Option C
Still proudly captaining the Cloneling ship and delivering smthg happier for them this time~ -w-
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Fic: "Option C" [FFN] [AO3]
Pairings/Characters: older!Jake's Evil Clone/Starling, OCs
Rating: T
Words: ~15,760
Additional info: romance, angst, friendship, AU, 3rd person POV
Summary: Jake's evil clone has been on the run for years, trying on new names, taking on new heroes. But some things never change, not really.
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"Watch me—I'm calling it now: I'll make this shot, fifty feet at least!"
He withdrew his eyes from the empty skies and joined in with the others as Laguna wound up a pitch and threw a firecracker. Given that Laguna had torn through their haul tonight, he wasn't that surprised when the firecracker sailed far beyond fifty feet and crested over the edge of roof of the warehouse they'd been occupying these last few weeks.
"Oh, snap!" Laguna exclaimed with wide eyes as the other villains whistled and laughed around him. The newest addition to their crew cringed and darted his squinty eyes to their leader right as the firecracker popped with a loud series of bangs down below on the street. "Uh, s-sorry, Riot."
"Riot"—not "Bad Jake," not "the clone," and not even "Chaos" for several years now. He'd gone by other things, but most knew him as "Riot" now, even though Jake Madden's clone still hadn't adapted to it fully. The clone got up from his makeshift throne of old crates and settled Laguna with an unimpressed stare. "Dude, did we not just have this talk the other day?"
Despite his casual words, his demeanor sent the others scooting away from the newbie, and Laguna ducked his head. "Ah, uh, y-yeah. Yes, Riot, sir, we did."
"Make all the mess you want—but don't be so obnoxious that you draw the heroes' attention directly to us. And don't call me 'sir.'"
Laguna nodded, smartly not trusting his mouth to keep him out of further trouble for the night. On the bright side, the kid had water powers, so he hustled to the building's edge and doused the mess below to cover up the evidence. The drawback? Every time Laguna used his powers, things smelled briny, just like a lagoon.
Well, could be worse, the clone thought as his stomach growled and he motioned to the crew that they were heading out for a snack run. Could be locked up still and mistaken for him.
He grimaced at the thought of Jake Madden but pushed all that aside and deep down. He needed to focus as he led the forty-foot drop down the fire escape and motioned to Viridian to fall in step with him, since they'd need her Night Vision in this part of the neighborhood.
Altogether, he had a small crew, but it was still six—ah, right, seven, counting Laguna as of this month—seven villains following him around, agreeing that he led a pretty cool life of villainy, or at least he was someone worth messing things up with. Some had come and gone (not that the clone cared), but most of who was with him now had stayed or came back more often than not.
Someone tripped over a trash bin on the way, causing an attention-catching ruckus a few yards behind the clone and Viridian. One of the others hissed, "Laguna…!" behind their mask, and the newbie squeaked out an apology.
The clone internally sighed. Viridian, who now slipped into the shadows behind a mom-and-pop store ahead, had been with him nearly from the beginning. This Laguna kid? He wasn't sure Laguna would still be with them until the end of the month, let alone the end of the summer.
Viridian's gray–green force field bubble appeared, the sign that her powers were activated and the getting was good. The clone motioned with two fingers over his shoulder for the rest to follow, and they slipped into the store, taking from the shelves whatever they wanted, seeing fine in the darkness and without fear of any security systems, all thanks to Viridian's power.
The clone grabbed a handful of powdered donuts, five mini treats to a plastic sleeve, and crammed one pocket of his jacket while debating with what to fill his other. Still odd to think he got so hungry now when, in the beginning, he didn't really get all that hungry. It was a change that didn't make sense to him, but—well, what did make sense, being someone's clone?
"Riot," Viridian spoke through her force field; her voice reverberated, coming through like static. "Something incoming. Time to scatter."
"Scatter" rippled through the crew like lightning. The older members dropped everything and sprinted. Laguna, confused, left with his arms full, scrambling for direction after Viridian, who tried to leave her force field up until the last possible second for the clone.
But he was the last one out. Everyone else had dispersed—every man for himself, as was the villain way—but he realized he probably had relied a bit too much on Viridian's Night Vision these last few months in this neighborhood, because suddenly he wasn't as sure about his escape routes on these poorly lit streets.
He was debating retracing his steps and just not stopping at the warehouse but going straight past it when she landed, a familiar multicolored, metallic streak, in front of him.
"Why am I not surprised?" she asked, tossing back her cape. The way her mask curved did an excellent job of zeroing in on her unimpressed expression.
"Starling," he huffed, still in fight-or-flight mode.
"Anarchy."
"Actually, it's 'Riot' now."
She blinked and touched her finger to her lips and chin as she paused. "Is it? Has it really been that long since we last crossed paths?"
He settled her with a dry look. "…no."
"But weren't you Riot a while back?"
The clone huffed a second time. "That—! I hadn't made up my mind yet." He frowned, ignoring the odd, fluttering pace of his pulse. Just because she'd kept track of his monikers and yet hadn't called him "Chaos," that was nothing to get excited over. He needed to focus. He had years of dealing with the public's favored princess hero under his belt. He could still go toe-to-toe with her, of that he was certain. "Aren't you a bit far from your comfort zone?"
Starling twisted her lips around at the little jab and quirked an eyebrow. "Centropolis isn't next door to Occam's Landing, no…but I've kept my ear out for reports of your ragtag band. The League doesn't have as big a presence here, and not a very good one, at that." She winced at her criticism of her fellow heroes.
But he snorted. "So, what? You're here to keep an eye on us?"
"On them…on you," Starling amended. She put her hand on her hip and motioned to his jacket's pockets with her chin. "Petty theft is a crime, Riot."
"Yeah, well, places don't hire villains or clones with no backgrounds. So even if I wanted to work—" He sneered. Every time she caught him in a crime, she always liked to point out the wrongdoing. As if telling him bad things were bad would make him turn good like her old boyfriend… Ugh, the mere idea gave him the jitters.
Starling heaved a sigh and tossed her braids over her shoulders as she widened her feet in a fighting stance. "We gonna do this then?"
"Thought you were gonna put me to sleep with another 'crime is bad' speech," the clone quipped. He shed his jacket and threw up his fists. Then, with a smirk, he egged her on.
Starling actually smirked back. She flung her arms back, her hands gripping the edges of her cape, and she dropped her arms in a circular motion—the precursor to her Velocity Force.
The clone had been caught up in her gusts several times before (not fun, 0/10, Would Not Recommend™), but he even though he'd gained some more human-like qualities over the years, he hadn't picked up any new superpowers, so super strength was still the only arrow in his quiver. He stomped hard, catapulting him forward, and he crashed down in front of Starling with a punch to the pavement right before her feet and, more importantly, before she could release her power.
Starling lost her footing and went sailing, but she stabilized in midair. Even from up there, her scowl was evident.
He laughed. At least while she was preoccupied with intermittent flapping, she couldn't freeze time. "Calling it a draw tonight or are you gonna come back down here for more?" he goaded with wide open arms in a "bring it on" gesture.
He didn't have long to debate her plans. She tucked her arms in, dive-bombing him like a bird of prey. He caught her in his arms, but the full force of gravity traveled with her, and they went tumbling through some of the rubble he'd just created, stopped by the thick, brick wall of the mom-and-pop store his crew had hit tonight.
She groaned and unfurled herself on the clone's lap. "Okay, maybe not the smartest of moves…"
He hissed where loose brick kept breaking away and clonking him in the back of the head. "Yeah, I hafta agree…" He winced—ah, some of the dust was in his right eye…!—and removed his mask to wipe at sweat and debris.
Starling stared at him with a pout before she stood. "You all right?" she asked as she held a hand out to him.
"I'll live," he answered, taking her hand. "We both know I've survived worse."
Her fingers tensed around his at that. But, instead of referencing that incident from nearly four years ago, Starling cleared her throat and offered him a tiny smile. She tipped her head in the direction some of his crew had run. "Calling it a draw," she conceded, "so you can tell the others to breathe easy tonight. But also: Tell the knucklehead playing with the fireworks that those are dangerous for everyone involved."
The clone rubbed his eye and blinked in the dim lighting. He put his mask back on and sighed. "Yeah, the newbie's…well, he's new."
Starling chuckled.
"What?"
She shook her head. "You know, for someone who used to be all about being the lone wolf, looking out only for himself…you're not a bad leader."
He rolled his eyes. "Didn't plan on it, and I hardly push them around. I'm not like that gasbag, Onyx, or Havoc and her family."
"No, but you look out for them." Starling glanced at the store, which, though it'd need some work, was still standing. Her brown eyes glittered when she looked back at the clone. "You were the first one in, Riot, and the last to leave."
Well, damn. Now that Starling pointed it out, he'd have to work on that. He noted she still had hold of him and pulled his hand away, more comfortable behind his usual smirk. "Well, you aren't perfect either, seeing as you often let me slip away."
Starling took a few steps back and rummaged through the rubble. She picked up his jacket, brushed off the dust, and tossed it to him. "All's fair, as they say."
He snickered and watched as Starling kicked off and hovered in the air, acting as sentry for the store. He shook his head and gave her a mock salute before donning his jacket and dashing off, cutting across the one back alley he'd noted on the way over. The night quieted down, and the clone doubled back twice before deciding that he had no tail and it was safe to make it back to the warehouse.
His crew greeted him inside, on the second floor, with claps, hoots, and hollers, and the clone took a dramatic bow, ending with a little flourish of his hands.
"No other hero encounters on the way back?" he asked them, locking eyes with each of them in turn.
His fellow villains shook their heads with confidence, even Laguna, though Viridian looked weary beside him. "And you, Riot? Leave Starling with a new shiner?" Viridian asked with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
The clone pulled a face at his number two, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Starling's nothing I can't handle, same as usual."
Viridian grimaced but left it alone. She flicked her goggles up into their resting position atop her pixie cut and herded the others, since it was time to call it a night.
Meanwhile, the clone replayed in his mind's eye his brief tussle with Starling. He shrugged it off, the fact that neither of them really came out on top these days. After all, she had him when it came to the aerial advantage, but his strength and sturdiness would always have the upper hand in fisticuffs or, say, hero vs. brick wall. And, though he wasn't in the business of saving heroes on the regular, he wasn't above counting that as Starling owing him one. "And that deserves a reward," he mumbled to himself as he headed upstairs to the old overseer's office, which he'd taken as his room when they'd landed this place a while back. The clone dropped into a beanbag chair he'd helped himself to from the open window of some bratty rich kid in Valley View, kicked off his boots, and stuffed his hands in his jacket's pockets.
And he dug around.
And around.
And around—no donuts. Sonuvabitch—!
"Starling…!" he snarled, ending the night with thoughts of that goody-two-shoes hero.
-----
Most nights were like that. In the daytime, though?
"Ai—oh." Viridian caught herself and cleared her throat when she joined him out on the front steps of the warehouse. "Ethan,'' she corrected with a nervous scratch of her cheek.
If the heroes hadn't figured out about the warehouse yet, then they had a harder time piecing things together if the villains weren't suited up all the time. At least, that'd been part of the clone's thought process. The League of Heroes had only ever referred to him as "Chaos," and the run-in with Starling two nights ago was a reminder of his donning newer mantles since escaping. But it still felt strange, adopting a civilian form, as well, and getting to choose a name without someone looking at him and calling him "Jake." He'd been unable to settle on "Aiden" or "Ethan," but at least it was easy to lose himself amongst what the heroes knowingly would've dubbed "the dregs of society." The dregs often were surprisingly as snarky as he was, and he preferred it that way.
Viridian cleared her throat again. "Some left, in the middle of the night, again."
He hummed in response. "Who?"
"Just two. Gardenia and Andromeda. I think hitting a small store like that got to Gardenia… I've overheard her several times, confiding in Andy about wanting her own flower shop, something small like that." Viridian squatted beside him and crossed her arms atop her knees. "My guess is Gardenia wants to try her luck, with or without her powers, and Andromeda wanted to stick by her side."
He shrugged. "As far as useful powers for the crew, we'll be stumbling around without Andy's star-guided sense of direction… But Gardenia's scent-based powers?" He pulled a face. "Yeah, we're gonna need to steal a case of deodorizer soon for this place."
She scrunched up her nose, an expression he caught out of the corner of his eye. "I'd start with tossing Gardenia's room first. Never made sense that she ran with us. She's too close to"—she shuddered—"being hero material. Or one of their sidekicks, at the least."
"You're too suspicious of others, Vera," the clone stated. He got to his feet, deciding now was as good as ever to begin memorizing the neighborhood with their reliance on Andromeda no longer an option. He hooked a left at the street corner and crossed feet away from the crosswalk.
Viridian jogged to keep up with him, since she was tiny, barely a few inches on Starling. "You call me 'suspicious' as if that's a bad thing," she growled at him under her breath. "But I'm just wary of us inviting the wrong crowd in. Sometimes I think you're not right in the head…"
He laughed. Viridian's bluntness was one reason they got on all right, he thought—not to mention her way with words reminded him of his own.
"…for going easy on that limelight lover, Starling," Viridian finished.
The clone's good humor died down. He came to a halt on the sidewalk in front of some dilapidated houses and turned around on his heel. Though his hands were in his jeans' pockets, all casual, he leaned forward, towering over his number two. "You think I go easy on Starling, Vera?"
She stared up at him, frozen on the spot, ever so slightly shaking when faced with the quick switch in his personality. Her lips parted, but she didn't utter even a sound.
"I dare you to do something about it," he added.
Still, Viridian said nothing.
He eased into a smirk as he backed off and resumed his walk. A step and a half later, he noted his footsteps had an echo; so, Viridian had fallen back in line. A little menacing always did the trick, he found, whenever the others (more often than not Viridian) questioned his to-and-fro with the League's darling young hero.
They'd made it a full block and the clone had clocked a boarded-up clock repair shop as a possible backup meeting place when Viridian's burner phone hummed in her pocket. She smacked him in the arm to get his attention and stop, and then she answered.
Spirit's ghostly voice came through on the line. "Viridian?! Hey! S.O.S."
"You've got me and Riot both—why S.O.S. on a day off?!"
"Ah, sorry, man—I know we're supposed to mix it up, keep a low profile some days, not go 'all in' on the villain thing the way Onyx used to run things. But there's a fire at that hobby store we hit this week, and I swear I saw Laguna's skinny ass runnin' around."
The clone dragged a hand across his face, cursing behind his palm in the process. "…shit. All right, use your power to divert attention and see if you can grab him—"
"Hey! I'm translucent, bro, not invisible! And I can still burn!"
"We're on the way," the clone ground out, and he motioned with a cutting gesture at his neck for Viridian to end the connection.
"But—shouldn't we duck back and change first?" Viridian asked as their jog turned into a brisk run.
"No time. Fire means emergency services, the only non-supers who tie heroes for arriving on scene." And, after just threatening Viridian, he didn't want to think about who might show up.
Even running at breakneck speed, the hobby store was still nearly ten minutes away. The sun shone brightly on them, but the temperature wasn't the cause for the sweat coating the clone's neck. No, the thought that heroes would arrive—that was always the biggest concern.
The sirens told them they were in the right place. Two bright red firetrucks barred the street, but thankfully nosy onlookers crowded the area around the vehicles. Given their normal streetwear, the clone and Viridian blended in well, so no one gave them a second glance as they wove their way through the crowd and reached the crowd's edge, where the crowd ended and the police barricade began.
Most of the cops had their attention on the core of the audience, nearest the engines, leaving an opening for the villain pair to slip through and between black-and-whites, to round the building where the hobby store took up the front façade. Around back, the door beside the dumpster cracked open just then, and a smoky form waved as he held it open for them.
"Didn't want in, eh?" the clone aimed at Spirit.
Spirit shrugged. "I'm not going in, but if you wanna burn to a crisp, then be my guest, bro."
The clone nodded at Viridian. "Vera?"
She shook her head. "I'm not in the rescue business!"
"No, but his getting caught spells trouble for us."
She glared at their leader. "…my Night Vision's almost useless in this situation."
"I'm not asking you to go into the fire with me. Just—cast as wide a net as you can. I'll root around for Laguna. And if either of you see anything—"
"Give you a head's up. Yeah, yeah," Viridian grumbled. At the door, Spirit gave him a thumb's up…or so the clone thought.
He gave Viridian a few seconds to shake her arms loose and concentrate. Then she closed her eyes and crept close to the door before creating her gray–green force field between her hands. The bubble kept expanding, and Viridian pushed it against the building.
"Go," she urged.
The clone listened. Inside, thanks to her power, he could see clearly into…what appeared to be a tailor shop and smelled stuffy and stale. He sneezed, froze, and kept moving when no one came at him over making noise. A door at the back of the small shop opened up to a narrow, concrete stairwell that led up partway, where things got hot.
Yep. He'd reached the hobby store.
He squinted in the sudden brightness of the store, and he ducked at the deafening roar and crackle of the fire as it lapped up each small row. The large fireworks were in the back and hadn't been hit yet but would be consumed any second now—how they hadn't ignited, the clone didn't know.
He resisted the urge to call out for their newbie and relied on the clear sight Viridian's power gave him. The counter with the till had split in half and was tinder right now… The row with joke candy had toppled over… He checked underneath, but there was no one trapped.
Had Spirit been mistaken? Or had Laguna escaped all on his own, just fine?
He had seconds to second-guess himself, as a telltale sizzle flared to life. The big fireworks.
"Scatter!" Viridian shouted through her force field.
The clone didn't know if that was because of his predicament or because heroes had arrived at last, but he dove for the door to the tailor shop. Things popped and went off with a BANG behind him, but he had seconds enough to scramble for the door and yank it open (damn, the handle scalded!), and he took the steps two at a time, even as a hot gust of air whooshed and closed the door behind him.
He hustled and emerged outside, nearly hurtling from the adrenaline and thanks to Spirit leaving the door open. The clone caught his breath—
—but Viridian and Spirit were gone.
And yet he wasn't alone.
He stood up straight and wiped sweat (and soot, huh) from his chin, never taking his eyes off her. "…this isn't your zone," he pointed out.
"And this isn't about me keeping an eye on you," Starling commented. She looked bedraggled herself, her uniform a little wrinkled, sweat making her face shiny, and…ah. Of course. Her magic circles were active around her wrists.
"I thought the fireworks should've gone off sooner."
"Things like this, they call me directly. Few heroes have temporal abilities, and fireworks go from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye."
He nodded; it would be the closest he'd come to saying "thanks." The clone hesitated, but he knew Starling, from his time in the League's company. Starling was all right to ask. "…did you rescue anyone in there?"
Starling shook her head. "Everyone was out when I arrived. I'm just here to mitigate damage. I didn't, however," she added with a huff as she took an extra step towards him, "expect extra work when something disrupted my hold on some of the objects inside. Or, should I say, someone."
He pursed his lips at that. "Sorry to be extra work," he growled with a glare.
"That's not what I—!" Starling grabbed his arm as he moved to walk past her. The second she did, though, her concentration broke, her magic circles vanished, and bigger noises went off behind them in the store. She cursed under her breath (how rare) and narrowed her eyes at the building, throwing up her free hand to cast one more spell. The din lessened, long enough that the fire hoses became the dominant sound, and Starling took a breath.
The clone tried to shrug her off. "You're not bringing me in this time, either, Starling, and you've got better things to do."
But when he tried to peel her fingers from his arm, Starling covered his hand with hers and stared up at him. "I just didn't expect you to be here, is all," she insisted. "Your brand of trouble isn't—well, this."
True, he wasn't keen on things that had the potential to get them killed. But he didn't know what to make of hearing those words out of Starling's mouth. "Stop looking for good where there isn't any," he mumbled.
She flinched, and he pulled free from her. But she recovered quickly, showing that camera-ready smile. "You say that, but your actions tell a different story. They did back in the day, and they still do now."
The clone gritted his teeth at the reference to his time in the League's hands. He was still trying to come up with a snappy retort when one of the first responders out front called out for Starling.
She gave the clone a smaller smile, one of her more genuine ones, and reached up to pat his lightly scruffy cheek. "Another time, then," Starling said by way of parting.
He glared at her back, watching until her cape and braids rounded the corner. And then he left in the opposite direction, far from curious cops and heroes that always left the clone feeling just a bit off-kilter….
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"Don't you think Starling's been showin' up a lot lately?"
All eyes shifted to Spirit on the second floor of the warehouse.
Suddenly feeling the heat, being on the spot, he mostly faded from view for several seconds, and all the clone and the others saw in their communal space was an outline of an eighteen-year-old guy in a t-shirt and cutoffs and worn combat boots too big for him. But then he took a breath, and his tanned face (as well as the rest of him) reappeared.
"Define 'a lot,'" Viridian said. She put her hand down from where she and the clone had been playing high-stakes poker (winner take all—Andromeda's left-behind electronics and the last two slices of pizza from lunch).
"Well… It's been about two weeks since we hit the hobby store and Laguna overdid it with firecrackers on the roof."
"HEY! I put everything out!"
"Ay, bro, chill. That's beside the point." Spirit ran a nervous hand over the back of his buzzed head and brought it forth with a wince. He glanced to the clone. "But… I mean, she's turned up nearly every other night, Ethan, man. Should we expect a raid?"
The question broke the spell of an easy late afternoon in their lair. Viridian grimaced at Spirit for asking, Laguna gaped openly with panic plain on his tiny features, and even Anubis shifted back into human form, forcing Labyrinth to give up on pulling the classic shaving cream prank on their no-longer-drowsy canine shifter ally.
"Not this Starling crap again," Anubis barked.
"There is no 'Starling crap'—" the clone began.
"Wait, what crap?" Labyrinth looked back and forth between the clone's gritted teeth and Anubis' icy stare. "I just thought Starling was Riot's archenemy, y'know. The way things go." They punctuated their remark with a shaky little shrug.
"'Archenemy' is a funny word for what he and Starling have," Anubis corrected them. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and jutted out his chin. "But I think I'll let him explain."
The clone stood up from the poker game and locked eyes with the other villain. "Nothing's changed with me and Starling. We cross paths. We fight. I escape."
But Anubis shook his head. The fury on his face reminded the clone of a riled-up dog ready to bare its teeth if not lunge. "That's what I was stupid enough to believe, when the League was hit, years ago. But first striking out with you and Vera? Seeing you encounter Starling after the League thought you were dead? And, time and again, she doesn't bring you back in?" He turned and put his fist through a nearby box of supplies; food went flying, but boxes underneath, full of loot taken from heroes and odds and ends to repair their own gear, tumbled free and spilled.
"That's her weakness, not mine," the clone replied. "And nobody's asking you to stay, Max."
Anubis visibly bristled. He clenched his fists at his sides, but then he pointed one angry finger at the clone and marched forward to jab it in his chest. "I've left before. And I returned. I left again, but I returned this time because I thought you would be different. I'd heard you'd finally left Centropolis, and I thought that meant you were ready to leave Starling behind. But the damn ghost is right—"
"Hey…!" Spirit feebly protested.
"—she is coming around too often for it to be a coincidence." Anubis pushed the clone. "And I won't be here for it. Whatever 'it' is."
A vein pulsed in the clone's neck. He pushed Anubis back, while he was still within reach.
Luckily for Anubis, he'd expected it, as this wasn't the first time he and the clone had faced off, even just to let off steam. Still, he was airborne for nearly ten feet and skidded for another five after that. When he landed, Anubis kept his eyes on the clone. But black skin shifted into black fur, and Anubis bolted in the blink of an eye.
For thirty seconds, dead silence settled over the warehouse. Then Labyrinth broke it, clearing their throat and asking, "Do we—Do we go after him?"
The clone shook his head. "You heard him. He comes and goes. If you feel the same way he does, then by all means." He narrowed his eyes at each of them and gave them a dark little smirk as he gestured to where Anubis had left. Then he sighed and took up his seat again opposite Viridian. "Otherwise, if you can manage to keep up with the one rule we have here, then you get to stay."
Again, dead silence.
But the clone preferred it to, say, having anyone (Viridian was a good bet) point out the irony of his one rule—"Don't get heroes involved"—when it seemed sure as hell that he had a hard time not breaking it himself.
-----
After Spirit's observation and Anubis' subsequent departure—well, they both only got more evidence proving their points.
Breaking into the marina that night to mess with some yachts and let Laguna practice more with his range of powers? Starling showed up half an hour into their fun.
Three days after that, hijacking the ice-cream truck in the middle of a heatwave? Yep, she arrived before Viridian could crash the vehicle into anything.
Two nights after that, catching wind of an underground fighting tournament? That'd been a two-man job, just the clone and Spirit, with Spirit going around picking pockets and the clone going a few rounds up in the cage just for fun…but he always had to dial back on the super strength when dealing with non-supers, so it wasn't exactly the kind of fun he wanted. That was, until the cops showed up to close down the party.
Spirit vanished, the slippery fellow he was, leaving the clone to figure his own way out. While most days, he disliked thoughts of Jake Madden's existence, tonight the clone begrudgingly admitted he was glad Jake was a tall and lanky dude; this physique which the clone shared made it easier to get past the thicker, heavier fighters.
But getting lost in the chaos (ugh) of would-be prizefighters and cops was easy. Bursting out into the muggy night air and feeling the prickles on the back of his neck rise, sensing the instant someone's eyes were on him—
Well, he was up for giving chase tonight, with all this adrenaline still rushing through his veins.
The clone tore through the cramped parking lot, hopping over cars and sliding across hoods a couple times before he made it to the break in the gate that he and Spirit had noticed when they'd arrived tonight. The clone lost a few precious seconds worming through, but he put power into his legs, pushing off the ground to recover his speed.
He and his tail made it to the empty park and covered half the partially lit green before the shadows alerted him that she was closing in. He ducked to the right just as Starling swooped down, causing her to veer left and land.
She did a double-take when she saw him in the nearby park light. "Riot?"
The clone pulled a face and motioned to his jeans and thin hoodie, which—ah, damn—had a bit of his last opponent's blood on the hem.
"Oh, uh, yeah," Starling said dumbly. Then she furrowed her brow and took two steps closer, putting him within reach. "Wait, not 'yeah'—suited up or not, what the hell were you doing there tonight?!"
"Do you want the answer which we both know you're not gonna like or would you like me to dress it up in sparkles?"
Starling held her head and put up a hand to stop him. "No, Ethan. But this time isn't all fun and games. The police have suspected this place for a while and brought me and another hero along in case of any villain presence… You were seen fleeing the scene. I've got to bring you in."
He tensed at the mention of another hero. "Done flying solo, Starling?"
"Not exactly. Captain Valor thought Jacque Frost could use more experience out in the field on joint assignments like this, and the cops took to him and his stupid ice puns." She rubbed her temple as she grumbled, but then she let her hands fall to her sides. When she met the clone's eyes, she was frowning.
Uh-oh.
Starling smiled for him. Sometimes, she even smirked for him. But it was never good if he got one of her rare frowns.
He swallowed a lump in his throat. "…it just had to be someone who might remember me from back then, huh?"
Her bright pink lips sank into an even deeper frown.
"Y'know, you're not the only one who's brought up the League incident from then lately," he huffed. The clone brought up his fists.
"Ri—Ethan, I don't want to fight you," Starling mumbled, quiet, just for him to hear.
"Then let me escape. I would've anyway, even if Onyx hadn't possessed his daughter back then and attacked. Playing dead, breaking out, vanishing—these are all in my wheelhouse, Star."
She chewed on her bottom lip and took another step. But it wasn't just that her body language wasn't battle-ready; that tension in her expression told him that she really wouldn't fight him tonight.
The clone narrowed his eyes, his hackles still raised. Things didn't feel like their first encounter, where she and the Maddens tricked him into being handed over to Valor, and it didn't feel like his time in the League's holding, where she tried to befriend him and the League hoped he had secrets to spill. No, this wasn't as dangerous…but it was different, nevertheless. It was different, and it had him lowering his fists and tentatively reaching for her.
Angry yelling from the lot behind where the fighting tournament had been held interrupted their quiet. "You've gotta get going," Starling said, panic leaking into her tone.
The clone tore his eyes from the distraction and fixed them back on her. "Now you agree—?!"
"I'm gonna give you a little help," she added with a firm look. Then next thing he knew, she had her left arm swinging in an arc, and a weaker Velocity Force churned out a gust that lifted his feet off the grass and had him sailing above the rest of the park.
He landed gently in the middle of the empty street and paused long enough to look back.
No one—not even the public's favorite hero—followed.
The clone took off running, not slowing for nearly fifteen minutes. When he did, he recognized the neighborhood and knew he was only two blocks from the warehouse. That was when he slowed to catch his breath…and to catch a glimpse of his hand, wondering what else he might've done if he had followed through and reached out for Starling.
-----
He didn't like to admit to being wrong. He would never admit to being wrong.
…but there was some veracity in the grumblings of his crew. Starling was around a lot, and she was on his mind a lot.
The clone worried for a hot minute when he and his fellow villains got away with their shenanigans for four days straight after the fighting tournament fiasco. All right, so there were a couple of no-name heroes who tried to interrupt them, but they didn't count.
It only mattered if Starling showed up.
He stayed up late that fourth night, replaying the last time they'd spoken in his head. She'd said it'd been that jerk, Jacque Frost, with her that night, right? Yeah, the clone recalled giving him a good smack during his stay at the League…but…if Starling had been caught helping him escape…
Well, he knew what had happened to her the first time the League of Heroes discovered her fondness for a villain. He didn't want to think about what might happen if she repeated history.
Yet it was that same history that dwelled on his mind and had the clone walking the streets well past midnight. He remained in his villain gear, but the activity of the last few days and Starling's sudden absence killed his interest to stir up new mischief at the moment. Instead, he slipped into the shadows and scaled a couple of the newer office buildings that had gone up recently, all to expend this anxious energy building up and plucking at his muscles and nerves like piano wires.
The first building was a simple feat, only seven stories. But the second one was a decent fifteen, enough to make him break a sweat. And, when he reached the top, he got to kick back in the shadow of a gigantic billboard of—
Huh. Not Starling. Well, that was a first.
The clone craned his neck and got an eyeful of the sun-crowned blonde promoting haircare products with her pearly whites on display. "Who the hell is Solis?"
"She's Lumina's daughter," Starling answered, landing atop the roof near the opposite edge of the advertisement.
He jolted slightly at her arrival, but he didn't even know why he was surprised by her sudden appearances anymore. Playing it cool, the clone continued, "Doesn't explain her nightmare-inducing grin on this thing."
"It's her new shampoo ad." Starling closed the distance and stared up at it with him. "…yeah, it's not the most flattering image, up close. But it's a good shot, from afar."
"I thought your face was everywhere still."
Starling shrugged. "Things change."
Well, that was hardly an answer. He quirked an eyebrow at her and started to slide into a defensive position.
Starling settled him with a dry look. But, behind that look, he saw real weariness. The light from the billboard wasn't casting the shadows under her eyes.
The clone eased up. "Not tonight either, huh? Not bringing me in? Not even up for a brief tiff?"
"No."
He was tempted to ask what had happened after he left after the tournament roundup. Instead, the clone turned away from the ad and teased, "Ah, because you've finally realized the futility in being a hero?"
There was a split-second hesitation before Starling corrected him. "No." She walked away from the billboard and kicked out of reach a can of spray paint before he could pick it up. "It's because I know how I fare against that Chaos-brand of super strength."
He huffed and straightened up, tossing aside graffiti dreams for Solis' ad. "I'm not Chaos."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. It's 'Riot' these days, right?"
He knew she knew. She knew all his pseudonyms and taken names, and he wouldn't be surprised if Starling actually knew precisely where he'd been staying in Occam's Landing these last several months. She was exceptional at keeping things straight, but staying on top of all the little details pertaining to him—it were almost as though she were trying to make up for the League incident and its immediate aftermath.
They walked together…two feet apart, but together…away from the billboard, and they rounded the door access structure. The clone leaned back against the concrete to the left of the door and slid down until he sat with his knees in front of him, his arms resting on them. A minute later, just over a foot away on the door's right side, Starling joined him.
Here, it was darker. Here, the blazing light from that ridiculous ad made deep shadows with the door access and the air shaft yards away from where they sat. Here, it was easier to look up at the sky, to stare at the stars, and to let their minds wander…and he was certain that Starling's mind, just as she went with him, wandered with his, back to that day almost four years ago.
Those had been different days. Then, he'd taken "Chaos" for himself since Jake had given up that mantle, the villain lifestyle, to be a regular do-gooder. Then, the League truly thought they'd at least captured one member of that villain family. Then, Starling talked to him, initially on Valor's orders, but eventually of her own volition (half out of guilt, the clone always thought).
He'd sat as their prisoner for two years…because what else was there to do? The League of Heroes put villains in their place and occasionally rounded them up. They also, as the clone would come to learn, made threats of their own, if they didn't like how you behaved…
The clone glanced at Starling, his eyes lingering on her profile. Sometimes, threats were enough.
She'd been the only one kind to him in his time in the League's "care," which was a bleak, monotonous existence. It'd been boring, mostly, but sometimes it was fun, getting the heroes' goats or teasing Starling, whether over her affection for Jake or over her blind faith in heroics.
The fun and the monotony came to end, though, when an Onyx-possessed Shadow stormed the League.
Reports covered what little the public would learn in the aftermath: Supervillain Onyx had returned, his daughter had allowed her father to possess her to execute this dangerous plan, and it had been a direct assault on the League of Heroes.
…but the clone had learned more after barely surviving.
He grimaced now, because even thinking of Shadow's motives still annoyed the hell out of him. Everything always, always came back to the freaking Maddens, because who had Shadow wanted to frame for the plot? The Maddens. She'd gone straight for the Madden family ally, too, Starling, hoping to take her out in the process as well as at least one member of the family.
The clone did give Shadow (or would that be Onyx? hmm) credit, though, for originality. The heroes always expected an attack on them or a jailbreak…but they never expected anyone just to attack the prison cells without freedom in mind.
Shadow—Onyx—might've attacked the cells, but the heroes had put the clone and other villains there in the first place, left alone like sitting ducks. All those that hadn't survived? Their deaths weren't just the fault of villains.
No.
The heroes had blood on their hands, too.
The clone removed his mask and held it in his hands for a moment before gazing blankly up at the night sky. It wasn't the same mask he'd worn as Chaos. Same as his names, he'd gotten to form something new when he met Viridian and Anubis in that rubble that day, when he saw the chance to let the League…and even Starling, for a brief time…believe he was one of the dead and no longer their problem.
He glanced again at her, surprised to see she'd also removed her mask. Interesting. Aside from that time she'd been her civilian self in Valley View, he'd only ever gotten to see her as Starling. He'd long ago assumed she wore her uniform like armor, protective and never out of place.
His gaze must've lingered longer this time, though, because she turned and gave him a soft, curious smile before he was aware of himself. The clone averted his eyes.
After a few more minutes, Starling loosed a long breath. "Thank you, Riot," she said as she readjusted her mask.
He got to his feet with her. "For what?"
"For tonight's stargazing break." Starling tilted her head at the night sky while pointing back at the billboard in comparison. "A much better view before I head home and hit the hay."
He couldn't help but snicker at Starling's diss. He put his mask back on and watched her hover in the air, ready to leave. "Catch you another time, then," the clone teased, since catching seemed to be the one thing they both sucked at.
Starling caught on to his joke, as her left eyebrow rose high and vanished completely underneath her silver mask. But she stunningly smirked in reply, amused, and then Starling turned west towards Centropolis.
But, the clone noted with a smirk of his own as he punched a dent on Solis' gigantic face and headed home himself, Starling hadn't turned him down.
-----
"COME AT ME, BRO!"
Well, the clone thought with a shrug as he noted out of the corner of his eye that Viridian and the rest were preoccupied, since he insists.
The brick-chested hero in front of him egged the clone on, beckoning to him with open hands and a dumb, gaping expression.
The clone wasn't fond of running into brick walls head-first…or even being flung into them, backwards. But at least this hero seemed only semi-made of hard material and, in the clone's experience, hard material would break eventually if hit enough times.
The hero stood his ground, taking the brunt of the clone's punches aimed at his core and crossing his arms to protect his face. He began to slide backwards, bit by bit, as his stance weakened under the assault, especially when the clone sprinkled in the odd kick here and there.
Once this low-level brick dude fell to one knee, the clone spared another glance to his crew.
Laguna panted, hard, and wiped some sweat from his face. But Spirit and Viridian high-fived, and Labyrinth shot the clone double thumbs up. Labyrinth cocked their head at the fast-food restaurant next door to the store they'd chosen to visit after hours tonight.
The clone smirked and shook his head. Labyrinth's powers never lasted for long, but that other low-level hero could stand to be lost in the restaurant-turned-maze for twenty-ish minutes.
The brick-chested hero growled at the clone, drawing his attention back to the matter at hand. The hero stood, one beefy, booted foot after the other, and sneered at him. "Only knows how to punch…no tactics…"
The clone rolled his eyes and waved his crew off, though Viridian already was ushering their fellow villains away from here, giving the clone plenty of room to face off against his own opponent. "Who need tactics when fists get the job done?" he taunted.
"…spoken just like another villain with strength as his only weapon… You remind me of him, too, that kid, Chaos…"
A split second. That was all it took to change his mood from being in the groove to seeing red, from having just another night where he felt like a villain in his own right to being reminded how he existed in the first place.
In a split second, perhaps the brick-chested hero realized his mistake, too, at least in comparing villains, since it was unlikely he knew the truth. But the clone saw it, saw the way his dopey eyes widened when the clone jumped and crashed down on him, fists flying so fast he couldn't see or block.
And, when the hero barely breathed against the pavement but didn't react to the clone getting off him, it took only a split second for the clone to come to his senses, to pick up on that familiar sensation he would've felt sooner, if he hadn't been blinded by his rage.
The sensation of eyes on him.
He spun around. His crew was gone, Brick Face wasn't getting up anytime soon, and Brick Face's partner hadn't emerged from Labyrinth's trick yet. So the clone turned the opposite direction, searching the shadows by the manmade tree line on the other side of the store they'd pilfered.
Starling stepped forward and, much as she had the night of the fighting tournament, wore a frown.
The clone glanced between the unconscious hero and Starling—and he slid into an offensive stance.
It didn't matter that they'd had a chummy night together. It didn't matter that Starling kept showing up and kept their weird game of cat-and-mouse…their ruse…going.
Broken laws were one thing. Broken bones—and witnessing them, at that—had to strain whatever truce he and Starling had. There was no possible way that truce could remain intact now.
"Bastion's not the brightest, but he's one of our toughest," Starling remarked, peeking at her fellow hero. A beat later, her eyes were on the clone's.
"You're not bringing me in," he muttered, his words carrying a harder edge than they usually did when he spoke with her.
Her frown didn't waver. She left the sidelines behind and took even steps towards him.
He debated his plan of attack…and just as quickly lost his train of thought, faced with the possibility of having to fight Starling for real, faced with Viridian's and Spirit's and Anubis' concerns, faced with the reality that—after all this time—everything was finally coming to a head. And all he, the big bad villain, could do was glare at his hero.
Starling came closer than arm's reach and peered up at him. The next second, her arms were under his, and they were up in the night air.
"What the—?!"
"Oh, hush. And stop thrashing. I'm good at carrying a passenger while flying, but I can't promise I won't drop you if you keep on that way."
He stopped and, absent a better place for his limbs, rested his arms around her shoulders. Having calmed down, the clone squinted at the city below and realized she wasn't only putting the scene of the crime but most of Occam's Landing far behind them. They were near the city limits, actually a hundred feet from the "Welcome" sign, when Starling slowed and lowered them to the soft grass a bit from the main drag leading in.
She took a large breath and nodded to herself. "I think it's safe to talk here."
The clone took in their sparse surroundings and spun around to face her. "About what? What we just left behind?"
She gave him the tiniest, briefest glare. "He'll be fine. Bastion will recover after a few days in the infirmary."
He paused. "He…doesn't know, does he?"
Starling shook her head. "I overheard him, too, Riot. It really was just a comparison. No one in the League thinks 'Chaos' made it out from the incident." She winced and added, "I've seen internal files… The villain believed to be Chaos is marked 'deceased' in our records."
He heaved a stuttered sigh.
Well.
That…was that then, huh? He'd put "Chaos" to bed a long time ago, but Starling delivering these extra tidbits rather cemented the idea in his head at last.
"Riot."
Ah, right. He'd been answering to "Riot" for a while now…and, maybe, maybe he felt it was the name that finally fit, or maybe the timing was right, putting the past to bed now. "What?" he asked, shoving his mask into his pocket and pinching the bridge of his nose, because all these surprises tonight were bringing on a migraine.
"I didn't bring you out here to discuss Bastion."
The clone—no, Riot (yeah…yeah, it worked)—picked his head up and gestured to the wide open. "Don't tell me there's an ambush waiting for me in the literal bushes?"
Starling fiddled with the edge of her cape, kneading the hem between her index fingers and thumbs. "Look, I… You're not gonna see me much after this."
His hands fell to his sides and he narrowed his eyes at her.
"I'm taking a brief—hiatus, of sorts."
He wasn't stupid. Still, her wording and fidgeting left him confused. "Like a vacation?"
"Kinda?" Her frown returned, but it was smaller, even as she took a step towards him. Starling hesitated, careful not to step on a tiny wildflower as she continued, "The timing's…off, but my popularity's been waning a lot the past two years."
Riot grimaced as the memory of Solis' haircare ad came to mind. "They replaced you," he inferred.
"Well, I switched up my style to braids, and some people have opinions," she grumbled with a quick hand through her hair. Starling cleared her throat. "My schedule's lightened up a lot, and the League's permitting me to, well, to pursue any other interests before I commit fulltime to hero duties."
He furrowed his brow as he read between the lines. "So you'll be gone?" Riot faced her. "For how long?"
"I haven't decided yet. I mean, at this point in our lives, normal people are wrapping up college. And I haven't…"
Any other time, he would seize the opportunity to make a quip the way he used to make during their chats at the League, about his technically only being a few years old as a clone. But the implicit reminder of his origin connected the final dots for Riot, and he instantly knew where her train of thought led. He swallowed an annoyed lump in his throat before asking, "He's almost done with his college studies, isn't he?"
Neither of them needed to say Jake's name. But Starling nodded.
He rolled his eyes and turned away from her, scoffing.
Starling caught his upper arm. "…don't be like that, Ethan. It's not just him, but Amy and Hartley, too. They're— They're the closest I've ever come to having friends."
Crickets chirped as Starling's words sank into the nighttime. And, loath though he was to admit it, Riot could see her point.
Starling was always on her own. Having to part from Jake had mostly left her out of touch with those she cared about, and the Jake–clone switcheroo (truly, her falling for a villain in the first place) had left her set apart from her fellow heroes. Even after the Shadow incident at the League, still she was on her own, then and all these years after.
Riot knew about being on his own, the freedom he felt when first escaping the Maddens and causing mayhem around Valley View. And he'd known about being on his own, too, being in a cell all to himself at the League. …and, after the incident, even with a crew that grew or shrunk from week to week, he still was on his own, the only clone in a group of villains.
But there was a key difference in Starling being on her own compared to his, and he saw it even now, and it reminded Riot of some of Starling's more stressful days when she used to come to his cell and simply use him as a sounding board, content with his silent company: Now, same as then, under the weight of juggling too much all at once…Starling somehow managed to brighten up. And she brightened up around him, her smile small and a little weary but her eyes glittering when she looked at him.
It was what strengthened his resolve, which even Riot barely parsed together before his mouth got ahead of him. "Fine, then. Before you make your decision, take a vacation. From being a hero."
Those glittering eyes widened. "You can't actually think I'd become a v—"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes; of course he knew Starling wouldn't turn, herself. But Riot met her eyes and took hold of the hand on his arm. He bent down a little, leaning in, lowering his volume. "One week. Or weekend, whatever. No Starling and Riot. Just Judith and Ethan. Make your decision after."
For all her hesitations and careful reactions these past few weeks, Starling didn't hesitate to squeeze his hand back, now. "…four days," she compromised. She bit her bottom lip, tempering the excitement behind her smile. "We'll give it a long weekend."
Four days. Four days she'd missed before, and four days she promised now. He smirked, amused as ever by how her mind worked and schemed. "Four days, it is."
-----
The next morning, the hero Starling and the villain Riot (formerly known to some as "Anarchy"—and by no other mantles, absolutely not) disappeared from the public eye.
Riot exited the warehouse unhindered. He knew the others' general routines well, so leaving the warehouse on his own wasn't an issue. Laguna and Labyrinth were still asleep, having stayed up gaming during the night, and Spirit, if awake, would have headphones on and a book cracked open, waiting for someone else to be the "first" one up. As for Viridian, she would be halfway through her morning run, so.
It was now or never.
He'd meant what he'd said to Starling, about leaving their powered selves behind. He left his villain gear behind, dressed in casual clothes, looking like any other teen with a taste for the color black.
He set out from the warehouse, taking a left from the corner on which the building sat. It struck him as funny, that this same casual stroll he previously took with Viridian went by faster now, on his own and with a destination in mind.
The biggest difference between that day of the hobby store fire and today was that Riot didn't make it a full block away. No, instead, he jaywalked when the familiar, hand-painted timepiece sign came into view. Had the dilapidated repair shop's sign been sturdy and attached to the storefront still, he might've hopped up and smacked it just for shits and giggles. But, nah, it wasn't worth it, with the sign barely hanging on by an old wire; the noise would undoubtedly draw attention on a morning they didn't need any.
He rounded the small shop's entrance, finding Starling waiting in the alley between it and the record shop that wouldn't open for another three hours. Riot smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "When I first thought of this as a possible regroup point, I never imagined I'd be meeting up with you here."
A small smile toyed with her pursed lips, but Starling fought it back as she kicked off from where she leaned against the clock repair shop. "You're not alone. I never imagined a lot of things with you before." She raised her eyebrows, as if adding, But times certainly have changed.
Riot paused, tempted by the obvious soliloquy there. But the quiet hum of traffic coming to life on surrounding streets, of the rest of the block waking, set him straight. He turned and let Starling pass him onto the main street. "First order of business?"
Starling snickered and pointed to a bus sign as he fell into step with her. "Getting out of here."
"Not slumming it around Occam's Landing?"
"No. No Occam's, no Centropolis, no Valley View." Starling edged away from the curb and closer to him. "If this vacation is gonna be a proper vacation, then we're heading somewhere where maybe they haven't even heard of Starling."
Riot shrugged. Shedding an old identity—yeah, he knew that need well.
Starling practically marched on their way to the bus stop, but he figured out how she knew the way fast enough. She kept checking the map and schedule on her phone every two minutes, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief when they reached the stop ahead of the bus.
"This bus that important?" he asked as he ducked under the shade of the stop.
"Yeah. The next non-local one heading east isn't for another twelve hours." Starling poked him playfully in the chest. "Don't want to waste the first day."
He pouted and rubbed the spot. Then he jerked his chin at her phone. "Isn't that gonna be a problem? Doesn't the League keep tabs on all its heroes or something?"
"First, that's a myth. And second…just in case, this isn't my main phone. But it's got anything we might need while away; I made sure of it."
He rolled his eyes. It was moot to mention to a hero that anything they needed could be procured with a five-finger discount.
Starling hummed to herself, a strange ball of nervous energy as she rocked on her feet and kept watch for the bus. Her nerves quieted, though, when the bus's horn sounded before the vehicle crested the hill, and she grabbed Riot's hand in her excitement.
The driver slowed and the bus rolled to a stop. The doors parted, and Starling tugged her lazy companion behind her, tapping the app on her phone to the bus's payment system twice before pulling Riot along with her as she looked for open seats.
They passed a handful and kept going, and he was about to open his mouth when that familiar sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Riot whipped his head to the right.
A pair of middle-aged women averted their eyes and stopped whispering the moment he did. But the one by the window also seemed to squint at Starling before shaking her head at her friend.
Riot put his hands on Starling's shoulders and ushered her a bit faster towards the back of the bus, which was mostly empty. Since she didn't protest and took the window seat, he concluded she'd sensed the scrutiny, too. "Think they recognized you?" he asked in a low voice after the bus resumed its trek.
Starling frowned and glanced at her own reflection in the window's glass. "…not sure. It doesn't help that my mask doesn't hide much of my face," she replied softly.
"Sounds like a memo for your rebranding team."
She glared at him in the reflection. But her hand found its way back to his. It shook for the briefest moment until she threaded their fingers. Then she focused on keeping her eyes trained on the colorful scenery that passed them by outside the window.
-----
The bus ride improved the longer they stayed on. The too-curious women disembarked two stops after Riot and Starling boarded, and only the rare glance came their way once each at the two stops after that. And after? People stopped looking altogether.
The earlier tension now broken, Starling slouched in her seat and let her eyes drift close. She started out leaning against the window, but she switched to Riot's shoulder after a bump in the road about a hundred miles out disrupted her nap.
Riot peered down at her, trying to reconcile their first days—him, not engaging when Valor wanted her to coax information from him, and her actually trying to befriend him even knowing he wasn't Jake—with…well, with now. Was this yet another change, another oddity of growing up a clone that Kraniac hadn't mentioned to any of them? At the start, he hadn't needed food or water; nowadays, his stomach rumbled and he thirsted like anyone else. In the beginning, he'd go all out against any hero, but now here he was, running away with one of the most famous ones.
Starling stirred, picking her head up and yawning. She stretched her arms and then smoothed the front of her lilac-colored t-shirt. "Oh, jeez. How long have I been out?"
"Long enough to soak my shoulder in drool," he quipped, glad for the distraction from his thoughts.
She reddened, glanced at his shirt, and then knocked his shoulder. "Did not. Ugh!" Starling peeked out the window and pulled up another map on her phone. "Looks as though I woke up on time. Next stop's ours."
Riot wondered if this destination had any special meaning, but he didn't ask. Five minutes later, the bus arrived at a hub, and they got off with most of the other current passengers.
Starling basked in the sunlight and turned her warmed smile his way while other people flowed around them.
He shook his head, though he smirked a little at her unserious behavior. He blinked, however, and saw her smile fade. "What?"
She neared him and they left the hub, hustling past the fast-food signs promising quick eats inside for drivers and riders alike, hopping over a broken bit of sidewalk as Starling looked left and right. "More gawkers. I just—I don't like the feeling of not being able to catch my breath as myself, and I thought I could, out here."
Riot groaned. "You're still thinking like a hero," he warned in a low voice.
"How?"
"Thinking you can lose yourself in a sea of people. You, Miss Bigshot, don't have that luxury." Riot led them behind the hub, where they could walk parallel to the highway but in shade. And, if he were right, the highway would fall away and they would reach this city via lesser-used paths. "It's different right now. Right now, you've got to stick to off-the-beaten-path places where people are a lot less likely to pick you out of the crowd."
Starling huffed. "This isn't as easy as I thought it'd be."
Riot looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Playing by the rules? Of course not. But you're taking a break from being a hero. You've still got superpowers, and no one said you couldn't use those."
She pulled a face. "Because flying away from curious gawkers totally wouldn't confirm who I am to them."
He smirked. "It's that or I carry you."
She shoved his shoulder and poured on the speed. "How about only in a true emergency? And absolutely only then, Ethan.
He laughed.
Their trek down from the hub into the city took a while without relying on their powers. Close to twenty minutes later, they reached sounds of civilization, but it was less nosy people like at the hub and more run-of-the-mill average Joes going about their daily lives. This time, if they cast a second glance Riot's and Starling's way, it was likelier because Riot bumped into someone and didn't give a damn about apologizing (though Starling did on his behalf anyway).
Starling found a food truck via web search, although Riot was certain his nose could've led the way, and they had a late breakfast of eggs-and-everything burritos. A second truck nearby had funnel cake, and she bit her lip.
"I haven't had funnel cake since I was kid," she mused aloud.
Riot followed her longing gaze to the truck. "Time to fix that." He ordered, but, same as with the burrito truck, Starling insisted she had to pay for their food (after all, she reminded him, he was taking a break from being a villain same as she was taking a break from being a hero).
They pulled apart the cake, which turned out to be a delectable mess doused in powdered sugar—powdered donuts had nothing on funnel cake—as they got lost amongst the hustle and bustle around them, letting the tide of locals pull them along, seeing where they'd end up for the rest of the day. And, funnily enough, Starling seemed…content with this ebb and flow. If she had anywhere she wanted to go, anything she wanted to do, she didn't say. Mostly she marinated in the new vibes, taking it all in, window-shopping a little, and snapping pictures—of the sights, a few of herself, and a surprise one of Riot.
He grimaced after being caught off-guard. "You sure it's wise, keeping photographic evidence of a supposedly dead villain?"
Starling gave him a tiny shrug while she scrolled through the photos. "It's just for a few days. I'll delete your pic later, promise."
Riot quirked his lips at that. But, he supposed, if it were only for a few days…only for Starling, he supposed he could deal, especially since he got to see her relaxed, brightening up around him again.
-----
Lunch was fast food, but their summer day had flown by at a stunningly brisk pace, and evening warned of night with a gorgeous red–orange sunset.
Starling debated booking a pair of rooms at some sleazy-looking motel even a villain didn't trust (and he even said as much). In contrast, Riot rolled his eyes and tugged her by the hand until they found their way to the edge of the suburbs here. Her eyes widened. "We are not breaking in to somebody's home for the night!"
"So Plan A is off the table. How do you feel about occupying treehouses overnight?"
"NO," she hissed. She yanked her hand free from his and headed back towards the city, where a chain drugstore bridged the neighborhoods.
Riot jogged after her. "Then, unless you've got camping gear in that phone of yours, it's time to find an abandoned facility or car."
Starling came to a sudden halt, and Riot nearly collided with her. She looked up at him. "Is that why you guys chose that warehouse? Not to break in but…just to have a roof over your heads?"
He gave her a partial shrug. "Everyone's gotta have a place to put their heads."
She pursed her lips at that. The next second, she turned abruptly and crossed the street, disappearing into the drugstore.
Riot stood on the sidewalk, his irritation bubbling up as he watched her walk away. It figured, though, he supposed as he turned and eyed a three-story school that sat at this same urban–suburban seam. He marched towards the building, confirming vacancy since summer was still in full swing, and he went around back to view the large, sloped yard they had, which ended in bushes and fencing because of the waterfront. This? This was prime real estate for someone transient like him.
He doubted this was something Starling, born with a silver mask and a silver spoon in her mouth to match, had ever experienced or was something he could convince her to try.
He made a circle of the property, noted the pair of cameras in the front and briefly envied Viridian her powers, and returned to the back. There was movable playground equipment he arranged to shield him from view by the bushes if a casual onlooker passed through, but, soft though the grass was, Riot planned to be up and gone before anyone could possibly come by.
Riot had just settled down with his arms behind his head when he both felt and heard footsteps approaching. But, being familiar with her gait, he didn't bolt but sat up as she neared.
"Come to tell me where you'll be staying for the night?" he inquired, but he said it in a monotone.
Starling's shoulders sagged. She had a plastic bag in her hand, and it crinkled when she gripped it tighter. "I thought you looked for abandoned places," she remarked.
"This is as good as abandoned during July and parts of June and August. I already did a sweep; you saw my arrangement. It'll do for the night."
A minute of silence passed between them. Then Starling nodded, walked around the playground equipment, and joined him on the grass.
Riot studied her. "You do realize this counts as trespassing."
Starling didn't budge. Instead, she pulled from the bag an oversized, garish, neon yellow hoodie that was absurdly thick for the season.
"And you're not planning on wearing that thing, are you? You'll roast." A morbid part of him wanted to crack a rotisserie starling joke, but mostly he was concerned with this sudden change in her behavior.
She folded the hoodie and fluffed it before placing it behind them atop the plastic shopping bag. Proud of her handiwork, she patted it and met his eyes at last with a small, determined smile. "It's as you said: Everyone's gotta have a place to put their heads."
He blinked—once, twice, three times. Riot watched Starling recline with a serene expression on her face and, defeated, he once more stretched out. "You're…here."
"Yeah."
"With me."
"Mm-hmm." She turned her head on their hoodie-turned-pillow. "Today it was hard to get into Vacation Mode, and you helped remind me. But it's not just about me not thinking like a hero. It's about the other point to this break—the 'just Judith and Ethan' part. So if these are day-to-day things Ethan considers, then that's something Judith can take under advisement."
He furrowed his brow. "I think there's an admission that I was right somewhere in there, but the third-person threw me… I think the change in scenery might be screwing with you."
She snorted and shook her head before turning on her right side, facing away from him. "Goodnight, Ethan."
"Uh, yeah. Goodnight…Judith."
-----
Her understanding that night made it easier for them as they picked up and traveled further east and a bit north, living like super-powered teens on the run. Starling insisted on doing certain things on the up-and-up, such as making sure they paid when possible and took advantage of freebies when available, but she seemed genuinely curious now as to how he got by when he wasn't suited up.
Riot felt less reluctant to share with her, too. There wasn't much out of his reach when he used a bit of his super strength even as Ethan, to get places, but it was plenty easy as his civilian self just to root through things people tossed—not that he needed to dumpster dive, though that was a last resort on bad days.
Starling didn't comment on the implicit dumpster diving. But her eyes widened after they nosed around things people had left on the curb one afternoon. "The things people think they can recycle…!"
He snorted. "Some of it gets recycled. Just, y'know, a lot sooner than you think. As in, repurposed. By villains."
They didn't spend the entire time sharing harsh realities, though. On the way to the neighboring town were some monuments dedicated to the pre-supers era, and, though Riot didn't share Starling's enthusiasm for the supposed symbolism of the geometric and floral pieces, he did at least appreciate the absence of Valor's smug mug being on display.
"It wouldn't be bad to come back here," he commented when they left the monuments behind.
Starling did a double-take while in the middle of gathering her braids up into a ponytail. "You wanna visit again?"
Riot nodded. "Sure. After other visitors have left for the day." He offered up his usual confident smirk. "I bet you I could lift one piece in each hand without breaking a sweat."
"Those sculptures weigh tons, Ethan!"
"Yeah, but what're a few tons for the strongest villain in existence?"
She snickered at him and gave his shoulder a shove, but it was a playful gesture, and she didn't try to discourage him further from his mischievous plan.
Days two and three passed by in this manner, caught up in travel and the odd pause for stray sights that caught Starling's interest and the need to eat. And, the further from Centropolis and its surrounding areas they got, the simpler it became to meld into the general populace, with no one hunting them (Riot) or pawing at them (Starling).
"Y'know, I think I could get used to this," Starling stated on their third night out. She scooped up some ice-cream from the take-out dish in her hand and licked her spoon clean, but then she tapped the utensil against her lips as she and Riot walked under an old stone bridge in the smaller, quaint town next door to the community from the day before. "Actually eating junk food like a regular person, being out this late…sleeping under the summer stars at night." She tilted her head up at Riot.
He looked down at her, and he exhaled when she nudged him to have a bite. Before this, he knew better than to trust unnaturally green food…but he guessed mint chocolate chip wasn't all that bad. "You like it now because you haven't had it before," he corrected.
Starling shrugged and nodded at the same time. Then something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye as they exited the bridge. "Hey."
Riot stopped and looked with her. Oh, great. More "art"—well, at least it was more up his alley, since he'd done his share of tagging across Valley View, Centropolis, and Occam's Landing.
The notable graffiti was a mishmash of styles on the old stones, an angular style with arrow serifs that spelled out "don't" in all caps and black and white. Right below, "choose" was spelled in a bubble font and colorful letters. The words, stacked one on top of the other, had a distinctive artistic choice that made the surrounding graffiti sketches look like chicken scratch or bad doodles.
Everything else was noise.
"DON'T CHOOSE" had been created with intent.
Up ahead on the path, laughter snapped Riot and Starling to attention. A small group of teens, definitely younger than them, horsed around, laughing and carrying backpacks that gave away a telltale clang as they drew near.
"Ethan," Starling warned in a low voice when he passed their ice-cream back and set his feet apart.
"We're backlit and I'm just giving them a little scare," he assured her. Then he stomped his right foot into the ground.
The first movement caught their attention, and the group of teens froze. A second stomp sent them running back where they came.
Proud of himself, he smirked as he and Starling resumed their nighttime stroll. "You were talking about summer stars."
Starling narrowed her eyes at him in a dry expression. "There was no need to scare them off. They hardly would've ruined the night."
Probably not, he mused to himself. He caught one last look at the graffiti, "DON'T CHOOSE" fading behind them as a reminder of what awaited them at the end of this getaway. But there are some pretty things I'm not ready to part with just yet.
-----
As easy as it was to breathe the last couple days, they woke on the fourth morning, and Starling's bubbliness had died down.
"We…should probably start heading back."
Riot didn't argue with her. He knew, from his two years in the League's lockup alone, that she could be incredibly stubborn, and he didn't want to waste time arguing.
They stuck around in the quaint town long enough for the ice-cream shop to open that day, and Starling got another order of mint chocolate chip. But they found a bus that would have them in the next town in an hour, and her appetite soured after that. "Dessert for breakfast—not the wisest decision," she murmured, shoving the treat into his arms.
He looked down at it, but today the green color was just too unappealing, so he tossed it before they boarded their ride.
The hour flew by in the blink of an eye. Riot cajoled her into retracing some of their steps after that, slowing them down a bit, and he managed to coax a smile from her when he purposefully took them past the pre-supers era monuments, especially when she put her foot down that no, she didn't need a demonstration of his strength nor did she need to learn which was the heaviest piece on display.
They slowed down further, returning to that first city, the one closest to the bus hub, and Riot surmised the same memories were replaying in her head, too, of nosy onlookers prying into her business. So, with that in mind, he concentrated on winding through the streets, on navigating back to the food trucks…
…which, of fucking course, were closed even though it was barely evening.
Starling smiled, grateful for the effort, but it was a brittle expression. She squeezed his hand, as if adding, Don't worry about it. Then she bought a pair of fresh apples from a bodega before it, too, closed for the night, and the fruit supplemented another round of fast food for dinner.
Riot had better luck when he retraced their steps back to that school. It was still closed for summer break and… "Finally," he grunted, clenching his fist in a little triumphant motion when they went around to the waterfront yard out back.
Her eyebrows shot up. "Everything's as we left it."
"Meaning no one's been by." He exhaled and plopped down in the same spot he'd occupied just a couple nights ago. His eyes followed Starling as she joined him all the same, and they reclined together after she untied the neon yellow hoodie from around her waist and turned it into a pillow as had become the norm these last few nights.
The sunset was a deeper red by the time they settled tonight, and red gave way to violet hues before Starling spoke up, breaking their peaceful quiet. "…this has been nice, Ethan."
Hmm. That use of "nice"… "Thinking this long weekend is lacking?" he guessed.
She hesitated, and Riot glanced at her profile, seeing the concern in her pinched expression. "I just—I worry. About all the help I wasn't able to provide while I've been away."
He shook his head and fought a gnawing urge to scoff. "Thought you said you could get used to this."
"It's…hard. You weren't wrong; I don't know this life. All I know is being a superhero, living in a family of heroes. So…as much as I've enjoyed this selfish time, my mind can't help but wander." Starling gritted her teeth and huffed, not at him but to herself. "DAMMIT! Pausing the hero mindset is a lot harder than I thought it'd be."
Riot faced her and pulled her fists away from where she pressed them against her eyes in frustration. For all the times he'd made fun of her vanity, being a starlet, he also could see how the League and even her fans took advantage of her—and she wasn't even a clone someone had created, to play around with and toss away when they'd had their fill. He frowned. "You give too much, Star."
She eyed her knuckles but rested her arms against her chest once he released her hands. "Maybe."
"There's no 'maybe' about it." Riot pressed his temple in annoyance and lay back down. "Learn to take instead of give."
Far below their feet, beyond the fence, waves crashed at the shore of the waterfront. A stray cricket somewhere in the nearby bushes chirped, counting off the late hour. And, a heartbeat later, Starling took his advice literally, turning his face back towards hers and kissing him, deeply.
His eyes widened in surprise, but he returned the favor. This wasn't a verbal spar over ideologies, over whether the League of Heroes had more in common with villains than she realized. This wasn't him getting into new trouble and knowing she'd turn up, despite knowing his crew would have renewed gripes for him when they called it a night. This was a different kind of fun, and one he'd only share with Starling, that was for sure.
But, the moment he thought that, a second notion struck him, hard, like a slap in the face:
Was this something she meant only to share with him?
Starling pulled away first, but she smiled against his lips, satisfied, and curled up against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and chuckled. "Lesson learned, then."
Riot blinked, briefly forgetting what she referenced. Even when he acknowledged her clever retort, he didn't trust his mouth right now, so he nodded. But it'd be a while before he slept…
…especially with the reminder of Jake Madden weighing on his mind.
-----
"Anarchy." "Aiden." "Ethan." "Riot." "Chaos." "Bad Jake." "The clone."
It didn't matter that you put lipstick on a pig; the facts still stood. And, no matter how hard Riot had put distance between himself and the truth, he was Jake Madden's clone.
He dwelled on this as he and Starling hiked back up to the bus hub. She didn't seem to mind his sudden quiet, content herself with what had transpired. She also kept a stiff upper lip and ignored the few glances cast her way while they waited for their bus to arrive. Not giving a damn—a good quality to possess, if she ever turned to villainy.
But while she cared less about public scrutiny, Riot finally acknowledged that…well, he wasn't wrong…but Viridian and Spirit and Anubis were right. He had a soft spot for Starling. He cared—and he had for a long time, likely, given that she consistently had been the sole one to treat him like a person.
He'd teased her openly about it, even though being Jake's clone didn't make him an exact copy. Kraniac had made the clone stronger than his own son, and his hair was a smidge darker. And he'd made a point of keeping his scruff because it felt like the opposite of how Jake would present himself.
But if growing as a clone meant doing more human things, like eating and drinking and sleeping, then becoming more human—
—what if this soft spot he felt for Starling wasn't even something he could call his own? What if his feelings were just another thing copied over from Jake?
(What if this long weekend of…of happiness belonged to someone else?)
Their bus arrived, and Starling gave Riot a curious look, noting he was lost in thought. His grin was tight, but he followed her aboard, to the back. He chuckled when she tucked her legs up under her and leaned back comfortably against him, arranging his arm so it was slung across her like a seatbelt.
…good grief, what was he thinking? He'd told Anubis that Starling always letting him off the hook was her weakness. But these feelings of his, real or not, Jake's or his own—Riot's feelings were the real weak point to exploit. He was damn lucky Anubis or Viridian or the others hadn't used her against him.
The final hundred miles back to Occam's Landing ticked by. Even when they drew close and passed by the "Welcome" sign, indicating their stop would be up in fifteen minutes, neither Riot nor Starling budged. And, when the bus slowed and paused there, neither of them got off.
Even if his feelings for her were just transference, just Jake's for her, and even if it meant her feelings for him were just hers for Jake, Riot wasn't ready to leave. Not yet.
The red LED sign above the driver flashed. It noted the next three destinations: first, a stop on the other side of the city; second, the blip on the map between Occam's Landing and Centropolis; and third and finally, a stop at the edge of Centropolis.
Starling gently hugged his arm, though her eyes seemed focused on the cars and trees beyond the window. If she'd peeked at the sign and deduced he planned to take her home, she didn't let on.
Riot kept his gaze forward, absentmindedly knocking his knuckles against one of her braids as it brushed his hand with each small jostle of the bus, and calculated routes of attack if Viridian or the others happened to see them while the bus made its way through Occam's Landing and took the betrayal personally.
One by one, the miles under them accumulated, and the behemoth that was Centropolis loomed four, maybe five super-powered jumps away, by Riot's estimate. He didn't have a lot of memories about this part of Centropolis, given what little he'd seen of it going in to the League's custody and then shaking off a layer of debris two years later and choosing to stick to its seedy underbelly for a time before hopping around and ultimately settling at the warehouse in Occam's Landing. But Centropolis intimidated him in a way Occam's Landing and Valley View didn't. The skyscrapers here seemed aptly named, clawing at the sky and stretching beyond that, all the while breathing down on everyone like sentient watchtowers. The only counter to that constant surveillance was the sea of blinding lights at ground level, notable across vehicles and advertisements on buildings and even in the fashion people wore, bright even in the afternoon sun.
"Centropolis, E Street," the electronic announcement system interrupted. "Repeat: Centropolis, E Street stop. Boarding."
Riot and Starling filed off with half the other passengers, and a similar number of folks boarded after them. Out on the pavement, Centropolis was a lot more intimidating.
"Didn't think I'd be here again," Riot mumbled to himself.
Starling must've heard. She squeezed his wrist and pulled him free from the busy throng of people waiting at the stop or moving at the same pace of the car traffic but on foot. She glanced around, took a breath, and nodded to herself, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt as if it were her cape. "Strange to be home," she remarked.
Riot frowned. "But you are home."
Starling didn't react.
"It's clear you're ready to give Valor your answer. You've been set since yesterday morning, when you insisted we get back." He looked away from her, squinting as the sunlight hit the office building across the street just wrong and it tried to blind him. He ran his hand over the back of his head, determined not to sigh as he continued, "I know you want to chase your dreams…to chase after Jake."
Starling gaped at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, you've been pretty clear about it."
She glared at him and shoved his shoulder, hard enough to make him stumble, though she caught him by the front of his shirt before he collided with any bystanders. Starling wound her fingers around the fabric and, with the tight hold, pulled him along the sidewalk to where no one chose to walk, since construction scaffolding blocked part of the path. But she slipped them between beams and turned on her heel to face him. "Ethan, you dummy! Why the hell would you think that?!"
Riot clenched his jaw.
Starling heaved a sigh and lowered her voice. "The Maddens, Jake included, have their own lives, without me in it! I have a life, without them in it! Do I miss them? Hell yes!" Starling frowned and twisted her lips around before admitting, "But they moved on, and so did I."
He furrowed his brow. "But—"
"But what?"
"Star, I'm his clone."
"Yeah, and that's been a weird hurdle for me to get over. But you two are very, very different people." She looked him up and down. "For one, Jake's not nearly as moody."
Riot scowled. "Fine. So I'm not a replica." He narrowed his eyes at her. "But you've never once thought of me as his replacement?"
Starling flinched. A second later, she ducked his eyes and fiddled with the hem of her shirt once more. "…at the start, when the League first held you, yeah. That occurred to me. But"—she lifted her head and met his eyes, holding steady—"I haven't ever called you 'Jake,' and when was the last time I referred to you as 'Chaos'?"
Those…were incredibly good points, so Riot deflated. He hung his head, his confidence waning as he disclosed, "…you may be fine with your feelings, but mine…" He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence.
Starling took a step closer, coming into his view. Damn, those big brown eyes were glittering again as she looked up at him. "Hey. Ethan, I don't doubt what you feel. Because you hated me, as much as you hated the others at the start. Getting to know me, on your own, and letting those feelings change…that was all up to you." She placed her palm on his chest, over his heart. "That's why I don't and won't doubt what I've seen in your eyes for a long time. It's why I finally felt comfortable—just going for it, spending this time with you." Starling stood on her tiptoes, pecked his lips, and grinned. "Kissing you, too." Then her grin dimmed until it faded entirely. "But if you tell me now, sincerely, that you don't care for me whatsoever…then I'll respect that and back off."
To emphasize her point, Starling took half a step back. In doing so, her hand fell away from him—
—but Riot subconsciously caught it, and they stood, frozen in the moment, as if Starling had used her temporal powers.
Riot bent down and leaned his forehead against hers. They brushed noses as he asked, "What now? No college for you, so back to normal?"
"Well, 'normal' is relative, especially when you're a hero dating a villain…"
He smirked. "Haven't you heard? People take breaks from this hero-and-villain stuff nowadays."
She smiled, but it was that borderline smirk of her own—and a smirk wasn't a bad look on his cheeky hero. "Oh, yeah? Tell me more."
He could. But she'd once pointed out to him that his actions did a better job than he did of talking, so Riot kissed Starling instead, hard and lasting for two heartbeats—the kind of kiss that came with a promise.
And then Riot made good on that promise, brushing her hair back, locking eyes with her, and taking hold of Starling's hand as they got the hell out of there.
-----
Done for the Year of the OTP (July prompts: vacation together, enemies to lovers, and stars) on tumblr. Well. I think this is the fic that confirms precisely how much thought I've given to Starling and more so to Jake's clone, *LOL*. Setting this when they're older/college age might seem random considering my previous Clonelings (and my other ideas for them are at their current/younger ages, in case you're wondering and/or waiting), but there were just. A lot. Of ideas and topics I wanted to address that I felt the passage of time would allow. There are Easter eggs for readers of my previous stories, mostly for "Doubtful," and this almost reads like a sequel of sorts to that story; I did lean on that a bit for some deets, but I do think of these as separate stories/AUs, so it's fine if you do or don't, idm. (I know "Doubtful" has its fans.) But heavier topics deffo require allowing both the clone and Starling to swear, bc damn do they deserve that. Altho, swearing plus allowing the clone to be a bit more violent make this a T-rated story, *lol*. Some odds & ends: The title I hope is obvious, but in case it isn't…Starling thinks she has just two options in front of her, as hero or regular girl, but the clone, as always, presents a third avenue (calling him "Option C," whether for "clone" or "Chaos," as he briefly referred to himself in yesteryear, just makes me grin). And a bit of a plothole, I guess, in the clone assuming those teens would ruin my foreshadowing "DON'T CHOOSE" graffiti and that one of them wasn't the artist, oops. ;P (Let's just go with it. XD) Btw, she calls him "Ethan" easily, but he clearly felt it odd to call her "Judith" and ngl it is hard for me to write/think of her that way, too, hence characterizing him as preferring to call her "Star" when he's being fond. :') Lastly, as to where Cloneling head in the end…well, it's ambiguous/open-ended on purpose, bc I think leaving it to the reader's imagination works here, since it's already ending on a happy note. -w- (Happy ending, I SWEAR, despite the edit I made specifically to go with this angst-ridden fic! XDDD)
NOW! For a few bonus details! Regarding names. XD First and foremost, the clone juggling a bunch of names was a conscious choice, since I knew he'd choose one that "felt right" later on. The villain names were just fun bc I was thinking of synonyms for "chaos," hence Anarchy and Riot. As for why he was briefly Aiden and mostly Ethan… I did a little research and found that, some yrs ago when the name "Jacob" (since "Jake" is likely a nickname) was popular, the names "Aiden" and "Ethan" were higher up the list—basically, either name means the clone "beats" Jake in some manner. X'DDD Not to mention trying to call Jake's Evil Clone "JEC" for short would…phonetically sound like "Jake" in the end. :O (Btw, supposedly "Aiden" means "little fire" and "Ethan" means "firm, enduring, strong, & long-lived." I think "Ethan" rly is quite fitting for our stubborn, grumpy clone.) On a similar note, my made-up setting for the clone and his crew, Occam's Landing, is a reference to the principle of Occam's razor. If "the simplest explanation is usually the best," then the best option for the clone to take up residence is obvious: just go somewhere the Maddens and the League of Heroes aren't. ;D
And, finally, all the OCs: I…am actually quite fond of them, huh, even tho the clone does not exactly categorize his crew as friends. I borrowed some hero OCs from "Doubtful" (Lumina and Jacque Frost), but all the rest are new, and I have a renewed itch to scribble out some designs, esp if anyone else might wanna borrow them for their own fics. :'D Mildly curious to daydream about what previously made Anubis come and go, esp if Starling had been involved before, and I'm curious: Considering Cloneling's memory of Shadow's attack, does anyone want to see a story on that/days leading up to/days right after (might be Starling's POV or both hers and the clone's)? Idk, I just think it's neat s2 has given us Shadow and I look forward to what else they do with the mythos of the series.
Thanks for reading (esp if you made it this far with my longer than usual A/N *lobs hearts at you*), and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!
~mew
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