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#this is the cleanest draft of song related drafts
sherlokiness · 2 years
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The best balance is between close cousins. And Sansa hatches treason?
What do I think will be the actual song of ice and fire or the equivalent? Well, something that concerns a baby.
"He has a song," the man replied.
"He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire." He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany's, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. "There must be one more," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. "The dragon has three heads." He went to the window seat, picked up a harp, and ran his fingers lightly over its silvery strings. Sweet sadness filled the room as man and wife and babe faded like the morning mist, only the music lingering behind to speed her on her way.
Man, wife, and a babe. The first time we hear the title is when Dany saw it in the HOTU. Notice how the music is sweet and sad at the same time. Those are also the two words associated with Robert(sweet big) and Cersei(sad purple) drowning in someone's eyes.
"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her."
Again here, with Marillion offering a song to Sansa. He referred to her as a roadside rose but she's not a bastard- she's a Stark. So if she were to be a rose, she would be a blue rose as per the Bael parallel. We have three Bael figures(Bael, Rhaegar, and Abel) and all of them used a song to breach? the walls of Winterfell in order to be able to steal a Stark daughter. Jon's gonna need a song, amiright?
"I won't." He sounded almost like Marillion, the night he'd gotten so drunk at the wedding.
Marillion/Petyr are combined as one Bael for Sansa with the song and acting Bael-ish when he stole her and left a rose(Marg) in her place. She will probably kill him like how in the original story the father was killed by the offspring.
If not twins, the two were at least close cousins. This one was thicker and heavier, a half-inch wider and three inches longer, but they shared the same fine clean lines and the same distinctive color, the ripples of blood and night. Three fullers, deeply incised, ran down the second blade from hilt to point; the king's sword had only two. "Magnificent." Even in hands as unskilled as Tyrion's, the blade felt alive. "I have never felt better balance."
The sword ICE was split in half and it resulted in a sword with the best balance. There has to be half ice and it's between close cousins. Jon is half-ice (Stark) and half-fire(Targ) while Sansa is also half-ice(Stark) and half-fire(Tully) He's not a Snow, he's a Targ. She's not a Stone, she's a Stark.
My Jonsa agenda: Dany's third treason will result in Sansa being the bride of fire. The blue flower(a Stark maiden/Lyanna/Sansa) was/will be the bride of fire/dragon(Rhaegar/Jon).
A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . .
So for Jon to be Sansa's Bael, he would need a song to breach Sansa's walls.
"It will please me to please my lord husband."
That seemed to anger him. "You hide behind courtesy as if it were a castle wall."
"Courtesy is a lady's armor," Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that.
Courtesy as a castle wall.
Perhaps that would please Sansa. Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. It made him weary. Then and now.
It is no ordinary wall. It's The Wall. Sweet-smelling Sansa's first husband could not get past it.
There is also another wall of Sansa's alluding to her virginity.
"I am," the Imp confessed, "but not so drunk that I cannot attend to my own bedding." He hopped down from the dais and grabbed Sansa roughly. "Come, wife, time to smash your portcullis. I want to play come-into-the-castle."
And another
"That will give it strength enough to stand, I'd think," Petyr said. "May I come into your castle, my lady?"
I think that neither Tyrion nor Petyr will be the one to break her castle. She is a snow maid. Snow's maid. So Jon's song?
"Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow."
Life is not a song?
Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. "Life is not a song, sweetling," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow."
There is a hero so maybe what LF said is wrong too.
Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears.
Life in exchange for a song. I think what Jon will give her is a life worthy of a song? Or just a little life.
As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.
The first book ended with Dany hatching dragons and the music of course refer to the sounds they made.
"A child born of traitor's seed will find that betrayal comes naturally to her," said Grand Maester Pycelle. "She is a sweet thing now, but in ten years, who can say what treasons she may hatch?"
Sansa will hatch a treason. As @agentrouka-blog pointed out, treasons can also be children of incest.
The warlocks whispered of three treasons . . . once for blood and once for gold and once for love.
"No. Bastards are seldom made upon the belly." He wondered what his cousin would say if he were to confess his own sins, the three treasons Cersei had named Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella.
Jonsa baby will not be child of incest exactly but you get what I mean.
Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself.
The last book ends with Sansa singing to a babe and a man beside her.
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renaroo · 7 years
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Double Time (22/24)
Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.
A/N: Oh my gosh we’re so close to the end it’s almost stifling. But... I need to make things clear. When I was writing this chapter the Charlottesville protests and riots were taking place and... it cautioned me toward publishing this chapter so close to it because while I had drafted out this story back last summer, well before even the election, the coincidences in parallels between the villains’ motivations and the movements that are sweeping across America are hard for me to not address. I believe satire is a tool of ridicule, and I think history’s greatest monsters -- which I shouldn’t have to clarify are the Nazis and the KKK -- are therefore the objects of such satire because it removes their power. It removes their attempts at reclaiming certain speech and certain iconography. A smarter person than me on the subject has pointed out how nationalism and fascism cannot survive satire -- which is why media was controlled by the Nazi regime in Germany, and it’s why lampoons like Mel Brook’s The Producers and Blazing Saddles are not reclaimed by the current fascists while other characters and songs from more dramatic portrayals like American History X and even Inglorious Basterds have.
I’m not trying to be self-important. I’m a nobody fanfic writer who has been blessed with the amount of readers who I have had read to this point in this small story that is a soft romantic comedy of errors. It’s imperfect and in many ways impractical, but the satire here toward Nazism and fascism, and the parallels between the villains of this story and those ideologies are purposeful because I want to use my spite toward those ideologies for something that can be damning in satire. And any failure this chapter and the ones leading to it have had in not making that as clear as possible are entirely on me. And I would appreciate the rightfully made criticism of it as a result. 
This may seem like an unnecessary author’s note to make 22 chapters into a 24 chapter story, but it was the only way I could feel right on any level publishing the chapter given the current events. 
I hope that that is a clear statement and an understandable one. And I hope that moving forward we can all hope for a better outlook for tomorrow by fighting back with any tools we have. Even if those tools are silly, nonsense superhero parodies made with love. 
And as always, a special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, NinjaAtticus, @the-space-nerd-97, @icefrozenover, and @washingtonstub for the feedback and support!
Dangerous When Cornered
“How confident are you in this plan actually working?” Carolina asked as she stood beside Washington, looking up to the large skyscraper decked out in solid gold. “I’m not attempting to undermine, it’s just that I don’t really remember you taking charge very often in Freelancer. As in I don’t remember you taking charge at… well, at all. And suddenly you’re leading a battalion of superheroes who barely know what they’re doing.”
Washington glanced toward her before looking back to the building. “Well, to be completely honest with you I barely remember you being a part of Freelancer and you were apparently our leader so… Our confused confidence is about equal.”
“Ouch, alright then,” she said before a flash of blue sped past them and blew the wind through Wash’s hair as he stood where they had been on the sidewalk.
He was beginning to think he didn’t like speedsters. But it was all according to plan. Sort of.
Turning around, Washington faced the gathered group — the Reds, the teenagers, Tucker for reasons beyond Wash’s own machinations, Tex, and Tex’s motorcycle which she looked far too cool leaning back against. Wash wouldn’t have been able to pull that off if he tried. Maybe his next costume update could use a jacket.
Focus,” Wash admonished himself before walking over to everyone. “I have Carolina scouting the perimeter and giving us a good estimate of where we can go to press our advantage on Locus, Felix, and their financial backer. Given what Kimball and Doyle told us, the police will stay back to give us the element of surprise and help the clean up afterwards.”
“Fuck, you didn’t mention police, Wash!” Grif growled, looking around warily. “We’re not exactly the cleanest guys outside of Blood Gulch, if you get what I mean.”
“I’m squeaky clean outside of home,” Simmons argued. “I’m a librarian!”
“Dagnabit, Grif! We don’t care about your poor hygiene! In fact, quite the opposite! I anti-care about how long it’s been since the last time we took you outside the garage and hosed you down with a smattering of dishwashing soap,” Sarge announced loudly. “But one thing I can say for certain is that sure as this suit may be Red, I won’t allow for you to take our moment of shining glory with the Big Timers away from us! This is what I’ve always wanted since retirement! I mean. We. What we have always wanted.”
“For favor,” Lopez huffed angrily.
“Thanks, Sarge. I think,” Wash remarked in confusion before looking back to everyone else. “Tex, did you do what I asked—“
“I did it, but it wasn’t because you asked,” Tex snapped. “It’s because I owed a favor to Tucker.”
“Don’t use real names while we’re here,” Wash hissed.
“Oh! Does that mean I get to go by my codename?” Donut called out. “Double-Oh-Donut! Finally!”
Tucker looked at Wash win an expression that could only be described as not entirely impressed. “Yeah, Wash. We got it done. As stupid of an idea as it might be.”
“Your love and support means enough to me even if you being here and putting everything I care about in direct risk again after I almost lost it all might cause a slight aneurysm in the next half hour,” Washington replied.
“Oh, for fucksake, can you save the kissing ass until after we successfully complete our first mission?” Bitters demanded.
“It’s so exciting!” Jensen beamed.
“It should be pants-shittingly terrifying,” Washington corrected them. “This isn’t a simulation, this isn’t a game. This isn’t a training exercise where the only consequences are community service and spending a few hours being yelled at by me.”
“Ugh, it can only be better than that,” Palomo groaned.
“No, it’s not better. It’s far worse,” Wash said sternly, getting the teenagers’ attention almost immediately. “We’re about to face other super powered people. Very, very strong super powered people who are villains. You could even call them super villains.”
Andersmith leaned toward the other teens. “Perfect timing for a dramatic pause. I knew we were being trained by a true professional!”
“They aren’t going to hesitate to kill you,” Wash snapped. “And, to be honest, I can’t even assure you that any of you are ready for this level of crime fighting. Quite the opposite. I think you’re ill prepared and have not a single bit of experience or ingenuity to really work your way out of what’s to come.”
“Wow, so this pep talk’s going great,” Bitters scoffed.
“But you’re here because you — all four of you — have said to me that you want to be superheroes,” Wash continued. “And to be honest, all of you…” he paused, looking at Palomo sparkling, “…most of you have powers that would put mine to shame. I’m asking you to help, making you part of the plan because I believe that it can’t be done without you.”
They all stared at him.
“Wow,” Jensen gasped. “That’s the most inspiring thing anyone’s ever said to me!”
“Really?” Tucker asked critically.
“Must have a low threshold,” Tex shrugged at him.
“Hey, where’s our pep talk?” Simmons whined.
Washington looked at the Reds for a good, long minute and then shrugged. “We all make it out of this alive, I’ll stop blackmailing you do civil service stuff and instead we’ll just, I don’t know, call it square? You can fight crime or injustice or whatever it is you tell yourselves on your own time.”
“Fuck,” Grif laughed. “Good enough for me, don’t know about you guys.”
Tex’s head tilted. “Where’s mine, Mister Man?” she asked sarcastically.
“Tex, you get to punch things,” Wash answered.
She snapped her fingers in feigned surprise. “Fuck, you know me so well,” Tex smirked.
“Okay, is everyone settled finally?” Wash asked.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the wind beat against his back and Carolina reappeared by his side with a schematic in hand. “Here, drew this along the way. It’s kind of like a platformer, the final boss is on the top floor with his two goons.”
Wash looked at her, mildly concerned. “Do we have to fight our way through each floor? Are there ninjas involved? There’s always ninjas,” he muttered.
“I mean, we could,” Carolina shrugged. “But I think the quickest route is to take the elevator straight up.”
Pausing his looking over the schematic, Wash glanced at her. “What? Seriously?”
“Mhmm,” Carolina nodded. “Did it four times just to make sure. Ugh. It was so slow..”
“O…kay then,” Wash folded the schematic up and looked to the gathered team. “Everyone? To the elevator.”
As everyone rushed forward and ignored the receptionist who seemed rather miffed at the influx of people in tights, Washington hung back just a moment until it was just him, Tucker, and Junior standing on the sidewalk. They stared at each other for a long moment before Wash coughed into his fist to clear his throat. “I—“
“You want me to wait with Junior,” Tucker answered.
“Last time you were there for a big climactic battle we both ended up in a hospital,” Wash reminded him awkwardly. “And you were only involved with my superhero bullshit because Junior was at risk. And. Well. Today he’s… out here. With you. Safe. And I’d prefer to keep things that way.”
Tucker rolled his eyes but he wasn’t arguing, and that in itself made Wash breathe a little easier. “You’re so predictable.”
“Hate the tropes, not the hero,” Wash joked back.
Junior looked between them, the ridges over his eyes raised expectantly.
Tucker looked at Wash again, a little more warily, a little more nervous. “Did you… Earlier. You said you figured out the problem, that you figured out what we were super fucking bad at saying to each other. Y’know. The family shit.”
“Yeah?” Wash asked, tilting his head.
“Well… I mean… did you mean it?” Tucker asked.
Washington stared at his boyfriend for a good long moment. “That I love you? That I love having a family? That I love that I have something other than the city itself as a reason to go home safe every night? Absolutely I mean it. I mean every damn word of it.”
“Okay,” Tucker said with a fond exhale of air as he smirked at Wash.
“Okay,” Wash replied with a gentle smile of his own.
“Cool,” Tucker continued.
“Really cool,” Wash challenged.
They stood there, equally matched for a moment before Wash glanced toward the building and the sight of Tex about to punch the elevator’s open door button in frustration.
“Yeah, I really don’t have time to keep putting this off so you win,” Wash admitted to Tucker.
“Of course I do,” Tucker replied before grabbing Wash by the shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss.
While surprised at first, Washington nearly melted into the warmth of the gesture, wrapping his own arms around Tucker again and only pulling away to rest their foreheads against one another.
“Please stay safe, both of you,” Washington urged.
“No worries, I called Caboose and Church like you asked. They should be here any minute with my car,” Tucker answered, as if that was the sort of answer that would have given Washington any relief whatsoever.
“Great,” he forced himself to say.
They reluctantly parted, Washington taking a deep breath before pushing forward through the gaudy building’s doors and straight to the elevator.
“For the record, that took fucking forever,” Tex announced as Wash entered the elevator and she finally was able to punch the button to the top floor. “Carolina already ditched us and went up the stairs.”
“I was having a moment,” Wash answered, crossing his arms as he stood as close to the elevator doors as he dared get, everyone else crammed in the machine like sardines.
“We know,” the entire elevator replied.
Annoyed, Wash just stared at the digital floor gage and watched as it slowly passed floor by floor.
“How tall is this building again?” he asked curiously.
“Seventy-two floors, according to these schematics Miss Carolina got us,” Jensen replied, a rustling of paper could be heard in the main back.
For a moment, Washington just nodded to the news and then paused as he glanced at the large panel of elevator buttons again. He then looked over his shoulder suspiciously.
“It says seventy-five,” he informed them all.
“Yes, but if you notice, there’s nine rows of eight buttons. Which simple multiplication would tell you is seventy-two,” Simmons’ voice piped up.
“So they lied about three floors?” Tex scoffed.
“They don’t have six, thirteen, or thirty-three listed,” Grif pointed out. “Must be superstitious.”
“Must be liars,” Wash growled, putting his hands on his hips as he went back to watching the floor gage rise. “And I don’t think the world needs more liars.”
They all fell quiet for another three floors before Wash glanced over to Tex who had her arms crossed and was glaring at him.
“What? Was that too corny?” he asked.
“I feel like my cool factor will suffocate in this elevator before we get to the top,” Tex replied. “And you’re not helping.”
They fall silent again and go back to looking at the floor gage.
Once they reach the sixties, there’s an audible sigh across the elevator.
“This was not the bombastic lead up to this confrontation I was expecting,” Washington admitted reluctantly.
There was a grumble of agreeable noises that might have, under other circumstances, been a good thing but at that moment fell a little flat for Washington. He was ready for the elevator ride to be over and he was certain everyone else was, too, given how many elbows were being thrown and distressed whispers echoing about.
“Does everyone remember the plan?” Washington asked on floor seventy.
“Yes,” most murmured.
“There was a plan?” Palomo squawked.
Washington opened his mouth to address Palomo’s ignorance but didn’t have time, as the elevator doors opened and immediately a small, glowing ball of kinetic energy rolled toward them. “Everyone—“ Wash began to shout only for there to be a zoom of air past them all, fast enough to cause ears to pop, and the object was gone.
Everyone looked toward the large bay windows just outside the elevator where there was a gigantic explosion followed by another flash of blue.
Carolina stood, not even winded, before them. Her arms were crossed cockily. “What? You think I was watching from the shadows all this time and I hadn’t learned out to deal with these situations? A girl could get offended.”
“Nice!” Donut chirped up from the back.
A slow clapping drew everyone’s attention away from the moment of accomplishment from Carolina and toward the end of the long hallway where Felix and Locus stood between the group of heroes and the door to their financial backer. Locus stood silent and menacing, but Felix continued the clapping.
“Well then, it looks like our favorite cheaters made it to the top of the tower. Just to meet their demises all the same,” Felix hissed darkly.
“Dude, if you honestly expected people to fight their entire way up a seventy-two floor building just because you filled it with traps and ninjas when an elevator’s right there, your evil plans could use some work,” Grif retorted.
“It should be noted that while the Red Dead Blood Gulch Gang are notably recovered villains, there’s nothing in our verbal contracts to Washington that involves us not working as Evil Consultants,” Simmons added.
“Yeah, we start at two hundred dollars an hour, and the clock started with the first suggestion,” Grif continued. “If you want us to use stairs, don’t put a goddamn elevator right in front of us.”
“Shut up!” Felix snarled. “I’m not talking to you… you powerless, useless nothings.” He focused his gaze back on Washington, Tex, and Carolina. “I’m talking about the cheaters who aren’t playing by the rules because they don’t want to be tested, they don’t want to unleash their real potential.”
Having heard enough, Washington stepped toward Felix. “I don’t care about your approval, Felix. I never did. But I especially don’t care for it after you tried to put my boyfriend — tried to put my partner, who I have a family with, that I value very much — in a giant blender to try to kill him.”
Carolina looked Wash over. “Was… What happened to your speaking ability? Did you have a stroke or was that just pure corn?”
“It’s compulsory gay,” Tex clarified for them. “Wash just figured out the guy he’s been sleeping with is his boyfriend. I’ll catch you up on it… Honestly, never. I don’t really care that much about their relationship anymore because Washington sucked up all the caring for it within a hundred mile radius.”
Wash glared at Tex and motioned toward the obvious villains in front of them. “Can we police my PDA at some other time?”
“I, for one, am very curious about how compulsory Washington’s gay is!” Donut called again from the back.
“Shut up already!” Felix roared. “I am sick and tired of your oblivious bullshit routine! You obviously didn’t hear me the first time around, so let me make it crystal fucking clear to you that we’re just the beginning of a brand new enterprise here — a new stage of evolution for all of humanity, and no matter how much you whine and how much you play the world’s lovable idiots, you’re the ones that history is going to be remember as trying to keep our new humanity left behind!”
Locus turned just slightly enough toward Felix to be obviously glaring at him even behind his eyeless mask. “Felix,” he said in warning.
“No, shut the fuck up,” Felix snapped. “You’re not the most powerful one around anymore, Locus. I am. And I’m going to keep these idiots in their goddamn places.”
Tex visibly bristled. “Hold the hell up! Who’s the strongest?”
Everyone else in the elevator other than Carolina slowly sidestepped from Tex at the same time.
Felix seemed to be more taken aback by the challenge in Tex’s voice than anything else, but he quickly smoothed out his expression and turned just enough toward Locus to clear his throat and stage whisper, “Say, uh, I think those two just volunteered to take you on.”
“Two on one?” Locus said in a blood curdling low voice. “It’s the closest to a fair fight I’ve had in a long time.”
Without further warning, Tex turned invisible and Carolina zipped off at such high speeds that she was nothing but a blur of motion to the rest of them. But, of course, Locus did his disappearing trick as well.
“The best battle of them all and we’re not even going to see it!?” Sarge bellowed. “What a cop out! This is an absolute outrage!”
“Sarge!” Wash snapped. “Keep on task! Reds! Kids! Flank sides, Felix is mine!”
“Right!” everyone agreed at once before barreling out of the elevator in their designated spots while Washington raced forward, pulling throwing knives from his belt as he lunged for Felix.
When he saw what was happening, Felix let out an actual laugh. “You’re going to try and flank me? Me? You couldn’t even take me head on! You ran like the little pussy cat you are, Washington! Ran to your little boyfriend!”
With an aggressive growl, Wash threw the four knives in his right hand right for Felix’s head, which a psionic shield deflected almost immediately. It only served to make Felix’s smile widen.
“Wow, you really can’t teach an old cat new tricks. Seriously, Wash, when are you going to learn that you’re simply outclassed by the rest of our superior species?” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “Ah, well, it’s like they say,” he continued manically, raising his hands as the thrown knives lifted up telekinetically and turned to face Washington. “Survival of the fittest!”
Washington slid to a halt just before the blades were sent hurdling through the air at him. It was a simple enough leap over the arc of the blades, and he was fully prepared for a twist and pivot — certain that Felix would have foreseen Wash’s moves coming and adjusted for them. But to his surprise, they continued on their path. And once Wash landed, facing where he had just stood, he suddenly saw why.
Immediately, Wash’s heart sunk.
“W-Wash,” Tucker choked out, torso already gushing with the throwing knives — Wash’s throwing knives — sticking out of him.
“Tucker,” Wash gasped before screwing his eyes shut and grabbing at his hair. He tried to focus on the tangible sensation. “No. No. Remember it’s part of the plan…”
“Plan? Is it part of your plan to watch everything you betrayed your powers for go up in flames? All because of your own fault?” Felix mocked, walking forward with pure malice in his expression.
Washington wasted no time in turning on his heels and tossing another set of knives Felix’s way, ignoring Tucker’s voice “Wash, stop! Help!”
“Who would have thought you were so heartless, Washington,” Felix continued, stopping the knives midair again. He smirked, sweat trickling down his brows. “I’m almost impressed.”
“Impressed with what, dickbag?” Grif cried out first.
“Your costume sucks! And your colors don’t match!” Simmons joined from his corner of the room.
“Your complexion truly leaves something to be desired!” Donut called.
“And I’d say you fight like a little bitch, but considering everyone here knows that our little bitches are whipping your teammate’s ass, I don’t want to inadvertently compliment you with an outdated phrase!” Sarge hollered. “So you suck!”
“Lo que ellos dicen,” Lopez yelled flatly.
Felix took his gaze off of Washington for a moment to look around the room, growling as he saw he was surrounded by the dissenting voices. “What is this? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you think I could ever remotely care about your opinions? You… you normies!”
“Thing is, Felix,” Wash said, slowly getting to his feet, “I think opinions matter a hell of a lot to you. And I think it’s harder for your ego to not hear insults that ring true than it is for you to continue making the illusions that give you the upper edge. Especially if we distract you and force you to use multiple powers at the same time.”
Before Felix could respond, a thick black smog began to build up around him. Wind from a newly opened window made sure it gusted into Felix’s face directly as Bitters stood in front of it, full body smoldering hot. “Eat carbon dioxide, asshole!” Bitters commanded.
Felix forcibly coughed a few times before shaking his head and surrounding himself with a tighter, more visible shield. “You can’t break me with some stupid insults and your lame ass cat powers, Washington! My powers are beyond you! Beyond all of you!”
“Maybe,” Wash admitted. “But they’re not beyond all of us when we’re working together, right, Andersmith?”
“What?” Felix got out before glancing over his shoulder just in time for Andersmith, his metallic skin shielding over his normal body, began hammering into the psionic shield. Immediately it began cracking under the stress, letting more smog through to Felix, causing him to cough.
“Wash, that speech was fucking lame, man!” Grif yelled out.
“Grif! We’re supposed to be demoralizing Felix now! Not Wash! That can wait until later,” Simmons reminded him.
“Oh, right,” Grif replied before cupping his hands and shouting, “I wear orange better than you, motherfucker!”
Palomo somersaulted  to get right in front of Felix and wave jazz hands before giving off a flurry of sparkler-grade mini explosions off his skin. “Aaaaaand sparkle!”
“Fuck off!” Felix screeched, causing the shield around him to burst out in a wave of energy, knocking into everyone in the hallway. He clasped his hands on his knees and gasped for air as everyone else tried to gather their senses.
Everyone save for Washington. Palomo had been between him and Felix — fortunately for Washington, not so fortunately for Palomo.
“Felix,” Wash said, walking over to the super villain just before grabbing him by the nape of his costume. “Never threaten my family again.”
The punch Wash clocked Felix with was loud enough for an audible crack, sending the unconscious super villain to the floor in a heap. And making Washington regret his life choices immediately because that was his good hand and he was fairly sure that popped a few of his knuckles.
Just for his frizzled nerves, Wash turned around and looked directly to where the illusion of Tucker, injured and bleeding, had been before. And despite himself, Washington felt an immediate wave of relief when there was no such sight to be found with the psychic completely out.
There was a large thunk which turned Wash’s attention back to the matters at hand. Which happened to include Carolina and Tex throwing Locus’ body next to Felix.
“Did it honestly take all of you to put one down?” Tex demanded. “What babies.”
“And our fight was invisible,” Carolina reminded them, arms crossed.
“Not all of us,” Wash argued. “Remember the plan, Jensen’s ahead of us—“
The large golden doors at the end of the hall opened and revealed Jensen sitting in a chair, rather ludicrously tied up, while a tall, wrinkled, potato looking bald man with a sleazy looking ascot stood behind her.
“And what was it that the young Miss Jensen was meant to evoke, Mister Washington?” the man asked curiously. “I do believe that whatever it had been, it must have failed for, you see, no plan survives contact with the enemy, as General Erwin Rommel once said.”
Washington’s nose curled. “Are you quoting a literal Nazi?”
“Holy shit, what an utter douchebag, he’s definitely the main asshole of the assholes,” Grif added.
“Forget all that, he has Katie!” Palomo cried out.
“She’s fine for now, and will continue to remain fine so long as Mister Washington and I can have a civil chat,” the man continued, a small smile appearing on his wrinkled face. “And civil chats often require less distance between us.”
“Stand down,” Washington ordered everyone around him before slowly walking forward. “You’re Malcolm Hargrove, I assume.”
“You assume correctly,” Hargrove replied, brows raised. “Though, I must confess, that surprises me. I go through great lengths to keep my name private.”
“Yet you have the biggest building in the best part of the city and wrapped it up in gold,” Wash pointed out. “And you flashily made a big production of your two lackeys spewing your superior race rhetoric in front of the whole city. My boyfriend would say that you’re trying to compensate for something there.”
Hargrove did not seem particularly amused by the rhetoric. “And you believe that my bodyguards were acting out on behalf of some of my beliefs? That I would deign to believe in a superiority of those gifted with powers over those who are not? Do you even know what my powers are before you cast judgment?”
“Is it really necessary?” Wash asked, standing just inside the door to the extravagant, technology filled office.
“It’s simply everything,” Hargrove insisted, lifting his hands, eyes aglow. “You see, my abilities manifested late in life. Well after I struggled among mere humans, succeeded among them. It was not until other powered beings began to surface that I was able to unlock my own power. The power to enhance the abilities of other powered individuals. To make them better, stronger — more useful.” He lowered his hands, eyes returning to normal. “Of course, when I attempted to give power to those without our genetic evolution, it simply did not work. Their destinies were fixed, whereas ours were only unlocking. And after alien races began to threaten our world with their superior anatomy and technology, I knew there could only be one way to see to it that humanity survived.”
Wash was close enough to the office to see how advanced the tech was — not simply advanced, but how alien it was. And how familiar the retrofitting of it made it all seem. “You… were the one supplying those pods to Omega and Wyoming a few months ago,” Wash realized out loud. “You were still performing experiments, in Blood Gulch.”
“Where none of my experiments would be missed, yes,” Hargrove huffed. “Especially when it was so politically unimportant during an important, and seemingly unending mayoral election.”
“Prolonging bureaucracy! Absolutely diabolical!” Sarge howled from the back.
“But you don’t have powers of your own, you just enhance others,” Wash clarified, ignoring the rest of his team. “That’s why you had Felix and Locus with their whole charade.”
“I find that the greatest of our species are those who best utilize the tools they have,” Hargrove conceded. “It’s partially why I’ve come to admire you, Mister Washington. You have so little in the way of ability and yet here you are, not only facing me but leading a battalion of our fellow superior species.”
“Holy shit, someone shut him up. This race superiority bullshit is giving me fucking hives!” Grif demanded.
“Yeah, Wash, just punch him, he doesn’t have powers,” Simmons begged.
“He has power, it’s influence,” Wash contested, not taking his eyes off Hargrove. “And he has lots of wealth. Which is why, I imagine, Tex and Carolina were working to hack your systems for so long.” He smirked. “Fortunately, we found a shortcut.”
Hargrove raised a brow only to be caught off guard when all the computers surrounding him began to light up with a single, blue symbol — α. “What is this?” he turned and glared furiously at Washington. “What have you done!?”
“We have a friend who is very good with computers, but he needed to be closer to your servers for some one-on-one contact with it,” Carolina smirked, crossing her arms.
“Luckily, my boyfriend let him borrow a car,” Wash grinned. “And now that he has control of your system, he can finish what Tex was having him work on for the past few weeks while I was busy chasing my own tail: taking away a chunk of your influence and power — hitting you wear it hurts. The gold in your pockets.”
“Ha! Try to keep up the taxes on this giant golden phallic symbol now!” Donut hooted. He then paused and tilted his head. “Speaking of which… Does anyone else notice his head—“
“DONUT!”
“You can’t do this!” Hargrove snarled. “I won’t let you. I have evidence of your tampering — I’ll have you arrested at once—“
“About that,” Jensen finally spoke up, revealing she had untied her own ropes. “You didn’t really ask me about my powers, Mister Hargrove.” She then looked to Washington.
“Do it, Jensen,” he nodded.
She let out a huff and then lunged her body forward, throwing her arms out as she did so — a pulse unleashed from her so large that it hit every corner of the room, and with it every electronic blew circuits, spewing sparks all around Jensen and Hargrove. She then grinned at Hargrove, showing off her currently plastic retainer. “I’m kinda like a magnet!”
“This isn’t… you can’t!” Hargrove choked out angrily.
“Can and have,” Wash assured him.
In the midst of their triumph, however, there was a sound of something rolling. Washington looked down to the floor of the office and saw a pulsing small orb of kinetic energy. “What the—“ he looked back up to Hargrove just in time for Locus to make himself — and Felix thrown over his shoulders — visible. “Locus!”
“This is far from the end of things, Washington,” Locus said darkly. “You are a threat I will not avoid taking head on again.”
At that, Locus grabbed Hargrove and disappeared again, moments before the orb began its signature light show.
“Jensen!” Wash yelled, grabbing her by the wrists and flinging her back into the hallway. “Everyone! Run—“
The explosion went off and Wash could only see white.
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