Chapter 20 (Patreon)

Kidnapping Squealer of all people hadn’t been my first choice.

Even in my past life I was the type to keep my circles extremely small, so going out and intentionally looking for a greasy-haired skank to add into the mix was pretty much on the opposite side of my usual MO. It was Cassie who actually made the push to ‘recruit’ Squealer, if only for the counter prisoner-break that would inevitably be happening in a few days. The truth of the matter was that our little Nazi Culling group were three members strong, and none of us were particularly high Movers.

The PRT would be moving fast in order to clear out of the city in an attempt to beat the Empire’s scouts, and we still didn’t know what sort of chess pieces Kaiser himself planned to send forward. I had a few select teleportation abilities under my grasp, Conveyance being practically instant in exchange for having the shortest range, but trusting solely in ten to twenty foot bursts of movement when trying to keep up with a potentially armored caravan was just…not smart.

We needed a good ride, and with a significant lack of capital that would not increase exponentially in the scant couple days we had to prepare, we had to rely on another thing my magical abilities made me especially talented at.

Kidnapping drugged-out Tinkers with advanced vehicle specialties.

With Cassie and 084 working together, finding the druggies’ block party was ridiculously easy. Manipulating Ulgu and slipping beneath their coked-out noses with a quietly murmured spell was even moreso.

Playing some Denzel Curry and kicking Skidmark and Mush’s ass was just plain ol’ fun.

And, as a result, here I was; Masked-up and slinking through shadowy alleyways like fucking Sly Cooper, a distractingly jiggly and disgustingly stinky Squealer tossed over my shoulder. My shoulder was also a bit wet, and I was scared she fucking pissed on me. There were a couple of spells I knew that would’ve made the transportation to the hospital a little bit easier, one being Azyr’s The Sapphire Arch, but that would mean putting the bitch in frozen stasis and then just plopping her out, high and volatile, in front of Panacea - if Amy was even there at 8 PM.

Not the greatest of ideas, so I had to set shit straight beforehand.

“-go of me you fuckin’ arrogant asshole! Skiddy’s gonna find me, fucker, and he’s gonna make you pay! You hear me?! Rape! RAPE-”

A sharp shrug of my shoulders and a whisper of Aqshy, and Squealer squealed in her high-pitched voice as she was sent flying through the air. I caught her in my right hand, squeezing just enough on the sides to cut off her words and choke her up just a little bit. In the darkness of the evening, I could see how the bloodshot white of her eyes grew, pupils dilating in fear and panic as choked words struggled to escape her cracked lips.

In some ways, dully at the back of my mind, I felt kinda bad - this was the first time I choked a woman nonconsensually. It didn’t feel very good, but she was a pretty shitty person so fuck it.

“Sinaö.”

The makeshift spell that I was tentatively starting to call ‘Silence of the Lamb’ took hold immediately, the gasped words silencing as Ulgu moved forth like a miasma and clogged Squealer’s throat shut - only allowing enough room for her to breath in short, shallow breaths. I flexed my arm, tendons stretching and muscles tightening as I single-handedly dangled her off her feet. Squealer wasn’t a small woman - each of her huge breasts had to be at least the size of Cassie’s head.

That wasn’t even getting into the ass.

“So, here’s how we’re gonna do this,” I said, flexing my mana and pushing Force of Spirit to the forefront. “You’re gonna shut your fucking mouth and listen to me like a good girl, yeah?”

My voice dipped even lower, moving into an intimidating growl that caused the vehicle Tinker to seize in my palm, like a possum trying to play dead. Considering her eyes were still wide and staring straight into mine, the instinctive tactic was pretty useless.

She stopped trying to force out words, at least.

I dropped her, and she immediately collapsed onto her knees.

Fortunately, we were pretty deep in some ratty, dark, alleyway, so outside of some unconscious hobo sleeping in a dumpster I didn’t have to worry about anyone listening in and interrupting what was quickly about to become a ‘Conversion Speedrun’. I didn’t want to spend the next two hours pleading with the chick to play ball and let me help her, and if Panacea was at the Downtown General Hospital now, I doubted that she would be there for much longer - she was like, what, 17? And it was a school night?

I dialed Hidden Intuition up to a nice 4/10, and looked down at the gasping druggie.

Dilated pupils, unnatural tremors throughout the body, fresh sores along both forearms, scent of cheap liquor; Squealer is high on Methamphetamine, drunk, and suffering a panic attack.

All things that were relatively easy to surmise, even without a detective’s wet dream as a magical ability. I cranked it even higher, taking the time to circle around the shivering woman and look over her body for more information to go off of. Hidden Intuition highlighted every noteworthy feature as if it was evidence - the sores glowing red, the scent of alcohol becoming pronounced and drifting off of her body like a green poison, the sound of her shaking ramping up in volume in my ears.

She snapped around to follow me with her eyes, clearly having trouble seeing me in the darkness. Her lips quivered, and she began scratching at her sore-covered hands anxiously. It looked like she would have been mere moments away from trying to run, if her ankles and wrists weren’t bound by zip ties.

Squealer is anxious, afraid, and aroused.

Wait, what?

Squealer is afraid of you. Squealer is afraid you plan to sexually assault her after taking her from Skidmark. Squealer is hoping you plan to sexually assault her. Squealer is sexually, emotionally, and mentally unsatisfied by Skidmark. Getting drunk makes Squealer horny. Getting high makes Squealer horny. Non-consensual consent makes Squealer horny. Squealer finds you physically appeali-

‘...What the fuck?’

My eyes slowly drifted towards my shoulder, where I’d felt a wet sensation as I jogged through the alleys, and sure enough…

My Intuition highlighted a clear, sticky spot staining my coat, almost impossible to see without some sort of supernatural vision. Squealer’s arousal leaked onto your shoulder.

I would have laughed if I wasn’t grossed out.

I was not recruiting Squealer by fucking loyalty and common sense into her body. For one, I was almost absolutely certain that she had a whole plethora of sexually transmitted diseases, and going off of her stink she wasn’t the biggest fan of cleaning herself either. Secondly, and most importantly, I was… in a relationship. Not a situationship, not a ‘friend with benefit’ exchange, but an actual, gf to bf relationship. If Squealer was clean and I was single, well… I wasn’t exactly a pious priest, and fucking another dude’s girl wasn’t treading new ground for me, but what I had with Cassie was different.

I was a loyal guy, or, at least, I tried to be. Sure, I found a lot of different women ridiculously hot and there were definitely some chicks across the omniverse that I would give an arm and a leg to creampie, but if there was one thing I never did before becoming a mage, it was cheat.

Now, with permission from Cass, or even better - fucking women with my woman? Oh, I’d go to fucking town because the horny train never stopped and I was a licensed conductor, but we’d never spoken about that sorta stuff. I kinda just asked her to be my girlfriend, and that was that. Buuut… those were more complicated thoughts for more complicated conversations, to be had by Future Jason.

Right now, Present Jason had to figure out the best way to use this information. Amongst the droves of sexual insights was something I felt like I could lean on. Skidmark’s ineptitude.

“It’s fucking disappointing,” I finally spoke up, considering the last few seconds had been spent with me combing my thoughts and Squealer watching me warily.

She scowled and tried to hiss something else, realized that no sound was coming out, and instead bared her yellowing teeth at me. With the knowledge that she was getting off to our current dynamic, the gesture looked a lot less fearsome.

I squatted down in the dirty alley, only a couple feet away from the twitching blonde. She lashed forward with her upper body as soon as her eyes caught sight of my face again, and I didn’t move - simply watching as she skinned her knee against the ground and fell flat on her face with a stifled yelp.

While she wiggled fruitlessly to get back on her knees, I tilted my head and caught her rabid gaze once again. “I’ve seen your work before; online, mostly, getting trash-talked by every cape wannabe that thinks they know something about Tinkers. It’s a shame, too, because your vehicles are impressive.”

At some point, she had managed to scrape her chin against the ground and force her eyes upwards; ass in the sky, and tits squished between her body and a torn up, discarded newspaper. If she wasn’t paying heed before, Force of Spirit had her glaring and listening with rapt attention now.

I grinned. It felt strange on my face - plastic and fake, like the makeup she had caked on hers.

She spat, and it didn’t come anywhere close to my boots.

“You wanna know the constant between all of those jeers, though? The one thing that manages to drag everything down and make your hard work seem so fucking ridiculous?”

Squealer couldn’t speak, but I could imagine her response; ‘What is it then, mister smartass?’ in that high-pitched, southern drawl.

My grin dropped, and I replied to the imaginary woman. “Skidmark, the gummy mouthed asshole that uses you to spearhead and power all of his bullshit schemes. What are you even doing, sucking off a bunch of diseased deadbeats and sticking needles up your ass when you can make a fucking spaceship? Bitch, go work for NASA. Hell, you can make thousands betting on yourself in street races. Why the hell are you wasting away with losers like the Merchants?”

She was jerking, brows furrowing and teeth gnashing together as she tried to speak over me. At some point her battered welding mask had fallen off of her face, probably long before we’d arrived at this alley, but judging by the way she was simulating a salted snail I doubted she was caring all that much in the moment. Fortunately, I didn’t need to hear her voice to understand what she was saying. Powered up to its full effect, Hidden Intuition was more than capable of making sense of Squealer’s facial expressions and body language. She practically wore her heart on her needle-pricked sleeve.

Squealer is angry. Squealer is angry that you’re calling out everything she has known for a long time. Squealer is angry that you’re making her feel regret. Squealer is sad. Squealer is in denial. Squealer is no longer aroused-

Yeah, I figured. Hearing how much of a waste of space your boyfriend made you by proxy of being his girlfriend was pretty sobering information.

Still, it wasn’t enough. I could tell - she was mad at me, mad at herself, and her high was getting properly fucked up, but she wasn’t completely drawn in. Understandable, since I’d been teasing the point of my little speech the whole time like some sort of monologuing asshole.

People like her didn’t respect weakness; they respected decisiveness, and power. I didn’t know her past, but going off of what I did know about her, she was probably drawn to Skidmark under the lure of money, fame, and another hit, and when he realized the tarnished gem that she was, he probably upped the doses immensely, mixing in some crazy shit. Got her proper fucked up and fiending, hemmed up in the high of it all before she even realized what path her new life was heading down. She was a follower, through and through, and drug abuse chipped away at whatever willpower she used to have. As a result, I had to play hardball since it was probably the only thing she was used to. Compassion would probably make her feel like I was lying to her, Force of Spirit or not. She’d been burned, used, and preyed on when she was at her weakest by men probably doing the same soft, gaslighting ass tactics.

That was what I was feeling with Hidden Intuition, at least.

I had to do this my way.

“...!”

She made a noiseless hissing sound when my gold-clad right hand darted forward as swift as a snake, wrapping around her greasy blonde ponytail and grabbing her hair in an ironclad grip. I didn’t yank or pull - much; I eased her body up slowly, watching as her lower body scrambled to find the purchase that it previously lacked when she was slumped over ass-up.

Squealer’s bloodshot eyes darted left and right for a moment, momentarily refusing to meet mine now that I was so close that I could spot the cracks in her caked on foundation. Inevitably, however, her stubbornness broke and she looked at me.

Truly looked at me.

When I grinned this time, it was genuine. Crooked and mischievous, like every other smile I put on, but no longer plastic.

I spoke quietly. “Brockton Bay’s gonna be changing soon, and I plan to herald that change. Hell, downtown’s already mine and they don’t even know it yet. The Empire’s days are numbered, the Merchants are finished, and it’s only a matter of time before Coil’s taken care of too. I can offer you a lotta things - money, resources, respect, victory… but you gotta show me that you’re worth all that. Show me that you can be as smart as I know you are. And that means calming the fuck down, coming with me to get that bullshit cleaned outta your system, and actin’ like you’ve got some lingering shred of self-respect. You get me?”

Something glinted in her wide gaze, and if I wasn’t watching for it I would have missed it. Anger, frustration, and… hope? Relief?

I relaxed my grip on her hair ever so slightly, but she didn’t shift an inch. She was tensing her core, staying stiff and upright so that she could stay looking into my eyes. I didn’t know what she was seeing there, but I hoped it was enough to convince her that I could and would help.

I focused on the Grey Winds clogging her throat and ushered them away with a mental pull, allowing her to take the first full, chest-heaving breath she had in minutes.

GASP.

She was still shaking. The jitters hadn’t stopped, and I could tell that the drugs were still coursing through her system, but her eyes never left mine. Her tongue slipped out from between cracked and bloodied lips, wetting the dry skin, before a humorless, yellowing grin formed.

“... I get ya,” she rasped, turning to the side and letting out a loud, decidedly unhealthy cough. When she turned back to me, her grin seemed more certain - less bitter. “If you’re actually offerin’ me a way outta that shitshow of a gang… offerin’ to get me away from him, I ain’t gonna kick my feet and cry about it. ‘Least not ‘till the withdrawals start hittin’ me. I’m kinda fucked up right now.”

There was a warning in her voice, one that I recognized and acknowledged. This was probably one of her very brief flashes of sobriety and common-sense before she relapsed again. If I wanted to make this work, Panacea’s help was a need, not a want.

“You’d be surprised at what superpowers can do to a stubborn woman’s immune system,” I smirked, standing to my full height.

Squealer winced in pain, her body forcibly moving up alongside mine as I stood to my feet. “Owww, watch the fuckin’ hair! Bastard.”

“Wash the fucking hair,” I corrected, letting go of her greasy ponytail and wiping my hands on my pants leg. I was due a Hysh cleansing, but that involved bright light and possible witnesses, so I was more focused on moving forward with the night.

I took a step back and looked at Squealer again. She was slouching, eyes shadowed and body shivering, but she wasn’t running - and she wasn’t backing down beneath my gaze, either. There was still fight left in the woman - fight that didn’t involve manic, meth-addled rage. I just had to coax it out.

Squealer is feeling hopeful. Squealer is feeling self-hatred. Squealer is feeling happy. Squealer is feeling sad. Squealer’s emotions are shifting quickly. Squealer is feeling cold-

‘Right,’ I thought, glancing over her clothes - or lack thereof. Torn booty shorts that had her ass half hanging out the back, an oil-stained crop top that probably used to be white, and dirty biker boots. It was probably pushing fifty degrees right now.

“You good?” I asked, tilting my head.

Squealer’s responding scowl was both sarcastic and pissed off.

Shit, and here comes the mood-swings.

“The fuck does it look like, ‘Boss’? Kidnapped, thrown around, and strangled by some self righteous hero, all in the same night - clearly I’m doin’ peachy fuckin’ keen.” she snarled, a body-wracking cough sending tremors through her body. She spat a discolored wad of saliva to the side and grimaced. When she spoke again, her voice was noticeably calmer.

“Sorry, just- …I ain’t feelin’ too hot. ‘Specially not with these tight ass zipties. Couldn’t invest in some of those good bondage toys?”

Ignoring the forced teasing in her words, I reached forward, and…

SNAP.

A quick crouch, and-

SNAP.

Standing, I pressed the button on the side of my black earpiece and spoke quickly, ignoring the unbound Squealer’s gawking. “Avalon to HQ, I repeat; Avalon to HQ,”

It was 084’s robotic voice that responded this time. “Good evening Avalon. This is Tactical Support Unit Pod 08-”

“You don’t gotta do that whole song and dance again, lil’ buddy,” I cut him off with a smirk, turning away from Squealer and idly glancing up towards the night sky. “Do me a favor; check and see what clothing stores are open near my location. Preferably some place lowkey.”

“Affirmative. Scanning businesses near your phone’s GPS signal. Filtering for ‘clothing’, multiple results found. Sending the coordinates to your Wayfinder App.”

A ping shot through my phone. I pulled the device out and quickly scrolled to one of Cassie’s ingenious software applications - sure enough, a blue line was moving directly from the alley I was in to some spot a couple blocks away, in the direction of the hospital. How Cassie made these without having a fucking satellite in the sky, I had no idea, but I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Neither did I refuse a quick freebie from the Grimoire when it was spontaneously offered; a possible reward for me sacrificing my heroic ideals by kidnapping Squealer?

The Song Of Your Heart - Free: In addition to an improvement to your singing skills and ability to compose songs you are no longer reliant on your mouth to deliver your songs. You may freely sing and speak simultaneously, as your heart broadcasts your song (plus appropriate musical accompaniment) without necessity for such things as atmosphere, breathing, or instruments. This can be freely toggled but doesn't require further concentration once activated unless you wish to use non-Relic based singing abilities alongside it.

Not at all useful right now, or at any point unless I was planning to unleash my inner Usher, but I wasn’t one to turn down free magic. Maybe I could sneak in some sexy RnB falsetto notes while whipping the racist out of Purity - apparently me and her were a pretty hot topic on PHO. I wouldn’t know too much about it since I didn’t really have the time to browse the internet nowadays.

I was just too busy spanking drug dealers and nazis.

“Thanks buddy. Tell Cass I said she has a cute ass.”

“Affirmative. This Pod will pass Master’s correspondence over to Mistress.”

“Cool, catch you later.”

I clicked the earpiece again and turned around to meet Squealer’s wide gaze. I was quite proud that my little gamble paid off; as expected, she hadn’t run away after I turned around and left her unbound and free. It wasn’t much of a gamble, considering I would’ve seen her with my Second Sight and caught her before she could get more than a few feet away, but she probably didn’t know that.

It was the thought that counted.

“W-what the fuck was that about?” she exclaimed, pointing straight at my face - or, more specifically - my earpiece.

I blinked. “You. I can’t have my first minion freezing her oversized tits off, right? Walk with me.”

I began moving in the direction of the store. Due to my perfect recollection, I already had the route memorized, meaning I didn’t have to constantly look down at my phone. It was at this point that the Grimoire reached a hook out to another ability, and was swept away by its pure breadth. I whistled silently; the charge I was starting to build back up was getting hefty, but definitely not hefty for whatever monster that was.

It took Squealer only a brief few moments of staring at my back, during which I assumed she honestly debated just turning tail and running as drug heads often did, but fleeting common sense and her dwindling high combined together managed to prevail and force her to follow stiffly after me.

“Woah, jackass - who the hell said I was gonna be a fuckin’ minion? What happened to ‘respect’? ‘Cause that ain’t sounding like respect!”

“Minions get respect when they earn it - definitely more than you’d get being the Merchant’s gloryhole princess. Wear your new title with pride.”

Squealer gritted her teeth at my abrasive bluntness, eyes twitching in that crazy way an addict’s did whenever they entertained some fucked up, intrusive thought, but it simmered down quickly. Smart woman.

“Fuck you.” she spat, literally. Fortunately not at me, or else I’d have to smash her face in it like a disobedient dog.

I wrinkled my nose. She was gonna have to learn some manners, whether she was in her ‘right state of mind’ or not.

“Minion Code, paragraph one section one,” I began, turning around and shoving my hands in my pockets. My easy pace didn’t shift in the slightest as I seamlessly moved around trash cans and debris like I had eyes in the back of my head.

The sight clearly made her uneasy, but she continued to scratch at the sores on her arms, watching me warily. “What?”

“You want respect, you give it to me first. In substantial amounts.”

She snorted, eyes practically rolling into the back of her skull. “Yeah fuckin’ right. You talk a big game, but I bet my sweet ass you’re a limp dicked asshole like Skid-”

I disappeared.

It was fortunate that we hadn’t made it out of the alleyway just yet. There was a homeless guy sleeping on a cardboard box, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I reappeared right in front of the yapping woman, shoving her against the grimy wall of the alleyway. Her back roughly slammed against the cool brick, forcing the breath out of her lungs right before my arm darted up to restrain her. The cold metal of my gauntlets pushed against her neck, hard enough to make her panic and instinctively scramble to get in a full breath. She gasped, whether from shock or fear I did not necessarily care, and I smiled down at her. It was a sarcastic one this time.

“I’m not a villain, believe it or not - but I can act like one tonight if you want me to. Try it again.”

She went to say something, and Hidden Intuition whispered at the back of my mind like a tattle telling child as it highlighted different miniscule signs in her facial expression and body language.

Squealer is challenging you. Squealer is mentally unstable. Squealer is aroused.

In both a sudden burst of annoyance and a calculated decision, I called on Aqshy to coat my body in its heated Wind. As soon as I felt its presence, I punched the wall beside her head.

CRUNCH!

Brick crumbled beneath my fist, breaking off in large, jagged fragments that dropped to the ground amongst heavy puffs of dust.

Squealer inhaled sharply, and that dull look that had started to build in her eyes ever since I had grabbed her by the hair abruptly disappeared. With my body so close to hers, my knee had inevitably been forced up between her legs. At that moment, I felt something begin to dampen the extremely thin fabric covering her pussy.

I dialed back Hidden Intuition before it could enlighten me as to what the liquid was. Regardless of what it could be, I was distantly disgusted.

“Try it again.” I repeated, a raspy growl burgeoning at the back of my throat.

“... Yes daddy,” she whispered breathlessly, barely able to get the whispered words out from behind my arm.

I blinked. What?

“What?”

Squealer’s chest rattled weakly in an attempt to respond, and I leaned off of her a bit. “I said ‘yes sir’, boss man. I’m a lot of things, a lot of ‘em not good, but I ain’t suicidal.” She tried to grin again, but fear and unsureness made the expression flinty and fleeting. “Maybe you can do something with this dumpster fire of a city after all.”

I snorted, moving back a few steps and glancing over to my left. The homeless guy was still sleeping away in his palace of discarded rags and damp cardboard, so I figured I hadn’t been too loud. Either that or he was dead.

“Better,” I murmured dryly, turning back to give Squealer a deadpan look. I could already tell that she’d be an eccentric one to deal with. Fortunately, I wasn’t unfamiliar with handling troublesome bitches. “Let’s get the hell outta here, grab you something warmer to wear.”

Without waiting for a response, I began making my way out of the alleyway again. I was quickly growing sick of the scent of refuse and unwashed bodies.

“I guess I ain’t one to refuse free clothes,” Squealer muttered raspily, rubbing at her bruised throat and following a few steps behind me.

I left a five dollar bill on the homeless guy’s unconscious body as we moved past him.

‘Next stop,’ I thought, bracing myself against a particularly stiff breeze, ‘Designer Surplus, here we come. Time to see what this new perk can really do.’

I’d pay for all the clothes I inevitably gobbled up since I had a few hundred bucks burning a hole in my wallet. Master of Disguise was practically begging to be abused, and as someone who generally took decent care of his looks, I was pretty excited to try it out. Custom outfit loadouts that had no real limit? I was like a character in the fucking Sims! It was unfortunate that the Grimoire only offered it to me after I had already attacked the Merchants, barely noticed in the melee of it all. Infiltrating their party as a homeless guy would’ve been pretty fun.

‘I wonder how many outfits I can get away with grabbing before they get suspicious?’

There was only one way to find out.

_________________________________

Powers Accepted:

The Song of Your Heart: In addition to an improvement to your singing skills and ability to compose songs you are no longer reliant on your mouth to deliver your songs. You may freely sing and speak simultaneously, as your heart broadcasts your song (plus appropriate musical accompaniment) without necessity for such things as atmosphere, breathing, or instruments. This can be freely toggled but doesn't require further concentration once activated unless you wish to use non-Relic based singing abilities alongside it.

OOC: I rolled my first 1000 CP perk and didn’t have the CP to grab it. It was from DC Occult. To be fair, I don’t know just how good it was because the description was a bit meh, but still…damn it!