I was always good at finding things...
Feb. 1st, 2016 01:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scorned_progenyWho: Diego Hargreeves (The Kraken) and posthumous Reginald Hargreeves (The Monocle)
When: Post Apocalypse Suite, pre-Dallas.
What: A hero goes looking.
It was funny, in retrospect. He'd been so proud of himself when he found their father's hidden study. The house was a maze of hallways and dead end rooms after all, it had only been supposition that had spurred the young boy on, but sure enough, The Monocle had rooms he didn't share with the public, or his adopted children.
The Monocle had congratulated him even. A private little ceremony just for him, an ice cream sundae and stories about the trophies he'd kept in that particular sealed room.
It was nice.
For a child.
In retrospect though, well, he could see the strings the man had pulled. Make the second son feel special. Make him feel like he knew things no one else did. It was important to feed the mind of a boy that thought as much as he did. Luther was the golden child, the first son in all estimations, but Diego was better at finding things. At researching. At knowing. Spaceboy stumbled into heroics, he hit things until they stopped moving...
...The Kraken hunted. He followed trails and he looked at bodies and he knew not only where the villains were but who they worked with. Who they spoke to. How to hurt them. The first favored son was a nice stalking horse, the second was the detective in the shadows that got things done.
And every moment of that competitive edge had been orchestrated.
He'd learned that last week. Oh, sure, he should have deduced it, years ago even, and sometimes he might even have done so but buried the realization in favor of patrolling, or tracing, or any number of things...
...it hurt to feel like he'd been made. Just as surely as Luther's new body had been crafted, the man he had grown to hate had laid out a path for Diego and he'd walked it. Diego had turned his back on everything that had ever made him feel calm and accepted to throw himself into hero work until the thugs in back alleys knew his name better than anyone he actually lived near. Hell, he only even knew one person these days that called him Diego, and she was on life support and...not likely to wake up.
He kept edging up on that thought sideways too, and burying it under distractions. This? This was a distraction...but it was also important. He needed to know why The Monocle had singled her out.
That knowledge hadn't been in the study he knew about...but it had to exist. Their adopted father was an obsessive documentor; it probably came of being an alien obsessed with the human condition AND heroes, but he never met a villain who monologued half as much as his own father. So he came back to the house he hated to check on Vanya and to...prowl. There was just no other term for how he stalked along halls and measured what the halls presented against what he knew of the outside.
After all, there wasn't a place in the mansion he couldn't monitor her heartbeat when he was paying attention, so being on the property at all soothed his need to check on her. It almost countered how badly 'home' put his hackles up.
Almost.
And he'd found...a great deal. A gymnasium he'd never known about, at least three labs full of monitoring equipment, and a cryo garden (what else did one call a small room full of frozen flowers?), not to mention at least three more studies and a library.
He'd found the journals in the library, naturally.
The first had been something of a gut punch, honestly, which was why it had taken him a week to try another. There was only so much revelation a man could handle about himself and his life's work. This wasn't about him, though, or any of his other erstwhile siblings...just her. Vanya.
Why she had lied about having a good life. The suicide attempt. How she became White Violin after years of no powers...
...how that had broken her. He knew the basis for the cracks would have one person to blame. The same person responsible for all their cracks and buttons, even if he was dead.
He selected one of the journals (bound in leather and tooled with fine silver thread), settled in a chair (too large and somehow too short), and opened to the first page.
'As I take my new responsibilities home I realize that there is a certain fallacy in the idea of crafting weapons for the force of good in this world. That fallacy lies in the fact that even though I may have access and unlimited resources for training and programming these powerful young creatures they are, in the end, human. Humans often choose themselves over their work, selfish and self entitled, there is no guarantee that those I train will remain on the paths I set them on. Needless to say this is a problem my enthusiasm for the idea did not prepare for. I will have to dedicate some thought to this matter.'
"Shit," he sighed, closing his eyes a moment. He'd been trained to follow the logic trails though. He was almost dead certain he knew where this was going now and he should have seen it sooner.
'Infants, I am finding, are incredibly noisy and disgusting creatures. Thankfully Pogo has slightly more maternal instinct than one would expect in a male primate and has taken a shine to their care. I will have to craft some form of mother figure for them in time, but for now my assistant will do. As to the other matter I have decided that it is necessary to have a fail safe, or at least a counter measure should one of these children (or more) choose to use their powers for ill. This will require a test case and after some thought I have chosen the youngest female, Vanya. Given the fact that she is one of only two females in the group this will lead to useful social situations for stress testing a counter measure; methods that would prove far less effective than with any of the males given there is less opportunity to create imbalance among five subjects as opposed to two.'
He almost, almost threw the book against the wall then. The path that the words were spelling out...led to dire consequences for everyone. He wished, almost desperately, that Reginald Hargreeves had been human. A human could bend and break people just as easily, that was true, but he wouldn't have been so...
...so...
...clinical about it. He skipped ahead a few pages. There was only so much bitching about diapers that was relevant after all.
'I've created a serum that should suppress the natural abilities of my children. Given they all had the same source trigger it should be effective as a broad spectrum curative in case of emergency. I've started number seven on the serum and she shows no ill effects as of yet. In an effort to remain thorough I will be administering this serum every day in perpetuity. I have decided that I shall call it 'vitamins' and spread the belief that alone out of the seven children, the youngest has a frailty requiring such. This will also aid in future reasons to isolate her. Far future. These creatures age incredibly slowly. It's quite frustrating to have so much to do and and yet be stymied by the glacial aging factor.'
Diego hardly noticed the soft sound of his hunting knife sinking through the upholstery of the chair to grind, rhythmically, against the solid wood of the chair arm. It was a soothing sound, really, one he could listen to instead of the pounding of blood in his ears and the haze of rage that book was pulling forth.
Not that he was ever far from rage. It was a useful tool in his line of work.
'Today the children walked. Or rather I should say today all the children finally walked. It was some time between the first and the last child trundling about easily. I guess I must allow for a learning curve, but the timing of each child fledging to full use of their limbs was erratic to say the least. There was no indicator of physical solidity; the strongest child did not walk first, nor did the weakest. Even my test case walked firmly in the middle, a fact I am mildly disgruntled by. Sadly I do not intend to adopt any further children so I will have to content myself with the capricious, and limited, data at hand.
An odd side note: My assistant Pogo has taken to coddling my test case. Perhaps his baser nature can sense a weakness in the child and therefore he is moved to protect her. I will have to research documented simian behaviors to see if this is standard for the breed. For now I am allowing it, the connection may prove useful in the future.'
Pogo...almost as much as the words about Vanya hurt, the observations about Pogo were painful. The monkey had been a hundred times the man their father had been. Kind and compassionate and doing his damnedest to lead by example on matters of empathy and understanding. Pogo deserved better than Reginald.
They all had.
Granted, the monkey would also be the first to tell him to close the book and have a cup of cocoa. No one needed to know that badly, and the cocoa would help.
It was tempting...very tempting, but if he stopped now he might not honestly start again.
'Finally, some interesting developments. I thought the children were going to show signs of powers far sooner than this, the first week ideally, but it is now apparent that the abilities came in with their motor functions. Their powers are worryingly diverse, following no logical path considering their genesis, but as the serum continues to hold Vanya from her abilities I must assume the diversity is a quirk of their genetics. My fail safe should still hold true, though I am finding I may have to supply an interest for the youngest as she will be unable to participate in our exercises. Something capricious perhaps, useless in an every day setting, but with the allure to keep her attention. An instrument perhaps. That will keep her well occupied and should she show talent it will be even better for my purposes. The other children are already starting to isolate her as they come in to power and she does not, this particular stress test is on schedule at least.'
He...remembered that. The Monocle sitting in the day room with their breakfasts laid out and the cheerful, cajoling "and what can you do today?" question. It was a game, or a contest, like winning a race if you could be the first to have discovered something new about your powers. They got little gold stars that they could pin on the walls of their room and they'd actually twinkle and shine at night...
...and little Vanya at the end of the table with her hair hiding her face as she ate cornflakes instead of talking.
He'd felt bad for her, and he'd tried to convince her that her powers were just late...
...but the Monocle had shook his head sadly and said "No, I'm afraid not. There's just nothing special about her." And that had made them all laugh and joke.
God they'd all been such little shits.
He'd helped her steal paint from the art room though, that was something, right? And Pogo had helped her paint stars all over her walls, hiding them behind sheets with music pinned to them so their dad never found out.
She'd had flat, painted stars at least. And Pogo had made sure they were colors other than gold. He'd just...covered for the monkey when supplies went missing.
Some family huh?
'I believe it was inevitable that at least one or two of the children would refuse to abandon my test case. Children are...hard to predict and don't follow standard social models. Or perhaps it's a dominance issue? Spaceboy is lead, and he has The Rumor's attention when he wishes, that means the beta of the pack needs to acquire his own female? It's possible. There are only two females after all.
At least The Rumor has kept her distance. The last thing we need is for reality altering powers to 'fix' Vanya. Luckily she seems to have decided that it would be a waste of time to talk Vanya out of her shyness. I'm encouraging this, if subtly, to ensure that they do not form a friendship bond that will lead to my serum being ineffective. The Rumor can have her place as the only girl hero, and Vanya will have hers as someone who will never have that. I may be fostering a sense of superiority in the others and it is a concept they children have taken to readily.'
By halfway through the journal he was starting to feel sick. Good thing he hadn't had that cocoa.
And that it didn't happen often. His reputation among the criminal elements would take a hell of a beating if it got out a book could make him lose his lunch.
'Initially I believed her continuing presence in The Kraken's life was useful. A form of stress relief for the boy considering his abilities. Even the horrible racket they made in the gardening shed as they both learned guitar was acceptable as he never lost training hours in doing so, but now they have formed a band and are intending to go on tour.
Naturally this is unacceptable. It has taken years to hone The Kraken into a proper hero, he should not even be able to contemplate leaving his rounds for so long. I can only surmise that his judgement is sorely lacking where she is concerned.
Fortunately this event coincides with my final decision to release her into the world. She has proven that the serum works under all controllable stress conditions, so it is time for field study under unpredictable conditions. I will start by ensuring she has the funds to attend a music college.'
It startled him to hear laughter rolling through the room; it was even worse when he realized it was his own, twisted and distorted around the bitterness in his throat. He'd...loved that stupid band. Even the name. And they'd been good, they'd sold out the only away concert they'd had. She'd talked him through his performance nerves, being the veteran of musical performances, and he'd gotten her to smile at least once per song. It had been good.
And that bastard had...
...no. He'd made the choice The Monocle had given him hadn't he? He'd gone on rounds and foiled badguys instead of meeting her for the bus like he was suppose to. He'd left her and their drummer alone because he'd decided to.
Oh God it hurt to laugh, but how could he not? "...judgment is sorely lacking where she is concerned..." it summed it up didn't it?
'Sending Vanya away has proven to be something of a trigger. Most the children seem to believe they should be out on their own now. It is true they are of an age where the general society believes they should be away so I can't help but allow them. They are performing in their duties admirably, if distractable at times, so their own field tests should be allowed.
Related, I've had to adjust the serum: it now has a mild addictive property. Left to her own devices Vanya has not been taking the vitamins I send her and so I've added a consequence for not doing so. She will now feel sickly and disjointed when going into withdrawals, which shall enhance her belief in her own frailty and a need for the vitamins.
She has also received a B in one of her classes, a matter which will initiate the next phase of testing.'
...there had to be something in The Monocle's belongings and inventions that could bring back the dead, right? It wouldn't be hard to dig the damn man up, he could get it done in under an hour! And then he could throttle the life out of him oh...a hundred times or so?
It might take the edge off.
'I've terminated Vanya's enrollment due to poor performance. There was not even a flicker of power even though I was rather certain she would have immolated me where I stood had she been able.
Excellent.
I intend to ensure she is pushed past her own means of making a living. This will be the greatest stress test as of yet, the only one beyond the stresses involved will be to see if her powers break through the serum to save her life when she is starving.
The Kraken has tracked her down again, this is an unfortunate tendency of his, but as she seems to find some level of self worth in caring for him it will be useful. Reviewing her current bills I have learned she spends more on first aid supplies than on any personal needs, hastening the point of death due to illness or hunger. I am mildly disgruntled that she would rush the study now, when I have little time for observation, instead of earlier when it would have kept me from boredom and listening to children's games.'
His knife was stuck. He noticed when the steady, soothing motion of twisting it back and forth halted, sending a ripple of cramping up his arm. The chair was...probably beyond repair at this point. When had that happened?
'Again she has rushed things. It seems my serum holds even in a life or death circumstance, though why she would choose to end her own life is beyond me. This was a useful test though, as she did not manifest and it has caused The Kraken to voluntarily remove himself from her vicinity. It has saved me the trouble of forcing her to move again, especially since her current abode is well equipped to monitor her and I dislike the temporary disruptions of data gathering when equipping a new home.
She has been assigned therapy by the hospital, I will have to monitor those sessions lest she compromise the others.'
...the stories she told. About music students. About the pressure of University being too much in the music department so she'd stepped down to a community college.
The job he'd found out about when last he tracked her down. The empty fridge.
Forget the chair, he should have been grinding the knife into his own leg. That had been...a terrifying night and he'd been so damn angry at her when he left the hospital.
So angry when he went to her apartment to clean it up and read through the past due notices and found out just how much she'd been lying to him. He could feel echoes of that anger now, but he didn't know who to attach it to right now. A dead man? A girl on life support? Himself for actually feeling? All three?
Fuck, he might have tried to off himself too under these conditions.
He didn't want to understand that decision.
'Vanya remains properly loyal to her family, but this in and of itself is an issue. I require something to refocus the children as a team, and I intend for Vanya to be that focal point. I've taken the liberty of having her therapy journals retrieved from the doctor's file room and have arranged (after suitable additions and editing) to have her 'tell all' book published.
I imagine once the doctor discovers the theft, and one Vanya learns of the book, an injunction against printing further books will be thrown at the publishing company so I have made sure that the company chosen is one that can suffer a temporary cease in product without harm.
The name on the book is hers, and future checks will arrive at her home, as well as a pre-release copy for her to read. I judge that this outrage will break through her current listless state and have her consulting a lawyer within a week, but a week of sales will have the stories, and vilifying of her siblings, properly started. This will galvanize the rest of the children to focus on their dislike of Vanya, which will be the first step in rebuilding them a proper team.'
She'd...called him. When she read the book. She hadn't apologized, she hadn't tried to explain, she'd just left a voice mail on one of his contact numbers hollowly asking him not to read the book. She'd swore she hadn't said anything about him in her journals...
...it hadn't made sense at the time.
It did now. She'd protected him, even in therapy, but The Monocle had edited in commentary and poisonous words for ALL of them.
Then? Then it had been a mystery. Of course he'd read it, and it rekindled the rage that had been ebbing since her attempted suicide. The book said she hated him, in more words naturally, but it had been a whole book of...hatred. Of pain. Of lashing out.
It hadn't been like the Vanya he knew. After reading the book he'd decided he never really knew her at all. That was why he'd been so angry when she came to the funeral; warring instincts of keeping her safe from this place, this cheat of a home, and rage she'd dared show up after everything. After the PUBLIC knew she hated them.
In retrospect she'd probably needed to make sure the damn man was dead, even if everyone but Pogo hated her. Hell, he was tempted again to go dig up the man and make sure.
'In light of my current condition I've had to preplan the ending of my serum trials. I can't risk an enemy gaining control of a serum sample when I am not here to counter it, and so my main subject will have to be destroyed after my death. This means my plans to regather the team against a common threat had to be accelerated and the prospects were less than ideal.
I have found a group, though, who may be able to assemble the technology necessary to complete the task. I've sent documents away to be deliberately found by them detailing a machine that will 'activate and amplify' powers within Vanya. In truth the machine will strip the serum buildup from her blood and body and destroy it. Likely this will cause a power trigger in Vanya, though her mind is unlikely to survive the process. It should function as a psychotic break, and likely she will destroy the group itself. That will be ideal conditions leaving no loose ends. Slightly less ideal conditions may leave her alive after such destruction in which case she may target those in her life that tether her to humanity.
This may prove a kindness to Pogo. When I am gone he will be without purpose and it is best he not be left to putter and pine away in this house alone. If nothing else it should ensure Vanya becomes a proper monster in the eyes of her siblings and thus will gather them back onto their proper paths.
I an torn on whether I should alert Pogo. The fact I wish to may be a sign of my own failing health. I believe it is time to set this journal aside and lay down for a bit.'
And that was...it. Nothing but blank pages followed that one and the chair arm at his side was nothing more than splintered wood and torn fabric.
The Monocle adopted seven children to save the world.He tortured one of them to save the world from the other six if necessary.
He wanted to tear the journal to shreds and burn the study down around it. He wanted to deny everything The Monocle had ever touched...
...instead he closed it, carefully, and set it back on the shelf. He might need it later. Then he turned out the lights, closed the door and the hidden panels, and went to sit beside the hospital bed that held Vanya, taking one of her pale, lacquered hands in his. "I never told you how I lost my eye..."
It was going to be a long night.
When: Post Apocalypse Suite, pre-Dallas.
What: A hero goes looking.
It was funny, in retrospect. He'd been so proud of himself when he found their father's hidden study. The house was a maze of hallways and dead end rooms after all, it had only been supposition that had spurred the young boy on, but sure enough, The Monocle had rooms he didn't share with the public, or his adopted children.
The Monocle had congratulated him even. A private little ceremony just for him, an ice cream sundae and stories about the trophies he'd kept in that particular sealed room.
It was nice.
For a child.
In retrospect though, well, he could see the strings the man had pulled. Make the second son feel special. Make him feel like he knew things no one else did. It was important to feed the mind of a boy that thought as much as he did. Luther was the golden child, the first son in all estimations, but Diego was better at finding things. At researching. At knowing. Spaceboy stumbled into heroics, he hit things until they stopped moving...
...The Kraken hunted. He followed trails and he looked at bodies and he knew not only where the villains were but who they worked with. Who they spoke to. How to hurt them. The first favored son was a nice stalking horse, the second was the detective in the shadows that got things done.
And every moment of that competitive edge had been orchestrated.
He'd learned that last week. Oh, sure, he should have deduced it, years ago even, and sometimes he might even have done so but buried the realization in favor of patrolling, or tracing, or any number of things...
...it hurt to feel like he'd been made. Just as surely as Luther's new body had been crafted, the man he had grown to hate had laid out a path for Diego and he'd walked it. Diego had turned his back on everything that had ever made him feel calm and accepted to throw himself into hero work until the thugs in back alleys knew his name better than anyone he actually lived near. Hell, he only even knew one person these days that called him Diego, and she was on life support and...not likely to wake up.
He kept edging up on that thought sideways too, and burying it under distractions. This? This was a distraction...but it was also important. He needed to know why The Monocle had singled her out.
That knowledge hadn't been in the study he knew about...but it had to exist. Their adopted father was an obsessive documentor; it probably came of being an alien obsessed with the human condition AND heroes, but he never met a villain who monologued half as much as his own father. So he came back to the house he hated to check on Vanya and to...prowl. There was just no other term for how he stalked along halls and measured what the halls presented against what he knew of the outside.
After all, there wasn't a place in the mansion he couldn't monitor her heartbeat when he was paying attention, so being on the property at all soothed his need to check on her. It almost countered how badly 'home' put his hackles up.
Almost.
And he'd found...a great deal. A gymnasium he'd never known about, at least three labs full of monitoring equipment, and a cryo garden (what else did one call a small room full of frozen flowers?), not to mention at least three more studies and a library.
He'd found the journals in the library, naturally.
The first had been something of a gut punch, honestly, which was why it had taken him a week to try another. There was only so much revelation a man could handle about himself and his life's work. This wasn't about him, though, or any of his other erstwhile siblings...just her. Vanya.
Why she had lied about having a good life. The suicide attempt. How she became White Violin after years of no powers...
...how that had broken her. He knew the basis for the cracks would have one person to blame. The same person responsible for all their cracks and buttons, even if he was dead.
He selected one of the journals (bound in leather and tooled with fine silver thread), settled in a chair (too large and somehow too short), and opened to the first page.
'As I take my new responsibilities home I realize that there is a certain fallacy in the idea of crafting weapons for the force of good in this world. That fallacy lies in the fact that even though I may have access and unlimited resources for training and programming these powerful young creatures they are, in the end, human. Humans often choose themselves over their work, selfish and self entitled, there is no guarantee that those I train will remain on the paths I set them on. Needless to say this is a problem my enthusiasm for the idea did not prepare for. I will have to dedicate some thought to this matter.'
"Shit," he sighed, closing his eyes a moment. He'd been trained to follow the logic trails though. He was almost dead certain he knew where this was going now and he should have seen it sooner.
'Infants, I am finding, are incredibly noisy and disgusting creatures. Thankfully Pogo has slightly more maternal instinct than one would expect in a male primate and has taken a shine to their care. I will have to craft some form of mother figure for them in time, but for now my assistant will do. As to the other matter I have decided that it is necessary to have a fail safe, or at least a counter measure should one of these children (or more) choose to use their powers for ill. This will require a test case and after some thought I have chosen the youngest female, Vanya. Given the fact that she is one of only two females in the group this will lead to useful social situations for stress testing a counter measure; methods that would prove far less effective than with any of the males given there is less opportunity to create imbalance among five subjects as opposed to two.'
He almost, almost threw the book against the wall then. The path that the words were spelling out...led to dire consequences for everyone. He wished, almost desperately, that Reginald Hargreeves had been human. A human could bend and break people just as easily, that was true, but he wouldn't have been so...
...so...
...clinical about it. He skipped ahead a few pages. There was only so much bitching about diapers that was relevant after all.
'I've created a serum that should suppress the natural abilities of my children. Given they all had the same source trigger it should be effective as a broad spectrum curative in case of emergency. I've started number seven on the serum and she shows no ill effects as of yet. In an effort to remain thorough I will be administering this serum every day in perpetuity. I have decided that I shall call it 'vitamins' and spread the belief that alone out of the seven children, the youngest has a frailty requiring such. This will also aid in future reasons to isolate her. Far future. These creatures age incredibly slowly. It's quite frustrating to have so much to do and and yet be stymied by the glacial aging factor.'
Diego hardly noticed the soft sound of his hunting knife sinking through the upholstery of the chair to grind, rhythmically, against the solid wood of the chair arm. It was a soothing sound, really, one he could listen to instead of the pounding of blood in his ears and the haze of rage that book was pulling forth.
Not that he was ever far from rage. It was a useful tool in his line of work.
'Today the children walked. Or rather I should say today all the children finally walked. It was some time between the first and the last child trundling about easily. I guess I must allow for a learning curve, but the timing of each child fledging to full use of their limbs was erratic to say the least. There was no indicator of physical solidity; the strongest child did not walk first, nor did the weakest. Even my test case walked firmly in the middle, a fact I am mildly disgruntled by. Sadly I do not intend to adopt any further children so I will have to content myself with the capricious, and limited, data at hand.
An odd side note: My assistant Pogo has taken to coddling my test case. Perhaps his baser nature can sense a weakness in the child and therefore he is moved to protect her. I will have to research documented simian behaviors to see if this is standard for the breed. For now I am allowing it, the connection may prove useful in the future.'
Pogo...almost as much as the words about Vanya hurt, the observations about Pogo were painful. The monkey had been a hundred times the man their father had been. Kind and compassionate and doing his damnedest to lead by example on matters of empathy and understanding. Pogo deserved better than Reginald.
They all had.
Granted, the monkey would also be the first to tell him to close the book and have a cup of cocoa. No one needed to know that badly, and the cocoa would help.
It was tempting...very tempting, but if he stopped now he might not honestly start again.
'Finally, some interesting developments. I thought the children were going to show signs of powers far sooner than this, the first week ideally, but it is now apparent that the abilities came in with their motor functions. Their powers are worryingly diverse, following no logical path considering their genesis, but as the serum continues to hold Vanya from her abilities I must assume the diversity is a quirk of their genetics. My fail safe should still hold true, though I am finding I may have to supply an interest for the youngest as she will be unable to participate in our exercises. Something capricious perhaps, useless in an every day setting, but with the allure to keep her attention. An instrument perhaps. That will keep her well occupied and should she show talent it will be even better for my purposes. The other children are already starting to isolate her as they come in to power and she does not, this particular stress test is on schedule at least.'
He...remembered that. The Monocle sitting in the day room with their breakfasts laid out and the cheerful, cajoling "and what can you do today?" question. It was a game, or a contest, like winning a race if you could be the first to have discovered something new about your powers. They got little gold stars that they could pin on the walls of their room and they'd actually twinkle and shine at night...
...and little Vanya at the end of the table with her hair hiding her face as she ate cornflakes instead of talking.
He'd felt bad for her, and he'd tried to convince her that her powers were just late...
...but the Monocle had shook his head sadly and said "No, I'm afraid not. There's just nothing special about her." And that had made them all laugh and joke.
God they'd all been such little shits.
He'd helped her steal paint from the art room though, that was something, right? And Pogo had helped her paint stars all over her walls, hiding them behind sheets with music pinned to them so their dad never found out.
She'd had flat, painted stars at least. And Pogo had made sure they were colors other than gold. He'd just...covered for the monkey when supplies went missing.
Some family huh?
'I believe it was inevitable that at least one or two of the children would refuse to abandon my test case. Children are...hard to predict and don't follow standard social models. Or perhaps it's a dominance issue? Spaceboy is lead, and he has The Rumor's attention when he wishes, that means the beta of the pack needs to acquire his own female? It's possible. There are only two females after all.
At least The Rumor has kept her distance. The last thing we need is for reality altering powers to 'fix' Vanya. Luckily she seems to have decided that it would be a waste of time to talk Vanya out of her shyness. I'm encouraging this, if subtly, to ensure that they do not form a friendship bond that will lead to my serum being ineffective. The Rumor can have her place as the only girl hero, and Vanya will have hers as someone who will never have that. I may be fostering a sense of superiority in the others and it is a concept they children have taken to readily.'
By halfway through the journal he was starting to feel sick. Good thing he hadn't had that cocoa.
And that it didn't happen often. His reputation among the criminal elements would take a hell of a beating if it got out a book could make him lose his lunch.
'Initially I believed her continuing presence in The Kraken's life was useful. A form of stress relief for the boy considering his abilities. Even the horrible racket they made in the gardening shed as they both learned guitar was acceptable as he never lost training hours in doing so, but now they have formed a band and are intending to go on tour.
Naturally this is unacceptable. It has taken years to hone The Kraken into a proper hero, he should not even be able to contemplate leaving his rounds for so long. I can only surmise that his judgement is sorely lacking where she is concerned.
Fortunately this event coincides with my final decision to release her into the world. She has proven that the serum works under all controllable stress conditions, so it is time for field study under unpredictable conditions. I will start by ensuring she has the funds to attend a music college.'
It startled him to hear laughter rolling through the room; it was even worse when he realized it was his own, twisted and distorted around the bitterness in his throat. He'd...loved that stupid band. Even the name. And they'd been good, they'd sold out the only away concert they'd had. She'd talked him through his performance nerves, being the veteran of musical performances, and he'd gotten her to smile at least once per song. It had been good.
And that bastard had...
...no. He'd made the choice The Monocle had given him hadn't he? He'd gone on rounds and foiled badguys instead of meeting her for the bus like he was suppose to. He'd left her and their drummer alone because he'd decided to.
Oh God it hurt to laugh, but how could he not? "...judgment is sorely lacking where she is concerned..." it summed it up didn't it?
'Sending Vanya away has proven to be something of a trigger. Most the children seem to believe they should be out on their own now. It is true they are of an age where the general society believes they should be away so I can't help but allow them. They are performing in their duties admirably, if distractable at times, so their own field tests should be allowed.
Related, I've had to adjust the serum: it now has a mild addictive property. Left to her own devices Vanya has not been taking the vitamins I send her and so I've added a consequence for not doing so. She will now feel sickly and disjointed when going into withdrawals, which shall enhance her belief in her own frailty and a need for the vitamins.
She has also received a B in one of her classes, a matter which will initiate the next phase of testing.'
...there had to be something in The Monocle's belongings and inventions that could bring back the dead, right? It wouldn't be hard to dig the damn man up, he could get it done in under an hour! And then he could throttle the life out of him oh...a hundred times or so?
It might take the edge off.
'I've terminated Vanya's enrollment due to poor performance. There was not even a flicker of power even though I was rather certain she would have immolated me where I stood had she been able.
Excellent.
I intend to ensure she is pushed past her own means of making a living. This will be the greatest stress test as of yet, the only one beyond the stresses involved will be to see if her powers break through the serum to save her life when she is starving.
The Kraken has tracked her down again, this is an unfortunate tendency of his, but as she seems to find some level of self worth in caring for him it will be useful. Reviewing her current bills I have learned she spends more on first aid supplies than on any personal needs, hastening the point of death due to illness or hunger. I am mildly disgruntled that she would rush the study now, when I have little time for observation, instead of earlier when it would have kept me from boredom and listening to children's games.'
His knife was stuck. He noticed when the steady, soothing motion of twisting it back and forth halted, sending a ripple of cramping up his arm. The chair was...probably beyond repair at this point. When had that happened?
'Again she has rushed things. It seems my serum holds even in a life or death circumstance, though why she would choose to end her own life is beyond me. This was a useful test though, as she did not manifest and it has caused The Kraken to voluntarily remove himself from her vicinity. It has saved me the trouble of forcing her to move again, especially since her current abode is well equipped to monitor her and I dislike the temporary disruptions of data gathering when equipping a new home.
She has been assigned therapy by the hospital, I will have to monitor those sessions lest she compromise the others.'
...the stories she told. About music students. About the pressure of University being too much in the music department so she'd stepped down to a community college.
The job he'd found out about when last he tracked her down. The empty fridge.
Forget the chair, he should have been grinding the knife into his own leg. That had been...a terrifying night and he'd been so damn angry at her when he left the hospital.
So angry when he went to her apartment to clean it up and read through the past due notices and found out just how much she'd been lying to him. He could feel echoes of that anger now, but he didn't know who to attach it to right now. A dead man? A girl on life support? Himself for actually feeling? All three?
Fuck, he might have tried to off himself too under these conditions.
He didn't want to understand that decision.
'Vanya remains properly loyal to her family, but this in and of itself is an issue. I require something to refocus the children as a team, and I intend for Vanya to be that focal point. I've taken the liberty of having her therapy journals retrieved from the doctor's file room and have arranged (after suitable additions and editing) to have her 'tell all' book published.
I imagine once the doctor discovers the theft, and one Vanya learns of the book, an injunction against printing further books will be thrown at the publishing company so I have made sure that the company chosen is one that can suffer a temporary cease in product without harm.
The name on the book is hers, and future checks will arrive at her home, as well as a pre-release copy for her to read. I judge that this outrage will break through her current listless state and have her consulting a lawyer within a week, but a week of sales will have the stories, and vilifying of her siblings, properly started. This will galvanize the rest of the children to focus on their dislike of Vanya, which will be the first step in rebuilding them a proper team.'
She'd...called him. When she read the book. She hadn't apologized, she hadn't tried to explain, she'd just left a voice mail on one of his contact numbers hollowly asking him not to read the book. She'd swore she hadn't said anything about him in her journals...
...it hadn't made sense at the time.
It did now. She'd protected him, even in therapy, but The Monocle had edited in commentary and poisonous words for ALL of them.
Then? Then it had been a mystery. Of course he'd read it, and it rekindled the rage that had been ebbing since her attempted suicide. The book said she hated him, in more words naturally, but it had been a whole book of...hatred. Of pain. Of lashing out.
It hadn't been like the Vanya he knew. After reading the book he'd decided he never really knew her at all. That was why he'd been so angry when she came to the funeral; warring instincts of keeping her safe from this place, this cheat of a home, and rage she'd dared show up after everything. After the PUBLIC knew she hated them.
In retrospect she'd probably needed to make sure the damn man was dead, even if everyone but Pogo hated her. Hell, he was tempted again to go dig up the man and make sure.
'In light of my current condition I've had to preplan the ending of my serum trials. I can't risk an enemy gaining control of a serum sample when I am not here to counter it, and so my main subject will have to be destroyed after my death. This means my plans to regather the team against a common threat had to be accelerated and the prospects were less than ideal.
I have found a group, though, who may be able to assemble the technology necessary to complete the task. I've sent documents away to be deliberately found by them detailing a machine that will 'activate and amplify' powers within Vanya. In truth the machine will strip the serum buildup from her blood and body and destroy it. Likely this will cause a power trigger in Vanya, though her mind is unlikely to survive the process. It should function as a psychotic break, and likely she will destroy the group itself. That will be ideal conditions leaving no loose ends. Slightly less ideal conditions may leave her alive after such destruction in which case she may target those in her life that tether her to humanity.
This may prove a kindness to Pogo. When I am gone he will be without purpose and it is best he not be left to putter and pine away in this house alone. If nothing else it should ensure Vanya becomes a proper monster in the eyes of her siblings and thus will gather them back onto their proper paths.
I an torn on whether I should alert Pogo. The fact I wish to may be a sign of my own failing health. I believe it is time to set this journal aside and lay down for a bit.'
And that was...it. Nothing but blank pages followed that one and the chair arm at his side was nothing more than splintered wood and torn fabric.
The Monocle adopted seven children to save the world.He tortured one of them to save the world from the other six if necessary.
He wanted to tear the journal to shreds and burn the study down around it. He wanted to deny everything The Monocle had ever touched...
...instead he closed it, carefully, and set it back on the shelf. He might need it later. Then he turned out the lights, closed the door and the hidden panels, and went to sit beside the hospital bed that held Vanya, taking one of her pale, lacquered hands in his. "I never told you how I lost my eye..."
It was going to be a long night.
