Prologue: Start of the Roll Call

I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh? This is as much a story of supers as your own definitions can be stretched, a mental coil pulled taut as a leash around our heroine's throat.

Of course, genre trappings are subjective. Was Murmur's chapter a story of capes, or simply another play in the golden theatre that has this city gripped in gloved hand? The audience is forced to sit, their rapt gaze an assured certainty under fear of being bent back into shape. The hammer of conformity strikes hot against any who may let their ego show and make a play for their own production. This is a story of pretending to be someone you're not, and so it's only natural that the story itself would do much the same.

Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and... well, you won't be crying for long. By the time the curtain is called you'll be bright and beaming, a perfect model of acceptance, lest you peek behind and find these rearing ugly truths she protects you from, a gracious golden gift to be spared your history.

And when the world is whole again, when rivers of spite flow her way in the coming decades, it'll be her pleasure to be despised as she was once adored. Adorned, perhaps, with nail marks and dark purple reminders of the duty seen done. 

An impulsive crow could never. Misty was far too tired to understand her own ambition until it was too late. A true hero never--

"Where are you right now?" A white haired younger woman wearing the face of Nicole's current project smiles knowingly, reaching out to grasp her commander's face and pull upon those distant cheeks. "Certainly ain't with me, you really know how to make a woman feel special huh? Let your mind wander too much and it won't find its way back, Nic."

Nicole smirks reflexively, looking over at the bar from their booth at the side and swatting away her handsy subordinate who's had one two many beers. "I'm getting life advice from a girl half my age who can't even hold her liquor, you're all just such pushovers huh? Even Envy when it really comes down to it, she just won't come out and admit that. That brat needs a wellness check, I think she's jealous." 

Shepherd laughs with a hiccup that makes her blush in embarrassment, sitting on her hands and leaning forwards with a light pout of her own. "Hey, I'm not her you know? Either of 'em." Don't get any funny ideas alright?"

The woman who traded gold for black now sits in purple, a dress she hasn't bothered to dig out of her closet since the last date she went on with Misty. She's glad she made the effort, enjoying the way her company has been stealing glances at that open back all night. "Oh sure, you're definitely convincing me you're not a brat with reverse psychology like that. Want to know what I see when I look at your faces, all of you, I mean? Toys for the taking. And you are just like them, deep down you're all the same person right? You like it." 

Nervous fingers work at undoing the top few buttons of red satin shirt, Shepherd turning her face away with feigned disapproval at such poisonous, degrading words. Legs uncross in high waisted black slacks and she steals another glance at her superior's gorgeous dress. Did Nicole seriously dress up just for her tonight, after that awful meeting it's clear she means to blow off steam and the white haired woman is all too happy to facilitate. "I thought she was your toy now, that pet project of yours? Guess you don't need me..."

Nicole wraps her arm around Shepherd's back and slides it down to firmly hold her hip, pulling the woman closer on the cushioned bench they occupy. "She's a collaborative effort, a toy to be shared, but you... you're all mine. Only mine. It's cute that you'd be jealous of her, I was only ever thinking of you when I fucked her. It only confirmed my suspicion that you're the same, though, she reacted to my touch just as well as you do. I told her I knew just how she liked it and I was right, of course."

"Really? You were thinking of me?" Shepherd tilts her head up and finds herself desperate to sink into Nicole's arms even while they're in a public setting. 

"Naturally, you're not so in denial about what you are, you just like to play hard to get don't you? It's attractive... acceptance, confidence in what you want. Wormed your way into my employ just to get closer to your hero, didn't you now?" A bright supernova of ego burns away everything but Nicole's never ending performance, the older woman taking a smug sip of her cabernet sauvignon as she waits for her flustered company to formulate response. 

With coy smile, Shepherd undoes another button and shrugs. "You tell me, Nic, you do so love telling people what to think, right? Hey, I wanna meet her, maybe I could take over a session."

"As I said before, swapping out handlers is liable to roll back their progress. You're too late anyway, the sessions are over. If you want to meet her you may but ah... you're sure that's such a good idea? Don't you daydream about being in her place, Shepherd?" The teasing words never stop spilling from Mrs. Black's corruptive tongue, lips painted over in rich purple gloss to match her outfit. This, too, is theatre. The woman's a true thespian, just as lost in her roles as that girl she's been training. 

"Guess I'll loiter around the base long enough to run into her then if you're done with the fucked up part." Shepherd does not seem particularly conflicted with morality, like Nicole suggested she knows what she is well enough. 

"It's all the fucked up part. Now I didn't take you out to discuss work, I'd rather leave that behind with that silly uniform if it pleases you? Just don't expect to acknowledge you as anything but my deputy commander while I'm donning the black." Nicole swirls her glass, beginning to feel impatient that they're not moving onto more... indulgent topics, such as how slutty Shepherd looks with so many buttons on her shirt undone. 

"Hm, no fair. Would it be so bad if everyone knew about us? I mean... I'm pretty sure they do, but they probably think I'm just your plaything." The younger woman sulks, staring into the bottom of her beer bottle and blowing away a tuft of hair.

Unable to resist the urge to tease Shepherd in just the way she likes, Nicole sets down her glass and dips possessive fingers into that pretty hair. "You are just my plaything, my good little stress toy, that's why I made you my deputy in the first place. You're hardly qualified for the position but it means you're always on hand for if I need to blow off some steam. Even so, I've my duties, I'm no doubt the second most stressed woman in this damn city and the first only lays claim to that through ah... tangible proof even I can't deny. That being said, you think we look like close friends right now Shepherd? Sisters? If you're so determined to tell the world what a slut you are for me, go ahead and climb into my lap."

Shepherd feels her face heating up and knows she'd be a fool to blame it on the alcohol, looking out at the bar and wondering if she'd prefer to consider it half full or half empty, which is to say, they're definitely not in total privacy even in this booth off to the side. "Is that an order, ma'am?"

Nicole Black's deep purple lips curl in satisfaction, power is a potent drug and she's been an addict for longer than she cares to admit. "You're damn right it is. Hop on up, girl." The woman reflexively snaps her fingers, used to ordering her new rifle around and making an honest mistake what with Shepherd's appearance. The deputy commander does not appear all too displeased with the commanding snap, though it has certainly turned heads in the bar before she's even found her throne. 

Blaming her lack of inhibition on the drink and not her own smouldering desire, Shepherd shuffles closer and places foot against the ground, hand on Nicole's shoulder. "You really are a rotten woman, Nic." With teeth digging into her lip, Shepherd pushes herself into her superior's lap and adjusts herself until satisfied. 

A husky whisper drops into the white haired woman's ear immediately after settling down, making her shiver with a heady concoction of shame and delight flooding her system. "Good girl."

"Ah, Nic... is she heavier than me?" The subordinate looks down into her lap, loving this humiliating feeling more than anything else in the world. 

Commander laughs, leading with biting kisses down the younger woman's neck, knowing she can be as rough as she likes with this one whereas she needs to keep her prize at the base in one piece, more or less. "You know we keep her on a stricter diet than 'Whatever you find in the fridge', right? So I'm not sure you'd like me to answer that one." A hand reaches over to hold Shepherd's head up, not letting her avoid any of the glances that come their way from the rest of the bar. Fingers fluff up the deputy's hair, her heart pounding out of her chest already. "Want me to put a new colour in soon? Maybe a nice purple like this dress you can't take your fucking eyes off, hm?"

"I... I hate you so much, Nic, you're a walking HR violation." Shepherd locks eyes with a passer by on their way to order another round, her gaze quickly flicking down to the floor with her face turning redder than her shirt. 

"Awww, well I suppose I'll just have to make you like me again, you leave me no choice dear." Reaching into the bag sitting beside her, Nicole retrieves her makeup mirror and flicks it open to admire the face of a true narcissist smirking back at her. The woman in her lap squirms, her embarrassment developing tenfold. 

"H-Here? Seriously? I... gosh... you're incorrigible." Shepherd can barely contain her excitement, mouth practically watering in anticipation of that Midas glow stealing her from the room. 

The makeup mirror is brought forwards and angled appropriately, the two women locking eyes through its reflective surface. "Why not? You didn't deny my deductions over your daydreaming after all, so why not let me give you another taste of absolute submission, unconditional surrender to a force so powerful you couldn't hope to deny it. You don't, do you? Deny it, I mean. You want it, girl, and I'll only give it if you've the spine to admit so out loud."

Even without the gold, Nicole's stare is penetrative, laying Shepherd's unfettered lust bare and making self-serving platter of it. "Go easy on me, eh Nic? We've all heard the rumours about Wild Rosary by now, I know I'm not precious like the ginger but... I'd like to come to work tomorrow, be by your side when I can. All I got to look forward to, ehe..." 

"Doesn't particularly sound like you hate me at all, and liars get punished. I'll take your suggestions on board but I suppose you're just going to have to trust me now aren't you? Let's not pretend the danger doesn't do it for you love, doesn't add to this excitement I can practically taste in the air. Seeping from your pores, a deep need to please me and do as you're told." Nicole licks her lips with satisfaction and Shepherd drinks in the sight with hitched breath, bouncing on her superior's thigh with a measure of desperation she didn't think herself capable of hitting. 

"Y-Yes Ma'am." 

And at long last, those pretty, perfect eyes take on an otherworldly glow. Shepherd finds herself mesmerised though not nearly as subjugated as she had been expecting, Nova's dim stare mocking her request for safety like keeping the woman intact is little more than a game to her date. 

"They're so pretty... feels like I just downed five more beers... woah." Shepherd is sluggish, leaning back into her superior's hold and finding herself content to let the woman have her way. 

"You've never been able to think at all when I've used it on you before, save for those thoughts of gold and 'Yes Lady Nova', of course. It's a nostalgic title, a ring of roleplay... I doubt anybody sees me as much a superhero anymore, hm? How about you?" It's no wonder they sent this woman to a shrink, though the world surely paid for doing so given the chain of events that followed, crashing dominoes of chaos and causality nobody could have foreseen. The therapist's dreams did warn her, of course, but she had forgotten all about them come morning. As punishment for her inaction she was to never sleep again, but that too came to pass. 

"You're my hero..." Shepherd gives a ditzy grin at the dinner table, sinking into the lap of a woman twice her age and wishing she never had to blink. 

A sardonic laugh falls into the sinking girl's ear and she giggles along with it out of instinct. "Ah, you're a funny one I'll give you that. Maybe I'm only finding similarities because I keep looking for them, but you really do remind me of my Misty. I think she must have seen it too, seen herself in that girl she decided to choose over the many others who came before. Impulsive, needy creatures, you just need a proper leash to stop you running away with your temptation. A gilded cage to keep you flying off and leaving me behind. I won't lose you as I did her, I'll save the world and then... I'll await your weekly visitations with bated breath, pretty."

"Nic... what if we're wrong? What if we can't--" Shepherd's next question is lost into the ether as the stare of submission intensifies reflexively, Nicole having very low tolerance for doubt at this late stage. 

"Spread your legs. Don't worry the onlookers won't see, not unless they're retrieving their glasses from the floor in some comically timed skit. The food on the table looks lovely, dear, but you'd look much more at home begging for scraps beneath it. For now I've the mind to have you fight off orgasm to spare yourself the public embarrassment for, oh, as long as it takes for me to lose interest in your cute little whines." Not waiting for Shepherd to execute her orders, Nicole impatiently begins unbuttoning Shepherd's slacks. Slow, teasing touch pushes them down to mid thigh, hand sinking deep between the other's legs and yanking them apart. Shepherd gasps, drunk on the physical attention and the thrill of being so public with Commander Black, the alcohol in her system is the least intoxicating element she needs to worry herself over in this moment. Ever possessive fingers slide around to hook into her underwear and harshly pull it aside, the room's breath blowing against Shepherd's excitement and making her lightheaded. "Eyes up here, doll."

"A-Ah... gosh..." Gold reflects into her eyes and Shepherd feels the submission take hold of her like a clenched metal fist encasing her in corridors of want, fields of desire ripe for the harvest, a sudden urge to be good and let the older woman get away with anything she wants no matter how indecent. "Mmmeltiiinnnggg..."

"I haven't even started touching you yet, dear... you're certainly standing at attention like a good military woman, but you're dripping all over that nice lingerie I bought for you." Nicole's generous fingers stroke up Shepherd's stiffness, gripping it in her hand and redirecting that lust over her thigh. "Never knew I could have a taste for these things until someone as cute as you turned up to change my mind, I've always been partial to the strap but only using it of course, do you remember the glass one in my office? A lifetime ago, wasn't it?"

Nicole's subordinate twitches and throbs against that firm, commanding hold, too lost in the stare of submission to do anything but answer the woman plainly. "Yes... I want you even more than I did then... you're just..."

"Hmhm~ I may not be a heroine anymore in the eyes of the masses, but to sex addicted sluts like you I'm better than heroin. Ready for your next hit?" Mrs. Black's eyes dim again, fractionating Shepherd between different intensities of trance as her fingers barely even move, holding a twitching cock that doesn't need anything more than the warmth and softness of her superior's confident touch.

Shepherd almost chokes on the air in front of her, nodding eagerly and forgetting that she was ever in a room with other people, all that exists to her now is a golden goddess, as greedy as she is giving. All that exists to her now is pleasure in abundance, overwhelming her as it has so many who came before.

Pupils dilate with hearts practically encircling them from how dreamy and distant her gaze into the mirror becomes, Shepherd pledging herself to Nicole in mind, body and soul. Again and again she gives herself up, because at the end of the day, she's just the same as the rest of her wretched kind. 

It isn't long before she's a mess of mewl and writhing, Nicole's lap becoming a hotbed of pleasure she'd gladly kill to remain benefitting from. As the encore of a second climax finds itself smothered into silence by Nicole's hand around Shepherd's slutty mouth, the white haired woman can distantly hear the roll call begin. It's not an alphabetical head count, however, and she finds her name being called first. 

Time to look sharp, Shepherd!

Roll Call: Shepherd Stalks the Hangar

I reach for the ironed uniform sitting on my bed and sigh in memory of my date last night, at least what little I can remember from it. Nicole never brings me home now that she's busy with her project, so I've naturally come to resent that harlot stealing my partner's attention. It's an appropriate response to feel spite in this instance, I think, so I decide not to reprimand myself for the ugly spike of emotion that I have to swallow back like bile whenever I think of them together at work. I'm not entirely sure if Nicole thought I was being serious or just peppering her ego when I mentioned wanting to meet her new rifle in the flesh, but I've never been more serious. 

It should be cathartic to clear the air between us, even though I'm sure it will be a very one sided conversation given all I've heard about her training. Since the sessions were completed I have not managed to pry very much information from Nic's insatiable lips, nor have I managed to get myself invited to any of these field tests I'm in charge of getting the green light for. It hardly seems fair but I digress, my superior has never been one to concern herself over something so petty as fairness. Her way of thinking is on another level to mine completely, like she's devoured her own empathy whole and replaced the void with sickening self-assurance. Since the count began, results are all that make her happy. She'll get her 60% or the entire world will come to regret it. 

With impatient tapping of my foot as if I have any better use of my time while under Nicole's neglectful command, I stalk the hangar bay. If they stuck to the schedule I outlined after painstaking effort to get these damned things seeing some action, the test should be ending shortly. Of course there's no guarantee they won't run over but I'd expect Commander Black's training to have hammered in a stern sense of punctuality, discipline has to be her second favourite word after 'me'. 

There's no doubt Nic herself will be entering with her project in tow, making me nervous to see the woman again so soon after she scrambled my thoughts over dinner last night. By the time we got to the food it was already cold and I could barely lift my fork. I'm sure my superior would have gotten a kick out of having to cut my steak and feed it to me in small mouthfuls, the mere thought has me blushing to myself as I can't deny the allure of being pampered by a woman like her. Better still than pampering, I'm anticipating punishment over our next aligning free period... she won't take kindly to my ambushing them here, even if I did announce my intent last night. If I still thought Nicole paid attention to a word that came out of my mouth that isn't 'Yes', I'd be the airhead she likes to paint me as in her passionate teasing. 

I'm not just a pretty face, I'm a dignified woman with my own high ranking position regardless of how I attained it. My work speaks for itself I think, you don't spit on the help. Ah, that's a poor analogy in this instance, I'd be a throbbing mess if Mrs. Black did that, she even has the decency to stick around for aftercare on most nights she mistreats me. Maybe she's fucking right, we really are all the same, I can bleach my hair but strawberry submission lingers and binds. 

Is this our lot?

Thunk!

The sound startles me almost as much as the quaking that tests our base's structural integrity, what an unnecessarily harsh landing! I understand Nicole's entrances to be as delicate as a dancer, so have no trouble surmising who just returned to base and find my heart rate picking up. That was not the disciplined landing I had been expecting from a well trained rifle, it was so loud I didn't even hear Nic coming in alongside her. With hot breath blowing a tuft of silvery white hair from my face, hands deep in the pockets of combat trousers that have never seen the outside of an office before today, I steel myself for confrontation. I'm not expecting much of an exchange with the toy itself, obviously, but Nicole's mood could go either way here and I'm beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. I'm a Shepherd with no flock, you can hardly blame me for letting curiosity get the better of my judgement every once in a while. 

As I find myself helplessly lost in thoughts that get me nowhere fast, I hear the door to the hangar bay beep in anticipation of sliding open and revealing my commander and her tool for 'war'. After a few seconds it becomes apparent that the recent repairs to the door after an escaped detainee was unceremoniously launched through it... were not so successful. We've barely a functioning government and our military is a sideshow of its own, it only tracks that maintenance and repair would be just as tardy. 

Suppose they'll have to go around... which means I've been loitering in this corridor for the past half hour for noth--

Crash!

The muscles in my upper back clench and I brace for an impact that never comes, the faulty door slamming down onto the ground as chunky boots step over it in a nonchalant manner that you'd come to expect from a weapon with no real opinions of its own. It's just that, when I turn around, I find myself puzzled at the sight of said weapon entering the corridor by itself. Synthetic rubber creaks with each indifferent step through the corridor, Nicole's shiny new toy wearing a leather mask over her eyes with chrome grey metal covering. Cropped red bomber jacket hangs from the girl's shoulders, the sleeves not currently in use as the striking garment hides those arms tightly bound against her back. Did she really just kick the door down instead of going around? Actually, with her sight permanently robbed does she even know the other routes to her room here in the base?

Finding my voice again, I realise I need to raise it before this thing bulldozes me on her way through the thin corridor. "Hey, you... where's Commander Black? Are you supposed to be wandering around by yourself?" It's not the most authoritative speech I could have given, but at least now it's aware of my presence. 

Nicole's project stops just a metre away from my straightening form, high pony tail and parted bangs in that lush natural colour making feel like I could go back myself once the roots grow back in. To my surprise, her emotionless expression dies out like flickering flame and her face comes to life, a confident smirk daring to touch her lips. "I am, which you would know if you worked this floor. Question is, then, are you supposed to be bothering me? And... why do you have my voice? If you're one of Envy's spies I can kill you with just my legs, probably." 

She's not at all what I was expecting already, that curl on her lips making me want to strike her for insubordination even if she does make a good point I decide to brush aside. "I'm second in command here, so I'll address whomever I so please thank you very much. I want to know where Commander Black is." 

"Handler? She stayed behind a little longer to fight Envy's doll, I think she got a little too into it but I'd never suggest as much to her face hehe... uhm..." The weapon suddenly closes the distance between us in a flash and I forget she has Nicole's superhuman powers even if she no longer possesses that which unites the rest. Masked face invades my space without a care for hierarchy, she only has to answer to Commander Black and the unexpected brat appears to be well aware of this. So long as Nic is happy with her progress, the leash can be as long as it needs to be... so that's how it is? 

"Wh-what are you doing?" I know exactly what she's doing but I'd like her to explain it herself, the tool is more intimidating than I was prepared for as she encroaches upon my personal space and inhales through her nose. 

"You sound just like me, but you carry handler's scent, the perfume that makes it so hard to think or be disobedient. Funny, then, that I've no compulsion to follow your orders while you sound all pouty and bothered. Do you not like me or something? Wanna talk about it?" Nicole's ace grins as she connects the dots in her head, making me wonder why my superior hasn't removed all this unnecessary personality like I assumed she had. "Ohhh, you smell like her so... that means you're close to her right? Or like, she plays with you too, I mean. Is this a jealousy thing? Even if you're not with Envy you're certainly feeling it, huh? Envy. That's fun..." 

She's getting under my fucking skin so easily it's humiliating. My hand reaches down and I remove the stun gun from my belt, gripping it tight with whitened knuckles. "You'll follow my orders if you know what's good for you, whelp. Unlike you, I'm still a person, so you'd better--"

The woman who once called herself Hope lays her weight upon me and with a turn of her step has me pinned tight against the corridor wall, held in place by just her flat torso in its neoprene prison. Only a slither of her body is on display at her midriff, displaying the woman's navel and that horizontal scar she got a long time ago. "Not a very strong one, it would seem. Go ahead and shock me if you want, I fucking live for that feeling, you've no idea. Maybe your problem is that you're just a person. Anything that gets in the way of my mission handler says I'm allowed to--"

"Oh that's so fucking rich coming from you, of all people." My anger is all I can hide behind to shelter these mounting nerves, trapped between flat wall and impressive abs I'm ashamed to admit set our otherwise identical selves apart. "None of us here are just people, Joy, that's why we're here. I'm not jealous of a means to an end like you, let's be crystal clear on that. You might be Nic's hope, but I'm her woman. It was nice to meet you, traitor, but I've got places to be." For the first time in weeks I channel my vines, snaking them around the other's ankles in preparation to pull her into my orchard; she won't find any fruit to her liking in mine, only peaches white as my hair and the kicker's that we're both allergic. Guess it's as good a reflection of my state of mind as any, given my toxic dependency on Mrs. Black this broad only scratches the surface of. 

"So you are like Envy, that's concerning but ah... it's above my clearance I guess, handler can keep her secrets so long as we all dance to her tune right?" The weapon grins and lifts her leg, grinding heel into my roots without a hint of fear that I'll use them. 

"Does... does Nic know that you're like this? This isn't discipline, it's--" 

"I'm very well behaved for her, I'm exactly where she wants me to be. Run your mouth to mommy about how I spoke to you and I'll tank the next mission." She presses closer, her bodysuit creaking and flattening against my uniform. Nicole's stripped her of shame and inhibition, letting the brat wear her desires plain when she knew to hold back before. It really is the opposite of discipline and yet according to reports she's more tamed than ever, I'm sure it's a well meted give and take that I've just intruded on without thought for the consequence. "I'll totally fuck it all up, I'll ground myself in the dirt below, and I'll tell them I couldn't focus because you intimidated me." 

"Ah... you're." As the superpowered weapon pushes its leg between mine and brings her head over my shoulder to whisper that last part into my ear, I feel shame flood me like a drug and stiffen into her thigh helplessly. I'm so desperate for her to ignore it as I feel myself getting more turned on by the second, Nicole's made me so weak to any sort of dominance taking place in public setting. 

"You're getting off to this?" The tool hums in satisfaction, pushing her leg deeper into my crotch and making me groan out into that strawberry scented hair with a hint of oil slick. "I certainly don't have one of those, neither does Envy last time I checked. Suppose this is probably the only reason handler keeps you around now that she has a better trained toy who knows not to overstep her bounds, hm?" Lips brush my ear as I fight and lose against oncoming shiver. "Variety."

It's our lot, she tells me in a single lecherously loosened word. Tongue tickles my ear and hot breath makes mess of my composure, I can iron this uniform as much as I like and still feel crumpled. "Y-You've made your point, toy, but I don't think Nic would appreciate you being out of your room for this long."

"She likes it when I'm challenging, or I wouldn't still have my legs to carry me or my tongue to taunt insecure officers coming from other floors to embarrass themselves in front of their inventory. I run my mouth and Commander Black reprimands me for it, it's a mutual arrangement since I've stopped pretending I don't savour being so broken. Shatter morals, responsibility, doubt... I've my orders and my playtime, you don't factor into either of those as far as I'm aware and I'm not convinced that you aren't a spy for The Garden and its High Empress. Still... you're turned on by me pinning you here and pressing against you? Imagine if I had my arms~" Nicole's trophy titters and I realise that, while I initially thought she had warped its personality for some game of hers, this is simply Joy, or Hope, in her most honest form. No longer bound by the shackles of her humanity, she can admit exactly how much of a sex-driven slut she's become over these long years of being used. 

"I'm not removing your bindings, okay?" I can't help but stare, utterly fascinated by this woman at her most raw and unrefined form, broadcasting lust with just a sultry, eager mouth left for her to emote with. 

"Then I'll show you with my tongue. Let me demonstrate the difference between us, how better I'm able to please your woman when it's all I have to worry about while you've other priorities, the tedium of a life outside the confines of a handler. Here's the discipline you've been searching for, flower." Teasingly slow, I watch with horror, excitement and arousal as her face shadows mine and forceful lips pry mine apart with ease, her tongue delivering on its promise to spell the rift in our experience. I shamefully melt against the rough, overpowering kiss deliberate in its high volume, suckling tongue and smacking lips until Nicole's weapon has had its fill of me. 

I'm lightheaded, pulled into submissive headspace by the most unexpected candidate around, the world's most free use slut reducing me to the dirt clumping the soles of her boots. 

"There. Gosh... the entire time Envy had me, though I suppose that never really happened, she never let me get close to those perfect lips of hers. Soon enough she'll come to pay dearly for that, though to tell you the truth I hardly care which direction I'm aimed anymore. I can't defect now though... handler's just better at it than they were? She fits me like a glove, indulges me, permits my worst tendencies for her own thrill. Kissing Envy was on my bucket list but you're a good enough consolation prize, whatever the hell you are." Her weight finally eases off and the weapon turns away indifferently, finished playing with her new toy while I'm desperate for release now that she's got me all pent up. 

"Nicole will never love you..." I know I'm acting shamefully, but she's right, insecurity has me in its vice and the pressure is nauseating. 

Without turning back towards me, bent elbows clad in black peeking out from beneath that bright red jacket, Commander Black's hope speaks calmly. 

"I don't care, it's not her love that keeps me well behaved and gives me purpose. She won't love you either, which seems to bother you much more, so look out for yourself alright? That woman's love has long since run aground."

...

"Yeah..."

Roll Call: The Weapon Turns On

Deciding not to taunt that pitiful imitation any further, I step through the door after it reacts to the pass hanging from my hip. With casual march I return to my room and wait there patiently, no longer wondering so obsessively about the world outside these walls when I have everything I need here with her. Going out on field tests is an enjoyable reprieve from the base, but this is still my favourite room when I'm paid visit and reduced to toy by hands that know they needn't be gentle. Drifting in corridors of black for so long during my period of deprivation really rewrote my priorities, it gave me the time and clarity required to finally accept what a selfish creature I truly am. The writing was all over the walls, you need only look outside to see proof of my depravity, but now that I've been permitted to revel in it I truly feel that I've been set free. She stripped me bare and then reapplied the makeup in a manner most fitting, a whore without a day job to distract her from her desire. 

I am of course, still her rifle at the end of the day. Should she demand my grip and hook finger around trigger I'll do my duty in a heartbeat, I need her approval more than oxygen or this new lease on life will fall to pieces and leave me feeling hollow. With a contented hum I drop onto my knees beside the bed and practice sitting on my calves again for a little while as the ticking clock fractionates my mind into a thousand tiny pieces. 

After an undisclosed amount of time passes, the door to my room swings open and I'm shaken from the light trance, turning head towards the room's entrance and giving a trained smile; not too neutral, but not so eager as to appear wild. As much as I loved bragging to that imposter about how much of a challenge I can be, the truth is that the longer I'm made to wait, the easier the woman finds me. Over time I'll only become easier and easier, more susceptible to her smug instruction, wanting to be nothing but good lest I lose meaning in my continued existence here in this fail state of Joy. 

See, this isn't just brainwashing that can be removed with a firm slap like in the comics, she's changing my default and I find myself a willing assistant. I'm not only content to kiss my humanity goodbye, I'm complicit in it. I can't wait to be completed, make handler happy at my own expense and relish in how pathetic it is that I won't lift a finger to stop her.

"Good afternoon. It's good that you're already on your knees I suppose, hell of a fucking skirmish... she can't be hit at all, it's infuriating. You'll make for good stress relief, though I've got to be honest you're in direct competition with this cigarette I've been waiting on all day." Pronounced footfalls describe my handler's journey to the window, prying it open and sparking flame with the lighter in her hand. I'm made to wait patiently as the base commander takes a long drag and sighs out in relief, my imagination running wild at what she might look like in this moment. My mind paints a perfect picture of handler in striking black against the room's white, blowing a puff of smoke like a dragon sitting over her hoard. The woman won't love me, but I am her treasure, so I know that she'll take very good care of me in the end even if she doesn't mind taking the necessary risks. "You know, Misty made me quit these deathsticks in the first place and now she's got me back on them, competitive bitch. I know I'm fighting with ghosts here but I can indulge the distraction, I'm fairly certain I can't get cancer so what's the harm in a vice or two, hm? Haven't I earnt it?"

My head perks up and I nod emphatically. "Smoke until your lungs are as black as the rest of you, I say." 

"My, someone's feeling themselves today, impressive confidence given you had to return to base early. I let you play pretend at having a personality because it amuses me and because I know you mean to burn out on it in time, but I do hope you remember what you are?" Commander Black turns away from the window and sits down on the bed, kicking a boot onto my thigh as she takes another drag from her smoke. 

"Of course, I'm your weapon. Anything else is unnecessary fluff that can be switched off at the snap of your fingers. I've committed to you because you know how best to defile me. I'm devoted to you, handler, because you take my shame away and let me revel in my own depravity. I'm obey you unconditionally, handler, because you don't maintain any pretence of treating me as anything but a rifle. I... you can put your cigarette out on my tongue and I won't even flinch, promise, I'll speak with a lisp for however long it takes to heal if it satisfies you." Shuffling on my knees to better face my handler, I let her perfume turn my pride inside out, complete mental prolapse. Slowly, my tongue lolls out and without my eyes to watch closely I'm unable to ascertain the level of contemplation on the good commander's face, unable to accurately know if and when that sudden burn will press down and set my ego ablaze at personal suggestion. I'd let the woman make my mouth her personal ashtray and thank her for the trouble. I seem to take pleasure in knowing that if this time we spend is undone and reduced to but a vision, my existence will be a permanent cigarette burn against that naive superhero's mind that will hopefully allow handler to take advantage even more efficiently next time around.

"You're my ticket to the ninth circle, girl, I hope you know that." I can almost feel her perfect golden eyes greet gunmetal gaze, a hand reaching forwards to ruffle my hair while she takes another drag and contemplates my offer. "I won't hurt you today. Despite your blunder with the rook today, I'm actually very pleased with your recent performance, in fact you've exceeded all expectations. Before I came here I checked your sync rate... 65%. It's really working, this is the fruit of my labour. A tool like you does not need to understand, but know how important you are to this world. I speak of the you before me, not that clump of formless clay I had to sculpt you from. Once, you were invisible, but now the world will notice."

"Then do I get a reward?" Is all that I can think to say, never quite following handler's more wordy rants. That sounds like a problem for the outside world, I'm perfectly content in my ignorance as Commander Black's leather grip tightens in my hair and makes me feel right in my place. 

"You don't need one. You're still on bargaining I see, but it'll pass. That being said... I've mind to watch you whine for me before I call it a day here, so you'll get your pleasure as by-product of mine. For you, weapon, satisfaction and reward is... merely collateral." Handler leans over to pull open the bedside table's drawer, retrieving massage wand I know better than to touch while I'm in here alone. Leather harness hangs from the vibrator, monocolour mistress securing it tight to one of those long black boots and adjusting the speed to the lowest setting. Even without my sight I follow every step and know exactly what she's doing, waiting for that crisp finger-snap before pulling my hips up and lowering them back down against the woman's boot. 

"Mmgh..." I sit upon the boot of the only person I crave the attention of in this world of Black, pushing myself forwards with arms still tightly bound behind my back and knowing the stimulation of this slow whirr won't get me off half as much as handler's toxic affirmation. 

"I'm still feeling competitive after my other half showed me up yet again today, she was never much of a fighter in our past lives but she's more than making up for it in this new age. You told me about how you rode her boot, yes? I admire the discipline of the belt they put you in and the way they'd have you put on a whimpering show for them, sure, but allowing you to reach climax in that state is sloppy, it lessens the power of the symbol. In fact if she had trained you half as well as she thought she had in that precognitive reality, you would not have needed the belt at all. There's a saying: Easy to learn, hard to master. You've got a surprisingly high skill ceiling for one so easily claimed. I suppose this cycle of breaking you, the wheel you adore so even if you try to deny it in your lesser states, is a resistance training of its own. How nostalgic, perhaps you've still got a shot with the Nova Hero Agency, hm?" The woman produces a throaty chuckle devoid of amusement, still gripping my hair tight to keep me firm against her boot and the vibrator that I wouldn't pull away from to save the world. At a snap from my handler, though, I'd sacrifice my pleasure in a heartbeat. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that you've likely come to consider yourself fragile goods, that you were always a weakling just waiting for immoral women to get their hands on your soft, malleable personage. A fragile mind would have fractured into a broken tool without any uses at all, you're compatible with my program because you know to lean into the drift, you seek the thrill of submission as an escape from the mundanity of your tedious little life. Even with faceless fans you felt invisible, just another extra in my theatre, but this? You don't truly break because we're not bending you into any shape you don't secretly approve of, for something to truly break you need resistance, not performance. I believe this is what makes you a truly pathetic person, Joy, and I thank you for it."

"Hahh... Joy? That's not..." With Murmur I could relax and throw myself against her leg, wrap hands around it and succumb to base instinct until the audience had been sated. With Commander Black, I need to focus on staying upright, train my body with every passing second to be her perfect tool... consequences be damned.

"No, it's not your name. Thanks for proving my point, rifle. You don't have a name, you don't need a name, does a craftsman name their tools? Does a soldier name their weapon? Sometimes, I suppose, but it's only ever at their owner's whim. You're perfect when you're with me, I know just how to treat you, how to take away the doubt and uncertainty and raise you up as willing participant in your own conquering." Handler's fingers pull my head back, tilting it up as I wait for her to claim my mouth with breathless anticipation. "You need me. Say it."

"I-I need you, handler, without your strict tutelage I'm... flawed." My words are simply an extension of her own, speaking just as she would, which suits the woman who loves the sound of her own voice just fine. Before I can take a breath from finishing my sentence, the woman invades my mouth and I melt against a tongue more powerful and commanding than my entire being. She had once feigned fragility in her efforts to manipulate me, but all pretence is dropped as I bask in the sheer vigour of her and die little deaths against vainglorious muscle in my mouth. This weapon's maw opens wider to allow her violation more freedom, supine spirit buckling against the ejected mass of an exploding star, obliterating supernova kisses until the twilight calls curtains. 

Crepuscular glow spills into the room from the window handler left open, illuminating nothing as our dirty acts take refuge in the shade. A woman who is many things to me pulls away from her canvas of correction and wipes the spit from my slutty face with smooth leather touch. The woman is my handler, my commander, my mother and my lover. To her, I am simply a tool for her war on this world. My body is a rifle, see how it shoots. 

"I can see you worshipping me from behind that pretty mask, want me to take it off?" Hand falls atop my head again and fingers spread. I feel the regent's sceptre, an accessory to my superior to complete her image. 

"Never." My hips roll in steady uniform rhythm against the massage wand that vibrates the woman's boot. My pleasure is a rifle. 

"Very good. I suppose it's rather telling that even sending you out with a team, that unrefined girl failed just as quickly as she had on her own. You were right about it being rigged, this was always to be your place once we reached the 30s... but still I had meant for you to spend a little more time with that pitiful team I prepared for you. Not many takers for the mission but honestly, they were perfect for what I wanted. All but that hellhound who advanced the script a little too eagerly, anyway, her haste has not appeared to have interfered much given your current rate so I suppose I'll let it slide. This is why I had to take over in the first place, The Garden is a disappointment compared to how I once ran the city and everyone knows it. You'll be fine with me from now on, flower..."

Her thumb pushes into my mouth and presses down my tongue, causing me to salivate as I pant against her supreme touch. 

"So you can forget all about Brie."

Roll Call: Brood Scorns the Wheel

My fists shake with a quiet sense of violence I have no outlet for, sitting with legs spread and head hung low as Sage touches down in Envy's domain with a glance back at my slumped posture. To think that she'd use that tech of hers to rip me away from Hope before I could reach through to the stupid girl. It didn't appear that she was even registering my words by the end, her eyes appeared lost in a memory, or perhaps a fantasy. A vision, maybe, of a future folks like us ain't privy to. 

"Hey, look sharp even if it's a bother, okay? Even if we took your memories of it, you're a big deal around here so you better carry yourself like the proud bitch you are! You'll be fine, Brie, wars only end when both sides stop fighting right?" Sage climbs down and opens the hatch at the back of this craft I'd be scrutinising every detail of were I not too preoccupied with thoughts of rust blonde infatuation. It's only puppy love, Brie, get your damn self together and face the music. That's right, once I exit this craft I'll be bending the knee and reigniting my loyalty to The Garden's Empress and I realise my chances to back out of that decision expired long before I boarded this craft.

Without certainty or grace, my boots land down onto the helicopter pad atop Nova tower and the view I'm given is enough to illustrate just how in the fucking dark I've been. "What's going on here, Sage?"

"I'm just a spare, I don't really have the authority to explain anything you see here. I won't blame you for being inquisitive but try to behave yourself in there alright? I'm going to stay here and fiddle with my girl here, Mint's as much a germaphobe as I am, go figure, and you were in her seat." Sage grins and looks back at the peculiar hulk of metal before us. If that thing is property of The Garden then what the hell was it doing in Nova's hangar? Did Sage use us to retrieve her stolen tech? Nah, that's too elaborate even for psychos like these. 

"Dick... if I got it dirty just remember who wouldn't let me take a shower during my week of captivity." That's right... it took just a week for Nova's claws to sink into that girl's mind and have her launching me like just another foe. I feel compelled to try and help her, though I can't be sure it isn't just my lingering loyalty to Envy. Loyalty I mean to rekindle soon enough, even if it means my wants will no longer be my own. If I'm being completely honest the escape suits me just fine when I currently want what's definitively out of my fucking reach. "So I'm just going in there alone?"

"What, you're nervous or something?" Sage runs a cloth over the lime green paintwork, dragging her hand down to the orange section where the dirt is most noticeable. Do they not have dryads to do this for them?

"Not in the slightest..." Fists clenched by my sides, I turn my back to the woman who proves no help at all to my mental reservations. Envy's a user, they're all users... loving what they do to you doesn't make you any less of a victim, I think we'd all do well to keep that in mind. The kicker, of course, is that we can't. Knowing I won't be able to ignore the distraction should Sage decide to open her mouth again, I quickly make for the rooftop entrance and step hesitantly into tower interior. 

Fledgling steps carry me down the stairs into Nova Tower's top floor, that penthouse office where Envy made her throne. As I push through the roof access door with hands in my pockets to show these people just calm and collected I am, I peer through the glass walls in the corridor to find the top floor office anticlimactically empty. Wanting to make sure, I open the door and enter just as elevator doors slide open behind me. I'm half way into the throne room, staring at that ebony seat fit only for an empress pushed off into the corner as a relatively mundane desk fills the centre of the room, when arms clad in black slide through my arms and delicately wrap themselves around my waist. Naturally I tense up, freezing in place against frigid touch that commands my stillness. 

"I watched the Mantis flying up to the roof and got out of my meeting as soon as I could. I'm so glad you're home, Brie, even if you had to suffer Mint's piloting." Long, raven black hair spills over my shoulder as the floral scented woman at my back holds me close. I'm not even sure what to do or say, still paralysed by fear and confusion. 

"I ah... Mint? You mean Sage, her sister?" Perhaps it's a coping mechanism of sorts, but I focus on the least pressing issue first instead of asking this woman who she is, how she knows me, or just what the hell is going on here. 

There's a short pause before the woman nods her head against my shoulder. "Silly me, I forgot that you're..." Arms slip back and I quickly step forwards, turning my fastest 180 yet as I lay eyes upon the overly familiar figure. Long black bangs cover the left half of her face while the hair on her right side is tucked back, flowing down her back like a cape to complement the dark dress that hugs her shapely form. Deep burgundy lips part to speak and then purse, from just the right side of her face I can identify this woman, even when she's changed the rest of her body dramatically. The inner edge of that black curtain covering half her face has streaks of white, though I know better than to assume her a magpie. 

"Envy?" There's uncertainty in my voice, even if her face is a dead ringer she looks far too... mature. 

"My McIntosh, you look so lovely even with such complicated expression on that face I made for you. I know well that look you're giving me, though it's rare to see it so symmetrical." Envy steps forwards with echoing heel click against dark obsidian mirror. "Oh, where's your ring?" Her hand lunges and grabs firm hold of my wrist, vines spilling out from the open back of her gothic dress and flopping down onto that black, reflective floor. She tilts my hand and I'm too taken aback by the situation to fight her touch, staring down at the myriad rings I wear and recalling the only one I've lost since beginning the mission. 

"O-Oh, that? What does it matter?" My gaze expertly shies away from the pitying glance that raises to meet me from single piercing eye. A chill runs down my spine at the implication that loop of gold could have meant anything to me. 

"Where did you lose it?" Envy's voice takes on a stern, motherly tone that certainly fits her new look. This woman's the same height as I am while Hope had to lean up on the tips of her toes just to kiss me. Ah, dammit, I wish we had more time together... if Sage was on our side the entire time why did she have to go and ruin everything? 

"I don't remember where, exactly. It all looked the damn same." I grunt out impatiently, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the fact I've a gap in my memory that I was told I consented to, but never received proof. 

Envy sighs and gives a thin smile, vines hanging down and sprouting into those tiny tendrils I remember all too well, her calm demeanour distracting me from that rapid plunge that drops me deep into floaty bliss. My entire body lights up with pleasure and I grit my teeth, staring the woman down as she probes my mind, feasting on memory from a week prior with a light curl to her lips. It's a wistful, nostalgic smile she holds as she pries into my personal affairs. "Ah, here. And... gosh, hers too?"

Numb delight keeps me docile and drooling, a line of spit dangling from my cracked lower lip as I succumb to her tendril touch. It's not a pleasure you can combat, my resistance a dull knife that finds itself wrapped up in her delicate warmth. Heat burns away the rough edges and I find soft smile creep onto my dizzy, drooling lips. And then, just like that, Envy notices my twisted reverie and ejects herself from my ears with an embarrassed laugh. 

"You really should be more careful with your valuables, both of you." The woman states dismissively as I sag forwards with weak knees and her vines catch me in my fall. 

"Oh yeah? Well you already took the crown jewels." I spit out with a bitterness I can't truly commit to, both of us knowing that this body makes me euphoric. 

Envy scoffs, placing me back onto my feet while stepping past me to look out over the city, a view I choose to ignore for the sake of an already waning sanity. "Actually, I had no part in that. I was happy for you, though, before it all went to shit. I've been asking myself this more and more, recently, but is this our lot? In a way you're lucky, enviable, not knowing. Fiction is much more preferable to reality, Brie, perhaps this is the only thing I can bring myself to agree with that woman on."

"Are you... are you not going to reclaim me now? I've returned to you, semi-reluctantly I'll admit, and you're not unifying me right away?" I must sound pathetic, pleading for an easier defeat as I ignore the reality at my back. 

"Ooh, is that what you want, McIntosh apples in my orchard once more? It would please me greatly to share my thoughts with yours more intimately, as we once had, but is it what you really want?" Envy's roots crawl across the ground, writhing in excitement and nipping at my boots. The self-styled empress turns away from the window and fixes her eye on mine. 

Stepping closer as the roots climb up my ankles, I give the woman an accusatory glower to remind her I'm not currently so loyal and forgiving, so willing to frame her deception as a necessary evil. "Since when do you fucking care?" 

"I'm more selective in my unification these days, love." Hope's spitting image stares me down intensely, her gaze winning out against mine even with half the eyes. My softened stare flicks down to those vines at my feet and I realise I understand much less about The Garden than I thought. 

My mouth opens to ask her all the questions I have bouncing around my head, a frustratingly high number that seems to have increased tenfold over the past few minutes alone, but then I feel that lump in my throat and bite my lip. 

"Better that you reintegrate gradually, organically, like the flowers in my garden ever sprouting hehe... I've been a bad mother to you all, it even slipped my mind that you'd be returning without a full deck. There's a girl waiting in your room, I let her up without thinking. Be gentle with her, she's a fragile flower, most of them are." Envy exhales air from her nostrils in a facsimile of snort, sitting down at her desk like she's about to clock in for a regular shift in the office. "Helena's outside, she'll lead the way as I'm guessing you no longer remember where you used to lay your head, at least for a time." The woman leans forwards on her elbows, intent to watch me leave as I look out through the glass to see a revised dryad waving at me awkwardly. 

"Uh, thanks. Be seeing you, then." I'm not sure what else to say, making for the door in a scatter-brained shuffle as I consider just how differently this played out to what I'd been anticipating. 

Envy taps nails against her desk restlessly, lifting her head up to see me off even if she appears like a woman with the weight of a world on her shoulders. "Take care, Brie, it'll... it'll all be over soon. A nightmare for my broodmare, just close your eyes and count the days."

"R-Right, sure." I exhale my final breath of cloying, compromised air before quickly stepping out into the hallway and breathing deep. It's not as concentrated as Peony's gas but it certainly carries the same scent, Envy didn't even seem aware that she was producing it, natural pheromones to a woman more plant than human. Speaking of which... my head cocks right and I shoot the dryad an unsure smile, realising that Envy called her 'Helena' and silently wondering what the hell that was about. 

"Hey you, still too mindfucked to remember us?" The woman rests hand on her hip, smirking at this dumbfounded look on my face like she gets personal satisfaction from seeing me so lost. It's not like me to broadcast my vulnerability so openly, I suppose. "You said it'd be the highlight, forgetting us, though we suppose you wouldn't know huh?" I drink in the sight of her refined dryad form and give a lightly lecherous whistle to try and regain my defensive swagger. Envy's tree nymph appears much softer and fully realised than the beings of jagged bark I remember, her pale green skin adorned with darker green vines like tattoos that run over her limbs. No leaves protect her modesty, I notice, the smug dryad's slit glistening with dewy ambrosia. Her body is lathered in that golden sap I recently became reacquainted with, knowing that with just a touch she could weaponize my lust to make me disturbingly malleable for her. 

"So, you're Helena? I only ever knew you dryads as Hive, if we called you anything at all." My hands slip into the pockets of this worn leather jacket, better keep them to myself around someone coated in aphrodisiac glaze. 

The appropriately titled nymph gives me an inhuman laugh, telling me that she's more than used to this new form and feeling better for it. "We're all Helena, honey, we're no longer pretending to be anything else. We're proud servants of Envy's Garden, she freed us from a life in Nova's shadow and permitted us to lean into our new evolution. Hivemind is a dead moniker, discarding old names is a commonplace occurrence around here what with Envy and yourself being much the same. Helena is actually a resurrection of name, we endured so many years stripped of it until the silly nickname became all we were. Now if you're satisfied questioning this servant we should leave our Empress be and head down to your room, we kept it mostly as you left it."

"Good... I think. God, I'm so fucking turned around. There a bar in this building? You... Helenas... can do pretty much everything right?" It's weird giving a human name to something that seems to pride itself on being subservient plant collective living to serve their master's whims. Glossy fingertip calls the elevator and doors immediately slide open, indicating that it hasn't moved. 

"Nova had us posted all around the city, undercover. We learned pretty much every single service profession to a high quality, though never knew we'd be so grateful for that experience in our immediate future. Envy really does treat us well, for what it's worth our pledge to her is an enthusiastic one." The self-assured dryad saunters into the elevator and I quickly follow in after, careful not to touch her still as we share the small space. As the doors slide closed I notice the change in atmosphere, the nymph's floral scent not quite as potent as Envy's but still dangerous in its own right. 

The conversation seems to come to a natural end, my thoughts too occupied with that thick smog of lust that coats my lungs in constant threat as we descend the floors. Helena notices my struggle and smirks, mockingly fanning herself. "Stuffy in here? You're still the slut we remember, Brie, desperate for any distraction to take your mind off... hm? Wow, you really do have no tolerance to our kind huh?"

Is it really so obvious? I'm leaning my back against the elevator wall taking shallow breaths as heat surfaces on my cheeks. My judgement feels compromised as I stare at the dryad with newfound desire I can barely restrain, having spent most of my effort back in Envy's presence. Even if she isn't human, or perhaps because of it, I can't deny that exotic allure complimented with dryad drizzle. The sight of her, the scent of her, tickles the back of my mind and urges surrender in ways I know aren't natural. I'm not a submissive, I like to be in control, even if the majority of my time during sex is spent making sure my partner is having the best possible time. My own pleasure has never really been as much a concern as my satisfaction, I'm a hunter entertaining prey, I'm--

"Brie, mind if we get a little closer? We wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, honey, but there might be other passengers. Here... why don't we just..." Without waiting for my response, mouth too dry to make one in time besides, Helena steps closer and smothers me in the rich ambrosial musk. I can feel myself growing weaker for her and I hate it almost as much as I crave it. 

"Y-You're..."

"Want to touch it, the sap you keep staring at like a thirsty horse looking for water? My, once a mare... we remember helping our mistress convert that shy, awkward boy who looked like he didn't want to leave the house, into someone striking and prideful. She didn't even need to change your personality at all, you just finally had the confidence to let yours shine through without holding back. Helping people realise what they truly are is such a thrilling feeling, you've no idea. We Helena are responsible for Envy's sapphic awakening, though we're not so self important as to consider ourselves the only avenue leading to our empress reaching the throne. A compass does not celebrate its use, hm?" Helena giggles and draws a step nearer, making it harder for me to ignore just how overbearing her presence is now. Temptation is a crow, and I'm ever the hunter. Even in such a pitiful, vulnerable state, my lust becomes a beckoning caw.

"I uh... I'm not going to touch you... Envy told you to t-take me to my room, yeah?" Her body is so unique and alluring, a part of me knows that if I give in and reach towards the seductive dryad I won't be able to stop. I'll completely lose myself in her to take my mind off everything else, just like she said. 

Helena hums, serene and unbothered by her own indecency as the sapphic nymph presses her slick body against mine, impossibly long tongue stroking over her lips in mesmerising motion. There is a celestial cruelty to her expression, one of a practiced whore stripped of inhibition in favour of becoming nothing but an unruly extension of Envy's dominance, an insatiable trophy not content to sit upon her shelf and behave as she should. This is a creature of temptation, Envy's deviant limb that succumbs to her own pent up desires all too quickly, miscreant mouth speaking sultry words with breath that heats my face. "Then... I suppose I'll have to do the touching, hm~?" 

"Ah..." The dryad raises her delicate hand and I flinch instinctively, remembering the way she struck me back when Envy first made me into a woman for her, before I became one for myself. Instead of a smack, the hand approaches slowly and yet I do not tilt away, feeling soft and sticky palm caress my cheek with amorous smear. The love drug coats my skin and whispers sweet nothings into the pores on my face, lubricating my inhibitions until I start to lose grip on them. Her hand, heavenly sweet, cups my cheek as her lips draw near. "K-Kiss me?" I give into her provocation all too easily, there were so many chances to deny her advances and I watched the teasing temptress take every little step without uttering a word of serious protest. Intimacy like this is a plaster and I'm a rough and tumble woman. "Please? I'm--"

Ding!

My heart sinks, elevator doors sliding open and a shuffling of feet spilling into the stuffy cage that has my heart in jowls. Predatory vice touch even a huntress such as I can't compete with pets my cheek mockingly, Helena's eyes feeding off my embarrassment with succubus stare that holds my own. 

"Ahhhhh, the nerve of that doll, thinks it's such a hotshot." One of the new riders exclaims with a sigh, throwing herself into the opposite corner of the elevator and whistling at the sight of us pressed against the wall. "Oh, Helena's found a new playmate."

The other woman returns a shy laugh, glancing over at us and shuffling closer to her companion. "If we count an extra dryad in the building tomorrow, we know why hehe. Envy's Darwinism, right?" I'm burning up at the way they're discussing us as though we can't overhear, my pride urging me to push away and compose myself while my current state of surrender firmly holds me back. 

"Don't even go there, Aya, I'm paranoid enough around them. Think you've got it in you to swing by Tri's party tonight or do you wanna go straight home?" The one with the deeper voice nudges the other with her elbow and Helena notices me becoming distracted, tilting my face back towards her with a light squeeze of my sticky cheek that has me feeling meeker than ever. 

"Ehh... she's no sister of ours, made that pretty clear. Not sure what she thinks she has to celebrate, honestly." Bitter speech has Aya's partner snorting unpleasantly in acceptance. 

"Sure, sure. You realise I'm only so committed to the cause because I have a cutie like you to hang off the shoulder of, right?" Distantly I hear the shuffling of bodies as the more dominant of the two mirrors my own pose with Helena against the opposite wall, claiming her partner's mouth without a hint of shame in the fact that they're not alone. I suppose we started it, though Helena has yet to actually kiss me even after I swallowed my pride and pleaded.

The lovers' lips part and the woman pinned to the wall hums contentedly, clinging to the blonde boxing her in. "Laura..."

The elevator dings and Laura hovers over her companion, giving one last suckling kiss against the other's neck that's sure to leave a mark, I'd know. "This is us, babe." Speaks the blonde in an utterly smitten voice, making me feel slightly jealous as the two file out into the hall. Given what I overheard, I'm surprised they're not riding all the way down to the ground floor.

Doors slide closed and Helena giggles, stepping away in a motion that would make a weaker girl, like Hope, pout so cutely. "Didn't want to say hi to your old friends, Brood? Don't tell us you've forgotten those two as well?" 

"Of course not, though I didn't know Firefly and Mana had gotten so close... it'd mess with my image to have been noticed like that, you're killing me here woman..." I find myself able to think just a little more clearly with the sliver of fresh air and the new distance between us. 

"Oh my, you sound just like Nic. Image this, image that... how's this for an image Brie?" The tree nymph takes several steps back as that scent grows weaker, her back collapsing against the opposite wall where Mana had just been pinned, hips pushed out with two fingers dancing down to part that dewy slit. Helena presents herself proudly and I realise we really are alike in a sense, both gifted new forms we adore more than we could know how to express with words. Her expression is lewd and indulgent, the hand not between her legs giving me a show as she gropes at her own chest and pivots from scent to sight with her ceaseless seduction. "Really burn this view in, okay? We can bring in more bodies if that's your thing?"

"Why are you doing this?" I cross my arms, breath still irregular as I watch her with growing lust. Sometimes I still expect a stiffening in my pants, but this throbbing feeling really isn't much different. 

Helena cocks her head, smirking derisively. "You think you're special? We're always hooking up when we can, plenty more lesbian sluts in the sea. We've five on the go right now, yourself included, so don't act like this means anything. Do you really not want to touch us? There's no place in Envy's garden for liars you know? Stop fooling yourself and fuck us already, hot stuff~" Her hips gyrate in the empty space, mouth-watering movement from such an erotic form. Helena appears to take satisfaction in making every part of her as pornographic as possible, she isn't just a nymph she's a nymphomaniac. The woman must have been holding herself back for years before such a tempting crow flew into her lap, these fucked up folks are liable to blame Joy for being too enticing to ignore, blame her weakness as irresponsible lack of self-preservation. I despise them all so much, and yet... 

"So I can touch you how I like?" I'm only human, swallowing bile of shame, crushing my own disgrace in clenched fists as I find myself the one to close that gap between us this time around. "If I make you squirm, will it make all of you react? I don't feel like being gentle, okay?" 

The dryad bites her lip performatively, laced touch dragging down my arm before gripping my wrist, pulling hand between her legs and letting me feel that power I crave even with her obviously in control. That's no matter, I'll have her breaking against my fingers soon enough, tightening around my touch like I'm the only one who knows how to fuck her right. I'm surprisingly good at this nowadays, I guess being part of the wheel occasionally has its upsides. "Take as much as you like, Brood, we can always give more."

I give the woman a snarky laugh, my hand gripping her sex with the dominance I know she loves, finally pushing into a kiss that coats my lips in her drugged sap. I dare not engage with her tongue just yet, imagining how much it must upturn rational thought given the pre-emptive tingles on my brain from just a precursory peck. "Mmgh... good girls get more." I mutter the slogan I adopted from this plant's former colleague, breathing deep her floral scent and letting my eyes flutter as her tempting body urges me into domspace. 

"Oh shit, I lost track of time!" Helena suddenly pushes down on my wrist and gives apologetic smile, sap smearing my skin and making me more confused and needy than ever. "They're initiating the... mmh... I'm needed elsewhere, sorry!" The dryad's gaze dims and she appears to enter some sort of standby, leaving me hovering over her pent up and once more lost in all this madness. My chest rises and falls a few times without a word spilling from my lips besides 'fuck'.

After what feels like a century, the elevator dings and I realise it to be the floor Helena pushed the button for, lucky number seven. Not knowing where to go, I step out into the corridor and take a few uncertain steps while glancing back at the woman who made me all flustered for nothing... guess that's just my luck, huh? One of these days I'll learn not to let a good thing slip through my fingers, but it sure won't be today. 

"Brie?" A voice from ahead ushers my gaze away from those closing elevator doors and I look down at the blonde who stops only a foot away, giving me a shy smile good enough to eat. "I ah, Envy said I could wait in your room but then I started to get nervous and then you weren't showing up and then--"

"Hey, calm down." It's only natural for the girl who leans into my touch as I hold her shoulders to assume that I'm talking to her. The sight before me is making me want to lie down and wake up in an alternate reality where everything makes sense again. She's the spitting image of Joy, or Hope, though her makeup is heavier and her hair is a pretty fair blonde. White lace dress hugs her curves expertly, small leather bag a matching ivory accessory hanging from her shoulder. "I... which one's my room? Wanna sit down and talk? I've had a day." Still having one, the prospect of getting to sleep sometime soon has never seemed like such an appealing escape before. 

The girl who looks like Joy Williams nods with a smile that appears more rehearsed than genuine, leading me a few doors down and then knocking before laughing at her own mistake and turning the handle. Is this girl all there? I follow the ditz inside and close the door behind me, wondering if I should lock it before deciding against that for the time being. It's a fairly standard looking apartment, I remember Nova's whole speech about providing free living spaces for members of her agency who would benefit from such an arrangement. What a kind and wonderful woman, right?

"Sorry to ambush you like this, they said you'd left for a while but were coming back and... aha, I guess a part of me wondered if you'd actually moved and told them to say that." The Joy-like sits down on the edge of the corner sofa in the centre of the room while I take a moment to admire the view before joining her. 

"Right..." I'm not sure if I should tell her that I don't even know who she is, as funny as that seems when I'm so familiar with that face returning weak smile. 

"I didn't come here for uh, business. I just wanted to apologise to you about before, everything you said was right. I didn't know all the facts, Madam never bothered to inform me." The blonde folds hands in her lap after brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and giving another polite giggle. She's so cute, I feel sick to my stomach. 

Without thinking, I shuffle closer on the couch and find myself unpleasantly aware of just how pent up I am after that elevator ride, not that I'm the type to take that out on others. The woman's perfume smells expensive, but it's not drugged with anything but the usual feminine charm. "Sorry, you're really sweet but... I don't quite remember what it is that you're talking about. What do you mean by uh, business?" 

The girl whose name I've felt too awkward to ask for turns bright red and I'm not sure if she's flustered from embarrassment or frustration, shuffling in her awkward sitting position with lips parting slowly to respond. "Hey, I'm here because I was worried about you, don't act all clueless... I just didn't want you to think that I'd still come to offer you my services now I know... I mean, gosh that's messed up of them to arrange right? Y-You said so yourself, so why're you l-looking at me like that?"

Huh? I sit up straight like a predator caught reeling back for a lunge, scratching my cheek and wondering how I was looking at her. I won't pretend I'm not attracted to her, I was foolish enough to think I had a chance at something more meaningful with that prey I'd picked up all too briefly. If I blame any lecherous stares on Helena working me up, I'm no better than her after all, so I compose myself as best I can with an embarrassed chuckle of my own. "Sorry, sorry! You're really cute, no offence..."

"Well of course you'd think so... why would I be offended by that?" Her blush lights up the room, even if her presence here should give me pause. 

"If you're... what I think you are, a professional I mean... I don't think I'd be so against receiving your services. Cute girl like you, I'm not sure what kinda stick past me had up her ass but I'm... I could really do with something like that right now, though I'm not sure if you've got a tab?" I feel so slimy, but am I do anything wrong? If she's an escort in my room, blushing at the mere charm of me... god I sound like such a fucking narcissist, I don't want to prove Helena right and sound anything like that woman.

The girl stares at me, searching my face for deception like she's worried I might be mocking her. Her confusion really makes me wonder what the big deal is here, realising I've no idea what the appropriate way to talk to a sex worker is. Dignity and respect, of course, but I still worry I might be stepping on toes somehow. I wanted to take this woman's doppelganger over the sea to places untold and now I'm considering using her spitting image as comfort and distraction... yeah, I can see why that might be just a little fucked up. Still, I can't stop thinking that she's cute, it's driving me up the damn wall.

"You're always calling me cute. I really hope you mean it." 

"You serious? Being as cute as you are should be a crime, I mean it. I'm not sure what to even do with it all some days."

"Well then I'm an outlaw, aren't I? So I think you need to tie me up until the powers that be come and lock me away with all the other cute criminals."

"Careful what you wish for, Flower. C'mere."

"H-Hey, what're you doing?" My company pushes me back with a hand against my advancing face, looking like she's about to kick me in the sternum for just a second before reconsidering. 

I'm snapped back into the room and reel back with doe-eyed stare, landing my ass onto the couch and swallowing drily. "I-I didn't... I wasn't... shit, I swear I'm not that much of a scumbag I just--"

"It's okay, really. I think I found the culprit, she must've got you good huh?" Joy-like holds her hand into the light, revealing the traces of aphrodisiac sap and giving me convenient excuse for my sudden advances, her smile a sweeter one than I surely deserve. 

Perhaps she's right, like the coward I am I'm all too eager to take the easy out and ignore that strange moment. You can't fuck a gal twice and then act overly familiar with her... clone? Sister? I'm realising I know so little about the woman this could well just be a twin, without all the superpowered fuckery I mean. "Thanks, no offence but I'm kind of surprised you've got the freedom to uh... y'know."

"Well, it's not like I want to refuse a hothead like you, gosh you're like... just my type. If mother requested it directly I'd do it, if I thought it'd help her I'd do a lot of things... not that all of us see eye to eye on that, she's used some of us for terrible things and can't just take that back, you know? Like the forest on North Star Island or that proxy. Then there's the one Nova keeps as a pet, truly pathetic..."

"Hope? I mean uh, Joy?" I can't help but interject, leaning forwards again but keeping my hands to myself. The 'mother' she's referring to must be Envy, painting an odd picture as I wonder just how many splits she's made in the short time I've been away. Am I missing something obvious here? 

"Oh, no. A different kind of traitor, this one sucks up to Nova out of choice, our childish crush on that woman seems to be all she lives for now." A different kind of traitor, huh? The words play on my mind and sour my mood some, sitting back again and inspecting this woman who sits on my couch. She's her own person now, does Envy think herself a god to create new life like this? Free will can be a terrifying thing, on that I can agree with the girl who seems to flee from it every chance she gets. 

"You're happy, then?" The lust wears off in the face of this strange new reality, my legs crossing in a relaxed sitting position after I shrug off my jacket. 

The Joy-like laughs into her hand, standing up as though my words were meant to kick her out. "I won't charge you for the chat, Brie, but I should get back to work now."

"Right... Hey, for what it's worth, I really don't know what past me's problem was. You're just my type, too. Kinda feels like she's cockblocking present Brie." My eyes trace her journey to the door and I fiddle idly with my rings, desperate to go back to our shitty little team-up led by Sage, when everything made perfect sense. 

She turns with a smile, hand on the door knob and a pitying look in her eyes. "Want me to send up one of my colleagues?"

There's a pressure in my head, like a bullet boring through the skull. "Nah... I doubt she'd be half as cute."

"Such a charmer, hehe, goodbye Brie." A wilting wave and the girl is gone. 

And the room goes dim, temperature dropping until I put my jacket back on and begin to pace. Fuck, this is all so messed up. I need to figure something out, go back to that damn base and drag Hope kicking and screaming into my arms. Fuck the wheel, we've all been spun around enough haven't we? I don't need a team, nor a plan, I just need to fucking try or I'll go crazy in this backwards world they've dropped me into. 

Restless legs bring me to the window and I slam my hands down onto the sill, continuing to ignore the view as I peer down at the framed photograph turned onto its face. Naturally I reach out to inspect the thing but then my hand pauses, a prickly hesitation I quickly realise the cause of. I'm scared of what I'll find. I probably turned it down for a negative reason, most do, and revealing it now sort of feels like I'd be opening pandora's box. Before I can make my mind up whether to peek behind that tempting curtain or leave it well alone until my bearings are regained, a deafening, shrieking cry sounds out from beyond the window and reverberates against it. 

It's a sound that can only come from one person in Envy's sovereign nation. 

The roll call beckons, a cawing shriek not from crow but... moth?

Roll Call: A Doll to a Flame

Doll's hand rests over the console, still as can be, as it waits for its lackadaisy navigator to complete the connection. Even a well mannered doll such as this one is not possessed of infinite patience, tapping the manual controls while humming a tune from a past life. It was a life as wonderful as it was exhausting, the only dark circles it wears now are the rims of pilot goggles, hair swept back and tied out of the way. Most of these controls are unnecessary, analogue is only a back up in case of emergency. Slick tendrils push into the back of the doll's neck and allow it to interface with the machine which whirrs to life in response to its genetic data, a perfect sync like hand slipping into form fitting glove. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Murmur! Too busy messing around with Williams, well among others ehe... we went ahead and initiated start up, fancy a chat while the old girl prepares to spread her wings?" Dryad's voice spills directly into Doll's mind, the raven haired pilot shaking her head with a slight smile, remarking privately that Hive really hasn't changed half as much as she thinks she has, though neither has the Doll itself. 

"It already told you to cut the 'Miss Murmur' crap, Helena, and don't even think about calling it Misty or it'll find enough belts to lock you all up for a week or longer~" The doll rubs its eyes before sinking into the flow of data Helena connects it to via hanging cable-like vines. "How's Brood? Still living up to her name?"

"Hmph... well aren't you just a bundle of contradictions. We can never tell how serious you are with all that doll stuff or if you're just messing with us, you're clearly not inhuman. Brie's adorable as ever, in her own rough sort of way, why'd you ask?" 

The doll sighs, wishing its moth could launch much faster. "Feels like we're having two separate conversations at once here, something it's sure you're used to and more, but think about the poor singular beings wouldya? Don't suggest it isn't serious just because of your own limited perceptions, Helena. It chooses to be a doll, why wouldn't it? Dolls are superior, idealised human beings, humanity puts so much care and love into crafting the perfect doll and half that much effort into cultivating offspring. A doll is not imposed upon, nor pressured, nor expected to face its own mortality. Why would you not wish to be a doll? It sits inside the chamber of the bombyx mori and accepts a fine rebirth, domesticated being crafted from recycled flesh and bone. It is not inhuman because it is lesser, Helena dear, but because it has shed cocoon of a sleepless hell and metamorphosed into a less restrictive identity."

"How the hell is a doll less restrictive? You wanna be an object without will? Guess we're one to talk, heh..." 

"A doll can be anything. Will in and of itself can be a restriction, surely you understand that? And yes, you're right, it refuses to be lectured on humanity by a plant network all too gleeful to rapture its old forms for jubilation in the new flesh you've taken to. Perhaps it is a fool's paradise we seek, those who reject the forms we were assigned during our conception into this world, but take note that it never stops spinning. Change is an inevitability, to accept the flow is to become invincible." The Doll tilts its head back and closes its eyes. "It worries that Brie is going to make a very costly mistake in the proceeding weeks, one that will result in the opposite outcome to the one she had been intending. Did you not see a crow above her head, Helena? Her temptation is darkly and familiar, she's a victim of theatre, moth to a flame... and Nic will wring the whelp for every drop."

Helena groans through the connection, the machine hum signalling that they are ready for flight. "Combat aside, your visions haven't gotten any less cryptic and frankly, annoying. Speaking of our ex boss and your ex wife, we're about to go toe to toe with the bitch. She really thinks she can hit you, she keeps boasting about how this'll be the one in which she lands a scratch."

Murmur Doll smirks, no longer talking with its mouth but using the unification to communicate psychically. "She's not an ex, it's still quite happily married. This is just how love languages develop, there's nothing like trying to pound your spouse into a bloodied wreck in the ground now is there? Have you never been married, Helena?"

"Once. They were our first takeover after nearly two decades of being good and suppressing our power. Ever since we accidentally became our entire class in early schooling our parents had us on medication and regularly consulting with professionals to ensure we'd remain a 'normal and healthy girl' from then on, so it was only when we got away from those clutches that we rekindled our ability and began putting it to use. The way they had attempted to neuter our gift like we were some defective unwanted mutation feels more relevant than ever now, doesn't it? Maybe you're onto something Murmur, and we should leave humanity in the dust."

"For the record, girl, if young Helena had been sent to the office of Misty Black... it would not have made you feel like broken goods. You can understand their fear, no? It's why they're always so desperate to try and instil their own before their legs give way and they collapse into puddles of their own piss." Doll grasps the controls in its mind and the engine roars, followed by that ultrasonic cry warning all to steer clear. 

"Relearn your place or live in fear, right? Well fuck their posters, you can't fight change." The dryad network feels the doll's inputs like phantom nerves on a formless body, wings spreading out and starting to flutter. 

"Atta girl, Helena, now let's go beat the shit out of 'Commander Black', she's liable to become a masochist if it'll fuel her saviour complex further."

A heap of metal lunges forwards into the dimming day and as dusk falls upon their heads, the census cries for another. 

Roll Call: Cowl Rues the Black

The sound of uneven footfalls reverberates into the overgrowth and I prepare my net of shadow, watching through tired eyes as my teammate limps with haggard breath towards the island's edge. Before she can throw herself onto the rocks in her golden trance, I catch her in my dark embrace, approaching slowly to lay eyes upon the poor thing's blissful ignorance. Snapping her out of trance with little more than a few delicate shakes and a snapping of my fingers, Peony sniffs and blinks the gold out of her gaze. 

"Can you walk? Does it hurt?" Slowly, I recall my shadow and support the pink haired hero who just ran a half marathon without consciously registering it. Her initial reaction to planting both feet onto the ground is a sharp wince, but she soon pushes me away with a brave smile I know all too well. I've spent my entire life not wanting to be a burden to those who'd seek to lighten my load, it's a silent kinship I feel towards the most unlikely of recipients... though I suppose somebody so willing to devote her life to another should be assumedly somewhat selfless. What was Misty thinking? People aren't dolls to be discarded... 

"My hero." Peony laughs it off, holding her leg before I use my moldable mass of shadow to form a brace for her. Joy Williams must have done this, given that Nova shouldn't be anywhere close to here and would have no benefit from pulling such a stunt. Orchard, you didn't even consider this woman's leg was injured before you sent her off as your decoy... I'm disappointed, that's not the hero I remember having my back on the streets. 

"Don't push yourself, okay? You'll get patched up properly later, I'm going to need that back eventually." I force a thin smile, tapping finger against my earpiece after clearing my dry throat. "Sage, I've found and recovered Peony, she's alright. Need any help?" 

A few seconds pass by before noise fills my ear, Peony still regaining her breath from the cross country sprint. "Good work, I came across our troublemakers gawking at the Narcissus at the edge of the river, put them to sleep for a while and waiting on the backup heli to touch down any moment now. To be honest I really don't need, or want, to bring Mr. Cruise along for the ride. He's laid out in an opening near my location, I'll send the coordinates... mind picking him up? Sorry to drop the shit clean up work in your lap, but you've been a great help so far."

"No need to apologise, ma'am, I'll get it done." 

"I know you're such a polite kid, but please don't start calling me ma'am or I think I'll begin to age rapidly. I don't have a kink for it like Nic, so relax on the formalities eh?" The woman titters and I decide not to tell her that she's not my elder at all even if that laugh may suggest otherwise. 

"Yes m-- Sage, got it." I cut off comms before the conversation becomes any more stunted, rubbing my brow and wondering why social interaction always has to feel so inexplicably tiring. A grim obsequience towards my orders compels me to ignore the gnawing sense that we're amidst a sea of smoke and mirrors, drifting out into currents contorted by that woman who would dare to embrace me as family. 

"Please don't tell me we're going back for the bleached asshole himself? Let's just report that he's KIA and head for the tower, whichever direction that's in. Actually I do need to find my mask or I'm not gonna be much use in a fight, ahaha!" Peony's as plucky as ever, probably happy to have been able to stretch her legs after so many years wasted behind bars. I feel somehow responsible for the freedom she's been deprived, even though I know that feeling to be irrational. 

"I've a feeling we won't find what we're looking for here, if I'm honest. We'll have to settle for our mouthy teammate I'm afraid. You really alright to walk?" It's not going to be a short distance to travel, but then, not nearly as long as it should be either were they telling us the truth. The question is, then, why feed us a lie?

Peony wipes the drool from her mouth and smiles sweetly like she's the short term memory of a common goldfish. How freeing it must be. "Why? Are you offering to carry me, charming?" Her laugh doesn't miss me entirely, though I've gotten very good at hiding when a woman has any manner of sway on me. You won't see red on my face, only indifference white as a ghost, but deep down I can admit she's a more endearing woman than I'd have given credit for upon our first meeting. 

"Charming? That's a first, most consider talking to me a duller affair than settling down to watch paint dry." I only afford myself the smirk when I've turned away, beginning to walk towards the coordinates sent to me from Sage while occasionally glancing over to make sure I'm not going at too quick a pace for the lady to keep up with. 

"Maybe I'm just particularly weak to your particular brand of abrupt, abstruse way with words. Reminds me of Miss Murmur's manner of speech, maybe I've just got a type?" Peony hobbles along while pretending it doesn't hurt, making me want to shoulder yet another burden before remembering just how badly that backfired last time. So badly do I miss the streets, my escape from those complicated crow affairs into a simpler life of assisting arrests. Learning to know when to let go, to not consider leaving an abandonment, is a truly liberating skill... one I'd finally mastered until finding myself wrapped back into the fold just as though I'd never stepped an inch out of their bullshit. 

"Yeah, I'll say... you're really devoted to that woman, aren't you?" I don't really want to discuss this, but a cruel sense of curiosity has taken hold. 

"Murmur? Well I didn't tattoo her name onto my body for shits and giggles, Cowl. I'm just her property, though... I'm scared she won't take me back, that she considers my usefulness spent. The absence of choice locked away in a cell is a strange comfort to me, really, because I don't have to figure out what I'd do out in the world without Murmur's side to run to. She'd probably accept me with open arms, I'm sure, but god that fear sometimes makes parole seem like a death sentence." Florasma's daughter gives a lilting giggle that makes me seethe with rage, my entire body succumbing to a smouldering resentment I don't entirely know where to direct. 

"That's horrible, you'd love a woman who's happy to make you feel that way? Or one selfish enough to not even consider your feelings at all? Fuck, I'm not sure which is worse..." I run a hand through wavy black hair and grimace, knowing that I should calm myself down before I worry the woman. 

"Wow, I've never seen you so emotional. But yes, I love her. Not in a romantic fashion, mind, but something more akin to how you'd love a mother. Well I've already got a mom I love back in the slammer, so perhaps the way you'd love a mentor? No, an owner. The point is, my admiration and respect is unconditional, it doesn't matter what she does or says, how she thinks of me... I already committed myself to her so it's only my fault if that backfires in any meaningful way. Besides, she was so lonely, she needed someone to devote themselves to uplifting her even if what she wanted was often unreasonable or immoral."

Misty needed someone, did she? "No love should be unconditional, even familial love... though what should be and what truly is are often at fierce odds with one another. I... you seem like a good person, even if you let her turn you into someone shameful. You're pure in a dangerous sense, I think, but it's difficult to hate you for." 

Peony bursts into several bouts of laughter at my earnest assessment of her, making me wish I hadn't bothered as the two of us pass tree after tree. Wiping tears from her eyes, my pink haired company begins to hum a tune and recognising the melody I decide to join her, though my hum is far huskier than hers. 

And so we walk on, humming the tune that ties together the strange and the estranged. 

By the time we make it close to the clearing the sight of billowing smoke directs us to Curtis without need for precise coordinates, finding the surprisingly resourceful former crook sitting by his very own campfire with a shit eating grin on his face when he locks eyes with me. His face is a mess of dried blood but it does not appear to have hampered his enthusiasm to be the most punchable person in the room, or in this case the clearing. I can't remember the last time I threw a punch, I'm no longer a violent person.

"About time someone showed up, though I hope you don't mistake this for a smoke signal. I'm ready to fucking live out here if it comes to it." He talks big, but I'm not exactly sure what his plan would be in the event of heavy downpour. Still, I'm impressed to see the game he's acquired and disturbed to see him so eager to sink teeth into small hares... though perhaps I've simply always had a soft spot for bunnies. 

"I didn't peg you as the savage type, Cuntis. They look half cooked already from your uh... unconventional hunting methods. You need to skin them, you know." Peony sits herself down beside the fire and holds her hands in front of it without a care in the world, while I remain standing just in case we're ambushed. 

Curtis Cruise holds out his combat knife that neither of us are surprised a man like him carries at all times, I'm sure he was the type to pack a conceal carry on a trip to the convenience store. "I'm not a savage, I'm a survivalist. There's no greater feeling than living off the fat of the land, letting the Earth provide and all that good shit."

"You're a career criminal who used to stick up stores and rob banks, sounds more like you were living off the fat of man." Peony appears to get a kick out of challenging him, so I elect not to point out she also robbed banks and stands by her actions with pride. 

"Damn right I was, man's plenty fat, the money I took only ever really hurt the rich assholes at the top who had more than they could ever know what to do with in the first fuckin' place. You little heroes running around 'protecting the people' ended up as shields for their greed more often than not. And hey, what about Curtis's proportionately harmless greed? Stupid fucks... I should be on a beach somewhere with a drink fruitier than my cousin Willow and instead I'm sat on my ass skinning hares. Makes a man wonder, y'know?" With a grumble, the dirty blonde crook glowers at his pink haired companion, a part of him no doubt secretly relieved to have somebody to rant at when he must have started to consider that nobody might come for a man like him. I'm sure he realises well enough that antagonising your team makes them more liable to leave you behind the moment your ankle is snared in a metaphorical bear trap, but just can't help himself. Ultimately, I suppose, his lack of self control just barely makes the top three ranking in the team Nicole had assembled. 

"I've called for our lift out of here, best not to linger for long even if... well, have any of you seen even a single sign of movement out here? Save for hares, I mean." For once in my life I'm feeling rather talkative, continuing to remain on my feet while the other two huddle by the fire like we're on a camping trip. Of course, while my shadow is still around Peony's leg I'm spared the biting chill of this breeze entirely, though elect not to tell the woman that I'm now uncomfortably familiar with the smoothness of the upper calf and lower thigh. It's a useful power for engaging criminals with more brawn than they have brains, their strikes meaning nothing to me and their fists never thinking to land blow upon a shadow. This body of mine is but a decoy of the true self, a shadow casting person. 

"Hrm... well I've ran almost the entire length of the city and back... not a single sign, Envy's hunters could be lurking in the shadows though right? They'd know this forest better than anyone, heck maybe they can even camouflage themselves against the trees so perfectly we've been walking right by 'em. " Her eyes darting around the opening in sudden panic, Peony brings knees up to her chest and tightens the valves on her wrists, eyes finally landing upon the discarded mask. Glee becomes her, the erratic inmate crawling over to retrieve her precious property while Curtis enjoys the show, leering at her raised posterior with a small sigh. If I didn't think it best to keep the knee brace of shadow around Peony's leg for the time being, I'd be tempted to wipe that smile off my teammate's face like I've any sense of chivalry myself. At least I feel shame for the way the woman makes me feel, that soft exertion on her leg mixing with my shadow-self. 

Finally prying his eyes away before being caught in the act of voyeurism, Curtis picks up on the same inconsistencies that I've been silently mulling over. "So why not strike? There have been so many ample opportunities, right? I mean we've even been isolated, all three of us could have been nabbed while we were all alone, no? Ah... I guess maybe they're waiting for us to call it a night and plan to round us all up at once in our sleep? Not like we know how this dumb bitch ticks and I'll remind you she came from Orchard, not exactly a criminal mastermind last I checked."

"Pfft, didn't she get you locked up twice? I'd be careful insulting the intelligence of someone who consistently gets the better of you, Cruisey, seeing you flattened out on your back with a broken nose makes it a hat trick eh?" Adjusting her mask with a sly grin and challenging stare, Peony shuffles forwards towards the fire and I try not to react too visibly to the way she drags my concentrated bundle of nerves across the ground without a care in the world. Black nails dig into my hip and I purse my lips, waiting for the pain to subside like I'm back in Nova's arms. 

"Shut the hell up, it was the big one that took me out not the scrawny psycho." My eyes narrow at the sight of Curtis' attempt to skin the hares with his combat knife, lamenting the poor cosplay of a hunter who can only cheat his way through the act with his supercharged destruction. Thinking back on the days in which I could still claim to have a family unit, I recall the hunting trips I would take with my little sister and our mother... I think that woman was the reason for my sister's chosen career path, while I was a lot more obedient than the brat and accepted her quirks too easily. I learned how to use a rifle in those woods and very quickly discovered that I never wanted to hold one again. 

Shuffling closer to Curtis so that she can lean over him and tease the poor man until he feels smaller than the paltry game in his hands, Peony lets out a bout of cruel and girlish laughter. "Oh, you mean the weaker one then? She may not look it, but Miss Murmur's last disciple packs a punch... sure she couldn't quite punch through the engine bay housing but like, you're not supposed to be able to dent metal like that, y'know?"

"Hey... wait a sec, did you say you walked the entire length of the city and back?" Curtis rubs his chin almost cartoonishly and I cross my arms from across the crackling bonfire, having wondered when the shoe would finally drop. I'm not sure how Nova expected to keep this secret for very long, though perhaps she had no need to keep that wool suspended past her vision for Miss Williams. Orchard is clearly at the centre of the woman's latest stage play, and I'm starting to suspect we're all in the dark in one way or another. 

"Well I'd say I hobbled a good stretch of it, but sure... oh." It would seem that we're all on the same page now, Peony sitting up and whipping her head around with mounting confusion I'm happy to put to rest, stepping closer and starting into the fire as though searching it for answers. 

"I believe we're on North Star Island, a significantly smaller landmass as I'm sure you're both aware. With all this overgrowth it's hard to say for sure, but as someone who hasn't had a prison sentence to dull their perceptions of the city, I can tell you it's much too large to cut through on foot as quick as we had. The question is, then, why Nova chose to feed us such an obvious lie..." That woman's thought process is a black hole of its own, no revelatory light can pierce its dark surface and I often think it for the best. If she were a better woman then my sister would still be alive, my baby sister who I abandoned when she needed me most, figuring the greatest hero in the world could do a far better job than I ever had. Finally freed from our mother's emotional cage, I had no idea that she had been delivered straight into another's. 

Curtis Cruise gives up in his performative attempt to live off the land, casting the wasted corpse in his hand aside and staring up into the grey sky overhead with a bitterness you can't hide behind a mask, frustration that can't be faked. "She's not the only one keeping shit from us though, is she? You got away with refusing to tell us why this mission's personal to you on the copter, even with Orchard of all people taking my side in grilling you. Figure while we wait for the air lift I might as well play the villain again and give you the third degree, no hard feelings eh?"

I'm genuinely surprised this man even cares about my motives, though suppose he simply sees my refusal to give him what he asked for as a loss on his part. Simple men like him make good crooks and even better soldiers, but tend to be found wanting as heroes. That is to say, my definition of a hero... not Nicole Black's. "Grill away, I'm tired from walking and our assignment appears to have been a non-starter, maybe you'll crack me. I think our teammate here has already figured it out, besides." As I sigh out the words with a shrug, our eyes slowly settle upon Peony's smug expression, her shoulders rolled back with hands resting in the grass behind her. 

"Well of course I did, you look so similar after all, same mannerisms and cadence too... I mean if there's one person I know well enough to identify a relative of, it's her. Why do you think I'm so respectful to you compared to the others?" The woman who acts half her age laughs into her hand and I cock my head, wondering if that's even true. I certainly hadn't noticed any quantifiable difference, but my mind has admittedly been a little preoccupied with... everything else. 

"Care to clue me in? I don't speak airhead, so you'll have to forg-- Hey, did you hear that?" Suddenly, the wannabe hunter feels himself the prey, staring out into the trees with paranoia miring his usual suave expression. I heard the twig snap too, of course, having been intentionally listening out for such things under the assumption that nobody else would be. 

Pulling mask over her face, Peony hops up onto her feet and hoses down the fire with some manner of extinguisher that fills the other of those two tanks on her back, Curtis and I sharing a look of surprise. I forget that Peony was a hero once, a small timer who had finally made it into the most prestigious agency in the city, so putting out fires is an invaluable skill that likely gave her a leg up. Rookie heroes often act like freelance fire fighters, after all, the licenses becoming mandatory once the members of that actual profession began to complain. 

"No word on the transport, Cowl?" I appreciate Curtis being direct for once, taking the potential threat to the three of us serious. While he's an irresponsible hothead most of the time, he can be reliable when push comes to shove... at least, something tells me that. We've been operating as a team, sans Orchard, for a while now... but when I actually attempt to look back on those memories I see a mosaic I don't much trust. I had hoped to be done with manipulation ever since mother passed, but it seems that just like my sister I've fallen into orbit of that cold and empty mass. 

Static buzz assaults my ear and my eyes narrow against the stillness of the treeline, feeling a sense of foreboding I've learned not to ignore. Then comes a voice, soft and apologetic. "Sorry ladies, but nobody's coming to pick you up. It's for the best this way, if anything I'm jealous. She's exceeding expectations, so... maybe next time, eh?" Sage chuckles quietly and I turn my head to see Curtis and Peony glancing my way, neither of them having been handed their earpieces before that suspicious rotor failure and subsequent crash. It's a miracle we all survived, though I'm not particularly compelled to relay gratitude to our pilot right now given the sudden betrayal. "Sit tight awhile longer, Sable, the halcyon days are over."

Arms fall limp by my sides and shadow falls from Peony's knee into a formless swirl against dead grass by the fire. My eyes slowly widen and narrow in a rapid, twitching motion as memories strike me like the lashings of a shimmering black whip. If my body could think to move I'd surely collapse onto my knees under the weight of it all, teeth grinding together and breath shallow. 

"Sab, you're looking dour as always. Why don't you just accept it?

"I think with everything going on around here, sister, my acceptance has begun to wear thin... I can't just give up on you."

"Oh, haha. Not that, though you really should drop it already, it seems awfully hypocritical of you to judge it for the transition. It meant Envy's gift, isn't that exactly what you want?"

"Unlike you, sister, I'm not keen on taking shortcuts."

The dryads peek out from behind trees and my companions begin to prepare for a fight I no longer much feel like entertaining, arms yet limp at my sides while that formless shadow comes crawling back to deliver unto me the emotions I'm missing. As my true self makes contact with this decoy body, stretching over the clearing in a shape resembling human, I begin to laugh. 

"H-Hey, goth for brains, this isn't the time to go crazy on us!" Peony elbows my ribs to snap me out of it but I don't feel a thing, of course, clutching my head and letting the last few empty chuckles escape these black lips before resting my back against the closest tree and watching Helena's approach. We're surrounded by an unfathomable force, Crazy Cutter's supercharged beams won't do any decent damage to their ranks and they're more than just immune to Peony's gas, did she think she had any purpose on this assignment save for helping create the illusion of hope? This entire mission is a charade, well constructed and consented to, my fight died the moment 'Sage' spoke that post-hypnotic trigger and reminded me these truths. 

We were never a team.

This isn't New Cassiepeia.

Mint does not have a sister.

Envy is not our real enemy.

Joy Williams is not a person.

Helena's drugged hands descend upon my shoulders and still I feel nothing, not on account of my shock but simply the way I am. You could take a metal bat to my face and it won't bother me in the slightest, but step on my shadow and I'll writhe in discomfort, it's no wonder I don't keep it at my back for very long. "Mmh... long time no see, Sable, you're looking glum as ever. Want us to warm you right up?" Long tongue descends past the dryad's chin, hanging there with a glistening show of seduction that is as lost on myself as that touch. The sultry, dripping muscle curls around my chin as Helena brings herself closer, two more dryad forms closing in from either side as I condense my shadow by the bark at my back, concealing it in my hand for when their eyes eventually roam. She's just teasing me right now, both of us knowing how I work. 

High pitched blasts sound out from the chaos in front of me, the sight eclipsed by more and more tree nymphs who fill the clearing with an orgy of assured oblivion. I'm the only one of us three humans who know that fighting this is folly, yet I still keep my shadow gripped tight behind my back. Perhaps Misty is right about me being stubborn to a fault, but if I wasn't she'd not have been spared our mother's ire. I'd insist on twice the punishment and not back down until mother acquiesced and left my baby sister be. I can't back down from a fight, even if I already consented to the outcome in another life. 

"Ah... th-that's my own, that's my mother's..." Peony's lip trembles as sap smears her cheeks, long tongue promptly smothering her into silence as two more drag up her neck and plug her ears. Vine slithers around her neck and lightly chokes the poor human who buckles to her own concoction for the second time in one day. As dryad succubi feast upon the former convict's lust, Curtis fights tooth and nail with her lasers blasting right through the inhuman forms Helena has been gifted by her empress, the nymphs sewing themselves back together with vine and letting out a chorus of laughter. 

"You creepy fucks, get away from me!" The blonde is surrounded so effortlessly by the plant hivemind, their vines whipping around ankles while those extended tongues they wield move to cover my comrade in sticky, pleasurable sap. The oncoming haze is enough to make a man forget their fight entirely, though Curtis Cruise is swiftly reminded what she is through rending hands that mold her very being. Each of them a piece of Envy proper, even if her unification gifts these forms to Helena alone, they get to work remaking Curtis like it's muscle memory for them. Softer and yet, no less sharp, the blonde collapses onto her back as more suckling vines seek to remake her again and again until they get it perfect. It's... this is fine, especially with Peony nearby... the two really should have been wearing their comms. 

"I hope you don't seek to give me the same treatment as that, Helena. What's with the sex party... is this that twisted woman's idea of gratitude? You know this isn't really my thing, so--"

"Don't be silly, Sab, you forget we shared a mind once... albeit briefly! We know your wants quite intimately, perhaps even better than you do. We've known each other longer than that though, Hivemind was a repressed failure of a hero... we're sorry for how we treated you, once you left the agency to go solo we--"

"This is all in the past, isn't it? You're... Helena, are you with my sister right now?" My grip feels uncertain, vines stroking across the backs of my knuckles teasingly as Helena sniffs out the hidden shadow like a creature no longer remotely human. 

The hivemind tilts its heads, smirking crassly with a sea of maroon lips, some of the dryads slowly unhinging their jaws with performative predation she really needn't put effort into with me. "You mean the doll? Envy's ace? She's so nearby, Sable, right at the city's northern edge on standby with the Moth, waiting to interface so that we can reload for the next salvo test with Narcissus. They say that the posthypnotic trigger isn't enough of a certainty for you lot, so..."

"Giving us what we want, right? I want my autonomy, I'm not like you." The sounds of smacking lips fill the stuffy space with a serenade of sapphic temptation bubbling over, several of Helena's forms dealing with the excess lust by using each other... it's indecent, obscene, and I find my shadow heating up at the thought she'd get worked up over a crow like me. Once upon a time, a very long while ago now, I harboured feelings for the woman who became this creature, so I forgive myself for the aching - and the pounding - in my sable heart. 

"But you do like us? Heh... we love this new form, of course we do, but if you'd like we can get away from all of this noise for a while. In our orchard, just you and... me. We can isolate at will, just a single Helena and a touch that won't corrupt you so. What do you say? We were a big fan of yours once, back before your hero name became your real one and you became so soft. In more ways than one, I suppose..." Helena speaks sweetly, an ingratiating tone of voice that cannot stir this decoy. Try as she might, I won't let her hold power over my heart again, everything Nicole gets her hands on becomes spoiled goods and Envy's just as bad in her own way. They're all made for each other, even I got roped into it somehow, realising that perhaps Helena is right about not trusting the trigger to make us see eye to eye with past selves. If hating your past self was a sport I could have gone pro, so this isn't a difficult choice to make. 

"You can touch me all you like, Hivemind, but I'm afraid the feeling won't reach." Fingers flare behind my back and dark wings spread in a flapping of impenetrable void. I set free my true self to flee the scene, a messenger crow ready to seek out any who migh-- "Ack! Y-You..." A vine lunged out like a spear, impaling shadow in its short lived ascent and causing me to thrash against dryad embrace, Helena plucking me out of the air with long tendril coiling to cradle the whimpering, murmuring crow. It hurts, it hurts, cries the corvidae. Who'd have thought I'd be recalling Misty's favourite bedtime story now of all times, I was always the one to put her to sleep given the neglect from our only parent. Neglect was far better than the alternative, of course, and so I gladly took to the role of surrogate parent. How I failed her in the end, my writhing shadow lowering down into Helena's rocking arms. Maybe she could no longer sleep because she didn't have her real mother there to help her drift off, because I was too late to forgive. 

Now it's my turn to be put to sleep... heh... go figure. What a fine fucking fertiliser I'll make.

Roll Call: Envy Tests the Crispness

A damn desk job. After everything I've experienced from the conception of my name up until this very mundane moment, I lament with a laugh drier than a fucking desert the ill suited scene I pose for. Empress of a new world order and I occupy a lonely top floor office, sat tucked behind this mahogany shitheap of a desk with nails tapping errantly away at the damnable wood. A desk job. I thought I told those proxies I created that I wished to be divorced from the bureaucracy of it all. While I understand that it's a temporary need that only I can fulfil at this juncture, it won't stop me from acting rather sour about the entire affair. The world as we know it is coming to an end and we're betting on a horse darker than even I'm currently comfortable with. Former hero, future saviour, what a perfect track record she does make. It kills me to be at her mercy, no dungeon I could have made for that megalomaniac will be deep enough but once this is over I, or another me I suppose, will do her best all the same. As the second most megalomaniacal, or perhaps presently the third, I can only stomach so much kinship with the one who'd have us dirty our souls in such a manner that spits in the face of everything I've worked toward. Perfect unification, a mother's embrace, a community that can be proud of herself. How I hate that wretched woman, almost as much as I've been made to spite myself in recent days as a by-product of this fragile acceptance. 

"I can feel your desire to relay news, ahaha... it's like a prickle of warmth against the back of my neck. When I've more free time I need to spare some of it play with my doll, your body hasn't aged a day, so pristine under my care... I could keep myself youthful as that proxy of mine, naturally, but I'm rather taken with this older form. It brings me closer to you, it gives Nicole one less angle to try and push me beneath her with, and it reminds me the responsibilities of motherhood. How are you, dear?"

I wait a few seconds, humming an old tune to pass the time, the one tv advert we did as Orchard before the ship fell to pieces. Eventually, that husky voice I've been hooked on since the day I heard it graces me through the wonder of unification. I can scan their thoughts, but I've enough of my own lately, and I do so enjoy this voice of hers. "It gets to fight Nic again soon, no? So this doll is doing rather splendidly, empress. You're right of course, it was waiting to see if your stress levels might drop before getting in touch but it should know better than to try and keep things from you! While running a routine performance test of Disco Mantis in the water to ensure the seals were airtight after repairs were made, Mint and her spare came across Nicole's latest reject. She's keen to talk to you and waiting in the reception downstairs, it knows you're not one to refuse one of your own even in these circumstances, but thought it would check all the same."

"And why am I not hearing this from Mint? Don't they know my ace doll has better things to be doing than playing their messenger? Ah listen to me, haha, I'm far too withdrawn if I'm questioning the thoughts of those I share a psychic bond with. It won't be long now, right... makes me wonder why I'm sitting behind a fucking desk at all." My gaze lifts to inspect the recovered gold sitting on my desk, a wedding band and a pretty dove so cruelly discarded. These were once used for a unification of their own, one I gave my blessing to even if it wasn't asked for. "It's fine, they're busy too, everyone's so busy you wouldn't even know what's about to happen. Send her up, of course, and fill me in on my McIntosh's current whereabouts. She went so far as to get the procedure, just to try and play hero, bite the hand that feeds. I... It kills me to just let her go, to make her think she's getting one over on us while we sit back and watch what's about to happen. Stupid thing doesn't even know why she's so driven, if she did she'd know how pointless her efforts truly are..."

Another short pause, it's not like my Murmur doll to be quiet. "She'll be engaging with Black Gala within the hour, it'll be a mercy if Nic just kills her. As agreed, this doll will wait four hours before venturing out to salvage what's left" 

Turning in my chair, I stand and walk over to the window, peering out over the city that marks my dominion and forcing arms by my side to stop from irritating my face. "You're wrong, doll... it'll be the Rook she's engaging with." What does it say that I can understand the inner workings of Nicole Black's mind better than her own spouse, I wonder, a bitter curl touching upon these rich burgundy lips of mine and an impatient rapping against the glass door. "I'll talk to you again later, see it done."

"Yes Empress." And the voice leaves my head as swiftly as it entered, my isolation briefer than a blink as I turn to greet my unexpected guest with a complicated smile. 

"Yes, yes, come inside child." One of the many roots spilling out over the office floor pulls the door open and ushers Shepherd inside, my eyes narrowing as I return to my chair and watch her hasty approach. Quickly stepping over vines and circling around my desk, the white haired younger image of myself throws herself into my arms and causes us to swivel some in this chair from the momentum. Pursing my lips, I run fingers through her hair as a more youthful face buries itself into the safety of my chest, no cries yet escaping her. A true military woman I suppose, well disciplined for as much good it does her. "Oh, you poor thing... I can hear your thoughts buzzing around the room rather violently, feel this pain. Let me share it with you, it's all I'm able to do to help you soothe the wound. I had warned you, soft peach, that daughters of The Garden belong by my side."

Shepherd finally allows herself to sniffle, placating herself against my scent and giving in to the unsanctioned emotion once she realises she needn't worry. "You... you don't hate me, then?"

A scoff likely isn't the comforting reaction she had been hoping for, but it just seems so absurd for me to harbour this piece of myself any ill will. Does Nova teach loyalty through shame? We may both be bound for hell, but that crooked woman is sure to reach a circle further down... perhaps there will even have to be renovation efforts in the underworld in anticipation of her arrival. A tenth circle, inverted penthouse suite. "I've not the right to exercise any wrath upon you, pretty girl, especially not when I can see you're already hurting enough. I'm not mad, I'm elated to have you in my arms after what feels like an age. Did you truly expect that woman to keep you around forever, Shepherd? I'll forgive as much as you need, but I won't coddle your stupidity for playing with an open flame and not expecting to be burnt by it."

The woman sinks deeper into the comfort of my body, a maternal refuge I'm happy to supply, my vines gently raising to cradle her trembling back. "A-Are you sure that I'm not rotten goods? How... How could she just throw me away like that, after all we... after I..." Shepherd gently sobs into my chest and I plant these poisonous lips of mine atop her head, hers a pretty scene of white that mine only shows a streak of. I understand that it was Nova who did the bleaching, curiously enough. "All because I got carried away once... once! I just wanted to meet her, the traitor, and she wasn't worth the trouble! Just as terrible as I'd imagined, and now the curiosity cost me the opportunity to see this world out with the woman I... I..."

"Hush now, sweetpea, your misery on this matter only serves to feed the machine. It's natural to mourn a loss, but it pains me to see you suffering over this. One mustn't cry when they place their finger into the maw of a snake and find themselves bitten. I don't mean to scold you, of course, but you invited disaster unto yourself and presently reap the consequences. I'm sorry if you're already well aware, but I have to be sure you understand this." It sickens me how endeared I am to these creations, they were never meant to be as children and yet a mother I've become. I can't help but spoil them, indulge them, want to pull their hands away from the traps they foolishly reach for. The weight of these lives falls heavy upon my shoulders ever since the wake up call that came with the North Star Island experiment... the epiphany of emotion reached in those formative days was enough to cement a loyalty to all those who look up to me, bred from an unceremonious coupling of guilt and regret, along with a deep seated resentment towards the woman I once respected above all others. I've seen the hurt wrought by false idols and feel fated to follow in their footsteps against my own will, but it doesn't mean I can't offer a lighter sense of disappointment when that bell finally tolls. 

"Of course I do... I'm a rotten apple, down to the core... Nova's ruined me and... and she discarded me the moment I slightly inconvenienced her... I kept telling myself I knew how things were, but deep down I allowed myself to believe it was different with me. I bought into her lies because it felt fucking good to live in the fantasy of it all... I'm so rotten, she's got a more obedient toy now and I'm ruined..." If I did not care for this woman I'd see her for the pathetic wretch she is, but even those can be sympathised with when you assess their victimhood. Personally, I see nothing more than my own perilous reflection, an undressing of the ego I've kept well arrested. Her frustration is but a fraction of my own, and so I decide to absolve her with teeth. Lowering my head until my breath collapses hot against Shepherd's shaking shoulder, I pry the fabric of her uniform away from the bare skin and slowly sink my teeth into the surface. "A-Ah... that kinda hurts, haha."

Pulling away and licking the thoroughly bitten skin with a low hum, I lean back into the chair and grin at my good girl. "Not rotten at all, still as crisp and fresh as the day I brought you into this world. You're a good apple, Shepherd, I know you'll get over this quickly. Time to heal isn't a luxury you can afford right now, unfortunately, I can attempt to expedite the process some. Is that something you'd like?" Protective hands undoubtedly contrast her recent memories of ones more possessive as I brush her hair between my fingers, Shepherd weakly nodding into the touch with red and puffy eyes daring to meet my my calm gaze. I've only the one eye to return the brave look, though I could rebuild the other any time I please. Self discipline is important, I've fallen into the snare of endless temptation in my early days, it's the only reason I suppose I even exist... but the end result can only lead to Nova. A black hole of want, never satisfied. I'd hail her a tortured hero ready to bear the weight of pyrrhic victory if I had any faith in her humanity, but I don't doubt her motives for this new theatre of hers are not so altruistic in truth. We will use her as much as she uses us, a parasitic pair we make. Perhaps the patch should be altered to reflect this, changed to twin snakes both vying for the same shining apple, eight elongated fangs piercing its golden flesh and tearing it apart until the blood runs dry.

But I digress, my Shepherd needs her healing and what better place to conduct such a sacred act than in my orchard? Vines gently slither in helix around her ankles and in a blink of those exhausted, raw eyes, we're no longer in my office at all.

Epilogue: Golden Era - Hero and Villain Special Feature!

Capes have now been a part of our society for over four decades and I think we can all agree we're much more super for it! Now folks, I know that name, capes, hasn't been used since the end of the Golden Era but that's exactly what we're delving into in this new ten part special feature. Otherwise known as the Golden Age, this period somewhat ironically marks the time before world renowned heroine Lady Nova breathed fresh new life and industry into the world of supers. In this short series (there's only so much room in these back covers, have mercy!) we will cover one of the Golden Era's most famous heroes and one of its most infamous villains, respectively. We'll start out small and work up to the ones we know that even today's youth will have heard about through osmosis. So without further adieu, let's begin with today's hero feature.

The dark and brooding master of night - Sable Hand

(Pictured: A tall figure shrouded in black black wrap from head to toe, almost like a mummy, one black claw with talons covered in shadow and a silver gauntlet on the other side fashioned into the same shape. Piercing amber eyes peek through the gap in the black wrap around their face, wavy raven hair tied back. 

Very little is known about this hero's personal history as he is one of many to have never been unmasked, but Sable Hand still has a relatively popular following to this day on account of the all-black aesthetic that speaks to alternative fashion movements. The quietest member of world famous team up, The Silver Hands, most people wouldn't guess that our dark hero here is in fact one of two founding members. Known for his invulnerability to most forms of attack due to lack of feeling, the immutable Sable Hand would often endure assaults head on and then cut through eventual opening to silence his targets for good. Sable Hand's career is most notable for two events, one perhaps more macabre than the other.

Let's get the darker subject out of the way first, shall we? Sable Hand is the only hero during the Golden Era to have received permission to kill, authority bestowed upon them by the county sheriff of West Cassie at the time through the now defunct deputy hero act. Having been given the kill order during the pursuit of serial killer M.T. Barnes, referred to in the news cycle at the time as "The Piper" on account of his methods of abduction, Sable Hand found himself unable to operate the rifle thrown to him by fellow hero Marxman who was too impaired to take the shot himself. While he can surely not face any blame for being unfamiliar with such weaponry and fumbling his moment, it is unfortunate and tragic that the blunder had to result in the loss of five hostages' lives. 

While the above incident resulted in a premature retirement for our hero and not so much as a postcard to tell us how he's been holding up in the years since, the highlight of Sable Hand's career was surely his pivotal role in the arrest of notorious Golden Age villainess, Queen Florasma. Due to Sable's inability to feel, he was also apparently unafflicted by the seductress' sweet concoction and so succeeded in standing his ground around her where more famous heroes could not. This first arrest is truly what cemented Sable Hand's legacy and directly led to the formation of The Silver Hands, which would surely have been a very profitable agency if launched in the modern era of capes. 

This brings us nicely to our villain feature of the week, or should I say, our villainess feature!

The chemical seductress wielding pheromone and wiles - Queen Florasma

(Pictured: A woman in her mid to late thirties with flowing pink hair, wearing a spandex leotard with no arms and clear tights stretching across her legs. The costume is a dazzling emerald colour, long white boots stretching up to her knees with high heels.)

Ah, such a beautiful woman and yet one so tainted by a desire to use her powers for naught but her own personal gain, her unquenching thirst for domination over heroes and law enforcement alike. It should be stated here that unlike the large majority of heroes and villains who etch their names into the annals of cape history, Florasma was not in fact possessed of any supernatural strength, psychic abilities or otherwise unnatural mutation. Beginning her descent into the dark as a humble lab assistant, Penelope Winters first created her infamous concoction by mistake while working on reverse engineering several different mating and command pheromones seen throughout the animal kingdom. In no time at all temptation took a hold, that darkly crow, and Miss Winters had the entire lab under her thumb developing the mixture into the form it would eventually be recognised as, 'Florasma's Concoction'. As the power went to her head, the woman eventually fashioned herself into a self-proclaimed queen and settled upon a flower motif despite the origins of her mixture on account of it's sweet, floral scent. 

Of course, we know how this story ends. Or do we? After her initial arrest at the hands of our dark and brooding featured hero, Queen Florasma did in fact break out of prison on one occasion (this was before the new penitentiaries for criminal supers were introduced) after one of her loyal subjects helped smuggle in her concoction and she swiftly converted the guards and warden into new followers. The resulting disaster only lasted less than 24 hours and while hidden from the public for almost a decade until new facts came to light, her motives may surprise you. Prior to her first arrest Penelope Winters had been impregnated, father still unknown to this very day, with her daughter Peony Winters. The pregnant inmate had been rejected a slot in the sought after 'Mother and Baby Units' several times meaning that she would not be able raise and care for her child when the time came to deliver it into this world. Eventually arrangements were made for the newborn to live with relatives despite their estrangement to the villainess, but Miss Winters evidently could not settle for this compromise. Her escape may have been successful but the freedom came to an abrupt end when Penelope Winter's water broke unexpectedly early, street cop Cammie Cruise bringing the woman to a hospital so that her baby could be delivered without complication. Despite the myriad crimes the woman racked up during her career as a supervillain, I can only imagine the emotional whiplash she must have faced to cradle her newborn with one arm handcuffed to a hospital bed, knowing well that the moment she gave her daughter up she would likely never hold her again.

They say that fate can work in mysterious ways, and while I doubt it's the ideal reunion either of them had in mind... mother and daughter found themselves reunited over 20 years later when Peony Winters, formerly a hero of the Nova Hero Agency, found herself incarcerated for a long string of bank robberies taking place over the span of a single month. The pair remain, to this day, together in North Star Penitentiary.

Well, all good things come to an end and readers we're gonna have to love you and leave you until next week! 

To be continued in episode 3.9 - Brie Learns to Love the Wheel