#crackle cs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grahamcracklewho · 4 months ago

Text

01. RED ROGUE.

a Carmen Sandiego (2019) rewrite.

tw (for the entire series): murder, death, mild gore, angst, obsession, ableism. i will add onto this as i go on. this series is DEEPLY redcrackle but includes ocs and reworked versions of characters, canon events, and etc.

this is ch1. ask/comment to be tagged for ch2 and more.

YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW CARMEN SANDIEGO TO READ THIS.

(I made this as understandable as possible to newcomers).

prev. current (ch1). next.

Tall, dark pillars made up the entrance to the faculty room. Black Sheep stood in front of a pair of steel doors a thousand times larger than her, but she remained undeterred. This was it. For the last seventeen years, she had watched as students came and went. This time, it was her turn to be one of them. One of the greats. She only had to convince them that she was ready.

It was time to talk to the only family she’s ever known.

The doors opened. She took in a deep breath, and entered. Her every footstep reverberated through the room, which was dark and empty, like everything else on the isle. She raised her chin, and met the gazes of each and every person sitting at that table.

The faculty. They were the head honchos. The true masterminds behind the carefully crafted game that VILE played.

“Esteemed members of the faculty.” She could feel their states drilling into her; clawing out her flesh and bone to peer at her soul. “I requested this audience with you today for one reason, and one reason alone.” It was cold. All around her, there was a shivering, freezing, bitter cold. Here, in the stone heart of VILE, she was nothing to them. The people she had gotten to know like family were now no more than strangers. They couldn’t afford to see her as dear little Black Sheep in this room, and in turn, she couldn’t afford to see them as people she loved—lest, she be martyred.

She straightened her back.

“I want to be a part of the student roster for this year.” Her eyes met Coach Brunt’s. If only she could dig out a little warmth in all the cold, she’d be alright. If only…

“Black Sheep.” The frosty voice of Countess Cleo made Black Sheep’s gaze snap to her. The woman was tall and lean, dressed in a gown reminiscent of the luxury-brands Cookie herself would wear, and large, hooped earrings that simply drew attention. Then again, that was Cleo’s M.O. She thrived on being reputable and impressive, sitting on her high perch in the clouds.

“Yes, countess?” Black Sheep said, attempting to maintain the layer of politeness she had slathered onto her voice.

Countess Cleo frowned slightly, picking up on her faux tone. “What makes you think that you deserve to be treated differently from the rest of the students, hm? The minimum age to join VILE is eighteen. You are well aware of that, no?”

Black Sheep bit the inside of her cheek and managed a stiff nod when the countess looked directly at her, expectant.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The countess hummed. “Yes, you are. So, tell us, why would we make you our one exception?”

“I’m a good thief,” Black Sheep said immediately. “Better than most students VILE has. And, if I would just be taught—trained properly—I could be amazing. There’s nothing to lose. You could have a thieving genius on your hands, or, you could delay and stunt my potential. I think it’s obvious which choice is preferable for VILE.” She stopped, slowly pulling her hands behind her back when she noticed how wildly they had been waving. “So, that’s why.”

The faculty exchanged a silent glance. Horror coiled in her gut. They weren’t convinced. What if they said no? What if they decided that she wasn’t ready? That she never would be ready?

“A-and!” Black Sheep practically screamed, the stifling atmosphere coiling around her chest, squeezing, making it hard to breathe, “why would you choose someone… someone disabled over someone like me?” She started to dig around in her pockets, the fear mounting in her chest threatening to crush her completely; to grind her into a mess of blood and skin and bone when her fingers finally brushed against a familiar, sleek surface, and she yanked out the ID card she had stolen from Zicron months ago.

She swallowed thickly, glancing at the card before forcing herself to look away as she held it up into the air.

“I stole this,” she said, “from someone on the student roster.” She paused. “And they didn’t notice. I still have it now, months later. Doesn’t that say something? I have potential. I can do this.” Her fingers dug into her palm as she clenched her fist. “And you know I can.”

This time, the faculty looked at each other. And four of them smiled.

But one didn’t.

Coach Brunt looked… proud. Black Sheep turned her head away, afraid that she would start crying in front of the faculty.

Professor Maelstrom had been silent this entire time, simply watching. He was a pale, thin man, with a sharp, angular face that rarely ever appeared truly happy, but he wasn’t protesting.

Neither was Dr. Bellum, who was grinning wickedly, and though her goggles covered her eyes, Black Sheep would’ve been willing to bet that they would’ve been positively sparkling with a mad scientist-esque delight.

Even Countess Cleo wasn’t arguing. She didn’t look pleased, but she wasn’t arguing! That was progress.

But… then there was Shadowsan. He was VILE’s stealth instructor, but he was awfully loud when it came to his opinions. Black Sheep clenched her jaw and suppressed the urge to glare daggers at the disapproving look on this face.

“Black Sheep is not ready,” Shadowsan stated. “She is immature, petty, and childish. She stole from a fellow student, constantly pranks Ms. Booker, and runs around campus like a wild hog. We have an age requirement for a reason, and she does not meet it.” He intertwined his fingers together. “Black Sheep, if you are to pursue the path of a thief, you must be sure that this is what you want. Once you do this, there is no going back.”

Black Sheep fought off the scowl threatening to overtake her forced smile. “I am sure,” she said thinly. “In fact, I have never been more sure about something in my life. This is what I want.”

Professor Maelstrom cleared his throat. “We can settle this with a simple vote,” he said smoothly. “All in favor?”

Everyone raised their hands.

Except Shadowsan.

“Then that settles it!” Coach Brunt slammed her hands down onto the table. “You’re in!”

Black Sheep suddenly felt warm. That cold from before was washed away, and the fearsome heads of VILE were once again her family. Her loved ones. She couldn’t help the smile that burst across her face and the tears brimming at her eyes. Even the sound of Shadowsan’s chair dragging against the floor as he abruptly stood up and stalked away couldn’t ruin this moment.

She had done it.

“Give ma a hug, lambkins.” Black Sheep laughed as Coach Brunt brought her in for a tight hug, squeezing her. “I knew you could do it. You spoke so well! Even Cleo had to admit that you’ve matured.” The coach tapped her nose. “Of course, you still have that wild side, don’t you? Don’t let stuck-up snobs like Cleo and Cookie talk you down, love.”

Black Sheep nodded quickly, wriggling out of Coach Brunt’s hug to get a chance to breathe, though not without hugging her back first. “Never,” she promised, grinning. “Thanks so much.”

“That’s my girl.” Coach Brunt clapped her back. “Okay, go get some sleep now. Orientation’s early tomorrow. Don’t want ya falling asleep in the middle of it.”

Black Sheep doubted she’d be able to sleep at all, but she managed another nod. “Will do.”

I got in. With a gleeful smile, Black Sheep bounded out of the faculty room, almost failing to notice the albino standing by the door. Slowly, she came to a stop, a chill running down her spine. She looked back at Zicron, whose arms were crossed, and lips tightly pursed into a thin line.

“…Zicron,” she greeted quietly. He gave her a curt nod.

“Black Sheep,” he said dryly. “I now understand where my ID went.”

She rubbed the back of her neck, looking off to the side. “Yeah, uh… I’m sorry about that. I just… you know.” She shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t push her. “Had to make sure you were who you said you were. And stuff.”

“It’s alright.” His placid tone caught her off guard. “I understand. Once a thief, always a thief.” He turned his back to her. “Good luck, Black Sheep. I hope you get what you want from working for VILE.”

Black Sheep felt oddly put-off by that. His words were prickly, like a briar bush, its thorns glazed over with ice from frosty weather. Still, she brushed off the feeling and smiled smoothly. This was what she had been waiting for all her life. She wasn’t about to let someone that was practically a stranger to her ruin it all.

“I will,” she said. “I hope you get what you want, too.”

He had offered her some kind words. The least she could do was return them, even if she didn’t mean them.

Zicron let out a quiet laugh, making her frown slightly. “Oh, but of course,” he murmured. “Yes, I…” he laughed again, a little louder this time. “I will. Thank you for your… kind… words.” Without another word, he walked into the faculty room, and the heavy metal doors slammed shut behind him.

She raised a brow. He’s going to have his head bit off in there.

Still, Black Sheep couldn’t fully bring herself to be upset, or concerned on his behalf. Instead, she headed to her room: just a corridor away from Coach Brunt’s office. It used to be an old storage closet before it was converted to something livable. It was all thanks to Coach.

As she entered her bedroom, she smiled at the sight of the four Russian nesting dolls sitting on her windowsill. Their paint was chipped and a little smudged, but that was the inevitable result of being touched by time. They had been with her ever since she was a baby, after all… her only belongings in a world where they could slip away under her nose if she wasn’t careful.

Her fingers ghosted past the head of one, gently brushing past it. “I did it,” she whispered. Her heart swelled with warmth. If she knew her parents—her real, biological ones—surely, they would be celebrating this great day with her. She shut her eyes.

“I hope I made you proud.”

12 notes · View notes