A moment later, I raised my weapon, which was still coated in the crimson liquid. Maybe I’d gotten a little carried away this time. With a sigh, I set my paint brush down and stepped back to look over the painting from better view.
I can't help but feel some sort of disappointment, despite the fact the fact te issue was written from the first letter.
However, the only person in the Village who was likely to play that game was me, and I was fairly confident that I wasn’t doing that this time.
When did the Imp win duplication powers already?
Hartford pulled couple pages out of the folder and opened them in front of me. “At the age of twelve, before she’d even manifested as a mutant, Carolynn was arrested for stalking one of her teachers. Her father kept her from being sent to juvenile hall, but she was sent to mandatory psychiatric counselling. Two years later, she repeated this with a famous rock star. She was arrested for stalking, breaking and entering, and assault. There are several more incidents like this, each becoming a little more…extreme. The psychiatric report that I acquired says that she has an obsessive personality, which is exacerbated by a case of Galahad Syndrome.”
Why does a Standard Fangirl have an obssession for the Imp exactly? Never managed to get her autograph?
About eight years ago, I’d been hired to steal that painting from a museum. The contract had come through an agent, a paid middle-man who kept the actual client anonymous. Now, I suddenly had a very good idea of just who that client had been.
“While the police were investigating the stolen artwork,” Hartford continued, “they found evidence of extortion, fraud, and money laundering. Northrop was arrested on Carolynn’s wedding day, then died of a heart attack in prison.
“And she blames ME for that?” I blurted out in surprise.
...Is it too late to go for Psycho Fan? I mean, IRS members aren't generally geniuses, but this one is drilling through the bedrock.
“Yay,” I cheered without much enthusiasm. “I have my very own stalker.”
See? Even Imp agrees... Sarcasm? Is it some kind of dish?
“This one is gratis,” Hartford answered with a dismissive gesture. “It would a bad precedent to simply stand by when an outsider attempts to kill one of our teachers.”
Unfortunately Whateley Rep one doesn't work on these Dumb-Enough-To-Mug-Dunwich-Level losers... Granted people at this level aren't usually a threat.
“I wonder why nobody has ever asked me to chaperone one of these trips,” I mused to myself with a smirk. My tail, hidden by both the masking charm and my coat, swished back and forth behind me, unseen.
Be careful, you could end up playing duty for the Kimboids. The Ironic Overpower just dig this sort of thinking.
At that moment, I was grinning in anticipation of the joke I was about to play, but to make it more interesting than my usual ones, was the fact that I wasn’t the one to come up with it. This one was all Ryan’s idea, and I’d been surprised when he’d actually asked me to play along. Of course, there was no way I could turn this down.
Color me interested.
“I bet I’m gonna have a way better lunch than Maxine,” Melissa continued cheerfully. “She said that she didn’t want to go to Boston with me, after what happened the last time we were in Berlin…”
Regarding food quality, I might disagree there *Totally filming the scene in a 'subtle' way*
Melissa put on her best innocent expression. “We just did some shopping…”
Well, it
was a Whateley Standard Shopping Trip.
Melissa’s eyes popped open wide at that. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”
How many pranks ideas were coursing through that brain...
Melissa turned to stare at me, letting out a gasp of surprise as she did so. Her mouth even dropped open, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing. Then, she blinked and quickly looked back and forth between me and her dad.
*Perfect capture of Mischief's Face*... Before recognizing this face and this voice?
I could see the wheels turning in Melissa’s head, as she knew that Candice and the Imp were one and the same. However, as far as she knew, her dad still had no idea. That put her into an awkward position, or at least, so she thought.
Nice, it means ore Faces to catch. Daddy is an excellent learner.
“What?” I teased Melissa. “Are my horns showing?
Dunno if I should tsk at the katyusha subtlety, or laugh... Choosing is too hard I'll do both. After playing heads or tails for the first one.
Melissa let out a loud gasp of surprise, her eyes going wide as she finally realized that her father knew who I was. “What? How…?”
*Flash* Nice final, perfectly aimed for the throat.
“You KNEW,” Melissa accused her father with a look of betrayal.
Nobody likes a sore loser, Mischief.
Melissa let out a loud ‘SQUEEE’ which hurt my ears a little. She seemed delighted by the idea that her dad and I were dating, which relieved me a little.
Profit while the getting is good, the moment she gets a little sister, her attitude might change a little.
As a professional criminal of many years, I immediately recognized the scene of a super powered smash and grab in progress.
That, or sports fans salty about a really nasty loss of their team. Villains learnt to run the fuk away from these ones.
Before I could tease Ryan further, a voice shouted out, “Stop right there, villain.”
Who's umb enough to throw a cann–
Aegis, who seemed to have slipped away from his group, and was now standing there, challenging the villain.
Duck. Someone call his adoptive parents, so they can
tell and show him he doesnt need to pull this sort of crap to earn anything from them. Unless they turn out later to be duckers. Duck them if so. Oh, and Aegis, you're ditching an important Rule Zero here, related to parties: 'Never without a wingmate'.
“I’m Aegis, and I’m going to stop you,” Aegis announced.
Kiddo, you're the wrong type of Aegis to tank this sort of fight. And even if you had that redundant biology, it wouldn't keep away the world of owies coming for you
With that, the big man snarled, and I could see that Aegis was starting to annoy him.
No matter how important that step, you need to think about how you use the owie after annoying them. Wiseass badass is work, kid.
“You’re the Imp?” the villain asked, now giving me a curious look. “Monster Max used to talk about you.”
... You ight have part of a solution to a problem here Imp. Just point toward the Glorious Crimson Kid, for Crimson fight with lots of Crimson Emotion flowing around.
“You let him get away,” Aegis snarled at me. “I knew you were still a villain.”
Nope, beause by doing so, the true villains, the assurance, will be left with no choice but pony up. Now that's
real heroism.
Aegis stared at me, looking surprised and confused. Then he gave me a hostile look. “So, I’m supposed to just stand back and let him get away with that?”
Kid, here's a great secret you need to learn: You're not invicible. Or immortal, for that matter. Begins to properly take these things into consideration before thinking aobut things like this.
Aegis gave me another look of surprise, as though he’d never considered this kind of thing. “That’s…not very heroic.”
For the love of– At least you'd fit with most of the Capes. These orons were all tsking at this Jadis gamble against Nemesis when the only thing truly forwn-worthy there was how far she pushed the envelop with fake blood. If you're a true hero, you shouldn't care about looking shiny beyond PR, and results first (Heck, Irondork wasn't that wrong with his phony cables. Not for the 'class', but the bait they represented.) Using your brains aren't a fucking crime!
This was the first time that I’d ever met Lamplighter, though I certainly knew who he was. I always researched the local heroes, whenever I did any traveling, and I’d passed through Boston a few times over the last three decades. And of course, after moving to Whateley, I’d given the local heroes an even more thorough look.
Despite the fact this shining hero is trying his hardest to prove the opposite... Did they ever try to arrest that wanker? He has to have struck enough to nerves to warrant trying.
“Is that what you call it, you pervert?” I responded with a look of mock disgust. “Ewww… Do you proposition every woman you just met like that?”
Disappointment. Se jokes are just so easy road. You should never let the facts you're facing an idiot influence the quality of the snark. Can't let it become a lost art.
Lumpy flew past a second later, then paused to look around in surprise. “Where did she go?” He snarled in anger. “That villain won’t get away from me. She was going for her submarine, so I’ll just catch her there instead.”
...Someday a person will see through that, or assume invisibility rather than teleportation when this happen, and Imp will end in a dicey situation. Not that I'm wishing her this, but it has to happen someday.
I glanced to Aegis, who had a dazed look on his face. “He thought I was a villain,” Aegis said, looking as though he couldn’t believe it. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and that hero attacked me…”
You so do not want to become that loser, boy. That's why you learn target identification.
There were a couple members of the Teletubbies, specifically, Reach, Rez, and Interface. That surprised me a little since I’d previously had some trouble with their club. Of course, I also had Heartbreaker and Jello from the Masterminds, and a few random kids who just seemed interested in the subject.
The two with a functional brain, and one to do spying (on one hand, Interface helped Reach at his lowest point. On the other, my personal opinion of hazing is pretty much 'how is that fucktarted thing still a thing?'). Looks pretty normal for me
“Are you two…dating?” I asked a little awkwardly.
Guess who is just getting on her way to become a stepmother now?
“He’d be an idiot not to,” I assured her.
Quick hint, if he's one, hit abort. Do not try harder, Doesn't matter how cool he looks.
Just as we were finishing up, Aegis gave me an odd look before cautiously asking, “Do you think that this would be enough to beat that guy from yesterday? Adamant?”
...Euh, kid, just because levels go from 1 to 20 doesn't mean you get to cut through the chase. You got to go through all of them.
“Don’t fight harder,” I told him. “Fight smarter.”
Reiterating my comment about how fighting smart isn't a
fucking crime.
“Could you beat him?” Aegis asked me curiously. “If you tried to that is.”
Also, last tiny bitty minor point: You win by fulfilling your objectives, not killing/beating the other guy, even if the former can seem like an obvious way to fulfill these objectives.
“Not all heroes are like that,” I grudgingly admitted. “There are some who are capable, competent, and professional. It might sound pretty ironic coming from someone like me, but I can respect those heroes. I’d never admit it to them of course, but there are times when heroes are needed, and I appreciate the good ones…even if they’re coming after me.”
Funny thing, I thought you appreaciated one of them so much you want him to run after you...
After Geist ran away, I chuckled gleefully to myself. That had been fun. Too easy…but still fun.
Fun as stealing a lollipop from a toddler. There are thgins just too easy to be worth it.
One of the things I really wanted to work on today was my training plan for Melissa. She’d advanced enough that it was time to put her out in the field, having her tag along on some of my jobs while giving her some simple ones of her own. Of course, now that I’d retired from the business, that kind of training was a little more difficult to come by. Fortunately, I had the sims as a resource. I just needed to design some to suit my needs.
..., Well love life isn't worth it without a few disputes to spice it up. As long as they remain few...
“Carson can’t protect you forever,” Barney stated. “Sooner or later, you will pay for your crimes.”
Puzzling you think your opinion is worth shit. Go drown in a Duff barrel, Barney... Hey Imp was the one who launched the Simpsons train, blame her!
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a new voice said.
Hard to when you're pretty much everywhere on campus at all times, Fubar.
However, it wasn’t Carson who began the explanation, but Ryan. “I was at the airport this morning when I received a call a call from a hero group, who requested my help as backup on their current mission. From what I’ve been told, a villain called Fiddleback attacked a school bus and took all the children hostage.”
... Lovely. How much for a 'Dang, they resisted arrest so hard, we ad to kill them all.'"?
“Melissa might argue otherwise,” Ryan said in a gentle tone. “Besides, I don’t need another hero. I need a thief. I need someone sneaky enough to figure out how to get past Fiddleback’s guards and security so we can get those kids out safely, and you’re the best thief I know.”
... And I guess Bilbo wasn't free for this one, right?
“Superhawk Is right,” Carson said a few seconds later. She scowled deeply as she admitted, “This particular situation requires more of a subtle touch, one that understands how to bypass security. One of those kids is a future student at this school. He may not have begun classes yet, or even arrived on campus, but he is still one of our kids, and I will NOT just stand by and allow our students to be taken. If it wasn’t for the hostages, I’d fly over and deal with Fiddleback myself. And if it wouldn’t cause more problems than it would solve.”
... And you can still find people in this world braindead enough to attack anything tied to Whateley?
“We need to just go up to the front door and kick Fiddleback’s butt,” Fuzzy Wuzzy announced.
“He has hostages,” Miss Magic reminded him. I’d been watching them for the past ten minutes, and this was the third time she’d had to tell him.
“If we try anything, Fiddleback will kill the kids,” Brandywine repeated…again.
... That's it, the bear is crazy. He fits the definition of madness to a T.
Brandywine chuckled at that. “Let herself in... I designed the security myself. Nobody is getting in again…” She glanced to Polarstorm. “Not after the last time.”
"I covered all entrances with Duct tape. Impenetrable. Except the holes we needed to open for venti– Why are you laughing?"
“Maybe you meant to say Imp penetrable,” I suggested with a grin. “Then again, that could be taken the wrong way…”
...Naaah, too easy.
I got a couple looks of surprise at that, which made me thankful that I’d done a little research on the way here. From what I’d learned, Fiddleback was something of a professional, in his own way, and I could almost respect that. However, his business tended to cross some lines that should never be crossed, so I was actually happy to be part of taking him down.
People, how long Imp was active already? Right, so you have to know any moron shouldhave died a long,
long time, right? Think over it.
The villain, once known as the Provoker, hated the Imp more than he could express. He’d once been a respected mercenary, at least in his own mind, but no more. Now he was a laughingstock. A joke to nearly everyone in the business, all because of her. That bitch had cut off his hand…and his leg. And then, adding insult to injury, she’d somehow convinced everyone to call him by that ridiculous name of Crash Test Dummy. He was going to kill her for that. He promised this to himself nearly every day.
Eh, take your mercy and love it. Lesser people would have gone for something, like, wild random crazy shot in the dark, Guinea Pig for you. You sure fits that name to a T anyways.
“Last year, that school repelled a Syndicate attack,” Crash Test Dummy reminded everyone. “Any place that has enough firepower to repel a Syndicate assault, isn’t one we want to march into.”
Boo! I ask for a refund! These brainless losers are supposed to commit Suicide by Whateley, they're not smart enough to avoid it.
“Me either,” Mistress Hex reluctantly admitted. She scowled, obviously not happy about admitting any weakness or lack of knowledge.
...With one exception. Unless the inheritance thingie threatens you with death, let it go, Hexie. You know it's not woorth it now.
“I know someone who can help us,” the Crimson Kid abruptly said, suddenly getting everyone to look at him. He scowled deeply for a moment, before continuing, “Years ago, back before that demon bitch ruined me…I had an associate. We’d only worked together a couple times, but when I was looking into this school, I found out that he’s a teacher there now. If anyone in that place will help us deal with the Imp, its T Rex.”
I beg you on my knees with all the lukewarm sincerity I can muster, Barney. Make up for these guys' failure and do something stupid.
Fiddleback’s lair didn’t look like much from the outside. It looked like a normal commercial building, though without any real windows. There was a sign out front that said, ‘RECLUSE VIOLIN MANUFACTURING’.
... Does it at least craft good ones?
“Not the first time blueprints didn’t cover everything,” I muttered in annoyance. “And it won’t be the last.”
The criminals doesn't respect actual blueprints, or dliver fake ones to administration. So shocked here, I think I'm dying.
All the kids turned to stare at me, but one girl screamed and yelled out, “IT’S A DEMON!”
Worst, it's a teacher. Run for your lifes before she begins handing over tests.
“I am not a demon,” I said, trying to hide the annoyance. “Just your friendly neighborhood Spider Imp.”
“What?” the nearest boy asked with a worried look.
“Come with me if you want to live,” I said in my best Schwarzenegger voice. I’ve always wanted to say that. However, when that didn’t work, I decided to try Luke Skywalker instead. “My name is the Imp and I’m here to rescue you.”
And boy, was she needed. Is anybody teaching the classics to brats these days?
“Where are the other kids?” I asked, walking up to the first kid and grabbing the chain around his ankle. “I was told that there were seventeen of you…”
I'm su–
“They…got taken away,” the kid in front of me blurted out, staring at me with a fearful expression. “On a helicopter.”
Duck, Can I have at least one sentence of entire delusions? Is it too much to ask for?
I snorted at that. “Nope. I’m an art teacher.” That had all the kids staring at me.
See? Told you it was worst than a demon.
Worst case scenario, we play this like an episode of Scooby Doo, where we run back and forth, from room to room, while they chase us, and some groovy chase music plays in the background.”
“What?” one of the kids asked, giving me a blank look.
And you
deserve it, ignorant brats. Educate these barbarians.
This whole mission had actually been pretty quick and easy. Too quick and easy. Sure, we’d gotten the kids out safely, captured Fiddleback, and shut down his operation. However, in spite of all that, I still felt like we’d failed. Seventeen kids had been taken, and only ten of them had been rescued. Seven kids were still missing.
Sure you're not a hero? Well, at least you're a decent person.
I just shrugged. “Hey, even us fabulous Imps have to pay bills and put food on the table.” Then I grinned before exclaiming, “Mmmmm… Lobster, caviar, and REALLY good pizza…”
Please tell me about your supplier for the third one. These are really hard to find.
“Are you sure you aren’t a member of the IRS?” I asked him curiously.
Him not jumping at your throat roaring 'For the glory of the IRS!' was a little tiny bitty hint.
Miss Magic nodded at that. “Apparently, we’re dealing with two groups…besides Fiddleback and his people. According to one of the soldiers, six of the kids were shipped off to some mad scientist who wants guinea pigs for some super soldier process.”
And tese ones don't have a probability warper to give them a shot to escape... Yikes.
Miss Magic nodded. “Yes. And according to the man I questioned, Fiddleback had a deal to sell Jerome before they’d ever captured him. It seems that Jerome was the actual target of the kidnapping, and Fiddleback simply took the other kids as a…bonus.” She had a look of disgust and anger on her face, and I could agree completely. There were some lines that should never be crossed, and selling kids was pretty high on that list.
... You know, I'm sure cops would look the other way if someone heroic used him to paint walls 'gore and brains, with a seasoning of bashed skull'. Just saying.
“Too bad,” Brandywine told me with a stubborn expression. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”
“Oh, you like watching me?” I asked, giving her a sexy pose. “I didn’t know you swung that way…” The look on her face made me chuckle.
“Why do I not see this working out well?” Chickenhawk muttered.
Because you'll likely the one stuck doing the explaining the day Brandywine learns the whole thing was pretty much 'Bonding Time With My Future Step-Sister?'
“Are we there yet?” I asked enthusiastically. The question was a classic, even a tradition for car trips.
“How the hell should I know?” Brandywine snapped in annoyance. “You’re the one driving.”
With barbarians like you playing hero, no wonder the brats let the classics fall into oblivion...
A couple minutes later, my passenger demanded, “Are we there yet?” She was obviously attempting to mess with me, though the question only made me grin.
“Yep,” I answered cheerfully.
Brandywine gave me a look of surprise. “Really?”
“Nope,” I told her with a chuckle. “I was just pulling your tail.” She glared at me. A minute later, I announced, “Now we’re here…”
Amateur.
“Imp,” I answered in my best Sean Connery accent. “Jane Imp.”
On one hand, too easy, on the other, mandatory...
“Focus,” I said in greeting.
Oh, him. *Still beating myself up over taking so damn long to recognize Lodestone when nothing hid her...*
I had a feeling that he was going to say something else, perhaps to introduce her by her professional name, whatever that was, but held back because of my companion. That was probably smart since it never paid to give away too much information, especially to someone you didn’t know.
Can't help but feels the last sentence is a bit... redundant there.
“They’re called the Triangle,” Michelle offered. I gave her a curious look. She shrugged. “I know. Real impressive name.” The sarcasm was strong with this one. I liked it.
Counts didn't even start, and these dudes are already losing points fast.
Focus scowled, and this was no longer a purely professional expression. “They have a different philosophy from their parent organization, hence the split. According to their official statements, they believe that humans and mutants can coexist peacefully, and that mutant powers can greatly benefit the human race.”
Yeeaaah, right, sure. Just as long as peaceful coexistence is–
“Like Jerome,” I mused, remembering how he’d been specifically targeted for kidnapping. “So, their real goal is to either have mutants as second-class citizens…or straight out slaves.”
Slavery. Visible miles ahead... Actually, how any outfits like that exist? These losers can't be the first ones with an idea like that.
“I’m afraid that I have no idea,” Focus admitted. “I’ve heard that they have several training camps, but I don’t know where. However, there is someone who would know…”
Yeeaaah, right, sure,
bis. Cue–
“The Pooka,” Michelle said. “He’s been working with the Triangle, and I had a run in with him a couple weeks during a job. That’s how I found out about them.”
Cue Deniable Asset .Visible miles ahead
bis. He's not even trying the Deniable part.
“You and I, alone in a car,” I announced with a lot more enthusiasm than I actually felt. “It’ll be just like Thelma and Louise… You know what this means?” I flashed her a broad grin before loudly exclaiming, “ROAD TRIP!”
...Are we there yet?
“You’re staying with me,” Brandywine insisted, fixing me with a flat look. “I don’t trust you on your own and want to keep an eye on you.”
“Oooh, I’m flattered,” I said with a cheerful grin.
Brandywine glared at me. “I’m watching you… I mean…” I just burst out laughing.
...Okay, I have to ask now. Is the Imp seriously considering a three-way party involving her future step-sister?
“Do you have to be such a pig?” Brandywine snapped in annoyance. She carefully placed her own coat onto a hanger and put it in the closet.
... Not sure if reading this after great menage of my appartment is making it funnier or not.
“I prefer something a little less…childish,” she said, changing the channel back to the news and giving me a smug look.
So you devolve right back to baby-level? Politics aren't even that good... Any chances of prime footage of the Cannons? At least Eva proved she can live up the scene.
With that, went into my luggage and pulled out my laptop. A few seconds later, I logged online and began playing a video of Woody Woodpecker with the volume turned up as loud as it could go. Brandy glared at me. I gave her a smug look.
Sore loser. Are you teaching
this to Mischief?
Once I was standing beneath the hot water, I began soaping up and singing, “Splish, splash, I was taking a bath, long about a Saturday night…” I raised my voice enough so that Brandywine would be able to hear me, then I continued with the song.
Sore loser
bis. Really, I'm worried now. Teaching lockpicking is nice and useful, but please tell me
that isn't part of the formation?
Brandywine gave a skeptical snort. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that YOU have a boyfriend.”
"... The fuck was that sound? It was like the entire universe was laughing at me."
“You’re so selfless,” I exclaimed with a clear note of sarcasm. “So self-righteous. So…hypocritical.”
“What?” Brandywine demanded, jumping off her bed and glaring at me.
I met her gaze and responded with my own sneer. “Don’t try to play this off as being some kind of selfless hero. You’re getting paid for this, just like I am. The city pays the Shielders a retainer for your services, and the mayor called you guys in on this. You can play at being selfless heroes, but you’re just mercenaries, so stop trying to act noble.”
...What? She's rising good points. Brandy could counter by telling the money let them go hero H24, buuuuut...
I smiled at her, an evil little smile as I was about to turn the screws. “I happen to know for a fact that one of your…clients…a company you Shielders have a contract with…is owned by the Syndicate. Your protests might mean a little more if you weren’t all on the Syndicate payroll.”
... That.
Secret identity spiel
How very Worm. Still, while some measure of this is common sense, don't expect me to follow 'unwritten rules' when the opposition begins swimming in blood.
A minute later, I was standing at Pooka’s front door and pushing the doorbell. When the door opened, I found myself staring at the barrel of a gun. The gun was held by a short man, about five foot three, with dark hair and a tan complexion.
I think he likes you.
A minute later, I was standing at Pooka’s front door and pushing the doorbell. When the door opened, I found myself staring at the barrel of a gun. The gun was held by a short man, about five foot three, with dark hair and a tan complexion.
... That and people like the Neu-Panzer SS don't seem to have any problem about gunning them down too... Oh, fuck, Goonstar.
Since the gun hadn’t worked on me, Pooka dropped it and suddenly flew up into the air, and right through the ceiling as though it wasn’t even there. Flight and intangibility were useful powers for someone in our profession. They meant that he could get into secure places and back out again before anyone even realized that he was there. Those powers also meant that he was a real pain to catch.
...Maybe the precision is a bit redundant here too? Nothing of
Ready Player One level assuredly (The fucking condescending prick explained what unique meant, that fucker), but still...
“My net is electrified,” Brandywine bragged, “Which keeps you from phasing through it. And its anchored to the roof, which keeps you from flying away.”
Sigh...
Just don't tell them how you bagged them. Never know when you'll need the trick again, or who is listening.
Pooka glared at me, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t believe you’re working with the heroes…”
And you work for slavers, Pot. At least this Kettle is nicer. Also, she commented about your house. Take the fucking hint.
“Or what?” Pooka asked with a smirk. “You’ll ask again?”
Why do I even bother?
Now that I had what I wanted, I needed to ease the hard feelings and keep this from becoming a personal grudge. After all, we had come to his home, and I’d damaged his property, so paying for his roof was a big part of that. Pooka hadn’t actually wronged me, so there was no need to turn him into a future member of the Imp Revenge Squad.
...Might be a little late to care about thhat one. Bah, they deserved it anyways... Just consider definitive solutions next time.
“What happened to you?” Roland asked the man formerly known as the Crimson Kid.
“The Imp,” the Crimson Kid said, his voice as rough as his appearance.
"Well, that and ecklessly killing civilians, and blaming freaks for that. So what? Civilians are props for our glory, and the freaks targets.... What, I have baby blood on my lips again?"
“She destroyed my life,” the Crimson Kid said with flash of hatred in his eyes. “She framed me for several crimes, in both my costumed and civilian identities, and then she gave my identity to some of my enemies. I’ve been in hiding since, always looking over my shoulder in case they find me.”
"I swear, how the fuck Goonstar manage the Thug Superhero Life? ...Oh, right, sucking up to the Goodkinds."
Roland could only nod agreement. “She destroyed my life too. She humiliated me, cost me my fiancé, and my career as a hero.”
"Fuck, why can't we all have the great Life like Captain Condom?"
“I don’t know what that monster has on our headmistress, but I intend to find out. Sooner or later, I’m going to bring her down. I’m going to make her face justice, even if I have to grab her by the tail and drag her to prison myself.”
"I mean, she's only Lady astarte, Campion's pupil, successor for a time, and superheroine with decades of experience. Clearly the wimen is a powerless fool unable to defend herself against Imp and needs a Mahn like me to do the job!"
“I’m in,” Roland said.
"And now, onwards with the meal. As you saw they have the nicest baby hearts of the East Coast here..."
...What? These morons said it all themselves, honest. Why should have waste precious fucks about them and writing something?
I rolled my eyes. “Why is that the first thing everyone asks?” Then I grinned as I answered, “That would be Elizabeth Carson…headmistress of Whateley Academy.”
Brandywine’s eyes went wide. “Whateley…?”
“Yep,” I answered with an evil grin. “And yes, Melissa is in one of my classes.”
My roommate nearly choked at that, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing. I didn’t hold back the smirk though.
Oh, Brandy, these images running through your head about Imp's influence over your poor niece? Forget them. I'll bet they don't hold the comparation with reality.
Brandywine looked more than a little shaken, so I cheerfully commented, “Here’s a paper from Doctor Diabolik’s daughter…” Brandywine choked again. “And here’s one from Bruce Goodkind’s kid…”
“Now I know you’re screwing with me,” Brandywine snapped. “I should have known better than to think you might be serious.”
Oh come on, if you know Whateley, you know that's just the sort of things to expect from the school, and the rest is nothing but logic. Disappointed by the blatant willful thinking.
A short time later, I was just finishing up when Brandywine stood up and commented, “When we checked in, I noticed that this hotel has a nice hot tub…”
“That sounds nice,” I responded.
Brandywine hesitated a moment before asking, “Did you want to come with me?”
I blinked at that. She looked sincere. Was she trying to offer an olive branch?
Holy duck, your 'siblings combo' technique could actually be working... That was the intention, right?
“I learned a long time ago,” I continued with a faint smile, “that if you want to survive in the business, you have to do your research. You need to know who you’re likely to face and how to deal with them. Sometimes, during that research, things like real names and identities come up.” Then I sat up straighter and looked Brandywine in the eyes. She was definitely concerned, though she was trying not to show it.
Homework. Shadowrun's first lesson after not dealing with a dragon. You'd think heroes are able to show more common sense than rolists.
“A MONSTER!” she yelled, right before turning and running back the way she’d come.
How did she know Imp was a teacher? A telepath?
Then with a sigh, I turned on the TV. I didn’t really feel like watching anything specific, so I played around with the remote, then went to the ‘on demand’ channels. My eyes went to the ‘adult’ section and I found myself grinning evilly as I ordered one of the shows, one with a particularly crude title. I had absolutely no interest in watching BBW Lesbian Orgy, but that wasn’t the point. Imagining the look on Brandywine’s face when she got the hotel bill and saw all the adult movies charged to her, really made me feel better.
...Sorry, but that one is a cheap shot.
“They have a warehouse,” I said, looking over the building that housed the Triangle. They had even labeled the building with a big blue triangle on the side, just to make sure nobody could miss it. “Why do people always use warehouses? Where is the originality? Where is the creativity?”
“Where is the silence?” Brandywine hissed from beside me.
Imp murdered it a long time ago. Also, that's really snobism there. Working-class outfits can't all offer themselves nice condos.
“I hate pulling a heist on short notice,” I quietly grumbled to myself. Without time to properly research and plan, this could be risky. Then more loudly, I said, “I’ll scout and see what I can find out…unless you’ve got some X Ray glasses or something?”
Brandywine looked down at her belt full of equipment and shook her head. “Afraid not.”
Ask elissa to contact a Mobius at Whateley. Never face again lack of a equipment with dimensional storage for your utility belts? Costs an arm, but what price can you give to success?
“The local heroes,” I answered wryly. “Meet the STAR League.”
Should be fun.
Brandywine gave her a look of surprise, and then me. Apparently that was what it took for her to believe my claims of being a teacher.
And now the pictures concerning Melissa come back...
Tabby Cat gave me an amused look. “Which god? Loki?”
“Astarte,” I answered simply.
Some people still doesn't get the whole 'Don't fuck with Whateley' deal.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Brandywine stated, “but the Imp is right.”
Check your list of Signs of the Apocalypse... Of course shhe has one, everyone does. One of my items is the moment Cartoon Network will only broadcast Teen Titans Go round the clock.
There was no time to really plan. No time to set up a solid exit, much less a backup. This was why I never could have been a hero. Nearly everything they did was reactionary and short notice, which usually meant acting without enough information to be as effective as you could. Sloppy and risky. I much preferred a nice heist where I could plan and set things up for weeks in advance.
At the same time, true geinuses are also the ones able to wing it, so... Chicken, Imp?
“Remember,” the older man told the younger, “this symbol represents the three pillars of our organization, the three principles that guide us. Always keep this close as a reminder of our purpose.”
"Suck Ass, Slavery, and Suck Ass. This one is twice more important."
...What? They were letting brochures everywhere, so I helped myself with one.
“Midas,” the older Triangle member said in greeting to the old man in the cell.
Total lack of imagination. Demonstrating both Suck Ass and Slavery here.
“They will be well taken care of,” Midas promised him. “Your cooperation ensures that, just as it ensures we have the funds necessary for our work.
"I mean, you know how well we're taking care of them right now, as you're under our power. And of course, once one of the little fre– grandchildren manifests something interesting, we'll be there for him."
...Only way the threat could be more obvious was if he had weapons and images of the family at gunpoint.
As they stepped away from Midas, Harper turned to his companions. “There is an old saying that with great power comes great responsibility. For too long, mutants have had the power, but denied the responsibility. Many of them have had the power to help humanity in one form or another, but have used this power for selfish purposes instead. Because of this, we sometimes have to remind them of their responsibilities…and even encourage them to fulfill them.”
For Butcher's sake, you just didn't defile Spiderman's mantra there. Dr Diabolik, morons are threatening Whateley. Coordinates for the orbital strikes incoming.
Also, fuck the vapid bitch.
“I’m almost finished with my devise,” Munchkin announced with an eager smile. “It’s going to be even better than my prototype mutant detector. This should triple the range…”
I'm sure you can try the cute devise of the cute little dirty Quisling defiling an honored RPG tradition in the New Hampshire. I mean, if it overloads on mutants again, it clearly means the dingus will never work, right?
Harper went to the last cell, to the one containing Jerome. “Jerome,” he said to the teenage boy, who only responded with a glare. Then Harper turned back to his companions. “As I said, some mutants need to be encouraged to do the right thing. This young man has the power to heal most injuries and diseases, but instead of visiting his local hospital, or helping those in need, he spends his free time hidden away in his home, playing video games.”
Because your H1 pals, Neu-Panzer SS, MEO, and every random hater would just let him do that of course. And the people would all immediately accept. And oh right, important point,
his fucking life. Not bothering with the kid line, waste of time on these fucktards.
Harper smiled at that, then fixed Jerome with a cold gaze. “I have more patients for you this afternoon, and you WILL help them without any further problems. Do I make myself clear?”
All fine and dandy people who only paid the smallest fee, eh?
With that, Harper and his people began walking away, though they continued talking amongst themselves. “As you can see,” Harper explained, “we turn mutants from a problem into a useful resource. We ensure that their powers serve humanity instead of threaten it.”
“You’ve made your point quite well,” Purnelle told Harper. “I’ve spent so long being ashamed of Ian…and afraid of what the neighbors would think if they found out about his…condition. I think this might be a better place for him.”
*Record Needle Scratch* Wait, that bint was talking about a mutant kid. And she approves the shit she sees and want that for her own fucking child? And justice waste its time with small-time supervillains while degenerates like her are free?
“From what you’ve told me,” Harper continued, “Ian generates a large amount of electricity. We won’t know for certain until we test him, but we should be able to harness this power to enhance the power grid… Think of all that clean energy, without any cost or pollution…”
That's stupid and irrational, but the fact this kid has just the sort of superpower I'd like make it sting extra-hard. Torch this place, and drown the remains in acid.
“They also have four power frames and enough guns to give any redneck a hard-on,” I added.
Eh, no critiquing the rednecks for that. They're fulfilling the one reason they're on Earth: Provide stockpiles of weapons to mankind in preparation for the inevitable Zombie Apocalypse which will try to engulf mankind in the future.
Munchkin stared up at me, then began screaming, “HELP! INTRUDER!”
Hey, some people try to listen music there. Keep your Quisling ways out of it.
Unfortunately, Munchkin was still screaming, and someone actually heard her over the heroes breaking down the door. Several men ran towards us and began shooting, spraying bullets everywhere. I threw myself on Jerome and knocked him to the ground. There was a shriek of pain from Munchkin’s cell, and one glance was enough to let me see that she’d taken a couple shots in the torso. Unless she was a regen or something, odds were that she was already dead. Though how they could hit the midget while completely missing three larger targets, I had no idea.
“Don’t worry,” I assured Jerome and Midas, who’d ducked for cover on his own. “They’re Stormtroopers because they obviously can’t hit what they aim for…”
I object to Imp's statement. Stormtroopers would have at least missed the little collabo. Good thing for them they're getting arrested, the human trash, even their bosses would kill them for that one.
“That was fucking awesome,” Jerome exclaimed, staring at me with something that might even be respect. “Seriously screwed up, but awesome…”
Yeah... the sort of stuff which led to the Geneva Convention...
“Only on days that end in a Y,” I said cheerfully. That didn’t make him look any happier.
Aucun jour de la semaine, donc.
Two of the power frames were Knight of Purity models, which looked a bit off, and not just in the paint colors. It looked like at some point, they’d probably been severely damaged and had then been put back together again in someone’s garage. They were salvaged units. One of the power frames looked like an older and bulker version of Mauler, and had probably been created by the same guy, Major Upgrade. The last power frame was smaller and sleeker than the others, as well as being of a design I didn’t recognize.
Garage sales for power armors? Tough again, some redundancies...
“I need some catnip,” I said with a giggle. “Or maybe a stick with some feathers on it.”
Or drap yourself in some sheets. Our cat just can't help herself from pouncing, clawing and biting anything moving under a sheet. Can make sleeping difficult sometimes.
Linebacker tore open the rest of the armor and pulled out the pilot, a very angry and terrified looking Harper. “Jinkies,” I gasped in mock surprise. “It was old man Harper the entire time…” I waited for someone to make a line about meddling kids, but nobody did, much to my disappointment. With a sigh of exasperation and a sad shake of my head, I muttered, “No respect for the classics.”
With ''heroes'' that ignorant when it comes to set an example up, no wonder society produces ignorant brats like the ones of the precedent entry, or the subhuman bitch watching slaves with adoration. A shame.
Tabby Cat came over and put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and then for my benefit, she called out, “Okay gang, let’s head back to the Mystery Machine.” Brandywine looked at her as if she was crazy while I just grinned in contentment.
...Maybe all hope isn't lost. Clearly more reddemed vilains are necessary.
I watched from hiding as the Triangle members were hauled out in handcuffs. There were a couple guys from the ATF, who seemed especially interested in their stockpile of weapons. However, I noticed that one of the cops had a Triangle pin on his lapel, which he quickly removed once he arrived on scene, so it looked like they had a friend on the inside. That wasn’t my business though.
Bullshit. This guy is a slaver, and that's one of his only
qualities. Rat the shit out of him!
“MISCHIEF?” Brandywine nearly screamed. Her eyes bulged out so far that for a moment, I thought they were going to pop right out of her head, just like in a cartoon. That would have been interesting to see.
That moment when Brandy realizes reality is even worst than all the nightmares she phantasmed about once she accepted Imp truly was at Whateley
Brandywine stared at me before growing, “You can be sure I’m having a talk with my brother.”
*Finishing taking bets* Just tells me when you do it. I have money running on this.
“There is that,” Brandywine responded with a faint smile of her own. “But thank you.”
Plan 'Two-for-one' progressing...
“Not too many,” the Emerald Avenger answered. “We tracked down the mad scientist…Doctor Malevolence…and got the other kids away from him before he could pull any of his experiments.”
To the secret disapointment of all the kids missing out on superpowers...
With my comment, Brandywine fixed her brother with a flat look that promised they were going to have a little talk. Obviously, my comment about Whateley had reminded her about Melissa, and how I’d been teaching her. Now this was a conversation I wouldn’t mind listening in on…from a safe and well-hidden spot in the corner.
Three
Tw–
'
What do you mean, I'm about to have a supervillain step-sister!
Dang it, Ryan, couldn't just do it a bit more slowly. I had money running on that one.
“What?” Fuzzy Wuzzy demanded with a confused expression that only grew more suspicious when I held out a shoe box. He came over and snatched the box out of my hand, then cautiously opened it, as if afraid a snake would jump out. A moment later, he pulled out the contents, a shaggy brown toupee. “What the hell is this?”
“A PIECE offering,” I responded with a grin, putting the emphasis on ‘piece’. And then, in case he hadn’t caught it, I added, “A hair piece offering…”
Chickenhawk and Miss Magic both struggled to keep from laughing while Fuzzy Wuzzy threw the toupee and box onto the ground, then glared at me even more intensely. He took a couple threatening steps towards me, though I remained where I was, silently daring him to attack.
Still going easy although fun way... And I though you'd stop recruiting for the IRS.
Recap
Comments about the redundancy... are not without a slight ironic feel...
“So,” I asked eagerly. “I get two scoops of ice-cream in my sundae?”
“Along with extra nuts and a cherry,” Chickenhawk agreed.
“How about three?” I pushed.
Chickenhawk snorted. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Fine,” I grumbled with a mock pout. “But next time, I’m holding out for a banana split.”
With that, Chickenhawk and I turned and started to leave so we could take care of my payment. The looks on the Shielders’ faces…especially Brandywine’s…almost would have been payment enough. Almost.
*Raise finger, before letting crash and burn* Well, it
is a perfect ending...
Note: My story comments can't nor are trying to replace reading the stories, simply my way of enjoying them and letting the authors know I enjoy them.
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Nothing beats reading an “Imp” adventure and laughing at the humour created so well by Morpheus 
Topic Author
so... They will not be less out for blood when they are no longer in the custody of Boston's finest, but I do agree that if she thinks that she has seen the last of them that she is probably mistaken. Same goes for Barney. I suspect she will eventually have to put him six feet under. He will never consider that she is a) better than he is, and b) She played him like a cheap bongo drum... I E she beat on him massively which means that he ought to take a step back and consider that he just might be boxing out of his skill level at least. 
