Printer-friendly version
“That would work better if you took the cuff off.”
PsyKick jumped, startled, and raised his head, his hand instantly reaching to clutch the metal band around his wrist. He could never take it off; he couldn’t be trusted with power.
Kara was gazing down at him, an eyebrow arched. Her gaze dropped to the phone in his hand, and then back to him.
“I mean, you’re free to keep trying to dial it by staring really hard, but I doubt it will work.”
He just averted his gaze, chagrined that she’d caught him.
Mistress Diane left for work every single day, leaving him alone with Kara, whose identity continued to elude PsyKick, just as social competence continued to elude her. Sometimes it felt like they were almost friends, but then she’d go inexplicably cold on him.
He thought he might actually grow to like the aloof heroine, if he didn’t get the strong vibe that she didn’t like him. PsyKick had the distinct feeling of being tolerated for his Mistress’ sake.
PsyKick wasn’t even trying not to call her Mistress anymore. It made Kara’s eye twitch, and some immature part of him reveled in pissing her off just so she’d show him a face other than pity. The knowledge that he was being a burden chafed at him, doing nothing to help his frayed temper.
“I wasn’t trying to dial anyone,” he murmured under his breath.
He’d dialed the number 20 minutes ago and still couldn’t bring himself to press the final button.
What was there to say?
Hi, Tex, how have you been, by the way, I’m only moderately crazy now, let’s hang out. Sorry for the things I said. Meet you at the E?
The last time he’d seen Tex, his friend had been sitting at his bedside, trying to talk to him as if he was still Stephen. And PsyKick had begged the hero to help him escape this prison, trying to explain how his Purpose was getting worse, how he needed to Serve before it eroded everything. And when Tex had refused, as he always did, PsyKick had snapped.
To be psychic was to know one’s friends intimately well.
And to know which words inflicted the most damage.
He wasn’t sure how long ago exactly that had been. Time blurred together in that hospital room, endless days of staring at nothing while his Purpose gnawed away the tattered shreds of his sanity.
PsyKick thought it had to be months. Maybe a year, even. It felt like a really long time.
Tex had lasted the longest. The others had stopped visiting long before that.
“I see,” Kara said. Then she leaned forward and picked up the phone. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I do this?”
She hit the dial button.
His eyes went wide and he lunged, but she evaded skillfully, holding up the phone while the dial tone rang out. “Stop,” he snarled and she gave him a long look. Then she threw the phone back to him.
“Just follow your heart. Call your boyfriend. I can’t take this pining anymore.”
“Fuck off, Kara.” The skin on the back of his neck was burning and he was about to slam the red button to hang up when an automated female voice faintly rang out.
“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”
He blinked down at the small device, numb.
What?
He stared for a long moment, and then redialed, the woman standing beside him forgotten.
“The number you are trying to reach…”
With shaking fingers he dialed Constance’s number.
“The number…”
PsyKick threw the phone against the wall. It shattered on impact.
Silence reigned for an agonizingly long time.
“I’m sure I could get you Tex’ contact info from the hero network,” Kara said hesitantly. Her voice was gentle and soft in a way he had never heard it before.
“…no.”
Long pause.
“Three years.”
She said nothing, and he ran his fingers through his black hair.
“People move on. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”
That number had still been listed as his emergency contact. PsyKick had seen it when he’d signed the release form.
Tex hadn’t bothered keeping it up to date.
PsyKick could have died in that hospital, or escaped, or been cured and released, and Tex didn’t even care to be informed of that.
Kara was still gazing at him, seemingly struggling with what to say.
So he broke the tense silence.
“…I’m sorry I broke your phone.”
“Yes, however shall I afford a new one?” Her customary dryness was back, and yet, her voice retained its newfound warmth. There was a long pause once more. “…I’m terrible at this,” she admitted. “Do you drink scotch?”
His brows furrowed. “No.”
“You do now.”
And then Kara disappeared in a swirl of shadows. A swirl PsyKick recognized. His eyes widened with realization.
She – he? A stunned part of his mind asked – returned moments later, holding a decanter and two glasses, calmly setting them on the table while PsyKick stared.
Shade silently poured them two glasses.
Then she held one out to him.
He took it, and kept staring.
She sighed. “Magical accident.”
“Right.”
Silence.
“I really feel like this whole guessing game was rigged.”
She smirked, pale blue eyes meeting his as she took a sip. “You were the one who wanted to guess.”
And PsyKick laughed. A chuckle at first, escalating into deep, reverberating laughter.
So this was his life.
He was clinically insane, had villainous urges, was voluntarily depowered, wanted nothing more than to be someone’s slave, had destroyed every friendship he ever had and was now drinking scotch with an obscenely wealthy Shade. Who was a woman.
Shade, of all people.
PsyKick had never liked Shade.
In fact, he was almost singlehandedly responsible for nobody in his team liking him either. When Dawn had first dragged her new boyfriend to their supergroup meeting, PsyKick had felt nauseous at the sight. To his eyes, Shade had been a highly strung mess of seething hatred, rage and confusion. Just being in his vicinity had given PsyKick a tension headache.
Shade’s love for Dawn had been genuine enough. A red glowing band wrapped tightly around PsyKick’s friend, all but screaming mine at anyone who cared to look. It was the only positive connection to another human being that PsyKick had seen from him. Shade had looked at Dawn like he worshipped the ground she hovered over. Dawn had looked at Shade like he was a very nice man she’d just met and kind of liked.
Love like that could so very easily turn destructive.
PsyKick had made his disapproval known, and his evaluation of Shade’s mental state had trickled through to the rest of the Tenacious Teens, who all, to varying degrees, encouraged Dawn to break it off.
Nobody wanted their friend to date a ticking time bomb.
What finally broke them up, in a last straw sort of way, had given him and Tex endless hours of amusement. Dawn had confided it to Tex, who’d told it to Psy, which turned out to be a mistake since Dawn ended up blowing a fuse and chewing both of them out, making sure nobody else ever found out.
The brooding vigilante had a fetish for wearing woman’s underwear.
And now he was a woman.
Accident, yeah right.
PsyKick brought the scotch to his lips – only to end up coughing it all up as it burned his throat.
Shade, the bastard, looked amused.
“I wasn’t even the legal drinking age when I was locked up,” he said defensively, and her expression softened. A little. Her eyes were definitely still laughing at him.
“Then we have a lot of catching up to do.”
***
“…with a laser?”
Shade nodded, lips curled into a wide grin.
“Let’s just say Fusion Flare walked a little bowlegged after that.”
***
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.”
“You are making this up.”
“I swear.”
“There is no way you and Captain Patriot are friends.”
Shade chuckled softly. “It was an accident.”
“You’ve been having a lot of accidents.”
She precariously balanced her scotch glass on one finger. “I’m clumsy.”
“Admit it; you’re some sort of Good Twin cloned from an Alternate Dimension, aren’t you?”
***
“I’m sorry I dialed the number.”
PsyKick squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s okay.”
“No, I was an ass.” She exhaled and stared at the ceiling. “My least favorite day of the month is coming up tomorrow; it puts me in a bad mood.”
“I do not need to hear about your PMS, man.”
She blushed. Shade was blushing. “Not that! Corporate meeting!”
“Oh.”
***
“Okay, man, I have been wondering this for over five years, and I just have to ask…”
PsyKick peered at Shade over his glass, her outline slightly blurred.
“What are you?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Ethnicity-wise.”
Ah. He got that question a lot.
PsyKick had olive skin and black curly hair, currently barely curled at all since it was too short. His jaw was square and his nose aquiline, yet his brown eyes were subtly slanted. Overall, he was a tan blend that could pass for a lot of ethnicities if one squinted, and had confused many a bigot who wasn’t sure what stereotype to apply. Tex affectionately called him Hispasian, though it was likely he had some Native American ancestry as well, given his almost complete lack of body hair. Overall, women found him handsome, so he was fairly happy with his looks.
Granted, somewhat less so these days. After three years of extremely limited physical exercise he was leaning toward skinny twig, though he had started regaining some of his old muscle mass.
“Dunno,” he answered truthfully. “I was raised in foster care.”
And that was also why he bore the generic name of Smith. He vaguely remembered having some unresolved issues regarding his heritage. It was a common occurrence for children anonymously given up for adoption, but not even knowing his origins had given him a very special case of adolescent angst.
PsyKick would give anything to trade his current identity crisis back to that one.
Shade hummed thoughtfully.
“I’m an orphan, too.”
“…with a mansion.” PsyKick had left foster care with not a cent to his name. He’d spent his spring break working two jobs just to be able to afford basic necessities over the semester.
“With a mansion.”
“You’re bad at bonding, you know that?”
She laughed softly and refilled.
“I get better with more alcohol. It’s how I make all my friends. All being one. Sample size needs some work.”
PsyKick smiled sympathetically, and raised his glass to toast to her.
***
Shade was right. She really was a lot more pleasant to be around once she relaxed.
“Kara?” PsyKick slurred.
“Mhmmm?”
“Make it two.”
Author's Note: You guys are THE BEST! Thank you for the kind words of encouragement, I had a huge smile on my face yesterday all day long. I know there's a bit of a tonal switch from oHaV to tTtB, and along with the protagonist change I was a little worried I'd alienated some readers. I'm superglad to hear that appears to not be the case, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the chapters to come! And yes, I promise the actual plot starts Soon (TM).
Of Heroes And Villains:
The Ties That Bind An assassin. A fallen hero. An unlikely meeting. The road to redemption is long and hard and filled with explosives. |
“That would work better if you took the cuff off.”
PsyKick jumped, startled, and raised his head, his hand instantly reaching to clutch the metal band around his wrist. He could never take it off; he couldn’t be trusted with power.
Kara was gazing down at him, an eyebrow arched. Her gaze dropped to the phone in his hand, and then back to him.
“I mean, you’re free to keep trying to dial it by staring really hard, but I doubt it will work.”
He just averted his gaze, chagrined that she’d caught him.
Mistress Diane left for work every single day, leaving him alone with Kara, whose identity continued to elude PsyKick, just as social competence continued to elude her. Sometimes it felt like they were almost friends, but then she’d go inexplicably cold on him.
He thought he might actually grow to like the aloof heroine, if he didn’t get the strong vibe that she didn’t like him. PsyKick had the distinct feeling of being tolerated for his Mistress’ sake.
PsyKick wasn’t even trying not to call her Mistress anymore. It made Kara’s eye twitch, and some immature part of him reveled in pissing her off just so she’d show him a face other than pity. The knowledge that he was being a burden chafed at him, doing nothing to help his frayed temper.
“I wasn’t trying to dial anyone,” he murmured under his breath.
He’d dialed the number 20 minutes ago and still couldn’t bring himself to press the final button.
What was there to say?
Hi, Tex, how have you been, by the way, I’m only moderately crazy now, let’s hang out. Sorry for the things I said. Meet you at the E?
The last time he’d seen Tex, his friend had been sitting at his bedside, trying to talk to him as if he was still Stephen. And PsyKick had begged the hero to help him escape this prison, trying to explain how his Purpose was getting worse, how he needed to Serve before it eroded everything. And when Tex had refused, as he always did, PsyKick had snapped.
To be psychic was to know one’s friends intimately well.
And to know which words inflicted the most damage.
He wasn’t sure how long ago exactly that had been. Time blurred together in that hospital room, endless days of staring at nothing while his Purpose gnawed away the tattered shreds of his sanity.
PsyKick thought it had to be months. Maybe a year, even. It felt like a really long time.
Tex had lasted the longest. The others had stopped visiting long before that.
“I see,” Kara said. Then she leaned forward and picked up the phone. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I do this?”
She hit the dial button.
His eyes went wide and he lunged, but she evaded skillfully, holding up the phone while the dial tone rang out. “Stop,” he snarled and she gave him a long look. Then she threw the phone back to him.
“Just follow your heart. Call your boyfriend. I can’t take this pining anymore.”
“Fuck off, Kara.” The skin on the back of his neck was burning and he was about to slam the red button to hang up when an automated female voice faintly rang out.
“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.”
He blinked down at the small device, numb.
What?
He stared for a long moment, and then redialed, the woman standing beside him forgotten.
“The number you are trying to reach…”
With shaking fingers he dialed Constance’s number.
“The number…”
PsyKick threw the phone against the wall. It shattered on impact.
Silence reigned for an agonizingly long time.
“I’m sure I could get you Tex’ contact info from the hero network,” Kara said hesitantly. Her voice was gentle and soft in a way he had never heard it before.
“…no.”
Long pause.
“Three years.”
She said nothing, and he ran his fingers through his black hair.
“People move on. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”
That number had still been listed as his emergency contact. PsyKick had seen it when he’d signed the release form.
Tex hadn’t bothered keeping it up to date.
PsyKick could have died in that hospital, or escaped, or been cured and released, and Tex didn’t even care to be informed of that.
Kara was still gazing at him, seemingly struggling with what to say.
So he broke the tense silence.
“…I’m sorry I broke your phone.”
“Yes, however shall I afford a new one?” Her customary dryness was back, and yet, her voice retained its newfound warmth. There was a long pause once more. “…I’m terrible at this,” she admitted. “Do you drink scotch?”
His brows furrowed. “No.”
“You do now.”
And then Kara disappeared in a swirl of shadows. A swirl PsyKick recognized. His eyes widened with realization.
She – he? A stunned part of his mind asked – returned moments later, holding a decanter and two glasses, calmly setting them on the table while PsyKick stared.
Shade silently poured them two glasses.
Then she held one out to him.
He took it, and kept staring.
She sighed. “Magical accident.”
“Right.”
Silence.
“I really feel like this whole guessing game was rigged.”
She smirked, pale blue eyes meeting his as she took a sip. “You were the one who wanted to guess.”
And PsyKick laughed. A chuckle at first, escalating into deep, reverberating laughter.
So this was his life.
He was clinically insane, had villainous urges, was voluntarily depowered, wanted nothing more than to be someone’s slave, had destroyed every friendship he ever had and was now drinking scotch with an obscenely wealthy Shade. Who was a woman.
Shade, of all people.
PsyKick had never liked Shade.
In fact, he was almost singlehandedly responsible for nobody in his team liking him either. When Dawn had first dragged her new boyfriend to their supergroup meeting, PsyKick had felt nauseous at the sight. To his eyes, Shade had been a highly strung mess of seething hatred, rage and confusion. Just being in his vicinity had given PsyKick a tension headache.
Shade’s love for Dawn had been genuine enough. A red glowing band wrapped tightly around PsyKick’s friend, all but screaming mine at anyone who cared to look. It was the only positive connection to another human being that PsyKick had seen from him. Shade had looked at Dawn like he worshipped the ground she hovered over. Dawn had looked at Shade like he was a very nice man she’d just met and kind of liked.
Love like that could so very easily turn destructive.
PsyKick had made his disapproval known, and his evaluation of Shade’s mental state had trickled through to the rest of the Tenacious Teens, who all, to varying degrees, encouraged Dawn to break it off.
Nobody wanted their friend to date a ticking time bomb.
What finally broke them up, in a last straw sort of way, had given him and Tex endless hours of amusement. Dawn had confided it to Tex, who’d told it to Psy, which turned out to be a mistake since Dawn ended up blowing a fuse and chewing both of them out, making sure nobody else ever found out.
The brooding vigilante had a fetish for wearing woman’s underwear.
And now he was a woman.
Accident, yeah right.
PsyKick brought the scotch to his lips – only to end up coughing it all up as it burned his throat.
Shade, the bastard, looked amused.
“I wasn’t even the legal drinking age when I was locked up,” he said defensively, and her expression softened. A little. Her eyes were definitely still laughing at him.
“Then we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“…with a laser?”
Shade nodded, lips curled into a wide grin.
“Let’s just say Fusion Flare walked a little bowlegged after that.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.”
“You are making this up.”
“I swear.”
“There is no way you and Captain Patriot are friends.”
Shade chuckled softly. “It was an accident.”
“You’ve been having a lot of accidents.”
She precariously balanced her scotch glass on one finger. “I’m clumsy.”
“Admit it; you’re some sort of Good Twin cloned from an Alternate Dimension, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry I dialed the number.”
PsyKick squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s okay.”
“No, I was an ass.” She exhaled and stared at the ceiling. “My least favorite day of the month is coming up tomorrow; it puts me in a bad mood.”
“I do not need to hear about your PMS, man.”
She blushed. Shade was blushing. “Not that! Corporate meeting!”
“Oh.”
“Okay, man, I have been wondering this for over five years, and I just have to ask…”
PsyKick peered at Shade over his glass, her outline slightly blurred.
“What are you?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Ethnicity-wise.”
Ah. He got that question a lot.
PsyKick had olive skin and black curly hair, currently barely curled at all since it was too short. His jaw was square and his nose aquiline, yet his brown eyes were subtly slanted. Overall, he was a tan blend that could pass for a lot of ethnicities if one squinted, and had confused many a bigot who wasn’t sure what stereotype to apply. Tex affectionately called him Hispasian, though it was likely he had some Native American ancestry as well, given his almost complete lack of body hair. Overall, women found him handsome, so he was fairly happy with his looks.
Granted, somewhat less so these days. After three years of extremely limited physical exercise he was leaning toward skinny twig, though he had started regaining some of his old muscle mass.
“Dunno,” he answered truthfully. “I was raised in foster care.”
And that was also why he bore the generic name of Smith. He vaguely remembered having some unresolved issues regarding his heritage. It was a common occurrence for children anonymously given up for adoption, but not even knowing his origins had given him a very special case of adolescent angst.
PsyKick would give anything to trade his current identity crisis back to that one.
Shade hummed thoughtfully.
“I’m an orphan, too.”
“…with a mansion.” PsyKick had left foster care with not a cent to his name. He’d spent his spring break working two jobs just to be able to afford basic necessities over the semester.
“With a mansion.”
“You’re bad at bonding, you know that?”
She laughed softly and refilled.
“I get better with more alcohol. It’s how I make all my friends. All being one. Sample size needs some work.”
PsyKick smiled sympathetically, and raised his glass to toast to her.
Shade was right. She really was a lot more pleasant to be around once she relaxed.
“Kara?” PsyKick slurred.
“Mhmmm?”
“Make it two.”
Author's Note: You guys are THE BEST! Thank you for the kind words of encouragement, I had a huge smile on my face yesterday all day long. I know there's a bit of a tonal switch from oHaV to tTtB, and along with the protagonist change I was a little worried I'd alienated some readers. I'm superglad to hear that appears to not be the case, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the chapters to come! And yes, I promise the actual plot starts Soon (TM).
Comments
even without a plot it's
even without a plot it's still a fun read
...
If you're going to make a backhanded complement like that, at least put your name on it. Doing it as a guest reader is really cowardly.
~And so it goes...
Actually
I believe that is their actual login name here...
Janice
Meh.
Still no excuse for an asshat comment like that.
~And so it goes...
Actually, looks like
a toungue-in-cheek response to our wonderful author's statement:
and I found it humorous :)
Same here
Looks to me like Guest Reader's comment was an unmitigated compliment. And having posted a few things here myself, I can positively state that if someone left a review like that on one of my stories, I'd be tickled pink.
.
.
and she's here loving TTTB. (...just like Guest Reader lol.)
I did...
...indeed read it as a compliment referencing my author's note, and smiled :)
But I have to say, I also smiled at Erica's instant defense of my honor! Kind of sweet <3
So let's make up with a group hug!
To be more precise
The Guest Reader account is what it implies; an account guests can use to make comments without making an account of their own.
- from a different guest than the one above
I'll be honest
The new storyline doesn't have me strung out all day and nervously checking for updates all night, not like the previous one did with its GODAWFUL cliffhangers you kept putting in. At least not yet. :P
But it's good writing, a cool story, and we're getting to see more depth and humanity to these characters. I enjoy it and look forward to it every night. You're laying some groundwork here, I can see that. I can wait for The Plot.
Also, I'm a big sucker for superhero stories, I love'em. You keep writing with this caliber, I'll keep reading, enjoying , and Liking. Even so, I don't comment a lot on stories, and I've commented on yours more than most authors I can think of. You must be doing something right. :)
“Hey Texplosion, I heard you have a craving for my sword up your ass.”
Priceless...
Enjoying this too...
I'm definitely enjoying this as well... however, you just KNOW that once things kick off, it's gonna be at least as cliff-hanging as the last one... I'm not sure if it's safe to read Minikisa's work without taking anti-anxiety pills for the eons-long wait for 'tomorrow' to appear and with it the next segment... XD :P
Let the flames of inspiration blaze within, and the sky be less of a limit, and more of a challenge
Well...
Having pre-written quite extensively and gotten feedback on future chapters...
The cliffhangers.
They're worse than in oHaV. To quote a pre-reader...
"Oh my god minikisa, oh my god, as I said I'm usually not that phased by your cliffhangers, but god dammit ."
*leans in to whisper*
And it starts tomorrow.
Slow burn
I'm just moving the pieces on the board, letting the characters breathe a little before ruining their lives!
I mean...
telling the tale of rainbows and fluffy kittens.
Yes.
And thank you for taking the time to comment, it means a lot!
Make it two......
Underneath all the awkwardness and angst, Kara truly is a good person.
I am really enjoying this - I love how you are fleshing out so many characters, making them more than just a cape and a mask. It makes the whole story line so much more real. Plus, it helps that I have the same basic dry, sarcastic wit!
I can't wait to see what happens with Texplosion.....
Dallas
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
She is
Way, way deep. Though not quite as deep as it used to be. Diane's been busy with the excavation.
As for Tex... *winks*
Still Loving It
Still getting misty eyed over CoH. I find this to be a wonderfully bittersweet story to read.
Long live CoH
It's bittersweet to write as well :)
Kara is trying.
To break out of that cold, distant exterior here. And for a person the male Shade didn't care for at all. I think being with Diane has been more than just good for Kara. I'll wait for the plot to unfold, but watching PsyKick fighting to recover has been very moving in itself. Good writing here!
Maggie
Diane has changed Shade
In more ways than one, and I like to think for the better :) Male Shade was not a bad person, but really would have had no clue how to reach out to someone. His problem solving skillz were sort of covered with 'Can I stab it? Yes -> Stab it, No -> Leave it to someone else'
laser... what laser, where (insert question mark here)
I'm enjoying the slower pace of the story, and all the bits and pieces of the characters pasts, though if you keep torturing us with the punchline of a stories with lasers while leaving us wondering just what happened, I shall be forces to growl and glare at my phone for as long as I can keep from laughing (approximately 3.274 seconds)
Seriously though, these chapters are the highlight of my night (I need to get out more... or at all, then again I am in north dakota, so inside is nice)
And as always, thanks for sharing, please never stop. (Smiley face, smiley face, silly face)
(smiley face)
No intention of stopping, the cliffhanger express is ready to go!
I'm so happy you enjoy the story ^_^
So Shade gave Fusion Flare that.. um... how can I put it ...
*Jewish* operation?
Oh the PAIN!
-- Snort guffaw giggle --
I think I see the plot here. Our writer has left us a lot of possible clues.
Certainly the background is set and there are connections between the scenes, threads as it were.
So I am right, Constance, Psi Kick's love is alive. But why has she never come to visit him in the hospital? Hurts too much?
And why is Cinder Snow alive given what she did to him?
If I was Constance I would have been tempted to do to Cinder what she'd don to Psi. IE put the chip in HER mind and force Cinder to act contrary to her will thus making HER snap. Assuming she could be any less sane.
–grin --
BTW why didn't she force Cinder to restore her lover?
I mean Cinder seemed to scoff at the doctors as being incompetent. That SHE could have fixed him. She had used his own mind against him after all.
And who are these people or person interested in Cinder Show from The Future Is Unscientific?
I agree Shade is a much better person from loving Diane and being saved/transformed by her.
As to Dawn and the others?
Guess we will find out later.
Hum?
Please let Captain Dude Bro reform the fallen heroine of his dreams.
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. What I like is how so many of these heros/heroines/villains are not exactly what they seem to be. There is more depth, complexity to them. Complexities some are only now admitting to themselves.
And that both Psi Kick and Shade are orphans? Any connection there?
I mean why the immediate mutual dislike? Psi Kick admitted to himself he used his powers to poison the love between Shade and Dawn and to make Shade even more of an outcast among the heros/heroines.
And now they seem close to become good friends?
Sweet.
John in Wauwatosa
So many questions <3
I'll endeavor to answer what I can whilst still being a giant tease!
Starting with...Fusion Flare! What did the laser do to him? Well, it involves a Doom Squirrel... and that's all I have to say about that.
Constance did avenge what happened to her lover! Remember that Cinder Snow was presumed dead for 3 years, slain by Constance, and only revealed her survival to the world at the conclusion of oHaV (so about 5 months ago). And Constance did visit Psy in the hospital - but she stopped. I suggest rereading the epilogue as to why that might be, although there is certainly quite a bit to be told about her still ;)
It's definitely one person with a very special interest in Amelia.
Psy and Shade are orphans for very different reasons, which is why Psy mocks Shade a little for trying to bond over it, albeit goodnaturedly. Kara meant that she lost her parents at an early age, not that she was entirely without parents like him. I think the dislike on Psy's part is somewhat elaborated on in this chapter - Shade was a psychotic little ball of rage, which Diane has now soothed. As to why said psychotic little ball of rage with the huge, shameful secret might not be all that fond of a mindreader, well... :P
And the questions I didn't answer, I didn't answer because I'm too busy cackling evilly!
So you have your EVIL cackle down pat?
need to work on your HERO CATCH PHRASE next then.
So Constance visiting him in the hospital was not completely a dream? But even in his psychotic state his mental powers sensed the link between the sisters and...?
A Doom Squirrel?
NO! Not the GIANT NUTS of DOOM !
-- snicker --
And I can see why Shade with his secret hated mind powers. I take it his realizing something was wrong with himself is why he and his sitter grew apart? IE Shade envied his older sister's emerging womanhood as he cursed his being stuck as a male, a soon to be rather imposing one at that.
Mind you the female Shade is equally imposing so being tall is not a detriment now.
BTW how did their parents die? I don't recall if you explained that earlier.
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. Are Shade and Radiance legacy's ? IE the descendants of other Supers? Cinder Snow and Constance are.
John in Wauwatosa
Muahahahaha
All I need is a white cat and a swivelly chair and I'm a certified supervillain.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7edeOEuXdMU
It was indeed her emerging gender dysphoria that caused the rift between her and Caroline. Puberty was a special kind of hell.
The parents' death was shown in the prologue ;) And no, they're not legacies, though both parents carried the mutant gene, which is where both Kara's and Caroline's powers come from.
There'll be more on Caroline/Ian's upbringing later!
a unfortunate fact of site
is if your turning out good work, some people just read and stop commenting. still a great tale. thanks
Aw!
Thank you ^_^ I don't mind lack of comments per se - sometimes there's just nothing to say - but I was worried I was alienating my readership! I'm glad this is not the case!
Thank you
I have really enjoyed reading this series and hope you continue.
I have plans...
so many plans.
Definitely continuing ;)
“Make it two.”
giggles. nice moment
Bonding over scotch!
Truly the best kind of bonding.
If only I could have found a way to work the slashfic in...
Ha
Look at Shade, all grown up and making new friends and stuff! Now she has two and a lover and a sister (whom is going to show up at some point in the near future I assume).
-Tas
Aarrrgh! Acronyms
How could you do this? oHaV to tTtB, what kind of world are we living in. Despite all his little sayings, I just can't picture old Ben Franklin using an acronym.
>>> Kay