#Nanosurge

[sunsetno4]

Color me curious. How long did it take before your Sidestep fully revealed their face? To Ortega, Anathema or whoever was the first? o:

[autistic-sidestep]

someone remind me to write up my fh disability theory reading meta at some point

[sidesteppostinghours]

should i be asleep right now???? probably. but i cant do that right now because im busy crying about the parallels between step and argent.

[kittlesandbugs]

Empty graves Fandom/Pairing: FHR / Argentstep Word Count: 392 Warnings: Retribution spoilers for Argent route, lil suicidal ideation Summary: Just a little rumination about one of Sidestep’s and Argent’s parallels.

"How does it feel?" 

The question is so quiet you almost don't catch it. You glance over and her head is bowed, not meeting your gaze. Is that… is she shaking?

"How does what feel?"  You look back towards the ornately engraved granite. Your gaze falls to the ground in front of it. You're not reading it, just giving her the dignity of some privacy. You don't want to read it. You won't. Not now. Maybe never. You drag a hand down your face. It doesn't do anything to clear the fog in your head or settle the curdling in your guts. 

"Looking at your own grave. Knowing it's empty."

It's not something you want to think about. Talk about. So you sidestep the question with your own. "Don't you know?" 

Not playing fair, but if you're honest, neither of you really do. That's how she got you to come here in the first place. 

But she says nothing. She's as still and unreadable as her mind. Just when you're wondering if she'd even heard the question, you hear a quiet little, "no."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so instead of saying anything, your cold clammy fingers tangle with her soft slick ones. You were right. She was shaking. 

She squeezes back and it fades. Her discomfort, anyway. You still want to throw up. 

"So, how does it feel?" she asks again, steadier. More insistent. 

"I don't know," you sigh after a moment. "Sometimes, it feels like I came back to this city just to fill it."

You feel her gaze turn to you. Sharp. Searching. Prying. "Do you want to?" she asks, soft but shrewd. 

You huff a little breath that can't really be called a laugh. "Do you?" 

"No," she says and you believe her. "Some days are hard but… no. Do you?" she insists on asking again. 

A cracked little chuckle this time, and you turn and walk away. You're not answering that one. Would she tell Ortega if you confirmed what she seems to suspect? Can't chance it, you'd never get any peace. 

"Want to go see yours?" you ask instead as she falls in beside you, a sidelong dare in your gaze as you meet hers. She looks away. Score one for you. 

"Let's go get breakfast," she says, hand retaking yours again. 

"Yeah."

[oldsoul--newmachine]

Sleepless Nights Get More Done: A Fallen Hero Playlist

I lived and breathed this playlist for a long time. These are only the songs I conglomerated together while working on the Retribution guide to get me by in the dead of night. In the order that I had added them, over a period of 9 months. You can see the cutoff point, when I was made to think of The Void (just listen, you may understand). It's an interesting reflection for me on where my thoughts were at; I certainly found something special to express about self confidence, and the Outside scar. During this time is also when I finally named my MC Wicke. Shamelessly after John Wick. And also Citizen ("There isn't any miracle... I'm leaving. These are my last lines. Farewell to you, my unknown, to whom, when I came down with 'soul', I revealed all of myself, right down to the last pulverized screw, the last busted spring... I'm leaving.")

I've listed all below. Most having meaningful connection for me, some are just series vibes. I actually removed a few I later decided had no real significance. Snatched a few from other playlists.

Boats on Fire - Seeming

2. If You're Shooting With The Left It Means The Right Side Is Working - Ashbury Heights

3. Sick - ThouShaltNot

4. Blue Lips - Regina Spektor

5. Machine - Regina Spektor

6. Tear Me To Pieces- Meg Myers

7. Celebrity Skin - Hole

8. Sarcasm - Get Scared

9. I Really Want You To Hate Me - Meg Myers

10. Blue - The Birthday Massacre

11. The Green Room Pale - Pale Shapera

12. Bodysnatchers - Radiohead

13. The Fighter - In This Moment

14. Blue - A Perfect Circle

15. The Outsider - A Perfect Circle

16. Annihilation - A Perfect Circle

17. The Invisible Plan - Kidneythieves

18. People Are Strange - The Doors

19. Sections - God Module

20. Floating Angels - Kidneythieves

21. Monster - Imagine Dragons

22. Angry Too - Lola Blanc

23. Killing In The Name - Rage Against The Machine

24. Left For Dead - Ksenia Lewis

25. I'm Back - Royal Deluxe

26. Another Way Out - Hollywood Undead

27. Outside - Staind

28. Blast Doors - Everything Everything

29. Appetite For Destruction - Vo Williams

30. Top Of The World - Dorothy

31. Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe - Digital Daggers

32. Drilled A Wire Through My Cheek - Blue October

33. Dude, Where's My Skin? - Schoolyard Heroes

34. Synthesize Me - Diorama

35. Control - Halsey

36. The Noise Inside My Head - Assemblage 23

37. Cut The Cord - Shinedown

38. I'm Alive - Shinedown

39. Blood Code - Le Castle Vania

40. Sharks - Imagine Dragons

41. Cult Leader - King Mala

42. You Don't Own Me - Nikki Williams

43. The Death Of Me - Meg Myers

44. The Noose - A Perfect Circle

45. White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane

46. Hurt - Nine Inch Nails

47. Right Where It Belongs - Nine Inch Nails

48. Liar - The Arcadian Wild

49. Coma White - Marilyn Manson

50. I Love You Citizen-Extended Version - Seeming

51. Green Valley - Puscifer

[silvery-bluish]

45 & 50 for Ars if you're still taking prompts? :3

Prompts are from here!!

Pardon me being a full TWO WEEKS late with this but here. u go. they both ran longer than i thought they would so we'll say that makes up for them being late.

Wordcount: 644 + 612

Contents: For 45-- Sidestep era, Ars has a fever the whole time. Themmy and Ricardo are there. To ground it vaguely in the timeline, this is post-Catfiend Incident (so after the start of the (not?)not dating situation) but prior to the nanosurge.

For 50-- chargeflystep with absolutely NO grounding in any specific canon spot. we just don't know. Just fluff!

45. Feeling their temperature

You can’t find him. You’re looking with your closed-eyes and your open-mind, stretched as far as you can go-and-farther, looking, turning minds over like rocks. Wrong wrong wrong none of these are right, you can’t find him, the shields are all wrong. You’re not supposed to lose him. You promised.

Everything’s— hazy-prickly uncomfortable, and you feel like you’ve— done this before, maybe, this searching. Deja vu like a too-small jacket. And you’re freezing, burrowing deeper into your hiding place. Can’t come out till you find him, or it’ll just be you versus the world—

A knock on the door. Nobody knocked except you-and-him-and-them, wide-flung focus contracting down to oh outside the door. Shake off the haze of half-sleep. 

Touchstone-smooth. Cool, like the underside of a rock that’s been baking in the sun. Right. Looking won’t do you any good, probably. You struggle out of the cocoon of blankets, no orange in sight you’re cold colder now but that’s Anathema at the door and you like Anathema so you should answer. 

Fumble with the locks. Click-click-clunk, clumsy-fingered now. Three tries to get the highest one unlocked. 

“You look like death warmed over,” Anathema says, once you’ve cracked the door enough to see them.

“Thanks,” you croak, voice thick. Take a step back so they can get through the door, and clunk-click-click the locks back into place. 

“We were worried,” Themmy says, “It’s been days. You could’ve said you weren’t feeling well,” and they were concerned, that you didn’t. 

“I’ll be fine,” you say. “It’s just the flu.” You think. 

They frown at you, bring a hand up to place it on your forehead. Cool and dry. Sense-echo similarity to their mind against yours.  “You’re burning up, Arsenic. Sit back down. Have you taken anything yet?”

You… let them shepherd you back to your daybed, re-bury you in blankets. They get you a cup of water once they realize nope, you don’t have any medicine around. Themmy has their phone out, glancing between it and you. “I’m going to ask Ortega to pick some stuff up,” they say. 

“Yeah, okay,” you say, even though he’s only been over here maybe a dozen times over the last couple years and it’s always felt more… precarious, to have Ortega in your space than it feels to have Themmy in your space. 

Slipping back into a doze is— easy, with their comforting presence nearby. Putzing around your little kitchen, getting themself a drink. You maybe lose some time. That’s okay, Themmy’s keeping an eye on it. 

And then more knocks to the door, nothing on the other side but quick-shifting static. Static didn’t usually knock either, but Ortega does. Sometimes. When he wants into your apartment, anyway. 

Anathema undoes the locks to let him in, and when you crack your eyes to peek at him he’s staring back at you. Worry, probably, if you’re reading the little frown and the knit of his brow right. “Gonna give yourself wrinkles,” you murmur, and he makes an offended noise, putting two bags down on your counter. 

“I bring you medicine and soup and you insult me?” he asks, all overblown-offended. “You sure they’re sick?”

Then he’s putting his hand to your forehead too, and wincing at the temperature he finds. He lingers a little longer than Themmy did, though, tucking a strand of your hair out of your face. “‘m fine,” you say, token protest none of you believe.

“Pull the other one,” he says, and you reach a hand out of your cocoon to yank, slightly, on the fabric of his pants, which wins a laugh.

It’s. Weird, letting them help you. You’d been resigned to just-- sleeping whatever this is off, like you’ve done before, but you’ve got your whatever-they are here, helping. Having your back. 

It’s a risk. And maybe it’s the fever talking, but you’ll take it.

50. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

Neither of them has noticed you yet, quiet footsteps your default and no point changing that here. Plus, it’s fun to surprise other people, sometimes. When the stakes are low. 

“They asked me why I liked them, once,” Daniel says, “But they didn’t actually let me say anything.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Ricardo replies with a shrug. “They never did know what to do with complements.” Like they’re comparing notes. Or cheat codes. 

…odd. Normally, you wouldn’t like people talking about you, but this is. Weirdly fine. A little annoying because it means they’re conspiring, but not. Not bad-annoyed. Weird fond-annoyed. 

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say, and they both turn to look at you. 

“Bet they can’t get both of us to shut up,” Ricardo says, aside to Danny not to you, and whoops this was a mistake.

You can feel your face heating and neither of them has even said anything, Ricardo’s smug grin slowly being echoed by Daniel dammit. 

“Your eyes—“ and that’s enough of that, darting out to cover Daniel’s mouth mid-phrase and Ricardo’s mouth preemptively because you’ve got your fucking hands full, now, apparently. Literally and figuratively. 

The curve of Daniel’s smile broadening against your palm, and— yeah that’s entirely unsurprising, Ricardo licking your other palm. Shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Green eyes struck by light bright and beautiful/the slightest wrinkle to their nose from a secret laugh he’s always trying to catch/quick-jump analysis when they’re putting something together—

“Oh, that’s not fair,” you complain at Daniel, and he bursts into muffled laughter. A brief glance between the two of you, and Ricardo’s catching the skin over the ball of your thumb between his lips, gently, but present. And soggy. Ugh.

You know when you’re losing a fight, sometimes, making a face at both of them and wiping your hand on Ricardo’s shirt. “No,” you say, “We aren’t doing this.” Your face is still burning, the weight of attention and affection landing on you like a slightly-too-heavy coat. Comfortable now, but threatening to be too much.

“One complement?” Ricardo wheedles, and you scowl at him.

“Daniel got three in because he was cheating,” you admit, like pulling teeth. “Fair’s fair.”

“Telepathy is not cheating,” Daniel says, “I’m still communicating. You’re still listening.” And you’ll-- admit that too, yeah, tip of your head to acknowledge his win. You’re not really willing to do the telepathic equivalent of slapping your hand on his mouth and you don’t want to shutter your mind, so. Not really cheating, you suppose.

Ricardo pauses, for a second, lips pursing as he thinks. And then his eyes flick back to you, little tilt to his smile that means he’s got a plan. A plan he just came up with in the last ten seconds, but it’s still a plan.

“Your roundhouse kick is still a thing of beauty,” and that sparks a memory, just the two of you in his kitchen so long ago, both unsure but both trying something anyway, and you laugh, wheeze startled out of you. “And you’re always three steps ahead in a fight. Smartest person I know.”

“Chen’ll be offended,” you say, and he makes a pffff noise of dismissal. Smile still tugging the corners of your mouth.

“There’s that smile. Gorgeous, when you let me see it.” And there’s a seriousness to his tone, a fondness, that makes your face burn. Duck your head, a little, drop your eyes, to try and keep that weight of focus from getting too heavy.

“No more of that,” you say, but they’re both still grinning at you, even as you fold your arms. 

…you’re still fond-annoyed, not mad-annoyed. Weird.

[glitchy-npc]

bonus points for explanations!

[anjiefiction]

Another one for @fallenhero-rebirth! For the Nanosurge this time, because it sounds absolutely horrifying.

[bibyvariable]

i bring u all a lady argent drawing but before u can see it:

Based on that moment during the nanosurge.

so like tbh i don't even know if this drawing is ENTIRELY lore accurate because i haven't read retri in a hot minute but i had the idea and was compelled to draw it... Lady argent enjoyers wya ‼️‼️

this song is literally argentstep. the vibes the lyrics everything

[camillathe6th]

After the Storm

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Malin Rydén, as always. CONTEXT: the new demo is here and, okay, I haven't finished yet, but it DID jumpstart my una-writing motivation so here we go. Starting back slow, just a short dialogue, something sweet. WHAT TO EXPECT: Una is recuperating at the Ranch after the Nanosurge. Ortega comes to visit. They "communicate".

Fall 2011 A few weeks after the Nanosurge, at the Ranch. (UNA)

In this strange place the world thinks in murmurs, a muffled sea, a quiet tomb. A UW solution of sorts. Something to keep your brain from eating itself raw before it heals back into life.

Open it was, your brain, to salt and screams. Weeping meat. Meeting weep. They swept inside, inside your skull box, and with them all—the whine the wail, the merge the howl, a swarm of slick-licking                      guts-thirsting                                             blood-letting            PAIN, again and again, Swallow, guzzle, devour, DEVOUR,            devouring YOU whole.

No. No you. You disappeared. You remember that. No you. That's it. You remove you and NO remains. No, no, no, NO.

Meeting weep. Weeping meat. Is something weeping still?

N          o. You dig the heel of your hands into your eyelids and breathe in deep. No. Nobody’s screaming anymore. No is the key. The strength, the fight, the barrier, the melody. No no no no. Keep saying it. Keep chanting it. No no no no. The power, that's yours. No no no no .

No, not this. That's what you felt. Not this, not him. Take everything, but not this. Anything, anything but this. Selfish, really, what made you say: No . It usually is. Selfish. Selfish is self-full. That's what you are. Who would have guessed?

(Continued here.)

[the-rebel-archivist]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Ahh thank you, how exciting! <3

Deliberations on the Inevitable | Morrigan/Amell, 2731 words, rated T

Frederick comes to terms with needing to leave the family he hasn't had enough time with to search for a cure for the calling. His blood is growing angrier and Kieran knows. Morrigan exploits the weakness that is love

Faded Dreams | Morrigan/Amell, 1191 words, rated T

Frederick had wanted to be a hero once. He had believed in fairy stories and myths. But his own adventure turned out differently than he'd thought and now he drifts in and out of the fade in dreams where things just might be different

The Queen | Anora /& Amell, 1968 words, rated G

The boundaries of courtly love are tested between the queen and the listless warden who has come to admire her deeply. A fill for the prompts "That was very formal" & "I like to be polite"

Brain Sprain | Ortega /& Sidestep, 500 words, rated G

The nanosurge left a deep mental scar on Sidestep, despite their best efforts to pretend things are normal. A fill for the prompt "On a roof, slipping, no eye contact"

Heart-Blood | The Dark Urge, 1191 words, rated M but it's on the border between M and E, mind the tags

"A little Urge - not even an adolescent - stands with a tiny dagger atop a bloody heap." It's the Dark Urge before they're that, trying to make sense of how Other they are. Slow building horror, very gory

[mortumslab]

Remembering to be Human - Chapter 2

The second chapter of my rendition of Retribution into Revelations and Revolution. Hope you enjoy it!

tw: suicidal thoughts, ideations. Alcohol use.

Link to Chapter 1:

-

During the cab ride, you’d expected there to be only three outcomes. Death was the most attractive. Now, you suppose part of you dared hope to be held by Julia following a life-changing experience. 

“Jules… I’m sorry. For everything.” You’re not sure why you’re breaking the silence, but you need to understand what’s going to happen next. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says softly, turning to you, running her hand down your back - shivers trail up your arms. “You only saw one option to bring them to heel. And I want to help.” 

She slowly gets up and finds two robes. You wonder, briefly, why she has two but suspect the answer would be as funny as it would be awkward. Donning the robe, with a flourish not unlike Heartbreak’s, Julia giggles. “You developed a flair for the dramatic, didn’t you.” 

Smiling softly, you reply, “Sidestep wasn’t much for the dramatics. Neither was she one to cause a scene. I needed to learn to do both to get my job done.”

“Your job…” She bites her lip in concentration as she leads you to the kitchen table. “What is your plan?” You did not expect to have this conversation today, but you’ve got nothing left to lose. And everything left to gain.

“I wanted to lead them to the Farm. To what the Directive is doing. The Director is above the current administration and beyond what is expected or tolerated.” You feel the anger suffusing you again. Righteous. Purposeful. Your crusade. “Begin by undermining the current establishment. I told Blaze, you, Chen, and anyone who would listen that the people you work for are the enemies. That you’re working for them.” You don’t blame her, and by her reaction to that, she knows you don’t. 

“I lead them to Deveraux. But there are still more mysteries to solve. When Los Diabolos is cleansed of those that favor the actions of the Farm, then I will take the fight to them. To finish this. Once and for all.” You feel like a warlord giving your final speech before a battle. Despite being naked in a bathrobe in your… girlfriend’s home. Another weird thought.

“Okay.” She says very simply. Which almost makes you laugh. “Then we need to start by bringing in the others.” She’s serious, and you know she’s right, but you flinch anyway.

“Danny… he’s not going to like this.” You know he’s not been the same since your battle. You hurt him in a way you never meant to. You meant to get killed, to be stopped. Charge just couldn’t do the job. And neither could Lady Argent.

“I know. And you’ll have to beg for his forgiveness. He idolizes Sidestep, but unless you apologize, he’ll be a loose end that we can’t tie up.” You know she means she won’t be able to help if not all the Rangers are on board. You expected as much.

“Then we’ll have to convince him my— our goals are worth it.” You see her smile at your slip. “I know there are documents that can help. I’ll get Dr. Mortum to draw them up for me. That’s another problem I need to solve.” You know you’re talking out loud, but everything is on the table now.

“What do you mean?” She frowns. “You work with Mortum, too? No wonder your armor is so powerful. And your disintegration powers… do they work like her gun?” You realize that no one knows about the neutered nanovores. And remember that Argent will be livid that you possessed her. Oh well, you have an idea to fix that. Not a good one.

You hesitate briefly, “I don’t have disintegration powers like that.” You’re not sure how to say it, but you were the hero of the Nanosurge, so it’s not like you don’t know what they’re capable of. “They’re actually neutered nanovores; it’s what I used Argent for back last year.” You realize she probably didn’t know about that, but her reaction tells you she suspected it. 

“Arya… you know how dangerous those are.” She’s not chiding you, more worried about your safety. The original creator of the nanovores was eaten by their own design. 

“I know. Mortum reprogrammed them. The casing on my left wrist - the one you almost destroyed,” you say with a small smile, “is where they’re housed. They don’t eat organic matter. And the Rat King and I control them.” Now she’s confused, it’s a funny expression.

“Rat… King?” She’s looking at you like you’ve become a victim of a Disney film. “wait… Blaze mentioned he felt like… like rats were talking to him when you nearly killed yourself after Deverauex.”

“Psychopathor’s gun runs off a weird psi-sensitive targeting system. It’s hard to explain, but I called this pentad of rat brains the Rat King, and he seems to like it.” You’re talking a little fast now because everything you say sounds ridiculous. “And when I called the Directive on him last year, I used them to remove the gun and take it.” She laughs suddenly, “That was you? But it was a deeper voice?” And now you have to spill that last bean.

“After Heartbreak I developed new powers… and I became an alpha-level telepath. I can control other people for a time. Though higher willpower makes it difficult. It doesn’t hurt them; just gives them a headache.” She looks a bit put off. But not upset. 

“Alpha-level.” She whispers softly. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. You nod but don’t say anything.

“So I need to speak with Mortum, get documents from Heartbreak, and probably let her into the fact that Eden was me all along.” You finish your sentence and realize Julia looks like someone smacked her.

It takes her a minute to process what you said. “No wonder we got along so well.” She sounds exasperated but in a ‘my girlfriend is insane’ and less of an ‘oh god, I fucked a villain.’ “I knew she was connected to you, but I didn’t… how does that work?”

"I found her in a coma 3 years ago. She was wasting away and brain-dead. No one coming for her. I saved her body; maybe one day I can save her mind. But with whatever Heartbreak did to me, it was very easy to operate her as though she were my own body." You feel your cheeks reddening. "I tried to avoid you, but you don’t let up easily.” You know she was probably onto Eden as your liaison.

“I knew she was connected to Heartbreak, but I wasn’t sure how. She— you kept dodging me so well.” You smile softly. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to get her involved with you as well as Mortum. Things were, and are, getting so difficult.”

There’s a long silence. She’s thinking - not that you can see into her mind, but she’s biting her lip in a way that also furrows her brow. “So what do you need me to do?” 

“I need you to collect the Rangers, and I guess we need to discuss this. I can’t give up the villainy act or come out as Sidestep again. The Directive will be all over us and you guys can’t get caught up in this until we’re ready to completely bring it all down.” You’re serious, and you know she can tell. 

“So you’ll still have to be a villain to the public?” She’s worried, but you’re not. You have her now. 

“Yeah… for now. For now, operating on the underground gets me connections the Rangers cannot. And allies we may need. I know you’ve been hunting Hollow Ground and I plan to go for them as well.” You see a flicker in her face. It’s not the same anger, but… nervousness?

“What?” You ask.

She ignores that question, “I agree we’ll need the underground contacts. I guess it’s only a matter of how we still pretend to all be enemies. That is if Danny and Argent are willing to forgive you.”

“I agree, but why did you flinch when I said Hollow Ground.” You’re not letting her weasel out of it.

“When… when I first met you. God, this is gonna sound so dumb now. I had already seen Hollow Ground’s face. Well. At least this version. She’s the second one. The first one was her brother. This is the one who killed Hood. And when I saw your face. You both look so similar.” She’s not making any sense. You don’t know Hollow Ground. At all.

She’s still speaking, “—I looked into her and found her youngest sister. But she was reported dead. And I had suspected you were fleeing from their business. That was why you hid your face. I never suspected… the Re-Gene angle.” She doesn’t even stumble over the last part. You hide your affection with a swift look at the ground, biting your lip. You know the Farm uses genetics from viable, powerful boosts. Maybe Hollow Ground is partly your genetics? You repeat this to Julia.

She nods, “That would make sense. Both Hollow Grounds are immensely powerful. The name came from a geokinetic user, at first. The current one, I believe, is a telepath.” You understand now. Why no one knows Hollow Ground. “She’s erasing their memories. I can do it, I don’t, but I could.” 

“Okay, so… we collect the Rangers, and you’re going to go solve the issues with Mortum?” Julia looks excited to actually do something. Happier than she’s been in a long time, except maybe half an hour ago.

“I need to explain to her who Eden is and bring her into my confidence. At the very least try. Hopefully, she doesn’t shoot me or anything.” You’re half-joking, but she’s pulled a gun on you before.

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“God no, imagine the former marshall and a dead hero showing up to meet her; she’d probably pull out some monster of a machine and obliterate us.” You start laughing at the idea. Laughter. The first belly laugh you’ve had since Heartbreak’s release - since your manic laughter at the gala. Except this is pure. 

Julia is laughing, too. The idiot. The lovely idiot.

You leave the apartment. A bit numb. It’s dark now, but inside you’re bright. You’re invincible. The hardest secrets you’ve kept are out, and it’s a relief. You knew being perceived as a villain was going to hurt. But you knew your enemies were on the side of angels. So you couldn’t be. You kept trying to get into the villain aesthetic but you never could. The only truly heinous things you’d done were hurting your friends. Though, at the time you had no idea the depths of their love for you. And, you admit, you wouldn’t have cared. Heartbreak scarred your emotions. Untied you from reality. Dissociation, like Dr. Finch said. Something that you managed to regain when you spilled to Jules. Parts of it, at least. Maybe the rest will recover when you finally have the Rangers on your side. Or when this is finally over.

You arrive back to the penthouse; Savannah looks up, readying herself to leave. 

“Good night,” you smile at her. She works late, but usually just takes contracts from people who need a former telepath to help them make deals. Your cover story.

Moving to your desk, you press the small button under the etched wood. In front of you, the wall shimmers and reveals your plans. Your board of civil unrest. Connections from Devereaux to Carter to the Mayor. To Hollow Ground and the folks she has purchased. Someone you probably share genetics with. You’ll have to deal with that soon.

Pulling out your phone you call Dr. Mortum, knowing she’ll still be awake.

“Hello, mon amie, what can I do for you?”

“Hey, I need to talk to you. Or, rather my Boss does.”

“In person… or…”

“Yes… there have been some… developments, and she needs to share some secrets.”

“Okay… where?”

“Joes is fine. She’ll be in armor, but she’ll want to talk privately inside the bar. She’s not going to hurt you. She doesn’t hurt innocent people.”

There’s a soft laugh, maybe slightly sarcastic. “Mon amie, I am anything but innocent.”

“You’re not the one she’s leading a crusade against.” 

“Very well. Tonight?”

“If possible, yes. In the next hour.”

“Will you be there?”

You swallow hard, “In spirit.” You try to make it sound light, but it probably sounds forced.

Now you don your armor, and without letting yourself overthink it, you make your way to the garage where Rosie hangs out till the late evening hours. She’s still here, and she gives you a weird look as you approach and, without hesitating, remove your helmet. Rosie’s eyes widen briefly before she says, “Holy shit, you’re Sidestep. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Good telepaths never stay dead.” You say though you wish sometimes you had. No, no time for those thoughts.

“I just… wow okay.” She takes a second to collect herself. “Why now? Why are you revealing yourself?” She’s asking the right questions, you’re glad you’ve trusted her.

“Because we’re about to make some serious progress and some dangerous, but reliable allies. You know I was a Ranger associate before I died?” She looks suspiciously at you, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re going to work with them?” She looks a little scared, maybe angry.

“In a sense. They’re going to be brought in on the plan because this plan requires us all working together. If we’re going to bring down the government, we need the ones with the power. And they trusted Sidestep.”

“So what do you need me to do?” You can tell she accepted that, that there was a reason her boss never killed. Almost an anti-hero. A vigilante.

“I need you to take me to Joes and then to Ranger HQ. If I don’t get killed at Joes first.” You’re going to just make this a big day. For everyone.

“Oh.” She looks nervous, but then shrugs and hops in the van.

You stop for a moment, breathe, and then, using your helmet HUD, send a message to Ortega to let her know you’re going to Mortum and then to the HQ.

She replies almost instantly, giving you butterflies; who is this person you’ve become? The message is short but sweet. 

“K. I have them assembled. They’re confused, but I told them we needed to trust you. I love you.” 

You respond with a heart emoji, not yet sure how to say it back, but swearing to yourself you’ll work on it. Your second thought is wondering why Mortum installed a messaging system with emojis into the HUD, but that’s neither here nor there.

You settle calmly in the back of the van, spreading your senses and assuring no one has noticed you. All is calm, for now. No dead spots to indicate the Special Directive is onto you. Though you’re going to be on their radar soon if you weren’t already. Heartbreak isn’t known as a telepath. Yet.

Arriving at Joes, you extend your awareness into the surrounding crowd. While there aren’t many people here, you need to be sure that no one means you any harm. Maybe you’re getting paranoid. Paranoia keeps you alive. It also kept you isolated from Julia. That’s a thought for later, this is now. You know the bar usually doesn’t cater to as popular villains as yourself, but you need to make a show for it. Mortum needs to believe you’re not some part of a Rangers plot - though that’s not entirely untrue now. She probably knows of Sidestep but doesn’t know Arya is Heartbreak.

You stride into the villain's entrance at Joes. The guards move swiftly out of your way. They haven’t had you here in this body, in this armor. Yet, they know you. You’re Heartbreak. Scourge of the Rangers, a danger to heroes and villains alike. But inside you’re nervous. Thankful for the mirrored helmet of Heartbreak, showing nothing of you underneath. 

You scan the room and notice Mortum sitting in the corner. She sees you. You’re hard to miss. The rest of the crowd parts way and you approach her table. 

“Good evening, Dr. Mortum.” You say, the voice modulator making you sound more like a comic book villain than ever before.

“Good evening, Madame Heartbreak.” Her voice is steely, but not hostile. She doesn’t appear to be armed. You curse softly, you’d said “she” over the phone. Oh well, too late now.

“I was hoping we could take this conversation somewhere private. Joes has a privacy room for these occasions.” 

“Very well, as long as there’s no second location.” She says this with a hint of a smile, but it’s predatory. It’s far different than anything she would give Eden.

You nod at Joe, who you know overheard you. He turns to a second door towards the right of the bar. It slides open and reveals a private cocktail room. You had called ahead while suiting up to make sure it was free.

Settling yourself down into a chair, you wait for the good doctor to seat herself across from you.

“Do you two want anything?” Joe looks nervous but maintains his composure in front of a big-time villain.

“Just a bottle of whiskey, the stuff Eden likes,” you say.

“Very good,” and he shuts the door; you hear the hiss of the locking as it becomes secure and soundproof. 

Mortum is watching you. Even though the dampeners are active in this room, you can see her processing. 

“So the suit is to your liking?” She finally breaks the silence. 

“Yes, it is everything and more.” You know there’s a lilt of sadness to your voice. This partnership might soon end. You’re not sure if the modulator masks it well or not. Apparently not as Mortum looks slightly less comfortable.

“So, the suit is not what brought us here then?” She sounds nervous but the doctor never was one to back down.

“No.” And you watch as Joe returns with the bottle and two glasses, bowing slightly before returning through the door. No more distractions. No more hesitations.

You reach up to flick the release mechanism of the helmet. It hisses slightly as it powers down. Your heart is racing, and you’re thankful she isn’t boosted. At least you don’t think she is. You hope she doesn’t know how anxious this is making you.

Taking the helmet off you fix your braid of silvery hair and drape it loosely over your shoulder. You can see your reflection on the mirrored helm. Your face angular and pale. Your eyes sharp, grey and tired. Your cheekbones high, with some moisture from the helmet. 

“Arya Svitkona.” Mortum whispers. You can see her running the numbers. Crunching the data.

“Dr. Mortum, I… I’m happy to meet you in person.” You’re not sure about this plan. If Mortum no longer wishes to work together, you’ll have to gather information on Heartbreak on your own. And you’ll lose a best friend. You need to remember what it’s like to be human because, until today, you were slipping.

“As am I, mon cherie.” She looks at you suspiciously. You suppose you never told her what this meeting was about.

“I… I’m not sure where to start on this.” Your mask slips; you should probably remain strong, but you feel tears. When did you become sappy?

“At the beginning?” She suggests, with a hint of a smile. Maybe a nervous smile, but a smile. Villains probably don’t break into tears around her often.

“Eden and I are… are the same.” You know that probably doesn’t clear anything up. You should have rehearsed this.

“What… what does that mean?” 

“I am an alpha-level telepath.” You begin. This shouldn’t be this hard. “And after my apparent death at Heartbreak,” pausing to smile at the name you chose for yourself, “I gained the ability to control bodies. But, usually, it’s difficult if they’re at all conscious or on guard. I found Eden in the hospital 3 years ago. She was in a coma and wasting away. I was able to save her body, but not her mind.” You pause. Mortum is enraptured. “And as a former hero, I can’t just walk around in this skin - you even knew my name. So I used Eden as a go-between.” And here comes the hard part. “But when I met you, I didn’t realize I’d find more than business associations. That I’d find a best friend.”

Mortum looks stunned for a moment. You had flirted with her at first but quickly broke that off when you realized what you felt for Julia. But Mortum and Eden had a close friendship.

“Well… that’s certainly something.” She looks upset for a moment but then looks back at you and asks, “Best friends don’t make the habit of lying to one another.” There it is. The betrayal. 

“I… being Sidestep, I couldn’t show myself in a bar like this. Not until I was established. And… and there’s another reason I used Eden. I wanted to feel human, just for a little bit. And not have to worry… worry about…” At this point, a sob racks your body. Just for a second before you calm yourself.

“Mon cherie?” She actually seems worried. Why is no one responding as they should today? First Julia now Mortum. Humans are odd. 

You press the release on your left glove. It hisses softly, like the helmet. Taking it off, you flex your fingers and then roll up the nanofiber mesh. Revealing the orange tattoos in the light.

“Oh…” Mortum is, again, speechless. You have a knack for it, you suppose.

“A cuckoo,” is all you can say. It’s pretty sufficient for an explanation.

“I need a moment.” She sits back and takes a large drink of her whiskey, downing three fingers in a single swallow.

You sit there. Staring at the woman who became a confidante. At the person with whom you shared many, many evenings with. Laughing. Existing. Being human.

"So you have been masquerading around in... in Eden, but instead I have been talking to you? To Arya?" She looks confused still, but not angry. Good. 

"Yes. And I told you I hated lying to you. The friendship we had was real. And I understand if you need time. Your friendship is more important to me than any business we have.” You pause for a moment, before pressing on.

“I had something to ask of you but this needed to be on the table first." You know the business with Heartbreak is important, but you also need to keep this friendship. For yourself as much as for the survival of Heartbreak's career. 

"I'll need a few days... but I think I'll be okay." She doesn't look angry. Mostly tired. "What was it that you needed?" You must have piqued her curiosity.

"I'm moving forward with my plans a little differently than I intended... and I need information on the Heartbreak incident." Your voice breaks at the end. It’s different when it’s your name. 

"On... Heartbreak... you know as well as I do, mon cherie, that it's been sealed and covered up. I suppose I don't get to know why this is needed?" Now is the time to test how far you're willing to go. You suppose you might as well be honest. 

"I'm going to convince the Rangers to join me in taking down the people responsible for the  Special Directive, those responsible for Heartbreak. Those who get away with oppression on a grand scale." Your anger breaks through. Fortifying your words. Good. You sound far more confident than the Arya from earlier. 

"That's... certainly a plan." She looks genuinely stunned."Very well. I will send you what I know when I get to my office. I knew about Sidestep’s— your death. So, I collected what I knew in case things were locked down. Which they were."

"Thank you. Seriously." You have no idea how to show your sincerity. "I will leave you to your thoughts then. Keep the bottle. I'll tell Joe to leave you be."

She's quiet for a moment while you put your helmet and glove back on. The world becomes safer as you slip into another mask. 

"Arya?" She sounds worried. You don’t turn around. "Please don't get yourself killed." And then she goes silent. Lost in thought. 

You hesitate for a moment before exiting into the main room. The crowd again parting for Heartbreak. You growl slightly at two men getting rough over the quantum slots. The modulator makes you sound effectively intimidating. You reach the parking lot without any further confrontations.

"Hey!" A voice behind you tears you from your thoughts. 

A well-dressed man with sharp features, maybe Asian inheritance, strides up to you. A little too quickly. Turning you raise to your full height, about a head over him. 

“Yes?” You try to act passive and uncaring, but you know Jake Manalo. And you know who he works for. Hollow Ground.

“I have a message for you from my boss.” You wonder what prompted this. Sure you’ve been causing issues. Stealing from her network. Umbral’s cash usually gets sent to her. Now, it’s dispersed amongst charities in Los Diabolos. You don’t think you’ve intentionally slighted her. Not yet, at least.

“What is it?” Act mysterious; you’re good at it. You did it for years as Sidestep. Julia is the only one who truly knows you. Well. Julia and Mortum. You see Mortum’s car pull out from behind the bar. The car sticks out in a place like this.

“A letter.” He reaches into his jacket pocket; you know he’s only reaching for a letter. Heartbreak’s telepathy remains a hidden and useful factor. Though you feign tension, anyway. Dramatic as always. 

You take the letter as he hands it to you. Your helm never leaves his line of sight, though your eyes flit to the letter. It simply says ‘Heartbreak.’

“Anything else?” You need to get going, but a personal message from Hollow Ground before you’re to meet with the Rangers - people who don’t even believe in the kingpin’s existence - is quite the luck.

“Just that they want you to remember your true allies.” He says this without a hint of irony or even a knowing look. His mind reads that he truly is delivering a message and doesn’t know exactly what or why. He may be the kingpin’s right-hand man, but he’s not in the know about this. It might be precautionary against unknown adversaries. Or maybe Hollow Ground knows you’re a telepath. 

Right now, however, you remain as though you’re not sure what he’s talking about. Because, truthfully, you’re not. You’ve yet to make any true allies besides Rosie and your other relationships are still rocky. Even if Julia loves you. And though you love her, your despair and isolation are creeping back. You need to get moving.

Without a response, you turn and redirect Manalo’s thoughts elsewhere. You know it worked when he’s distracted by a car horn. By the time he looks for you again, you’re gone. Telepathy makes for a good exit. 

Climbing into the van, Rosie gives you a strange look. You don’t remove your helmet this time. Too many eyes. Instead, you tell her to drive you to the Ranger HQ. It’s time to come clean.

You know you’ve kept the Rangers waiting for a while, which doesn’t make the best first impression. But you didn’t expect to be accosted by Hollow Ground’s lackey first.

After scanning the letter, you open it in the streetlights as the van speeds to the city center. 

Heartbreak,

I believe it is time we met in person. I have some interesting information for you.

Come alone. Tuesday at 9 P.M. 1343 East Coast View Dr. Los Diabolos.

Hollow Ground

Interesting. It’s not an address you recognize, but it’s also not commercial. It’s residential. And your HUD in your helmet tells you it’s a large villa overlooking the ocean. Further, she doesn't specify whether you are to wear your armor. You will, obviously, but it’s an odd omission. Purposeful? Likely. But why? Is it to draw you out and take you out? In street clothes you’re unknown. In armor, you’re a target. How the tables turn. You feel as though you’re the prey. No. That will not happen. When you’ve dealt with the Rangers, you’ll deal with this. You’ll have to figure it out quickly because tomorrow is Tuesday.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice your arrival at the HQ until Rosie rouses you. 

“Circle around back and let me out. Then find yourself a safe spot to wait until I call for you.” You know you sound more like a boss than a friend, but you know she would rather come with you.

“Boss— I don’t know if that’s—“ 

“Please, I don’t want you to get arrested or killed if they’re less than amenable to a partnership.” You know you’re not being entirely honest. The only person who could die tonight is you. And, still, that doesn’t really faze you.

“Okay, alright.” She acquiesces. She turns the vehicle and circles to an alley behind the building. Letting you out you check your surroundings and know no one is watching you. At least from outside the building. However, you know there are cameras on the corners of this building. Avoiding them until the last possible moment will be best. 

You quickly shoot Julia a message.

“Here. Wearing armor. Going to come in hot.”

An immediate response.

“Wait. What? No. Come in as Arya.”

But you’ve already made your decision. You’re coming in as Heartbreak. You hope Julia’s reasoning for gathering them was subtle. But you doubt it. Maybe they expect Arya and your sudden arrival will make your reveal a little more believable. Of course, why wouldn’t they believe it? The only two who might be still in the dark are Argent… and Daniel. Daniel is going to be tricky. Ask for forgiveness rather than for permission. You only pray that— BEEP.

A notification on your HUD startles you. Not Julia this time, but she did leave you a string of concerned messages, mixed with expletives. This is an email, from Mortum. How on earth did she get your private email? Another problem for another day. Those keep stacking up. The email has an attachment, simply “Heartbreak.” You don’t imagine it’s titled after your villainous identity. 

Taking a final deep breath, you aim your grappling hook, the Rat King helping check your surroundings for signs of trouble and cameras. It would be a poor plan if the Directive saw you breaking into the Rangers HQ. The hook launches. The building is far from the tallest in Los Diabolos but taller than the ones around it. Though it’s no more than a few floors. When you lost to Blaze, your hook went at least 5 floors. Lost. Hah. You never realized that was a loss till now. You let yourself go. Nearly worked, too. 

The hook finds purchase, you hear the whirring of the suit, and you’re tugged at such a rapid speed you feel your stomach get left behind. Launching six feet over the lip of the roof, your cape flutters around you. Dramatic as always. You find the entrance to the floor below and jimmy the lock. Time to enter the hornet’s nest.

Scanning the area around you, you note several things all at once. One, you were too caught up in your thoughts - stupid. Two, no alarms go off, and no dampeners flick on. Three, there are far more than the four Rangers here tonight. In total, you count six. Two of them are the last people you expected to be in attendance. 

You creep down the stairs, knowing from your time spent here that the meeting room is just below the roof - for quick access, you’re told. You overhear voices - talking about you, about Arya.

“Why did you call us here again, Ortega?” Argent is speaking. Her voice carried a lilt of impatience. But curiosity innundates it. 

“Because Arya has vital information to tell us,” Julia responds, sounding too worried for someone who’s talking about a former associate. 

Taking one last final breath, you redirect the attention of all six to the elevator on the opposite side of the room, furthest from the stairwell. It doesn’t make a sound, but when their attention is away from the table, you move. Dashing silently, you present yourself in front of the table and wait for the eyes to settle back on you. 

Time to face the consequences of your actions.

[toxicwasteempire]

The heroes need help.

This is not an exaggeration. Because of how the acquisition of powers work in universe, it's guarantee almost all heroes are either suicidal or former military (some in indentured servitude.)

We already know the boost drug is dangerous and it's more likely to kill you than give you powers. Only those truly desperate would try it. They may even use it to commit suicide because at least if it doesn't work they get cool powers and a way to change their life for the better. They likely come from poverty. (Sidestep was puzzled at why Herald took the drug while being good economically) At the end, they either are some degree of depressed or are terrible at risk assessment. (Terrible at risk assessment while having this job mind you)

In the case of military. It preys on young people, most of them from poverty or with an incomplete idea of the reality of the institution. They come out of it with PTSD and disabled, are given the mods to deal with those disabilities and in return they keep being useful for law enforcement. The government owns them in some way. Ortega is in indentured servitude because of the massive debt they would be in if they retire before outliving their usefulness.

Nevermind the fact the government can force them back overseas and make them disappear. (Like it happened to a certain someone after the Nanosurge.)

One extra way of gaining powers is the theory that they appear from incredible mental and physical stress on the body (and that this is how the boost drug works) the body's last ditch attempt at surviving. I believe this is what happened to Argent. Needless to say those who gain powers this way also have their share of PTSD.

I'm just saying. Beyond the fact that Los Diablos is a really fucked up place to live maybe this is why Sidestep said many heroes either die or hit rock bottom before retiring.

[autumnfangirler]

👀 mindscapes u say ?

the minute i saw this ask this popped into my brain

insanity will go under the cut :)

step being step, and them being telepaths, i always thought they had ways to protect their mindscape just in case something happened, so those are going to be added along with the actual descriptions of the mindscape! ill add a bit of what their thoughts sound/feel like because it goes hand in hand for me

Caine- their mindscape is a mix of both the farm and the rangers HQ, because those two were the most fomative places in caine learning what to do and how to be. for a long time they werent anything but a vessel for what others wanted. his mindscape will shift depending on what caine associates the person with the most(fun fact, ortega is more or less at the midway point between the farm and the rangers. it makes for,,, an interesting look to his mindscape). the only thing that doesnt change, though, is that it always feels strangely impersonal, like hes viewing his own mind in a third person perspective. their mind is firm yet adaptable, and while his shields arent,,,,the greatest, they dont need to be. he keeps track of the mental feel of anybody in their brain, and arranges something accordingly. whatever seems to be a particular persons weakpoint, hell pick up on and project. its difficult to find anything in their brain (that sounds like an insult but i Swear its not) since its bare of more personal objects or revealing factors. they use their observations and skill to make sure nobody can do much to their brain– just like a fight, find his opponents weakness and take advantage of it to win.

i always saw his thoughts as a mix of ortega and chens, most of them being short and clipped, but restless. hell often get lost in them, though hes always aware of whats going on around him. their imagination is surprisingly active, and they also come with a healthy dose of overthinking :D

Cyrus- i was mentally shaking your hand when you talked about cyrus mindscape. the core of his mind is exactly what you described; its a blaze, with near welding-torch focus towards its victims. youll be burned if you try to get close. but hes making sure nobody reaches that far. the surrounding area is a icy and cold, giving anybody inside absolutely nothing. hes laid tricks, of course: fading tracks in the snow, an odd rustle of bushes here or there, but mostly speaking its entirely barren. its a test of endurance, and hes depending on people failing from the environment before they can do any real damage. only the people who know him or are observant enough can figure out which way to go. as a little bonus tidbit: prehb cyrus' mindscape was a forest in midday, where the heat was just intense enough to feel it beating on your back. there are still remnants of that in his current mindscape, though the trees are fallen over and theres no sun to be found.

his thoughts are very final, for lack of better word. theres hardly room for doubt in them, though often times he'll ruminate on an idea to make sure everything is up to his satisfaction. despite the outer shell of his mindscape, his thoughts Do feel warm, but its more like friction burn

Cecilia- her mind is surprisingly open, and it is showy. its a museum, and when you enter theres a velvet carpet with those massive marble stairs in the middle and a beautiful chandelier overhead. every floor has paintings of things shes done, with the first few floors consisting entirely of her proudest moments, including the sidestep ones. im sure theres at least one painting of the nanosurge in there, she didnt like the fact that nobody knew she stopped it. there are some more quieter, but still happy memories when people go up, ones with ortega, argent, herald, and more. theres an uneasy feeling at about this point, though. the farther up they go, the stronger that feeling grows, to the point where the mental pressure could crush them completely. ceci doesnt need tricks like the other two do; she exercises power as her means of defense. its coupled with more disturbing paintings too, ones that depict things like the farm and the void. the lights get dimmer, theres less exhibits, and the final floor is just. empty. empty, and utterly lonely. what are you doing up here? theres nothing for you.

shes in the same boat as ortega, aka her thoughts Never shut up. shes creative and excitable, and its easy to get wrapped up in her thought processes. there doesnt tend to be repetition or circling, she doesnt stay on the same thought for very long.

Cynthia- you know the "you... are... lost in memories" line in rebirth? thats what cynthias mindscape is like. its a house thats an amalgamation of every home shes visited before: tia elenas, anathemas, and of course ortegas. it invites nostalgia. every object sends a person into memories, using the same system that nightmare loops do, but kinder. the memories are wrong, though. faces can get blurred, voices are distorted, and touch is especially difficult to get right. it can be disorienting to experience these loops, and they become nauseating if you spend too long in them. the house itself is a maze, and it feels like it goes on forever. none of the rooms repeat itself, but they cant be used as a marker either, because it never seems like you can go back to the same room you were in before. thats how cynthia protects herself– nothing is the same, everything is a trap, and when a person falls for it, she can safely extract them from her mind.

her thoughts are long, slow, and careful, and she often goes back to earlier thoughts to consider them further. her thoughts are twitchy too, theyre easily affected by her environment. theyre warm though, and i imagine feels like somebody reading a story to you

[citytogalaxy]

Sidestep stopped the nanosurge singlehandedly but wAS NEVER TOP TEN HEROES BY POPULARITY?????

[autistic-sidestep]

uh oh thinking abt cyranga again. TWO gay telepaths committing crimes and being the biggest headache known to man (one very exasperated marshal). ortega is also involved cos sura and cyrus are both (at least Aiming for) steelchargesteps in their own verses

first the only time they'd get along was when they were annoying chen, (then getting to gradually trust eachother and the peak of that being the nanosurge) but now sura's miraculously alive post-hb (and doing a shit job of pretending they didn't know that) and they're theyre getting on even better than before…

also @geek-o13 thought abt Mia interviewing Helios and Argos and they keep bantering off of each other and going off track

Mia: there's been some speculation about the nature of your relationship"

cyrus saying something like "[argos] is my partner in this hell hole" and suranga responding "wow, romantic"

cue the heligos fanclub going insane

+ the rangers having to do a press junket with more villain fridge headlines (and cos someone on the rangers pr team found the AO3 page of rangers rpf and panicked) and poor Chen is forced to give a speech that basically sums up to "please stop shipping us with villains."