Bab 142: 139 Surprise Visit
New York, New York, August 21st, 20:12.
Okay, so I might have gotten carried away a little bit.
This was only supposed to be a short stop before I drop Mimi off at Brockton, but now it's nearly been a month and I've mostly just spent that time fucking Clara and enjoying the life of luxury in my fancy ass house.
I have hardly even done any villaining, just the occasional PHO post showing off another murder, a girl's gotta eat, or that time a bit over a week ago that I visited Boston to pick Mimi up some drugs made by this Blasto guy.
Since I haven't been that active, I also took the opportunity to beat up half the city's Protectorate, just for fun and to make sure I'm not forgotten. Not that I'm an attention whore or anything, but my Clowns are still hanging off of my reputation right now, at least to some degree.
They'll probably be self sufficient soon enough, having developed enough of a rep without me that I won't have to care about staying in the public eye anymore, so that's nice.
Also, having a supercar really makes travelling a lot easier. I have already lived with pretty privilege my entire life, but rich privilege is a new experience.
Speaking of being rich, I put out an open commission on PHO for a million bucks to see if any Tinker out there can make me a reverse flashlight, where instead of shining light, I can just beam darkness into people's faces.
Not for any tactical purposes, I just think it'll be funny, and I want to shine it at people while they're driving.
However, my time hasn't been completely wasted, and not just because I've been having fun, and time spent enjoying oneself should never be counted as time wasted, but I've also had a quick chat with Uppercrust.
There wasn't really a lot to talk about to be honest, because we've already been over our deal, so all that was really left was to confirm some things and get started working on a timetable for everything.
Hopefully it all works out, because it's a pretty big project, but it will totally be worth it in the end. Especially in the future when it all falls apart.
It amuses me greatly that Uppercrust is only thinking of the future up until completion, while I never even cared about what the project will be like when it's done, I'm just looking forward to when it eventually falls apart.
𝘈𝘩𝘩𝘯~ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨.~
I also used the opportunity to help out Cerberus and Diversity, because an organisation like The Elite is almost constantly short staffed, or rather, they could always use more capes, so it wasn't too hard for Uppercrust to find someone happy to hire Diversity.
Cerberus was harder, but these are criminals we're talking about here, they're fine with hiring him under the table, so long as there is no trace to prove that they did in fact hire him.
Reputation is important after all, and lies are the bread and butter of the underworld.
Thankfully at least, Mimi is a drug addict with severe detachment issues, so she's not kicking up a fuss about our extended stay. To be honest, I'm not even sure if she realises how long we've been here.
I think Sam and What's-Her-Name might actually be using her as some kind of practice run for what it would be like to raise a kid. Obviously, taking care of Mimi isn't nearly as comprehensive as a literal baby, it's more like having a pet cat I'd imagine, but still.
They didn't accept my request for a threesome though, which sucks. Something about only being for each other or something. I mean, Sam was obviously interested, but the girl wasn't, and she's too straight for me to convince unfortunately.
Not everyone has a little bi in them, some people are just straight. How sad.
Now, with all of this said and done, you'd think this would be the time I pack up and get on with what I originally intended to do, but it turns out that Billy Butcher got back to New York yesterday, so I've decided to give him a visit, maybe hang out before I bother with Mimi and all the other stuff.
At least with all this down time I've been able to get a lot of none face to face business done. It's kind of a pain though. Like, the sheer amount of phone calls I've made over the past few weeks is just painful.
Most of the time it was with people of various importance, introducing myself to them, since I am the 'head' of the Clowns, effectively. It's not like my Clowns can't just do whatever they want, but still, as the founder, I am naturally something of a representative.
Which means I have to introduce myself to information brokers across the country, as well as anyone who likes to hire mercenaries, or seems like they would have the money to hire help for anything they need.
Basically, the people who are powerful, but not 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 powerful, you know?
The most interesting person I talked to was probably Accord, from Boston. He's fun.
Well, he's fun to fuck with.
Dude's got some super OCD shit going on, to the point where he regularly kills people for being one minute late, or not tucking their shirt in or something.
It's assumed that it's power induced behaviour, turning already present OCD into a psychotic need for everything to be neat and in order.
Now, I could just purposefully be as disorganised as possible to fuck with him, but not only would that have lost business, but it also just would have lead to him trying to kill me, and me probably having to kill him.
So instead, I made sure to keep myself neat and on time, but only 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺.
I arrived at our meeting on time, but I paused before meeting him, making it so that I was only a second late.
Not enough to really notice, but enough that his power was whispering to him that something was wrong, like an ich you cannot scratch. Similarly, I never looked directly in the eye. Instead, I looked at the whites of his eyes, just to the sides of the pupils.
Again, not enough to really notice, but enough that it'll bother him. It's a fun challenge, to thread the needle between too much and too little.
But that's not important right now.
What matters is that I've finally reached The Teeth's main base in this city, thanks to Clara for the directions.
Since I'm not here for official reasons, I decided not to bother with a costume, though, to be fair, I hardly bother with any costumes beyond the mask at this point anyway.
After all, the prison outfit kind of got boring, and I already have a kill order anyone, so it's not like I can play the card of being in my civilian identity to get out of fights, since the unwritten rules stop capes from going after other capes when they aren't wearing the mask.
But as I am formally dead, none of those rules apply to me.
Not that it really even matters anyway, since I can shapeshift if I want to go unnoticed, and if anyone does notice me, they usually just run away now, or give up or something.
It sucks. I guess that's the problem with being too powerful. No one wants to fight anymore.
So as I walk up to The Teeth's warehouse, located in a mostly secluded industrial area, I am simply wearing jean short shorts, a way too expensive belt with a skull buckle, and a black fishnet crop top that is just transparent enough to give flashes of skin, but not enough to actually get a proper view.
though, you can see the nipple piercings that I put in just this morning to go with the ear, nose and belly button ones. As final additions to the accessories, I have a necklace with a silver chain and a black skull at the end, with a couple of rings on my fingers, each depicting various bones.
With my hair died black and a little eyeshadow added, alongside my nails that are just naturally black anyway, no doubt thanks to my blood reforming them, I look hella goth.
In case it isn't obvious, I'm doing my best to match with The Teeth's aesthetic, because I'm a sweetheart like that.
Maybe I should have gotten some tattoos? It's not like I can't just rip the skin off if I ever decide I don't want it anymore.
Something to think about.
The front of the building is seemingly abandoned, though I can hear the sounds of partying from inside, so it's clearly not.
The moment I step a foot past the gate surrounding the building, I immediately get the feeling of being watched, but a quick glance around shows no one watching, meaning it's probably a Thinker power of some sort keeping track of me.
Ignoring that, I walk up to a steel door and knock to the theme of The Imperial March, because Darth Vader's theme is cool and I just know that the idiots inside won't understand the implications, which just makes the idea funnier to me.
After about half a minute of knocking, a sliding bar in the door snaps open, leaving me face to eye with some dude glaring at me. His glare only intensifies as I make eye contact and continue to knock to the song.
"I swear, if you don't shut the fuck up, I am gonna wear your fucking spine like a scarf."
In the face of his 'terrifying' 'threats,' I simply roll my eyes and smirk at him.
"Uhuh, and I'll tear your dick off, shove a stick through it like a fucking kebab and feed it to the homeless. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"
"The fuck should I? Who're you anyway?" Doorman asks, sounding less hostile after my threat for some reason, so I decide to keep up with that, whilst also employing the age old strategy us women have been able to use since time immemorial.
"Your mother, the fuck do you care cuntweed? I'll show you my tits if you stop being such a fag and open the fucking door?"
"Deal." He doesn't even hesitate.
What a loser.
Still, it's not like I'm shy, so I dutifully lift up my top, flashing him for a few seconds before dropping it back down and tapping my foot expectantly.
Typically, the dumbass has to push his luck.
"C'mon, is that it? A look isn't enough, gimme a feel and I'll let you in." Obviously, he isn't going to just let things go, but luckily he is clearly a horny idiot, so getting past him won't be an issue.
I mean, he wouldn't be working the front door during a party if he was popular after all.
So I just give him a flirtatious smile and put a hand on my hip, not quite posing for him. "My blood alcohol level is not nearly high enough to fuck a limp dicked bitch like you, maybe after I've had a few shots I'll consider it.~"
As predicted, he gets all hot and bothered by the insults instead of being turned off. You'd be surprised how many macho men are actually super submissive and into being insulted.
It's not like it's a stereotype you can count on or anything, but it is more common than you'd think.
So I'm not surprised when he eagerly lets me in, slapping my ass as I pass him with a reminder to come back for, and I quote, 'a good fucking.'
Naturally, he is not getting laid. Because even if I wasn't a parahuman, he is still working the door during a party, so he's likely a social outcast, while I'm a sexy as fuck woman, so I could at anytime just hang off some other dude if he comes looking for me, and suddenly everyone will be telling him to fuck off and leave me alone.
Gotta love social manipulation.
Though it kind of gets too easy when there's a crowd. It makes it way too easy to direct their thoughts, since they'll just do what everyone else is doing.
Ah well, time to surprise my beloved.~
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A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Hey bitches, you remember those two chapters that were like 3.5k words and I said how they weren't close enough to 4k for me to split them into two separate chapters? Well guess who just wrote 4k words >:)
Haha! Get rekt! This chapter got split in half for 2 2k chapters instead of one 4k! Muahahaha!!
In all seriousness though, I wouldn't have done it, cuz I do actually care about you guys, and I want to give you nice things, but I've been dancing between not having enough chapters in reserve for the past few days, and splitting this just gives me an extra day, which I kinda felt like I needed, so that's the actual reason. Though things should kick off in a few chaps and I should be able to keep writing a bunch happily, so alls is good :) <3
HEHEHEHUAHAHAHA!! I HAVE BEEN BRIBED!!! SMUT IS COMING!!!!!
(5+)Advanced chapters with the links below!
pat/reon.com/user?u=41732867 (get rid of the first slash or check the description)
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