#The first church of Sickos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lillaxtrigger · 2 years

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Street Smarts: Chapter 4

The city skies of New York darken in an orange hue as the sun descends down towards the western horizon, the shadows casting their dark vials across the eastern sides of the countless buildings as the night approaches; the tallest buildings blanketing over a stretch of the city with they’re enormous shades. And such encroaching darkness urges the scourge of the day to burrow out from their dens and prowl through the nightly streets; the scoundrels and criminals that are demonized by law abiding citizens to crawl out of the wood works to partake in their evenings of debauchery. Among the nearly empty roads, devoid of the usual daytime bustle of both traffic and streetgoers, a small moving van slows along the edge of the road and parks beside at first, an empty allyway; holding nothing but some garbage cans and a couple of stray cats. Those feline that were digging through the trash for their meal swiftly scamper away when a door out along one of the buildings comes flying open; the light from inside piercing through the darkness and flooding through the alley as those within march out with large boxes in tow. One of the people that carry them out into the moving van questions: “These things are pretty heavy. What even packed in them anyway?” To this does another man of ginger hair with a sequin belt and silk jade sweater step out from the passenger side of the van and informs them on how: “Just some meals gathered from the food drives. Pastor wants us to move it out over to the Christian rec center out on May Jam way.” “Tarot, that’s about 25 miles away. That’s at least a 1 hour trip.” the other person carrying the boxes into the back of the van claims. “Yeah, and out on streets like this at night. That’s practically asking to get stopped and shifted. You seriously expect us to transport all this food without getting ganked?” “Relax. As long as your with me, I guarantee that the road ahead will be free of any bumps or bruises.”

Unbeknownst to them all however, a pair peeking out from along the rooftop spy on them as they continue to carry out the boxes into the back of the moving van; Thursotte and Frida glaring down to everyone down there, with the dimensional psychic claiming: “Right. One of these guys have gotta be a psychic. The cult wouldn’t be moronic to leave a shipment like this unguarded. Most likely, its the guy barking orders; but the million dollar question is what they can do?” “A little too much security for a food delivery, don’t ya think. I mean I know foods pretty important, but still, can’t they use their connection to get food from the church in another way.” Thurs wonders. “You seriously can’t believe they’re hauling food, right? Didn’t you go over the report?” “We get reports?” “Oy...Kay, so. Full stop, those boxes they got don’t have a single table scrape of food in their cardboard. Doubt that most of the grunts down there don’t even know what they’re carrying.” “And that would be?” “Weapons. A lot of them. Firearms. Bombs, ammo, you name it. Since the cults been losing ground in this whole painted up gang war, they could be hoping that this fresh shipment of ammunition can turn the tides.” “Seems pretty reckless to have just one truck to ship something so valuable. I’d have split the payload up with at least a couple more to thin us out.” Thurs gives his opinion for. “They kind of did that. Only instead of a second truck, they opted to have the second half delivered via ship.”

“By boat?” Satette questions. “Yep, just sail right along the canal like its fucking Venice Italy; except nowhere near as romantic and 20 times more polluted. You know I hooked a bag of used condoms out there while I was fishing once?” Wedsle explains. “A whole ass bag!? God, that’s foul. What sicko would even…So, what’s even the plan here. We just jump them before they head off or.-” “Nah, nah, nah. With the kind of heat they got stowed in the back. Much of a better idea to wait til they depart and sneak aboard, fuck em there.” “Kay, but a couple more things still bug me.” “Like?” Wedsle wonders as both of them peek out from the shed they hide behind.

The two peer out towards a small dock set out along the side the greenish waters of the canal toward a small boat parked at the dock, with a few people loading several boxes onto the deck from the back of a pickup truck; all the while a somewhat muscular woman donning locks of jet black dressed in a shade of green nearly matching the canal waters tends to a couple of other people along the front of the pickup. “Pretty sure that beefcake there’s calling the shots. Question is what sort of psychic power she’s got underneath all that meat.” “Hard to read. Can’t be anything too powerful if the cult’s got her stuck on delivery watch, though.” the purple psychic remarks. “You never know. And speaking of not knowing, where the hell is Monty. Shouldn’t our leader enlighten us with his guidance?” “Hah, enlighten. Actually, he got called in by the higher ups to help plan on what our next real move should be to finish the apostles. With the cult starting to be left on their last leg, it might not be long before we can hit them where it hurts and finally weed them out.”

The two of them shimmy back behind the shed as Wedsle continues to explain how: “I suggested Monty to get us a position that’ll let us tackle the cult leader himself. If we manage to pull that off, that’ll lend us enough credence to gain the bosses trust and reveal himself. And from then on we work on pulling the rug out from under the bastard and take his throne.” “So, you went and suggested that our little band, some of them having not been on the job for even half a month, to storm the cults stronghold and kill their leader? Are you taking the piss right now?” “Chill out, the cult won’t be down for the count that quickly. We’ll have enough time to plan and get you used to using your powers.” “Oh yeah, coming from you, that’s reassuring.” Sarcastically claims Satette. “Bitch, I-” But on the cusp of barking back at the lively young psychic, the two suddenly hear a horn blow off from behind the shed and peek back to discover the boat departing from the docks and sailing through the grimy green canal; Satette starting to panic as she goes: “Shit! It’s already leaving? What do we do?” “Follow me.” Wedsle demands, darting off the opposite direction. “Where the hell are you running, the boats going the other way.” “I know where that direction of the Canal leads, we can cut them off from there.”

The small moving van wobbles in place as the last box is set inside, the man that had carried it in wiping the sweat off his brow as he claims that: “Phew. Think that’s the last of it. Think we’re ready to head out.” “Excellent! Now just to head on out to the rec center. And drop off the good. The guys waiting for you will take things off from there.” Tarot orders them. “Sure, but….” “Yes?” “There’s hardly any room in the back of the truck, and the front only has two seats. I don’t know if there’s enough room for you to-” “Oh, neither of you need to worry about all that. I’ll be hear watching over you guys and your trip. Just trust me.” “Al...right…” the moving man utters as he gets in the passenger side of the truck.

Taking his seat in the front and shutting the door behind him, the guy peers to the woman taking the wheel as she asks: “He coming or what?” “He said just go ahead.” “Uh...kay…” As the driver starts the ignition and hears the engine of the moving van roar out, she notices a blur go across her door’s mirror, prompting her to swiftly peek out through the window; but the driver is left dumbfounded when gazing back to find not a soul set along the side of the van. “Uh….” “What’s up? You see somethin.” “Mmm probably just some dog.” the driver dismisses with, slinking back to the wheel, left entirely ignorant of the two dimensional hand slithering under the trucks bottom.

With no further interruptions hindering their departure, the moving van rolls out of the alleyway and starts its trip through the nightly city street; the vans headlight piercing through the grungy shadows that plagues the roads ahead of them. Unbeknownst to the two sitting in front, an arm of 2 dimensions slithers out from the bottom of the truck and reaches across the van’s back doors towards the top of the vehicle; this hand poking out from the surface of the door to clutch the edge of the van’s roof. The woman this hand belongs to heaves herself up to the top of the moving van as she returns to a 3 dimensional person; Frida catching her breath as she pulls Thursotte from the flat surface and up to the top with her. Thurs draws in a sharp gasp as he himself returns to the 3rd dimension, taking a moment to catch his breath before asking: “How do you even breath in there?” “You don’t.” “Wish there was oxygen in the 2nd dimension. You could practically live in the walls, then.” “Meh, flat surfaces are pretty boring. The 3-D world has more depth.”

“So, what’s our plan here? We hijack the truck and take the wheel?” Thursotte wonders. “Nah; still worried about that one guy that was with them; he might be hiding here waiting to ambush us if we try that. Think it be better for you to cause an accident.” Frida suggests. “With us still on top of this massive payload!? You nuts? There’s seriously way too many factors to consider in play here. The car going 40 knocking us off, the ammo inside it detonating. Even if we wind up making it through the crash, the explosion’ll do the rest. And that ain’t even accounting for that one guy that was with them. He could be right under our feet for all we know. You might have the luxury of using your powers to plan ahead, but I don’t. As soon as I pull the trigger for mine, practically anything could happen; countless variables that I might not have even taken for account like a dog or bird passing by that could throw a whole tool box set into the works. How am I supposed to plan around an ability have next to no control over?” “I don’t know, think of something creative or-”

Before the dimensional psychic could begin to comfort her partner in crime, the 2 dimensional psychic sees something slowly emerge out from part of the van’s top behind Thursotte; a hand phasing out and reaching towards the chaotic psychic’s back leg. “Thurs! Watch out!” she shouts, lunging right out towards Thurs in her attempt to save him from the reaching hand. But in the midst of her efforts in trying to save her friend from the encroaching hand does Frida feel something run down the back of her leg, the 2 dimension psychic peering down to discover a whole arm clutching at her calf. Before the dimensional woman could even attempt to pull herself away from the arms clutches, it jerks her towards the side of the van and tosses her right off. “Frida!” Thursotte screams, scrambling to the side as the limbs return down through the van’s solid surface. Upon peering down from the side of the van, the psychic of chaos fails to see any sign of his partner anywhere along the road; worried whimper seeping out as something from the top of the roof takes a deep breath.

“You’re one hell of a sad sack, you know.” he hears someone insult from behind, prompting him to peer back and discover he’s not the only one on top of the moving vehicle. The ginger haired man that had order the movers from earlier standing halfway submerged through the surface of the roof comes crawling out and rest half risen from the liquidized part of the top; further hazing how: “Got power in the palm of your hands and are just too scared to use it; talking like some frightened little brat going through daddy’s power tools. Just listening to you whine seriously pisses me off!” Though left frightened by their foe’s unexpected appearance, Thurs nonetheless fully turns to face him as he continues with: “Honestly, what good is power if your too scared to use it. Even if you don’t know how it works, you gotta try anyway; see how you can work them into your playbook. Take me for example, I was worried about swimming through surfaces when I first started out, thinking I couldn’t come back up if I delved down deep enough. But I kept on practicing and learned how to go through solids like an Olympic swimmer taking home the gold; or bronze if were being realistic here.” Unrelenting terror courses through Thursotte as Tarot slowly and menacingly approaches, left with practically no room to back away as he edges along the side of the van’s top. “You can’t be scared of what your capable off, kid; how else are you supposed to make your way through this cruel and heartless world.” the swimming psychic claims, reaching his hand towards Thurs neck.

But before the solid swimming psychic could even lay a finger on defenseless Thursotte, a wayward bullet streaks right through Tarot’s hand, urging him to withdraw away from his foe; both he and Thurs peering out in the direction the shot had came from to find Frida hanging out from the back of the van, with part of her 2-D body emerging out from the surface with a smoking pistol in hand. “Can’t believe you were stupid enough to boast like that. Bitch move.” she chastises. The mere site of the gun toting woman having returned compels their foe to delve back underneath the roof of the moving van; both Frida and Thursotte crawling to the very center of the rooftop, standing back to back as they keep their eyes peeled for where the solid swimming psychic could emerge from next. “This guy could attack us from anywhere he wants with a power like that, even right underneath our feet. What do we do?” Thurs questions. “Keep your aura up. He can’t pull us under if we remain on guard.” warns Frida, her and her partner manifesting their aura’s through their bodies.

Despite guarding themselves from their foe’s solid swimming abilities, they fail to take into account what Tarot has on hand; their foe’s arm breaching the solid surface with a pocket knife. Tarot plunged the sharp end of the weapon straight into Frida’s calf; a sharp hiss escapes from the dimensional psychic as she aims the end of her pistol down to the arm, but finds the limb of their foe having already slipped back down under the surface. “Frida!” Thurs exclaims as he turns back to witness his partner buckle on her knee from the stab wound. “The hell are you waiting for. Cause an accident to happen.” she suddenly demands. “But, but I can’t just-” “We don’t have time to think about what’ll happen! Do it now before that bastard comes back up again!”

Pressured by both his partner in crime and the dire situation at hand, Thursotte turns towards the back of the truck and thrust his silver glowing hand downwards to the roof they both stand on; his attempt to run his accident inducing powers through the moving van fail to pull through as a knife thrusts straight through the palm of his hand. “Ahh!” His hands still pierced by the daggers cold steel, the arm that holds the weapon jerks Thursotte forwards and sends him hurdling straight off the top of the moving van; Tarot’s upper half emerging out from the surface as he and Frida watch the chaotic psychic tumble across the road as the van leave him behind in the dust.

“Whelp, I’d say there goes what might’ve been your only trump card. Doubt you can do anything to put the breaks on this delivery now.” Tarot boasts, brandishing a set of twin daggers. Reaching under her jacket, Frida uses her abilities to pull out another pistol that she had stowed away inside the 2 dimensional plane, arming herself with a pair of pistols and firing at her foe; Tarot delves back down under the surface of the roof before a single bullet could even scrape the guy. Dammit, he might be right. Without Thursotte, I doubt there’s much I could do with this solid swimming son of a bitch paddling in this truck. Gotta think of a way to put a bullet right between his eyes, else he might just make mince meat outta me.

The glow of the street lights are all that shed through the vial of shadows overcoming the canal as the lone boat gently glides way across its waters; letting the slender man at the helm steer through the man made river ahead as the ship comes towards a bridge hanging overhead. Right as the small boat was about to start sailing underneath the overpass, a pair of shadow leap off the side of the bridge and delve down towards the ship and land onto the deck just as the ship was entering the darkness. “Huh.” the helmsman utters, gazing behind the window of his cabin. Yet his peek to the deck leads to but a false sense of security as he finds not a shadow among the veil of dark; this distracting the helmsman from noticing the hatch overhead cracking open as a figure slips down inside.

When the ship sails to the other side of the overpass, the returning illumination of the streetlights flood across the deck to confirm somebody standing outside on the opposite end of the boat; a woman with beige hair and a green streak peering out to him with her olive eyes. Upon finding this woman does the helmsman race back to the wheel in an effort to call in for back up, but is stopped dead in his tracks when discovering a man in a purple blazer standing right behind him; a bone chilling fright spreading across his body as this newcomer brushes the back of his palm against his face while whispering: “Shhh. Easy there, guy.” “Wh...Who are you?” “Where just hear to take a peek at what ya got stashed under the deck.” “This boat don’t got nothin on it, I swear.” “Oh…” Wedsle moans before taking a tight grasp at the mans neck and pinning him against the cabin window. “You really shouldn’t lie like that, you tasty piece of slim jim. It don’t make you look pretty.”

The little ship continues its cruise across the canal as Satette peers down into the greenish waters, gazing into her own reflection rippling on the surface; a small sigh expelling out from her as she ponders to herself over the fate of the man she had chased through the superstore, the site of his bleeding corpse still fresh in her mind. Will I have to stomp over some good people like he was if I want to take over the mob? I don’t know if I have the stomach for that. Taking the life of an innocent person, even thinking about its making my skin crawl. That’s why I wanted to start fighting against the mob in the first place, to stop them from pushing illegal drugs on people and ruining people’s lives. Could I really call myself any better if I hurt people like them to reach the top? I don’t wanna do that, I don’t wanna use my powers on a normal human.

Sat interrupts her thoughts when spotting a sizable shadow streak underneath the water and under the deck of the boat; the lively young lady races to the other side of the deck and peers down into that part of the river, finding not even a glimmer of anything hidden under the surface of the canal. That shadow looked way too big to be just a fish passing by, and the chances of a fish that big being in these waters are next to none; unless some jackass dropped a full sized dolphin in these groggy waters, than there’s definitely somebody swimming around down there.

Curious of which of the boat goers could be paddling down through the river beneath them, Satette ventures over to the door of the cabin and knocks on the door; asking: “Hey, how much of the crew you got in there.” “Just this one string bean here. Served fresh and ready to eat, yum.” Wedsle claims. “What are you talking about?” the man questions. “No one else?” Sat makes certain. “Not a soul, why?” I know I saw someone else board that boat, that other woman packing all that meat in her muscle. But why would she just jump ship like this, especially with only the light of the street lamps making it hard to see under there. Did she just feel like taking a little dip?

While wandering to the middle of the deck in her pondering thoughts, some of the river water rises up from the canal face and morphs into the shape of a lengthy tentacle; the growing limb cocking itself back as its shadow stretches along the wood of the boat. Sat notices the shimmering light along the face of the deck, as if somebody had put a clear bowl of water underneath the lamp; the woman turning over towards the shadow to see the tentacle of water launching straight towards her head. The lively young woman feels the water’s cold chill as she evades the watery limbs thrusting assault by just inches, Sat witnessing it crash right into the canal wall hard enough to leave a crater along the concrete; the water from the tentacle splashing down and dripping back into the river. The force behind that blast of water, it have taken my head clean off! That woman didn’t take a dive down just to set up a sneak attack, she delve down into the depths to take control of the river. Gotta warn Wedsle!

Satette bolts to the cabin before their foe could make the next move, slamming herself against the steel door and shouting to the other side: “Wedsle! The psychic, she’s in the river! She can control water!” “Water!?” the purple psychic yelps, glancing out the cabin window and to the rest of the canal ahead. Shit, it all making sense now! They didn’t take the canal so they be less likely to be ambushed, they picked the river cause they had the perfect guard for the route! If we try and swim back to shore now, we’ll be dead before we can even make it halfway! “What do we do?” he hears Satette frantically questions. “Stay on the ship! The wet bitch won’t risk the structural interior of the ship; not unless she wants to risk water logging the cargo. I’ll steer it back to shore!” Taking both hands to the wheel, Wedsle turns hard to port in an effort to head to the side of the canal, but no matter how much the purple psychic makes the wheel spin, the ship continues the course straight down the middle of the river. What the fuck, why isn’t the ship turning!? Wait! This bitch can take control of water right, does that mean she’s got the current under her command? Dammit! If that’s true, than even turning off the engines won’t stop this damn thing, none of the controls will. This whole ship was nothing but a honeypot trap She got us completely cornered; we leaped right in and didn’t realize it until it was far too late!

Left with very little recourse left to take, Wedsle turns to the slender man groveling in the corner of the cabin and picks him pick by the shirt collar; his jesting demeanor earlier with him turn far more serious as he demands to know from him; “Where the hell is this ship supposed to stop!?” “I-uh-uh-ah Ah!” “Speak dammit!” “I-i-i-its supposed to be passing by 7 docks down the canal. That was the route I was given to take! That-that’s all I know! Please don’t hurt me!” blubbers the helmsman. 7 docks down! At this speed, that’s about a 40 minute boat ride. And that’s heading right underneath a couple more bridges. There’s hardly any chance we can fight back against this psychic when smack in the middle of her fucking home field. If we can’t stop this shipment, we can at least try and escape with our lives.

The tension aboard the ship continues to build as it cruises through the grimy water channel, Satette taking cover behind the edge as the threat of their newfound water manipulating foe looms underneath her very feet. Okay Sats, just relax. Like Weds said, she won’t risk puncturing the hull and water logging the supplies. As long as I keep my guard up and stay firmly on deck, we might make it out of this whole mess in one piece. Yet her sense of security is quickly shattered when hearing the sound of rushing water overhead, gazing up to discover a scythe made of river water stretching out from behind the guard; the deadly scythe grazing the young lady’s shoulder as she rolls away from its swing. Sat is left stunned when witnessing the weapon of water rip through the steel guard wall of the ship with very little trouble. Dammit! That underwater hoe can turn the water into whatever she wants. She doesn’t even need to shoot out water at me, she can hit me from anywhere on this boat. Wait, how did she know where I was? She couldn’t possess some kind of sonar or echolocation, neither would work well in this case. Think, Sat. This bitch is swimming right under me and waiting for the right time to strike. She can bide her time all she wants, she still needs to come up for air. And while she’s catching her breath, nothings stopping her from taking a peek of the deck and working from there. All I gotta do is bait her ass out and toss her up here.

Nothing but the chirps of crickets could be heard echoes through the empty New York city block as Thursotte lays in the middle of the road; the young man gazing to the bleeding gash across the palm of his hand and letting out a pained groan while slowly pulling himself off the cold hard concrete. Agh! Crap, that hurt! Should’ve known slapping my hand on the truck wasn’t the best option. Now look where all that panicking has got me, left with my hand impersonating the palm of Jesus Christ and Frida left alone with that solid swimming dick head. Why didn’t I do what Frida said the first time and caused an accident just as the truck was taking off!? There’s no way in hell I can catch them on foot...or, maybe I can.

When standing up on his own two feet, Thurs shift his peepers out towards an alleyway cutting straight through into the neighboring roads on the other side; the front headlights of a car shinning through the alley before it makes the turn. If I remember the route that truck was planning to take, head down south, taking a turn east, then coming back up north, then they should be heading straight towards the Gierno intersection; the walk there from here is much shorter than the drive over. With it being so close to 9, the traffic in that four way intersection is gonna be jammed packed with people coming off their late shifts. If I hurry, I can intercept the truck from there. With a plan swiftly formulated, Thursotte wastes not another moment to bolt through the alleyway and continue down the street on the other side; the man squeezing his wounded hand tightly as the crimson from the gash drips across the concrete. There’s no time to tend to my stab wound now. Not if I wanna make it in time. Don’t worry Frida, I won’t let this be the end of us both; not after everything you done for me!

The pitch black sky blanketing over the city of New York transforms into a bright cloudless sky as Thursotte reminisce of his days about half a year ago, the young man, having come to the U.S and became a citizen, had come fresh out of collage and on the prowl for a job specializing with his major in physics and mathematics. A promising future lay ahead for the young man as he was offered a job at a major startup company which sought his specialty in process engineering. Just in his head alone, Thurs could picture the procedure of an assembly line and most of the parts used in manufacturing; every piece was necessary for the grand picture that was the entire machine. Its how the young man had viewed everything in his life since he was a child; every part serving its purpose to make everything run smoothing in one way, from the specially made parts of an assembly line down to the very way biology has structured organisms. All of it served one purpose or another.

His career seemed to be quickly on the rise as in a few short months, the young man had climbed up from the bottom of the corporate ladder and seemed on his way to the top; a future he had envisioned making for himself far faster than he imagined. In a few more month did the company seemed to be on the path becoming multi-conglomerate, all thanks to the efficiency which he had designed their machines and assembly lines to run. But the depths of discord had rung its ugly head when the startup company had been busted by the FBI for money laundering schemes and corrupt political tampering, countless agents storming the facility and arresting most involved; with the heads of the company seized having vanished without any trace of them left. As the highest ranking member left among them, most of the blame had been pinned on him; and just like that, his unusually swift ascent to the top, granted by his superiors, had been realized in a far more tragic light. They didn’t see him as somebody filled with promise or an asset of grown, but rather a man to take the fall for the scheme they had been building all this time. With no one else to take the fall, the court of justice had thrown the book at him, all with no even a soul to fall back on to, not his coworkers, not his bosses, not even his family out in his home country. There was no one left to stop him from descending into the pits of state prison, doomed to waste half of his life on a crime he hadn’t committed.

Is this it? Had my life ended just as it was beginning? My future, my career, robbed right out from under my own two feet. But just as the path before him was plagued with suffering and troubles, a ray of hope and salvation had beamed through; his bail having been paid in full in that very same month. Thursotte was left speechless over how he had been swept away from cruel fate before him; tears rolling down his cheeks for the first time since he had been sentenced. His clothes and belongings back in his possession, Thursotte had been escorted out from the prison and straight out the front gate, where a woman with a pixie hair cut had been waiting to take him.

The van ride away from the state prison was quiet as countless questions swam through the young man’s head, all of them meant for the lady that had bailed him out from the concrete hellhole they leave behind, all for this complete stranger. A full minute of silence drags out as he decides which of the numerous questions that he had to ask this mysterious woman, finally opening his mouth and coming out with: “Why?” “Huh?” “It doesn’t make any sense. Nobody else believed me. The jury thought I deserved to rot back in that cell, all for something that I had no control over. So why out of everyone in that damn concrete hole did you fish me out?” “...Cause it be a helluva waste.” “Huh?” “Thursotte right? Your the kid that got that company you worked for on the map in just a few months. Letting somebody like you die in a shit hole like that would be a crime onto itself. A damn shame right there.” “So...you believe that I wasn’t the one behind that whole mess.” “Weather anybody believes you or not don’t matter anymore now. You’re a free man.” “Yeah, but this incident...it’s practically stained my life. Anybody I go to now will just see me as the guy involved in that political scheme. Even if they believe I didn’t do any of it, they won’t risk taking somebody like that in. They won’t see a man to hire anymore, they’ll just see a reputation to keep away from. In or out of that prison, my life was ruined then and there. I can’t even go back to my loving parents anymore, not with the borders thinking I’m a dirty money laundering crook...I...I just wanna go back home…” the young man weeps.

“So, branded by the system as a lost cause. All with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Seems like a pretty bad hand life dealt you...But I think you got a few more cards that you could play.” “Wha…” Thurs utters, glancing back up to the lady driving. “I know some people that can appreciate your smarts and put a mind like yours to the fullest of use. So how about it, you wanna join my gang in the mob?” “The mo-...This is why you bailed me out, just to make me join another band of bastards!?” “I ain’t making you do anything, kid. Just showing you a road you could take. I admits its not a pretty one, but its one that might just be best for somebody in your shoes.” the woman assures him. “...Why me? Out of everyone, why take a chance on me?” “Well...someone took one on me when I was at my lowest; real piece of work, but a helluva heart behind them. Figure I might try my luck and do the same for somebody else out here, fish them out of a world that’s spat them out.” “...Just who are you?” “Hmm...Call me Frida.”

Streaks of light swiftly pass over the moving van that the dimensional psychic stands on top of; Frida keeping a sharp eye out for her solid swimming foe with her fingers ready at the trigger for any sign of the red headed bastard. Son of a bitch could pop out from any angle along this van, even right underneath my feet; I’m not sure if my trigger finger’s fast enough to pop a cap in him as soon as he surfaces. Still, the dick still has his faults; I know cause his powers are pretty similar to mine, just switch dimensions with solids. He’s gotta come up for air sooner or later, and I doubt he’s gonna get any from inside the bed of the van, not with it being stuffed with explosives and shit. Just listen for him gasping for air and make the shot; one bullet through the head and this van is ours. Knowing to listen to the sound of breath being drawn in, Frida keeps her ears, as well as her eyes, open for any sign of her foe emerging out from the airless inside of the ammo filled moving van; keeping her twin pistols aimed in opposite direction if he attempts to ambush from either side.

The dimensional psychic educated guess proves correct as she hears a sharp inhale sound out from behind her, quickly glancing back to find her ginger foe breaching the surface with daggers in hand; Tarot aiming the edge of his blade towards the back of her neck. Can’t shoot him in time! Rather then attempt to pop one off on the guy lunging at her, Frida opts to go on the defensive and guards against her foe’s weapon with the top of her pistol; the daggers sharp edge scrapping the iron top of the gun and keeping her neck in tact. But attempting to aim her pistol at the solid swimming psychic, the ginger gent swings his other dagger at the gun and keeps the barrel of the gun away from his body; both Frida and her foe left stuck as they keep the other from attacking.

The stalemate is suddenly broken when Tarot shoves the lady with the pixie cut away and sends her fumbling to the edge of the moving van; the solid swimmer delving back within the van as Frida tips off the side of the van’s roof. Yet the 2 dimensional psychic manages to save herself from completely falling off the side as she slips her foot into the edge of the roof and lets the rest of herself falling right into the side of the van in suite; Frida taking in a deep breath before her head merges with the wall of the vehicle. The 2 dimensional woman feels a sense of relief when managing to save herself from falling off the moving van entirely; though that reprise is swept aside when witnessing the pair of daggers brandished by her foe’s arms emerge out from both of her sides and thrusts their tips out against her. Frida slides across the surface of the van as she evades the knives that pierce through the thin metal hide. The 2 dimensional woman climbs back to the top of the van as she dodges her foe’s constant stabbings assault, returning to the 3rd dimension as she stands right back up on the roof. Dammit, I have even less of an advantage on the side of the van than I have up here. Son of a bitch can breach the surface faster than I can cross the dimensional plain. Feels like my best bet at this point is to stay on top and try to predict where he’ll spring next...or maybe I don’t need to predict where he’s gonna pop out.

Frida slowly backs away to the very corner of the moving van as she keeps her eyes to its flat top she stands on and the sides, keeping one pistol aimed out before her and another hanging along back; the woman with the pixie cut prepared for her foe to emerge from inside the van at any moment and attempt to strike her down. The sound of a sharp breath drawn sets off the alarms in her head that the ginger gent is making his move, but fails to see a single piece of his red head anywhere on top of the van or on its side; so she glances back to find him emerging out from the back corner, swinging his dagger out to the gun woman’s other leg. But Frida proves a step ahead as she twirls the pistol aiming downwards in his direction, pulling the trigger with her pinkie and managing to shoot at Tarot’s hand; the bullet piercing through the swimmers wrist and knocking one of his daggers out from his grasp, sending it hurdling away from the moving van. “Baited, you bitch!” Frida proclaims as her foe dives back into the van. Got him there, but something tells me that guy ain’t gonna fall for the same trick twice. Need to come up with another plan to put a bullet through his brains before he sticks his cold steel into mine.

“The hell do you mean you don’t know anything about her!?” Wedsle further questions the helmsman. “Annie? Swear I don’t, honest.” the man frighteningly claims. “Quit fucking lying to me!” “I promise I’m not. Look, all I know about her is that she took the job to help out with delivering the food donated and that she suggested we take the canal down. Said there’d be less chance of being robbed like that. That’s all I know! Please, don’t hurt me.” he begs, a wet stain growing in his pants. This guy might not be bullshitting after all. He could really think this was just some food run and that bitch left him in the dark; this poor bastard really was just set up as nothing but bait. The sweet nectar nestled right in the middle of this deadly Venus fly trap.

Left with virtually nowhere to run or hide, Satette stands right in the middle of the ships deck as she frantically peers around the sides of the boat for any sign of liquid rising up from the river surrounding them; her breathing uneasy as she remembers the blast of water she dodged earlier holding enough force to blast concrete apart. This is so much worse then I could’ve prepared for, played right in the enemies hands with practically nothing to defend myself with. I mean what are the chances of a pigeon or bat flapping right by out of convenience sake? The thought of transforming any passing avian lucky enough to roost right on this sailing ship draws her attention to the greenish waters of the canal, where she witnesses a lone bass leaping out from the surface. The fish in this river might make good weapons; But if I dip even a toe in the water, I might as well just be another body under its depth alongside all the other unsolved murders of New York. Dammit, there’s gotta be something around here I can use, maybe in the cabin.

Wondering such, Sat inches her way over to the door leading into the cabin and knocks on the door to grab her purple partner in crime’s attention; questioning him if: “You get anything else out from the helmsman?” “Nada, dude’s fucking in the dark here.” “Ah. Well, is there anything in there I can work my magic on? A stowaway dog, a snake, maybe a bird that flew in?” “Ummm...Oh, I know something?” “Yeah?” she happily utters, backing away from the door to let Weds step out.

As soon as the door leading into the cabin, the slight relief she feels over the purple psychic finding the key out off this mess diminishing as she sees Wedsle stepping out with the helmsman held in his clutches, claiming to her that: “Got your weapon in waiting right here, Sat. Should be enough meat and bone on this guy to make a whole arsenal, go ahead and get to crackin.” “Wait, what!” “Weds, I-...Are you out of you’re mind!?” Satette then barks. “The hell do you mean?” “What the hell do you mean what do I mean!? Take a person and distort their body into something else entirely?” “You do that all the time with snakes, bugs, and other animals.” “As opposed to a human being!? Do you even know what your asking me to do!?” “Satette, we are going to die if we don’t do something here. We don’t have the luxury of considering morals and ethics when the jaws of death are looming over us. You wanna go with the certainty of us dying here, or do you wanna take the chance on using your powers on this guy hoping that he’ll live after?” “I...Ah…”

With little argument against her partner combined with their lives on the line, Satette fail to see any other compromise in this near hopeless situation and slowly begins to approach the helmsman trapped in her violet partners grasp; the man letting out frightened whimpers in the midst of his uncontrolled sniveling as the lively young lady approaches. Sat runs her natural green aura across her shaking palms as she slowly reaches towards the helpless mans, inching closer and closer to their victim as he braces himself for the worst. Alas, at just hair’s length of slapping her organic tissue influencing hands on the man, she stops short and backs away; tears running down her cheeks as she weeps that: “I can’t...I can’t do it. I don’t have it in me. Its...its just wrong.”

An act of refusal which proves detrimental when an unexpected jet of water is shot out from the side and pierces straight through her left shoulder; Wedsle struck horrified as the lively young woman is struck with enough force to send her flying off the boat. “Sat!” The blood from her wound splatters across the deck of the ship as Satette is cast off and falls down in the canal; a trail of crimson flowing across the greenish waters as her body down into the depths. Wedsle is left ultimately speechless having witnessed the demise of his fresh new partner in crime, the man that he had held slipping away from his grasp and frantically jumping ship as he screams: “That’s it, I’m getting out of here.”

“Shame.” the purple psychic suddenly hears come from the nose of the boat, turning his sites back to the front to witness a muscular figure donning armor made from river water emerging out from the canal and climb on board. “Had she had not held off, you two possibly would have at least escaped this watery hell with your lives.” The swirling water helm covering this persons head unravels to unveil the same woman with jet black locks had they had seen board the boat with the helmsman. “Her hesitance however had signed both her death warrant, and yours.”

Despite her words ringing true for the violet psychic, Wedsle nonetheless refuses to simply stand back and let this liquid controlling foe finish him where he stands as he makes a sudden charge out against her; swiftly nearing to drive his fist straight into his watery foe’s kidney. Yet his already hopeless efforts to at least strike back are shown to be in vain as the water guarding her body bursts with overwhelming; Weds battered by the water as the sheer force of the splash sends him slamming into the steel wall of the cabin. “I’m afraid your efforts are folly. I can control the water surrounding me to do whatever I want. You try anything and I’ll make it burst out with the force of a shotgun. There’s only one way out of this for you now and its the way your little friend took: Sleeping with the fish.” But even with these overwhelming and hopeless odds being explained to him, it fail to deter the purple psychic as lifts his battered and wet body off the deck of the ship and gets back up. Sat…I should’ve know better than to think someone so fresh in this business had the stomach to do something so callus towards somebody, especially with what we got in it for. If there’s even a remote chance in hell that you’re still alive after taking it in the shoulder, you better have some kind of plan boiling in your head.

The moving van’s drive into the beginning of the inner city highway starts growing crowded as numerous other vehicles move along with it, cars and trucks cruising close to its front and back as well as its sides. The drivers of these nearing automobile left astonished as they witness the two psychic fighting atop the moving truck, Frida moving across the two dimensional plane of the van while her foe swims through the inside as easily as water. When the 2 dimensional psychic is in the midst of returning to the 3rd dimension from the side of the van for a breath of air, Tarot breaches his arm out right beside her and swipes his dagger towards her head, Frida stopping his slash with the trigger guard of her gun. Before as the pixie cut gal could aim her other pistol right to her foe’s arm, his limb slinks back down underneath the surface of the van just when she was about to pull the trigger. Dammit!

Up on the top of the moving van, Tarot breaches the upper half to the surface so that he can take in a much needed breath of fresh air; the man swiftly peering through his surroundings as he catches his breath for a sign of his 2 dimensional foe. In his glance around does he discover the side of Frida’s upper half emerging out from edge of the van’s roof and pointing her pistol right at his face, Tarot making an upward slash at the woman’s gun and forcing her aim above just as she pulls the trigger; the bullet firing up and hitting the wall of a nearby building. Frida breach her other pistol up from the 2nd dimension and aims at her solid swimming foe to correct her mistake; the man quickly delving underneath the van’s surface just as she fires, the shot not even scratching him as he dives back down.

Shit! He’s playing way more cautiously now; making moves that he knows he can withdraw from in case I dodge or block any swings he throws at me. The size of this van ain’t helping my case either; being in an enclosed space makes it hard to aim at him in the split second; even if I did take away this asshole’s toys, he’ll still have the advantage of range. Need to figure out a way to stop this damn van if I want the field back on my side. Killing the driver might do it, but going in the driver’s section would close the distance between me and that solid swimming shit hole even more; it’d be a death sentence. Could shoot the wheels and cause an accident like that, but who know’s how big of a payload these guys got stashed in here; if the spark of my bullet causes the rubber to ignite, this van could explode and take out the whole block along with all of us. Come on, Frida, think; before this guy figures out his next move.

Tarot swimming within the inside of the van meanwhile ponders on how to dispose of their unwanted passenger, thinking of ways to approach the woman without taking a bullet to the head. She’s rather adept at fending off close combat for somebody used to gun play; but the odds are still in my favor; as long as don’t completely breach the surface, I can dive back down before she has the chance to pull the trigger. Still, I need to do something to catch her off guard if I wanna make my move. She looked a little on edge before I delve back down; might be because she’s starting to realize the pickle she’s in. I imagine a brief fake out would be enough to lend me an opening and let me finish this scuffle before it gets too ugly.

Yet before the solid swimming psychic could come to the surface and enact his little strategy, he is suddenly jerked forward as he feels the van pound on the breaks; the unexpected momentum forcing him through the middle of the passenger seat, leaving the man and woman sitting inside utterly astonished by his sudden appearance between them. “T-Tarot!? What the heck!? H-How are you going through the seat like that!?” the guy squeals. “What?” the solid swimmer utters as he peers out the front window, finding the van having made a complete stop in front of another car. Puzzled over the moving van’s sudden halt on its route, Tarot violently clutches the woman at the wheel by her shirt collar, pulling her in to shout: “Why did you stop the van!?” “Agh! There was an accident up ahead; I had to stop.” “Don’t just sit there blathering, back it up now!” “I-I-I can’t.” Parked smack in the middle of the in city highway, a dozen other vehicles surround the small moving van; the van left with no other way out as the cars and trucks are put in park. “We’re totally boxed in.”

This doesn’t make sense, how could a simple accident cause this big of a traffic pile up so fast? Peering out the window does Tarot behold the scene of the accident involving broken road chunks left from bursting pipes, knocked over street lights, and debris fallen off from a building right beside the road. But what really catches his attention is the silver light running through some of the debris and lamps making up the blockade. Aura? So a psychic caused this. But how did-. Its in pondering how this accident accord that he remembers the exchange between his pistol wielding foe and her partner: “The hell are you waiting for. Cause an accident to happen.” he remembers her demanding. “But, but I can’t just-” “We don’t have time to think about what’ll occur! Do it now before that bastard comes back up again!” That little gremlin I knocked off, this must’ve been his work. They have to had review the route we were taking and he went between all the alleyways as a shortcut. They’ve had us pinned from the start!

Among the realization of their delivery jackers having been several steps ahead of them, Tarot peers behind the driver he still has in his grasp to discover the small barrel of his foe’s pistol aimed right at his head from the other side of the open window. Nice work, Thurs. Knew you’d pull through in the end. Just when Frida was about to bust a led cap in this solid swimming psychic, she hesitates when the guy jerks the driver right in the way of her shot as he retreats back into the van’s depths. Slippery motherfucker!

With very little point in staying anymore, the van he was meant to guard completely stuck in the still highway traffic, Tarot cuts his loses to makes his retreat diving into the concrete and swims away from the scene as fast as an Olympian fleeing from the encroaching mouth of a crocodile; moving underneath the beds of the cars and trucks as cover from the gun woman’s site line. Yet his escape proves not as clean as he hopes it turns out to be; as right in swimming in between the line of parked vehicles stuck in traffic, a bullet tears straight through Tarot’s bicep muscle. The solid swimmer clutches his shot arm as he glares back to where the bullet had came from, alarmed to find the 2 dimensional psychic having fired at him from right between a tiny space grazing the column of parked cars; all the while she sits half flattened on the side of a truck door. “You were dumb enough to boast, and even stupider to run away. You might’ve made it out of this alive if you didn’t decide to try your luck running from somebody with guns.”

Before the 2 dimensional gun woman could take another shot at him, Tarot delves down into the concrete and swims down below the highway streets; his swimming crippled from the bullet wound from both his arm and hand. The sewer. Its not ideal, but its my only way out; its my only escape from this horrible nightmare. Yet no matter how deep he manages to dives down under the city streets, all that awaits the concrete swimmer inside the sewage system was nothing but running water, all without even a bubble of air to bring him relief. Peering back to where the water rushes to, Tarot is astonished to find whole chunks of concrete having clogged the sewer line. What!? How the hell did the sewers cave in like this!?...The accident! Some chunk of the road broke down and must have sunk down here. They didn’t just trap the van, they trapped me here too.

The solid swimming psychic could feel the last of his air escaping from him before he could think of another exit out from the barricaded sewer system, leaving him little recourse but to rush back up to the surface before his lugs run out completely. This isn’t good. With my arm wounded so badly, I can’t swim fast to escape. The moment I go up for air, that pixie cut wench will hear me breathing and try to blow my brains out. There has to be somewhere I can hide to catch my breath. One of the cars, I can in one of the cars and wait it out til I make my escape.

In his return up to the surface, Tarot breaches into the passenger side of a truck stuck within the traffic to take in a much needed breath of air; his unexpected appearance causing the driver to jump right out of his seat and shout: “Yo, what the fuck!?” This sudden outcry draws the attention of the pistol wielding woman standing atop one of the cars nearby; Frida peering within to discover her solid swimming foe halfway above the passenger seat and takes aim through the closed window. The mere act of attempting to shoot her from inside the closed off insides, drawing out an amused chuckle from the guy. Go ahead and shoot at the window; the glass will tank a bullet or two long enough for me to dive back down and make my escape.

But again does his prediction fail to play out as Frida pulls the triggers and shoots a bullet straight towards Tarot’s head; the swimmers confidence breaking apart as he sees the shot bullet turn two dimensional on impact with the closed window and slide up and over the tiny crack hidden in between the top of the window and under the car roof. After slipping right into the other side of the window, the bullet returns to the third dimension and streaks right through the swimmers brains; the blood splattering out from the back of his head and staining the cushion of the passenger seats. “Holy shit!” driver witnessing this exclaims. Frida spins the tip of her freshly fired pistol right next to her mouth and blows away the smoke from the barrel as she watches the man she had shot slowly sink down through the seats, the guy raising his arm to the sky as he sinks through the truck and into the depths of the city underground. Huh. Neat.

The two within the moving vans seats are left utterly perplexed of what they had just come to witness; both the man and woman breathing heavily as they attempt to process the events that played out, the guy going: “So, Tarot just came through the wall...then a flat woman with a pistol slide across the window and tried shooting at us… but stopped when Tarot tried using you as a shield...Did I get all that right or…?” “I don’t know, man. I just wanna get this night over with and go home.” “Don’t sweat it, you’ll do just that.” a third among them assures, the driver completely frightened when gazing back to her friend to find the woman from earlier slipping through the crack of the window and emerging out from the wall as she holds one of her pistols against the back of the guy’s head. “You’ll make it home. Just as long as you take a little detour for us. That sound good too you?” “D-Do what she says, please.”

Racing away from the road collapse that he had triggered, Thursotte stops right in the middle of the street and peers out to the moving van filled with ammunition and explosives, searching for any sign of his two dimensional traversing partner in crime. Come on, Frida. Gimme a sign, anything to tell me if everything alright. In gazing to the side of the moving van, the chaos inducing psychic finds a two dimensional arm sliding out from inside the drivers side; Thurs nearly collapsing on his knees in relief when seeing the hand of his partner give him a thumbs up. Yes...we did it.

A thin streak of crimson floats across the greenish river as the ship continues to sail through the canal; the purple psychic on board evading the deathly whips of water flung out by his water controlling foe, with drops splashing against Wedsle face as the watery whip cracks. When her whip fails to land a hit against her ships stowaway, the muscular woman transforms the water surrounding her arm into a lethal blade and makes horizontal slashes out to the man dressed in violet; Weds ducking under and jumping over every swing his watery foe makes at him. Yet he fails to make it out from the flurry of swings completely unscathed, as the watery sword slides across his skin and makes a few cuts along his arms and legs. But despite having these wounds inflicted upon him, Wedsle refuses to give up as he makes a bounding leap right over another of Annie’s liquid slashes; the water controlling woman quickly forms a small cannon along the side of her liquid sword, pointing directly to the violet psychic in the midst of descending from his jump. Before Wedsle’s feet could even touch the ground, the cannon fires out a concentrated blast of water straight into his chest with enough force to send him sliding across the deck and slamming into the side of the cabin; the purple psychic entire body trembles as he lets out pained groan and clutches his chest. Agh! Yep. That’s definitely a broken rib.

“I don’t enjoy this either, you know.” he then hears Annie proclaim. “Says the watery bitch holding all the cards.” Weds growls back. “His holiness had assigned me to this task as a form of security; though I prayed that no trouble would come in our sailing trip through this canal. Not for our sake, but for those who you serve would send to their doom.” “So you know what’s all stashed in this tugboat. Ain’t it a little hypocritical for you guys to be getting weapons?” “I can understand why you make that assumption. The hypocrisy sickens me to my core as well. But when hearing the exploits of your masters and the corrupting stranglehold they held on this fair city; his holiness made me understand that keeping to my values would not be enough. That in order to protect those which I hold dear, I would have to turn my back against all that I’ve been taught thus far. I’m sure you can understand given your position.”

Amidst listening to the water controlling psychic to him about compromising her values for what she claims to be the sake of others, Wedsle’s attention is drawn over to the trail of scarlet floating over the waters surface; the violet mobster noticing the red moving back towards the boat. Wait, how did Sat’s blood move like that? The current’s not strong enough to carry it this close towards the boat. Unless...She’s alive; and in the midst of making her move! Can’t let this liquid bitch catch on, need to distract her.

“How do you figure that?” he retorts back with his best poker face. “I’m aware that those among your ranks are not as sinful as your superiors; some of you took part in this due to unfortunate circumstance. Needing the finances to save a loved one, driven by the hope of escaping from poverty, or simply having been forsaken by this cruel world with no other path to survive. My soul truly does weep for you.” “If you figured that, then why mercilessly slaughter us like fucking cows in a butcher factory? You think there ain’t any better solutions than just self righteous murder?” “Not with the stakes this dire, I’m afraid. I’m sure you understand the blasphemous powers other’s like you and I possess. I’ve been told by his holiness that your superiors holds abilities unlike anything we have come to witness, those which could steer the course of this worlds fate.” Wait, these guys know about the boss? Do they really have that kind of power? “With the evil holding this city in its clutches, growing in power by the day, I’m afraid there is little time for us to sort which of you deserve judgment or not. The day of reckoning is upon us, and with its approach, we must act.” Annie regretfully informs, clasping her watery arms together to form a sharp great scythe. “I am truly sorry. My only prayer left for you is that God grants you mercy.” A prayer which the water controlling woman carries out as she thrust the sharp tip of her liquid scythe at the injured mobster at her mercy.

But when just short of plunging the tip of her watery weapon through the man’s flesh, the liquid controlling psychic feels a sharp pain drive itself into her back; quickly glancing over to discover the young woman she had blasted off the ship not long ago on her back; what she stabbed with her back side being a knife made of thin bone, flesh and scales. Annie’s armor reflexively knocks her thought to be dead foe off her with a blast of water, sending the lively lady off and slam into the guard rail with enough force to dent the metal. Even with having repelled her purple foe’s partner off, the liquid manipulating psychic is still left at an astonishing loss over the woman’s return from her watery grave, questioning aloud: “I made clean shot straight into your shoulder! How in God’s name have you not bled to death!?” Upon gazing to where she had blasted the young woman does she find her answer when seeing a patch of gnarly green algae covering her shoulder; Annie admitting that: “You used the algae laying on the bottom of the canal to shut your wound? Unsanitary, though I admire the quick thinking. However…” The watery psychic withdraws her scythe away from Wedsle and returns her liquid limbs to her side; forming them both into a pair of great hammers as she claims that: “You would’ve been better off following my partners example and fleeing to live another day.” “And leave my partner to die in your hands? Hell no! I ain’t gonna just ditch my buddies when the water starts to simmer.” “I see. Even in the face of death, you refuse to abandoned those close to you. Your loyalty is truly admirable. I have no doubts that even with transgressions weighing against you, the gates of heaven will be open to you when you pass.”

Even with the threat of the liquid psychic brandishing such deathly water weapons against her, Satette’s confidence fail to waver as she peeks behind her foe to Wedsle sitting against the wall and ask: “Yo, Weds. You okay back there?” “Yeah. Just a broken rib or two. I’ll live.” “Cool, hey. I was thinking about stopping by to pick up some food for me and my girl. You know of any good food around here?” “Uh, depends on what you want. Chinese?” “Nah, we had that few nights ago. Thinking of something a little more zesty.” “I’d say Italian, but the only thing around here is Olive garden. Those motherfuckers burnt by 40 dollar pasta, its bullshit.” “Oh yeah. The pizza there’s awful too; swear its nothing but glue on cardboard.” “Maybe get pizza from somewhere else then, plenty of places around here.” “Long as it ain’t Little Caesars. Every time I get pizza from there, I wind up getting terrible shits the following morning.” “Too much info there, but good call. There’s this one joint we stopped by that had the fuckin fluffiest melt in your mouth bread ever. Shit felt like eating a cloud with toppings.” “Really? What it called?” “Trying to remember, it had weird ass name. Monty might know, he’s better at remembering this shit than me? I think that-”

“Enough!” Annie suddenly demands, lunging out against the lively psychic with twin hammers in tow. Before she faces her foe’s watery wrath, Sat delves right underneath the muscular woman’s legs to evade her pinching assault, the pair of hammers letting out a wet ting as their head hit each other. “Arrogant little...You speak as if you’ve already won, but I still stand alive and well. If you wish to travel through the gates of heaven, such pride must be tempered before the journey.” The liquid controlling psychic again swings out at her retreating foe, stretching the necks of the hammers out after her and making horizontal swings; Satette ducking and leaping right under and over every sweeping assault Annie makes. That’s it, keep swinging. Just little longer now.

“Do you sincerely believe you have the best of me just because I can’t strike this ship?” the watery psychic wonders. “I wouldn’t say believe, more like I do.” “Well then. I suppose that confident won’t do you much good when it buckles under you.” “Under?” Sat utters, driving her eyes down to the deck she stands on. The lively psychic is left alarmed when glancing down to her feet, discovering herself standing right in the middle of a thin puddle of river water covering a chunk of the deck. Annie reforms her arm and thrusts it straight down into this sheet of water, causing a powerful upwards geyser to be unleashed from its surface; one so powerful, it sends Sat flying a dozen feet hurdling above the canal. The liquid controlling psychic’s other arm reforms into the shape of a small cannon; water gathering within as she aims the end of the weapon directly at her flying foe. “May your flesh enter sanctuary and your soul be forever blessed in the name of the lord, Ame- Ah...Ah!” Just mere seconds before Annie could blast the water gathered in her cannon, a terrible pain courses through her body that causes her aim to falter as she launches the high pressure water ball; the cannon ball streaking just a few inches away beside Sat as it rockets up towards the pitch black night sky.

Despite having evaded the high velocity water cannon by the skin of her teeth, Satette continues to plummet back down to the Earth; threatening plunge back into the canal. But the young woman is spared from falling into her watery grave when she’s saved just in the nick of time, Wedsle having reached out from the side of the ship and caught her in his arms; the violet psychic letting out a painful hiss as he pull Sat back onto the deck. “Nice catch. You okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine. But what the hell is up with her?” Weds wonders, pointing over to the woman that had just launched her in the sky. The layer of river water had shielded Annie’s body melts off to reveal the liquid psychic violently shaking and convulsing in agony. Her breathing growing extremely heavy as she falls to her knees; a stream of vomit suddenly expelling out from her mouth. “About time the algae I stabbed in her started kicking in.” “Whoa, what?”

“Algae...how did…?” their foe utters in between breaths, suddenly remembering the knife that was plunged into her back; the tip having been coated in a layer of river algae. “But...your shoulder...how...are you not...in agony!?” “I kept the algae covering my wound from seeping any further in my body, just enough to stop me from bleeding. But I had the layer of green I stabbed in you force itself through your body and spread all over to accelerate the toxins. How does it feel vomiting your guts out, I imagine it hurts like hell.” “You little...witch!” Annie grunts, reaching around her back to try and pull the knife in her back out. But when feeling across her backside for where she had been stabbed, all that the watery psychic could feel back there was a small hole left where the dagger had been stuck into; the panic in Annie’s voice growing as she shouts: “That little knife?...Where’d...Did it get blasted off?” “Guess again, you wicked wet hag? That knife I plunged into you didn’t just come out of nowhere. While I was taking a swim through the canal, I manage to snag a carp straight out from its commute and morph it into the weapon I plunged straight into your back. I’ll give you one chance to guess where that little guys is now.” “No…”

As if right on queue, the liquid controlling psychic feels something burrow through her insides, the side of her lower torso bulging out until a river bass comes bursting out from her stomach in a mess of mucus and blood; Annie vomiting out a mixture of bile and blood as the fish squirms out from her body. “Holy shit!?” Wedsle screams. “You...You devil!” their foe screeches, using her power to make the river water surrounding them burst out in several columns of gushing water; these pillars of river water taking the form of an entire arsenal of cannons and weapons aimed squarely down towards the boat all of them stand on. But all that wound up raining from the sky be nothing a small drizzle as the columns break apart and splash back down into the canal; the muscular woman that held their influence collapsing onto the deck and dropping dead where she stood, with her leaking blood diluting with the puddles of river water.

A relieving sigh escapes from Sat’s mouth as the boat both her and Wedsle stand in finally comes to a complete stop in the middle of the canal; the two of them lying down against the side of the ship as they bask in the now peaceful river. “That had me on edge for a good minute there. Thought for sure one of us was gonna wind up drowned and waterlogged; washing up on the shore and chalked off as nothing but another body among the dozen other’s under the waves. Glad I thought of that river moss trick. Right?” Satette gleefully basks in, but is left worried when her purple partner in crime fails to respond. “We-Weds...You doing alright?” “Yeah, just...You scared the shit outta me for a sec there…” “Eh, don’t worry. We got outta that in the end.” “Cause we lucked out.” “Oh, come on. Don’t be-” “Satette, I’m serious. The only reason our sorry asses lived through this sopping wet nightmare was because the right pieces were with us at the right time. If even any one of them weren’t here, neither of us would be even so much as breathing right now.” Wedsle claims. “Your...point?” “I ain’t the kind of guy that likes relying on luck; shit like that can turn at the spur of the moment and fuck you over. I saw an opportunity for us to make our escape and you were scared to go through with it.” “What? Us-using the helmsman back there. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t-” “None of us can rely on the fickle hand of lady luck to bail us out; especially when she’s dealt all of us bad hands most of our lives. How far do you think sticking to your guns’ll get ya in this kind of business; telling yourself that you won’t stoop to some artificially placed level before you wind up dead in some ditch?” “Weds, I-” “In our line of work, with what were trying to do here; the people going against us won’t hesitate for a single second to do anything if it means taking home the gold, even if that involves doing monstrously heinous shit to our fellow man. Not the mob, not the cult, and neither can we. We’ll be left remembered as nothing but a stepping stone on their way to the top.” “So what? You just want me to be some kind of monstrous, callous bitch that uses people!?” “No, just...You can’t take an opportunity for granted when our lives are on the line. Believe when I say that I wish that weren’t the case, but like I said, we don’t have that luxury anymore, not the rest of the tight spots were forced to go through if we want to make our dreams a reality.” “I...Agh…” the lively young woman sighs, lowering her head down into her knees. “Where’s that pizza place you were talking about again?”

The breeze from the canal slithers southwest through the city and seeps into to every open window set along 20 miles along that direction; this blissful night air cooling every apartment along the way, including the abode of Sat and her lover as they enjoy the steaming hot pizza she had brought home for them both. “I-I just don’t know what to do, Janna. I can see where Wedsle’s coming from in all this, but it still just doesn’t feel right. I know the mob and cult wouldn’t stop from doing the same, but still; even when in my head it made complete sense, the moment I reached for the guy driving the ship, I couldn’t do it; It just felt like my heart and soul were pulling me back what my brain was trying. All of it’s making me wonder if I have the stomach to go through with breaking the mobs hierarchy if it means I got to use innocent people like that.” “Satsy, I know where your coming from; people like the mob already drag this world down for the worse. But I don’t think your taking this dilemma in the right way.” “The right way of using people for your own ends?” “Or for others. Your not putting yourself through this just for your sake; you’ve seen what those mobsters done to the people of this city for their own ends, even going so far as to push drugs on down on their luck kids living on the streets. You on the other hand aren’t doing it for yourself, your doing it for everyone around you; to make this rats nest of a city a better place for people. Keep that in mind the next time your in that kind of predicament.” “I don’t know, just going that far? Won’t I turn out just as bad as them?”

“Satsy, no; Your fearing the hypocrisy more than the consequences. It…The situation can vary, but it’s like that whole dilemma with kill or be killed, in a position with an irredeemable serial killer; and if they don’t, there’s a good chance that they or someone they know and love is gonna die. What do you think the more practical option is best for them, that they just stand on the sidelines and watch the people suffer, knowing they stuck to their guns and didn’t betray their code; or...Using someone else to kill the guy and save the people you care for, despite breaking your vow.” “I guess, but isn’t there still a line?” “Of course there is, I-It largely depends on the situation though. Like don’t go rushing into something without taking all in first, that’s how ill action happens. Don’t go terrorizing a bunch of people just cause their ethnic group is blamed for your problems. Come on. Just...see the bigger picture and find what’s really the root cause of it. Put the weapon down, you jackass.”

“Then what would you have done...in my case.” Sat then straight up asks her girlfriend. “In a life or death thing like that, umm...I know your not gonna like hearing this, but-” “You’d use that innocent helmsman to protect yourself...and the people with you.” “I know it sounds pretty damn bad. But some people, weather they wanna or not, are kinda are forced to do stuff like that to survive. Stealing stuff, scamming people, working for heinous organizations; when it comes to living another day, those things might just be their only option. It sucks, but that’s the way this morally dubious world works for...probably half, maybe more people.” “I don’t...Agh…” Sat groans, slinking down into their couch. “But as long there’s people like you willing to put themselves out there for others, it might not have to be as bad as that.” Janna claims, this sentiment urging her girl to glance back to her. “You think so?” “I know so. If history has told us anything, it takes just one person starting a wave to changes the world. And it wasn’t cause they were destined to or some other shitty story cliché like that, it was them. It was cause of who they are that they drove the world for the better or for the worse. So Sats, tell me what you want. Why are facing these seemingly impossible odds?”

Upon being questioned of her dream, Satette remembers the scene she had witnessed of a drug dealer trading cocaine to a desperate young child for money, the couple that fought over their money woes and the other’s drug habits, and to the camp of homeless souls left to sit underneath the highway. Even remembering her own woes in life, her father’s passing, the struggling of living in the streets. Each of these people and experiences made the answer clear to her. “I wanna take over the mob and use their power and influence to help others instead of hurting them.” “Then that’s all you need to know to change life for the better.” “Sweets...thank you.” “Don’t mention it, now come here.” Janna concludes, leaning in to Sat to give her girl an embracing kiss. But just when the two of them were enjoying each others warming holds, Satette suddenly feels Janna swiftly pull herself away; the lively young woman wondering: “W-what’s wrong?” “Girl, your breath is hella nasty! How much of that garlic butter did you take in?” “Hey, you don’t got anything to stand on either, what with you ordering mushrooms and fish on your half.” Upon accusing one another of their foul breath, both girls break out into giggling laughter as they hold each other tighter; Janna softly claiming that: “I love you.” “I love you too.”

#lillaxtrigger #original writing

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