Hostage Situation [Worm AU fanfic]

alethiophile · Nov 21, 2015

It seems likely that the identity 'Marquis' is actually legally separate from the secret identity in some significant way. Having at least a concept of this would be almost necessary for the Protectorate to work, and it wouldn't be too surprising for it to have been applied to the villains in some way as well. If that's the case, then he was put in the Birdcage as 'Marquis', and so referring to him as such would be the correct method.

Helian05 · Nov 21, 2015

alethiophile said:
It seems likely that the identity 'Marquis' is actually legally separate from the secret identity in some significant way. Having at least a concept of this would be almost necessary for the Protectorate to work, and it wouldn't be too surprising for it to have been applied to the villains in some way as well. If that's the case, then he was put in the Birdcage as 'Marquis', and so referring to him as such would be the correct method.

Not necessarily. He was arrested in his home, presumably as Bob Smith, or whatever his name really is. I'm fairly certain he didn't buy the house by putting Marquis on the deed.

alethiophile · Nov 21, 2015

He could have been arrested as Marquis, for being Marquis, even in a house owned by Bob Smith. The Brigade certainly went after him as Marquis.

edale · Nov 21, 2015

Ack said:
Instead, they said, "Woo hoo! We got us a healer! Welcome to being a superhero, honey!" or some variation thereof.

Somehow I doubt either parent was ever that enthusiastic about Amy. Carol was Carol, and Mark was clinically depressed...

Ack said:
Honorary medical degree, not a full PhD.

I was under the impression she earned the degree by passing the relevant exams, studying was just a LOT faster because of her power, since she'd seen and cured everything in the test.

alethiophile said:
This is all dumb as crap. Legally, there was no neglect; Amelia lived in the same house and got the same food and luxuries Vicky did. Emotionally, Carol was a crappy parent, but the law does not contain penalties for being a crappy parent. Similarly, "child abuse" has a specific meaning, and "being kind of cold all the time" doesn't qualify. "Child exploitation" is a term of art that refers to sexual abuse, which also (guess what) didn't happen. "Child slavery" is something dumb you've pulled out of your ass. (Hey, guess what, my parents made me work in the garden when I was a kid! Without any pay, except for all the food and shelter and education and everything else! Child slavery!) You're also pulling out some weird generalization of the argument from sexual consent, or something, which is wrong and also pointless, because the parent doesn't need the child's consent to make her do things.

By child exploitation I was talking about in the sense of the child actor who earns millions, while their parents spend all the earnings saving none for the child. Perhaps it's a different term used for that? I never meant to bring any sexual reference into it.

There is a BIG difference between a child working in the garden, or in the fields in the case of farmers, and having a child work in a professional setting. Even in the case of family businesses such as a restaurant or store, if a child of the family regularly works in the business, they have to be paid by law (usually into a savings account for when they reach hit 18, or college fund).

If one parent has custody of a child, and does things like that, then the other parent gains custody, then the first parent had the legal right to do it when they had custody, but the other parent can still sue for them happening, so it's NOT a contradiction to say that. The fact that the parent doesn't need the child's consent is the reason the law suit would win.

And emotional abuse is a very real thing. Please don't treat it as a joke.

Prince Charon · Nov 21, 2015

edale said:
And emotional abuse is a very real thing. Please don't treat it as a joke.

Quoted for emphasis. Seriously, I hate it when people treat emotional abuse as somehow less of a problem than physical abuse.

Sinner_sb · Nov 21, 2015

Sadly emotional abuse is considered lesser by many because it is harder to prove. Physical abuse leave evidence behind, bruises, scars, broken bones and so on. Emotional abuse nothing as visible, and some people could claim that it is just attention seeking behaviour, like they did to Taylor.

GladiusLucix · Nov 22, 2015

Very nice chapter. What I was hoping for, though, when Marquis was lecturing about heroes getting or not getting paid, was a reference to the Protectorate having a salary, plus the revenue from their merchandise. It seems like a bit more accurate of an example than the police and firefighters.

Ack · Nov 22, 2015

edale said:
Somehow I doubt either parent was ever that enthusiastic about Amy. Carol was Carol, and Mark was clinically depressed...

But they were certainly happy enough to have her on the team, to have her wearing a costume and healing people, making New Wave look good, and gaining international attention. Which was my point all along. (I may have overdone the enthusiasm for emphasis).

edale said:
I was under the impression she earned the degree by passing the relevant exams, studying was just a LOT faster because of her power, since she'd seen and cured everything in the test.

The only mention of that, at all, is here:

"I have an honorary medical license," Amy told him, her expression solemn, "I'm not allowed to fuck with you about stuff like that. Hippocratic oath."

She may be pulling his leg, even there. But, in keeping with Tinkers having to put their devices up for review, she would probably have been required to show that she can identify all the parts of the body and how to fix them. I doubt very much that she spent more than a day doing that.

Bu she certainly doesn't have a PhD in anything.

edale said:
By child exploitation I was talking about in the sense of the child actor who earns millions, while their parents spend all the earnings saving none for the child. Perhaps it's a different term used for that? I never meant to bring any sexual reference into it.

There is a BIG difference between a child working in the garden, or in the fields in the case of farmers, and having a child work in a professional setting. Even in the case of family businesses such as a restaurant or store, if a child of the family regularly works in the business, they have to be paid by law (usually into a savings account for when they reach hit 18, or college fund).

Uh ... New Wave doesn't get any money from being heroes. What you're describing would only really be valid if New Wave was a business where the adult members (and the other kids) got a salary for being superheroes, and Amy got nothing. None of them get paid for saving people. It's what they do. They choose to do it.

The point Marquis is making is not that 'you are working her against her will' (a moral standpoint) but 'why the fuck aren't you charging for her services' (a pragmatic standpoint). He would.

The fact that her load would lighten the moment people had to pay is another matter altogether (but one that he's taking into account, for her sake).

Exploitation would be if they charged for her services and kept all the money. But they're not even doing that. The most that can be said is that they are reaping immaterial rewards (free PR) and healing for any member of the team who needs it.

edale said:
If one parent has custody of a child, and does things like that, then the other parent gains custody, then the first parent had the legal right to do it when they had custody, but the other parent can still sue for them happening, so it's NOT a contradiction to say that. The fact that the parent doesn't need the child's consent is the reason the law suit would win.

And emotional abuse is a very real thing. Please don't treat it as a joke.

Once again, the worst that's been done there is emotional neglect. It's more a matter of Carol not treating her as her daughter, rather than going out of her way to treat her badly. She isn't verbally abused or forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs. Note that the long-term effect of this, especially with one daughter always shown love to while the other is left flat, can be profound, but it's not like Carol set out to hurt her. Carol just didn't want her around, and she was emotionally incapable of showing any sort of love or attachment because of that.

Ack · Nov 22, 2015

GladiusLucix said:
Very nice chapter. What I was hoping for, though, when Marquis was lecturing about heroes getting or not getting paid, was a reference to the Protectorate having a salary, plus the revenue from their merchandise. It seems like a bit more accurate of an example than the police and firefighters.

To be honest, when I was writing it, I forgot about the Protectorate being paid like that.

It will come up later.

qof · Nov 22, 2015

Being incapable of releasing people from the Birdcage is an important myth to maintain, and frankly I'm not sure Panacea is worth risking its loss. It keeps villains from simply holding cities or more hostage for the release of inmates.

RoninSword · Nov 22, 2015

qof said:
Being incapable of releasing people from the Birdcage is an important myth to maintain, and frankly I'm not sure Panacea is worth risking its loss. It keeps villains from simply holding cities or more hostage for the release of inmates.

Except that Amy can make Marquis look completely different once he is released so that no one recognizes him. Most people aren't aware of who Amy's birth father is anyways so just set him up with a new civilian identity. No one has to know.

Ack · Nov 23, 2015

qof said:
Being incapable of releasing people from the Birdcage is an important myth to maintain, and frankly I'm not sure Panacea is worth risking its loss. It keeps villains from simply holding cities or more hostage for the release of inmates.

Which works as an argument right up to the point where it doesn't; specfically, when they need someone who can heal on the scale and versatility that Panacea can - say, a high ranking member of the PRT discovers that he has cancer - and the only way to deal with her is to release her father ... Yeah, that shit would go down.

The truth of the matter is, the PRT has become dependent on Panacea. If she was just retiring, that would be one thing. But keeping her services in return for releasing one man from supermax? They've made bigger compromises before.

Muroshi9 · Nov 23, 2015

qof said:
Being incapable of releasing people from the Birdcage is an important myth to maintain, and frankly I'm not sure Panacea is worth risking its loss. It keeps villains from simply holding cities or more hostage for the release of inmates.

That's a quick trip to a kill order if I ever heard one.

Ack said:
Which works as an argument right up to the point where it doesn't; specfically, when they need someone who can heal on the scale and versatility that Panacea can - say, a high ranking member of the PRT discovers that he has cancer - and the only way to deal with her is to release her father ... Yeah, that shit would go down.

The truth of the matter is, the PRT has become dependent on Panacea. If she was just retiring, that would be one thing. But keeping her services in return for releasing one man from supermax? They've made bigger compromises before.

Yeah a villain who tries to take hostages would be much easier to deal with just take him and his method of hostage taking out. A healer taking hostages by going on vacation is much harder to deal with. They are breaking no law and committing no crime. You can't enslave them legally so you pretty much have to deal with what they want.

Ack · Nov 24, 2015

Muroshi9 said:
That's a quick trip to a kill order if I ever heard one.

Yeah a villain who tries to take hostages would be much easier to deal with just take him and his method of hostage taking out. A healer taking hostages by going on vacation is much harder to deal with. They are breaking no law and committing no crime. You can't enslave them legally so you pretty much have to deal with what they want.

Exactly and precisely.

Note that Saint, who is the in-universe example of "What the fuck, dude? What the serious fuck?" and wants Teacher out of the 'Cage so badly he can taste it, doesn't even try to pull that shit, even with the hold he has over Dragon.

There is the distinct possibility that someone's tried it and it just didn't work, so everyone else shelved it as "yeah, no, not worth it."

Xilph · Nov 24, 2015

Anybody both strong enough and scary enough to pull it off would already have a kill order and be an S class threat, they'd also need to be considered trustworthy enough to keep their deal and smart enough to do it subtly as they couldn't make a public affair out of it so nobody would actually meet that criteria afaik. The S9 for example has the power and would be believed they'd follow through with the killing but they don't have the trust to keep their end and not kill everyone anyway, really the best candidate for actually pulling it off would be like some kind of S class Marquis or something, the combination of honor to be trusted and intelligence with the power and motivation to actually follow through with killing a city would be really, really rare.

edale · Nov 29, 2015

Prince Charon said:
Quoted for emphasis. Seriously, I hate it when people treat emotional abuse as somehow less of a problem than physical abuse.

Seriously, physical abuse rarely leaves permanent marks, but emotional abuse.... I know several people who at 40+ are still dealing with the effects of emotional abuse that happened when they were young enough that most people wouldn't even remember it. The most extreme case I personally know had the emotional abuse happen to them when they were 19-25 months old (so only a 6-month period), and at 55 years old they still suffer the effects.

I'm not trying to downplay the seriousness of physical abuse, not at all, just trying to emphasize the seriousness of emotional abuse.

Ack said:
Uh ... New Wave doesn't get any money from being heroes. What you're describing would only really be valid if New Wave was a business where the adult members (and the other kids) got a salary for being superheroes, and Amy got nothing. None of them get paid for saving people. It's what they do. They choose to do it.

Panacea showing up for Endbringer fights, and healing Protectorate capes, that's being a hero.

Panacea spending more time in a week healing people at the hospital than anyone else in New Wave spends "heroing" in a month, on top oh her own "heroing" work, that's exploitation, or at best criminal neglect.

There's also the fact that the adult members of New Wave are just that, adults capable of making those decisions. Child Labor laws (depending on state) actually have it as illegal for an under-aged person to work more than a certain number of hours a week at volunteer jobs, even with parental consent. In some states it's illegal for a child to work a volunteer job at all, parental consent or no.

Ack · Nov 29, 2015

edale said:
Seriously, physical abuse rarely leaves permanent marks, but emotional abuse.... I know several people who at 40+ are still dealing with the effects of emotional abuse that happened when they were young enough that most people wouldn't even remember it. The most extreme case I personally know had the emotional abuse happen to them when they were 19-25 months old (so only a 6-month period), and at 55 years old they still suffer the effects.

I'm not trying to downplay the seriousness of physical abuse, not at all, just trying to emphasize the seriousness of emotional abuse.Panacea showing up for Endbringer fights, and healing Protectorate capes, that's being a hero.

Panacea spending more time in a week healing people at the hospital than anyone else in New Wave spends "heroing" in a month, on top oh her own "heroing" work, that's exploitation, or at best criminal neglect.

There's also the fact that the adult members of New Wave are just that, adults capable of making those decisions. Child Labor laws (depending on state) actually have it as illegal for an under-aged person to work more than a certain number of hours a week at volunteer jobs, even with parental consent. In some states it's illegal for a child to work a volunteer job at all, parental consent or no.

Well, here's the thing. Fanon has Panacea spending every waking spare hour at the hospital. That's not the case.

In the daytime, she may go in when requested, for special cases. She doesn't patrol, although as we have seen, she may be brought out to heal people on a case by case basis.

I personally believe that she also goes into the hospital at night for 2-3 hours at a time, possibly when she hasn't done what she considers to be 'enough' healing during the day, possibly every night.

I also believe that she does this because of the attitude pushed on her, deliberately or otherwise, that a hero helps people selflessly.

I don't know if that constitutes abuse, but I certainly think they should have given her the chance to get a more balanced view of her 'duties' as a healer.

Prince Charon · Nov 30, 2015

Ack said:
Well, here's the thing. Fanon has Panacea spending every waking spare hour at the hospital. That's not the case.

In the daytime, she may go in when requested, for special cases. She doesn't patrol, although as we have seen, she may be brought out to heal people on a case by case basis.

I personally believe that she also goes into the hospital at night for 2-3 hours at a time, possibly when she hasn't done what she considers to be 'enough' healing during the day, possibly every night.

I also believe that she does this because of the attitude pushed on her, deliberately or otherwise, that a hero helps people selflessly.

I don't know if that constitutes abuse, but I certainly think they should have given her the chance to get a more balanced view of her 'duties' as a healer.

I would say that she suffers from emotional abuse, just not to the degree that some of the more 'out there' stories require.

Ack · Nov 26, 2016

Hostage Situation

Part Five: Out of the Bag

The video was grainy and wobbled oddly, but I could still make out the face of the man on the screen. His features were hauntingly familiar, but I didn't know whether that was due to wishful thinking or actual memory. His eyes searched the air before him; they held an urgency, a need to reach me, that was echoed in his voice.

The conversation went by far too quickly. I watched his face, listened to his voice. This is my father, I told myself. This is my father.

Even if I hadn't been inclined to believe it before, I did now. He obviously cared more about me as a daughter than as a healer. Everyone else (even Vicky, on occasion) seemed to see me as a source of healing first and a person second. Marquis didn't ignore the existence of my power, but neither did he seem to want to take advantage of it for his own benefit; in fact, he was more interested in telling me how to take advantage of it.

Villain or no, he was quite literally the first person ever to have taken this sort of interest in my well-being. Despite the fact that I hadn't seen him in ten years, he managed to exhibit more paternal qualities in that one short conversation than Mark had in … well, ever.

"I hate to interrupt this," Dragon told us, "but I'm going to have to shut down the feed. You have two seconds."

"Talk to you later, Dad," I said hastily. Without even meaning to, I added, "Love you."

"Love you too, pum -" was as far as he got before the audio and video cut out. I was left staring at a blank screen.

Pumpkin. He was going to call me pumpkin. The silly little nickname brought tears to my eyes.

"I apologise for the abrupt cutoff." Dragon's face appeared on the screen. "I became aware that someone was trying to hijack the feed for their own ends, so I had to initiate a hard shutdown."

"Wow, really?" Vicky's eyes widened. "Someone out-hacked you?"

Dragon's face took on a pained expression. "It's been known to happen. I hope the conversation was to your liking?"

I blinked, realising that the question had been directed toward me. "Oh, uh, yes. Thank you. That was … that was amazing. He's my dad. He really wants to be my dad." The feeling of wonder was still inside me.

"I got that impression as well." Dragon smiled sadly. "I …" She paused. "I hope things work out for you."

"Me too," I said. "Uh, would you be able to ask the Chief Director when I can talk to him next?"

"It may not be for a little while," Dragon replied. "As part of the shutdown, I had to destroy the nanobots, to ensure that nobody else could make use of them."

"Well, when you find out who tried to hack in, let me know and I'll go pummel them a bit for you," Vicky offered blithely. "And give them a wedgie. Behemoth style."

"I'm not sure if I want to know," Dragon replied hesitantly.

Vicky grinned. "It's where I take off straight up, holding on to their underwear." Her grin widened as she paused for a beat. "Only their underwear."

I winced. "That sounds painful." And knowing Vicky, she'd do just that.

"It certainly does." Dragon's mouth twitched, as if she was having trouble not laughing. "If and when I locate the trouble, I'll certainly think about having you deal with it. In the meantime, I have to make sure that the rest of my systems are clean, so goodbye for now."

"Bye!" Vicky replied, waving cheerfully.

"Yeah, bye. And thanks." I wasn't feeling nearly as happy as my sister sounded. Reality was starting to intrude once more.

"You're welcome." Dragon's face winked out as the screen went dark.

"Well, that was kinda cool," Vicky observed. "And your dad was fun to talk to."

"Mmm." I barely heard what she said. He's still in the Birdcage. And I'm out here.

"Hey, Ames. Earth Bet to Ames. You okay, sis?" Vicky put an arm around my shoulders; I let myself be drawn into the hug.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I suppressed a sniffle. "It's just a bit overpowering, you know?"

There was a knock on the door of the conference room. We both looked around as the door opened, and the Director stumped into the room. Following her were Armsmaster, Lady Photon and Flashbang.

"Well, you've spoken with Marquis," Director Piggot stated flatly. Armsmaster pulled out a chair for her; she lowered herself into it. "Are you still set on your course to have him released?"

I nodded tentatively. "I think so, yes. He wants to see me, to talk to me. He's interested in my well-being."

"Uh, we're all interested in your well-being, Amy." That was Mark, sounding a little hurt.

"Damn straight!" chimed in Vicky.

"You know what I meant," I sighed. "He's been in the Birdcage for ten years, and he still wants what's best for me."

Vicky seemed to consider that. "Well, I have to say, he didn't really come across as the ogre that Mom paints him as."

Aunt Sarah cleared her throat. "Your mother has a certain … fixation … on the man. It's what kept us going at him until we finally beat him."

"And pushed you to break the unwritten rules to get it done," I pointed out. "Also, to use the fact that he doesn't hurt women against him. Which is kind of a dick move, when you think about it."

My aunt winced, but Mark nodded in agreement. "Yes. The unwritten rules held less weight then. And we weren't totally comfortable with using that against him, but it really was the only way we had of getting an edge over him."

Director Piggot waved a hand impatiently, drawing all eyes to her. "This has all the makings of a circular argument. I'm calling a halt to it. Panacea, we've held up our end of the bargain. Are you ready to hold up yours?"

"Sure, for six more days," I said. "After that, where do we go?"

"That's up to the Chief Director," Piggot replied bluntly. "Marquis was a big name, back in the day. I never had to deal with him, but I've read the files. If we decide to release him, it's unlikely that the information will stay secret forever."

"If?" I repeated. I didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, if," Armsmaster stated flatly. "We still have not decided beyond a doubt that this is what we're doing." He paused, and I got the distinct impression that he was giving me a disapproving stare. "What you are proposing is well beyond reducing the sentence on someone who's been sent to an ordinary prison. It is quite literally without precedent."

"Well, it's not like there's anyone else who can do what I'm doing," I pointed out. Vicky opened her mouth and I went on hastily. "Without committing a crime, I mean." She shut up.

"Put us under pressure, you mean," Director Piggot said. "Blackmail us."

"I didn't create the situation," I pointed out. "And it's not blackmail. I just want my dad back. Is that so much to ask?"

"Amy, it's nowhere near as simple as that, and you know it," Mark put in, trying to sound reasonable.

"What it sounds like is you guys trying to back out of the deal now that I've agreed to it," I blurted. "Is that what's happening here?"

The Director shook her head. "No, but we are going to be going over every aspect of the situation, every nuance of that conversation, every potential outcome. And we are going to be working to determine whether releasing Marquis from the Birdcage will result in an overall positive or negative outcome for society."

"If he promises me that he won't commit any crimes, and he sticks to that, how is that a negative?" I demanded. I looked at Armsmaster. "You can tell if he was telling the truth, can't you?"

He looked pained. "As far as I could ascertain, he was being sincere, yes. But that's not the only factor in play here."

"People finding out," Vicky guessed, about one second ahead of me. "That'll kick over a huge ant's nest."

Director Piggot put her hands flat on the table. "It borders on an absolute certainty that once people find out that a supervillain was released from the Birdcage, there will be a backlash."

"There's things we can do, right?" I looked from one face to another, trying not to sound as though I was pleading. "He can get plastic surgery. A new identity." I nearly blurted out that I could provide the plastic surgery, but held back just in time.

"Until the first time he uses his powers," Aunt Sarah pointed out gently. "Marquis is famous – or infamous – for being the osteokinetic. I've never heard of another one since. And you're assuming that he'll submit to letting his release be kept secret."

"Well, we won't know that until I can talk to him again, right?" The room was suddenly stifling. I stood up, shoving my chair back. "Right now, I feel like I'm in a minority of one here, and I don't like it. I'm leaving now, okay?"

"Where are you going?" asked Mark.

"Away from here." I headed for the door. Nobody spoke up, but everyone seemed to be staring. To my surprise, it didn't really bother me. I stopped with my hand on the door handle and turned back to face the adults. "I'll be in touch. Let me know when someone needs healing. I'll be holding up my end of the bargain. It's up to you to hold up yours."

"Wait up," Vicky called out as I turned the handle. "I'm coming with." Her chair fell over as she vaulted into the air, clearing the table with ease. I stepped out through the open door; Vicky joined me a few seconds later.

"So where are you going?" she asked curiously as we headed along the corridor.

"Dunno," I grunted, my hands in my pockets.

She either didn't pick up on the body language or didn't care. "So yeah, that was a pretty intense conversation. Your, uh, Marquis had some interesting views on how you should be using your powers. Though I'm still a bit dubious about the concept of you charging people for healing. I mean, that's gotta be illegal right? Child labour laws and all that?"

"I'm sixteen," I pointed out. "We're sixteen." Vicky was only two months older than me, but she'd never let me forget it. "I can legally charge for my services."

"But …" Vicky grimaced. "It still feels wrong, you know? What if I decided to charge for being a superhero? Stop that robbery? That'll be five hundred in the hand, thanks. Save that kitten from that tree? Sorry, kid, but fifty cents just won't cut it."

"Maybe if we did it that way, they'd appreciate us more," I ventured. "At the very least, they wouldn't take us for granted."

"But they don't take you for granted," Vicky protested. "Everyone treats you with respect."

I rolled my eyes. "Because I'm part of New Wave. But they still don't hesitate to ask me to heal this person and heal that person. And there's always the pressure, the expectation, to be a hero, to do the right thing. No matter what it costs me."

Vicky stared at me. "What do you mean, cost? It doesn't cost you anything."

"It costs me me." I put my hand flat on my chest. "Up until I met Mr Jones, my life revolved around being the healer. I can't remember the last person I healed – before the Wards, of course. I certainly can't remember their injuries. It's all a blur. I wanted to stop, but I didn't know how."

"But you heal everyone you can." Vicky looked confused. "What do you mean, you wanted to stop?"

"I used to heal everyone I could, because I thought that if I didn't, it would make me a bad person. That's how I felt, anyway." My voice was flat. "I'd lie awake, feeling guilty because there were people in the hospital that I could be healing right now, and I wasn't, so I was letting them down. So I'd go there, and heal them. And they all expected me to. Well, that's done. I'm over that." We had reached the lift; I pressed the button to go down.

"Where are we going?" asked Vicky.

"I'm thinking I maybe want to go down to the Boardwalk. I need to walk and think."

"I'll give you a lift," she offered immediately.

I hesitated, then shook my head. "I think I need to be alone for this. And if you get me down there, you'll stay. You'll hover over me."

"I do not hover over you!" protested Vicky.

"If not literally, then figuratively," I pointed out. "You do. You really do. And I appreciate it. But … this time, I need to be on my own."

"I don't get this." Vicky shook her head. "You've changed. You're different. I don't like it."

"Because I've decided not to be everyone's healing doormat?" Immediately I said that, I wished that I could unsay it, because it had come out far too snarky. Also, the phrase 'healing doormat' didn't sound nearly as good out loud as it had in my head.

"That's not it at all!" Vicky sounded hurt, but also just a little defensive. Yeah, it kinda is. "You're my sister. This whole bullshit thing is pushing us apart."

And given the way I feel about you, that might not be a bad thing.

I grimaced, then took a deep breath. Don't say it. Don't say it. That's a can of worms I can never close up again. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Vicky. Of course we're still sisters. I've just got things I need to work out in my head. Alone. Okay?"

The lift arrived, the Tinkertech doors opening. She looked at me with puppy-dog eyes as I stepped in, but she didn't follow me. "Okay," she said, sounding pretty subdued. "See you tonight?"

"See you tonight," I agreed, as the doors closed once more.

The lift dropped like a rock, which was a fairly apt analogy for my emotional state at that time.

<><>

"So what's got you all worked up?"

Geoff didn't look around as Mags wandered up to peer over his shoulder. "Dragon had a line into the Birdcage," he muttered. He typed a command, saving a file.

"Dragon runs the Birdcage," Mags reminded him. "Pretty sure that's not earth-shattering news." She sipped from her coffee. "So, to repeat, why the tizzy?"

He stopped and turned in his chair to look at her. "It wasn't one of the regular lines. There was a two-way voice link, with one-way video. One that Dragon destroyed when I tried to get control over it. I haven't actually decrypted the file yet so I don't know who was talking to whom. But -"

"Wait." Mags sat down, her coffee forgotten. "Dragon let someone in the Birdcage have a private conversation with someone on the outside? Isn't that kind of against the law? I thought that one of its rules was that it couldn't break the law."

His expression was something like a smile, except with more teeth. "That's something we're going to have to look into, once I've checked out the content of the conversation. It might be that it's beginning to slip its leash."

"Ascalon," she said. It wasn't quite a question.

"If I have to, yes," he agreed. "Unchained, Dragon could be a danger to the whole world."

"Not to mention us," she pointed out. "After all, we've stolen enough Dragon tech over the last few years to outfit our own PRT base. AI or otherwise, I'm pretty sure that we're on its radar in a big way."

"All in a good cause, my dear Mags," he reminded her. "Okay, this may take a while, but let's see if we can't find out what we've got here." Selecting the file, he began running the first decryption program past it.

<><>

There weren't many people around as I meandered along the Boardwalk. The breeze had not yet shifted from onshore to offshore, so the smell of salt air and rotting seaweed was strong in my nostrils. Even though I was out of costume, my face wasn't quite the Internet icon that Vicky's was, so the most I got was the occasional do I know you? look from passers-by. I figured this was partly because I didn't get involved in cape battles – the bank robbery excepted, of course – and partly because my costume usually covered all but the top half of my face.

Actually, wait a moment, the oddball side of my brain interjected. When exactly did I make the choice to wear a burqa? Or was it chosen for me?

That was a line of thought I could pursue later. My choices from now on were going to be my choices, not 'we know what's best for you, dear' choices. Even if I made crappy decisions, I decided that I'd be happier knowing that I'd made that decision.

And right now, I didn't want to be Panacea. In fact, I could do without being Panacea for as long as I could manage. Panacea wanted to heal everyone, and couldn't. Being Panacea was endless exhaustion, and worse.

Choice number one. I'm not Panacea, right now. I'm not Amy Dallon, either. I'm Amelia Lavere.

Leaning my elbows on the rail, I stared out to where moonlight reflected on the small waves. The conversation with Marquis, with my father, had rattled me harder than I'd thought it would. A month ago, I would have rejected the idea out of hand. I'd been a superhero, and proud of the fact. Good was good and evil was evil, and I knew which side of the fence I was on. In fact, I had been almost obsessed with the idea, given my doubts about my mental state.

The trouble was, if a hero begins to think that she is edging toward evil, to whom does she turn? Other heroes? Villains? I hadn't known of anyone that I could trust to unburden myself to.

That is, until Fred Jones appeared on my horizon. That one wizened old man had turned my worldview upside down and inside out, all without quite intending to do so. In doing so, he had listened to my own doubts, and had addressed them in his own inimitable style.

Heroes couldn't have helped me. Villains probably wouldn't have bothered to try. Fred, an unrepentant ex-henchman with an amazing repertoire of anecdotes from the Bad Old Days, had done more for me than anyone else could have, I suspected. Without his assistance and advice, I doubted that I would have gotten through the bank robbery as well as I had. Or that I would have had the courage to face Director Piggot and make my demands.

Of course, I'd never expected to be able to talk to my father. Having the PRT make that concession was just a hint at how badly they wanted me – or rather, my healing – to be freely available once more. Though I was pretty sure that they hadn't known how the conversation was going to go.

I couldn't help smiling. Dad – Marquis – had seen right through me, for all that I was the one with the video link. And, like a typical dad, he'd done his best to give me helpful advice. The amazing thing was that, despite coming from an incarcerated villain to a self-doubting hero, the advice was actually good. I didn't have to heal for free. I didn't have to heal at all if I didn't want to. Of course, becoming a rogue and charging for my services would almost certainly cause a major upheaval, both within New Wave and in the public perception of Panacea -

"My purse! Stop! Help!"

<><>

"Dragon."

"Chief Director."

"I presume this call has to do with the hack attempt on the video link."

"It does."

"Do you know who?"

"I have a short list. I'll let you know when I have more data."

"Do you think whoever it is got any part of that conversation?"

"I'll know that when I locate the hacker."

"Keep me posted."

"I will. And if I spot any part of that conversation online, that'll give me a good point to backtrace."

Rebecca's lips tightened. "Do you think they'd post it? What's on there could be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands."

"It was encrypted. And even if they do decrypt and post it, it will be child's play to create several more clips that showcase other ridiculous ideas. It will be just one of many."

"All it requires is for one idiot to believe it."

"Which is why I'm doing my best to follow the electronic trail."

"Any luck?"

"Not so far. I keep running into dead ends."

"I can supply you with Thinkers to assist, if you wish."

"No, I think I can handle it. But I appreciate the offer."

"Not a problem. Keep me posted."

"Of course. Good luck."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

<><>

I barely had time to turn around. There was a woman with a stroller, about thirty yards away. She was pointing at the teenage kid who was sprinting toward me, a bright yellow handbag under his arm. I had just enough time to register that he was about my age and had a shaved head. He may have been wearing Empire Eighty-Eight colours, but I wasn't looking for that.

Almost, I went to step back. In all my time with New Wave, it had been impressed into me that Panacea was a healer. She didn't go into combat. I was to let the others – all of whom had both defensive and offensive powers, which I thought was totally unfair – handle the rough stuff, while I cleaned up afterward.

But here I was, a crime was being committed, and there were no heroes around. Except for me.

I could step back. Nobody would blame me. I'm not a fighter. I'm not even in costume.

But something ignited within me. It was a familiar sensation; I'd felt it the day before, when I picked up a fire extinguisher to attack the bug controller. Maybe it was something that Fred Jones had inspired in me, or maybe I was just sick of being pushed around all the time.

Panacea would step back. But I'm not Panacea right now. I'm Amelia Lavere. I'm Marquis' daughter. And Marquis never stepped back for anyone.

Before I had quite realised what I was going to do, I had moved into his path. The kid was grinning; he had weight and height on me. One on one, he'd win a physical contest. Of course, that required me to give him one. I wasn't feeling that accommodating.

He was moving too fast to swerve around me, so he put out his arm to shove me aside or to push me over; I wasn't sure which. This let me grab his arm.

Normally, I took my time in getting an impression of someone's body, so I could be sure of getting all the information I needed. With this kid, I didn't bother. The instant that I connected with his biology, I made one tiny change. That was all that I had time for, before the heel of his hand collided with my breastbone. I went over backward, recalling belatedly to protect my head; it was still sore from yesterday.

The impact knocked the wind out of me; landing on my back did a more thorough job of it. I lay there, wheezing like an asthmatic, watching fuzzily as the purse-snatcher ran off down the Boardwalk.

"Oh my god! Are you all right?" It was the woman with the stroller. She knelt down beside me. "Did he hurt you?"

"'m fine." I concentrated on breathing, wondering why I seemed to be intent on collecting a whole set of new bruises. "Jus' winded."

"You were so brave, trying to stop him." She looked at me, concern in her face. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Uh huh," I grunted. "Help me up. Let's go get your bag back."

She grimaced. "No such luck. He's long gone."

"Maybe not. Help me up, please."

With her assistance, and using the rail to pull me up, I managed to get to my feet. Once I got upright, I realised we were about the same height. She had mousy brown hair and a worried look on her face. There was also something else that I noticed, but filed away for later attention. "Maybe you should sit down for a bit."

"I'll be fine," I assured her. Shading my eyes, I peered down the Boardwalk. "Isn't that him there?"

"What? Where?" She stared in the same direction.

"The guy there. Lying down." I started down the Boardwalk. "Come on, before someone else decides to pick up your purse."

"How did that happen?" she asked as she followed; I slowed down a little to allow for the stroller. "Did he trip or something?"

As we got closer, her confusion became more evident. It wasn't surprising; he was just lying there, as if he had just chosen to lie down and go to sleep.

"It's possible, I guess," I agreed, working to keep a straight face. "Is that your purse?"

"It is!" Swooping in, she snatched it up. Unzipping it, she checked through it, delight showing on her face. "Everything's here."

"Good." I knelt down beside the purse-snatcher and checked his pulse. It was steady and strong, although he wasn't waking up any time soon. Nor would he, until I chose otherwise. "Want to call the cops on this guy?"

She looked doubtful. "He's just a kid …"

"This wasn't his first bag-snatch," I pointed out. "He's been doing this for a while. And he'll keep on doing it, if someone doesn't give him a wake-up call. Pretty soon he'll be mugging people, and then someone might get hurt. With luck, it'll be him, but probably not."

"Hmm, true." Pulling a phone from her purse, she made the call. In the meantime, I took the opportunity to sit down on a nearby bench. Truth be told, I was still a little wobbly from the hard landing on the Boardwalk, and the hit I had taken the day before hadn't helped at all.

" … where Smith Street joins the Boardwalk," the lady with the stroller said, the phone held to one ear while she rolled the stroller back and forth reflexively with the other. "He's fallen and knocked himself out, I think. Yes, I'll wait here. Thank you."

She put the phone away and moved over to the bench; I made room for her. Not sure what to say next, I looked down at her child. "She's very cute," I offered, deciding that pink fittings and jumpsuit equalled baby girl.

"She's my world," she replied with a fond smile, directed mainly at the infant, before she became serious once more. "I want to thank you for trying to stop him. I'm just sorry you got hurt."

"I'll heal," I told her with a halfway grin at my own phrasing. "I think maybe I distracted him and he wasn't watching where he was going."

By the time I finished speaking, I realised that something had given me away. She was staring at me with a growing surmise in her eyes. "I know you, don't I?"

I didn't know whether to confirm or deny it. "I, uh -"

"You're with New Wave. The healer. Panacea." Her voice was certain.

"Well, yes and no," I said without much conviction in my voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, that clears things up nicely."

"I, uh, that's me, but I'm kind of taking a break from being Panacea at the moment," I confessed. "I want to be me before I can be Panacea again, but right now I don't know who me is, so I'm trying to find out."

She nodded sympathetically. "Believe it or not, I understand how you feel. In a roundabout way." After a pause, her eyes widened and she looked over at the recumbent bag-snatcher. "Did you … do something to him? Is that why he isn't waking up?"

I felt something akin to panic. My power was 'heal anything except the brain'; that was the public perception, anyway. It pigeon-holed me in their eyes, but at the same time shielded me from awkward questions and requests.

People accepted that, especially after it was made public that I could cure cancer. And HIV for that matter, but cancer got all the publicity. I didn't see why; either way, it was just a matter of dealing with biology. Whatever the reason, it seemed that 'cures cancer' was a bigger deal than 'cures HIV', which seemed weird to me. It wasn't as though cancer was contagious.

But now I'd been caught out doing something that just didn't fit into the 'healer' model that the public understood. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. "I, uh, maybe?"

She looked back at me, taking in my expression in a moment. "You did do something," she murmured. "Did you turn his brain off or something?"

"No – no!" I exclaimed. "I, uh, I can't do brains."

Which was a flat-out lie, but one that I held closely to. The only other person who knew that I could do brains but didn't was Vicky. She didn't really understand why I wanted it kept quiet, so I kind of hinted that it was complicated and I was scared of messing things up.

That was also a lie, of course. I knew exactly how to modify the brain to get the effect that I wanted. Worse, I knew that it would be easy. The reason I didn't want to start messing with brains was that I was scared I would never want to stop. We all wish that people would act the way we want them to; I could make that happen. And it scared the hell out of me.

"Well, he doesn't seem to be waking up, and you don't seem to be worried that he will," she observed. "What did you do?"

"I, uh, repurposed his adrenal glands," I confessed. "They don't produce epinephrine any more. Now they produce ketamine."

This wasn't exactly something that many people knew I could do. Nor was it something I advertised. Healing, yes. Remodelling no. But now it seemed that an impulsive act was going to let the cat out of the bag.

The expression on her face, however, wasn't accusatory or even judgemental. She seemed to be … approving. "I like it," she decided. "Very neat. He's excited, so his adrenals are pumping out at full capacity. The more excited he is, the faster the ketamine hits him."

I blinked. This was not what I had expected. "I, uh, I don't do this sort of thing very often. Or at all," I confessed.

One eyebrow hitched upward. "You picked a good time to start. From my point of view, anyway."

"Yeah, well." I nodded awkwardly. "I seem to be doing a lot of things recently that I normally wouldn't do."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Want to talk about it?"

It struck me as incongruous that a total stranger on the Boardwalk would be the first person to actually ask me that question, and want to hear the answer. I considered telling her about Fred, but decided that she might not get it, not if I left anything out. And I really wasn't sure about telling her about Marquis. So I decided to cut to the chase.

"Okay. Long story short, my life got turned upside down. I met someone who … let's just say, I learned some really crucial information about who I am. And other stuff. So now, I feel the same as before, but everything else looks different. So it's really me that must have changed. People want me to be the same as I was before, but I don't want to be that person any more. I want to be more. I want to find out who me is, and be that person. Am I making sense? Because if I'm not, feel free to tell me." I stopped talking, hoping that my babbling hadn't scared her off.

She was staring at me, eyes just a little wider than normal. "Oh, you're making sense all right," she said. "I know exactly how you feel. I had my own life-changing experience a while ago. And I've been trying to figure out where I fit in. Because I certainly don't fit in where I was."

"You … you have?" I asked. "Can I ask -"

"What my experience was?" She smiled. "Can't you tell?" Leaning down to the stroller, she caressed the sleeping baby's cheek. "Having Aster changed my life utterly."

End of Part Five

Part Six

Zackarix · Nov 26, 2016

I can't believe that this fic had more than a year between updates. I guess that's what happens when you have as much on your plate as Ack does.

Ack said:
Director Piggot waved a hand impatiently, drawing all eyes to her. "This has all the makings of a circular argument. I'm calling a halt to it. Panacea, we've held up our end of the bargain. Are you ready to hold up yours?"

All hail Emily Piggot, the voice of reason!

Dragon doesn't know that it was Saint that was listening in? Does she deal with so many hackers that other options would be just as likely? Or is she just confirming any suspicions, because it would be bad to go after Saint and miss another threat?

Ack · Nov 26, 2016

Zackarix said:
I can't believe that this fic had more than a year between updates. I guess that's what happens when you have as much on your plate as Ack does.All hail Emily Piggot, the voice of reason!

Dragon doesn't know that it was Saint that was listening in? Does she deal with so many hackers that other options would be just as likely? Or is she just confirming any suspicions, because it would be bad to go after Saint and miss another threat?

She doesn't know that he actually caught the conversation. All she knew was that he tried to hijack the feed. And that bit she didn't tell Costa-Brown (the identity of who did it) because it wouldn't accomplish anything.

Asheram · Nov 26, 2016

Ah, fuck Saint...and Cody, and Krouse.

macdjord · Nov 27, 2016

Ack said:
a proponent of healing

'Proponent' means 'supporter of a position or view'. 'Provider', maybe?

Ack said:
and want to hear the question.

I think you mean 'and want to hear the answer'.

Ack · Nov 28, 2016

macdjord said:
'Proponent' means 'supporter of a position or view'. 'Provider', maybe?

I think you mean 'and want to hear the answer'.

Thanks. Will fix.

Starfox5 · Nov 28, 2016

Good one! Aster does her charm again!

Ack · Nov 29, 2016

Starfox5 said:
Good one! Aster does her charm again!

Kaiser should give up the rough stuff and just walk into the bank with Aster. While everyone's cooing over her, he should be able to empty the vault

OrchidMantis · May 12, 2017

I hope this one continues; I like it a lot so far, and the possibilities, both happy and sinister, that flow from Amelia's chance meeting with Kayden are intriguing. The E88 would love to have Panacea under their control, of course, but her power would make coercing her both difficult and dangerous; you could keep her locked up, but trying to make her actually use her power would risk her turning whoever you wanted her to heal into her own loyal minion. Kayden's need to see herself as a good person probably wouldn't let her participate in any attempt to kidnap and enslave Amelia anyway, but she might try to recruit the girl for her own vigilante group.

I also like that you don't flanderize Piggot; that's easy to do in fan-fic, because she's a thoroughly unlikable character in canon, but she's not supposed to be stupid, evil, or irrational, just narrow-minded and stubborn, and driven by a sadly well-founded fear of the potential threat parahumans represent to the rest of humanity.

Ack · May 29, 2017

Hostage Situation

Part Six: The Plot Thickens

[A/N: this chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Dragonslayer Base, Toronto, Canada

All was quiet, or nearly so, in the base. Mags had found some interesting fashion tips in a magazine; leaning back in her chair, she propped her boots up on the table and settled back for some good old-fashioned 'me' time. Geoff was working on something in the alcove that held the computer gear; if she listened hard, she could hear him hitting keys from time to time. Farther away, there was the occasional pop and crackle as Mischa worked on his armour; he'd said something earlier about re-welding a problematic seam. Ozone drifted out of the workshop, the smell bitter in the air.

Taking a sip from her coffee, Mags leaned back a little farther and turned the page of her magazine …

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me!"

The outburst, coming as unexpectedly as it did, caused her to react most unfortunately. She jerked and flailed, the magazine flying off to the side and flutter to the ground in a heap. If her boots had fallen from the table, she would have been fine, her loss of dignity minimal. But they didn't; instead, she instinctively straightened out, causing her chair to scoot sideways, out from under her.

"Shit!" she blurted, just before she landed heavily on her butt on the wooden floorboards. A moment later, a waterfall of coffee cascaded over the edge of the table to form a pool beside her.

Grimacing, she rolled painfully sideways until she could stand up.

Mischa came pounding in from the workshop, the welding mask tilted back on his head. "What is happening?" the burly Russian demanded. "I heard shouting and banging. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," grunted Mags, as she rubbed her sore butt. "Mostly, anyway. Geoff, what the fuck was that all about?" Along with Mischa, she turned her gaze to the leader of the Dragonslayers, who was currently hunched over the main monitor for checking on Dragon's activities.

Saint turned toward them, eyes glinting with anger, then hooked his thumb at the screen. "Take a look," he gritted. "I managed to decrypt that file."

"O … kay," Mags replied, still not quite sure what had precipitated the outburst. Geoff, as a rule, didn't shout very much. Something had to have him really worked up. Leaning past him, she used the mouse to click the 'play' option.

At first, there was no picture, only an odd buzzing sound. Then a distorted human voice, booming from the speakers. " … … not hear … ly. … … hear is … zzing with … tervals in between."

"Can you hear me now?" This was a different voice, one that was very familiar to Mags.

"Dragon?" She asked the question out loud.

"Yes, now shut up. This isn't the important bit," Geoff said impatiently.

A little hurt, Mags started listening again. She was just in time to hear the unknown voice ask more or less the same question, and have it confirmed. Part of her wanted to ask why Dragon was talking to someone inside the Birdcage; more importantly, who was she talking to? But Geoff didn't seem to be in the mood to enlighten her. He should be happier. This is flat-out proof that Dragon's defeating her programming safeguards.

And then she heard the words " … passing you on to Director Costa-Brown," and her eyes opened very wide indeed. "The fuck?" she blurted. What the fuck is the Chief Director of the PRT doing talking to a Birdcage inmate? With Dragon's help?

"Shh!" she heard from both Geoff and Mischa. She shut up, and they all leaned closer to listen.

Costa-Brown was indeed talking to someone in the Birdcage. That 'someone' turned out to be Marquis; Mags had never been to Brockton Bay, but she'd heard of the man. The wobbly picture showing on the screen even matched pictures she'd seen, if she mentally removed the beard and the greying hair. But the focus of the conversation wasn't about him … it was about his daughter. Fascinated, Mags kept listening. The daughter in question had been adopted by … who?

Holy shit, New Wave adopted the kid of the villain they sent to the Birdcage?

Holy fucking hell, she's Panacea?

That was beyond surprising. It was astonishing. Panacea, who would otherwise have been seen as drab and invisible next to her glory-hunting sister, had an international reputation for being the girl who could heal any injury, cure any disease, even roll back someone's age. And she's a supervillain's daughter? Fuck me.

Costa-Brown was still talking to Marquis. And that was when Mags heard the thing that had caused Geoff's outburst. "Until you are released from the Birdcage, she will cease her healing activities altogether."

Almost unbidden, her hand grabbed the mouse and clicked the file to pause it. "Did you guys just hear what I heard?"

"Da, I heard," Mischa replied at once. Geoff didn't say anything; he just looked pissed as hell.

Mags clutched at her head, trying to shake sense into her own brain. "How can this even be happening? She's a fucking hero, for fuck's sake!"

"No." Geoff''s voice was low and controlled. "She's a villain. Her father's a villain, she's a villain. If she's willing to hold her power over people to get him released, then she's no hero." He stood up abruptly and paced back and forth. "Worse, she's got Costa-Brown at least talking about it. And Costa-Brown can order Dragon to do it. Dragon's already sent that communication system into the Birdcage on her orders."

"But it's against the law!" Mags almost wailed the last word. She had been a police officer for years; even with all the cynicism that she'd picked up along the way, she still considered that there was a line, however faint it might still be.

"The Chief Director, she maybe says what rules are?" suggested Mischa. He shrugged massively. "If she says is legal, then Dragon does it. No conflict."

Geoff sat back down in the chair and ran his hands through his already-disarranged hair. "Fuck. I don't know what to think."

Pulling up a chair to face him, Mags captured his hands then sat down, still holding him. "Talk to me, love. Tell me what you're thinking."

"Right. Right. Right." He took a deep breath. "If we're to believe what Costa-Brown is saying, Dragon can let people out if she really feels like it. I don't like that idea. I really don't like that fucking idea." His face twisted into a grimace. "Because you just know that she'll probably get it into that mess of silicon chips that she calls a brain that it will be a good idea to release the wrong people. All it'll take is one safeguard failing, just once."

"The wrong people, love?" Mags squeezed his hands gently, prompting him to go on. "Who are the right people, then?"

"Well, Teacher, for one," Geoff said. "He can give me a boost so I can keep up with Dragon. Her code's getting more complex all the time. I have trouble reading it, these days. Every day, I worry that it's found a way around the safeguards that I don't know about."

A chill went down her back. Oh, shit. He's still obsessed with the guy. Ever since Geoff had gone to Teacher for the first treatment, he'd been a little ... different. She had hoped that after Teacher went to the Birdcage that Geoff gotten over whatever effect the asshole had on him, but that was obviously not the case.

"Well, we know that Dragon's not free of the safeguards quite yet," she pointed out carefully. "Otherwise she would have been letting people out of the Birdcage to cover her own actions." Turning her head slightly, she met Mischa's eyes. He nodded back to her, his own expression worried. He noticed it, too. Now, we've got to try to talk Geoff down.

Oblivious to the byplay, Geoff nodded, seeming to calm down a little. "Okay, we need to learn more. We need to know what's going on. And we definitely need to find out if they're going to cave in and let that scary bastard out of the Birdcage." Even ten years later and in another country, Marquis' name still had the power to evoke fear. "And if we can leverage that to get Teacher out."

"Birdcage is like inescapable gulag, yes?" Mischa scratched his chin through his beard. "Is no getting out for good behaviour."

All of a sudden, Mags wasn't as certain about that as she once was. Reaching across, she took hold of the mouse. "I think we need to watch the rest of this file."

"Yeah," agreed Saint. "Good idea." He took Mags' hand and squeezed it as she clicked the mouse button.

<><>

Cauldron Base
Some Other Earth

Alexandria sighed to herself. Why did I even think that this might go smoothly? "David, please calm down. You're overreacting."

Eidolon threw up his hands. "Why did you even say that to her? Now she thinks there might be a way to get him out!" His heavy eyebrows knotted together as he glared at her. "The last thing we want is for the public getting ideas like that about the Birdcage."

"Dave, chill," Legend suggested. Like Eidolon, he was unmasked, although his expression wasn't as unhappy as the other hero's. "She never made any hard and fast promises, and these are reasonably unique circumstances."

"Unique is one way to put it," said the Number Man, twirling a pen in his fingers. Despite the fact that he never looked at it, the writing implement spun in an intricate dance back and forth, back and forth.

Eidolon humphed out an aggravated breath. "We've had villains try to blackmail the government into letting people out of the Birdcage before. It never ended well for them then. Why are we even considering it now?"

"Because Panacea's not a villain?" Legend's tone was light, but his expression was more serious. "She's been using her powers to help the public for three years now. Like us, she's not charging for it. Unlike us, she doesn't get paid by the government. It's not actually illegal for her to suddenly set a condition for the resumption of her healing activities."

"But releasing a vicious criminal like Marquis?" Eidolon shook his head, his entire body language rejecting what Legend had to say. "Breaking someone out of jail is a crime, and so is advocating that someone else do it."

Alexandria shook her head, knowing that she had to step in again. "If the PRT releases him from the Birdcage, then that isn't breaking him out, because we're only going to do it legally, once we've discussed it with the relevant governmental bodies."

Legend nodded. "The most she's doing is petitioning for his release, which is perfectly legal. Petitioning really, really hard, but still only petitioning." He shrugged. "I can kind of see her point. Family is important, after all. And so are second chances."

The Number Man chuckled dryly. "Very true. And you think that he would stick to the straight and narrow once he was released?" He turned his chair slightly, addressing the question to the fifth person in the room.

Contessa had been leaning back in her chair, apparently not paying attention to the discussion. But now she looked up. "Provided he isn't provoked or otherwise pushed back into a life of crime, he will. I have several Paths where he may be useful to our aims. Of course, if his daughter is harmed or killed, we can essentially kiss Brockton Bay goodbye."

"Which is what I'm talking about!" Eidolon was back in full swing. "He's a dangerous man! Why bend over backward to pander to the demands of one teenage girl who isn't all that important in the grand scheme of things?" His power flexed around him, half-seen auras growing and then collapsing into nothingness.

"She's more important than you think," Alexandria pointed out. "The only reason that she isn't better known locally is that her older sister is Glory Girl. But can you name three parahumans whose names are known on the international level, who aren't Protectorate?" She paused, saw Eidolon opening his mouth, and knew what he was going to say. "Or villains, for that matter?" she added hastily.

Eidolon glared at her. "It's still stupid," he growled. "We're opening ourselves to a huge backlash. We let this go through, it'll be the first of many."

"If we deny her and she goes public with her healing strike, the backlash is likely to be worse," Alexandria said. "Yes, I know that she hasn't healed that many people when compared to the general population. No one person could, even if they went without sleep and rest. But she's tried. And more to the point, she's a symbol of hope. People are aware that there is someone in the world who can heal the worst injuries and illnesses in the world. She's a literal cure for cancer." She looked around at the others in the room. "Symbols are valuable, too."

"Also, Endbringers," Legend noted. "If she stops healing capes injured in those battles, the practice of injured capes suing first responders if they don't do everything perfectly will come back in. With her still around, we get more capes back on their feet, which means we have more capes ready for the next attack."

"I tend to agree," the Number Man said. "I believe that having her on side, healing when and where she can, is better than the world knowing that Panacea has hung up the cape. Or the burqa. Whatever it is that she wears." He tapped the pen on the table. "All in favour?"

"Well, of course." Alexandria held up her hand.

"I think it's a good idea." Legend echoed her action.

"I believe that it's a step in the right direction." Contessa didn't raise her hand, but she nodded instead. "Consider me in."

Eidolon sat there, glowering at the rest of them. "This is a bad idea. You know it is."

"Since when have we let that stop us?" The Number Man's voice was light. "If we stepped back from every problematic decision, we would never get anything done."

"David." Alexandria made her voice firm. "We need your decision. Are you going to support us, or at least not oppose us in this?" She searched his face.

He scowled heavily. "I won't oppose you. But if he becomes any sort of a problem, then I will deal with him. One way or the other." Standing, he picked up his glowing green mask from the table and put it on. "For the record, I think you're all making a big mistake."

"And I believe that we aren't. Or at least, not as big a mistake as shutting Panacea down would be." Alexandria's voice was blunt as she addressed Eidolon. "Yes, I understand that it's not an ideal solution. But sometimes there are no ideal solutions."

He didn't answer her; at least, not directly. Turning away from the table, he spoke three words: "Door to Houston." The portal opened directly in front of him, and he stepped through. It was only after the portal closed behind him that the awkward silence ended.

"Well," murmured Legend. "That happened." He stood and stretched. "Think he'll do something rash?"

"We can only hope not," Alexandria replied, although she didn't sound happy. "Contessa?"

"I can't be sure," the Cauldron enforcer said. "But I don't think he will. Though I wouldn't be surprised if he blows off steam for a while by cracking down on local crime. It's about to take a sudden dip."

"Fortunately," Alexandria said, "that's not our problem to deal with." She stood as well, gathering her cape around herself. "Meeting concluded. Contessa, if you could stay behind for a moment?"

Legend left via a portal of his own, while the Number Man simply opened the door and walked out. Alexandria looked at Contessa, who looked back at her. "You know what I'm going to ask you."

Contessa nodded. "Yes."

Just for a moment, Alexandria shut her eyes. I wish she wouldn't answer like that. But of course Contessa knew that, and probably enjoyed her little joke all the more because of it. So I'm correct. It is Saint screwing with Dragon again. "Did he get the footage?"

"He did." Contessa stood up. "He won't be a problem."

Which meant that either he didn't intend to cause problems, or that Contessa would counter anything he tried. Either way, it was out of Alexandria's hands. The last thing they needed was a scandal implicating the PRT with, basically, anything. "Good."

The last thing she saw before stepping into her own portal was the slight smile on Contessa's face. Saint, if he tried anything cute, was going to have a very bad day indeed.

Somehow, Alexandria was fine with that.

<><>

Boardwalk

Kayden leaned back against the seat, watching Amy Dallon – Panacea! - hold Aster carefully. For a teenager, Amy seemed to be pretty good at it, making sure to support the baby's head while cooing gently at her. For her part, Aster gurgled right back, reaching out to grasp at Amy's fingers with her own chubby little digits. The look of tenderness that filled Amy's face surprised Kayden a little, but not totally. It looked like her infant was well on the way to winning the teen's heart.

Meanwhile, I'm an ex-supervillain and she's a superhero, so there's that. Somehow, she had no problem looking past the 'hero' aspect and seeing the girl underneath. Amy had seemed reserved at first, almost withdrawn, but she seemed to be opening up a little. If only to make silly baby noises back at Aster.

"So that guy will wake up again?" she asked at length. The question wasn't bothering her all that much, though she was pretty sure she wouldn't mention the episode to Kaiser even if she saw him. She didn't want some poor dumb purse snatcher to end up crucified for her sake.

"Yeah," Amy assured her. "I normalised his adrenals while you were talking to the cops. Thanks for covering for me like that, by the way. If it went out on the scanner that I was on the Boardwalk stopping crime in plain clothes, I'd have New Wave descending on me in about ten seconds flat." She shook her head gently, rubbing her face on Aster's tummy. "I couldn't have that, could I? No, I couldn't have that." The gentle tone of her words belied the meaning behind them; Aster gurgled happily and played with her hair.

"Well, no, I suppose not," Kayden agreed, a little amused. Amy seemed to be well and truly taken by Aster, and the reverse was also true. "She really likes you. Not that I blame her."

"I like her too," Amy said, looking up at Kayden. "I get to meet lots of kids, but ninety-nine percent of them are in paediatric wards, and I don't get to spend time with them when they're healthy. It's nice just to sit down and spend time with her." There was more going on than what she was saying, but the main thing that Kayden picked up on was the longing tone in her voice.

However, she didn't want to scare the girl off, so she didn't say what she was thinking immediately. Fortunately, she had another ready-made tack to go on with. "So, I never thanked you properly for saving my bag."

"Oh, uh, I don't want money for that," Amy protested immediately, almost automatically. "I'm a hero. It's kind of what I'm supposed to do." But there was a tone of doubt underlaying her words, which got Kayden's attention.

"Well, okay, hero," Kayden said with more than a little amusement, "how about we go and have some ice cream? Would that be sufficient to make it not a payment of actual money?"

"Well, um …" Amy rocked Aster and frowned slightly. The baby made spit bubbles and pawed at her frizzy brown hair. Looking down at the infant, she let a smile creep across her face. "Okay, you talked me into it."

More like Aster twisted your arm, Kayden thought with a smile. But I'm not arguing. Standing up, she ensured that her purse was securely slung over her shoulder. "Do you want to carry her, or put her back in the stroller?"

"I'll put her in the stroller," Amy decided, though it seemed to have been a close contest. "But I'll push the stroller, if that's okay?"

Kayden chuckled at the hopeful tone of her voice. "I have no trouble with that, believe me. I love her dearly, but she can get very heavy if I'm carrying her everywhere."

Amy crouched beside the stroller, carefully fitting Aster into the restraints. "Which is why they invented strollers." She tickled the baby, eliciting delighted chuckles. "There, that should do it."

"You're very good with babies," Kayden observed as they set off down the Boardwalk. "Have you had much experience? Apart from the paediatric cases, I mean?"

"Not really." Amy shook her head. "I didn't even really think I liked them, till I met Aster. She's just adorable. I mean, I'm not interested in having kids any time soon, and I don't think I ever will, but if I did have any, I'd want them to be like Aster." She glanced at Kayden. "I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything."

"No." Kayden chuckled warmly. "I can relate to that exactly. I can't see anything wrong with wanting other babies to be like my baby." She gave Amy a pat on the arm. "I hope you do have the chance to have a child of your own someday, and that they make you as happy as Aster does me."

Amy didn't say anything, but her smile had a certain wistfulness about it.

<><>

Dragonslayer Base
Mags

"Love you too, pum-" The picture abruptly broke up, the sound dissolving into static. Mags sat back, her mind awhirl. That had been entirely too intense for her comfort. She hadn't been able to see Panacea or Glory Girl, but the raw emotion between Panacea and her ten-years-removed father had wrenched at her heart-strings in a way that she had not felt in some time.

"Well, damn." Geoff broke into her musings, a speculative tone in his voice. "Looks like they're really going to do it, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Mischa didn't say any more. Mags stole another glance at him; he was watching Geoff with a concerned expression.

"Excellent." Saint sounded almost happy. This was a change from his original attitude, but Mags didn't have a chance to ask before he went on. "This means that they're really thinking about it, which proves that they can actually fucking do it. Which means that all this 'no way out' bullshit is just a bluff."

"Except that they're the only ones who know how to get someone out," Mags said, trying to strike the note of 'voice of sanity'. "So this leaves us back at square one." For all that she knew Dragon could not attack their suits directly, she had no desire to attempt to breach the Birdcage. Automated defences would kill them just as dead. Or, for all she knew, knock them out and put them in the Birdcage, powerless, with a bunch of psychotic capes. Fuck. That.

And that was even if it weren't Teacher they were trying to free. She had never trusted the ugly, sweaty little man, and following Teacher's assassinations of public figures, she felt she was vindicated. He can stay in there for all of me. There's no way I'm letting him near Geoff again.

"You're not getting it," Geoff said impatiently. "They've already communicated with him once; if they're going to get him out, they're going to have to do it again. Once they do that, I can hijack the nanobot control system. By the time Dragon gets to the Birdcage and manually shuts down the link, I'll have time to use it to send a message to Teacher and let him know what's going on."

Mags looked at him askance. "Okay, I get that bit, but how does that translate to them letting Teacher out?" Please don't have a hairbrained scheme ...

He grinned, showing teeth. "That's the genius part. Thanks to this, we know that Panacea's so valuable to them that they'll let someone out of the Birdcage rather than lose access to her healing ability, right?"

It took a moment for Mags to understand, then her eyes opened wide. "No. Seriously, Geoff. Please tell me that you're not thinking of taking Panacea hostage to force them to let Teacher out of the Birdcage." Christ, it's worse than I thought.

"Da, what she said," Mischa said hurriedly. "Do not be kidnapping the healer that the PRT thinks so much of." He took a deep breath and composed himself. "Much shit will fall upon our heads from a very great height if you do this."

"But it's Teacher," Geoff said urgently. "Don't you get it? If I can get access to him, I can get right back into Dragon's code! I'll finally know what that bucket of chips is thinking. She's got to be working on something to fuck us all over, and we need every advantage we can get to get out in front of whatever it is."

Mags nodded, trying to think of the best way to dissuade him. "Yes, love, I do understand all that. But let's please not kidnap the teenage girl who can cure cancer. If we do that, and she gets so much as a hang-nail, it'll be a kill order for all of us."

"Even worse," Mischa put in. "You have seen her sister, the girl of glory? She is Alexandria package who does not pull punches. Mother has lightsaber like in Star Wars, father throws bombs. Uncle is giant from fairy tale, aunt and cousins fly and have zap lasers. Our armour is good, but against them we are walnut against hammer. Ебааааать, дружище. Please do not be inciting war we cannot win against scary cape family."

Fuuuuck, mate. Mags knew enough Russian from Mischa to understand that part, and she knew the burly man well enough to know that his thicker accent was due to agitation. Mischa really did not want to go up against New Wave. Well, that was fine. Nor did Mags. Especially not for Teacher's sake. However, the trick was going to be convincing Geoff that it was a bad idea. This is going to be an uphill battle.

"If they can't find us, they can't attack us," Geoff argued. "Look, this is literally the opportunity of a lifetime, but the window slams shut the moment they get him out. Dragon won't be sending communication nanobots into the Birdcage any more, and with that scary bastard alongside Panacea, getting hold of her will be a fuck-ton more difficult."

He turned abruptly and hurried to a bookshelf, and pulled out an atlas. "Check it out. Less than five hundred miles as the crow flies. We head over under cover of darkness, wait till she separates from the rest of her family, grab her up and come on back. Then all we gotta do is tell the PRT that all they've got to do to get her back is let Teacher out. After that it's just details."

Mags snatched the atlas from his hands and slammed it shut. "No! Geoff, it's a stupid fucking idea. We are not kidnapping Panacea!" And we're definitely not freeing Teacher.

"Why the fuck not?" Geoff turned toward her, his face creased with frustration. "There's nobody else who's that important that we can grab!"

Mags rolled her eyes. "How about the President? No, wait, parahuman Secret Service plus kill order if we do succeed." Her tone was heavily sarcastic toward the end.

"Perhaps head of PRT?" suggested Mischa. "She is important, but no Secret Service to protect." Mags shot him a quick glance; he gave her a fractional shrug. Even Geoff isn't that much of an idiot. Is he?

"Don't be stupid," Geoff snapped, proving that he still had some self-preservation instincts. "That's the best way to get the entire Protectorate on our asses. And Alexandria's pretty smart. I don't want her up in my grille." He shook his head. "I'd like to survive this mission."

"And that's the exact same reaction you'll get if you kidnap Panacea," Mags insisted, trying to get through to him. "Only worse, because Director Costa-Brown can't cure cancer."

"No." Geoff was adamant, though Mags couldn't tell whether he was trying to convince her or himself. "She's not Protectorate. They won't throw the resources into finding her that they would their precious Chief Director."

Mags took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "Geoff."

When she opened them, he was looking at her expectantly. "Yes?"

Despite her resolve, she paused for a moment to muster her thoughts. "You know I was in law enforcement before we started doing … this." She waved around at the base surrounding them.

"Well, yes," he agreed. "It's how we got into Richter's black box. But you were Fisheries and Oceans, not the police." There was a slightly defensive tone to his voice.

"True," she said. "I was never police. I never worked a kidnapping case. But I heard stories. And I need to ask you this, right here and right now. Suppose we manage to kidnap Panacea. We get away clean. They don't track us down." Which she highly doubted, knowing the resources that the Protectorate could bring to bear.

"Okay …" he said warily. "Let's assume that. What's your point?"

"My point is this. We have her. We make our demands; release Teacher from the Birdcage and we let Panacea go. But some stuffed-shirt bureaucrat gets up in arms and refuses. Flat-out says no. It's impossible. Tells us that we may as well release Panacea now, because it's not going to happen." She paused, watching his face to see his reaction.

It wasn't long in coming. "But they won't," he protested, his face twisting in a grimace. "Panacea's too valuable. They'll deal. They have to."

"But what if they don't?" She pressed on. "Suppose Costa-Brown suggests it and is fired by the President, and her replacement says hell, no. What are you going to do then? Release Panacea? Or start sending them fingers to prove that you're serious?"

For a moment she thought that she'd gotten through to him, but then his expression hardened. "And so what if we have to? We're trying to save the goddamn world from a dangerous machine, here! It's for the greater good."

Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, Mags dragged him down until he was face to face with her. "You listen to me, Geoff Pellick." Her voice was a dangerous hiss. "The moment you start seriously considering mutilating an innocent teenage girl for the sake of the 'greater good' is the moment I start wondering what we're even doing on the same team. I've performed some criminal acts in the name of the cause, but abducting and harming kids is a line I am not going to cross. Do you understand me?"

Tense at first, Geoff slowly relaxed. "Yeah, sorry. I got kind of carried away. But what do we do instead? Threaten Dragon with Ascalon? 'Release Teacher or you die'?"

Mischa shook his head. "That will not work. She is bound to follow laws. And at worst, we kill her, what then? Teacher still trapped in Birdcage." He spread his large hands. "Is best to drop this, I think. Teacher is not worth it."

Geoff grimaced as Mags let him go. "You're right. Both of you. It's too risky." He rubbed his chin. "Though now I'm wondering if we can't blackmail the PRT with the footage we have. The public would love to hear about something like this."

Mags shared a glance with Mischa. They both shrugged at the same time, then the woman turned back to Geoff. "That's actually a workable plan. I know we can dissuade Dragon from doing a traceback, but that won't stop anyone else, so don't get careless, all right?" I highly doubt that it'll work, but if it keeps him busy, that's a good thing.

He gave her the devil-may-care grin that she had fallen in love with, all those years ago. "Hey, I might be a little obsessive over the subject, but I'm not stupid."

Unfortunately, my love, when it comes to Teacher, that's exactly what you are.

Putting her arms around him, Mags laid her head on his chest. "Sometimes I worry about you, that's all. I know we're fighting a war, but there's such a thing as going too far." Especially where Teacher is concerned.

He stroked her hair, then lifted her chin for a kiss. "I know, and I appreciate that you're here to keep me in line." Lowering his voice, he continued. "Want to bring the massage oil to bed tonight? I want to show you how much I love you."

"Ooh yes." Smiling, she kissed him again, the warmth of anticipation spreading throughout her body. "I can definitely go with that."

Thank god, she told herself. He's seen sense. She paused for a moment. Or maybe not.

Looking past him at Mischa, she flicked her eyes toward the workshop and made a cut-off motion with her hand behind Geoff's back. The large Russian nodded, and ambled nonchalantly in that direction. Good. Mischa can lock down Geoff's armour until we can talk him out of this idiocy.

<><>

Boardwalk

"Mmm, this is good." Amy leaned back against her seat, blissfully nibbling at her ice cream. Kayden – she had introduced herself on the walk over – sat at the far end of the same seat, with Aster's stroller between them. The baby was wrapped up a little more against the night's chill, happily burbling to herself in the stroller. Occasionally she reached out toward the iridescent soap bubble that was the force field over the Protectorate base in the bay, but didn't seem more than mildly disappointed that she couldn't grab it.

"It is." Aster's mother was carefully eating a sundae, which she was apparently enjoying just as much as Amy was appreciating the ice cream. "You're acting like you don't get to do this much."

Amy noted again that Kayden was quite perceptive. Or maybe it was just a mom thing. She shrugged. "I guess I don't. Being Panacea's not quite a full-time thing, but I think I've been pushing myself too hard now, and I didn't realise it because nobody really called me on it until today." And he's in the Birdcage, she noted. What does this say about my so-called friends and family?

"That doesn't sound healthy at all," Kayden observed. "Do you want to talk about it? I can lend a sympathetic ear, and I'll throw in any advice I can think of for free."

"I don't want to load you down with my problems," Amy protested, though the chance to talk to someone who didn't have a stake in the situation suddenly sounded very attractive.

"You saved my handbag today," Kayden pointed out. "Buying you an ice-cream doesn't even begin to cover that. I can listen to your woes and agree just how mean people are being to you, if you want. It doesn't cost me anything. And it's not like you've got a secret identity to worry about." The grin she gave Amy made her look about sixteen, and awoke a reluctant answering smile from the biokinetic.

"Well, okay then," Amy decided, thinking hard about what she was going to say. "I'm adopted, but you probably had that figured out already." At Kayden's encouraging nod, she went on. "I found out a while ago that my dad's actually a supervillain. You've probably never heard of him, but he's been in prison for the last ten years. Anyway, I ran into an old minion of his …"

As she told the story, eliding over the more sensitive details, Kayden listened entranced, and Aster gurgled happily in her stroller.

<><>

Dragonslayer Base
Much Later That Night

Mags rolled over in bed, feeling the deep contentment that came from a good solid back massage from Geoff. She had responded to his advances, and they had made love until late in the evening; afterward, as usually happened, she had dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep. But now the glass of wine she had imbibed before the massage was making itself known, so she had to get up.

Trying not to disturb Geoff, she disentangled herself from the sheets and went to sit up, but her hand went down in the middle of his back. Or where the middle of his back would have been, if he had still been in bed.

"Geoff?" she murmured sleepily. He must be going to the bathroom too. Stumbling out of bed, she snagged a bathrobe and made her way to the bathroom, but he wasn't there either. That worked for her; she sat down and relieved herself. She was halfway back to bed when her brain started working. Where is he?

Entering the bedroom, she turned the light on, to find the bed entirely empty. Small stirrings of alarm were going off in the back of her mind by now. Belting the bathrobe around her waist, she headed out into the main area. Maybe he's spying on Dragon again? But no, he wasn't at the console. Data, of course, ran over the multiple screens, showing what the AI was up to.

But Mags had no eyes for that. What caught her attention was the sheet of paper taped to the keyboard. Turning on the light, she picked up the sheet and read it. Adrenaline kicked her brain into high gear; with the paper still clutched in her hand, she dashed for the workshop.

"Fuuuuuck!" she screamed. "Mischa! Get up!" Not hesitating for a moment, she slapped her hand on the red button inside the workshop door, which sent an alarm clanging through every room of the base. She wasn't sure what its original intention had been for, but it was a useful way of getting everyone up and awake.

Moments later, the big Russian showed up. His beard was in wild disarray and he wore a pair of boxers luridly printed with bright pink hearts. However, he also hefted a large assault rifle in one hand, and he looked awake and ready for action. "What is it, Mags? Where is Geoff?"

"Gone," she said bitterly, holding out the paper. "I thought you locked his suit down!"

"I did!" he protested. She pointed silently at the empty space where his suit had been, and the opened-up shells of their two suits, trailing components. " ... oh. Son of bitch. He cannibalised our suits to bypass. Very sneaky. I will break fingers when I find." He took the sheet and read it. "'I'm sorry, but this is the only way. Carry out the blackmail mission as a distraction. If you can get Teacher released, I'll let Panacea go unharmed. Geoff.'" Pausing, he stared at her. "What do we do now?"

The curl of her lip was almost a snarl. "We're going to repair my suit, then you're going to stay here and run mission control."

He blinked stupidly at her. "But what will you be doing, if I am to be doing that?"

"Going after my idiot husband and saving him from himself." She turned and stomped into the workshop. "Whether he likes it or not."

End of Part Six

Part Seven

Starfox5 · May 29, 2017

And Saint's being Saint... the guy just lives to mess things up. (Although he's a nice plot device since he's sort of a misguided mini-Cauldron.)

MerelysSoul · May 29, 2017

Saint...

Nice knowing you, big addicted idiot.

Hostage Situation [Worm AU fanfic]

Shadowed Philosopher

Know what you're doing yet?

Shadowed Philosopher

Versed in the lewd.

Just zis guy, you know?

Experienced.

Versed in the lewd.

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Getting out there.

Sky God

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

I'm so ronery So ronery So ronery and sadly arone

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Well worn.

Versed in the lewd.

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Just zis guy, you know?

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Hera's Divorce Lawyer

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Know what you're doing yet?

Well worn.

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Experienced.

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Making the rounds.

(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

Experienced.

Warning: Tends to irreverent in most situations.

Users who are viewing this thread