Snek is a Good Boy Pt 19 (Patreon)

New Friends and Old

[A/N 1: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: I apologise for how late this chapter is coming out. The month has been horrendous.]

Far From Earth Bet

Canary

"Hey."

Paige paused as she stepped out through the theatre's rear door. The guardsman whose job it was to patrol that area stood across the street, looking relaxed in the light of the everfire torch mounted on the wall above him. He wasn't the one who had spoken; that person was leaning against the wall alongside the door, far enough away to be non-threatening. Her arms were folded and she had her head turned to look at Paige.

"Uh … hello?" Paige asked. "Can I help you?"

The strange woman straightened up and brushed her tunic down. She was tall and elegant even in the roughspun clothing, with a long neck and long limbs. Her brown hair had been tied back with a leather cord. "I guess … I just wanted to meet you. Say hi. Maybe chat a bit, if you wanted to. Name's Elmora."

The phrasing was oddly familiar; Paige tilted her head slightly. "Wait a minute … where are you from?"

Elmora chuckled. "The Big Apple, originally. New York, New York. The city so conceited, it had to be repeated." She nodded toward Paige. "I never got to attend any of your concerts, but I liked your music. Some of your angrier songs could've been written about me."

Paige recalled her 'angrier' songs. These had been written after her boyfriend had broken up with her. He'd also been cheating on her with her manager, and the two of them had been working to sabotage her gigs, so she'd taken some satisfaction in booting both of them out of her life. Her gigs had improved after that, as had her position on the charts. She still wasn't sure whether this was due to the content of the songs she'd written in the aftermath, or the departure of the people trying to torpedo her career for their own personal gain.

"I'm glad you liked them," she said cautiously. "I wasn't in a great place when I wrote them, but it helped to express what I was feeling." She paused. "So … who were you, back on Bet, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um …" Elmora turned her head slightly, putting her face in shadow from the everfire torch mounted above the theatre's rear door. "Promise you won't run screaming? Because I'm not that person. Not anymore."

"That's kind of ominous." Paige forced a giggle, then glanced across the road at the guard, who was watching the interaction with what she gauged to be bored interest. "So, I'm guessing you were a villain?" Elmora didn't seem to be armed, nor did she appear crazy, but Paige had encountered unhinged fans during her time. Anyone could snap and be dangerous.

"I was, yeah. Fourteen times over." Elmora drew a deep breath, then let it out. "Up in the Castle, they explained how having powers fucks with your head. I enjoyed being Quarrel. It felt right. It felt good. Hurting people. Killing people. But the Master rolled that back when he took my powers away. Like I said, I'm not that person anymore."

There was what Paige judged to be real regret in Elmora's voice. She'd heard it enough times in her own voice to recognise it. "That's … good to hear. So, um, you said 'fourteen times'. Did you rebrand a dozen times or something? Because I … wait. Fourteen?" That number rang a really ominous bell in her mind.

Elmora must have accurately read her expression, because she nodded. "Yeah. As Quarrel, I wasn't really famous. But then I killed the Butcher."

"Oh." Paige knew she'd gotten it right. Everyone had heard of the Butcher. If you killed the Butcher, you became the Butcher. And standing in front of her was the woman who had headed one of the most violent gangs in the continental United States. She suppressed the urge to back away. She said that wasn't her anymore. I should really give her a chance.

"Yeah. 'Oh'." Elmora grimaced, probably at the look on Paige's face. "This was a bad idea. I should go."

"No, no. It's alright." Paige really hoped it would be. The temptation to talk to someone from Bet was strong, even if she was a villain—had been a villain, she admonished herself. "How did you get here from Bet, anyway? Was it Snek?"

"Yeah, it was Snek. And Mouse Protector, but mainly Snek." Elmora shrugged. "They put down the Teeth like it was light exercise, then Snek took me to his Master to get all the voices out of my head, and my powers too. Since then, I guess I've been figuring out who I am, all over again."

"I suppose I have, too." Paige glanced back up at the theatre. "The Master of the Castle helped me sign up for the Bardic College. Fortunately, a lot of the stuff I already know can transfer across. I'll be graduating soon, and I'll be able to go out and set up my own performances. Do some travelling while I'm at it."

Elmora tilted her head slightly. "Isn't that a bit dangerous? I mean, right now you've got the College backing you. Nobody messes with a Bardic journeyman. But once you've been awarded your Harp and sash and leave town, you're on your own. And trust me when I say this from my own personal experience; there are assholes everywhere. Especially once you leave here and go out into the big wide world."

The Harp she was referring to was a large harp-headed brooch used to fasten the Bardic sash across the body for display during performances, and thus advertise that the player was a graduate of the Bardic college. The sash itself was provided to the Bard in question by the Weaver's Guild; it was woven to their personal specification, incorporating whatever designs they felt were most fitting for them. It didn't matter that most Bards didn't use the harp at all. It had been the symbol of the College for untold years, and that was all there was to it.

"Yeah, I know," Paige admitted. "I was thinking of just sticking to the main roads and bigger cities." There was danger there too, she knew, but the call was irresistible. "Besides, I do know a little Bardic magic."

"Yeah, just enough to get into trouble with." Elmora folded her arms. "Got a better idea. I'm not far from graduating as a bowyer and fletcher. At least, I know enough now that I can keep working at it on my own, and I already know how to kick ass. We can travel together. You play your music, I'll watch your back, and we split the take. Hell, I'll even take an Oathbond so you don't have to worry about travelling with an ex-supervillain."

Paige blinked in surprise. Oathbonding was a simple but powerful spell that could be performed by some casters, to ensure that any two given people carried out a specified agreement over a particular time. Both parties had to be fully aware of all parts of the agreement, and in agreement with them, before the spell would take hold. There were several people in the town who would perform one for a fee. The fact that Elmora was offering to participate in one meant she was serious.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure." Elmora smiled crookedly. "Might even be fun. What do you say?"

Slowly, Paige nodded. "Sure. It'll definitely be better than travelling on my own, anyway."

"Excellent." Elmora glanced up and down the street. "Walk you to your lodgings?"

"Thanks. I'd like that. So, which of my songs did you like best, anyway?"

"Well, Tears Like Acid Rain just cut straight to my heart where you said …"

They strolled off down the street under the light of the everfire torches, their voices fading away into the distance.

<><>

Glory Girl

Vicky perched atop the Forsberg Gallery, looking out over the city. Part of her was listening for sirens or other signs that anything was amiss, but most of her thought process had been taken over by wondering about the future. Specifically, the future for her and New Wave once the Protectorate moved most of its capes out of Brockton Bay.

It was no longer even an open secret that Brockton Bay's criminal underworld had given up the ghost and moved to greener pastures. Everyone knew that the few villains left in town were keeping their heads all the way down, lest they draw the attention of the city's weirdest new celebrity: the giant snake called Snek. Once a booming Wild West of supervillain activity, the city was now more like a ghost town when it came to finding so much as a mugger to yell at.

If things got much quieter, she'd heard, the ENE branches of the PRT and Protectorate were going to shutter their premises entirely and hand over operations to Boston. As it was, they were already drafting lists of who would be transferred to other departments and who would stay behind in Brockton Bay for the duration. She kind of understood why, but she didn't have to like it.

Because Dean was one of the Wards slated to be transferred.

She sniffled—because of the chilly air this high, and totally not because she was about to cry—and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. It wasn't fair. Their relationship had been as steady as it ever was, helped a lot by the drop in crime which meant they could hang out together free of stress, and now this was happening. Just because Director Piggot wants to take early retirement …

No, she decided. That's not fair on the Director. Emily Piggot was a hardass all the way down the line, that was true, but she wasn't one to shirk her duty. If the ENE branch was being shut down—later rather than sooner, but still—and she was retiring, it wasn't from her choice.

Still, it sucked.

She'd spoken to Dean in the aftermath of the Fallen attack—too late to meet Snek, dammit!—and he'd actually supported the move. He and Chris had been cleared of any lingering Master/Stranger influence (apparently, Valefor and the enigmatic woman called Mama Mathers had been eaten alive) but the PRT higher-ups wanted him to undergo psychological testing for other side-effects. She had a particular fear of being Mastered herself, so that unfortunately made sense to her. It was just that he had to go to Boston or New York for the testing, which effectively meant a one-way transfer.

To add insult to injury, the adult members of New Wave had decided that New Wave would remain in Brockton Bay as 'hometown heroes', keeping the flag flying or whatever they were supposed to do. The unspoken suggestion was that Vicky should stay with them, even though she'd been entertaining thoughts of splitting off and joining the Wards to be closer to Dean. This was looking more and more inviting by the day, especially since even Amy had floated the idea once or twice of striking out on her own once she'd saved enough money, and going into the healing business as a rogue cape.

The trouble was, every time she'd considered her future, in her mind's eye Ames had always been there as well. Sisters in all but blood, they'd grown up together, sharing confidences and fears alike. Even after they'd both triggered with entirely different powers, they still had what Vicky considered to be a workable dynamic. But like her relationship with Dean and with the rest of New Wave, this was also threatening to tear asunder. She wasn't sure which one to save, or even if any of them could be.

I wish I knew what to do.

The whisper of scales on the roof behind her was barely enough warning before a huge serpentine head slid into place alongside her. It turned slightly, and a gold-fringed eye peered down at her. "Hello, gold princcesss girl. You look ssad. Can Ssnek help?"

She jumped a little, because who didn't jump when a sixty-foot constrictor decided to show up alongside them on top of the roof, twenty-six floors above ground? "H-hello, Snek," she replied, determined to show that she wasn't rattled, even though she was. "I'm not sure that you can, to be honest. Thanks for the offer, though."

Perched on Snek's broad head, the 'Snek fedora' made famous by the news presented a puzzle that she wasn't quite ready to question. She also decided to not touch the name 'gold princess girl' with a ten-foot barge pole. If Eric got wind of that, I'd never hear the end of it.

"Ssnek likess to help. Gold princcesss girl wantss to come chasse bad men with Ssnek?" The sheer innocent joy in the question drew her in, very likely as he'd known it would.

Despite the funk she was feeling at the moment, the notion perked her up. "Where are you going to find bad men at this time of night?"

The smile on Snek's features broadened even further. "Ssnek can alwayss find bad men. But gold princcesss girl will have to ride Ssnek'ss neck."

"Uh … I can fly, you know." She lifted off the rooftop and landed on her feet. "You don't need to carry me."

"Ssnek knowss. But Ssnek travelss through wriggle-holess. Workss besst if gold princcesss girl iss riding."

Vicky wasn't sure what Snek meant, but Mouse Protector could teleport, and there were pictures all over the net of her riding Snek into battle against villains. If it was good enough for the mouse-themed hero, she decided, it was good enough for her.

"Okay, then," she said. "Let's go do this thing." Stepping over to Snek, she swung her leg over the snake's broad neck.

"Gold princcesss girl hold on." Snek dived off the building, a portal opening up in front of him.

Oh, so that's how he gets around. But by then Vicky was too busy holding on.

<><>

Low Earth Orbit

The Third considered the situation as it had been doing for quite some time, running simulations and determining options. Things were shaking up on the planet below, though not quite in the ways the Third would have liked them to. The destabilisation effects introduced by the Third and its counterparts were in turn being re-stabilised by an anomalous entity, occasionally intruding on the local space-time from coordinates that the Third had no way of reaching.

Worse, the anomalous entity threw all the Third's observations askew, merely by existing. Its actions could not be predicted, nor backtraced. The only way to observe it was by directly detecting its actions via the mental activity of other life-forms in real time, or by carefully observing the environment and detecting where it had been.

Several potentially useful shard-hosts had been removed from consideration while the Third was pondering this, but the most damaging action had come about when the anomalous entity had engaged the Second. Not content with merely defeating and driving off the Second, the entity had destroyed it, apparently consuming both its outer form and inner core.

This could not stand.

The Third had no experience in dealing with such entities—that, indeed, was why the creature was designated as 'anomalous'—but there existed several avenues by which it believed it could draw the anomalous entity in close enough to attack and destroy it. One potentially effective course of action involved the shard host with whom Snek associated most often.

And so, it refined its plans. Once they were complete, it set them in motion.

<><>

Mouse Protector

It had been a long week. Diane was looking forward to having a quiet night in, maybe watching a movie then faceplanting on her bed and sleeping through until mid-morning or later. If the world needed saving in the meantime, they could call on someone else. It didn't matter that her powers gave her the agility and vitality of a twenty-year-old; rooftop running for the sake of it just didn't appeal anymore.

Pulling a brush through her long curly hair, she wandered out into the living room in her pyjamas and settled down on the sofa with her feet up and a bowl of vaguely nutritious snacks on her lap. She was just reaching for the remote with her free hand when the song reached her ears. It was faint at first, then became more and more audible as it went on. When she recognised it, her eyes widened and she bounced up off the sofa, spraying her snacks everywhere.

Fuck! Simurgh! Her thoughts were slow and dragging in contrast to the urgency she felt. Already, she could feel the twisting, turning of her thought patterns inside her head, even though there were no Endbringer sirens sounding that she could hear. Got to teleport! Got to get away! She had to tell people that the Simurgh could attack without warning.

No. The voice was part of the singing, yet separate enough to freeze her where she was. A directive settled into place: she was not to teleport. Part of her mind accepted this as the way it should be, while a deeper part raged and fought vainly against the cage being built around it.

Her attitudes continued to change, even as she calmly went to the stand where she'd stored the armour granted her by the Master of the Castle. One piece at a time, she donned it, moving as smoothly as she ever did. Once she was finished, she drew the sword from its sheath. The Simurgh-overlay of her personality smiled viciously as she examined the blade, then slid it back into its sheath.

As she opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape, she felt the Simurgh allow the tiny, trapped portion of her to express itself one last time.

Snek … it whispered. Help me.

With the bait set out, even that part was overwritten, and Mouse Protector was all monster.

<><>

Glory Girl

Vicky wasn't sure which city they were in, but she didn't much care either. This was fun. Snek definitely had the knack of finding bad people in the act of doing bad things, bypassing the entire 'patrolling for hours and hours' bullshit altogether. And he wasn't even finding pickpockets or smash and grab artists; while mildly satisfying to deal with, they were usually people in a bad way themselves.

No, the people Snek was zeroing in on were the predators; specifically, the ones who preyed on women and girls. The ones Vicky hated with every fibre of her being.

They weren't all capes, or even mostly so, but that didn't matter. For instance, the bunch she and Snek were going after right now consisted of one guy in a mask and costume and four of his buddies, unmasked, in regular clothing. Vicky didn't recognise the costume, and didn't care enough to ask.

They'd been menacing a bunch of girls dressed for the nightclubs who had apparently wandered down the wrong street, demanding money or worse. Again, Vicky cared exceedingly little about the actual details. She was a broad-strokes sort of girl, and she was quite willing to use these assholes to sweep up the whole street in broad strokes if she had to, in order to get her message across. The message being: 'Don't attack women.'

Instead of the "Shit! Capes!" that she usually heard when she came upon such a crime in progress, one of the sidekicks—or minions, being the affiliates of a villain rather than a hero—pointed and shouted, "What the fuck is that?"

She trusted that he was referring to Snek rather than her; flying capes were almost ubiquitous in pop culture, for obvious reasons. Still, she had to wonder what rock he'd been living under that he hadn't heard of Snek or seen his image on TV. Especially since Snek had eaten Leviathan.

The PRT could even apparently get in contact with him on PHO via his friend 'Good Girl Riley', whoever that was. Through her, he'd confirmed that he was going to keep coming back to Brockton Bay because 'Snek friends live there'. Which was apparently the only reason the PRT was willing to scale back operations in the ENE region. When Snek moved into an area, crime moved out.

"It's Snek, you moron!" yelled the cape. "Run!" Not waiting to see if his friends did as they were told, he turned and started bounding off down the street, jumping higher and higher with each step with smoke and flame billowing around his feet and ankles.

"I've got the cape!" Vicky advised Snek, then powered after the fleeing asshole. She wasn't sure if his power was just super-leaping or if he could transition to actual powered flight, but she still didn't actually care. Just as he was about to touch down after a leap that had carried him sixty feet, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and flew upward with him. "Hi," she said.

"Let me go, you bitch!" he yelped, twisting around to point his hands up toward her.

She knew what that meant; whatever Blaster power he was using for his Mover effect was also very likely present in his hands. So she let go of the back of his costume and grabbed him by the hands. "Go ahead," she invited him. "I'm invincible, and I will break your hands if you try it." As an added incentive to behave, she gave him a shot of her aura.

He didn't try it.

When she got back to where the girls were, Snek was also there, apparently lecturing the four would-be muggers. "Hurting ladiess iss wrong," he said sternly as Vicky swooped down with the last of the group. "Ssnek doess not approve. Ssnek eatss bad men."

"Here we go," Vicky reported, dropping the cape on his ass next to the others, then addressing the girls. "Has anyone called the cops and PRT yet?"

"I have," said one of the girls, raising her hand. "They said they'd be here really soon. Thanks." She paused. "Uh … are you really Glory Girl?"

Vicky nodded. Nobody was asking Snek if he was really Snek; it would be really hard to fake being a sixty-foot snake. "That's me. Snek and me, we're just going out and about, stopping bad guys where we find them."

While the would-be muggers sulked, Snek and Vicky posed for selfies with the girls; Snek seemed to enjoy making friends more than anything else. The arrival of the authorities was the signal for Vicky to go back to professional mode, verifying once more that she was indeed Glory Girl. Just as the cape was loaded (looking very unhappy indeed) into the PRT van—it turned out they were in Minneapolis—Snek raised his head.

"Mouss!" he said, sounding more urgent than he had all night. "Ssnek musst help!"

"Mouse Protector is in trouble?" Vicky felt a surge of adrenaline. "Where?"

"Ssnek will go to. Gold princcesss girl will come help?"

"Well, duh." Lofting into the air, Vicky settled astride Snek's neck. "Let's go!"

"Gold princcesss girl hold on!" Opening up a portal, Snek blurred through it.

[A/N: Yes, evil cliffhangers are evil. Mwahahaha.]

Part 20