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Chapter 136: Shock Therapy
🕑 Added 2023-03-07 15:16:35 +0000 UTC***Chemestro***
“So, is he cool?” Sin-Eater asked, clinging to Chemestro’s left arm, deliberately squishing herself up against him. It didn’t make him want to recoil violently anymore, which was a testament to the girl’s persistence and the effectiveness of exposure therapy.
It did still bother him on a professional level, given that one of his arms was being detained.
“He’s a driven, talented force of will,” Chemestro said. “Second place in Neuron’s family is a higher standard than any military on the planet.”
“But is he cool?” Sin-Eater asked.
“I don’t think ‘coolness’ is a factor.” Chemestro replied as they arrived at the penthouse suite where Warp had made his lair. Lairs were more for Tinkers, but they weren’t unique to them. Anyone could use a base of operations from time to time.
“That’s what makes you cool.” Sin-Eater said.
“Warp? It’s Chemestro.” He knocked.
No response. He was sure Warp would be home.
Frowning, Chemestro tried the handle on the door, finding it unlocked. It sounded like there was someone talking inside.
Cautiously, he pushed the penthouse door inward.
Clink. Clink.
Empty bottles clattered away from the bottom of the door as he pushed in.
The sound of children’s cartoons became clear as the door opened up, and Chemestro found Warp on the couch, naked under a blanket, his head tilted backwards over the seat as he snored.
“Gah, what?” Warp asked, snorting awake and squinting against the light coming from the doorway. It was the only light in the room save the shifting patterns of the TV. “Steph, is that you? You get the ice?”
Chemestro stood in the doorway, studying his brother and the environment he was dwelling in. bottles of liquor practically covered the floor, there were traces of white powder rimming Warp’s nostrils. His eyes were bloodshot, and…
“You’re losing muscle definition,” Chemestro said.
“Oh, twelve forty two,” Warp groaned, rolling his head back on his neck and staring at the ceiling. “The fuck do you want?”
“I’m going on a trip this weekend. Should I die –“
“That’d be a relief,” Warp interrupted, shifting in his seat. “Ow, no biting,” he said, slapping a part of the covers, which had slipped aside to reveal a naked thigh covered with faint streaks of white powder.
Warp noticed Chemestro’s gaze and gave him a mean-spirited grin, pulling the covers further up to reveal most of the anonymous woman’s plump, cocaine-laden rear. “Groupies,” He said by way of explanation before glancing over at Sin-Eater. “Seems like you’ve got one too.”
He felt Sin-Eater stiffen beside him, and took that as a cue that Warp’s behavior was unsettling, or at least inappropriate.
Chemestro glanced over at the penthouse suit’s bed, which had at least two forms curled up under the covers.
“You seem to be experiencing substance abuse,” Chemestro said, prompting Warp to break into a manic giggle.
“Experiencing substance abuse? What are you, a goddamn child?”
“I see you’ve been acclimating to civilian life.” Warp had always been better with people, quicker at adapting. Making friends and finding ways to avoid hard work if he could. Usually it worked out in his favor, since any optimization of effort was valuable in Neuron’s family, but it seemed to have backfired in this instance.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Warp let out a belch.
“I want you to look after the two to five thousands if I die,” Chemestro said. “They look up to you.”
“Fuuuck that,” Warp muttered, reaching out and grabbing a bottle of whisky before downing a large gulp, exhaling in pain as the alcohol burned its way down his throat.
“You-“
“No, you listen here, you goddamn robot.” Warp said, leaning forward and jabbing towards Chemestro. “I am free. I have nothing to do with you, or that hellhole we crawled out of. Neuron is dead, and you know what I found out?”
“It was fear. Fear of Father was the only thing keeping me going, propping me up. Now that it’s gone?” Warp blew a raspberry and motioned with his hand. “I really like not being afraid.”
“Oh, you poor-“ Sin-eater began, her voice saccharin sweet.
“Don’t!” Warp shouted over her, leaping to his feet, his lips curled back into a snarl.
Chemestro reached out and grabbed Sin-Eater, making her intangible. She fell through the floor, mascara-enhanced eyes widening. An instant later a riot of blades of warped space passed through the space she’d just occupied.
The door and wall behind where Sin-Eater had been standing crumbled into chunks.
Chemestro calmly reattached the finger that’d gotten caught in the attack while Warp panted, his bloodshot gaze fixing on his brother.
“Calm, 802. I too find sympathy from civilians infuriating. It grates on the ears.”
“Right?” Warp said, a shadow of a smile returning to his face.
1242 made himself invisible and propelled himself forward, seemingly teleporting as he arrived directly in front of his brother. He shoved his intangible fingers into Warp’s brain and grabbed the super’s throat in a firm grip, slamming him against the wall.
“If you needed fear to keep going, all you had to do was ask,” 1242 whispered, watching 802’s expression closely. 802 was drug-addled and slow, dull from overindulgence. He no longer could escape the grapple, because if he killed 1242, the Catalyst’s fingers would become tangible in his brain, killing him instantly. And he knew it.
“I’m going to correct one thing you said, and give you a warning,” 1242 said to his captive audience. “We’re less free now than we’ve ever been. Because now, we are Father, and the responsibility for all our brothers and sisters lies squarely on our shoulders. No one else. Do you understand?
802 nodded vigorously.
“Keep the groupies, lose the drugs. Get some exercise and a therapist.”
802 nodded.
“And now the warning: If you ever try to hurt one of my teammates again, I’ll turn you into dust. Understood?” 1242 looked his brother square in the eye.
802’s eyes narrowed, a hint of his steel resurfacing. “Understood.”
“Chemestro!” Sin-eater’s voice called from the hallway as she sprinted to get back to them.
“You can be the ‘cool’, worldly brother, that’s fine.” Chemestro said, patting Warp’s shoulders and backing away from him before pulling the cover off of the groupie who’d tumbled to the floor when his brother had leapt to his feet.
“Ack,” The young woman groaned, diving behind the couch for cover as if her nudity had suddenly made his gaze into laser-beams.
“I don’t mind being the scary brother.” Chemestro said, offering Warp the blanket.
“I can see that,” Warp said, wrapping it around his waist an instant before Sin-Eater made it back to the door.
“Is everything okay!? Are we fighting!?” she asked, glancing around the room, her gaze lingering on the wrecked wall where she’d been standing.
“Look at that, not even out of breath!” Chemestro said upon seeing Sin-eater arrive. It made him happy to see how far she’d come in a few short months. “You know, two months ago it would’ve taken you over twenty seconds, but you got back in thirteen. That’s real progress. You know how many times someone can get stabbed in seven seconds? Sixteen stabs. Ha. ha. ha.”
“Huh?” Sin-eater cocked her head at Chemestro’s jovial attitude.
“Sin-eater, my brother here has got some major depression and substance dependencies starting to form, along with some family trauma. Would you mind…”
“Oh, sure.” Sin-Eater faced Warp squarely and inhaled, causing Warp to shudder as something intangible was drawn out of him and into the Wildcard’s mouth.
Sin-eater doubled over and retched up a football-sized, skeletal birdlike figure that struggled to crawl towards Warp. The pale-skinned girl picked up the creature and snapped its neck, reducing it to black sludge in her hands.
“Holy shit,” Warp said, blinking as he glanced around the room. “Holy shit!”
“Yeah,” Chemestro nodded. Sin-Eater’s powers were still evolving, but they were always heady to experience. Warp probably felt better than he had in years. Maybe ever.
“I still hate you,” Warp said, stumbling towards the closet and yanking out his hyperweave.
“That’s fair,” Chemestro said with a shrug. “So if I die…”
“I’ll take care of the brats,” Warp said, dropping the blanket to put on his hyperweave, prompting Sin-Eater to squeak and turn around, covering her eyes.
Chemestro frowned at the redundancy of turning her back and covering her eyes, but decided not to comment on it.
“Are you guys done here, or what?” Warp asked, glaring at them.
“Yeah, we’re done, come on.” He tapped Sin-eater’s shoulder and the two of them headed back outside.
“That bird was small, I thought the trauma would be bigger,” he said as they walked.
“It’s not all of it. I’m working on controlling their size and taking smaller pieces. It’s more effective when you take away a little bit of pain, and give them time to adjust, because too much just leaves a gaping hole for other bad stuff to fill in,” Sin-eater said.
“Ah. Well, you’re the expert.” Chemestro said as they made it to street level. “Also, don’t express sympathy to me or Warp. It feels disingenuous because we’ve never encountered it until recently. It feels like mockery.”
“Aw, you poor baby,” Sin-Eater crooned, pulling him into her bosom.
“I said not to do that,” Chemestro said, hesitating a moment longer than he should’ve to slip out of her grasp.
“I’m not expressing sympathy,” Sin-eater said. “I’m mocking you.”
“I can’t tell the difference.” Chemestro said.
“I know.”
“LET ME GO YOU STUMPY SLATTERN!”
Chemestro frowned, glancing up from Sin-Eater’s embrace to spot Paradox’s team-mates staring at him from down the sidewalk.
The taller one with the brass-colored hair was dragging a Nocul behind them who was gnawing at what appeared to be an extension of Wraith’s arm used as a rope. She didn’t seem bothered by it.
“What are you doing?” Chemestro asked, straightening.
“What are you doing? Wraith asked, motioning between Chemestro and Sin-Eater.
“None of your business.” Sin-Eater said, crossing her arms.
“Well then, what we’re doing is none of your business.” Wraith said.
“Where’s your team lead?” Chemestro asked. The two looked extremely guilty.
“How about this?” Hardcase said, stepping between them and Wraith. “You didn’t see us kidnapping a guy, and we didn’t see you coming out of a love hotel?”
Chemestro frowned. “We weren’t doing-“
“Deal!” Sin-eater said.
“Deal,” Hardcase agreed, and the two raven-haired girls shook on it.
A moment later, the two superheroines were walking away, dragging the hapless Nocul along with them.
“Did I miss something?” Chemestro asked. “Was there some operational reason you agreed to that deal on our behalf? She was totally wrong about her assumption.”
“Did you…want them…to think…we…” Chemestro slowly unpacked the strange logic.
“You know, I don’t think your brother is as cool as you say he is.” Sin-Eater said, changing the subject. “What with him trying to kill me and all.”
“I never said he was cool.”
“I think you’re cool.” Sin-Eater said, clinging to his arm as they walked away.
Chemestro drew in a heavy breath.
“I know.”
***Natalie***
“Those two, huh?” Heather said, shaking her head. “Weird.”
“I think it’s nice!” Natalie said. From what she knew about his situation, Chemestro deserved a win. Or if not that, a hug. If she’d met him before Perry…
“Let’s face it, you’d date anyone above an eight, even if they were crazy.” Heather said.
“N-no! That’s not true!” Nat protested, thinking back to her time in high school sitting in the rafters and drawing the cheerleaders and football players in lewd poses.
“It is true, you know how I know?” Heather asked.
“I don’t wanna keep talking about this,” Nat said, trying to bury her face in her collar.
“Because Perry and I are crazy!” Heather said, her arms spread wide. “By any reasonable standard, you should’ve run the moment you met us, because we’ve both got some screws loose, and probably up your odds of violent death or horrible spell-related incident by a thousand times.”
“Your entire statement just implied that you think Perry is a nine or ten.” Natalie muttered into her turtleneck.
“N-no! Perry’s a four,” Heather said, “I am a ten, together we are a fourteen. That was your logic when you decided to date us.”
“Sure, babe,” Natalie said, patting Heather’s shoulder. “Everyone knows that you average when double dating, not add.”
“You Tinkers suck.” Heather pouted. “Being all smart and shit.”
“As fascinating as this is,” John Nocul said, his riding leathers smudged up from the fighting and being dragged across six blocks of pavement. “I’d really rather not be subject to banal conversations on teen romance.”
“Then you should’ve just passed out like a good boy.” Heather said.
They had dropped Boomer through a warehouse ceiling straight onto on John as the powerful mage was relaxing, playing some form of dominoes with his minions. The robot had proceeded to shake the nocul like a terrier with a rat, preventing him from getting a moment to cast.
Wraith had knocked out the minions while Hardcase had applied a Noob Hunter from their arsenal, preventing him from casting. They had then bundled him up and were now carting him off to his grandmother.
“Ambushes on mages are surprisingly effective,” Nat mused.
“Right?” Heather asked.
“Where are you taking me?” John demanded. “If this is some plot to dispose of me in secret, you’re going about it all wrong.”
“It’s a surprise!” Natalie said with an undercurrent of menace as they turned onto Gintax Blvd.
“Wait.” John’s eyes bugged out as he spotted the Mysteries Beyond Death sign. “Wait, not this. I can pay you! Five million dollars each, huh? Rare spell ingredients! I’ve got Areonite! Powers beyond mortal ken, just don’t. Take. Me. In. THERE!”
“Too bad!” Heather said in sing-song, shoving John through the door of his grandmother’s shop, causing the doorbell to ring.
“Welcome, travellers!” they heard Amelie’s voice emenated from the back. “How may I-“ The old woman stopped mid-greeting, staring wide-eyed at her grandson.
John froze, withering under his grandmother’s gaze.
“Here’s a letter from your grandmother!” Natalie said cheerfully, pressing the letter into the nocul’s frozen hand.
John Nocul
Twilight Zone, Washington City
“There,” Heather said, approaching the front desk. “Last task complete. We knew he was in town since he tried to crash a party just a while ago, figured we’d deliver him to go above and beyond. Can we get that spell now?”
“Oh, my dear grandson!” the ancient nocul witch cried, jumping over the counter and engulfing her restrained son in a bear hug, rubbing her cheek against his wild mane of hair. “I thought you were dead!”
“You wanted us to deliver a letter to a dead man?” Heather asked, brow cocked, glancing at Natalie.
Nat shrugged. Maybe Amelie wanted them to go to the underworld to deliver the letter…if that was a real thing. Would’ve been almost as tough as canceling her cable subscription, honestly.
“Gramma, you’re embarrassing me in front of the human peasantry. GRAMMA!” John cried as the withered nocul blubbered all over him.
***Later***
Wraith-Lord (Difficulty: Advanced)
Ingredients: twelve jangles of areonite, one fist of vivant root, user’s blood, a chisel of high quality. Nocul Vow of Lordship. One high-quality piece of haunted iron with a spirit of good or better compatibility to the intended recipient, Silver coin bearing an image of Death.
Combine the areonite into a single bar, and then create a circlet out of it, hammering dusted vivant root into the metal at a cherry red temperature.
Use the chisel to etch defining moments of the spirit’s life onto the outside. On the inside, inscribe the Nocul Vow of Lordship, along with the name of the spirit in question.
Once the crown is completed, touch the haunted iron to the circlet, and tap the iron with the coin, starting from the furthest point away from the point of contact, working way forward, gently ringing the silver coin repeatedly against the iron. This will force the spirit to move to the circlet.
You will know you have been successful at moving the spirit when a layer of rime suddenly forms around the contact point between the iron and circlet.
Once the spirit inhabits the circlet, don it to trigger the spell.
You will be drawn into the spirit’s world, where you will offer your oath of Lordship to the spirit. If they accept, the spell is complete.
If successful, the spirit will become a Wraith serving the caster, sharing abilities with their liege, and becoming capable of physically acting on the material plane for short periods of time. Total Power is related to spirit quality, and the extent of abilities shared depends on compatibility.
Low compatibility spirits are not advised, as their wraiths may attempt to undermine their masters.
“So nice of John to give you all that Areonite.” Natalie said as they performed the finishing touches on the spell.
“I got video of his grandmother rocking him like a baby,” Heather said with a mischievous grin, hefting the silver coin bearing the image of the Grim Reaper.
That would do it, Nat thought, watching Heather perform the last step of the spell. Nat had helped with some of the more complex crafting details, but anything that Heather could do, she had done.
Ting…ting…ting…
The ring of silver echoed through her dad’s garage as the silver coin travelled slowly down the length of the iron club, hypothetically scaring Anya into jumping ship and moving into the circlet.
When is it supposed to-
The entire room dropped in temperature by at least twenty degrees as a layer of frost sprung up on the club and the circlet, binding them together with ice.
Heather disconnected the two pieces of metal with a soft grunt, setting aside the club and raising the circlet to the yellow incandescent garage light.
“Did it work?” Natalie asked, feeling like a bit of a fool for asking a silly question.
“One way to find out!” Heather said with a grin, placing the crown over her head before Natalie had a chance to advise caution.
Heather’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to tilt towards the table saw.
Natalie yelped, rushing forward as a sudden burst of adrenaline gave her the speed and strength to grab Heather’s hand and pull her away from all the dangerous tools.
Sadly, this made Heather topple on Natalie instead, pancaking her against the concrete floor.
“Oof!” Natalie groaned as all the wind was driven out of her lungs.
“Oh my god, either you’re way heavier than you say, or I’m way weaker than I thought,” Natalie said with a grunt of effort as she tried to move Heather off her chest. After a minute of effort, she simply gave up and decided to wait until Heather woke up.
I guess this is where I live now. Either the spell works or I wind up a skeleton, pinned under my girlfriend who lied about her weight. Maybe it’s all the extra muscle from working out. Can’t say I dislike it, except in this specific instance.
Natalie didn’t have to wait long as Heather gave a sharp inhale, her eyes fluttering open. Under Natalie’s gaze, the areonite circlet was absorbed into Heather’s head, vanishing as if it’d never been.
Is that healthy?
Heather blinked a few times, took in her position pinning Natalie to the ground, then tilted her head to gaze up at Nat, her cheek resting on her chest.
“What’d I miss?” Heather asked.
“You passed out for a minute. Can you get off me? The concrete is cold and hard.”
“Mmm….I don’t think I will,” Heather said, drawing herself up until they were face-to-face, Natalie pinned to the floor.
Uh oh.
Thump. Nat’s heart began hammering in her chest.
“Lemme do something about that concrete,” Heather whispered with a smirk, shortly before she began to melt around Natalie, cocooning the Tinker and interposing herself between Nat and the floor. The individual rivulets of Heather melting around her tickled, causing her to squirm.
Then they started moving on their own under her clothes, making her squirm even more.
“Heather, not in the garage!” Natalie struggled to speak.
Comments
Romen Martin
Because then she gets the other two done for free and she can up the price as a consequence of them not being able to deliver the letter
Josh Cothran
Why would she try to deliver a letter to her dead grandson
Ryan Naquin
If Amelie thought John was dead why is the letter addressed to Washington City?
