Blind Luck

cw: corrupt institution, alcohol

previous // Wildefire Masterlist // Bas Chapter //

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Hanging out at the coffee shop, hoping she just so happened to see someone who looked like they quite literally knew everything, was probably the dumbest plan Sarah had ever decided to stick to.

But what other option did she have? Even Hugo hadn't been able to dig up more info, and she didn't have another hopeful lead. So she'd printed out the forum post Hugo had come across, murder request and all, ordered a coffee, and hunched in a corner, ears sharpened.

It was her fourth morning on this wild goose chase. If you could even call it a chase. Wild goose stakeout?

The first day she'd wasted nearly six hours listening to customers order their lattes. After that, she decided to limit herself to an hour a day, at random times. There was no indication how often the enigma known as Big Brother visited this shop, or when, so it really was just left up to blind luck.

But sometimes, blind luck was all you needed.

Today's random time was five in the morning, right when the place opened, and even a double shot of espresso couldn't fix how badly Sarah wished she'd stayed in bed.

It's important, she reminded herself. It's our best chance.

She could take a nap later. 

She was zoning out, doodling on a napkin and listening to the background noise when she heard it.

“Black coffee for Bas?”

Bas. Sarah sat up straight, a sudden and unwelcome flush of anxiety coursing through her.

Fuck. This was it. She looked up just in time to see a man turn away from the counter, coffee in hand. He was a lanky guy, maybe in his late thirties, with flecks of gray in his brown hair and reading glasses clipped into his practical button-up shirt.

He definitely didn't look like a Neath criminal, much less the kind of guy who'd have a hit out on him. He looked like a college professor for something nerdy and slightly boring, like Greek literature or the history of pottery.

But if this was her chance, she wasn't gonna let it slip away.

Adoptable Comic!

A few years back I started a script for a whumpy superhero comic and forgot about it. While I still love the script and characters, I don't think it's something I'll ever be able to get around to finishing/drawing.

so, I'm taking a different approach, and essentially making what I wrote public domain. Anyone is welcome to complete the script and turn it into a comic of their own, use the characters or scenes as inspiration or framework for a story, or just take bits and pieces to draw or add to!

Summary: This unfinished script follows Jet, a young vigilante trying to save her partner, Ben, from a villain he has a dark history with.

Google docs link to the script and original sketches of the main characters will be under the cut!

As I said, anyone can use this for their creative projects. If you do, please tag me! I'd love to see what comes out of this :D

Meet Annie Rivera, CEO of Good Knight, Titanium's biggest rival in the Hero industry. She hates Uriah with a passion and would end him in a heartbeat if it were socially acceptable.

Vigilante is delighted to find their rival, a small-time villain, trapped somewhere: a pit, a well, an animal trap, whatever.

They should alert the authorities, but they don't, electing instead to taunt their prideful nemesis.

Of course, they bring blankets and food, and provide conversation. Every day, they find the rivalry, the animosity, a little shakier as the two begin to approach something almost like friendship.

One day, Vigilante finally decides to release Villain. Maybe let them crash at their place for a bit. But when they arrive, their former enemy is nowhere to be found.

And when they get home, the headline hits like a bullet:

Villain caught, in custody of Heroes.

design drop for the one and only Firebrand

the centerpiece is the "photo" they have of her on Titanium's website. There's a 'meet our heroes' tab, and Akeela is not at all big on being in the public eye, so when the media manager said, "pose for your picture!" she was like "wtf am I supposed to do"

Wildefire Masterlist

Wildefire: The Worst Thing

cw: discussed/referenced prison whump and abuse; manipulative whumper, bluntly discussed noncon

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"What's the worst thing they did to you, Alexei?" Uriah was standing behind him, unwelcome hands light on his shoulders. The muscle there still ached from his most recent punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lex's answer was automatic. Flat words with no emotion behind them; flat hope that Uriah would let him walk away from this conversation.

"Of course you do," Uriah pressed, amusement in his voice. "You spent a year in the Tower. I want to hear about it. I want to know what you're so afraid of."

"Why?" 

"When I ask you a question, I want an answer without having to explain myself."

Lex grit his teeth. "Why?" he repeated. He already knew the answer. Because I want to use it against you. Because I can.

Uriah clicked his tongue. "You won't like my answer," he said. "Or maybe you will. I think sending you back is too dramatic for a first offense, so I want something else. Something I can do to you when you step out of line."

(Brine, mine, spine.)

Of course Fox had the audacity to ask him to name this future punishment. Because why else would he bring it up, if he wasn't planning on using it? Lately it seemed like he'd been watching Lex like a hawk. Waiting for a slip up. A mistake. Defiance that was a shade too dark.

Uriah gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Alexei? I'm waiting."

Enemy of my Enemy

for Angstpril, Day 25: Nothing Lasts Forever

cw: adult language, death mention

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The moment his cybernetics were reattached, Cinder was on his feet, and it took a lot of effort for Sarah to hold her tongue and not tell him to get back in bed and sleep. He was clearly exhausted. She wouldn't be surprised if the most rest he'd gotten in the last few weeks was the handful of hours he'd spent unconscious, and that hardly counted.

But instead of insisting he stay and heal, or at least have something to eat for fuck's sake, she forced out a casual, "Headed out?" as Cinder brushed past her on the stairs, hardly sparing a glance up. 

The man grunted, not turning around. "You gonna stop me?"

"No."

"Good." He carried on down the hallway, one hand on the wall for support. It was almost painful to watch, even more so to not comment on.

It's his choice, she reminded herself. It needs to be his choice, or you're no better than Uriah.

Confessions

for Angstpril, Day 12

cw: alcohol, death mention, adult language

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Sarah found Cinder in a bar, of all places.

Shamble's Tavern, a hole in the wall in the Underneath. She certainly hadn't been looking for him, but there he sat all the same, sullen and unmistakable. She hadn't seen him in months. Not since the attack on the apartment, not since he'd run from their offers to help.

Cinder wasn't bothering to hide his face, and even through his long sleeves and gloves, his metal arms were visible, wrists glinting with every lift of his glass. And a high-collared shirt couldn't quite hide the metal circling his throat.

Sarah took a seat at a corner table and honed in on Cinder, pouring away her senses of taste and touch to make room for more sight. As her vision sharpened, she took him in. Unfocused eyes, a slight flush to his face, sweat beaded on his forehead. All signs pointed to him being well and truly drunk. Whether that made him more or less dangerous remained to be seen, but Sarah decided it was worth a shot to try and talk to him.

Abandoned

For Angstpril, Day 6

cw: aftermath of torture, mentioned hand whump, death mention

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Hero was troubled.

It wasn't the fight. He'd gotten better of the five supervillain-wannabes without breaking a sweat, stripped them of the tech they were using, and watched as they were all led away in handcuffs.

He'd dusted himself off, briefed law enforcement on the scenario, then started collecting the gear the criminals had used so it could be turned in as evidence.

It wasn't until he was holding the first piece—a cuff that let its wearer manipulate electricity—that Hero's blood ran cold. It was inch-for-inch identical to something he'd seen Villain use.

He collected the rest of the gear in a hurry, giving each item a quick once-over, and each piece further confirmed his suspicion.

Villain had made the tech that outfitted the aspiring criminals of the day. Dammit. He should've realized this was bigger than an attempted robbery. Villain was always a step ahead.

And he'd been missing for months. Plenty of time to plan something big. How many other petty criminals had he outfitted in that time? Would the city see a spike in crime? Or…

A chill washed over Hero as he remembered the last time he'd seen Villain. Running away, tail between his legs after a crushing defeat at Hero's hands.

Was this revenge? Had the robbery been a distraction?

He handed the rest of the gear off quickly, trying not to let the worry show on his face as he took off. 

What if Villain had attacked his base? His team? His family? Even in route, he called back to the team's headquarters in a hurry.

Villain gets caught. Not by the heroes, or the police, or even an established vigilante, but by a civilian with a vendetta

And a baseball bat

And a garage full of very... versatile tools