Luminous Beings

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn walked.

She was fuming.

Literally.

Her ears were ringing and Lynn's hands were buried deep into her pockets. She feared if she had them at her sides, she'd have nothing to keep her from igniting and burning a trail visible from - well, space - through the forest. Faces swam up into her field of view. Natalie. Clarita. Archie. Che. Amelia. Megan. Keaton. Lucy. For a brief moment she couldn't remember if it had been Archie who had stayed behind at the scene or Che, if the dead body had been wearing a Promise uniform or -

Lynn closed her eyes and stopped walking. It had been some twenty minutes, and even she could not stay truly furious that long. Her heart still thundered in her ears but it was slower, more methodical. Amelia and Keaton had come along for a bit before Lynn told them to say nothing to the police when they got brought in. Absolutely nothing. The police had nothing on them. But someone was going to talk.

The faces swam back. Someone always talked. Even if they didn't rat her out right away. Someone would. They'd threaten Spoons or Archie or Keaton with jail time and one of them would blubber away. I cannot believe I am fucking thinking this but Amelia may be the one person I can even halfway fucking rely upon right now.

Lynn looked around the forest. It was poorly lit aside from the light the glowing girl gave off, which made the shadows dance behind every branch, flickering and darting away as Lynn turned to face them square-on. She was as alone as she reckoned she could be. The gentle rush of the river had let her a while ago, and Lynn saw no signs of any academic buildings or anything nearby. She thought back to what happened, trying to organize her thoughts. That was how people got caught. They didn't get organized. Lynn closed her eyes, pushing the fear that she'd be killed next out of her mind for a moment. She had practice with that.

Evidence. Lynn didn't touch anything at the scene and didn't leave any hair that wasn't ash. She didn't think there was any hard evidence, and if the ground was muddy, she was sure there were enough footprints to make hers clearly distinguished.

Motive. Lynn didn't know that guy. He wasn't a cop, so he didn't deserve to die out of hand. So there was nothing there.

Opportunity. Lynn frowned. There was no way Lynn could've carved him up, and no burn marks on him, anyway. Plus she had to have tortured him - there was no way she had time to do that in the hospital. She'd been under constant surveillance. Lynn frowned. Cara.

Lynn chewed on her lip, which was already close to bleeding in the brisk air. It didn't matter they had nothing on her. She was an easy fall guy, she knew, and she didn't expect to not get locked up for this, but they had no solid case at all. I was always going to get the needle. Before I came on this fucking spaceship. Before I ever met Che. Before any of this shit. They should've put it in my arm the minute my mother looked in my eyes and saw they'd changed. And they should've stuck her, too. Camera footage of her going in the woods, and that was literally it. They've got me in the hospital, spotted by the nurses an hour before. They have, like, medical logs and shit. Damnit they had nothing on any of them. Nothing. Why did you call the cops? Lynn thought, furiously. Or maybe she said it out loud. She wasn't sure. I could've kept you all safe. I wouldn't have fucked up this time. Lynn stared into the dark, eyes blank. "I could've lived, you stupid shits," Lynn muttered. "We all could've lived." The hit-by-Archie. The Freaky-D thing. This. There was something going on. There always was, but Lynn knew it. Amelia disappearing when the beast came out, and telling them this just crucially, implicating them all. Keaton coming up oh-so-conveniently. Natalie calling the feds. There was something here. Something. Maybe all of them.

Lynn sat down in the woods. She dimmed down her flames and listened for a moment, quiet. She heard nothing.

Lynn took off her hoodie and folded it gently. "Cara," Lynn called out.

There was only silence. Cordelia Lynn Holmes did not own a cell phone.

She waited. "Cara," she said again.

Nothing.

Lynn looked around the woods. "Come the fuck out if you're here," Lynn said into the dark. If there was some fucker out here carving people up, maybe this was what the principal did to get his rocks off or something, Lynn didn't intend to be a sitting duck in a holding cell.

Nothing.

Lynn waited ten more minutes. Then she rose to her feet and put her hoodie back on slowly. She'd calmed down, her mind clear. As clear as it could be. They'd seen too much, Lynn knew. Someone was going to talk. Someone was going to say something. They always did. And if they got to talking, that meant they'd pin this on Lynn. She was the easy fuckin' mark. Fresh out the psych ward and we place her at the scene of the crime. Lynn had a sneaking suspicion there weren't going to be much in the way of lawyers or due process on this ship. Then they'd put the collar in. Then they'd come cleaning house. Che would be fuckin' proud, wouldn't he.

Lynn closed her eyes and focused. She ran her mind at it every angle she could think of, but it didn't matter. She wished Denim was here to Rain Man some other way.

But best Lynn could see it, she was dead in a week. Maybe two. They'd pin her for this. They always did. She'd been guilty of everything from the oven overheating halfway across the house when she was six to the juvy officer burning his toast at home one morning. Then they put a necklace on her. Then she's crippled. Then they get her. Lynn hadn't really expected to make it eight years of probation without getting airlocked. Maybe part of her had. The dumb part. The flowers part. Flowers got you a bullet here. She should've told Archie to fuck off the minute he asked her what her name was. The truth was it wouldn't have mattered. If not today, then it would've been tomorrow.

There were still a lot of kids on here. Lynn closed her eyes. She couldn't fight these fuckers. If she tried to burn down the police station or something they'd just activate the killswitch remotely. Lynn started walking back to the dorms, mind racing. Probably not much time, not much time at all. Lynn walked quickly, tripping and stumbling as she went. Her mind wasn't focused.

Finally, Lynn settled upon a building she had not ever set foot in before. A library. Lynn sat down at one of the computers and was able to get onto the internet. (rebelgirl2016 and tysonVfrazier, respectively, get one into Lynn's gmail, for the curious). Lynn stopped for a moment, trying to figure out who to talk to.

The girls. No. That was...no. She frowned. This was a long shot if ever there was one. It relied on Hardwin being not only smart enough, but giving enough of a shit, to help her. She then typed in the email address of her case manager. Dear Ms. Hardwin, Hey. I am good. Just got out of the hospital but not hurt. I am emailing to let you know things are really good here. I actually think some of my teachers are like Gary. I think I saw Clarita here in one of my classes. Anyway please tell Daniel I'm good as soon as you can because I know he was wondering. I will for sure talk to you again by Saturday. Lynn. she hit send and anxiously watched the loading screen. It appeared to have gone through. Lynn figured maybe they could catch it anyway, but...but fuck it. She had to try something. She ran back through the email, thinking. Hardwin had to have known that was code. There was no way Lynn started off a letter saying dear, and she and her case manager had mutual disdain to begin with. Lynn could not remember addressing her by "Ms." at any point in her life, aside from possibly as "Miss Lucifer". Gary was - well, Gary was in fucking prison, so that ought to ring a bell. She certainly didn't see Clarita up here. And the only person who worked for the government whom Lynn had ever felt a shred of respect for was her public defender.

She turned back to look at the rest of the library. The few students who were in there studying were failing to hide their glances at the tattooed girl who walked in, flickering occasionally, and typed an email with the emotional intensity of a man on death row.

Lynn just laughed, drawing their focus more. Christ, I'm really fucked this time. She wished that butcher knife had hit her a few feet higher. It would've saved her some trouble.

Lynn went back to her dorm and got into her bunk. She slept surprisingly well. Corpses often did.

Lynn came to the room calmly. She had slept the best she had all week, unperturbed by hospital monitors or nurses coming along and taking her temperature a little more brusquely than was strictly warranted by medical science. When they came to her door, she let them knock. She had a suspicion there was no warrant, and she had preparations to make, anyway. Lynn put on as many articles of clothing as she could onto herself, for once not needing to cinch her belt to the final slot. Lynn had dealt with her fair share of power-nullifiers in her time, and did not intend for the world to see her shivering and blue like a little bitch in the middle of the precinct compound.

That, and it was funny to make the cops wait.

Lynn said absolutely nothing as she walked along to the station, aside from idly noting the physical characteristics of her captors/escorts. One was tall. Another had a noteworthy mole. Lynn refrained from asking about its effect upon his sexual life. She could play nice when there was a gun to her head. Or, at the very least, she could hold her tongue until she could really piss someone off.

When she came in, only Archie was already there, eating a donut. Damnit Boat Farmer, she thought. Once you eat the donuts you’re putty in their hands. She gave him a nod that, she hoped, revealed nothing, and kept going to her seat, sitting down calmly. Lynn was used to waiting. Lynn was used to waiting on a police line-up. She was used to the uncomfy chairs and the harsh fluorescent lights. She had been given donuts before, and coffee, and she’d been given a baton to the back. It depended on the mood. Where you got into trouble was you started eating the donuts, and your fat ass forgot they had one hand on the baton the whole time. Lynn leaned her head back and stared ahead aimlessly, saying nothing, staying quiet. She ran over her evidence in her head, but she was not doing it with the ferocity of the night before. Lynn had put it together. They found out too much. Maybe one of the dumb ones got to walk away from this, but Lynn was toast. She was more toast than she had ever been. They will all sell you up the river, Lynn thought. And yet she wasn't upset. She felt weirdly, truly happy. She almost wanted to joke with Archie, or think of something to piss Spoons off before she had to walk inside. I should be livid, Lynn thought, and she was, when she thought about what was going to happen next. They're going to keep doing this. Maybe her email reached somebody. Maybe, maybe.

A death sentence was kinda liberating, Lynn mused, which was difficult for her to wrap her mind around. She had never expected to live very long, but she had never expected to die so soon either. In scary situations, you just didn't think about it, and she'd never much imagined life beyond 22 or 23, but this was different. One day, or the next, or the next, they were going to kill her. She was a burnout with no one to miss her, and she'd seen some Skull and Crossbones shit. It just made sense.

She leaned back and waited, and thought about the kids.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn's anger at Amelia simmered off into something closer to disgust. Unsurprisingly, Amelia just wanted to play at being criminal. The guy kicked a kid in the face with a steel-toed boot and you went chasing for his autograph, Lynn wanted to scream at her. That was decidedly un-Lucy of her, but it was there. Lynn wanted to ask if she'd ever been kicked with a steel-toed boot, or if she'd care to experience, but -

But that would not help. Lynn closed her eyes and grinded her teeth with the sort of intensity that normally reduced enamel to dust. She had to focus. She would have time to customize an ass-beating for each one of them later but right now they needed to focus, get their story straight, and get clear. Lynn did not have high hopes that any of them would manage to keep quiet and avoid narc'ing for much longer than a few days, but that was a few days to come up with alibis and whatnot. Maybe somebody else would get pinned for it in the meantime and they'd be in the clear.

Lynn wanted to laugh at that.

Lynn also, as a sign of how serious the situation was, neglected to comment on Amelia diving back into the closet, although the temptation did occur to her. Lynn searched her instincts about Amelia. She knew there was something fishy about some of these fuckers, but she couldn't pin down what. Amelia's story seemed to check out. If she was involved in all this, why would she make running away so obvious? Beyond that, Lynn didn't think Amelia had the stomach for it. She was taking the love scratches on the cadaver a little seriously. Everyone was, but she had to admit that Amelia's reaction - of sprinting away before remembering she could teleport, seemingly (Lynn, unsurprisingly, not having the tightest grasp on the quantum mechanics behind Amelia's abilities) - didn't really track with someone who was in on this conspiracy. Her gut instinct on meeting Amelia had been that this girl had not ever seen any real shit. Lynn's standards for real shit were, also unsurprisingly, pretty specific to whatever Lynn herself had personally endured, but this was tracking. She's a weak link, Lynn thought, And I think fifteen minutes in a police room would get a confession out of her, but I don't think she's in on this. There was always the chance Lynn was wrong. Lynn was very willing to assume there were errors in her logic so long as it allowed her to continue her suspicions of someone. So she wasn't clearing Amelia, per se, but she loosened up her grip on Amelia and stood up. "What'd this Jigsaw bitch look like?" Lynn asked, her tone still sharp and clear. Keep channeling Lucy, Lucy always knew what to do. Lynn, by virtue of a number of tough scrapes, had a knack for keeping cool in crisis situations. People who froze up in a street fight or panicked and ran when there were gunshots did not tend to have the opportunity to improve their skills in future encounters.

Of course, the debilitating drawback was that Lynn could never really turn it off. When she slept. When she walked around. When a car honked suddenly or someone shouted out of nowhere.

Lynn stood, her mind whirring. Smoke drifted out of her ears absentmindedly, so faint as to be barely perceptible to someone without augmented vision. Torturing this guy? That made sense, Lynn supposed. No law enforcement up here, and no real way of getting contact down to earth. Between the Big Brother AI and whatever system they had to get internet and stuff here, Lynn figured they had a pretty ironclad system of censorship on communications. Lynn had figured this was the next base thing to a FEMA camp when they'd strapped her into the shuttle, but Lynn had not been blessed with a myriad of options for her life at that point. Add in a bunch of kids and no lawyers and no protection and -

Lynn was shaking. She was going to tear that AP Bio bitch's throat out. They could make kids go missing even easier than this poor fucker. Little girls. Foster kids. Juvy kids. Kids with no moms or dads or case workers or -

Keaton spoke and Lynn blinked. She was back in the woods with the others. "I - the fuck?" Lynn said, staring at Keaton. Denim had those Dustin Hoffman powers from that movie. She stared at her, bewildered. Lynn had no idea you could even have powers like that. Everybody she'd known back on Earth had had, like, directly applicable shit. There was a guy who could move things with his mind, just barely, who got his ass beat by casino staff for fudging die rolls. Another guy could make enough electricity to tase you, but it left him in a coma for the rest of the day. But this mind stuff? Lynn wondered what Denim could tell about her from just looking at her. Did she know anything about Lynn? Lynn felt naked in front of her, like they'd tied that hospital gown back around her, flimsy in the cool breeze. Regardless, it explained how she'd found them out here, Lynn guessed, and that might be useful figuring out what was going on here - although Lynn wanted to know more about what she could do with that. There was a non-zero chance Keaton didn't have these powers, and was just saying this to go along with the narrative. That would track. Maybe she and Amelia are both in on this. I hadn't considered that. They both bounced as soon as Archie started to get scaly. Maybe they knew.

Lynn glanced back at Amelia. It was possible. But not particularly likely, she was forced to admit.

"Okay, what we need to - " Lynn stopped as Natalie spoke. Her words almost didn't register. There was a ringing in her ears from somewhere. Lynn's hair was blazing, short-cropped and ragged though it was in the week since Archie's freakout. Lynn was ten feet closer to Natalie before she had processed what the girl had said. There was no way to make the words in her head coalesce into something that could come out of her mouth, she could only grab her and make her understand the magnitude of what the fuck she had done, Christ, she was stupid, so stupid, to have even gotten into this situation with Dipshit Flower Boy and the others, hadn't she learned?

Lynn stopped, standing in place. Heat roiled off of her, the few inches around her hot as an oven. Lynn's eyes glowed like charcoals someone had dowsed in lighter fluid as she looked up at Natalie, still about ten more feet away. There was some faraway part of her that was keeping her foot rooted in place by telling her that if Lynn stayed here to roast this bitch like a Thanksgiving turkey, they would for sure get her, and they would get her for the dead body too, and she'd be strapped to a chair with a needle in her arm by the end of the week. Archie would flip out. They could pin this all on her. That was what they wanted. They wanted this scapegoat. The psychic had said they dumped it here. There was still a chance. There was still a tiny chance to walk away but -

Fuck that. I'm not a little bitch. Who does this overgrown Linkin Park album think she is? None of them get it. Not a single fucking one. And she doesn't think twice before calling the feds right to us? Right fucking to us? Like they won't be able to track the rest of us down? They're gonna put a cleaver in all their heads and put my prints on the knife. I've been here one week and she thinks she can do this to me. Fuck me over to get ahead. I should've known. I should've blown out that kitchen with her in it, I should've - Lynn could feel a throbbing pain in her right kneecap, like it was splitting open, and the sound of sirens. Lynn was shaking, visibly, from the anger. She was so close. She was on the right path. She wasn't getting caught up in any stupid shit. She was trying to keep her head down. Then Spoons has to ruin everything. Spoons. Spoons was the pain in her kneecap and the way that silver collar around her neck felt and the bloody Promise uniform on that dead body. Spoons was having to spend in a week in the hospital when everybody else got to walk away after two days. Spoons was all of that. Spoons was fucking dead.

"Natalie," she said. "You - " Lynn forced her mouth shut. She could feel her heart beating itself against her thin chest, like it wanted to get out and strangle her too. Witnesses. Three of them. You can melt her eyes like candle wax and one of the other three will get you down. Amelia will get away and get the cops. Natalie can punch you into the stratosphere if you do this. Archie will grab you from behind. Her face was cherry red, a literal vein pulsing on her forehead. Think logically through your actions, she could hear the counselor saying, When these moments of emotional stress come. We hold onto our anger because it makes us feel powerful in situations we cannot control. If Lynn stayed, she was confident she could kill Natalie. She might die. She'd definitely be arrested. And they'd kill her for breaking her probation terms. They might torture her. They might lock her up somewhere in this place and filet her like that man on the river. And all that might happen and there was the chance she might not get to kill Natalie first. That meant it wouldn't be worth it. That meant she would get the needle for nothing. Lynn was not a bitch, and Natalie had made them all look like bitches, but Lynn was not trying to die today.

"Natalie," Lynn said, a hairsbreadth more control measured in her voice. Her eyes were wide and not particularly focused on the other girl. "I am getting out of here, because I am not a complete fucking narc, and I do not want to die." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "If they ask you who else was here when you found the human cutting board, you think about what the cafeteria looked like when you walked out of the fucking freezer before you answer. You think real fuckin' hard." She stared up at Natalie, every single ounce of her desire to break her in half pouring into her glare. I was so close. You people are fucking ruining this for me. You're going to get me killed. You're going to get me arrested and killed because it's all a fucking game to you rich pricks. This is the same thing as before. Sons of bitches like you always do this. Always. A part of her felt cold and small, curled up beside a singed, sixty-five pound bag of potatoes in a musty storeroom. I saved you people. Lynn didn't care how strong she was. She didn't care if Natalie ripped her in half. She would get her. She would get her for this. All of my life you people have been trying to fuck me over and not a single one of you has gotten me in the dirt yet.

Lynn bit her tongue as hard she could, salt and iron filling her mouth. It gave her something to focus on. "Those of you who don't want to wind up like the river rat, you leave. I don't care if you come with me or not, but you don't fucking mention I was here." Lynn felt like explaining to them the specific ramifications of that course of actions, but stopped herself. She opened her mouth, closed it, and turned and walked away from Natalie at a quick but controlled pace. Her anger was there, oh it was there and it wanted to burn this forest down and let the feds try to figure out whose teeth were whose, but Lynn was walking and her more composed response to crises was coming back. You never ran. Running was what got you caught. Lynn kept her arms folded across her hoodie so she could get them up quickly if Natalie tried to jump her from behind like the coward snitch she was. There would be no fingerprints from Cordelia Lynn Holmes at the scene. She kept her hair burning to keep any of her hair from drifting out.

Lynn's list of people who needed a thorough and immediate ass-beating had expanded. There was whoever this Biology lady was, and there was Spoons.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn was pissed. Amelia had implicated herself in all the shit that was going down - you brought all this to me, I was going to keep my fucking head down, but you brought this - and immediately tried to run off to narc to whoever her handler was. Spoons had found some large, tree-shaped spoons to bend, which was doing wonders for keeping whoever did this from noticing there were witnesses. Archie had grown a foot, which as previously mentioned, really only increased the already insurmountable height advantage most people had on Lynn, but it had the unfortunate effect of making her feet dangle a few inches off the ground. This undercut any pretense of authority Lynn previously possessed. Historically speaking, most had realized that it was unwise to point this out to her. Last but not least there was Denim, who was hyperventilating but covering her face up, standing still. Before Archie had started to grow bigger he'd mentioned picking flowers, which made Lynn's eyes narrow further and the temperature of her body jump up a few more degrees. That graffiti-spraying idiot was right, Lynn fumed (literally). She knew Archie wasn't as dumb as he looked. Cesar would be proud.

Lynn looked around at this clownfuckery. All of them were acting like it was the first time they'd seen a dead body. Jesus. Any one of them was going to bring the heat down on all of them, which notably meant also bringing the heat down on Lynn, who did not fancy getting assigned Spoons' old necklace. Spoons was making enough chaos to alert the cops back on Earth, Amelia couldn't have looked more guilty if she was running away in a white Bronco at ten miles per hour, and Archie was about to kill them all. To Denim's credit, she was at least standing still and quiet, although she looked too scared to move. You're all acting like a bunch of children, Lynn wanted to scream.

Lynn paused.

She took a deep, deep breath. Lucy. The oldest sister at the Johnsons. First house. What was the sort of thing Lucy would always do when shit like this was happening?

Lynn forced her glow to dimmer down, the air temperature immediately around her and Archie dropping back to normal and Lynn's hair settling to a faintly pulsing red. She kept her tone steady and sharp but tried to keep from shouting, which was difficult, because any one of them, namely Amelia's conspiratorial ass, was going to get her killed. Lucy always kept her voice calm and didn't try to yell over them. Her logic was it just made everybody yell more. Lynn hoped the same principle applied to de-escalating superpowered teenagers.

"All of you - " she started, biting her tongue. She was planning on saying Stop acting like you're in first class and see the South Tower on the horizon but decided that was most decidedly not what Lucy would have said to the other girls. "Look - you - " she bit her lip and forced herself not to absolutely lose her shit on these kids. They're kids. Treat them like kids. They're just Clarita and Megan. "Spoons, keep crying and sitting there. You're gonna be fine." Lynn realizing the callousness of this statement seemed unlikely. "Archie, I want you to sit down and sit on your hands. Sit on them. Right now." She had no idea what the fuck that would accomplish but it seemed like it would occupy his non-lizard brain for a minute, and buy her a half second of time if he snapped. She turned over to Denim. Keat? Keats? Ketty? Was Ketty a name? "Denim," Lynn said. "You are the star fucking pupil of the day. Stay there. Keep breathing. Try not to throw up on your second jacket." Lynn let go of Archie - notably not when he tried to pry her off, because Lynn did not do things because people wanted her to do them, and would not brook any insinuations she did - and moved over to Amelia, grabbing her by the other wrist. Lynn let enough heat to serve as a pleasant reminder come back into her hand. "If any of you would like a cigarette, I suggest you get one." she pulled out her pack with her free hand and threw it to the ground, apparently forgetting no one else could light them with a literal snap of their fingers.

Lynn did not like this one bit. If she had free rein, she would've been looking through Amelia's teeth for some kind of dental forensics that might point to some answers. Unfortunately, Lynn figured violence was just going to make any of the others lose their minds, and there was a one in three chance that doing so resulted in getting her ass beat by a giant lizard. This left the girl who could throw a tree at Lynn's head at the speed of sound and the mystery girl who shows up as soon as they find the corpse. These were not what Lynn considered ideal possible outcomes. At least, Lynn thought, You tried. She was not exactly succeeding at being the older sister figure. Well, Lucy got pregnant like four years later anyway. For a brief, bewildering moment, Lynn realized Lucy was younger when she got knocked up than she was at this present moment. That startled her, but she pushed it aside for the moment. She tried to force herself to see them all as about ten years younger, which made their behavior more excusable. Denim's older than me, Lynn thought. Why's she even nauseous? That wasn't that bad. Just make it go away. That was what Che had taught them, after all. You just made it go away and you could do anything.

However, there were too many coincidences here for Lynn to fully believe what her better judgment - which sounded increasingly and suspiciously like her court-ordered therapist - was saying, that their behavior was excusable. Amelia, at least, had information, and while they were far too close to the scene of the crime for Lynn's liking, she wasn't going to give the teleporter a chance to weasel away. Lynn figured at least they were all dying that way.

"I too," Lynn said, not breaking eye contact with Amelia, "Have questions." Lynn figured she had a chance of tanking a hit from the lizard or Spoons. Denim, who the hell knew. But if Amelia decided to blink the both of them into outer space, kick Lynn towards the nearest black hole, and blink back inside, she was going to make sure she was reading her copy of Snitches Weekly in Braille for the rest of her life. Lynn forced her tone to stay steady. This was such a mess. Either she didn't find out why this girl knew so much about the corpse, and they put her under the needle for breaking probation by being involved with a murder on her first week, or she got the straight truth a fist at a time and Archie and Spoons turned her into a well-cooked mound of bloody paste. Archie was still a good eight inches too tall for Lynn's liking. Spoons was probably one bloody nose away from snapping again, but she seemed to have collapsed, so she was probably fine for a while. Amelia certainly wasn't running with any gangs. "And would love to hear some answers. None of us are going anywhere until you tell us what's up, and also importantly, none of us are going to say shit about this dead body when we do leave here." Lynn glanced around briefly. "Which should be soon. Start talking."

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

There were a lot of things about Amelia that pissed Lynn off. Chief among them was that this bitch was insufferably sharp. Lynn did not like that one iota. Now, she was completely off the mark with her two-timing comment - as if Lynn would even have a sliver of feelings for Archie was ridiculous - but Lynn did not like how observant she was.

"Yeah," Lynn said neutrally. "Molotov." That worked or whatever. Lynn pulled out a cigarette from the pocket of her jeans and put it between her lips, the tip beginning to smoke without the use of a lighter. Lynn was by no means perfect (end sentence), least of all in the art of concealing her emotions. In Lynn's experience, however, the more someone knew you was the more they could use against you. Lynn did not like what that nickname made her remember, but she was going to be damned if the Hollister anarchist saw her squirm. Especially -

Lynn blinked and looked back at her, genuine surprise splashed across her feelings. "Tagging?" She cocked her head and looked at Amelia, trying to figure out the colors of her outfit. "Who...who did you run with?" That certainly hadn't tracked. This girl had no tattoos. Maybe she was...no, Lynn could truly think of no gang that would take Amelia as she was. Maybe she screwed her way in, Lynn thought, which was among the lower echelons of respect one could occupy in Lynn's mind. Although something in her admitted that seemed unlikely, tempting an idea to indulge in as it was. Before Lynn could interrogate her further about her criminal history, she'd commented on her and Archie. Lynn began to bristle at that, but Denim had approached, and for once Lynn saw no reason to add fuel to the fire. She's testing you, Lynn thought. She's trying to size you up. She must be rattled. If she didn't see what happened to Archie she saw the footage. Or saw the fucking hole in the cafeteria wall. No need for them to know how many gallons of oil were involved. Still, Lynn didn't like this shit one bit. She had Amelia trying to needle her apart and figure out what made her tick over here, Archie and Natalie skulking over in the shadows, and Denim showing up a little too unprompted.

Something clicked in Lynn's mind. Amelia went after that steel toed boot guy. She went running after him. He'd been the one to set Archie off, interrupt the headmaster, and cause this whole ruckus. Lynn did not for one minute believe he was operating independently of the Promise's authority. No, this was a chance for them to...to what? Their security forces had looked like a total joke, they'd been out of place. It'd been up to her and Natalie -

Lynn stared away, zoning out of the conversation for a moment. Her cigarette was half consumed.

It was a fucking hit. On me and Spoons. And if we took out Archie in the process, all the better.

So simple. They'd spared her the needle to make her an example for all the goody-two-shoes who grew up at private schools with mommy and daddy. Lynn's hair began to turn white, her blue eyes flecked with white dots as well. Well, it only took me a week to figure out your scheme, Lynn thought. And I turned it pretty well on its ass.

Then Denim had to go and mention the flowers. Was she trying to test her too? Lynn was sick of this shit. "Didn't have them when he came to me," Lynn said quickly. "I - " then this girl mentioned Freaky D coming by her. Yeah, that was the tap dancer's name. Lynn really did not know what to think now. Had Lynn ever sat down to play Clue, she would've felt very much like the player with the fewest clues a turn before the game ends. I do not like this one bit. Why does he come by her? How does Amelia know this prick? And what in the name of fuck are those two still talking about? Lynn did not possess anything bordering emotional intelligence. She didn't know exactly what she felt about Natalie and Archie plotting. Not betrayal, because Lynn wasn't dumb enough to get betrayed, but - well, she had expected a basic level of camaraderie between them, given recent events, and this was a quick turnaround. That wasn't getting betrayed, which only happened to idiots, that was just expecting someone to not be a complete douchebag. Lynn had sobered quickly to the quality of people on the Promise. You try to give people a chance to be decent and this is what they do. Jesus.

Lynn turned back to Keaton. Fuck this skull and dagger crap. "We're not all really friends," Lynn said. "Don't really know each other." This one was older, and Lynn didn't think she was here under the needle either. Gears whirled in her head. The fact was that everyone here was a threat in the way everyday people hadn't been back home, but trying to figure out how they were a threat was the challenge. Could they throw her through the airlock door like Spoons, or could they screw with her mind and make her terrified of stuff that wasn't there? Lynn briefly considered the idea there were telepaths on this space station. I don't care about probation, I'm whipping their ass if I find them.

"Yeah, I - " Lynn froze as Archie screamed. The cigarette between her teeth charred to ash in a moment and her short hair sparked like aluminum foil in a microwave before glowing yellow, her eyes matching. A faint smell of smoke curled up off her, but not enough to singe her clothes. "Oh if I have to kill that motherfucking lizard again," Lynn said, moving towards the woods. Her hands were curled up into fists. Your back is to those two. Not that it matters with the teleporter. You don't know what the other one can do, but there's no getting around that. Maybe she can only talk to squirrels or something. Spoons is to the right - she's not going to throw the first punch, she's scared. You need to hit whatever it is fast before Archie roids out again, and before anyone -

Lynn came over to Archie and saw the corpse. Lynn immediately looked around for what caused it, but she knew it was in vain. This body wasn't fresh. There was nothing in the trees and nothing in the water she could see. Curiosity pulled her a half step closer. White. Brown hair. Blue eyes. No tattoos. A staff uniform. His face was all kinds of fucked up. This body was ditched here. Lynn noted. The body didn't bother the sixteen year old. She'd seen them before. Like this? Carved up and tortured in the face? Some part of her felt nauseous, but it was the faraway part, the part that didn't know what to think about flowers or couldn't sleep at night sometimes. That part that was easy to tell to shut the fuck up when her hair was glowing and her knuckles close to splitting. Somebody wanted this guy to suffer.

Lynn was no one's fool. Archie finds this body as Denim approaches? As Amelia follows the tap dancer?

"Archie," Lynn said, grabbing his arm and pulling him backward. Her fingers were warm, on the verge of being hot, but not painfully so. Not yet. "Get the fuck out of here. Did you touch him? Did you leave prints? Hair?" She took her free hand and pulled her own hood up. Inside her hood jumped some dozen degrees as she did this, and Lynn forced her temperature back down to keep from charring the inside of her sweatshirt. They are not pinning this shit on me. Lynn glanced around again. They're always watching, she realized. All it takes is that AI fabricating some voice recordings and I'm out the airlock. Damn them. Damn them.

A part of Lynn pieced something together. She didn't think any of these, excluding potentially Spoons - but she really didn't think so - had seen some real, real shit. Or done real shit. Cesar, Lynn thought briefly, intrusively, before forcing that out, with the part of her that was trying to think of how painful it was to have your face carved like that. What she was thinking was that they weren't realizing what she was. This wasn't a dealer who went to the wrong street corner or a drunk moron who slapped the wrong girl's ass. This guy had made somebody real, real mad, and she was willing to bet that uniform was put on them as a sign.

The people who did that kind of thing were fine killing kids. Only kids who saw too much. If her Freaky D as a false flag theory was right, this was the Ruby to the Oswald. "Get the fuck up. Get up and walk away. C'mon." Lynn's tone was hard and serious. Lynn kept her hand on Archie's arm, trying to feel if it was getting bigger, but that was hard to tell, given that her small hands couldn't fit around his arm to begin with. Lynn turned back to the others. One of them had to be involved. Who? Spoons was waiting here at the river, as was Amelia. But Denim had known exactly where to find them.

She looked back down at Archie.

And all that assumes, she realized, He really can't control his little lizard problem.

Lynn kept her hand on his arm like a vise. One should keep friends close and enemies closer. Cordelia Lynn Holmes had only the latter.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Spoons and the Breakfast Club were talking about high school books. I have to spend eight years in this place. Good Lord. At least Archie will probably manage to tear my head off by year three, max. Amelia looked up at her and said -

Just throw it.
I don't know.
Do it. You have to do it. Don't you care about me?
Y-yes, but - but this is -
C'mon. Be tough. Be tough or -

"Human molotov cocktail," Lynn said back somewhat neutrally. Her coffee cup steamed up a bit. "That one's new," she muttered. Molotov cocktails were something she could do. She could do those really well. Lynn shook herself. Fuckin' daydreaming. They'll spot you're not focused from a mile away, and start talking about what you were in that hospital for. Man up and get a handle on yourself. Spoons is watching. So is Archie, even if he's too dumb to admit it to himself. The lizard part of him certainly was. That's everyone on this tin can, Lynn told herself. All of them are that hungry somewhere deep down. They just don't all flip it on and off as easy as Archie does. But they'll eat the meat off your bones the minute they run out of food.

Lynn smiled. Anyone who tried to eat her was going to burn the hell out of their tongue and be left hungry at the end. Natalie and Archie took off away from earshot, which made Lynn start for a moment. What were they talking about? Lynn figured just an apology, but he didn't have flowers for her, which she couldn't suss out. They glanced back in their direction and Lynn couldnt figure out if it was at her or just the nervous askance eyes of people who aren't committed to what they're doing. They're talking about you, Lynn thought. He reached out and grabbed Natalie's hands. Her eyes narrowed. She'd known it. This one was playing games. He might play dumb, but this was textbook fucking around. Did he think a handful of roses and an extended hand would get her guard down? Maybe Natalie would be dumb enough to fall for something like that, but not Lynn. She turned back to Amelia, her suspicions validated. That was equally problematic. If Amelia brought up more books or something she was going to throw herself in that river. Lynn could not recall an assigned school book she had ever read. The list of non-assigned books was not much longer, either.

Fortunately, a third party approached Lynn and Amelia. Lynn eyed her. One of Lynn's traits which some would call useful, and others would call highly concerning, was a kind of hypervigilance. Lynn had learned fairly early on in her rather dangerous life choices that not keeping an eye out, or having a knack for faces, was a good way to wind up in trouble with one side of the law or the other. Girl from the hospital, Lynn's gut confirmed. Did she track us? This didn't bother Lynn a terrible amount. A drawback of Lynn's abilities was that she was never terribly difficult to track down - she did not have a gift for subtlety, and anyone with a nose for smoke could track her relatively easily depending on the wind. This to say nothing of thermal vision. So which one is it? Lynn wondered, looking her over. Not much makeup. Not much taller than Lynn, but she filled it out a lot better. Whatever. Lots of denim. Well that was certainly familiar, but -

Keaton confirmed it. Lynn chastised herself for not remembering, although she supposed it had been a particularly busy day. Or even week. Lynn was interested in why Keaton had tracked her out here. And asking about the hospital as well - everyone wants a fucking piece of me. "Hospital survived me," Lynn said, eyeing Keaton for a moment. "I'm Lynn." Lynn looked over her jacket. She'd asked for it, hadn't she - but this one was different, wasn't it? "I'm guessing your other jacket got fucked up something bad, huh?" Lynn took a sip of the coffee, pulling up the sleeves of her hoodie as she brought the cup back down. Lynn didn't bother trying to make introductions for Amelia. She figured Amelia would start talking when she was ready, and besides, Lynn wasn't anybody's mom. She cast a sideways glance at Spoons and Boat Farmer off to the side. Alright, then. Lynn turned back to Keaton, racking her brains. She had been focused on more immediate, scaly issues when she and Keaton had crossed paths previously. "What brings you out here?" Lynn asked. She figured that was pretty straight up. Lynn was tired of this double-talk, skulking around, subtext-ridden bullcrap.

And she'd been walking around outside for twenty minutes.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn had glanced a familiar-looking girl at the front desk of the hospital, asking about an Amy. Lynn couldn't put a finger on where she knew her from, which irritated her, but she observed her for a minute. Definitely not from before. The event? Lynn only remembered really Natalie, the punk one, and Archie from When Shit Went Down. Hmm. Lynn would figure it out at some point. She looked a bit older than Lynn - maybe 20? - and had some rough-looking fingernails. But not coke nails, Lynn noted. Hm. She'd deal with that later.

Archie came out of the bathroom quiet and a bit off, but Lynn figured he'd just taken a particularly traumatic dump or something. She made a brief stop to get a cup of coffee. Lynn's power had many side effects that were not immediately obvious at first glance, some positive, some negative. She'd been a constant pain in the ass for most of her foster families as a result of the absurd air conditioning bills they'd had in the summer (although her presence was more welcome in the winter). More to the point, the pots that Lynn watched always boiled, and her coffee was no exception. It stayed at a perfectly toasty just-brewed temperature cupped in her hand, which Lynn was not complaining about. Lynn was by no means a coffee connoisseur - Lynn thought that being able to get coffee the same place you could get gas station hot dogs was like the sickest fucking business plan of all time - but she enjoyed it, and they hadn't let her have any in the hospital. She'd also grabbed a pastry she couldn't pronounce, relieved to be free from the bland fare of the hospital. She munched somewhat noisily, taking in all of the Promise. Archie seemed pretty nonplussed by it, which tracked given that he'd have more time to wander around. These lab coats kept Godzilla under lockdown less than they did me, Lynn realized, suddenly pretty pissed about that. She balled up her paper wrapping and let it casually start smoking in her hand, not seeing a trash can anywhere nearby. Lynn's hair changed color slowly and subtly, shifting from yellow to a red that was almost strawberry blonde - just more vivid - over the course of a few minutes. It was darker and pretty, which didn't bother Lynn. She was a mostly nocturnal creature. Vaguely, she figured she might need to get a job at some point to try and make a bit more money, but that was a concern for later.

Archie stayed mostly quiet, which Lynn appreciated. Some people just wouldn't stop talking. She wiped the powdered sugar off her face and drank another sip of coffee. He really was a big clumsy thing. Lynn could tell he'd not had a particularly rough upbringing. Lynn figured from his build - he looked plenty strong, even out of lizard form - and the scars and whatnot - that he'd been working, and if he was indeed a Boat Farmer, that tracked. But Lynn didn't think he'd gotten his ass beat regularly or grown up in the hood. He walked kinda hunched over and lost in his own thoughts, which was a good way to get kindly asked for your wallet and other belongings in certain neighborhoods. Then again, they had Big Brother always watching here. This wasn't a tremendous paradigm shift for Lynn - the cops had always been the bigger danger in her life, she had felt. For a minute, Lynn remembered the scratchy feeling of the juvy clothes, and there was a brief minute when her coffee practically smoked with heat before she calmed back down. Those fuckin' traitors. If I ever get back planetside I am going to roast each and every one of them. Lynn drank her coffee again, focusing on the pretty trees or whatever. She didn't want a rep as someone who couldn't keep her cool.

"Home?" Lynn frowned. That was a hell of an opener question. "I dunno, man, kinda all over." Archie had asked something similar back at lunch, she remembered. She couldn't recall exactly what the question was, but it was something like that. Was he fishing for information? Lynn hadn't taken a walk out to the river alone at night much as a threat, but the possibility was definitely there. Maybe he doesn't like competition at the top, Lynn thought. She wished she'd gotten another pastry. Lynn glanced around quickly, looking for anything useful in a fight as her heart rate picked up just a bit. Nothing but water. And her coffee. She had about a third left, and stopped sipping on it.

Wait, there was something. There was a bench nearby, with Spoons and the punk one. "It's a reunion," Lynn said. "Let's see who she's wearing today." Lynn walked over towards the bench, where Spoons was reading some absolute mind-numbing, Nyquil looking book. That didn't raelly surprise her. Lynn hadn't seen - Amy? - that was the name the other girl was asking for in the hospital. No, no, Amethyst. No, wait, that's a rock. Shit. Lynn had taken her jacket, which she appeared to have recovered. That was pretty fortunate. Lynn wasn't planning on buying anyone any replacements.

"What's up, Spoons?" Lynn asked, looking down at her book. Spoons looked mildly irritated from Punk Girl's presence, which made Lynn grin a little bit. A more astute listener might have picked up on something as well - Lynn's comments the week before had been snide, her tone sharp and acidic. There was respect to Lynn's voice now. She wasn't sure if Spoons had fought the lizardling out of utter panic or some kind of Vietnam vet breakdown rage, or if she'd actually rolled up her sleeves and stood her ground, but Lynn figured any of the three merited some respect. Lynn could dig her leave me alone vibe a little better now. "Hope there was something good to eat in that freezer." Lynn looked Natalie over. No burns, I can see. She glanced up at Amelia and gave her a nod. "'Sup." She didn't really know what to say. She figured Archie would come over and ask a really soul-searching question, or maybe he'd want to apologize to Spoons or something.

Lynn started to take another sip of her coffee and something hit her - how come Archie didn't have any flowers for Spoons? That didn't make any sense. That didn't make any sense at all. Lynn lowered her cup and swirled it in her hand idly. Lynn was one of those people who always had to be moving. What's his angle here? Lynn wasn't really looking to stand around and discuss literature for the next half hour, as Lynn could not remember the last time she read a book, but she didn't want to brush these two off. Well, the jury was still out on Amelia. Lynn wanted to find out what this girl's deal was, which necessitated hanging around her a little bit. None of these people were entirely in the clear in Lynn's book, although Spoons was doing some good work. You'd think for somebody who can bench press a mountain she'd have filled out a little better. Lynn chewed on her lip. I'm probably not one to talk, there.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Archie went and started fiddling with the flowers in the water, which was awfully convenient for Lynn. It also made her a bit irritated - that takes a certain amount of balls to turn his back on her given recent events. Lynn let the fingers in her formerly-fucked-up hand dance for a minute, eyes on Archie. Sure, he seemed nice enough. I mean, even Lynn couldn't deny that he had literally brought her flowers. But Lynn wasn't about to play the fool for the first smiling face that came along. Again. Lynn, at some level, was seeing Archie very much differently, but in ways she wasn't quite sure she could put into words or fully process yet. She was a bit more afraid of him, but also less afraid at the same time. Natalie and I put an ass whipping on him the first go round, Lynn mused. If I had more time to prepare I might've been able to do it alone. Might. She watched him for a moment, wondering how much it took to put him in that state. One kick. Granted, a steel-toed kick out of absolutely nowhere, but...

He'd been strong. Very strong. Lynn felt something almost like respect.

Amidst her attempt to suss out Archie's motives - because she could not shake the feeling this was all convenient, that Archie had been triggered into going beast mode on the first day by a stowaway who had no business being here, who no one could track down. Lynn could tell a disavowable asset when she saw one, although she'd no familiarity with that term in particular. Lynn knew all too well how that game worked. Lynn figured there was another angle to Archie that she couldn't quite piece together - and more importantly, trying to figure that out helped get her thoughts gathered back together, keeping her tongue in order. If Archie was on the level about growing up, Lynn had another mote of grudging respect for him. Even she'd had a phone - a shitty one, four or five years old, and admittedly not a legally acquired one, but still. She had a lot more to learn about Boat Farmer. Someone is pulling all these strings, Lynn thought to herself. And you'll have to be dumber than Spoons is sad to let yourself get tangled up in them. He's a bad day away from turning into that thing again. And you're one glance in the other direction away from getting your head cut off.

He was thanking her for trying to help him, which Lynn had quite frankly forgotten about in the rush of things. He said he wouldn't hurt her again, and Lynn realized his hand was still on hers. The back of Lynn's mind was full of very annoying thoughts, like wondering how plants could live in such a hot environment, or the last time -

Strings, strings, strings - and, of course, Lynn's favorite way to solve a knot.

"You're right," Lynn said, drawing her hand back and crossing her arms. "You won't." She began to stand up, pulling the IV out. Underweight. Fuck you, I'm underweight, I ate a two ton lizard for lunch last week. She cursed at the trickle of blood that oozed out of the crook of her arm for just a minute before grunting and cauterizing the wound shut. Lynn had to keep her powers as idle as possible to not melt the plastic too quickly, and even then they'd been changing out needles and IV bags constantly on her. None of the medication they tried to put in her seemed to work very well after the first day or two, which she had told them would be the case. Lynn slid on the tennis shoes that the facilities had provided for her, as some kind of courtesy. They were ugly as sin, Lynn thought, and entirely too new. Regardless, she began lacing them up. There's gotta be somewhere to buy shoes on this place. Lynn did have a moment of excitement at the idea of wandering around the Promise - she truly had no idea how there was a river on a space station, but wasn't about to look like an idiot saying that. She'd never been anywhere this big or fancy, and wasn't about to let that on with comments like that. The more these people knew, the more they could use against her. She wouldn't mind trying to sniff out the Metal Head, either. She wondered how isolated this river was. She'd heard you could talk to the ship at any time, which meant that the ship was listening at any time. Maybe the river was less eavesdropped upon. Did Archie have something he wanted to talk about? Or maybe a secluded location to get the drop on her. The flowers would be a good way to get her guard down, Lynn figured. She felt foolish for getting tongue-tied before. Just what he wanted, you idiot. Lynn didn't have any idea what game these people were playing, but that had never once stopped Lynn from trying to win (or, some may say, never once prompted her to try to learn the rules). Lynn's initial cornrows had been completely undone by the events of the last week, and she ran a hand through her hair periodically. It was perhaps three inches in length, and looking choppy and messy. For whatever flaws her wardrobe had and whatever scars were on her person, Lynn's hair was always pretty healthy - an element of her powers sorely wasted upon her.

"A walk literally anywhere but here sounds freaking amazing," Lynn said. "They kept me here mostly to ask questions," Lynn lied. "I reckon I saw the most. Chefs came by, and they were pretty pissed." She frowned, looking at the door. "And I'm not asking for Seabiscuit's permission. Besides, you're some kind of thick if you think any of these doctors are going to tell the two of us no." she chuckled. "They have insurance premiums." Lynn stood up. She was fairly confident she was going to be discharged later that day anyway- and as a matter of fact, they'd given her an hour or two to walk around yesterday, in a fundamentally misguided attempt to pacify her, but she thought it seemed better if she was a rulebreaker. Archie was still an unknown variable. Lynn looked at the wildflowers again. A very confusing unknown variable.

Lynn grabbed the notepad and pen off her table and wrote "RETURN TO MY DORM" and went to put it on her bag. She paused. Archie was over by the door, her body between the notepad and him. and the flowers she added in a smaller script at the bottom. Stupid. "Cool, let's bounce." Lynn led the way out, flicking the lights as she went. "I will literally burn this place to the ground if we stay here any longer."

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn woke up chilly, which she took for a sigh of relief. She blinked and began thrashing, scrambling - the lizard, Christ, she had to -

She was bound to the bed. "Oh motherfucker," Lynn muttered, although her voice sounded strange. She blinked again. There was something strapped to her face. An oxygen tube. Huh. Well, at least these halfwits had figured something out. Lynn shook her head as best she was able. Something scratched against the pillow behind her. Her hair was starting to grow back, at least. There was an IV in Lynn's arm - one in each arm - and Lynn had a suspicion they strapped her down partially to keep her from pulling them out with the other arm. Not incorrect. Lynn lay back and glanced around for any kind of panic button, her initial skyrocketing fear subsiding. She'd...she'd blown up the cafeteria. Yeah, that was it. Had she killed the lizard? Or Natalie?

Lynn's eyes settled on the corner, where someone had lain her hoodie. That calmed her down a bit. After about ten thousand years of staring at the ceiling, or fifteen chronological minutes, a nurse came by and unstrapped her. Lynn shifted uncomfortably in the paper gown. She was asking how Lynn felt.

"I got blown through a wall," Lynn said.

The nurse did not seem pleased with this response. Lynn chewed on her lip for a minute and worked up the nerve for her next question, like she had to push the words up from her gut into her throat and out her mouth with one long shove.

"You guys have confidentiality agreements, right? Like you can't narc to anybody?"

"Yes, it's called HIPPA, and we- "

"Did anyone see?"

"...yes, the explosion was quite massive, but - "

"No, I mean after, did anyone..."

The nurse paused for a minute. Damnit. Lynn leaned back into the pillow even before hearing her answer, some nothing about camera footage but covering her with a blanket as quickly as possible. The nurse went on to describe the symptoms of hypothermia, which Lynn was somehow suffering from despite being partially on fire when they found her. Lynn cursed, which made the nurse startle. Now they have it on file, she thought wearily. Day one and they know. They all know.

Lynn was ready to go after a day or two, her shoulder aching but by no means unusable. Her hair had grown back out to what would be considered an alternative length, and changed color once every hour or so. The doctors wanted to continue to monitor her for a variety of reasons, including any lasting effects of hypothermia, which involved a lot of needle pinpricks to her fingers and someone taking her temperature like every thirty minutes. She was hovering somewhere around 90 degrees the first day, but was back up to normal by the next.

"I am fine," Lynn said. "Just let me eat and get out of here." They'd at least unstrapped her, but she still wasn't allowed to leave without supervision. Fortunately, they gave her a TV. Lynn watched Maury. She was politely asked to keep her voice down, as her heckling was disturbing fellow patients.

"Well, why aren't they watching?" Lynn asked. "Just trying to enjoy the TV in here. Not much else to do. You want to scream at me for smiling?"

There was then a rather awkward exchange, in which a child psychologist and the nurse, whom Lynn had given a variety of nicknames in her mind, largely relating to her rather equestrian features and Lynn's theories about the lack of sex the nurse was having. The psychologist began to talk to Lynn about a disorder called anorexia, and body dysmorphia, and -

"Oh cut this shit out," Lynn said. "I'm not fucked in the head, I just burn through more calories because -"

"Mental illness isn't being 'fucked in the head'," the psychologist said with the patient tone of someone who has had this conversation a million times before, which just made Lynn more irritated. The last thing she needed was for everyone in the school seeing her naked and bald and throwing up ash on the first day, and then rumors going around that she was some special snowflake who neeeded people to hold her hand. The doctor told Lynn that one of the IV's was supplementing her with nutrients to ensure she got back up to a healthy weight.

"Dude, I'll eat food."

The doctors nodded politely and continued with their presentation, which at one point included sock puppets that learned not to make fun of their classmates for being too skinny or too fat.

"But that one puppet is a fatass. Like that's just a fact."

"Do you feel like that puppet, Lynn?"

"I feel like wearing your asshole like that puppet, Doc."

"Angry outbursts are common, Lynn," the doctor said, smiling unshakably.

This continued for several days, in which Lynn devoured every bite of food they put before her. The nurse quickly figured out that mentioning that Lynn couldn't do something was a pretty surefire way to accomplish it, although Lynn had no real reason to spite her on this. She was still starving days after the whole mess. If she'd only had another few meals in her before she'd had to throw down, she thought, she could've lasted a bit longer. She also offered to eat one of the nurses, having not learned that outbursts were not conducive to being released from the hospital more quickly. Fortunately, by a week's time, she'd gained several pounds and her hair was still a short shock, but it was flashing different colors every few minutes. She started melting their thermometers to piss them off. I will destroy your bottom line one thermometer at a time.

Lynn had a lot of time, during commercial breaks of Judge Judy, to wonder what went down. They hadn't shown her the footage, which she had been pleased by. Apparently, she'd fucked up the cafeteria and the kitchens pretty good, but Spoons had made it out alright, as had Archie. Lynn grinned at that. Yeah, that's right, you big ass lizard. Lynn Holmes, punching above her weight class. Lynn did wonder how Archie - non lizard Archie - had turned out. She was pretty impressed with Spoons, she had to admit. Spoons had punched that thing like Tyson. She wanted to talk to her at some point and see how she made it out. Truthfully, Lynn hadn't had any idea if that walk-in freezer thing would work, so it was pretty cool Spoons hadn't died.

"Well well," Lynn drawled. They had removed the oxygen tank after Lynn asked them to rewatch footage of the explosion, so she didn't have any crap on her face. Lynn had also gotten them to let her wear her hoodie instead of that scratchy paper gown. She felt weird having her cheeks on a hospital bed. "You lost weight, Boat Farmer." She paused. "Oh, fuck me, don't tell them I said that, they're convinced - " Lynn looked at his hands. Flowers. Lynn opened her mouth and closed it. What was this? Did...that's..."I..." Lynn's voice tapered off into some kind of stammer. "I, geez, Arch, you, nobody died, I..." she shut her mouth. Motherfucker. Trying to mess with my head. Thinks he can play mind games.

The truth was that Lynn really didn't hold Archie accountable, in an act of emotional maturity from her that would surprise most. Lynn had gotten chewed out so many times for after-effects of her powers that she couldn't hold it against him. A lot of her friends would bitch that their cigarettes only lasted half as long when she was around, amongst other things. Heh. I still remember that time J shot himself in the foot because I made that gun go off. Good times. On top of that, Lynn had enjoyed the tussle. A part of her liked that the station knew she could throw down with the best of them on day one. She hadn't been planning on starting any fights, but sometimes, one just has to get knocked around a bit. Lynn was cool with that. Archie manning up and apologizing was pretty cool of him, too. Lynn couldn't fault him for that.

And maybe, in a corner of Lynn's mind she wouldn't admit, there was a sliver of her that was afraid of that thing, and didn't want to be on the wrong side. But until then, she was happy to throw a tennis ball for the human golden retriever every now and then.

The flowers. "Um, thanks. That's...that's, uh, cool of you." She looked around. Chromatic changes in her hair and eyes were normal for Lynn, but her face was as red as her hair this time. "Look if you can bust me out of here that'd be really cool, I don't know why I'm still here." Everyone was going to think Archie had fucked her up, which she also did not want. Lynn thought maybe she needed to get a PR agent or something. She thought about asking Archie about what he'd heard about things - if that footage had gone around, but she thought better of it. Only security and stuff would've pulled you out of there, she thought. This was strange. She didn't know what to say. She felt like something was crawling around inside her. Why did he come by? Now she was sure this was some kind of power play. "Do you watch Maury?" she blurted out. "This - this asshole won't pay his child support. It's fuckin' great."

The other thing that Lynn could not engineer a conspiracy theory or questionable motive or ulterior goal for was that no one had ever brought Cordelia Lynn Holmes flowers of any kind. They're pretty. she thought for a moment, before she gave herself a mental slap to the face. Stop being a complete sissy. The dude threw a table at you.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

This is the stupidest thing I've ever done. I could've run. I could've left Spoons and gotten clear, I could've -

Archie came into the kitchen, angry and hulking. Whatever damage Natalie had put on him was still there to some extent, but he was already licking his wounds pretty well. For a brief moment, one that Lynn would have difficulty admitting to herself happened afterwards, she thought deliriously that she had seen Clarita running out of the cafteria, or that Cesar might take off the lizard head and everyone would come out laughing, but that moment passed.

The one advantage of this thing being twice Lynn's size and easily forty-five times her weight was that it took a while to build up momentum. Lynn always got smoked by the taller guys on a straightaway, but she could dart and duck around them all day. Lynn pressed herself back into the tile, the dull whoosh of the flames around her in her ear. She waited as Archie came into the kitchen, having to slow down for just a second to change direction. That was one thing, at least - he wasn't going for Natalie, or whatever scrappy little fuckers were dumb enough to hang around in the cafeteria still. Just a second to pick its speed back up. All she needed. All she needed. This was the first time Lynn had gotten a really good look at the thing. This close? Fifteen feet away? It was tremendous. It was massive. Lynn felt nothing short of utter horror. God it could eat me. It could rip my arms out. It could -

Lynn snapped herself back to reality. The lizard was ten feet away now because she'd screwed around, and Cordelia Lynn Holmes was not about to go out whimpering and shaking.

Lynn spared one second to glance down at her useless arm. "Ka-boom," she said, her voice hoarse.

Lynn inhaled sharply, and on the exhale, put all the strength she had into her fire. There was a strange sucking noise in the room as all the oxygen immediately whooshed in. The burning aura around Lynn burst up a good two or three feet, melting a hole in the ceiling above her as the oil in her hand ignited. The air pulsated off her, rippling out and turning the entire kitchen into a convection oven, rattling the cabinets and sending pots and pans clanging off the shelves and racks. As it did, the ovens began to burn as hot as their wiring allowed. The fryers shook violently against their metal frames, their frames glowing and bending and warping. The water, both from the ceiling and idling about as moisture in the air, turned to steam in a split second, and there was a brief acrid smell as Lynn's clothes were seared off her. Lynn's feet were no longer wearing shoes, but some puddle of melted rubber and cloth that, even amongst everything else, sent up a particularly awful reek.

Then came the fun part.

The oil Lynn had spilled all over the floor - oil that so happened to be underneath Archie at this present moment, as all ten feet and two and a half tons of him barrelled towards her - caught.

Everything was fire. The air, the ground, Lynn, the metal in the room, everything that was not literally water. The metal fryers, oven coils, and all the metal in Lynn's immediate vicinity went white-hot for an instant, immediately cooling back down to red as Lynn's supernatural haymaker passed. Lynn flared white herself for a moment, something blindingly bright and sharp as all her senses were numbed to heat and sound. For a second, she burned like a star. Just a second. There wasn't enough oxygen, or fuel, or enough Lynn. Somewhere, Lynn's plan of dropping knives in the fryer came to fruition, as red hot blades - or, rather, pieces of them - exploded out across the kitchen, knocking holes in cabinets, the ceiling, putting a dent in the fridge, and slicing into Lynn's side (she did not feel this - unsurprisingly, it was cauterized rather quickly). This was compounded by the shrapnel of everything else that exploded, which was quite a number of things. Lynn had not anticipated there being as much oil in the cabinets as there was. She hoped at least some of it hit Archie, with enough force and heat to slice through his side. All of this happened as more water rushed into the room, and whatever wasn't converted into steam splattered the grease further, egging the fire to spurt and explode further. Lynn's power meant everything flammable became more flammable, and everything not flammable had an asterisk next to it that said partially flammable. Everything that could boil boiled more easily and everything that could blow up just needed a mild suggestion instead of proper ignition.

All the oil met Lynn met the fryer grease met the open air and a forty five foot plume of flame blasted out the window of the kitchen, liquidating the nearest table and charring the ones after. Whether by an active part of Lynn's supernatural subconscious, or lucky positioning, or divine intervention, Lynn's hoodie was spared. The heat and fire that blasted upwards briefly liquefied the metal ceiling, along with the lightbulbs, wiring, and everything else above the oil fire. With Lynn's presence - and her powers - removed, they were rapidly cooling, but even the purely-non-parahuman thermal energy left in the room kept a few drops of everything that had been above them dripping down, hardening on the floor. It didn't need to be parahuman hot in there. It was still really fucking hot in there. Lynn had just gotten the ball rolling.

Lynn had a brief momnet of lucidity as she realized the ringing in her ears was her eardrums exploding from the noise. She could not see anything through the steam and smoke. To indulge in a cliche, Lynn was not entirely convinced that she was still on the mortal plane. It certainly looked a lot like hell.

She blinked around, struggling to move, but most of her body was not cooperating. Her head was spinning and her arm wasn't working. Was it not working before? Molten plastic dripped off her fingers. The jug. Lynn blinked. She was no longer in the kitchen. Lynn was almost certain she had been in the kitchen a moment before. She had, in fact, blasted herself through the kitchen wall into the storeroom, where a few industrial sized containers of food were idly blazing around her. There was too much smoke and steam and fire inside the kitchen to see if she'd even fucking scratched Archie or not. It would be just her luck that the lizard was fireproof.

Get up. Get up you fucking bitch. Lynn heaved and pushed herself up, and then it happened. Lynn threw up ash onto the ground, something clotty and dry and black. She gasped for air, Christ she couldn't breathe - but only smoke came out, her eyes watering as the bitter taste flooded her mouth. Lynn thought she said no, but her lungs wouldn't work. Lynn began to shiver, and she could feel the heat of her hair die back down. Her leg wasn't holding her weight, and wouldn't bend to help her stand up. She looked down at her arms, which were covered in charred something or another. The entire path from where she'd been, some thirty feet in front of her, to where she was, was covered in ash and soot. Well fuck me. Nothing ends easy. If she hadn't kicked up enough smoke and ash to blind that thing, it was not exactly going to have a difficult time following where she went. Unbeknownst to Lynn, her back had not taken the force of being thrown through a wall so easily, and there were a number of deep lacerations that made her phoenix tattoo a rather avant-garde piece at the present moment. Lynn managed to put all of her weight on her good arm, pulling herself an inch at a time behind a sack of corn. Lynn pushed herself as far against the wall as she would go.

I'm not going to die shivering. Stand up. Stand up! She felt small, she was naked and cold and she couldn't even stand up. She was pathetic. No wonder the lizard thrashed her. Stupid. Stupid! Lynn managed to turn herself around against the wall and looked down, trying to pull her legs under her and sgrab the bag of whatever was next to her to pull herself up.

There was half of a butcher's knife, still red-hot, sticking out of her right kneecap.

Lynn reached to grab it, thinking that it shouldn't be there, she should yank it out. She reached out. Why is there plastic on my fingers? she wondered. She tried to grab at the blade but her hand missed it. She missed it so badly she slumped over.

"Oh," Lynn murmured. She blinked. There was a warm breeze from the next room over. She was shaking. But that warm air coming in - that was nice. She was getting cold.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn, for a brief moment, had a wide, childlike smile as a table came hurtling towards her - This is the most WWE shit I have ever seen - before ducking down. Well, ducking down isn't completely accurate. Lynn let her momentum slip and and she fell, knocking everything off a table as she fell and hit the bench of the table next to her. Fortunately, Lynn was a small target - the table hurtled a good foot over her, the beast's tremendous strength arcing it just a bit too high. Lynn scrambled back up, the spilled soda on her tanktop hissing and curling off in steam as the fabric quickly became littered with burn spots. Lynn's clothes looked like someone had put out a thousand cigarettes on her as her hair and eyes burned brighter, a flickering golden corona forming around her. For perhaps a foot around her in every direction, there were the rippling waves of a heat mirage as Lynn pushed herself harder.

Lynn jumped onto the next table, approaching the doors of the kitchens. Natalie, she had to admit, was putting an industrial grade can of ass whooping upon that thing. Lynn figured she might be a trifle nicer to her in the future, but this was in no way a concession that Natalie could beat Lynn in a fight. As is so depressingly common in life, Lynn's kindness bit her in the ass - at the moment that Archie got staggered back, Lynn turned to make sure all the kids had gotten clear of ground zero.

She looked back and saw Natalie hurtling towards her.

For an instant, Lynn didn't care - if you cool down, the lizard will kill you - but Lynn couldn't go through with it. She braced to grab her and turned her heat down as much as she dared, taking Natalie square against her chest. The force threw her into the kitchen doors, which Lynn had very wrongly assumed were both opened. At the outbreak of the hostilities, one of the cooks had managed to lock one before seeing Archie hurl a table and flee in terror.

The door edge hit Lynn, cradling Natalie in her glowing arms, square in the left shoulderblade. Lynn screamed and fell to the ground. Her slow falling hadn't been able to completely mititgate just how much force Natalie had hit her with - much less when she was containing her powers to not burn the girl's skin off.

Lynn managed to pull herself up shakily, only the roots of her hair glowing like embers, and looked at her left arm. Her shoulder was torn out of socket, hangling limply and loosely. She tried to wiggle her fingers to no avail. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

Lynn, breathing hard and struggling to stay upright, looked up at Archie. Christ, Natalie had put a haymaker on him. Lynn had no time to make sure Natalie's spinal cord didn't look like a pretzel from the impact, and less to care about burning her. She grabbed her with her right hand and pulled her back into the kitchen, wheezing from the effort. "Natalie," she said, her voice ragged, a chainsmoker's gasp. "Please listen to me. If you do not get into that walk-in freezer right now, you are going to fucking die." Lynn staggered back over to the kitchens. They'd left everything on in panic, which is what Lynn was praying for. Lynn had spent a fair amount of time in kitchens - washing dishes was a good way to earn some cash under the table, and hanging out with Cesar, she'd -

Lynn gritted her teeth. She knew that she was very likely going to die now. You dumb bitch. You stupid, slow bitch. I can't move my arm. She was not going to die thinking of Cesar like some absolute coward. Lynn scanned the top shelves for the gallons of grease and began to let herself heat back up. She didn't have enough left in reserve to go as powerfully as she had before - especially with her body working to fix her shoulder. It wouldn't be usable in time. Lynn managed to clamber up onto an oventop, shoes' rubber burning and melting from the heat, and pull three gallons of peanut oil down off the top shelves. She frantically looked around, flaming hair falling down into her face. Knives. Lynn grabbed all the kitchen knives off the magnetic strip and began dropping in the grease cookers, then fumbled with the oven switches, turning them to the highest heat possible and throwing the doors down. She glanced out the window, where Archie was pissed.

"Please go in the freezer," Lynn said, to herself, or Natalie, or maybe God, she wasn't quite sure. Lynn cursed as she fumbled to open one of the gallons with just one hand. She grunted and began to pour it on herself. Lynn's hair immediately whooshed into an intense blue, and the fire alarms in the kitchen went mayday. Sprinklers began splashing water down, colliding with Lynn's superheated aura. Steam started to fill the kitchen, intertwined with smoke as her outfit curled and blackened. The ovens began to heat supernaturally fast, hot air bursting out into the kitchen air. All the grease cookers began to bubble violently, grease splattering viciously as water came into contact with them. Lynn, too, was splattering and sputtering, her fire too hot to put out - for now - and splashing grease onto everything around her.

Lynn backed herself into a corner, hoping that the lizard would come through the doors they had. She grabbed the gallon of grease with her good hand and splashed a bit at her feet. The other two were on the ground, oozing out grease onto the ground. Lynn gritted her teeth and forced her power down, down. This meant the pain from her shoulder was blinding, unmitigated by her phoenix form. "C'mon," Lynn said, shaking from the exertion. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Lynn blinked her eyes, aware but unperturbed by the smoke and steam that was filling the kitchens.

Please be in that freezer, and please don't go after the kids.

Lynn put the gallon of oil down and grabbed a metal pot, banging it against the oven next to her. It began to glow red hot around the rim, denting like paper on each impact. "C'MERE BOAT FARMER! I GOT A TREAT FOR YOU!" If reptiles were like sharks, Lynn figured, he was coming after the wounded prey. Around her, water evaporated into a steam a foot from touching her, sapping Lynn's strength a touch more with each drop. If she stopped holding herself, it wouldn't have been as difficult, but this was a situation requiring precision, which was not exactly Lynn's forte.

Lynn threw the pot down and got ready. There was about a fifteen second window where this could work. She had been in some pretty bad scrapes before - none so bad as this, she had to admit, but enough to keep her nerve. And the positive side was if she couldn't stay gutsy for long, it wouldn't matter. At least I won't die cold.