type box on the nightstand with its colorful promises, and then at the mess on the floor.

The other pillows were everywhere, along with a blanket, their clothes, numerous empty and still sealed bottles of alcohol, and...a scattering of too many wrappers and used condoms.

Drakken swallowed as more and more images flooded back to his mind and tried desperately to calm his panic. He shifted closer to her and felt the tight pain again, and with a scowl he pulled her high heeled shoes off his feet and pushed them aside.

"Shego..." Drakken said again, this time his voice coming out choked and pained. He realized then his throat was hoarse. "Shego I'm sorry..."

Shego wiped her nose twice with the back of her hands, but her eyes remained closed as her bawling grew louder. Drakken glanced at where they sat and after a moment, tentatively tossed the sheet over her lap for a hint of modesty.

"I don't...I don't remember exactly how it started..." he continued, desperation beginning to take over as she wouldn't even acknowledge him. "I remember we were at the casino, and we were drinking... You ordered us two more shots after I'd said it was enough... But Shego please, please know...if I had thought for one instant you didn't want... That this wasn't... I know we were drunk, but you...you took us to the gift shop, and bought that box... You said you couldn't wait and so we got this room... I know I wasn't thinking straight but...but you wanted..."

Drakken trailed off as he wondered if Shego was even hearing him, her sobs continuing unfettered.

"I...I thought you... I know I was very drunk, but I'm...v-very...positive...that this was all your idea... And Shego it would have never, ever entered my mind to... Had I been sober I would have never dreamed of... Shego? Wh-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Drakken had expected rage, green flames, and a verbal assault at the very least. Not the endless streams of crocodile tears that kept falling down her face. Her hands remained uselessly in her lap as her shoulders shook with sobs, and glancing around, Drakken spotted a tissue box that had just avoiding falling off the nightstand—the lamp hadn't.

He leaned over and grabbed a few, and when he pushed them into her hands it startled her. She blinked down at them, and then up at him, her expression unreadable. Drakken bit his lip then as he cautiously reached over her shoulders and pulled her hair to her front to give her more modesty. Shego looked down at this, sniffled once, and then exploded into further sobs.

The panicked confusion continued to race across Drakken's nerves as he watched her cry, a response like nothing he'd ever seen out of his partner in crime save when under the influence of the Moodulator. And even that hadn't been this bad.

"Shego, I... I..."

Drakken finally hung his head with a heavy sigh. If she was so upset to not even...unleash her fury, he knew it was far too great a crime to forgive.

"I'm sorry, Shego," he said quietly, fidgeting lightly with the edge of the pillowcase. "You can...consider your contract fulfilled, and...you can have anything you want in severance. I... I'm so sorry."

He started to shift away from her, thinking to give her some privacy until she was ready to either unleash her fury or apparently leave him without so much as that. He wasn't prepared for her suddenly seizing his arm, and his breath caught. It was about to happen.

"I can't remember any of it," were the words that came from Shego's lips, choked and thick.

Drakken blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I've been trying..." Shego forced out through sobs, "to get you into bed...for two years... And it finally happened—"

Her eyes opened at last and glanced sideways into the room.

"Several times..."

Drakken followed her gaze and he bit his cheek in nervous confusion as he looked at the used condoms.

"And I can't remember any of it!"

Drakken relaxed, shifting nearer to her as she continued to cry, albeit less loudly, finally making use of the tissues he had offered. Once they were spent he hurriedly placed the box in front of her, and she took out another.

"Wait, Shego, you...you...wanted...to get me into bed?" Drakken finally asked, shaking his head in confusion—which he regretted instantly for the hangover.

"Mr. Can't Read Signals when they're literally right in front of his face," Shego grumbled.

"What signals?" he asked, still reeling from the idea that Shego was actually interested.

"All the flirting," Shego said plainly, her tears beginning to still.

"What flirting...?"

Shego looked up and narrowed her reddened eyes on him. "Are you really that dense?"

"Shego, what flirting!?" Drakken said, racking his brain for any time outside of her absurd behavior while under the influence of the Moodulator, either before or after given the time frame she indicated, that could have been considered flirting.

Shego scoffed. "You mean you didn't notice me leaning up into your space, getting so close I could blow on your ear, or putting my chest right at your eye level while you worked?"

Drakken had a flash of memory of times when Shego would suddenly be in front of him, blocking his view of what he was working on, or leaning between him and his tools, or whispering about nothing so close to him that he couldn't concentrate.

He blinked at her several times in succession as he realized...she was serious.

"...What?" Shego said, wiping her nose again and then hugging herself.

"I thought you were trying to annoy me," Drakken said.

"...What!?"

"I didn't know you were flirting! It...didn't come across that way," Drakken said, trailing off at the end as he saw the flashing of green eyes across from him.

Shego screamed. She threw her hands up in the air for a moment and then let them fall at her sides, seemingly finally spent of tears as she blinked at nothing on the bed sheets.

"Shego...why?" Drakken asked.

Shego began gathering the sheet up around herself to wear as a toga.

"Well if it isn't obvious now, blue bonehead, I have a major crush on you. But since the feeling isn't mutual I guess I'll just stop making a fool of myself and—"

Drakken's hand on her arm halted her words at the same time a gasped 'no' left his lips.

"Let me go!"

"Shego."

"This is humiliating enough," she said, struggling against his grip.

"Shego. Look at what happened."

Drakken gestured broadly to the mess of the room, and Shego followed his gaze. She blinked several times as she took in what to him was a very embarrassing scene, the room looking as if it had been trashed by a group of rowdy party-goers and not just defiled by a drunken couple in lust. Or...could it be more?

"Wh-What on earth made you think it wasn't mutual?" Drakken continued, his voice a mixture of nervous, embarrassed, and annoyed. "I've spent four years trying to hide my feelings for you."

"What?" Shego asked, her eyes snapping back to his.

Drakken looked down. "Yes, well... It wouldn't be appropriate, a boss and an employee..."

"Four years?" she said incredulously.

"Sorry," Drakken said, keeping his eyes on his slightly swollen feet.

It was quiet. And then, "Hmmm..."

Drakken looked up at Shego's thoughtful, almost playful tone.

"What?"

"Wouldn't be appropriate, you say?" Her tell-tale smirk was starting to return.

"No..." Drakken said, finding his mouth suddenly dry.

Shego grinned. "I quit."

"What!?"

"How many rubbers came in that box?"

Drakken blinked rapidly, his mind processing her intent so fast that he'd pounced on the purple box on the nightstand and was yanking its contents out onto the bed before he could realize he'd nearly knocked her down in the process.

"There's three left," he said, peering into the empty box as if more would somehow materialize at his will.

"Then put some clothes on and go buy some more," Shego said decisively.

"What, why?" Drakken asked in annoyance.

"Well I count nine all over this room," Shego said. Drakken's face flushed. "Since I can't remember any of that, we're going to have to make up for it all before we leave."

Shego scooped up Drakken's boxers from the floor by the bedside and tossed them at him.

Drakken grinned as he shimmied into them. As he did so, the light glinted off the gold of his ring, and he glanced over at Shego as she began tossing more of his clothes at him. A matching band adorned her slimmer finger. Drakken looked around, and for the first time he noticed the half-folded piece of paper stuck out of the drawer of the nightstand. His brow twisted with nerves but it couldn't stop his smile growing.

"I guess...this is a good time to point out we got married?" Drakken said.

[pocketramblr]

eject, 1/5

“Overhaul, the League is going to be here soon.” Hari reminds his boss even as he carries Eri into the work lab and sets her on the chairs. He’d disagree with the other man, but still obey him. He was one of the only two who could ask Kai to reconsider an action, if only indirectly.

There wasn’t time to really start a session today. Not if Kai wanted to get anything done with Eri, or if he didn’t want to be late to the meeting.

But if he wanted to make the villains wait, no one would blame him. Not after the disastrous first encounter with them.

After Kai had agreed to go with Twice, followed of course by Hari, Mimic, and the Nine Expendables in secret, they’d ended up in a damp, dusty warehouse that wasn’t suitable for a bunch of truant graffiti artists to stash pot at, let alone the nation’s top terrorist organization to hide in.

But his boss had always been someone who had been able to make something useful and powerful from anything, and Hari was sure this would be no different.

Even as he hid in his crow’s nest and watched through his scope as Shigaraki made a fool of himself and one of his members lunged forwards with a large metal stick.

The cost for touching Kai was high, and finally brought some satisfaction to Hari.

The League shrieked and howled at the sight of a member after being Overhauled, and the ignorant girl who’d asked about the Yakuza from the start was up in a flash, knives glinting and teeth bared as she cried out for her big sister.

Something about that was almost familiar, from someone who’d been raised to consider his fellow criminals his brothers.

Though, more familiarity came from the way his heart raced at the sign of a threat.

While the girl would be easy enough for Kai to stop with a touch, a launched knife thrown at point blank range would be harder to stop with his quirk.

So Hari acted instead, aiming and shooting and hitting the girl in the shoulder before he could go from one blink to the next.

The injector bullet went into her skin, and she flinched back, holding to her weapon as she tucked into a fish roll to get back from Kai and the shooter- and the thing that had just emerged from the side of her arm.

“NO, BIG-SIS MAGNE!” Twice screamed before asking in a different tone, “How the hell, did he clone Toga-chan, does he have a quirk like mine?”

The so called clone- actually a quirk phantom- stood and looked around with wide eyes.

It did look a lot like Toga- same clothes, same stature, same everything.

“Woah.” It said, looking at the kitchen knife and metal straw it held in either hand. “This is new.”

“What.” Shigaraki said, seemingly as torn as Twice was between the two main issues at hand, even if it was far below the surface of his scratchy voice and his hand-covered face.

The quirk phantom looked to him as he spoke, then followed his gaze back to the fallen comrade. “Oh! Oh, Magnetism…”

It moved and knelt by what was left of the woman’s body, then placed the straw in its mouth and began to suck, while its free hand moved the knife to her thigh and carved a shaky cut. Good placement, for all it needed to be deeper and faster to get more blood out without needing a straw.

Twice shrieked.

“What are you doing, Fake Crazy?” Tomura demanded. “Where did that even- what’s your quirk?” He looked at Kai, then upwards. “Or perhaps I should ask what the quirk of the guy who just shot her is.”

“Not our quirks.” Kai shook his head. “That’s hers. I’ve just removed it from her body. I wouldn’t recommend she drink any blood before they merge back together. Besides being disgusting in every way, she might not be able digest it like she normally does without that filthy quirk of hers in her body.”

The quirk paused in slurping blood to turn it’s head slightly, glaring at Kai.

Hari tensed, preparing to switch guns. The phantoms didn’t seem all there, but there was something solid in them, and it’d give Kai time at least if it attacked.

“Why are you- that’s big sis.” Toga stared at the phantom as if seeing for the first time how wrong it all was.

The phantom looked back at her, then sighed. “Hime-chan, this is the last of her. If we don’t take this now, we’ll never get to see her again. Do you have any vials?”

Toga slowly nodded and moved to collect the blood.

The League all was focused on watching the girl and her quirk pick over the corpse- all but Shigaraki, who looked between the phantom to Kai.

“Removed from her body.” He repeated, sounding interested. “I see. Well, get out of here. I’ll call you with my answer.”

“See that you do.” Kai always had to have the last word as he pulled a business card out of his pocket and dropped it, then spun on his heal to leave.

Hari had waited until he was out of the building before he got out of his crow’s nest.

Shigaraki had eventually called the Hassaikai as he said he would- interrupting another session with Eri, actually- and decided to send some allies to join them as phase one.

Now, they were due to meet them in ten minutes, but Kai had still called Hari to bring Eri to the lab at the usual time.

“Yes.” Kai moved to another cabinet. “But we’ve only managed to perfect three permanent bullets. Each requires a week of work, and I’m not going to be delayed further by Shigaraki’s forces.” He removed a white injector- shaped not unlike an epipen.

He flipped the cap up, then jammed the needle into his forearm.

Hari’s mouth dropped open behind his mask.

A shadow shifted behind Kai, changing shape and color until another stood next to him- this Kai looked younger, like he had in his late teenage years. He wore lab clothes, his white button up shirt rolled to his elbows, an apron over him, and a simple facemask rather than a bird themed one.

He had no gloves on.

It was so interesting, how different people’s quirk phantoms sometimes looked like them, sometimes looked different. Hari, personally, thought it had something to do with how a person perceived their quirk. How important it was to them. Hence, Rappa- and that Toga villain- were nearly identical to the phantom. A slave to their quirk. It was comforting in some way, to see that Kai wasn’t.

Not that he’d ever dare vocalize that, but still. It helped him relax as Kai looked over the phantom. This dream his oldest friend had was one he didn’t think would get this far, but now he knew it wasn’t merely because an itch pushed Kai to break down and build up whatever was close to him.

No, this plan was all Kai’s.

And knowing that made it easier for Hari to believe in it.

Kai looked over his phantom, gold eyes harsh, then nodded.

“Good. Today we need to take the stabilizing samples from-“

“I know what we need to do.” Overhaul cut Kai off. “I have done it before after all. With you.”

Blinking, Kai seemed like he didn’t know how to react to that. Hari had been a bit taken aback too, no one talked to the boss like that, but it was almost nostalgic too, coming from what looked like a younger Kai’s lips.

“I will need to test overhauling a few things first, this form is different.” He- It, Hari reminded himself, it- looked at its bare hands.

Kai slowly nodded. “Of course. Chrono will assist you when you begin, I’ll go meet with the League.”

The phantom, which had been picking up small pieces of equipment and overhauling them out off and into shape, looked up sharply at that.

“You’re meeting with the League. Without me.”

“Yes, we just said-“

“Without me. You’re quirkless, right now.” Overhaul’s voice was not confined to sounding young, apparently, as he looked at Kai like he was dense. “And you’re going in alone, after you killed one of their members.”

Kai was quiet for a moment, for two, for three. Hari felt the danger build, and swallowed.

Then Kai nodded. “Ok, I’ll take Chrono. Ask Saito or Yamada as assistants when you get to the post-settlement stage.”

With that, he left, and Hari, as ever, followed him.

As the door shut behind them, Kai spoke again. “Chrono. Under no circumstance are you to shoot Toga with the eraser bullet again. I do not want to deal with two of that filth running around my home.”

“Of course, Boss. And if Twice decides to just do that on his own?”

“Then keep Twice from using his quirk.”

“Yes, Boss.”

[alexthegamingboy]

Toonami Weekly Recap 02/01/2020

Sword Art Online: Alicization: War of Underworld EP#27 (03) - The Final Load Test: With GlowGen Defense Systems now in control of the main control room, they find that the computer system is locked down tight and that forcing their way into the sub control room or the lightcube cluster is not a viable option. Commander Gabriel Miller flashes back to his login session in GGO where his team battled against Kirito. Gabriel logs out of his session to find himself back at his office at Glowgen Defense Systems, where he serves as CTO. He accepts an assignment from the US government to seize the STL and the lightcube cluster. Back in the present, Gabriel discovers the existence of the final load test getting ready to commence, which will eliminate the border between the Human and Dark territories to test the humans. In order to accomplish his mission of locating Alice, he decides to log in as the Dark Emperor Vecta, with his lieutenant, Vassago, logging in as a dark knight. Meanwhile, Asuna decides to log in to the Underworld in an attempt to save Kirito and escort Alice out of the Underworld. Back in Tokyo, Sinon wakes up from a dream of her experience in GGO 4. The competition was left down to two people, her and Subtilizer (Gabriel), where Subitilizer easily takes her out with his bare hands, leaving her with the message "Your soul will be so sweet" and choking her to death.

My Hero Academia Shie Hassaikai Arc Season 4 EP#74 (11) - Lemillion: While Toga and Twice were previously subjected to Shin Nemoto's Confession Quirk so the Shie Hassaikai can make sure Tomura will not betray them, the two backstab the yakuza on their own accord by first taunting Irinaka into exposing himself so the heroes can capture him. Meanwhile, Mirio manages to rescue Eri after fighting his way through Nemoto and his fellow Eight Expendable member Deidoro Sakaki. Overhaul then admits that Eri is not his daughter as he has Nemoto fire one of the completed Quirk-Destroying bullets at the girl to force Mirio to take the hit, losing his Quirk as consequence. But as Mirio refuses to back down, Izuku arrives.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind EP#12 - The Second Mission from the Boss: Giorno, Fugo, and Abbacchio arrive in Pompeii seeking the key. They come across a strange mirror and Fugo is suddenly dragged into a mirror world by Hitman Team member Illuso and his Stand, Man in the Mirror. Fugo summons his Stand, Purple Haze, but it appears in the real world with Giorno and Abbacchio instead of the mirror world where he is trapped. A flashback explains how Fugo's pent-up rage led to a violent incident that led him to be disowned by his family and for him to eventually join Bucciarati's group. As Purple Haze begins to emit a deadly virus from its fists, Fugo has it smash the mirror as a message for Giorno; Giorno remains determined to save Fugo, despite Abbacchio's command that they find the key and flee.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba EP#14 - The House with the Wisteria Family Crest: Tanjiro punches Inosuke so hard he cracks his ribs, sending him sprawling. He tells him Zenitsu won't fight because they're both Demon Corps members and they're not supposed to draw their swords on each other. Inosuke takes that to mean it's alright if they fight bare-handed and proceeds to charge Tanjiro, who promises that's not what he meant. The two fight and when Inosuke dosn't stop, Tanjiro head-butts him, which makes Inosuke's boar mask fall off, revealing a very human, though beautiful and girly face. Inosuke collapses from a concussion, though Tanjiro is fine. When Inosuke later wakes up he sees Tanjiro and the others burying the bodies of the humans who were killed. Inosuke doesn't see the point in it and challenges Tanjiro to a fight. Tanjiro thinks Inosuke won't help with the burial because his wounds hurt him too much, so Inosuke goes to bury corpses, stating he can do more than them. Soon all the bodies are buried. A Kasugai crow appears and tells the group to descend from the mountain and follow him, which they do. The crow spits up a charm to ward off demons for Kiyoshi so he won't be attacked again and the siblings part ways from the Demon Hunters. The three are led to a manor with a wisteria crest and the crow tells them they're to rest inside until their wounds are recovered. The house belonged to a family once rescued by demon hunters, so they tend to demon hunters for free. An old lady gives them food and a change of clothes. Inosuke keeps trying to rile Tanjiro to fight him but he's too relaxed to rise to the bait. A doctor tends their wounds (all three have broken ribs). After they settle for the night, Inosuke tells them he joined the Demon Corps after beating up a Demon Slayer who came to his mountain and hearing about demons and Final Selection, thinking it sounded interesting. Zenitsu then asks why Tanjiro is traveling with a demon. Nezuko scratches at the box, hearing they're talking about her, freaking out Zenitsu. She comes out and Zenitsu is smitten by her beauty. He then thinks Tanjiro was carrying her around because she was pretty, joining the Demon Slayers to have a cute demon girl. He chases Tanjiro around the room, declaring he must be purged. Inosuke states it's too much thinking and falls asleep.

Dr. Stone Communications Arc EP#21 - Spartan Crafts Club: Using the new waterwheel, Senku mechanizes the ironmaking process, freeing up the villagers to prepare for winter. Meanwhile, Senku, Chrome, and Kaseki begin developing light bulbs, allowing them to celebrate Christmas by decorating a tree. Chrome uses the new invention to explore deeper in caves, where he finds a host of new minerals. Senku and Kaseki attempt to create a vacuum tube, but they cannot find a filament that can withstand the heat. During a New Year's sunrise, Senku receives inspiration from Suika and realizes tungsten is the solution and employs himself, Chrome, and Magma on a spelunking expedition.

Fire Force Netherworld Arc EP#24 Finale - The Burning Past: Shinra duels with Commander Burns, who's explosive pyrokinetic ability initially overwhelms Shinra. However, Shinra eventually lands a blow on the commander's forearm, satisfying Burns that Shinra has sufficient resolve to hear the truth of his past. Burns reveals that the Evangelist was active 12 years earlier and knew that the Kusakabe brothers possessed Adolla Burst abilities. When the Evangelist sent Haumea to collect Sho, the child's power revealed itself which it started the fire. As the house went up in flames, Shinra's mother became the horned Infernal which Shinra always believed was the demon that started the fire. When Burns arrived at the scene, his team saved Shinra, but the boy's demonized mother took Sho and delivered him to the Evangelist. Burns realized the Adolla Link had been awakened, but kept the truth from young Shinra and told him his family was dead. Burns lost his right eye looking upon the Evangelist, but gained the use of the Adolla Link, and reveals that Shinra's demonized mother may still be alive within the Link. Later, Shinra arranges to meet Captain Soichiro Hague of Company 4, hoping that his connection to the Adolla Link could be used to turn Shinra's Infernalized mother back into a human. A few weeks later, Shinra is discharged from Company 6 and is welcomed home with a party organized by Company 8, including Hibana, Benimaru, Konro, and Karim.

Food Wars!: The Second Plate Totsuki Autumn Election Arc EP#27 - The Age of Kings: Despite a close battle, Kurokiba is declared the winner, though Megumi is still praised for her efforts. The next day, as Hayama and Hisako face off in a hamburger duel, Soma meets the eighth contestant, Subaru Mimasaka, who joins him, Megumi, and Takumi in watching the battle. Hisako presents her dish, a soft-shelled turtle burger, but is defeated by Hayama's kebab burger, which takes advantage of the burger's pickle aspect to enhance the flavor. Prior to the fourth match, Mimasaka provokes Takumi by insulting his brother, turning their match against each other into a Shokugeki.

Black Clover: Elf Tribe Reincarnation Arc EP#103 - Release from Misfortune: The new sword proves to be far more powerful than Asta's other swords as it removes the poison from everybody and Father Orsi recovers. Asta decides to use the sword to turn the possessed knights back to normal. The elf attacking the village, disgusted by all the humans, tries to unleash all his magic at once. Yuno senses the elf's soul is in great pain and Asta thinks the elf must be asking for help. To prevent the elf turning into something even more monstrous Asta strikes him in the chest. The new sword proves powerful enough to negate the entire reincarnation spell, returning him to a normal human. The Clover King, who has been asleep with his mistresses the entire time, is awoken and becomes terrified after learning the kingdom is under attack by its own magic knights and squad captains. Asta and Yuno tell Farther Orsi and the others everything they know about the elves while Digit, the no longer possessed knight, reveals the elf possessing him had no desire to fight. Asta decides they must save both their human friends and the elves and take Digit with them. The floating dungeon passes over Magna and Vanessa and the possessed Luck decides to attack a nearby village. Yuno senses this and they decide to split up to both follow the dungeon and stop Luck, though they argue about which of them should take Digit with them.

[danwhobrowses]

Tinfoil Discussions: My Hero Academia - The UA Traitor

I guess I’m late for the height of this debate, but I might as well throw my hat in. I will begin with this though; I’m not caught up with the anime or manga. I am waiting for Season 4 to finish up so I can binge it, so everything I say below is from memory of seasons 1-3 (which I had really enjoyed having binged for 3 days, they really do the ‘punch the air in victory’ moments well), so some of it might be wrong through hindsight I don’t currently have (and please don’t let me know, I’ve done my best to limit the spoiler content as much as youtube keeps suggesting me thumbnails of s4 moments and manga chapters)

So for anyone farther back than I am, spoilers for Seasons 1-3 and general speculation below

There is a Traitor Among Us Said by Present Mic after Bakugo was taken in the Forest of Beasts, it became all to apparent that someone had been leaking information to the League of Villains. The idea of a traitor is an uncomfortable one, since it means that someone in the loveable cast is not genuine and what’s more is perfectly willing to allow heroes and students alike to die in order to simply get at All-Might. Now, I don’t think I know who the traitor is, but I do have theories and options. Suspecting the Students The students are the first to be suspected because they’re the new blood, all this has happened from the start of the semester and the young are influenced easier. With kids having constant access to their phones there is an easier possibility for a leak, and the traitor could be the following people Hagakure - Perhaps the one everyone seems to be looking to, it is quite easy to point the finger at the Invisible Girl. Hagakure is an expert in stealth and her personality is bubbly enough to be seen as a facade, being unable to keep track of her is the main reason people could suspect her. However, I really don’t like this option; it’s too easy you know? And you’d have to pull out a hell of a lot to explain multiple things. For instance, Hagakure can’t make objects invisible as shown by her clothes, where would she keep a phone? At USJ they were in their Hero outfits and if I remember rightly the Forest of Beasts had no phone signal, it’s possible that there’s like a tracker under her skin (a decent way to have the league bug the class but also have her be a victim) but even then that’s just location. Another qualm would be bastardizing her friendship with Ojiro and the people who actually see her (despite being invisible), if she wanted intel surely she’d get closer to the people of interest to the league, there’s also her desire to stand out, a spy would not be so flagrant about standing out. It could just be that I don’t want to suspect any of the Class 1-A students, but it does seem too obvious to make Hagakure the traitor. Monoma - on the other side of the coin there’s Monoma, who I really dislike. Mr ‘Ohmygoshclass1Ahasflawstoo’ is someone very obsessive over hierarchy, the line of superior and inferior. You also can’t deny that he has been trying to sow seeds of disarray by putting 1-A and 1-B against one another. Like Tobi in Naruto, it serves well to be wary of joke characters, and let’s not forget that Monoma has a dangerous quirk. His copying may not switch by touch, or deplete over 5 minutes without use, it could be that the ability disappears after 5 minutes of full use (or it’s just a flat out lie). His quirk is the worrisome thing, remember how he first met Midoriya? He intentionally bumped into him, if he’s able to copy One for All that could be extremely dangerous for the villain’s side right? Monoma being the traitor does require a bit of stretching though. it rides a lot on 1-B having been to USJ before 1-A (which is possible since Midoriya would have to recover from his broken arm on the combat training) and someone letting slip where the Forest was (since 1-B got there after 1-A, giving him opportunity to contact the league), he also got the information that 1-A would be at a different stadium for the license exams, allowing Toga to get some blood and pose as Camie for 3 days. He’s also someone who has had direct interaction with Bakugo and seen firsthand his potential, but he was also safe and sound in the Forest’s extra-curricular base (where Dabi just happened to know where Aizawa, Vlad and other students were). Monoma may be overboard, but it could just be his villainy seeping out, we cannot forget that Monoma is a formidable strategist as shown in the Calvary Battle. Mirio Togota - put down those pitchforks! I will immediately say that this is highly unlikely. But Buff Tintin just seems off to me, nobody can deny his strength or the refinement of his quirk but again it’s silliness as a front. He uses nudity as a distraction tool but we’ve seen him effortlessly use his quirk to stick his face out to Midoriya. Togota knows little about 1-A so that adds to his unlikelihood, but being closest to Number 1 and then to see All Might take on the first years? That could sting, and his quirk does allow him a strong capability for infiltration, all he has to do is poke an ear out somewhere hidden or phase through a locked room to look at documents. I heavily doubt this is where we’re going with him, but he is an option nonetheless. Suspecting the teachers While it’s difficult to accuse the students, the teachers are easier to accuse but harder to prove. Every teacher knows that All Might is weakening, but every teacher also knows about USJ and the Beast Forest’s location, so they have access to betray, it all then comes down to motive. Nezu - the principal is the heavy long shot, we know he has his manic times but it’s a matter of whether he would subject his fellow heroes and students to death. It’s a shallow motive that I don’t see, but you have to suspect the guy with all the information, especially now that he managed to put the students immediately under the eye of Big Brother. Ectoplasm - The man who can clone himself is definitely someone who can wander off. I remember them saying that he was able to clone himself more while drunk at karaoke, but is that simply a hint that Ectoplasm has at least 2 clones he never accounts for hero work? Judging by the peg leg he is certainly experienced, and I’m sure he ranks high on the ‘Heroes that look most like Villains’ list that Gang Orca is on (Endeavor’s Number 1 right? Has to be, only thing he would earn the Number 1 spot for besides World’s Worst Dad XD). Ectoplasm’s clones allow him to easily spy, steal and have an alibi all at once, his interaction with the students and knowledge of the class protocol do mean that he has the sufficient knowledge to leak to the league. Snipe - Snipe out of the teachers would be my likely pick, Gas Mask McCree here could’ve easily tapped Shigaraki with his quirk, but he went for the arm and leg even though he was going straight for Midoriya and All Might. The fact that he always wears a mask does open the door for him being a replacement as well, All for One having stolen his quirk and bestowed it unto a spy or simply that Snipe isn’t all that good. He was the first to quickly turn the finger pointing to Present Mic when he brought up traitor talk. Like the other two teachers, he’s able to access information without getting involved in the league’s matters, but it has to be really suspicious that he could headshot grunts at USJ but shot Shigaraki in spots he could survive in. Suspecting an outsider Just because there is a traitor leaking UA info, doesn’t mean that they have to be in UA, parents must have forms to permit their kids to go out in these things, and people can sneak into the premises in different ways. Currently though there is only one outsider I can suspect Endeavor - I can’t have been alone when the moment I saw Endeavor I thought ‘that guy’s a villain’. Since Season 3 I don’t believe he’s in league with the villains so much, his reaction to being Number 1 does slightly protect him from accusation, but not entirely. While he may be the Number 2 Hero, Endeavor is a horrible person, using money and influence to get what he wants and what he wants is to be treated as better than All Might, this coincides with the league’s goal to remove All Might as the Number 1 Hero and Symbol of Peace. Motivation for treachery would obviously be jealousy, and he’s only angry about the One for All incident because All Might still triumphed, so his ultimate victory is actually tainted, he didn’t want to win ‘this way’. The matter of him getting the info could require more traitors within UA, but someone of Endeavor’s status definitely has the funds to bribe or the influence to have access to security cameras, under the guise of a ‘parent keeping an eye on his child experiment’ (after all, wouldn’t want him to go like that other child with fire powers, Endeavor’s blue eyes and who’s obviously one of his previous failed experiments). Power and Influence allows people to get more things and being a UA alumnus also has small benefits to elbow in some spying. We were never told that Todoroki was on the list, but Endeavor would surely want to write Bakugo - the guy who beat his son at the Sports Festival - out of the way, even at USJ putting him in an area where his son could easily handle himself while Nomu ‘dealt’ with All Might. Suspecting someone new While the idea of a traitor means that you have to look at the characters you know, this could also be a red herring. One of UA’s current strengths has been the ability to trust one another in their ability, be it between classes or schools in the license exams. So to sow distrust means they break the foundations of the future. I believe that the endgame of the manga isn’t just having a ‘Number One Hero’ but a group of heroes who can all dispatch and work well together, it does look like that’s how we’re building with Midoriya, Todoroki and Bakugo getting some diverse team ups with the rest of their class. If that is the case, then this is the moment where the unity has to be reinforced, which’d mean identifying that a villain is causing this traitor talk. Besides, 3 people calling themselves a ‘league’ is rather underwhelming, most of their influence came post-Stain so maybe there have been people we’ve yet to see. A Mind Reader - We’ve had telepathy in Mandalay (low suspicion on her, since she knows nothing about USJ) going outwards but she was unable to actually read minds, we also have a brainwasher in Shinso. So right in the middle would be someone who can read people’s thoughts, a mind reader easily has access to read the thoughts of teachers to relay back to the league. A Bug - we know that there are animal-kind quirks (oh yeah Koda’s quirk could be treacherous, but he’s too wimpy for me to suspect him) in Tsu, Pony, that OVA Lizard girl, Tokoyami, Spinner, Selkie and Gang Orca, so what if there was a villain with a quirk of an insect. We had a small nod to insects in the exam Kyoka and Koda had, showing how they could sneak into other places - or people in Present Mic’s case. If there was someone with an insect quirk they could literally be a Fly on the Wall. A Body Swapper - I mentioned earlier that Snipe could have his body swapped because he’s hidden under the mask, but we could go deeper. Citing Naruto’s Yamanaka Clan jutsu, DBZ’s Ginyu or DC Comics’ Jericho, there could be someone with the quirk to basically take over someone’s body for a short while. This could be a way to have characters be unknowing leaks. Like how a mind reader goes between Mandalay and Shinso’s quirks, a body swapper would sit between Shinso and Toga’s quirks so it’s not entirely out there for a quirk like that to exist, let alone for nobody to notice that quirk exists because they don’t ever recall their body being taken over. Conclusion So yeah, those are my list of suspects. As stated before I’d rather it not be a 1-A student, the art of these things is to use it as a twist and if you can immediately guess the twist then it’s not a good twist. Granted I’m sure delivery can better a obvious twist, such as when we finally get told that Dabi is related to the Todoroki family or when Stain gets released and fights alongside Midoriya but in terms of the UA Traitor - a lingering plot line that has spread through half the series - you need a big drop to validate the wait. Personally I would like the traitor to either be a teacher, Endeavor or someone we’ve not seen before that builds to a big bad. Regardless it’ll probably be years before I find out, much shorter for Manga readers, but when it does happen I hope the reveal is satisfying.

[g-on-ef]

A Dangerous Mind

Kinktober 3: Edge play || Bakumomo

A/N: Another dark one ^^;

Momo stared at the man who once held her heart, the man who vowed to become a strong hero and surpass All Might in shock and in fear.

In the end, he was nothing more than a snake. Hiding his true intentions from the beginning and only revealing them when she, Izuku, Shouto, Iida, and Kirishima came to ‘rescue’ him from the villains.

It turned out that he, Shouto, and Izuku were part of the League of Villains all along and stealing Bakugou was just part of a plan to bring as many students from class 1-A so that they could show the heroes that no matter how hard they try they couldn’t protect their students.

It broke her heart when she watched Bakugou and Izuku take Iida down while Shouto froze Kirishima in ice.

When the man in the mask put both Iida and Kirishima in his little marbles he turned to Momo and asked what they should do with her.

Momo was paralyze with fear, she could hear herself yell at her to get her body to move, to activate her quirk to do something but the fear she was feeling was all stronger than her desire to defend herself as she felt her body shaking.

“Nothing,” Bakugou’s voice, despite knowing what he really was still had the effect to calm her down.

“You’re joking right? We should go ahead and kill her,” Toga said pulling out a knife. Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki glared at the blond while Tomura stared at the girl or better yet at his cousin.

He’s kept an eye on her since the Master told him that his grandmother had two children and were separated when the little sister-his aunt-was adopted by a rich family.

She had a strong quirk, came from a rich family that loved her, and was dating one of his own.

While a part of him did want to kill her because she looked so much like his grandmother another part wanted her to live, only because she was the only living relative he had left.

Plus, if she died at their hands Bakugou and Todoroki would go off the rails and Dabi would do anything to protect his little brother and Midoriya would kill anyone who laid a hand on his precious ice prince’s hair and of course Twice and Spinner would side with Dabi since the three for some strange reason became good friends.

Taking a deep breath Tomura walked up to the girl who was trying to make herself appear small.

“Momo Yaoyorozu,”

Charcoal grey eyes stared into crimson blood ones.

“Bakugou,”

The blond stood at attention and Shigiraki could see the boy was waiting to see if he was going to attack or obey an order, either way he was not going to let any harm come to Momo.

“Take her to your room, the heroes will be here any second and we need to be prepared for any surprise attacks,”

Momo could see Bakugou’s shoulders relaxing and his eyes filled with relief as he walked over to her, grabbing her hand he pulled her to the back door.

The trip to his room was one filled with silence, Momo had to do something, anything to get away from these people and warn the heroes, she also had to figure a way to get her friends from that man.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t realized they were in Bakugou’s room, or that Bakugou was already undressing her and handcuffing her hands.

She only became aware of her surroundings when Katsuki slapped her ass.

The poor girl let out a small shriek and saw that they were in his room. She felt a light breeze on her body, looking down she saw that she was stripped of all her clothing.

Embarrassed Momo tried to cover herself but saw that Katsuki chained her to the floor.

“Kat…Katsuki what the hell?”

Bakugou stared at his beautiful girlfriend naked as the day she was born, chained to the floor. Walking up to her he caressed her cheek.

“I heard that a Nomu hurt you, I’m glad to see that you are alright,”

Momo felt her heart being filled with love knowing that Bakugou was worried for her made her broken heart repair itself and beat with joy.

She quickly ignored these feelings and turned her face away from his touch despite her heart begging her to let him hold her.

Katsuki didn’t even look surprise if anything he was sure that her reaction was going to be either anger or disappointment. Still it was good to see that she was okay.

Still, it’s been three days and Bakugou misses his princess.

“Kneel,”

“What?”

“Did I fucking stuttered? I said kneel,”

Momo’s face became a dark shade of red before she did as she was told, both Momo and Bakugou had a healthy sex life especially when they both admitted that they wanted to explore BDSM a bit and Bakugou being the Dom that he was wanted his pretty little princess to kneel down before him.

He smirked and was proud that his darling was still being her cute submissive self.

He stripped off his clothes and walked up to her.

“Alright Princess we are gonna do something a little different today,”

Momo looked at him, trying so hard to stop herself from drooling at his God like body.

Bakugou grabbed a remote and turned the TV behind him, Momo lean to the right to see what was on. Her eyes widen in fear as she saw a very beaten Mineta struggling to remain unconscious.

“Wh-what…Katsuki what did you do?!”

Bakugou smirked as he looked into her eyes full of fear and panic while she may have hated Mineta she wouldn’t wish him to suffer at least to the point where he was fighting a battle to remain conscious. He looked at the screen where the grape hair freak was struggling to keep his eyes open. Kidnapping him was easy to do, all he had to do was get one of Twice’s clones to disguise themselves a pretty girl and boom! He and Togoa grabbed him and have been torturing him for the longest time.

“I always hated the perve, always looking at you like you were some piece of meat and trying so hard to feel your body or look at you naked without your knowledge, I don’t even know why the fuck UA gave him a spot in the hero course then again, that school has downgraded a lot since Dabi went there,”

He turned to look at his Beauty’s face and saw how scared she was at the situation.

“Wh-what do you want?”

Bakugou grabbed her chin making her look him in the eyes.

“You my pretty are gonna ride me and make me cum, if you can’t do that in exactly five minutes then well I let my boy Spinner know he can kill the wannabe hero, see he hates pervs more than I do and he will make sure he suffers a slow and painful death.

Tears welled up in her eyes, Bakugou had great self-control and it took her cumming twice before he came.

“Fi-five minutes? Katsuki I don’t think-“

“Three,”

“THREE!”

“Wanna make it two? Keep whining and I’ll kill him right in front of you!”

He was bluffing, no way will he bring that fucktard anywhere near his Princess but if it got her to do what he wanted then…

Momo swallowed her words before Bakugo smiled, knowing he got her right where he wanted her.

“Good girl, now I am going to release you just know the minute you try to use your quirk or tried to fight me off, I’ll let Shigaraki know he can kill Mineta, Iida, and Kirishima got it?”

Momo nodded her head as Bakugou pulled out a key.

“Good girl,” he released her from her chains before walking up to his bed, sitting down he watched as his Princess walked over to him.

Taking a deep breath Momo straddled his lap before grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance, she slowly sink down knowing Bakugou loved entering her at a slow pace, making sure he feels ever inch of her.

Once he was deep inside Momo looked down before kissing him, she grabs Bakugou’s hands and place them on her hips she then wrapped her arms around his neck. She started at a slow pace; moving back and forth, lifting herself so that only the tip remain inside her before she slammed herself back down.

Bakugou was loving the slow pace that Momo was setting but he was getting a little impatient with her.

“Princess,” he pulled away from her lips, Momo looked at him before she grabbed his hands and placed them on her beasts. Bakugou couldn’t help himself and squeeze them, Momo picked up the pace a little, she wasted 1 min. and 30 seconds, which mean she had didn’t have much time left.

Bakugou removed his hands from her breasts and activated his quirk, Momo’s eyes widen as she saw the tiny sparks of his quirk.

“Alright Princess,” he placed his hands near her hips, just close enough that she could feel the heat of his power but just far enough that it won’t burn her skin…yet.

Momo stopped her movements just enough to show him he had her attention.

“You have less than a minute to get me off, and if you don’t well, not only will I kill that disgusting thing but I will also burn your beautiful skin,”

He brought his hand closer to her hips and send a little heat to his hand before he placed it on her.

Mom couldn’t help but let out a small shriek as she glared at Bakugou.

“Well Princess, start fucking,”

Momo glared at him before she shoved on the blond shoulders making him fall back on the bed, he looked shock for a moment before Momo began to ride him hard and fast Bakugou was shocked for a moment before Momo ran her hands through his chest, she then lean down and kissed him bouncing up and down his lap.

She could feel the heat from his hands getting closer and closer to her so she did what would set Katsuki over the edge.

“Katsuki, so good,” she moan and she lifted herself up and swirl her hips making both her and Bakugou moan out loud.

“Ugh, your cock..damnit I love your cock, it feels so good inside me.”

She let out a loud moan as Bakugou began to his her g-spot.

“You know what I want...ugh fuck me hard Bakugou, tear this pussy apart,”

Bakugou growled as he resist the urge to grab her hips so he settled for jamming his cock inside his princess’s tight pussy, while his hands hover over her skin.

She continued to bounce before she lifted herself off of him.

“Oi! get back here,”

Momo just smirked before she lean down and began to gave him a blow job.

“FUCK PRINCESS!” he couldn't help but scream, freeing one of his hands of his quirk he grabbed her head and shoved his entire cock down her throat.

Momo was always good at giving head and if there was anything that made him cum fast was seeing his princess on her knees and him fucking her face.

He watched as his princess began to finger herself damn his little princess really wanted to make him cum.

Bakugou threw his head back and moan watching his Princess pleasure herself while she sucked on his dick was the greatest pleasure he could receive.

He lifted his hips knowing she had excellent gag reflexes Momo’s eyes met his giving him that o so innocent look that he adore.

“FUCK!” he couldn't help but cum into her mouth as he felt her pull away Bakugo groan as his cum covered Momo’s face, some dripped down to her breasts.

“Fuck Princess are you trying to kill me?”

Momo just giggled as she licked her fingers moaning as she tasted herself on her hand before she gave Bakugo a seductive look, the ashy blond smirk as he lean forward and kissed her rough and hard.

Pulling back he stroke her face.

“Looks like I won't blast your perfect skin,”

Momo looked at him before her eyes widen a bit.

“Wait...Mineta-”

“Oh, right,” he grabbed a phone from the table before he type something and hit send.

He then gesture for Momo to come to him and sit on his lap, the young heroine did as she was told and sat down facing the TV where Mineta was tortured.

Bakugou wrapped his arms around her before he lean forward and whispered,”

“I lied,”

He then flipped them over and shoved his cock inside her and began to fuck her hard and fast.

The screams of pleasure coming from Momo drowned out the screams of pain coming from the TV.

[vmheadquarters]

What Goes Around... (Part 27b)

This is PART 27b of a story that is being told in segments by twenty-seven different authors, campfire-style. Each author will take over the story with no prior planning and then pass it on after putting their own spin on it! Expect the unexpected! :)  You can check our vmhq campfire tale tag for all of the previous installments or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Part 27b is written by @cheshirecatstrut.

[Part 27a]

PART TWO--CONCLUSION

DICK

This new tunnel Rubes found, just to switch things up, is artificially lit, fluorescents attached at intervals along the walls. Plaques at every junction read, “NO FIREARMS, NO SMOKING, NO CELL PHONES, NO LAPTOPS, PLEASE WEAR PROTECTIVE GEAR.”  

“Something’s flammable down here.” Ruby pauses to consult the blueprint, points right. “Also secret.”

“Bunch of wine crates were stacked near the spot where you left Sean,” Dick says. “Old ones. I bet these catacombs were used for smuggling once. Toss a match on some two-hundred-years-buried booze, you’d have a big-ass underground bonfire, amirite?”

“Sure, but I don’t think that’s the reason for the signs.” Ruby taps one as they pass. “These mention modern tech, and someone’s keeping every light working.” She glances back at him. “Is it just me, or is your brain reverting to normal?”

“Haven’t smoked up in, like, half an hour,” Dick says. “And I’ve got what you’d call a high tolerance. There’s a roach in my pocket, still, but do you really want me to ignore the warnings?”

“Probably it’s best to hold off.” She stops at a metal door with a plaque that reads PROCESSING ROOM and tests the handle. “We’ll never save America from the Fuchsia Menace if we’re unexpectedly burned alive.”

Removing supplies from her purse, she goes through her straw-air-hammer routine again; the safety door swings open with a clang. Ruby’s eyes widen as she enters. Once Dick sidles through behind her, he totally concurs.

The big round space on the blueprints marks an enormous underground cavern, walled in rock machine-scraped smooth. Higher-tech coffins than the one in the barn fill most of the available floor space—they look like hyper-sleep pods from Alien, windows showing pink soup beneath. Gigantic steel tanks at the cave’s center sprout spiderish sprays of pipes, each attaching to one coffin. Dick wonders how any amount of revenge could be worth lying Matrix-style for DAYS.

“I KNEW IT!” he crows, prompting Ruby to shush him. His voice echoes. “Didn’t I call this scenario, last time we were theorizing? Seriously, I need to patent this weed-- it’s, like, miracle shit, Rub-a-roni.”

“Did you breed and grow the particular strain in your pocket? No? Then you can’t patent it, dummy. Now hush. Something just started beeping over there, and I need to figure out what and why.”

She crosses the room, picking her way carefully between coffins; for lack of anything better to do, Dick follows. When she stops at a screen of scrolling, random-seeming words he looks over her shoulder, shifting his murse back out of the way.

“Is that the names of the pink dudes?” He squints at one line that reads ‘Henson’, and another, “Soloway’. “And if so, what do you think ‘BEGIN DETACHMENT’ means? ‘Cause it seems like some of these coffins are doing it.”

Ruby gasps as, with a loud, clanking hiss, half the tubes uncouple from coffins and begin, slowly, to retract. The list pauses, flashes a ‘DETACHMENT COMPLETE’ message, and begins scrolling again with new names.

“Shit!” she murmurs, and looks up at him with terrified eyes. “Shit, shit, shit, Dick, I think all these zombies are about to wake up! We have to hide; if they find us in here, who KNOWS what they’ll do?”

Dick casts around for a likely nook, but it’s a fucking cave. Notices part of the wall to their left contains an inset desk, and shoves her that direction. “Under there!” he hisses, as several coffin lids creak open. “Quick, we’re out of time!”

“But we’re not hidden!” she whispers back, obliging just the same. He scrambles in after and pulls the rolling chair in front. “They can see us if they look!”

“That Pez guy turned into a moron,” Dick argues, feeling his pocket to make sure the joint’s still there, for after. “Just shut it--I bet you a grand they won’t notice.”

One by one, the coffins’ inhabitants rise, in a flurry of flailing pink limbs and high-pitched shrieks. Hulks of various shapes and sizes, all clad in white t-shirts and briefs, claw and stumble free as if coordination was a casualty of the process. They land on heads and sides, with zero instinct for self-preservation, then bicycle like upended cockroaches until they make it to their feet.

The room fills, rapidly, with milling, squealing pinkness; Ruby clutches Dick in a way that would be gratifying under less gross circumstances. Then, abruptly, a voice booms out across the room. The hulks turn, as one, towards a white movie screen slowly descending from the ceiling.

Sean Friedrich appears in ten-foot Technicolor, wearing a laurel-leaf crown and toga, lit in such a flattering and gilded style Dick’s positive he directed this segment. Raising his arms like that Italian dictator from Call of Duty: World War II, Sean shouts, “Welcome to the Pantheon, demigods!” Then giggles, the way he always does when he’s had a shitload too much coke.

The Hot Pink Funky Bunch cock their heads and screech like a bunch of brain-damaged birds. But at least they quit staggering around, and a few actually try to listen.

“You’ve been selected, after a VERY competitive search, and gifted with powers FAR beyond those of mortal men,” Sean intones, voice getting higher and rapider as if someone’s switched him to fast-forward. “Now it’s time to USE those powers for our common good. And to teach the assholes populating the rest of the world their PLACE!”

Lots of howling punctuates this statement, along with rudimentary words; a few fights break out between Hulks that stumble into each other. “Please form a line,” Sean continues, more prosaically, “and walk through the door beneath the flashing red light to get street clothes. We’ll gather in the auditorium for a speech. Then you’ll be bused to the location specified on your liability waivers, so you can FULFILL YOUR HEROIC DESTINIES!”

More chaos accompanies this statement--the screen retracts into the ceiling as ‘A Film by Sean Friedrich’ flashes across. Then a red safety light, accompanied by a klaxon, begins flashing over a door on the far wall. The Hulks gather to stare, attracted by the noise and color. When the door swings open, they file out, screaming and punching all the way.

In the quiet after the last of them leave, Dick exhales, then checks to make sure he didn’t pee himself again. Ruby peeks out from beneath the desk.

“Come on!” She turns to tug urgently at Dick. “We need to LEAVE, pronto, and call somebody! If those guys are set loose all over the city to wreak havoc, it could become a statewide emergency!”

He shushes her frantically as booted footsteps echo through the room—this guy moves like he’s got a purpose, and more importantly, is wearing shoes. She hears, presses in close, but her silence comes too late. The feet pause, the chair’s jerked aside, and the owner of two denim-clad legs says, “Come out right now, you idiots. Don’t make me shoot.”

Ruby emerges slowly, hands up. Dick follows, wishing for once she’d let him go first. Then sighs with relief when he sees who exactly it IS, holding the gun.

“What the hell?” he demands, shoving their discoverer back a step. “You scared the crap out of me! Don’t you realize this place is dangerous?” Then, as the gun barrel pointed at him doesn’t waver, adds, “Wait, wait, wait…you’re not…IN on the whole zombie thing with these douchebags, are you?”

VERONICA

V pushes aside a branch and peers past it into a clearing; at the center stands a tall, pink individual in rags and Hanes Big Boys, face pressed fervently against a piece of fabric. Birds have fallen silent as the woods reverberate with his moans.

“That’s definitely not Wallace,” Logan observes in her ear, barely a breath of sound. “He’s as tall as me, and his hair is spiky.”

“No,” Veronica muses, “but he seems familiar somehow. Like I met him once but can’t quite remember the name?”

“WHERE YOU GO RONKAAAAA?” the figure wails, turning its face in profile to the sky, and Mac says hesitantly, from behind them, “Listen I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but…isn’t that Piz?”

“Oh shit!” Veronica says, and apparently the Hulk hears THAT. It turns abruptly, face lighting up in a ghoulish-pink too-many-teeth grin.

“RONKAAAAA!” it yells, staggering towards her on twisted, bleeding feet. Extends the piece of fabric and adds, “RONKA YOU MEET MY MOTHERRRRR!”

“Is he holding a woman’s jacket?” Veronica takes an involuntary step back, hand on Logan’s arm. “Why does he have…and what’s the milky smear, that CAN’T be…EW!”

“Maybe he thought it was yours?” Mac suggests, sotto voce, and Veronica shoots her a scandalized look. “So what are our options? We can’t hurt the guy, it’s Stosh Piznarski! You used to do his laundry.”

“As if.” Veronica shifts to evade when Piz lumbers closer. “And he’d better not be hoping I’m willing to wash THAT.”

The creature stops, head cocking, to study Logan, who’s standing very quiet and still, rhythmically flexing his hand. Eyes going wide with belated-recognition rage—confused, possibly, by the donkey shirt—he screams, “LOGAN I KICK ASS YOUUUU!” at the top of his lungs. Then charges.

Pink Piz is fast, far faster than he was as a person; V flinches in reaction, expecting him to take Logan down. But her boyfriend somehow manages a spectacular leap, vaulting over the zombie’s shoulder like an Olympic gold medalist. He lands, crouched and sneering, at the clearing’s center and beckons.

“What was THAT?” Mac demands as Piz shrieks and lowers his head. He does another flailing run, reminding Veronica why she stopped going with him to dance clubs. Logan stands braced until he’s a foot distant—then unexpectedly runs top speed out of the woods. Bellowing, Piz follows.

“Ugh, he’s protecting us by leading that thing away!” Veronica growls, giving chase. Raises her voice to add, “I’m the one with the gun here, dipwad! Will you EVER quit acting suicidally heroic?”

“You can’t shoot, though,” Mac chides, stumbling along behind her. “Because you’d be offing your ex. Remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Veronica shoves branches aside, emerging onto the lawn. “But I’m not letting him murder Logan based on an excess of sentiment, either.”

“Clearly,” Mac says, dry. Moves up beside her as Piz chases Logan in circles like a frustrated pink Elmer Fudd. He makes an actually-successful grab, ripping a flap loose from the donkey shirt, and Logan uses the moment of confusion to punch him in the face.

With a roar, Piz lunges and catches him, lifting him high into the air; pink lips peel back from giant pink teeth as excited zombie squeals fill the air. Veronica cocks the golden pistol and aims, falling into a two-handed stance.

Then a cop car barrels up over the hill, emergency lights flashing, horn honking, and makes straight for the unequal combatants.

Piz tosses Logan aside like he used to toss aside used towels, even when the laundry basket was right there. Screams at the approaching vehicle, “LOGAN GO TO JAIL NOT MEEEEE!” then takes off at a shambling run for the woods. He shouts, “I COME BACK RONKAA!” as he goes.

The car skids and squeals to a halt. V rushes across the yard, uncocking the gun as she goes. “Are you okay?” she asks, landing on her knees beside Logan, visually inspecting him for injuries. “Did he hurt you?”

Logan manages to sit up, flushed and sweaty, shakes his head like words are a bridge too far. Grabs the flap that used to be his shirt sleeve, and uses it to wipe his face. “Just chill for a minute,” V says, brushing back his hair. “We should head up to the house and get you some water.”

The cruiser’s driver door opens, and Veronica does a double-take as Weevil climbs out, definitely the worse for wear. “Forget Echolls, he’s just winded,” Weevil calls, voice muted by distance. “Fennel here is in way worse shape. I hope you’ve got the antidote ON you.”

“Oh thank God,” Veronica says, as Logan fumbles in his pocket for the vial of green liquid. “We came back and everyone had disappeared. We thought something terrible happened.”

“Your yuppie ex rampaged all over the house chasing Casablancas in a wig.” Weevil beckons her impatiently closer and opens the rear door. “We escaped through the catacombs, then I TRIED to drive this guy to the CDC.”

“The WHAT-acombs?” Veronica kneels on the floorboard beside Wallace, laying a palm along his forehead. He’s bright pink and thrashing, burning up with fever; a slow dribble of foam leaks from his mouth. Quickly she uncorks the vial. “Jesus, hold that thought. How much of this should I give him?”

Mac moves up behind her, carrying the slip of paper with the formulas. “Whoever wrote this could stand to work on penmanship,” she says. “But it looks to me like the dosage is one drop.”

“Okay, buddy, keep it together just a little bit longer.” Very carefully, Veronica tilts the vial over Wallace’s slack mouth. A single, emerald-green drop slips between his lips, and the effect is immediate. Wallace’s whole body stiffens and jerks, arms thrashing, nearly spilling the antidote before Veronica can re-cork. His jaw opens wide like he’s gasping for air, his lashes snap up, and the pink flush staining his body begins slowly to turn…green?

He stares at Veronica upside down for a moment, face frozen in rictus; then all his muscles relax and he manages a smile. “Just in time,” he says, faintly. “I can always count on you to milk situations for every ounce of drama.”

WEEVIL

Sparing a glance for Echolls, who doesn’t look so hot after fleeing Pinkzilla, Weevil runs his palms over his shaved head, breathing out stress. His hopeful musings about this weird-ass night maybe being over are interrupted by Veronica’s friend Cindy, who sidles up beside him.

“Not to pry,” she says, prying, “but how on Earth did you show up in the nick of time with Wallace, driving a police car?”

Oh right, Weevil thinks. Keith. So much for even half an hour of sleep in his own bed. And he can’t call Hector to open the shop, because there’s no freaking cell service.

As if on cue, his phone rings. Mac lifts a brow as he removes it from his pocket and reads ‘unknown’ on the caller ID. “It’s Clayton’s vehicle,” he tells her, pressing ‘accept’. “I dropped him at the Pro Med on the way through town--I’ll explain in a minute.”

“MAN, the mobile reception here is weird.” Cindy shakes her head, looking as disgusted as Weevil feels. Across the line a male voice calls, “Hello?”

“Navarro,” Weevil says, curt, and the guy says, “Oh, thank God. I was beginning to think I’d never reach anyone but Casablancas. And no offense, but that guy sounded WAY too high to help much.”

“If you think I’ll be offended by someone ragging on Casablancas, you don’t know me very well.” Weevil walks away from the ongoing tearful reunion so he can hear better. “Who is this, and how’d you get my number?”

“It’s Leo D’Amato.” The voice pauses to cough. “I’m looking for Veronica Mars, you seen her?”

“Yeah, she’s here.” Weevil relaxes—he knows this cop’s a friend of V’s. “But now’s not a good time. She just gave the antidote to her pink friend, and it’s having some weird-ass side effects.”

“The ANTIDOTE? She FOUND it? Navarro, that needs to get to the CDC, like yesterday! At last count thirteen pink individuals have been captured all over the city, after wreaking havoc to confuse the news crews. If we don’t provide a remedy soon, those men are going to die.”

“Yeah, that was never gonna happen before Fennel got a dose.” Weevil smirks. “Guy’s eyeballs were pink, and you know V takes care of her people first.”

“Fine, whatever. Just make sure she saves some for testing; the government scientists can reverse-engineer it. Look, here’s the main reason I called—you guys aren’t anywhere near the Van Vliet winery, right?”

“We’re standing in the middle of it,” Weevil says. “Strange shit’s been going down here all day. Piznarski’s running around hot pink in his underwear. And your dirty detective pal has you would not BELIEVE how complicated a plot going with Liam Fitpatrick, this drug dealer I know, and my high school English teacher.”

“Explain all that to me later,” Leo says. “When I’m not hopped up on morphine and can figure out what you mean. Right now I need to warn you--this plot you’re talking about goes way beyond drug dealing with a side of rosacea. Military officers keep turning up to grill me about secret armies and political rebellions, and one of them made a crack about going in hot. Which means someone’s thinking of dropping a bomb. On YOU. SOON.”

“Shit,” Weevil says, takes a step back like that will somehow protect him. Then promptly falls down a hole.

He lands on sand after a ten-foot drop, winded but mostly unhurt, gazing up at the night sky through a small, square opening. His phone, not so lucky, hits a rock, and shatters into a hundred sharp fragments.

“Mackenzie!” Weevil calls--pauses to cough, tries again. Hopes fervently he’s not catching a cold on top of everything else. “Echolls! Get over here, I found something!”

Silence for a minute, while he sits up with a groan. Then Echolls’ smug face appears in the rectangle of sky. “Looks like…you found a hole, man.”

Weevil extends a middle finger, pushing up to standing; Echolls slaps a previously-unnoticed ladder bolted to the rock. “Trap door,” he says, unnecessarily. “Can you climb?”

“Yeah, give me a minute.” Weevil spreads palms on knees and bends over, trying to get air back into his lungs. A stray moonbeam flashes across metal, making it shimmer, and he kneels to pick the shiny object up. It’s a tie clip, shaped like a pair of handcuffs.

“You recognize this?” He passes the clip to Echolls, then slowly, painfully, returns to the yard. “Looks familiar, but I’m not sure from where.”

“Yeah, Keith.” Echolls sits to study the thing, rubbing a thumb along the crease between his eyes. He glances apprehensively at Veronica, still by the car cooing over Fennel. “It’s…Mr. Mars. Was wearing it tonight.” Spreading a palm over his face, he shakes his head, as if trying to clear it.

Mackenzie approaches to touch Echolls’ shoulder. “You OK?” she asks, concerned. “Did Piz clobber you?” She inspects his scalp for lumps, then extends a hand, palm out. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Mac, I’m just tired,” Echolls says. Weevil sighs, because he’s the one who fell down a fucking hole.

But he’s not a whiny two-year-old, so, “Mars!” he calls, instead of complaining. Her head bobs up over the cop car, like a prairie dog on some nature show. “We got a situation!”

Veronica helps Wallace gently out and offers a shoulder. The guy admittedly seems better, coherent and moving on his own, despite rocking the Jolly Green Not-So-Giant look. “What’s wrong?” she asks, with a concerned frown at Logan, when she gets close enough to talk.

In answer, Echolls holds up the tie tack; V sets Fennel on the grass to examine it. “This is Dad’s.” She looks between them for confirmation. “He was wearing it earlier. Where did you find this?”

Weevil points to the hole, and Veronica lies beside it, peering down. “Do you hear CHANTING?” she calls, girly voice audible despite the wind. The rest of them move closer, and yeah.

“So I guess we follow the creepy underground cult sounds?” Weevil asks, resigned. Veronica gives him the you-get-a-gold-star smile he learned to dread in eleventh grade. “Can Fennel even hike?”

“Somebody should take him to a hospital,” Veronica decides. “Mac, you game? You’re most able to explain his symptoms from a scientific perspective, and I’m sure the CDC doctors will have questions.”

“Of course.” Cindy holds out her hand for the car keys, which Weevil slaps into her palm. “You want me to surrender the antidote formula?”

“Yes,” Veronica says. “But first…” she takes the slip back, pulls out her phone, and quickly photographs both sides. “Insurance,” she says with a grin, returning it. “In case they have trouble distributing medicine to anyone in need. Oh, and after Wallace is squared away, call Bob Dillen at the San Diego PD and tell him everything. He’ll make sure nothing important gets swept under the rug.”

Veronica and her friend hug goodbye; Echolls sits on the ground staring at the tie tack while Weevil helps Fennel back to the car. Seems like V’s BFF is fading, exhausted by his ordeal--but he still grabs Weevil’s arm as soon as he’s buckled in.

“Thanks, man,” Fennel says, flashing a tired green smile. “For working so hard to save me, I really owe you one. And thanks for sticking around to look after these characters, too.”

“No problem, man, just get better.” Weevil pats the hood. “And less like a glow-stick at some rich kid’s party, this right here is not a good look for you.”

“Beats being dead,” Wallace says, and Weevil smiles and shuts the door. Veronica waves as Cindy drives away.

They descend into the tunnel, Weevil first (of course), Echolls shambling along ten feet back; Weevil wonders, watching him, if another trip to Pro Med’s in the cards. V has a hard time with the ladder, her hand doesn’t want to grip. She keeps flexing her fingers and frowning as they traverse the sandy dimness.

“You all right?” Weevil asks. V glances up at him with a faint smile.

“I landed weird when I fell this afternoon. My whole arm was numb for a while, then seemed better—maybe adrenaline masked the pain.” She waves off personal injury, activating the flashlight on her phone. “Doesn’t matter. Breitski’s got Dad’s down here somewhere--job one is to find him.”

“Dick’s on the premises, too,” Echolls contributes from behind. “And my stalker, whatshername, Jetson, and…Piz.”

“Oh yeah,” Veronica says, unenthusiastically. “Those guys. Sure, we can save them as well, if the opportunity presents.”

“Whatever we’re planning, we need to do it soon.” Weevil frowns as the chanting grows louder. “D’Amato called right before I smashed my phone, said the military’s gonna drop bombs.”

“Great.” Echolls emits a choked half-laugh. “Shock and awe. My karma.”

“Man, what did Piznarski DO to you?” Weevil demands, turning back to watch the guy stagger. “Usually your conversation’s all five-dollar words, and you won’t ever fucking shut up.”

“I’m fine,” Echolls says, stubbornly, and manages a reassuring smile. “Gotta find Dad, can’t…get lit up. Then X-rays.”

Veronica frowns, laying a palm against his cheek; but takes him at his word, because they’re both drama queens with hard-ons for saving humanity. Weevil shakes his head, checks his watch, and points at the door through which chanting filters.

He tries the handle--it’s unlocked, so he cracks it and peeks through. Echolls and V line up above and below so they can see, and softly, Veronica gasps.

Inside a big-ass cave, done up like a Broadway theater, a hundred pink idiots mill, dressed in street clothes, bumping each other and yelling. A video screen on the wall is playing loops--a pink Nice Guy shoves a leather-clad douche off a pretty girl, who then melts into Pinkie’s arms.

That senator’s son who framed Echolls for murder lounges in a throne center-stage, surrounded on three sides by soldiers-for-hire. He’s desultorily leading the Pinks in a chant of, “What do we want? Revenge! When do we want it? Now!” between sips of Topo Chico.

And handcuffed to a bench, stage left, are Dick, Ruby and a groggy-looking Keith Mars.

DICK

Richard Casablancas, Esquire is way glad, at this point, he’s high as fuck. Because watching LUKE, of all people, turn out to be the brains behind a zombie superhero rebellion is…really pretty hilarious, when he thinks about it.

To Dick’s left, Keith Mars is finally starting to rise and shine. Which takes a load off, because Ron Ron would ruin anyone who let the guy die. “Wha…?” the slightly-less-tiny detective manages, trying to make it upright. “Where?”

“Take it easy, man.” Dick uses his shoulder to lever Daddy Mars upright. “I think Breitski whomped you good. You’ve got a knot on your temple the size of an egg.”

“Where am I?” Keith asks, sinking against the wall for support. “And what on Earth is…all this?”

“You’re in the catacombs,” Ruby buts in, on top of the sitch as usual. “Under the Van Vliet winery. I’m Ruby Jetson, by the way, Mr. Mars. You’ve probably heard of me?”

Keith frowns, clearly at a loss, and Dick explains, “Dude, she’s on our side, no worries. And as for ‘all this’…looks like a motivational meeting to rouse the idiot brigade?”

Luke abandons the chant, because none of the zombies are listening, and beckons one of the mercs. “They’re as riled up as they’re getting,” he says, draining his Topo Chico. Snaps for someone to fetch him another. “Get ‘em on a bus, drop ‘em off all over the city, let them wreck as much infrastructure as possible. And try to monitor their…activities during the trip. Last time we had to hose the seats down.”

The guy salutes, activates another flashing-light-klaxon, and rounds up a couple buddies to herd out the Hulks. The dumbasses moan, punch and protest—one tries to grab and hump the girl in the video—but the soldiers have cattle prods to keep them in line.

“Your evil plan will never work!” Ruby calls out, movie-bravely, and Luke spares her a bored look.

“Are you talking about them?” He accepts a fresh sparkling water and gestures with it at the Pink Horde. “What do you take me for? They couldn’t execute a plan if you drew it out in crayon. They’re just meant to tie up police resources--and confuse the public--while our REAL operation goes down.”

“Which is what?” Keith asks, seemingly calm. But Dick, who’s been interrogated by the guy more than once during Keith’s Sheriff days and Dick’s vandalism ones, recognizes his sneaky cop face. “World domination? Why is it always world domination with you guys?”

“Not the WORLD,” Luke says, impatient. “Just the nice part of California, from Neptune to Malibu. Our non-pink militia is poised to take over, during the chaos caused by those morons.”

“But dude,” Dick protests. “Why work so hard? You’re already rich as fuck, your dad’s a politician—you framed Logan for murder, plus threw Susan off a boat, and all you got was PROBATION.”

“Duh,” Luke says. “Would YOU want to report to some mouth-breather every week for a year? I’m sick of being told what to do! First my dad forbids me to come out, then that douchecanoe Cobb makes me pretend to be his friend, and THEN the cops get all up in my face, sending me to rehab for six MONTHS. All because stupid Carrie Bishop had to sing about my every tiny mistake, for catharsis or whatever.”

“Hey!” Ruby yells, struggling to get loose like she’s overcome with fury. “Carrie was a goddess! You take that back!”

“Whatever, wannabe.” Luke favors her with a dismissive look. “Anyway, a lot of us missed the old days when Van Lowe and the Lambs were Sheriffs, and we did what we wanted, and no one cared. So we figured, the whole country’s expecting Calexit anyway--why not oblige? Create our own little utopian kingdom, where nobody can tell us no. Sean, admittedly, got carried away with his Gods Among Men delusions of grandeur; but you know how cokeheads freak when their artistic travesties fail. Have you seen Sean around this evening, by the way? He’s been missing since last night, and he was supposed to run this meeting so I wouldn’t have to. He lives for the Dr. Wayne Dyer shit.”

“Yeah, he’s at the bottom of your service-road Pungi pit with a broken leg,” Dick says. “And some dead body named Andy to keep him company. Ruby gave him Kleenex, though, to wipe away his tears.”

Ruby snickers beside him; Dick smiles, ‘cause it feels good to make her laugh.

“Damn it!” Luke throws up his hands. “WHY is good help so hard to find?”

A yelling uproar begins as Veronica, Logan and Weevil burst in from the hallway--Dick grins, because about fucking time. “Ronniekins!” he calls, even though he knows she can’t hear. “You came to save me!”

“Veronica Mars,” Luke says with disgust, draining his Topo Chico and tossing it aside. “Always showing up to kill my buzz. Go take care of them for me, will you boys? We’re on a tight schedule of California-conquering, we don’t need Miss Nosy butting in.”

The mercs file down to fight, only Wei remaining behind, presumably as Luke’s bodyguard. Logan and Weevil, neither of whom frankly looks so hot, go back to back and raise fists; Veronica, who seems fine despite that memory-loss business, comes running towards the stage. She’s waving a gun…and granted, Dick’s still kinda high, but they can’t make pistols out of solid gold, can they?

“Get away from my father, Luke!” she yells, aiming; that little Ronnie face Dick privately considers chipmunk-ish is screwed up into a scowl. Wei doesn’t bother to take her weapon—probably he knows as well as everyone Veronica won’t shoot. Luke, safely shielded, stifles a snicker.

“Come on, guys, Star Wars reference!” He points at Veronica, then himself. “God, you’re a bunch of buzzkills. It’s like you’re not even grateful I’m changing the world for your BENEFIT!”

“Maybe Dick would rather live in the REAL world…with people who are actually his friends,” Ruby says defiantly, and laughter distracts Wei and Luke long enough for Veronica to toss Dick a handcuff key. He can’t catch it, because, well, handcuffs; but he puts his foot over it on the floor and winks.

“Friends like you?” Luke asks. “Or Veronica? Whatever, Veronica Mars CONSTANTLY oppresses Dick and me both. And it’s not like she doesn’t want the status that comes with being elite. I mean, she hitched her wagon to Logan fucking Echolls. That guy used to be our KING.”

Everybody turns for a minute to look at Logan, who’s mid-room fighting like a BOSS, throwing super-mercs around as if they’re Cabbage Patch dolls. Ruby fans herself, muttering, “HUBBA, HUBBA!” Veronica gets so distracted LUKE kicks her gun out of her hand.

Keith falls on the floor during the chaos, faking unconsciousness, but secretly whacking Dick in the ankle to attract his attention. Obligingly, Dick moves his foot. Keith grabs the key, and gets to work on his handcuffs.

“If I wasn’t so appalled, I’d be impressed,” Veronica bluffs, glaring at Luke and gauging the distance to the fallen gun. “Who knew you had a scheme like this in you?”

Breitski picks up Keith and sets him back on the bench; studies the fight mid-room, frowning, as he tosses the gun backstage, then reluctantly wades into the fray. Luke says, “Hey, I’m just tired of being kept down by the Man. If people would let me do what I want with no CONSEQUENCES, I would never have had to get nasty.”

Handcuffs undone, Keith covertly passes the key to Ruby, and chimes in to distract their captors’ attention. “I think you might want to brush up on your Bill of Rights, Haldemann,” he says. “You seem to be laboring under some misconceptions.”

“Yeah, well soon I’m not going to be laboring at ALL.” Luke cracks up over his own joke, then dives for the gun a half-second after Veronica does. They begin tussling on the floor for possession; Keith wades in to help, and Ruby gets herself free, then uses the key to unlock Dick.

Dick grabs his sort-of girl, plants one on her, says, “My hero!” while she blushes and shoves him (but not like she means it). Then he yells, “DUDE, I’M COMING!” and takes a running leap, stage-diving into the fray.

The fight’s down to six mercs versus the Three Amigos; Navarro’s getting the shit beat out of him, which Dick finds weird. It’s not like these guys are especially tough. Dick’s grabbing and throwing them like it’s a Matrix video game, and Logan’s a freaking machine. Super-soldier shmuper-soldier, he thinks, kicking one jackoff sideways across the room. They’re no match for the Wonder Pot. Dick just needs to figure out how to grow the stuff from scratch, then he’s gonna make millions.

“Dude, military training is seriously underrated!” he shouts at Logan, who grunts in response. His pal knocks two bad guys together just as Navarro goes flying, landing against the stage with a thud. Dick blocks a hammer punch by stupid Breitski, kicks the douchebag in the nards, and says, “Yeah, that hurts, doesn’t it?” when the guy stays down for a minute, writhing.

He forgets what he’s doing for a second—apparently he IS still baked--then cackles and punches some asshole in the neck. Navarro shakes it off and forges back into the fray. “It’s like this is all going in slow motion!” Dick yells with glee, spinning in a circle and striking a karate pose. “Super Weed is so cool! I know kung fu!”

“Man, how much dope did you SMOKE?” Navarro asks, barely dodging a blow that would have broken his nose for sure. “And why do you smell like piss?”

“Long story.” Dick waves it off. Then gapes as Logan grabs one of the two mercs still standing, swings him around over his head by one arm, and throws him all the way across the fucking room. “Holy shit, dude, someone ate his Wheaties this morning! Did you SEE that, Weevs? Even all sunburned and exhausted and shit, he is kicking ASS!”

“He’s sunburned?” Navarro demands, grabbing up an empty shoe and slamming it into Breitski’s face. “You’re practically scalded, even your eyes are fucking….oh SHIT! Shit, Casablancas, man, did you and Echolls touch the pink goo?”

Dick thinks back as he grabs Breiski and throws him onto the stage, where he slides halfway under the big, red curtain. “Well, Rubster said not to, while they were giving Wallace a bath. And Piz just chased me around and tried to hand me flowers…oh crap! Logan and I carried Wallace inside the house, after I kinda-sorta ran him over, and we didn’t wash off! We’re fucking PINKIFYING!”

Logan lets out a roar, snarling as he waits for the next threat to come at him. Dick glances around, observes that all the nearby mercs look unconscious, and pulls the half-smoked joint out of his pocket. “Don’t worry, dude, I’ve got this. I just need to spark up and blow some in Logan’s face. This pot must work, like, synergistically with the pink to make people extra-smart; because every time I’ve gotten high all afternoon, I turn into, like, this super-efficient genius.”

Weevil manages a skeptical look with his swollen face; but Dick, undeterred, sticks to his plan. Logan tries to attack him when he ventures close—man the guy really does look as grapefruit-colored as Piz—but Dick just says, “No, dude, trust me.” Then grabs his arm, and blows the biggest drag he can right up Logan’s nostrils.

“Help!” Veronica yells from the stage, and Weevil goes sprinting off her direction--but Dick’s got his hands full, so he doesn’t bother to look. He feeds Logan another hit, which brings enough of his friend’s mind back to bat weakly at the smoke and go, “No, Navy….trouble…BREITSKI!”

Then he shoves Dick down and aims a punch over his head, right into that pain-in-the-ass rogue cop’s face.

Rolling his eyes at Wei’s deck shoes with no socks, Dick trips the guy and stands to feed the last hit to his friend, because that’s the kind of sharing bros do. Logan coughs, says, “I can’t believe this is helping,” then kicks Breitski for good measure. “You need to resign yourself…jail,” he adds, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’s two against one, and we’re all on the same drugs.”

“Ah, but I believe in the righteousness of my cause.” Wei grabs Logan’s foot and tries to yank him down—but Logan does some jump-over-the-leg martial-arts thing and plants a foot in the guy’s head because he’s just. that. awesome.

“Impressive,” Breitski admits, shaking off the blow. “I could use fighters like you two. And frankly, I’ve never understood why you’d both thwart us rather than join us. Aren’t you as sick of lawyer fees and taxes as I am? Superior officers threatening to court-martial, parents causing trouble even from jail, and never enough time to REALLY surf?”

He backs off and begins to circle, somehow under the impression they have time to listen to words. “Help us establish our kingdom, and all that’s behind you. The wannabe’s dumb enough to sign up for Pink Formula take the fall. And you know the serving class will fall in line, because things won’t be so different, really, from the way they are now. You could be kings again, just like you were in high school. You’ll never face another murder charge as long as you live.”

“Wow.” Logan tilts his head to loosen his neck, bones cracking. The smirk on his face clues Dick in that whatever comes next will be sweet. “Ten years ago, right after Veronica left, that line might have held faint appeal. But I’ve cleaned up my act, since, and learned something your desperate-to-be-Bodie-Chang ass won’t—rules and social accountability are GOOD.”

“Whoo, political arguments from the Log-meister! The Wonder Pot is wor-KANG!” Dick claps as Logan lays his right hook on Brietski, a really epic one, like a sledgehammer. The guy goes flying backwards and lands on his knees, flush to the edge of the stage. Rushing forwards, grinning (because no matter how spit-shined he gets, Logan’s always gonna love a good fight) he cocks a fist to annihilate. But before he can, Veronica appears from behind the curtain, and administers a whack to the poor bastard’s head with the butt of her golden gun.

Breitski goes down with a smear of gold to his temple, eyes rolling back. “And that,” she tells his unconscious form, with satisfaction, “is what you get when you mess with the bull. Or the bull’s impressively ethical boyfriend, as the case may be.”

“Ronniekins!” Dick crows, as Logan leaps onto the stage to lift and embrace her. “Is that gun, like, made of titanium? Because nobody’s disputing you have balls, babes, but this asshole’s super-soldier strong.”

Veronica holds out a palm, which is bright pink; pushes up her sleeve to reveal creepy-ass pink tendrils stretching up her arm. “I held hands with Logan,” she says, favoring her biggest admirer with a worried glance. “So temporarily, I am, too.”

Dick glances up at the stage, where Haldemann lies hogtied with the curtain rope, under the watch of Keith Mars and his handgun. Navarro slumps, panting, on the bench. Around the room, a sea of out-of-it super mercs lie groaning, but…Dick frowns. “Where’s Rubes?” he asks, patting his pocket and wishing he had just one more joint. “I ran off to help fight, and when I looked up, she was gone.”

Veronica ignores him, naturally, busy administering antidote to Logan and herself. Just as Dick’s about to remind her he could use that shit too, the door at the far end of the room slams open. A Special Forces squad storms in, late as usual because fucking military red tape.

Dick knows the drill so he just lies on his face with his hands behind his head. Wonders if his lawyer’s even awake yet.

A small boot nudges him, after a moment. A voice from above says, “You can get up now. We’re only arresting the actual criminals.”

He rolls over, and there, looming, is Ruby, decked out in a flak vest and helmet over the Lara Croft gear, carrying a freaking automatic. She extends a hand to help; he stands and gestures up and down at her outfit. “What’s this all about? Where did you GO?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she says, with a faint smirk, and he actually can’t tell if she’s kidding. She pats his chest. “But let me remind you, I DID hint from the start I had a part to play.”

Going up on tiptoe, she kisses Dick’s cheek, then wanders off to confer with what looks like the squad’s leader. She looks scarily at home holding a gun. Dick files the moment away for the spank bank, since it’s clear, now, she’s too badass to date him.

Logan moves up beside him, sweaty and starting to show bruises—though it’s pretty hard to tell how big they are, since the poor bastard’s currently bright green. “Was that Ruby JETSON?” he asks, running a hand through his short Navy hair. “I thought her leg was broken!”

Dick shrugs and mutters, “Women.” He figures that pretty much says it all.

VERONICA

A half hour of general chaos follows, during which super-soldiers are cuffed and hauled to quarantine, and Luke is led away in chains; her friends are herded up to the surface for individual debriefs, while the catacombs are quartered and searched. Veronica answers a tired commando’s questions to the best of her ability. Watches Logan joke, out of the corner of her eye, with a couple of armored guys who seem to know him.

When her story’s told she searches the crowd for Weevil, last spotted in an ambulance receiving first aid; she still has no clue what he was doing here, and curiosity’s her besetting sin. The ambulance hasn’t moved—Sean Friedrich, attached to a stretcher, is being loaded into it--but Weevil’s long gone. Probably he headed back to Neptune, away from all the authority figures with guns. V decides to stop by his shop on Monday. She needs help with a few more cases, and he’ll be easier to grill if she gets him alone.

Veronica DOES find Dick, sprawled morosely on the lawn with his back to a tree, a woman’s purse and grocery bag beside him. He’s still lobster-pink, in startling contrast to his yellow hair. Glancing around covertly to make sure they’re unobserved, she hisses to attract his attention, and administers a drop of antidote.

“Aw, I KNEW you cared.” Dick tilts his head back, letting the violent trembling that seems to be a side effect overtake him. Watches, amused, as she re-pockets the still-half-full vial. “Not planning to give that up to the brass?”

“Do YOU trust our government to use powerful drugs for the good of humanity?” She sits beside him. “I told them we drank it all. Besides, they’ve got the formula, if they really want to save people. If not—if some kind of cover-up takes place—I want as much proof as possible squirreled away, so I can create a counter-narrative.”

“You’ll need this, then.” Dick hands over the woman’s bag; Veronica frowns, because it looks just like hers from college. “It’s Ruby’s,” Dick explains, maybe reading her expression. “She disappeared and left it behind. Her cell’s dead, but there’s a video in ‘photos’ of Lydia, Sean and Jeff confessing to crimes.”

“Nice!” Veronica fishes out the heavily-bedazzled phone and pockets it. “Way to be a player on the noble team for a change.”

The commandos begin loading up their transports; the guy in charge approaches, followed by Logan leading Dad (who’s got a bandage around his head, but looks a lot more chipper). “Ms. Mars, Mr. Casablancas,” the officer greets them, admirably avoiding comment on their general greenness. “Is your vehicle on the lawn over there operational?”

Dick shrugs and looks to Veronica, who nods. Logan says, “I’ve got the keys, I’ll check,” and crosses to the SUV. A moment later, the engine revs, and he returns with a thumbs-up.

“Excellent,” Guy in Charge says. “What we need you to do is remove it from the premises immediately. Unofficially, this place will look like the surface of the moon in about half an hour, and we don’t want any debris found that point to your presence. As for the serum you absorbed through the skin--medic says you all seem healthy. But we’d like you to avoid contact with civilians for the night, just in case. If you report to the base in Coronado you’ll be given temporary rooms, and a full repeat eval in the morning. Maybe the docs can help with the…staining issue.” He glances over at Logan, just barely represses a snicker, and adds, “Good thing Echolls already has a girlfriend.”

Logan offers him a bland, yet still somehow sarcastic, return smile, and the guy grins. Shouts, “Move your asses, we’re Oscar Mike!” and climbs into the nearest vehicle. The military convoy moves slowly down the service road…accompanied, faintly, by the sound of some jackass singing “It Ain’t Easy Being Green.”

“Hoo-kay.” Logan dusts his hands together in a good-riddance gesture. “Anybody want to enjoy a re-enactment of my basic training days, insufficient-sleep version? Sounds like they have some uncomfortable cots and scratchy blankets with our names on them, waiting.”

“I’m doing concussion watch, so I’ll be in the sick bay,” Dad says, with a wry smile. “But I’d love a chance to lie down. It’s not every day an old guy like me helps his daughter wrestle evil masterminds.”

“Need a hand climbing up?” Logan asks. Dad waves him off and gets in alone. Logan takes the opportunity to grab Veronica and kiss her senseless, the sweet-but-promising-scorching variety that always gets her going. She sighs, happily, twining her arms around his neck…surprisingly unfazed that he DOES look vaguely Kermit-y.

Dick snorts disdain. Removes a blonde wig from the bag, which he slaps on his head, muttering, “Oh, Logan, do me, you’re so MANLY!” Reaches back in to locate an old wine bottle, which he uncorks and toasts them with in one economical motion. Lifts it to his mouth, sniffs…then tosses it away, repulsed.

“Pink goo,” he explains, examining his hand to make sure nothing got on him. “Maybe some of that super-old wine zombie-formula-ified when it spoiled? Lydia could have figured out her crackpot idea from there.”

Logan laughs, bends his head for another kiss. Which is when Piz comes rushing out of the woods, screaming, “RONKAAAAAA!” and tackles Dick sideways.

Veronica digs for her taser, before remembering she gave it to Mac; Keith calls, “What’s happening?” from the passenger seat, and attempts to get down. Logan runs straight towards the altercation (of course), but trips on a tree root. Piz begins humping a startled Dick with a fervency that’s truly disturbing.

“Dude, get OFF,” Dick shouts, an unfortunate choice of words, and fumbles for the purse beside him. Manages to remove a can of air before any of the rest of them can find a weapon, and sprays it directly into Piz’s eyes.

Captain Pinkness shrieks and scuttles back, and Dick follows, whacking him with a hammer. “Give it up, man!” he yells, striking Piz’s shoulder with a meaty crunch. “Veronica is NEVER going to date a guy who acts so needy!”

“YOU NOT LOVE LOGAN LIKE YOU LOVE MEEEE!” Piz screeches in response, deterred from romance by the viciously swinging hammer. He stares, panting, for a moment, angry longing of a thousand thwarted Nice Guys in his eyes; then turns and runs, past the barn and off into the distance, almost too fast to track.

He’s just reached the line of foliage near the cell tower when the first bomb hits. Both the fake tree and NPR’s Greatest Millennial Hope are abruptly reduced to a plume of white ash.

Veronica winces. Logan shouts, “We need to MOVE!” grabs her hand, and races for the car, Dick on their heels. They pile in. Executing the kind of tidy three-sixty only a jet pilot could, Logan guns it down the service road at top speed, the approaching apocalypse literally at their heels.

Bombs are going off in the rearview by the time they make it onto the highway--Veronica winces as incandescent flashes and sonic booms wipe the Van Vliet Experiment from existence. Sighs, as they gain distance and the noise fades, slumping back into her seat.

“Hey guys?” she asks, not opening her eyes. “Thanks for riding to the rescue when I didn’t make it home.”

“Protecting Veronica Mars is job one,” Logan says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. “If you went and made it easy on us, life would be no fun.”

“Well in that case…” she says. “I won’t bother fake-promising never to do it again.”

“You gotta be you.” Dick elbows her from his position sprawled against the window. “Come on, let’s get to that base, see what they can do about this whole turning-green problem. Maybe Rubester will show up dressed like a naughty nurse and administer the treatment.”

“Ew,” Veronica says, but not with any heat. She stretches her legs out, crossing them at the ankle. Drifts off as they speed down the road, the receding sound of explosions like a lullaby.

THE END

This concludes our VMHQ Round Robin / Campfire Tale story. We hope you all enjoyed this collaborative fic as much as we did. Many thanks to all the wonderful writers who participated, and all the wonderful readers who commented and reblogged the story posts. 

Next up at VMHQ is our Holiday Fic Grab Bag challenge, which will post on Christmas Eve! Submit your prompts to our Ask Box now, and maybe your favorite writer will be inspired!

[isabellakristen]

As a Storm Ends | Self Para

 “Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven't the answer to a question you've been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you're alone in the whole house?”

– The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norton Juster

Isabella wakes up to silence for the first time in days.

At first, she thinks that she’s woken up before the alarm – which had been sounding at the same time every morning, like clockwork – but the sunlight is streaming through her living room window. She looks at the clock, and sees that it’s one o’clock in the afternoon.

Edward let her sleep in?

Maybe it’s a small act of mercy, again? He must have heard her crying, and decided to let her rest, she reasons. But even so, she doesn’t move from her position on the couch, curled up and tense, even in sleep. If he sees she’s awake, he might start something. Her body is tingling, and she knows her muscles must be stiff and aching, but she doesn’t feel the pain of it. She just lies perfectly still, and thinks.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep. It must have been shortly after he ordered to bed. Did he sleep too? Perhaps that why he didn’t wake up at the usual time? If she was right, and he hadn’t slept much, or at all, since starting this game, then he must be exhausted.

She thinks, Oh God, let him be asleep. And slowly, cautiously, she sits up, and her bones creak arthritically. Her neck is tingling from where she slept awkwardly on the arm of the couch. If he sleeps through most of the day, then she’ll be afforded some peace at last. It’s almost too good to be true. She can feel a difference in the air, as if it’s lighter, as if she’s finally not being watched. It’s in her head – she knows that – but it’s so much easier to breathe, assuming that he’s not there, peering down at her.

Isabella stands up, and stretches her arms above her head. She never stretches like that in front of Edward – it’s too casual – but now, she feels her bones click and her muscles give, and she sighs to herself. It’s such a small relief, such a ridiculous thing to be happy about. It’s amazing, really, what she’s come to appreciate.

Her phone is lying on the floor, beside the couch, but she doesn’t want to look at it. There’s no symbol on the screen to signal a new text, or a missed call, or a voicemail. Jubilee hadn’t replied to her voicemail. Of course, it’s stupid to be upset that no one had reached out to her. They were busy. Isabella had the luxury of being safely imprisoned in her house. Edward is the only person in the world who knows where she is.

She should take the chance to ask if her friends are okay. Oswald, Natasha, Harley. This might be her only chance to talk to them. And, recklessly, she considers telling them what’s going on. But she can’t do that, and she knows it. It would be selfish. She doesn’t know where they are, or if they’re safe, or if they’ve been infected by the toxin. Not only would it be selfish of her to tell them what’s happening to her, but it would fatal. This game was between her and Edward. She would be breaking the rules if she cried out for help. And he would win. Her only choice is to bear it.

So, she bends down and picks up her phone, and carries it into the kitchen. She pauses in the doorway, waiting for Edward’s voice, or a sudden alarm to ring, or the TV turn on. But there’s silence. He must really be asleep. The relief she feels is so overwhelming that she leans against the doorframe and just breathes out, drinking in the feeling of being unwatched, finally being left by herself. It won’t last long. He’ll wake up soon.

After a second, she looks down at her phone and begins typing quickly. First Natasha, then Harley. She sets the phone down on the kitchen counter, and boils the kettle. She slowly makes herself a cup of tea, trying to move silently, in case she wakes Edward.

Is he asleep at the monitor? She can picture him, with his head on his desk, his glasses askew, his hair probably messy from where he’s run his fingers through it. The thought of him like that makes her skin crawl. She glances up at the ceiling, but there’s no sound from the microphone, no sudden blast from the TV. Nothing.

When she’s made the tea, she takes a small sip of it, and closes her eyes. It’s almost like none of this is happening. It’s almost like she’s having an ordinary lazy morning, except for the fact that the back of her neck is prickling and she’s wearing the same clothes she fell asleep in and she can’t stop thinking that something is going to happen any second. He’s going to do something.

Is he playing with her? Maybe this is another test. Isabella opens her eyes, and looks at the kitchen wall. Is he being silent, pretending he’s gone, to see if she’ll try to leave? Is he teasing her with the possibility of being free, being left alone, to see what she’ll do if she’s unsupervised? Perhaps he wants to observe her in an environment where she thinks she’s not being watched?

She slowly places her mug down on the kitchen counter and says, “Edward?”

There’s no response. So, she decides to risk it, to goad him into replying. “You were right. I stole Sabrina.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but she can’t think of what else would make him reply, if he’s there. She needs to know he’s not watching. And at least Edward is consistent. Even if this was a test, Isabella is certain he would stop it just to retort to something like that.

But her comment is met with silence, again. There’s almost no way he would have been able to ignore something like that, even for the sake of a controlled experiment of her behaviour. She’s not being watched, for the first time in days. She’s alone.

She breathes out and puts her hands on the kitchen counter, lowering her shoulders and dropping the poise she’s been carrying every second of the day, the controlled demeanour that came with her Query persona, the mask of dignity and indifference. The weight of Edward’s gaze, the presence of him in the air, the awful, creeping, sensation that she’s being looked at all the time, rolls off her like water.

Isabella lets the seconds pass, almost waiting for it to end as soon as it begun. But nothing happens. And she realises she’s wasting very precious time. Whether Edward is asleep, or he’s left her alone and gone out, she doesn’t know, but she has no idea how long he’ll be gone, and she needs to savour every moment of freedom, while she has it.

She feels dirty. She hasn’t showered in days, and an imagined layer of grime clings to her skin. Her hair is greasy and stringy, and even tied back in a ponytail, it feels oily and unwashed against her scalp. There’s a chance that Edward will wake up, or come back, while she’s in the shower, but Isabella decides to take that risk. She needs to feel clean again.

Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she walks into her bedroom, gets under the duvet, and gets undressed slowly. And then she wraps she duvet around her like a toga, gripping it tightly, and heads into the bathroom. Every action is deliberated and careful, and she keeps expecting to be stopped by a dramatic cry of her name, or a sudden loss of power in the house.

Holding the duvet around herself, she stands outside the shower door and thinks let go of it. But she hasn’t been naked without something covering her for days. It seems impossible to let the duvet fall. It’s almost funny, in a sick sort of way. Edward will return to the monitor to see her standing her in the bathroom, frozen on the spot, unable to let go of the sheet covering her, even though there’s no one watching. And she’ll miss her chance to shower.

Without letting herself think about it, she drops the duvet and steps into the shower immediately. It’s frightening, being this exposed, and she turns on the water quickly. And, just like that, she forgets about her fear and her nerves and the fact that this could be snatched away from her at any moment. The water douses her, and it’s so gentle and pleasantly warm and cleansing, and Isabella relaxes under the downpour. She tilts her head back and lets it patter onto her face, light and refreshing and wonderful.

She takes great care to massage her scalp, digging her fingertips into her skin, enjoying the feeling of her hair between her fingers. Then she picks up the shampoo bottle and pours it into her cupped hand, inhaling the raspberry scent of it with her eyes closed. It’s fruity and gentle on her senses, and she can’t remember ever smelling something so sweet. When she pours it into her cupped hand, she opens her eyes to look at it. It’s pastel pink and syrupy, and she lathers her head with it, careful to wash every inch of her hair.

The sensation of removing the grease and grime from her scalp is amazing, and she wonders if she’ll ever take showering for granted again. There’s nothing else in the world, outside of this shower cubicle. She’s completely alone under the water, blinded by it, protected by it. Edward could have returned. He could be silently watching her. She’s not sure if there’s a camera in the bathroom. He’s never told her. But, right at that moment, Isabella doesn’t care. All she can focus on is being clean, being refreshed, being rejuvenated.

When she’s finally rinsed the shampoo away, she washes herself slowly, covering every inch of her body in vanilla scented body wash, smearing it across her skin in large circles, breathing in the soft smell of vanilla, imagining layers of filth and grit and dirt being turned white with soap. It sinks right through her flesh, washing away the heaviness of terror and fury and weariness down the drain. Her muscles relax and her bones settle and her skin breathes again for the first time in days.

Even after she’s completely cleansed herself, she just stays standing there, in the warmth of the water. Her fingertips are wrinkled from how long she’s spent in the shower, and she’s sodden, but she doesn’t care. It’s too good to leave. Even naked, and completely exposed, she feels safe there. And she tells herself that she would know if Edward had returned. She would feel his gaze on her, covering her with invisible slime again.

It’s impossible to know how long she stays in the shower. The entire bathroom is full of steam, so thick with it that, when she finally turns off the water and steps out of the shower, she feels hidden by it.

She wraps herself in her towel quickly, deliberately choosing the softest one, and then wraps her hair up in a smaller towel on the top of her head. She’ll let her hair dry naturally, she decides, so that it goes fluffy.

It’s still silent, in the apartment.

Just to check, she calls, “Edward? Are you there?” But she’s met with no response. He’s either still asleep, or still away from the place he’s watching her from.

What if he’s in danger?

It’s a sudden, stupid, thought, and she immediately hates herself for it. If he’s in danger – if he’s got caught up in Joker’s chaos – then that’s his own fault for going outside during a terrorist attack. There’s no point worrying about Edward. But she can’t shake her concern, even as she pads carefully out of the bathroom, and into her bedroom, her gaze flickering up to the ceiling every few seconds, like she’s got a nervous tic.

He could have been captured, or been arrogant enough to go and see Joker himself. Edward had always hated the Clown Prince of Crime. What if he was so manic, believed himself to be so invulnerable, that he’d left her overnight to take on Joker? But surely, even at the height of his madness, Edward wouldn’t be that stupid? Surely not?

Isabella dries herself quickly, and dresses in one of Edward’s white button down shirts. It hangs past her hips, and she rolls up the sleeves on it, before slipping on her own pair of jeans. Had he noticed that she’d been wearing his clothes, trying to make herself shapeless? She hasn’t worn something that clung to her form ever since the game started. Edward used to love seeing her in his clothes. But now, she’s wearing them to drown her body in them, to hide from him. Has he realised why, or does he think she’s doing it to spite him? Has he even noticed?

Dressed at last, and feeling fresh and clean and whole, she stands in her bedroom and stares at her cupboard door blankly. What now? She should keep texting her friends, trying to glean what’s going on outside. She should wait for Jubilee’s call. And she has to wait for Edward to return.

It’s completely insane but, for a moment, she misses him. This is more peace than she’s had in days, and she’s grateful for the chance to shower without the fear of being observed. But, without Edward here, she feels a little lost. He gave her something to focus on, something to rail against. He gave her a centre of gravity around which to orbit her days. But now she’s alone, not being watched, and she doesn’t know what to do.

She’s grown used to the routine he’s set up for her, even after only a few days. An alarm to wake her up at the same time every morning. A quick breakfast, studiously ignoring him. A few hours to read, sometimes replying to his texts, or sometimes ignoring them, if he wasn’t saying anything that requiring a response. And then an alarm or a text to inform her it was lunchtime. A few more hours reading. And then dinner. And then bed.

It’s obvious what’s happening. She’s being institutionalised. He’s forcing her into a mindless, painfully dull, routine. Just like he’d had at Arkham. Round and round. Day in, day out. Until last night, when the Joker had attacked, each day had been almost indistinguishable from the other. Blurring into one. Inane and achingly boring and long. Hours stretching out, painfully slow, minutes ticking by in silence.

She walks out of her bedroom, grabs her phone, and returns to sit on couch. She opens her incoming texts – none of them from Edward – and reads them quickly, her heartbeat picking up at Natasha’s insistence that she’s going to fight, Oswald’s panic, Harley’s insanity. Her friends need her.

And she considers, for a split second, simply leaving. She could find Jubilee, see Oswald, make sure Harley’s somewhere safe. She could be outside again, and breathe fresh air and feel the breeze on her face and the open space of the real world again.

But reality crashes down instantly, killing that thought the moment she has it. Leaving would be idiotic. Leaving would be breaking the rules. Leaving could mean death.

That should terrify her, but she’s grown used to the idea. Edward wants her dead. Edward wants to kill her. She has thought it over and over, during the long hours of silence, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s simply a fact, with no emotion attached to it. She can think it now, and her chest doesn’t ache, and her breath doesn’t catch in her throat. It’s easy to think. It’s blunt, and simple, and the sharp sting of it has been dulled by repetition.

Isabella replies to her friends’ texts, not moving from her seat. If she can reassure them, even a little, then that will be enough. And then she puts her phone down beside her, and stands up. She walks over to the TV. Edward can remotely control it from wherever he is, but she can still manually control it. It’s a small amount of power, but it feels like she’s got the entire world at her fingertips.

She switches it on, and flicks through the channels. Logically, she knows that she should watch the news, but even the thought of that is too emotionally draining. She’s spent so long panicked, that she can’t take watching the news, and learning about the aftermath of the Joker’s attack. While she can, she just wants to escape the real world.

So, instead, she flicks through the channels until she finds a movie. It’s an old Western – the perfect late afternoon flick – and Isabella settles down on the couch, and breathes out slowly. She knows she’s being disgustingly selfish, but she can’t bring herself to care anymore. Her friends are safe – she knows that now. She’s still concerned for Jubs, and Jim, and Jason, but she tells herself that they’re okay. They’re safe.

This can’t last. Isabella knows that. The TV will shut off suddenly, when Edward returns. He’ll probably turn off the power, to punish her for her insubordination. He will probably do something awful, because she’s had the entire day to herself, but she doesn’t let herself worry about that. It will happen, and she will bear it.

But, for now, she relaxes, and lets herself just be.