Chapter 11: 11: Colourful

My iced tea had the answers, I was sure of it. I stared that bottle down, idly thinking of interrogation methods I could use to get the information I needed. I had ways, little plastic bottle. Not just the usual methods either: I’d go after its family, too. After all, I’m a villain now, didn’t you hear?

The rest of the world had heard, or at least those that followed events in Penrith. In the week since I hit the OCP office, I’d also broken into a bank under my new alias. Wearing my necklace, I had strolled in and caused havoc, simulating a super brawl in the bank with my powers. While my two imaginary Emerged had battled it out, I’d snuck through the bank, stealing passcodes and intimidating supervisors into opening the vault.

Once in, I had taken what I could carry in a duffel bag and made my way back to the main floor of the bank. By that time, the illusions had dissipated, leaving a multitude of confused people milling around. I had made my announcement there, proclaiming who I was and that I would be stealing everyone’s shit. It wasn’t the most eloquent of villain speeches, but I had tried my best. I’d made my escape just as Bastion had arrived.

The money had to be dumped in the lake though, much to my disappointment. The bank money may have been marked, and I therefore couldn’t use it, or Kalia, the mild mannered little fox girl, would be discovered as the thieving little fox girl she really was.

That had all happened yesterday, the days leading up to it being filled with busy work and training. I had a coffee table and a couch now! I also gave in to my femininity and bought more clothing from Hot Topic. Sadly, that really… interesting... girl called Laithe hadn’t been working. Instead, I had gotten some lightly greased dude with way too many opinions that I just wasn’t interested in listening to.

My interrogation of the bottle looking for answers to questions I didn’t know was brought to an abrupt end when the bench jumped slightly. Blond hair dark eyes was back. I’d avoided him for the week, using him for his true purpose as stealth training dummy. It’d been harder, because he had kept looking up and around all the time now. Looking for someone? I hoped it wasn’t me, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re so heavy you make the bench shake when you sit down,” I told him.

He gave a lighthearted chuckle, “Yes, and I imagine you are quite the opposite.”

“Well yeah,” I nodded, still making eye contact with the bottle.

I felt him shift as he got more comfortable, and I sighed as he settled in. I had been enjoying my depressed brooding time up here in the evening light.

I glanced over and eyed him as he sat there, a look of idle concentration marking his strong brows and the sunset turning his features a vibrant orange. I watched his face out of the corner of my eye as he read his book. The subtle changes in expression were fascinating. I felt like I could almost understand the contents of his novel by the small changes his face underwent.

“What are you reading?” I asked idly.

“The Chalice of Grace, it’s the second in a series about a paladin who has to go rogue from his order when they become corrupted by evil. It’s pretty stereotypical fantasy but it’s well written and it’s got a likable protagonist,” he said, marking the page with his thumb and turning to look at me.

“Oh cool,” I nodded. That sounded like a series I might take a pass at some day.

“Not very interested in fantasy are you?” he asked teasingly.

“What, no, I enjoy fantasy. Sci-fi more so, though. I’m an engineer, or at least I studied as one.”

“An engineer? Studied or studying? You look like you’re too young to have finished studying. Maybe midway through college, sure,” he said in surprise.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m 23, so yeah, studied. That’s at least better than some estimates of my age people have made lately. What about you? Author? You seem to like reading.”

He snorted and looked down at his book fondly, “Close, I’m an editor. Don’t have the imagination to be a writer, but I can definitely polish up a rough gem till it shines.”

“I think usually you cut a rough gem,” I teased.

“Nobody likes a nitpicker, you get the point of what I said,” he laughed.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” I giggled.

We sat in silence for a while after that, my companion reading and me looking out over the city. It was peaceful up here, the city’s sounds muted and the wind blowing at a pace that wasn’t too chilly. The peace was broken by blond boy’s phone giving a chime.

He looked down at it and frowned, “Looks like I have to go, see you around fox girl.”

“Uh, see ya then,” I mumbled, watching him dog ear the page he was on and lift himself up.

He disappeared down the stairwell in a hurry and I was left alone on the rooftop.

****

Three days later I was stood in the Innes Haley Memorial Park, staring at a spot about ten meters away along the gravel path. I was convinced my teleport ability can be controlled, but I couldn’t figure it out. I’d been trying for the past three nights to get it to work with very little success. I’d tried concentrating on the spot over and over with no results.

I tried once again to move myself instantly to the spot I required, but just as I teleported my eyes fell to rest on a distant neon blue sign. I felt the air around me rupture and a lurch take my body. I quickly looked around to see if it had worked. It hadn’t. I was about sixteen meters to my left, the ability having randomly teleported me again. I gave a disgruntled huff and moved back to my original position.

I decided to try just picturing the spot in my mind, staring off into space again, my eyes resting on that blue sign. I initiated the teleport, and again found myself off target, significantly further to my left again. I stomped back to my starting position and concentrated with all my might on the spot I wanted to find myself after I moved. I rested my eyes on that blue sign, allowing them to unfocus to better concentrate on my target.

With a heavy sigh, I activated my ability. Once more I was off target entirely, and I made my way back to starting place. I slowed to a stop and looked around in confusion at where I had ended up. Once again I had moved significantly to my left? Three times in a row was not a coincidence I could ignore. What was I doing differently?

As I set myself back into my starting position, I went through the motions of what I had been doing. Step one, square my shoulders and tense up, step two, imagine the spot I wanted to go to, step three… Oh. The blue sign. To test my theory, I cleared as much of my thoughts as I could from my mind and just stared at the sign with my eyes unfocused. Taking a hopeful breath, I launched myself through space with a thought.

When I reappeared a fraction of a fraction of a second later, I whooped with joy, disturbing the night’s relative silence. I was once more significantly to the left of my previous position. In my excitement I decided to try something new. Turning to point my left side back the way I had come, I brought the distinctive blue colour to the forefront of my mind and teleported. I arrived only three meters off my starting position.

The colour blue was sending me to my left! Time to try a new colour! My mind flicked to red, and so I imagined the most vibrant red I could bring to mind. When I teleported, it was to the right. I could control my direction! Sort of! Somehow, it seems the colours I imagined were responsible for which way I teleported.

I spent almost an hour teleporting around the park, experimenting with the different colours and which way they sent me. I discovered that yellow was forward, orange was slightly to the right, and green was slightly to the left. I couldn’t nail directly backwards, the closest I got was a violet that sent me back and to the left a bit. Still, it was close enough. I was getting ready to head back home when I heard the squealing of tires and slamming of doors from near the road.

Making sure I was in my villain getup, with the necklace on, I cloaked myself in shadows and moved forward towards the disturbance. Sneaking between the little copses of cultivated trees, I quickly made my way across the park towards the increasingly angry shouting. It seemed to be a group of men, I wasn’t sure how many, but it must have been much more than four or five.

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Making a last turn around a group of trees, the scene came into view. Some sort of armoured van was surrounded by a series of beat up pickup trucks. The shouting was coming from a group of heavily armed individuals covered in racially charged tattoos, and their bald heads glistened in the lamplight. The skinheads had so much iron pointed at that van I was surprised the area hadn’t developed its own minor gravitational well. This was going to be as interesting as watching two blind rhinos go at it.

“Get out of the van, and don’t you fuckin dare let the cops know we’re here!” shouted one of the goons.

Shouting goon looked strange. For one, he held no gun, and his chest was bare even in the chill autumn night. Most oddly of all though, his tattoos gleamed with a metallic shine.

When they received no input from the drivers inside the hulking van, the bare chested man walked casually around to the rear door and placed his hand on its surface. The door groaned, then seemed to melt like it was made of wax, running along his arm and over his body, coating him in the dull grey metal. In moments, the door was completely gone and in the man’s place was a suit of angular armour, spikes protruding out of knee, fist and elbow.

The intimidating emerged man in his living suit of armour lumbered back around to the front and with little regard for anything behind him, tore the driver side door off its hinges like it was made of styrofoam. His followers knew to stand out of the way, and the door cartwheeled several meters before slowly tumbling to a stop. With as much care as the door had been treated with, he yanked the driver out of the seat and threw him to the pavement.

I crept forward to get a better look at what was in the van, but halted in my tracks when I heard the now familiar beat of wings on the chill night air. Looks like Seraph was going to turn up and make a mess of the general vicinity. I should probably back up a bit.

My feet didn’t even have time to take me backwards before a winged figure that wasn’t Seraph dropped out of the sky and landed on one of the gun toting goons. The young woman crouched atop the now injured gunman like a panther eyeing her prey. The most striking thing about her was her dark purple wings. All six of them, were stretched out in challenge behind her like the feathered equivalent of a cocked gun.

“Fuck!” one of the goons cried out in fear, “It’s Nightbinder!”

“Hi boys, looks like you’re getting yourselves into trouble,” she said with a laughter laden smirk.

She didn’t give them time for a reply, her tongue flicking out to wet her purple lips the only warning any of them got before she launched into their midst as though she were a cannonball plowing through closed ranks. Her fist caught the first victim in his stomach, launching him backwards into one of his comrades. Faster than my eye could follow, she flicked to the side in time to avoid a wild spray of bullets that were ejected from the gun wielded by a panicked goon.

The next thing I registered was her hand viciously closing around the throat of the man who had just fired on her.

“This is why I don’t date men, they get all excited and then just wildly blow their load into the night. Since you don’t have time for foreplay, I won’t bother with it either,” she sighed, bringing her knee up in a viciously fast blow to his nuts.

The man gave a squeal of pain and collapsed to the ground, his hands dropping his rifle to clutch at his brutalised manhood.

I almost called out to warn her as the armoured man barrelled down on her, but I stopped myself when I remembered I needed to remain hidden. My reticence cost her a blow that sent her flying back into one of the pickup trucks the skinheads had turned up in. The side of the truck crumpled as she hit it, and she let out a pained gasp, slumping to the ground. I started to move forward, not really knowing I was doing so but just wanting to be closer.

“Nightbinder, you’re not cut out to be stepping in to a situation like this, and I, Panzer, will have to show you just how out of your depth you are,” the muffled voice of the self styled tank said through his helmet.

Surprising pretty much everyone in the area, including myself and the frightened driver of the van, Nightbinder smiled and bit her lip like someone she had the hots for had just given her a wink at a bar.

“Oh, I love villains like you who can take a bit of punishment, it means I get to use this,” she said, and with a flourish, purple shadow flowed from her hand to form a savage looking mace.

Her other hand gave an elegant gesture, and chains of the same purple shadow energy erupted from the ground around Panzer, rooting him to the ground. He had all of half a second to brace himself before Nightbinder flashed forward with a launch that was positively meteoric. The chains dissipated into so much smoke a moment before she brought the dark mace into his chest at such speed the metal made a booming sound on impact.

She’d angled her blow in such a way that he hit nothing but the grass of the park nearby, his cumbersome bulk digging a meters long furrow in the ground. Surprising the audience yet again, she giggled and flipped the mace end over end in the air like it was a mere baseball bat, then caught it with a casual flick of her arm.

“That felt so fucking good,” she said with a taste of exuberance to her words.

I’d heard Nightbinder was intense when she fought, but this was unreal. She was either standing still or laying someone out. My breathing was coming in quicker as I watched with rapt amazement as she began to lay into the rest of the goons with the same ferocious abandon she’d exhibited thus far.

I snapped out of my bystander status when my eye caught something even more interesting than the vision of carnage before me. The back of the van was stacked with bricks of money wrapped in clear plastic. Interesting.

I crept forward, my form still shrouded in misty shadows as I took a peek into one of the pickup trucks. Just as you’d expect, there were two duffel bags neatly packed into the footwell of the passenger seat, along with extra ammo and a few spare guns. I briefly considered stuffing the guns into one bag and throwing them into the lake to dispose of them, but I figured Nightbinder would do her hero thing and take care of that for me.

Clutching the bags in my fists, I padded over to the van accompanied by the sounds of battle about me. Gunmen who took aim at the whirlwind of darkness among them found themselves chained to the ground, while those that tried to engage her in closer quarters were laid out with merciless abandon. She was clearly enjoying herself.

Reaching the van I pulled my knife free from its sheath to cut open the plastic and freed the banknotes from their prison. Shoveling as much of the money as I could into the bags, I watched Panzer stand up from the hole he had created and stare at Nightbinder with what I assumed was fury. His helmet made it hard to tell.

Seeing his men thrown about like dolls that had been found by a younger brother, he turned and beat a speedy retreat through the park. Nightbinder watched him go with consternation, her legs making moves to follow before she shook her head and turned back towards the van. Her eyes widened as they landed on me, a shadow with two duffel bags full of money.

Feeling cheeky I dropped my concealment and smiled sheepishly at her. Still in her predator’s stance she stalked towards me, but I felt something other than fear when I locked eyes with her. Her eyes were mesmerising. They were entirely black, save for her irises that glowed a brilliant violet colour. Flowing from the sockets was a never ending stream of fog, as though she was crying blackened smoke. Her body was clad in a very tight fitting dark outfit made of some matte material that I couldn’t identify.

She was unspeakably intimidating and apparently, according to the flush of tingling warmth in my chest, unspeakably attractive as well. I guess I had a new type? The type with black hair that glowed a vibrant purple at the tips and could kick my ass all the way back to New Zealand.

“Who are you?” she growled in a voice that was intended to intimidate, but instead caused my breath to hitch for entirely different reasons. Damn, I would not let my attraction get in the way of everything I was building for myself!

“Vulptrix,” I said with a grin that briefly flashed a little bit of tongue, bitten between my teeth.

She faltered and her eyes flashed down for a fraction of a moment to my lips, then back up as she said, “And you’re with these goons then?”

“Oh hell no!” I exclaimed, “Fuck them, bunch of cunts the lot of them!”

“And yet you are going to steal from this van regardless?” she asked with a weary frown.

“I mean yeah, it was just laying there in the open!” I said with a cheeky lopsided smile.

“It was just…” she echoed, then snorted with a shake of her head, “Yeah that’s not going to happen, sorry Vulptrix, I’m still stopping yo-”

I didn’t hear the rest, using the time she gave me to plot a colour in my mind and teleport into the park. I turned my head over my shoulder, pulling the shadows back about me and watching her spin about in confusion with a hushed giggle of satisfaction.

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