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Chapter Forty-One: Buttercup
🕑 Added 2023-08-30 03:34:16 +0000 UTCA part of me wonders if I should have stayed out in the rain as a horror just slightly beyond my comprehension barrels towards me. It’s mouth splits vertically rather than horizontally, which lets it’s absolutely revulsive tongue loll out the bottom and flop as it runs.
“Correct me if my assumptions are off base, but you are troubled by your parents reaction to your Vanguard status, yes?” She asks, casually strutting to the middle of the gymnasium.
A bit of irritation at being forced to sprint like this when she’s just walking unbothered adds some bite to my response. “I—Is this just a Vanguard thing? Multitasking sparring with normal tasks?”
She pauses for a moment before flicking her wrist upward, and I notice the hellhounds increase their speed by a very notable margin. Tentacles sprout from the farther fathom’s back and spread out, corralling me into one half of the room.
“It is a me thing. I dislike speaking with others for long periods, though your case felt like a particularly apt one for me to speak on.”
I jump over a swung tendril, landing between the creature's shoulders, and launch myself off again. Unwilling to get beat down without my ascendant form for the second time in two days, I begin my transformation While I descend.
“Cease.” Menagerie says, her voice echoed dozens upon dozens of times on itself. The strings of darkness spinning themselves around me unravel and completely stop the process of my transformation before it can really start.
“Gu—oof!” I blurt, the sound slipping out of my mouth as I land flat on my back, my balance ruined by the interruption. I scramble back to my feet, but her two fathom-pets are standing in place with their tongues lolling out of their mouths. “The hell was that? Why, and how can you stop that?” I ask.
She does that same slight tilt to her head she did earlier, though it feels a lot more irritating this time. “It was an attempt to measure your resistance to outside influence; have you received no training on this?”
“I haven’t exactly had the spare time for even more training. I’ve been at this for like a week, maybe a little more. The days are kind of running together at this point.” I say, feeling defensive even though I can tell her question is genuine.
“Hum. I suppose I should also assist you with that deficiency.” She looks back at me, meeting my eyes. “Unless you’ve somewhere else to be?”
My objections catch in my throat, unable to refute her. I really don’t have anywhere to go right now. Certainly not home. I swallow my still stuck complaints before reluctantly speaking. “I do not. Please help me with this.”
Her expression doesn’t change, but I can see the tinge of smugness on her face regardless.
“Good. Again, but this time speak of your plight.”
Both of her fathom surge towards me, but they veer to my left and right to try and get one of them in my blind spot. I skip backwards, launching myself past their positions so they both remain in front of me.
“Shit. Um, I finally worked up the courage to tell my parents that I’m a Vanguard now.” I pant, having trouble putting words together as I avoid these clearly intelligent predators. “Didn’t go—oomph—great.”
I try to enter my ascendant form again while she’s distracted formulating an answer, but a single word from her nearly sends me prone again.
“Elaborate. What sort of response were you looking for, and what did you receive?” She responds, not an ounce of emotion in her tone.
My feet leave the ground as I jump over the first of the creature's tentacles, grabbing the remaining three as they come at me. A bit of numbness spreads throughout the arm I caught it with, but I ignore it and yank instead, sending the creature sprawling towards me.
“I don’t know? I don’t think I had a specific outcome in mind, but I guess being fully accepted would have been nice.” The second hellhound leaps towards me, acting overly aggressively to keep me from it’s partner. “I think it’s pretty obvious I didn’t get that.”
The click of her platform boots unnerves me as she paces. “Do not tell me that something is obvious; state clearly what happened.”
The first creature stands back up, glaring at me with the three eyes along its snout. A rumble like shifting earth escapes its throat as it walks towards me, it’s steps synchronized with the click of Menagerie’s shoes.
“Right, well, I suppose I’ll have to give some earlier details for that.” I say, my eyes locked on the beast, my legs tense as I wait for it’s next move. “I had texted my mother that I needed to confess something to them. I guess I wanted to give them some time to steady themselves so they’d react better.”
“I suppose that proved ineffective?”
I sidestep the creature's lunge, punting it in the side and running before the other one can follow up. “Sort of? Ungh. It’s hard to explain.”
“Attempt.” She demands, looking a little irate that I kicked her “dog.”
“Well, they assumed what I needed to confess was that I was gay.”
Genuine surprise flashes across her face, and I make another attempt to enter my ascendant form.
“No.” She states, enforcing her will on my pitiful attempt. I definitely felt something this time, though—something familiar. I’m about to explore that feeling when her next question derails my train of thought.
“Are you not?”
Any progress I had made towards blocking her commands falls apart, the need to explain myself dominating my thoughts.
“What? No.” Some muddied emotions come to the surface that I don’t feel like investigating. “I don’t think so, at least. That’s really not the point here, though.”
She nods, acquiescing to my point. “Granted, I had just assumed since you and that blonde one were always together that you preferred the fairer sex. Apologies for the miscommunication; you may continue running.”
Her mention of Sydney sends me through a burst of sudden contemplations that I definitely wasn’t this self-conscious about before. Why would—I blink away all oncoming thoughts, definitely not needing the distractions they pose. One of the fathom has circled to my right, circling me opposite to the one now on my left.
“Right. Their reaction. They were super supportive of me coming out—which I wasn’t. But that support was exactly what I was looking for when I told them—” I spin around a claw racing for my neck and use my own tentacles to grab it and throw the creature over my shoulder. “—That I was a Vanguard.”
“And you didn’t receive that?” Menagerie asks, lifting her hand and flicking it towards her pets.
Their muscle mass visibly increases as I watch, and scales slide from their flesh, layering them in reptilian armor.
“No, I did not.” I say, grimacing, but more at the modified behemoths stalking me than the memory of my parents reaction.
I barely dodge the stab of one of the creature’s tongues; it’s size deceptively long compared to the mouth hosting it. A set of my tentacles wrap around it—I’m not touching that thing with my hands—and I yank it forward, pulling it off balance. Even if it’s beefier now, having something pull on your tongue can’t feel great.
“I guess I might have been expecting too much, but it just felt so much worse getting that exact acceptance literally seconds before but for something else.” I rant, gripping the horns of the second one, staying where it can’t get me.
I might be getting a little too much catharsis from tossing these things around, if Menageries emotionless glare is any indicator. Jumping off in a way that knocks the one I'm standing on into the other one, I land and dash to the other side of the room.
“Would you care to hear my experience with the topic? It is not my intention to compare the two, though the alternate perspective might provide some insight.”
I pause, hearing a bit of vulnerability in her voice. “I’d like that, if you’re comfortable talking about it.”
Her scoff contains more emotion than I’ve seen from her the entire time I’ve known her, though, admittedly, that isn’t very long. "I am long removed from my parents sway; any discomfort their memory would have caused me is now buried beneath the limestone of my estate.”
I reel back a bit at the limestone comment, shocked at how metal of a line that was compared to how she’s spoken so far. Not that I can blame her. If I owned a castle, I’d probably talk about burying things beneath it too.
Her eyes unfocus slightly as she recollects, and I do my best to listen intently while avoiding her hellhounds that have caught up to me.
“In terms of acceptance, I’d say my parent’s were sufficient. I received plenty of praise for joining such a prestigious organization, though it was more like one would praise a dog than their own daughter.” She says, sliding her hand along one of the beast's flanks at the word “dog.”
A set of tentacles swinging for my midsection forces me to roll across the floor, leading me right into the waiting jaws of it’s accomplice. I harden a section of my own tendrils after shoving them inside its mouth, stopping it from biting and letting me slide beneath it.
“So they treated you like a pet?” I ask, huffing from exertion.
“More like a showpiece, if anything. The funds I earned fighting off fathom were siphoned into a new house and luxuries for the two of them, and I just let it all happen. I built the very pedestal they put me on and posed just the way they wanted me to.”
The fathom clamps it’s vertical jaws together, shattering the obstruction I put in its mouth with only a portion of its strength. “If you could see them doing that, why’d you go along with it?”
“I couldn’t see it, or rather, I refused to. I was desperate for their approval, and that meant ignoring the blatant truths arrayed in front of me.” She states, opening her umbrella and setting it on her shoulder. “I even forced my darling companions into shapes that would suit the image my parents had for me better.”
I take note of the healthy dose of self-loathing in that last comment, but don’t comment on it.
“It wasn’t until Vanguard Eclipse actively confronted me about it that I allowed my situation to change at all. I believe her words were something to the effect of: ‘Your parents don’t love you, they love what they gain from you,’ Which is an exceptionally terrible thing to say to a seventeen-year-old, but I am grateful for it nonetheless.”
I try to reconcile the overbearing woman from the cafeteria with someone who would go out of their way to help someone out of a manipulative situation, but it’s a little tough. I suppose that’s a little unfair, though it’s not like I know much about her at all.
“Yeah, I’d say that’s a bit much.” I say, bouncing off a wall and landing near her.
“Verily. But it was the jolt I needed. I took her challenge and showed my parents a video of the version of me that fight’s to defend us. I made them watch me tear a fathom in half. Would you like to guess how they reacted?”
My stomach churns, having a pretty good idea. “Not pleasantly. I’d imagine.”
“They were terrified. Revulsion and horror were all I received in exchange for everything I had done for them. They even had the gall to request that I do things more cleanly, that they couldn’t show this kind of thing to their ‘friends.’ As if my every fight wasn’t a struggle to survive at that point.”
The creatures mouths are releasing a constant rumble at this point, and a sulfuric liquid drips from their mouths. Their actions grow in intensity as Menagerie speaks, like violent instruments reaching some ominous crescendo.
“I made a choice that day.” She says, spinning the horrific umbrella on her shoulder. “No person would ever again dictate to me how to live.
How to act
How to Dress
How to do anything in this godforsaken world.”
Her shoes click as she turns to look at me, and I realize that I have to transform. Quickly. I reinforce my mind, mentally pushing against the various weaknesses I’ve discovered with my attempts. The process is like a reverse version of the grasping feeling that came with breaking Naomi’s invisibility.
Her fathom rush me; their speed easily double what it was previously. I can see the word on the tip of her lips, just waiting for me to try it.
I flip the switch.
She speaks, and it feels like an army is assaulting the bastion of my mind. Psionic battering rams break down everything I’ve reinforced. I feel the threads of darkness wrapping around me as I steel myself with all I have, trying to expedite the process in any way I can.
The pressure drops off, Menagerie’s interference finally ending and releasing me from that mental hell she put me through. I finish my ascendant form, the increased abilities that come with it allowing me to grab both of the hounds by their lower necks, twist myself, and slam them down behind me with a crash.
I follow them with a thud of my own soon after, my physical and mental exhaustion finally catching up to me after I delayed it for so long.
“I feel as if the resistance training was more beneficial than my advice, but c'est la vie.” Menagerie says from above me.
I feel the shade from her umbrella block the room's lights from my face, which is pleasant.
“Nah, you were right. The alternate perspective helps a lot. I don’t feel like my issues are resolved, necessarily, but I also don’t feel quite so worried about everything either.” I pause, considering, “Though that might be the exhaustion.”
She actually laughs, and the surprisingly bright sound brings a smile to my face too.
—————————————————————————————————————————
“You know the Vanguard I mentioned earlier? The one who designed our phones and helped us set everything up out here?” Revision asks, leaning over and handing me a towel.
I nod, downing nearly the entire water bottle that was prepared for me in one go.
“He’s actually on his way here for some repairs, if you wanted to meet him. I also think he’d have some helpful insight into your problems with your parents if you wanted to share.”
Pressing the towel into my face gives me a bit more time to think about that question before responding. I don’t know this guy, so sharing something as personal as my parents theoretical rejection seems a bit unwarranted… But It’s not like I really knew Menagerie before this either, and I definitely feel a lot more secure about things after talking to her.
I pull the towel from my face, most of my sweat going with it. “Alright. I’m a little hesitant about talking to a stranger about this stuff, but I trust the both of your judgments. I’ll talk to him.”
Before I can even ask how long that’ll be, a sharp knock sounds from a new door that appeared when I wasn’t looking.
“Ah, Blaire says our guest has arrived.” Menagerie states, stepping towards the door.
I nervously follow, leaving Revision between me and the panting hellhounds padding their way after us. I trust that they’re obedient, but the one on the right definitely has a grudge after I tossed him that one time, and I’m not going to risk it.
We make our way through a weirdly long hallway that I’m pretty sure only partially exists, the details of the paintings along it’s walls stirring and smudging as we pass. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until we reach the door at it’s end, step through, and leave the discomfort behind.
“You do somewhat get used to it.” Revision supplies from behind me, noticing my reaction.
I don’t respond; my eyes locked on the robotic-looking man sitting on the bench in front of us. His posture looks worried, and it only magnifies as he looks up at me, the multicolored display on his mask hiding his expression. No one speaks for a moment; a stillness settling over the room before he speaks.
“Hey Buttercup.”
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James Walsh
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