The Luckiest Girl In The World

There were a lot of preparations to be made and slightly less than ten hours in which to make them, if all of Max's calculations were correct. There were spells to cast and rituals to devise and worst-case scenarios to prep for, which meant this was the absolute worst time to be interrupted for nonsense.

Which was, of course, why a crowd chose that moment to flow around the south corner of Gower Street. There were about three dozen of them, including children holding hands with parents. At the front of the crowd was Christan Nguyen. She was talking with a few people around her, and every several steps she'd raise the Bible in her hand a little higher for emphasis. When she saw the heroes, she waved and the crowd shift in their direction.

Kathy took an uneasy step backwards. Ms. Nguyen had been perfectly pleasant every time they'd spoken, but she still left Kathy vaguely uncomfortable, like she was a plucked chicken at the butcher's and Ms. Nguyen was waiting for the price to go down just the right amount.

( A chance meeting... )


[Preplayed with the darling not_every_mage and adapted from Chapter Twenty-Three of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFB and NFI. Previous post next post]

In the wake of Josh's escape, the Mount looked like an anthill that had been kicked over. More soldiers were called to the top of the Big Wall, trying to keep a lookout in case he came back, or get a sense of which direction he ran in, or just to feel like they were doing something. The civilians weren't much different, trying to stare past the exes to see what the Thing in the Cellar had been. Everywhere there was a hubbub of noise and movement and confusion--except around each of the Heroes. They were still, calm, quiet--but then, they knew exactly what the Thing had been. Instead, their eyes were all on Stealth as she laid a hand on Captain Freedom's forearm and murmured something, her head giving a minute nod towards the Rodenberry Building.

So, a meeting then.

Kathy didn't know whether she had been intended to be included of if Stealth just didn't think it was worth kicking anybody out for. Either way, ten minutes after Stealth had left the Big Wall, she was ensconced in a chair high up on in the penthouse, with Raven as a big, black bird perching docilely on her shoulder. Kathy didn't realize it, but this was the same room her friends had gathered twenty-one months ago when Stealth had recruited them into the war against Rodney.

( In the room where it happens )

[Preplayed with the amazing-as-always tigerundercover and adapted from Chapter of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFB, NFI, OOC welcomed. Previous post Next post]

Kathy was pacing again. She couldn't help it. She knew it was frustrating Max to no end, but she was finding it real hard to work up a single fuck about that. She was trapped here, in her worst nightmare come to fucking life, and it was all his fault. If he couldn't handle a little pacing, that was on him.

Okay, it was also bugging Nick, too. She could see the little twitch around his eye with every step of her shoes on the tile--especially since she was making sure to clack them firmly as part of her 'Fuck You Max Hale' plan. She felt a little bad about Nick's annoyance, but hey, it wasn't like she asked him to hover. After news had spread about Tori's death earlier in the evening, he hadn't let her alone. He'd appointed himself her guardian angel, so he was just going to have to deal with a little pacing.

Or a lot of pacing.

The clacking of her shoes was a lot better than the clacking of the teeth outside. Now there was a noise that could drive someone mad. Kathy knew; she could hear the chattering of teeth all night long. Earplugs and loud music didn't help; that just meant that if anything happened, she wouldn't be able to hear it. If Legion were smart, he'd send out just a few exes late at night with ladders to climb over. Not a lot, not a loud invasion, but a few. Just enough to sneak past sleepy guards. Just enough to bite and raise an army inside here. Kathy wasn't going to give him the chance to get smart and sneak up on her, oh no. Even if it meant not sleeping at night because of the constant clack clack clacking by her chamber wall.

Clack clack clack. Fifteen steps from one wall of this room to the other. Clack clack clack Fifteen steps back. Clack clack clack. Fifteen steps to the far wall again.

Kathy was aware she might be going a little crazy. That was fine, so long as she took people with her.

( Some surprises on all sides )


Later, Kathy would only remember the rest of the night in snapshots. Nick would catch her eyes and she'd stare back, helpless and unmoving, until he broke eye contact again. And then she would pass out immediately into a dark and dreamless sleep. She woke up several times as they sped across the rooftops of LA, Nick thrilled to be Gorgon once more, up however many tiers he could get from her. She was like cocaine, he told her once; a hit from her was the best and purest high he could imagine, shooting him up so many tiers it was hard to keep count. She put the 'speed' in 'speedball,' apparently. He needed three more hits from her to cross the distance between the Mount and his old apartment and she crashed out after each one. She didn't wake up from the fourth time he drained her until they were in his apartment, waking up in his dusty bed to the sound of him crashing to the floor, his legs giving out at the same time as the energy from his last hit wore away. She must have caught his eyes again, because the next thing she knew, the sky was lightening to the east and they were running again, his dead cellphone tucked away in the harness with her, both strapped tightly to his back.

But the run home wasn't as fun and carefree as the trip there. At some point, Max's spell must have run out because they weren't just running, they were fleeing, being chased by exes that were ringed with blue flame, mouths open wide to show rows of shark-like teeth and claws made only to rend and tear. And Nick was slowing, dropping from tier to tier and Cairax's exes gained ground. One time, one of them got close enough that she could feel the heat of the fire on her cheek, smell the scent of rot that rose from it before it missed a jump and plummeted between buildings. "Last time, baby," Nick said, turning around to drain her one more time. And as the world floated away again, Kathy realized she was glad that she was going under again, that if Nick slipped or tripped or just didn't go fast enough, she'd be unconscious when Cairax got his talons on them.

She woke in the Mount, curled up on the box spring in her apartment - her first night in the Mount, she'd put the mattress on the floor in front of the door as an easy barricade - Nick's phone plugged into a charger and attached to the wall. Bleary-eyed but smiling for the first time since she'd gotten to Los Angeles, Kathy opened up Nick's contacts to see who on the island she could call.

[NFI, NFB, all the love to OOC. Previous Post. Next Posts here and here.]

Kathy was starting to really like Captain Freedom. He was a lot less smothering than the other heroes were, most of whom saw her as something like 'our former comrade we let die.' Even Stealth, who admitted to being terrible with people, made it a habit to check in on Kathy several times a day for various 'reasons.' But Captain Freedom didn't hover, didn't accidentally call her Banzai, didn't seem like he was always about one pep talk away from asking her to team up.

On that of that, he was just...calm. He was thoughtful and patient and disciplined. By her second week in the Mount, Kathy had realized that she'd rather spend time talking to him than pretty much anybody else behind the Big Wall.

Today, they'd met up by accident heading over to lunch. Walking with the captain, Kathy had noticed, helped keep the whispers down and the randos away. More and more people were taking guesses at who she was--had been?--and the excuses to come up and talk to her were getting pretty thin. She could imagine why people would be so excited to talk to an ex-hero come back to life, but some people were getting pretty creepy about it.

( This place just kept getting better and better. )

[Text taken and adapted from Chapter 15 of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFB, NFI, OOC is made of sparkles. Previous post Next Post]

The room's proper name--the one taped under one of Stealth's countless security monitors--was Cell Nine.

Cell Nine was in the basement of the Hart Building, twelve feet on each side, all steel bars lined with heavy chain link fencing both inside and out. When it was done, every window on every floor was boarded up, inside and out. All the doors were chained shut, including the fire door on the roof, and all the locks welded shut. The only entrance was the front door on 3rd Street, and it had four padlocks on it. Two were keyed, two had combinations, and two guards stood there at all times. Each of them had only one key and one combination.

Even the guards didn't know what was in the Cellar, rumors just called it The Thing. All they knew was that they had strict orders. If the Thing - whatever it was - tried to get out of the building, they weren't supposed to hesitate or ask questions. They were just supposed to shoot until they were out of ammunition.

( Visiting a monster )

[Greatly adapted from Chapter Three of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Trigger warning for references to previous attempts at suicide. Previous post and Next Post]

Catching Banzai hadn't been as easy as one would like. In the two years since she'd died, they'd forgotten just how fast she was. And she was panic-running, flat out, not bothering to converse energy or breath. If she'd known the layout of the Rodenberry Building, they might not have caught her until she'd made it outside, halfway through the Mount.

But St. George had caught her up against a pair of locked doors and his impervious skin held up against her kicks and blows and scratches as well as it did bites from exes. He was glad he was the one who caught her, though; some of her attacks would have incapacitated anyone else if they'd landed. He just held her in the loose circle of his arms and let her wear herself out trying to get away.

He didn't take the heel to the groin or the gouge towards the eyes or the elbow to the throat personally. He wasn't even entirely sure that she could see him. Her eyes were wide and blank, constantly darting around, refusing to focus on his face. St. George didn't know how much Banzai remembered, but from the intensity of her reaction, he was betting it was a lot more than anyone had hoped.

When she finally sagged in his arms, exhausted and whimpering, he scooped her up and carried her back towards Max's room, shooing away volunteers and nosy patients. Max Hale's return to the living had brought up a lot of goddamn questions and ( it was time to get some answers. )



The North Gate was a few blocks from the hospital. Like all the entrances through the Big Wall, there were a few hundred exes and the air crackled with the sound of chattering teeth. Half of them pressed against the gate. The rest staggered through the street. Kathy made a small sound in the back of her throat, clutching St. George's hand in a white-knuckled grip, but her steps didn't falter.

"Baby, you don't have to see this," Nick said, his wheelchair rolling along beside them. "You could wait in the hospital with Danielle--"

"No," Kathy interrupted sharply. "I need to see. I need to know."

In the middle of Bronson was a smoking set of lines, a scar in the pavement stretching from one side of the road to the other. The superheated material had turned a fresh, deep black that stood out from the faded charcoal of the street. Three exes had been slashed in half bu Zzzap's burning touch, too slow to get out of the way and too mindless to realize their danger. Steam still trailed from their severed bodies. A spray of gore marked where one had boiled and exploded.

To parallel lines marked out a ring fifteen feet across. Inside the double circle was what looked like two triangles--or maybe an hourglass--surrounded by squiggles.

( So, about those symbols... )

[Text taken and adapted from Chapter 13 of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFB, NFI, OOC is made of sparkles.]

The drumbeat of the dead echoed across the lot like a relentless overseer on an ancient slave ship. Gorgon's confident smirk faded and even Stealth seemed shaken.

Below them, the exes parted to let the trucks drive up. Over a dozen of them, all spray-painted with different shades of green. Seventeens rode on the roof and hung out the windows. At the head of the parade, Rodney Cesares rode in the back of a National Guard truck decorated with skulls and a large neon-green 17 on the hood. They whooped and hollered and fired their guns into the sky.

( And it continues... )

[NFI, NFB, OOC welcome. Preplayed by the masterful crew represented here, whoisalicewhite, tigerundercover/vdistinctive, rebelseekspizza, not_every_mage, and soniaroadsqueen. Bits of text adapted from Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines. Last of the posts for the day, though check out the comments for the last bit. Warning for NPC death]

After Gorgon had hauled Josh away, Stealth had given the Fandom contingent very strict orders to stay put. The Mount was already a powder keg, the last thing it needed was an errant match in the form of a stranger that no one had seen enter and certainly didn't look like they'd spent the past nine months eking out a bare survival. Especially if any one of those strangers decided to mention the little bombshell Josh had dropped on them earlier.

Less than an hour had passed before Gorgon came to collect them, bringing them upstairs to Stealth's office. A meeting was still in progress, with a blueprint of the map hung up on the wall and the other superheroes clustered around it, Zzzap remaining a slight distance away to avoid charring paper or blistering flesh. "--walls are still secure, the fences are all reinforced, so the most likely attack points will be the Melrose Gate, Bronson, and North Gower."

"What about Van Ness or Marathon?" St. George asked.

"Too far east and north for a major assault," she said. "We can leave regular guard units there. If the Seventeens have done any reconnaissance of their own, they will know Marathon is sealed." She glanced up at Gorgon and nodded sharply to the chairs surrounding the large table. He gestured for their guests to sit.

"Bronson's sealed, too," Cerberus, the large mecha suit, pointed out.

"Sealed to regular exes. If they are being guided by Cesares, we must assume they will be smarter and more resourceful. It is the next closest gate after Melrose, the fence is low, and it is a very tempting target."

"I'd still like to see extra people at Van Ness," Gorgon said, slouching against a wall now that his tour guide duty was done.

"We're starting to run low on capable and trained people," Stealth said, her mask not facing him or any other hero, but the group at the table. "But it's possible that we have the means to make up the difference."

( Jumping the gun a bit, eh Stealth? )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Preplayed by whoisalicewhite, tigerundercover/vdistinctive, rebelseekspizza, not_every_mage, and soniaroadsqueen, all of whom I owe drinks to at this point. Bits of text adapted from Chapter Twenty-Four of Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines, ]

The planned ambush of the Mount had been foiled, the Seventeens too impatient to wait until the gate had opened enough to let Mean Green out. The survivors had successfully routed the gangmembers, Gorgon dropping about half of the group before they'd gotten close. And, unbeknownst to most of the Mount, they'd even managed to collect three prisoners and were keeping them down in the holding cells by the Lansing Theater. In earlier years, the solid doors had held reels of archived film. Now the solid doors kept things in instead of out. Usually, these cells served as a holding pen for people who'd gotten drunk or rowdy, participants in the occasional fistfight or someone caught stealing. Now, however, they were holding prisoners of war.

( Everything just keeps getting better )

[Content warning for attempted and completed suicide, though the act happens off-screen. Text taken from Ex-Heroes by Peter Clines, Chapters Twelve and Fourteen. NFI, NFB]

That was Kathy.

Gorgon hunched a little further in his duster, adjusting the collar once more so that it covered his ears from the wind. December in Los Angeles had nothing on December in Baltimore for miserable weather, but this morning had dawned cold and drizzly and the tall, empty buildings were acting like the world's most ex-infested wind tunnels. He paused for a second and then revised that thought. Undoubtedly, there were actual wind tunnels filled with exes at this point. Unless the wind knocked 'em all down and out of the tunnel entirely? He imagined the exes getting scattered like bowling pins and nearly smiled--

I wonder if she's cold. Because that was Kathy.

( Have some canon )

After being on edge and uncertain for a few months, some people couldn't deal with the idea of being safe or being told what to do. Sometimes they freaked out. A few of the freakouts were small, but most were like this guy--loud and convinced they could do something about it. What they often forgot was that the Mount had superheroes. And even if Gorgon didn't have the build of, say, George or Josh, he didn't need to rely on fists to take someone down. With a few leaping strides, he got ahead of the guy. Immediately, the guy raised his fists, ready to swing--and then Gorgon opened his goggles wide. The guy stood there a moment. Then his legs wobbled and he sagged. He dropped to his knees in front of Gorgon, still trapped by the hero's gaze. Strength poured out of the guy and into Gorgon, buoying him up tier after tier. His eyes watered and he started to shake and it wasn't until Cerberus said, "I think you got him," that Gorgon let the goggles snap shut. The gy toppled over. He'd be waking up with a miserable headache, if the energy thrumming through Gorgon's body was any indication.

The guards rushed over, dragging the guy towards the quarantine tent. Being unconscious didn't get you out of an exam, it just made the exam a lot more thorough. And this guy had just gotten bumped to the head of the line. "Stupid," Gorgon said, more to himself than Cerberus. "They should have been expecting something like that."

She answered anyway. "Probably. But what do you want? Most of these guys aren't military or police." The big helmet head moved side to side. "Hell, we're lucky when we can find a mall security guard."

"Well, they better find someone to put in charge," Gorgon said, shifting into his gunslinger pose while the rest of the group followed meekly after the unconscious guy. "Things are going to get ugly in here fast if it keeps going like this." They were almost at four thousand people inside the Mount now. It was impossible to have that many people living together in peace. "Stealth had better assign someone to keep the peace if she doesn't want this place descending into anarchy."

"Maybe you should mention that to her," Cerberus said.

"Maybe I will," Gorgon replied. "Do me a favor and keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty there, will you? After waking up in his underwear sitting funny, he'll probably keep his head down, but just in case..."

"Where are you going?"

Gorgon jerked his thumb towards the main gate. "Out," he said, loosening his shoulders. "I'm at Tier Four right now. No sense wasting it when I can sweep for more survivors."

And maybe investigate an ex in white while he was at it.

[Much of the text taken (and folded and spindled) from "Point of View", Chapter Twelve of Peter Clines' Ex-Isle. No warnings except for length and navel-gazing. Have some day-to-day on the Mount. NFB, NFI, OOC is love]