Fic: Ice Cream
Title: Ice Cream
Fandom/'verse: Superhero setting
Rating/Warnings: Language, recovering mind control victim
Summary: While on the run from the authorities Tonya runs across a villain she's met before...
Originally posted to my deviantArt account back in August. Kudos and criticism both welcome (ook, my own criticism, after having it sitting aside for three months I so very much want to rewrite it).
Ice Cream, or Tonya on the Run
There are times you wonder what the hell you think you're doing. With the police officer I'd just shocked clutching his arm and swearing behind me, and more back at their cars, and a super-villain with hostages in the bank right in front of me... I was well past the What Am I Thinking stage and right into the Did Five Years as PsyMinder's Brainwashed Toy Leave Me With a Death Wish stage.
"This is so not my problem." I muttered as I rattled the bank's locked door.
I pulled on the door again and it stubbornly remained locked. But the keypad next to it told me it wouldn't be locked for long. Resting my palm over the pad I let Officer Pottymouth's ranting fade away as my mind poured into the circuitry. I couldn't help but grin at the familiar feeling under my palm.
"A Sec-U-Tek Model 11? Really? These morons must want people to break in."
I could have defeated that piece of trash with a paper clip and a candy wrapper. Or a good old fashioned hairpin. If I'd had either of those. Using my mutant powers to trick the cpu into thinking I'd just given it a valid access code almost felt like a waste of my powers. Almost. If I didn't still get a little thrill every time I used them. More so when I used them because I chose to and not at some psychotic thug's orders. One click of the locks disengaging later and I shoved open the door.
"Hey! Bon-Prick!"
Every eye in the bank turned to me as I walked in. I'd recognize his head of orange hair anywhere. That and his ballistic armor over a dorky day glow orange skinsuit look he had going. You have to of seen pictures, surely you gotta agree that tall wiry guys with no muscle tone shouldn't wear stretchy body coverings. So yeah, just as I'd overheard on the police radios it was Bonpyre trying to knock over the place.
"You still owe me you big jerk!"
The way the hostages were looking at me you'd think they'd never seen a little girl yelling at a mad fire bomber before. Oh. Right. Normies.
"Sparkler? Thought you were dead!"
"Do I look dead?"
"No kid, just half dead."
One of Bonpyre's long hands ruffled my hair for a second before I ducked out from under it.
"Yeah? Screw you. You try living on the run for three months and see how you look." Yeah. I think the death wish theory has something going for it. "Whatever, I said you owe me."
"Sorry Sparkler, PsyMinder might not be alive to object, but I'm not interested in a side kick." He paused to look back at the tellers and held up a fist clenched detonator. "Hey! Did I say to stop filling those bags? Stuff 'em or burn!"
"Not what I want, and screw that name too I've always hated being Sparkler. Makes me sound like one of those crappy not-even-a-real-firework things you give little kids."
I took a look at his hand while I whined. Yeah I admit it, whined. Shove it, you live through what I have and you get to whine too. Otherwise just shove it where the sun don't shine. Anyways the detonator in his hand looked right and the wire trailed around to a box that looked just like I expected. Twenty pounds of phosphorus, thermite, and other nasty burny stuff wired to a fancy LED display. What the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, wasn't. Let's not forget the little blasting charge to spread it all about either. Not too big a charge though. Bonpyre was fireproof not bang proof.
"Don't want to be a sidekick. Had enough of being some asshole's half size servant. I just want my ice cream."
"Huh?"
The utterly confused look on his face made me wish I had a camera. Hell, wish I had pictures of some of the hostage's faces. Of course it made me want to kick him too. The jerk had promised.
"What the hell kid? You're interrupting me in the middle of a job to ask for ice cream?"
I walked over and tapped the top of the bomb, "You promised. When you asked the Barbed Helix to design these you said you'd get me some ice cream. You gave PsyMinder the cash. But I never saw any ice cream. So pay up."
Half the room cringed when I touched the bomb. The rest did when it beeped and the big LED screen started flashing. Bonpyre? Yeah, his face wasn't so amusing anymore when he saw the words SAFE MODE flashing on his bomb. He made with the fists and growled. I just kept talking like I hadn't noticed any off it.
"You lied to me. I hate being lied to. Where's my--"
Yeah I was being stupid. Give me a break, I was barely a teenager and I thought I had this really cool idea. I was going to wait for him to punch and then grab and zap his arm at the same time. I mean really, I had awesome mutant electric powers, how could it go wrong?
His fist answered that when it sent me tumbling over a desk to smack my head on one of those cheap plastic chairs before dropping to the floor. Yeah. A whole heck of a lot could go wrong with a plan that stupid. I was too busy realizing I was hurting to be thinking about that. Damn, it was easier to ignore that when my brain wasn't my own. I barely started realizing that by the time he'd backed me up to the wall.
"What did you do girl!"
"You hired Barbed Helix to design your bombs. Dan picked the boomy stuff, Jen did the layout, I did the electronics. I did the electronics. As often as that bitch was in my head is it so surprising some of PsyMinder's paranoia rubbed off? Do you really think I'd make something I couldn't turn off?"
I don't have a clue what told me to duck. I'm just glad I did because next thing I knew his fist was in the wall where my head had been. The hostages finally realized they could run without becoming charcoal. Yay them. I still had to dodge a rabid Bonpyre. At least I'd finally remembered the Dodge To Avoid Hurting rule. Which isn't to say I had any idea how to fight yet, that was about all PsyMinder ever bothered to have anyone teach me. Let's put it this way, I actually paused to poke my tongue out like some rugrat before ranting at him some more.
"Do you have any idea what kind of hell I was in?"
The only answer I got to that was a chair flying at me.
"Days of listening to that bitch rant paranoid politics and have her mind twisting around in mine. Do any of the others even try and talk her out of zombifying a kid? Ha! They were just a little nicer about pushing me around."
I managed to at least keep him from hitting me in the head with anything while I scrambled around trying to get to the far end of the bank lobby. I really should have saved my breath instead of ranting but like I said, I was an idiot.
"On a good day they just ignored me instead of treating me like I was the group's maid. Then you come in, telling jokes and actually talking to me instead of at me."
I'm not sure if his fist caught me once or twice, only that I was on the ground before I even knew he'd caught up with me. I crawled under a table and around a counter before looking back over my shoulder. "Then you leave me in that hellhole without even paying your damn bribe!"
I had just enough time when I turned around again to realize he'd somehow got in front of me before the pain really started. I'm pretty sure that was when my nose got broken. Not to mention some ribs. The thing is as much as it sucked, on the pain scale it was still far short of one of PsyMinder's punishments. Her's made me want to die. He just made me puke my breakfast all over his shoes. I was too out of it to even remember what the heck the last blow was. A punch or a kick, whatever it was sent me back over the counter.
I came to rest on my back with what was probably an insane looking grin. No more hostages and the firebomb was behind me. Perfect. I didn't even bother trying to get up. The floor was comfortable. The floor didn't jab me in my hurty spots. The floor let me make Bonprick overconfident. I didn't have to worry about hitting the normies by accident any more. Or the bomb. Can't forget the bomb. Bonprick was the burnproof one not me. I cupped my hands while he stomped around the counter to glare at me.
"Hey Bonprick, guess what I've learned to do?"
It was yet another moment I wished I had a camera. When he saw the sparks dancing between my hands his eyes got wide but the moron still kept walking towards me. All it took was a flick of my fingers and the little ball of lightning flashed right into him. Three more and the jerk dropped to his knees.
That's when the police finally showed up. They didn't take any chances and hit him with a pair of beanbag rounds before swarming over him which stun guns and cuffs.
As comfy as the floor was I figured that was my best chance to slip away. But when I rolled over onto my side I found Officer Pottymouth giving me a nasty grin.
"Tonya Thompson, or should I say Sparkler, you're under arrest."
"You can't maybe look over that way at Bon-dork while I crawl away?"
He didn't even bother answering that, just kept grinning while he pulled out his handcuffs.
"Hey, the hostages made it out and you've got the jerk. Maybe someone could grab an ice cream while I wait for the paramedics? What, don't need to glare, it was worth a try."
I really, really should have knocked him out instead of just stunning his arm. Jerk.
---
Poor girl. She doesn't want to be a villain. If I get enough of these to do a collection of her stories I'll do a rewrite then.
(This is a crossposting |
replies at the original post on dreamwidth | Comment at dreamwidth | You can comment on DW posts even if you don't have an account there Using OpenID!)
Fandom/'verse: Superhero setting
Rating/Warnings: Language, recovering mind control victim
Summary: While on the run from the authorities Tonya runs across a villain she's met before...
Originally posted to my deviantArt account back in August. Kudos and criticism both welcome (ook, my own criticism, after having it sitting aside for three months I so very much want to rewrite it).
Ice Cream, or Tonya on the Run
There are times you wonder what the hell you think you're doing. With the police officer I'd just shocked clutching his arm and swearing behind me, and more back at their cars, and a super-villain with hostages in the bank right in front of me... I was well past the What Am I Thinking stage and right into the Did Five Years as PsyMinder's Brainwashed Toy Leave Me With a Death Wish stage.
"This is so not my problem." I muttered as I rattled the bank's locked door.
I pulled on the door again and it stubbornly remained locked. But the keypad next to it told me it wouldn't be locked for long. Resting my palm over the pad I let Officer Pottymouth's ranting fade away as my mind poured into the circuitry. I couldn't help but grin at the familiar feeling under my palm.
"A Sec-U-Tek Model 11? Really? These morons must want people to break in."
I could have defeated that piece of trash with a paper clip and a candy wrapper. Or a good old fashioned hairpin. If I'd had either of those. Using my mutant powers to trick the cpu into thinking I'd just given it a valid access code almost felt like a waste of my powers. Almost. If I didn't still get a little thrill every time I used them. More so when I used them because I chose to and not at some psychotic thug's orders. One click of the locks disengaging later and I shoved open the door.
"Hey! Bon-Prick!"
Every eye in the bank turned to me as I walked in. I'd recognize his head of orange hair anywhere. That and his ballistic armor over a dorky day glow orange skinsuit look he had going. You have to of seen pictures, surely you gotta agree that tall wiry guys with no muscle tone shouldn't wear stretchy body coverings. So yeah, just as I'd overheard on the police radios it was Bonpyre trying to knock over the place.
"You still owe me you big jerk!"
The way the hostages were looking at me you'd think they'd never seen a little girl yelling at a mad fire bomber before. Oh. Right. Normies.
"Sparkler? Thought you were dead!"
"Do I look dead?"
"No kid, just half dead."
One of Bonpyre's long hands ruffled my hair for a second before I ducked out from under it.
"Yeah? Screw you. You try living on the run for three months and see how you look." Yeah. I think the death wish theory has something going for it. "Whatever, I said you owe me."
"Sorry Sparkler, PsyMinder might not be alive to object, but I'm not interested in a side kick." He paused to look back at the tellers and held up a fist clenched detonator. "Hey! Did I say to stop filling those bags? Stuff 'em or burn!"
"Not what I want, and screw that name too I've always hated being Sparkler. Makes me sound like one of those crappy not-even-a-real-firework things you give little kids."
I took a look at his hand while I whined. Yeah I admit it, whined. Shove it, you live through what I have and you get to whine too. Otherwise just shove it where the sun don't shine. Anyways the detonator in his hand looked right and the wire trailed around to a box that looked just like I expected. Twenty pounds of phosphorus, thermite, and other nasty burny stuff wired to a fancy LED display. What the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, wasn't. Let's not forget the little blasting charge to spread it all about either. Not too big a charge though. Bonpyre was fireproof not bang proof.
"Don't want to be a sidekick. Had enough of being some asshole's half size servant. I just want my ice cream."
"Huh?"
The utterly confused look on his face made me wish I had a camera. Hell, wish I had pictures of some of the hostage's faces. Of course it made me want to kick him too. The jerk had promised.
"What the hell kid? You're interrupting me in the middle of a job to ask for ice cream?"
I walked over and tapped the top of the bomb, "You promised. When you asked the Barbed Helix to design these you said you'd get me some ice cream. You gave PsyMinder the cash. But I never saw any ice cream. So pay up."
Half the room cringed when I touched the bomb. The rest did when it beeped and the big LED screen started flashing. Bonpyre? Yeah, his face wasn't so amusing anymore when he saw the words SAFE MODE flashing on his bomb. He made with the fists and growled. I just kept talking like I hadn't noticed any off it.
"You lied to me. I hate being lied to. Where's my--"
Yeah I was being stupid. Give me a break, I was barely a teenager and I thought I had this really cool idea. I was going to wait for him to punch and then grab and zap his arm at the same time. I mean really, I had awesome mutant electric powers, how could it go wrong?
His fist answered that when it sent me tumbling over a desk to smack my head on one of those cheap plastic chairs before dropping to the floor. Yeah. A whole heck of a lot could go wrong with a plan that stupid. I was too busy realizing I was hurting to be thinking about that. Damn, it was easier to ignore that when my brain wasn't my own. I barely started realizing that by the time he'd backed me up to the wall.
"What did you do girl!"
"You hired Barbed Helix to design your bombs. Dan picked the boomy stuff, Jen did the layout, I did the electronics. I did the electronics. As often as that bitch was in my head is it so surprising some of PsyMinder's paranoia rubbed off? Do you really think I'd make something I couldn't turn off?"
I don't have a clue what told me to duck. I'm just glad I did because next thing I knew his fist was in the wall where my head had been. The hostages finally realized they could run without becoming charcoal. Yay them. I still had to dodge a rabid Bonpyre. At least I'd finally remembered the Dodge To Avoid Hurting rule. Which isn't to say I had any idea how to fight yet, that was about all PsyMinder ever bothered to have anyone teach me. Let's put it this way, I actually paused to poke my tongue out like some rugrat before ranting at him some more.
"Do you have any idea what kind of hell I was in?"
The only answer I got to that was a chair flying at me.
"Days of listening to that bitch rant paranoid politics and have her mind twisting around in mine. Do any of the others even try and talk her out of zombifying a kid? Ha! They were just a little nicer about pushing me around."
I managed to at least keep him from hitting me in the head with anything while I scrambled around trying to get to the far end of the bank lobby. I really should have saved my breath instead of ranting but like I said, I was an idiot.
"On a good day they just ignored me instead of treating me like I was the group's maid. Then you come in, telling jokes and actually talking to me instead of at me."
I'm not sure if his fist caught me once or twice, only that I was on the ground before I even knew he'd caught up with me. I crawled under a table and around a counter before looking back over my shoulder. "Then you leave me in that hellhole without even paying your damn bribe!"
I had just enough time when I turned around again to realize he'd somehow got in front of me before the pain really started. I'm pretty sure that was when my nose got broken. Not to mention some ribs. The thing is as much as it sucked, on the pain scale it was still far short of one of PsyMinder's punishments. Her's made me want to die. He just made me puke my breakfast all over his shoes. I was too out of it to even remember what the heck the last blow was. A punch or a kick, whatever it was sent me back over the counter.
I came to rest on my back with what was probably an insane looking grin. No more hostages and the firebomb was behind me. Perfect. I didn't even bother trying to get up. The floor was comfortable. The floor didn't jab me in my hurty spots. The floor let me make Bonprick overconfident. I didn't have to worry about hitting the normies by accident any more. Or the bomb. Can't forget the bomb. Bonprick was the burnproof one not me. I cupped my hands while he stomped around the counter to glare at me.
"Hey Bonprick, guess what I've learned to do?"
It was yet another moment I wished I had a camera. When he saw the sparks dancing between my hands his eyes got wide but the moron still kept walking towards me. All it took was a flick of my fingers and the little ball of lightning flashed right into him. Three more and the jerk dropped to his knees.
That's when the police finally showed up. They didn't take any chances and hit him with a pair of beanbag rounds before swarming over him which stun guns and cuffs.
As comfy as the floor was I figured that was my best chance to slip away. But when I rolled over onto my side I found Officer Pottymouth giving me a nasty grin.
"Tonya Thompson, or should I say Sparkler, you're under arrest."
"You can't maybe look over that way at Bon-dork while I crawl away?"
He didn't even bother answering that, just kept grinning while he pulled out his handcuffs.
"Hey, the hostages made it out and you've got the jerk. Maybe someone could grab an ice cream while I wait for the paramedics? What, don't need to glare, it was worth a try."
I really, really should have knocked him out instead of just stunning his arm. Jerk.
---
Poor girl. She doesn't want to be a villain. If I get enough of these to do a collection of her stories I'll do a rewrite then.
(This is a crossposting |
replies at the original post on dreamwidth | Comment at dreamwidth | You can comment on DW posts even if you don't have an account there Using OpenID!)