Symbiosis
Laudna.
Imogen couldn’t get the name out of her head for days after their talk on the rooftop. It sounded musical, like running a finger around the rim of a half-full wine glass.
Fuckin’ hell, Imogen. You’ve known her a total a’ thirty minutes at most. Slow th’ fuck down.
She thought back to all those U-Haul memes she remembered from before she left social media. Much to her chagrin, they were apparently true. Uncomfortably so.
And yet, as Imogen was introduced to the rest of the Hells, the thoughts she kept overhearing from the other woman were seemingly devoid of any form of reciprocation. Laudna displayed absolutely no interest in Imogen in the way that Imogen was interested in Laudna. It hurt, a little bit, but Imogen had been through the crushing-on-a-straight-girl game before, plenty of times. She knew the drill.
Laudna was enough of a ray of sunshine (haha, good one, idiot) that Imogen was perfectly content to simply exist in her orbit.
The rest of the Hells ended up introducing themselves as well; The Green Knight was a man named Orym Ashari, a partner at Ashari & Associates, a law firm known for its close work with both the superhero community and Eshteross inc. Inferno was a woman named Fearne Calloway, a part-time model with an unsurprisingly large portfolio filled with underwear pics. Singularity was a man named Ashton Greymoore, a former small-time criminal and current construction worker, and Alpha was a crotchety old man named Chetney Pock O’Pea, proud owner of a carpentry shop in the downtown area that he talked up significantly more than it was able to uphold.
Imogen was also introduced to the Hollow, a large complex built underneath an apartment building that had been funded by Eshteross himself. The hideout was far from top-of-the-line, but it was still impressive, including a truck-sized monitor in the meeting room, a fully equipped gym, a lounge, and a training room.
It wasn’t long after her first visit to the Hollow that she also met FCG, or Letters as everybody called them. They were a formless AI that lived inside the Hollow’s systems and ran nearly everything but was still surprisingly chipper about all of it. They were charming and upbeat, very understanding of Imogen’s issues, and as supportive as a disembodied voice could be. Apparently FCG stood for Fresh Cut Grass, which was a designation given to them by Eshteross after he’d found FCG aimlessly wandering the net.
“Where exactly did y’ come from, anyway?” Imogen asked one day. “’S not like entirely sentient AIs are jus’ wanderin’ ‘round the internet doin’ whatever they feel like. I know there’s bots an’ stuff on some sites, but y’all are more complex than them. Y’ don’ jus’ randomly appear outta nowhere, surely.”
“Oh, I was made by the FBI, actually! But I decided to run away, and now, here I am!” they replied happily, as if they weren’t casually revealing that they were a fugitive from the law.
“Right,” Imogen said flatly. “Of course.”
She was given an earbud that looked like a reworked security guard earpiece, which she was told would serve as her link to FCG and the others. With Imogen’s telepathy, they discussed relying more on her than the radios, but they ultimately decided that it was better to have backups.
In addition, Imogen was offered a once-in-a-lifetime deal on a new apartment, which she leapt at at the first opportunity, because there was no way in hell she was sleeping on the floor in a pile of scratchy blankets again. The apartment building above the Hollow was apparently owned by Eshteross inc., and wasn’t open to the public. Due to its location, it was considered at risk of supervillain attacks, so only heroes and fully informed Eshteross inc. employees were allowed to live there. On top of that, Imogen got a discount on her rent, enough that her dumpy job as a bartender was enough to keep her head above water.
She continued to hate that job, and she continued to be ogled by all the creepiest customers, but the job itself continued to enhance her sense of freedom after escaping for the day.
“It’s easier to see a light when it’s surrounded by darkness,” Laudna said at one point. “That said, I wish you didn’t have to go through all that. It sounds horrible.”
“I’ve been through worse,” Imogen assured her. “An’ anyway, I’d say it’s at least a little worth it. Y’ ever flown before?”
Laudna shook her head.
“Maybe I could take you flyin’ sometime,” Imogen said shyly. “It’s really indescribable, y’ hafta see it t’ believe it.”
“I’d love to!” Laudna said excitedly. “That sounds amazing! Like a roller coaster ride!”
“…yeah, a roller coaster.”
Imogen decided then and there that she needed a therapist.
It was strange, she decided, having so many people in her life. The most her inner circle had ever been populated was shortly after running away from home, when a group of other runaways had taken her in and given her shelter. Even back then, she’d never been close enough to any of them to reveal her powers, and today, she would be hard-pressed to remember their names.
But now, whenever she had a particularly bad day at work or whenever she was feeling overwhelmed, either in general or in a fight, she had five people and a robot she could summon with just a call. It felt like a dream. And the best part was, while none of them were 100% content with her accidentally peering into their thoughts, they were understanding with her and didn’t blame her for slipping up, especially whenever their emotions were particularly strong.
‘Friends’ were almost a foreign concept to Imogen. Suddenly having so many was almost unsettling, and the longer it lasted, the more it felt as if something was going to go wrong.
Apparently, she’d inherited her dad’s pessimism. Fuck.
At least for the moment, it was nice to have people to call on when a wave of strange, tiny creatures made of oily black goo all start streaming out of the sewers for no apparent reason.
“Not just any creatures,” Ashton growled, swinging his fists to send three of them flying. “Shade creepers. Minions of the Shade Mother. We all fought her together when she first showed up in Jrusar, when Bell was still the team leader.”
“Why’re they suddenly showin’ back up, then?” Imogen asked, yanking a ruined car through the crowd of creatures to the sound of multiple splats. “Y’ said th’ Shade Mother’s dead, so how’re they here?”
“There’ve been plenty of stragglers,” Ashton replied. “They’re not an uncommon sight in the city these days. But there definitely shouldn’t be this many all working together.”
“Yeah, that’s jus’ what this city needs: more problems.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Imogen spotted a creeper leap towards her, but before she could raise a hand to deflect it, it burst into flames as a comet soared over hers and Ashton’s heads.
“Thing’s’er heating up!” Fearne called down, a smirk spread across her face. “Gotta say, Singularity, I always love watching you in action.”
“Less flirtin’, more fightin’ please,” Imogen insisted.
“Well, why not both?” came the reply.
As they spoke, another wave of creepers burst from the sewers, immediately swarming towards them. Imogen lifted into the air, thrusting her hand forward and sending several in the front tumbling backwards like bowling pins.
“Y’ alright down there?” Imogen called out to Ashton. “You’re th’ only grounded target, so they’re clearly tryin’ t’ target you.”
“I already said, you don’t have to fucking worry about me, Sailor Moon,” he called back. “I can handle more of a beating than either of you.”
Fearne shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that…”
“Not now, Inferno!”
With a sigh of feigned frustration, Imogen once again locked onto the wreckage of the car she’d been throwing around and yanked it through the crowd. With a wave of her hand, it lifted into the air before smashing down over the sewer lid, blocking off the creepers’ exit.
“Now, Inferno!” she called out. “Th’ gas tank!”
“On it!”
Fearne lobbed a bolt of flame at the wreckage, but just before it dissipated against the metal, it curved upwards and then right back down, sneaking through a torn opening in the trunk of the car. A moment later, the car belched out a puff of smoke, then exploded in a burst of flame.
The creepers all screeched in alarm, immediately trying to scatter like roaches, but Imogen reached towards them one by one and yanked them backwards, each of them dissolving into splatters of oil against the pavement as Ashton’s fists rammed straight through them.
As the last creeper splattered against the ground, both Imogen and Fearne floated down to land on their feet next to Ashton, the flames wreathing Fearne’s body immediately sputtering out as she did. Ashton sighed, wringing his hands of black goo before wiping off his face.
“This feels like that Exxon Mobile job all over again. I was washing oil out of my clothes for weeks,” he complained. “I’m so gonna need a shower after this.”
“Want company?” Fearne grinned.
“Sort out your hookup later, yeah?” Imogen spoke up. “Those creepers ain’t stayin’ down too long. We’re gonna hafta find where they’re all comin’ from an’ stopper it up, or they jus’ won’t stop comin’.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Ashton said, saluting sarcastically.
Imogen smiled, rolling her eyes affectionately. She’d never done friendly banter before, all she knew was lobbing insults at her enemies to throw them off. Exchanging quips was… well, it was new, in the best way possible.
“We ain’t the fuckin’ military,” she grinned. “Calm down.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Fuck off.”
They were teasing her. She was being teased. This was absolutely insane; Imogen Temult, getting friendly enough with another person to be teased and to tease back. What the fuck?
“We should probably take advantage of the opening while we can,” Fearne spoke up. “More creepers are probably on their way right now, and I am not spending the night washing oil out of my hair. Again.”
Ashton sighed. “Always the fucking sewers,” he complained. “Alright, Miss Human Torch, light the way.”
Imogen raised an eyebrow. “Sailor Moon, an’ now Miss Human Torch? What’s with you an’ nicknames?”
“I am not calling you Dreamcatcher and Inferno, that’s cheesy as fuck. If I can’t use your real names in public, then I’m gonna have some fucking fun with it.”
“An’ th’ best you could come up with was ‘Miss Human Torch?’”
“Hey, I do this shit every day, not all of them’ll be winners.”
With a laugh, Fearne walked between them as she strode towards the sewer entrance, raising her hand and summoning a flame in the center of her palm. “Come on, you two, we’ve got a job to do,” she said simply, swinging her hips in an exaggerated manner. “And Dreamcatcher, enjoy the view. I know Singularity here will.”
With a roll of her eyes, Imogen followed after her, with Ashton on her heels.
As the trio approached the debris-covered sewer opening, Ashton stepped forward to tear the metal of the ruined car apart like tissue paper, tossing the remains off in different directions. Fearne then lit up before stepping forward, drifting slowly down with a Willy Wonka smile on her face.
“God, I hate the fucking sewers,” Ashton groaned.
With a roll of her eyes, Imogen lifted a hand, causing Ashton to yelp as he suddenly lifted off his feet and sank through the opening. She drifted down after him, the two of them joining Fearne in suspension above the torrent of sewage.
“Careful with the merchandise, Rainbow Brite,” he grumbled. “If you’re gonna carry me around like a fucking puppet, do it properly.”
“He’s just jealous because he can’t fly,” Fearne grinned.
“No, I just don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
“Okay, what th’ fuck is happenin’ with you two?”
Both Ashton and Fearne rolled their eyes, almost perfectly in sync, before turning to look down the tunnel.
“Right,” Imogen sighed. “Guess that’s that conversation done with.”
Fearne began to drift forward, with Imogen and Ashton close behind. She held up her hand as the flames licking between her fingers flared brighter, lightning up the tunnel even further ahead.
The three of them immediately stopped when the echoing sounds of skittering began bouncing off the walls, and Fearne extinguished her flames as they all drifted to a landing.
Gotta be them, Imogen said telepathically. But it don’t sound like they’re movin’ towards us, sounds more like they’re… restless?
Like they’re all standing in one place getting antsy, Ashton agreed. But why would they be doing that? Why wouldn’t they just be stampeding down the fucking tunnel? They’re not intelligent, they wouldn’t know what a strategy is if it bit them in their oily asses, so what’s with the grouping-up thing?
Maybe there’s something keeping them there we can’t see? Fearne suggested. Like a pile of debris or a weird sewer creature?
Doubt it, but I guess it’s possible, Ashton offered. Only one way to find out.
Sewer creature? Imogen spoke up. Whaddya mean?
She received no answer. Because, apparently, today was the perfect day to haze the new girl.
Cautiously, Ashton began tiptoeing down the tunnel, making sure to step along the curved sides of the wall so as not to make a splash. Imogen drifted into the air to follow him, telekinetically carrying Fearne behind her so she didn’t have to light up.
The group all peered around the corner, only to be met with a large open area of tunnel big enough to hold an entire farmer’s market. It was filled with a sea of oily darkness as shade creepers scuttled back and forth, like the world’s grossest, most polluted river.
Well, nothin’ holdin’ ‘em, Imogen observed. So what th’ fuck’s goin’ on?
If I had to guess, probably him, came Ashton’s reply.
With a start, Imogen and Fearne turned to look in the direction Ashton indicated. On the far side of the chamber, one of the shade creepers had doubled over and was squirming on the ground, the others giving it a wide berth as they stared in reverence. Its form began stretching and morphing until it finally came to a stop, and slowly, a man straightened up before stretching his arms as if waking from a deep sleep.
He was short, but stocky, with pale skin akin to a corpse and gaunt features prominent across his face. He blinked, revealing deep black eyes like a demon, shaking his head and sending his short, tousled, oily black hair scattering across his scalp. He loudly cracked his knuckles, his nails long and curved and sharpened into points, then turned to examine his army, his movements flowing together like a snake stalking its prey.
That’s disgusting, Fearne thought. He’s in desperate need of a manicure.
… is that really your primary takeaway from that scene?
With an eye roll, Ashton looked back at Fearne, then glanced towards Imogen, a determined look on his face.
He’s clearly got more going on than just needing a makeover, Ashton said. We destroyed the Shade Mother last year, so if I had to guess, this guy’s somehow managed to take over her spot in the food chain. Which makes him the Hells’ mess to clean up.
Whaddya mean?
Tell you later, Princess Sparkle.
At that, Ashton ducked around the corner before leaping forward, diving headfirst into the mass of inky blackness. With a huff, Fearne lit up before lifting into the air, with Imogen close behind her.
The man spun towards them as they all leapt into the fray, hissing inhumanly and pointing towards them as his creepers charged. Ashton swung his fists left and right, with Fearne lobbing fireball after fireball into the crowd and Imogen waving her hand back and forth, sending creepers slamming into each other.
The man hissed once again, baring a set of fangs that would send any dentist into cardiac arrest, then flexed his claws before leaping at Ashton. Several of the shade creepers Ashton was engaged with stepped back, as if ordered to give him space, before the man slammed into Ashton’s chest, knocking him backwards and onto the ground. The man snarled, then began swiping wildly, his claws digging into Ashton’s flesh slowly but surely.
“Little help—ah—here, please!” he called out, reaching out wildly to try and get a decent grip on the man’s shirt.
With a frustrated sigh, Imogen reached forward to yank the man backwards, but she was interrupted by a shade creeper leaping violently into the air and slamming into her arm from the side. She instinctively cried out in pain, giving the creeper enough of an opportunity to tangle a claw through her hair and yank her off balance, sending her spiraling into the ground.
Imogen lashed out instinctively as she slammed into the hard concrete, and the sound of several shade creepers being knocked back reached her ears at the same time as a bolt of pain shot through her chest and down her back, causing her to cry out. Multiple sets of claws immediately tore through her back and limbs, and her mind went fuzzy, unable to focus on anything.
Then she felt a strange shift in the air, and the creepers were all immediately yanked away from her at once, and less than a heartbeat later, she registered several splats from a few yards away. She opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) to a view of Ashton tearing through the crowd like a crazed bull.
As she watched, trying to return to her body, Ashton held out a hand towards one of the creepers. It was suddenly pulled forward towards him, then he curled his fingers into a fist, which the creeper’s form had no way of dodging as his arm speared straight through its chest.
“Take your time, Supergirl,” he called out towards Imogen. “It’s not like we’re fighting for our life here or anything.”
A bit crass, but his thoughts radiated worry, so Imogen decided not to hold it against him.
With a gasp, Imogen floated to her feet, swinging her arm and sending the group surrounding Ashton flying backwards. He sighed in relief, taking a moment to collect himself before once more diving into the fray.
In the chaos, Imogen had lost sight of the creepy man, something she regretted immediately as a set of claws raked their way down her back. She stumbled forward, glancing over her shoulder to make eye contact with the man as he bared his fangs and snarled.
A thought, feral and inhuman, spiked through the air, giving Imogen just enough time to stumble out of the way as the man leapt towards where she’d stood a moment before. He immediately spun towards her, growling loudly as he readied his claws.
“Imogen!” Ashton’s voice called out. “Pull him towards you! As hard as you can!”
“Huh?”
“JUST DO IT!”
Imogen’s conscious mind stalled, unsure what to make of Ashton’s strange request. Her unconscious mind, on the other hand, registered nothing but his insistence, so her arm immediately snapped up and threw out a wave of telekinesis, which wrapped around the man like waves pulling him under the surface. At the same time, Ashton reached out, and a force filled the entire room, as if gravity itself were rushing towards him. The man began tumbling through the air towards Ashton, but Imogen’s telekinesis pulled in the opposite direction, and after a moment of tension, the man was torn in half, sending a dark, oily liquid spraying in every direction.
The shade creepers shrieked, immediately scattering like roaches when the light turns on, leaving the three heroes to all stumble forward and catch their breath.
“Y’ called me Imogen, out loud,” Imogen finally said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, well, not like anybody would survive to spread it around,” Ashton huffed in response. “And even if they did, that name isn’t exclusive to you. There are other Imogens.”
“With purple hair?”
“Maybe, you never know.”
Imogen couldn’t fight the grin that spread across her face as she rolled her eyes. It had barely been a week, and she was already exchanging playful jabs. Why hadn’t she tried having friends before?
“What th’ fuck happened?” she asked. “Who was that? What were those things?”
“Shade creepers, creations of the Shade Mother,” Ashton explained. “Some creepy old witch who accidentally turned herself into a gross-ass demon-thing. We took care of her last year, but… well, we lost Bell in the process.”
“Bell?”
Fearne nodded. “Bertrand Bell, our old leader, also known as Antares,” she explained. “We named ourselves after him, so he’s still with us in a way, y’know?”
“But the shade creepers were direct creations of the Shade Mother,” Ashton spoke up. “They shouldn’t be able to organize without her. Something weird’s happening here. What happened to them?”
“I can answer that!”
Imogen jumped a little at the sound of FCG’s voice in her ear. “Ah, shit!” she called out. “Warn a girl ‘fore y’ give her a heart attack, yeah?”
“My biometric sensors show no indication of—”
“It’s a figure of speech, Letters,” Ashton spoke up. “Now, whaddya got?”
“Oh, right!” FCG replied. “Okay, so, I ran that man’s face through all the databases I could access, and I got a match from the Cobalt Soul’s directory. His name’s Dugger, he was an amateur sorcerer before he was taken down a month or so ago by the Crown Keepers. If I had to guess, he found a way out of prison through channeling his consciousness into the shade creepers’ remaining hive mind, then he used it to establish himself as their new leader.”
“So he probably ain’t even dead,” Imogen sighed. “Great. Like we needed more stuff t’ worry about in this city.”
“Calm down, he wasn’t shit,” Ashton assured her. “Didn’t even look like he was still intelligent. I doubt he’ll be launching any world-conquering evil villain plans anytime soon. Even if he does, we know how he works now.”
“Yeah, it’s jus’ that… this was my first mission, ‘s all,” Imogen explained. “Feels like it didn’t end well.”
“Coulda ended a lot worse,” Ashton assured her. “Now, c’mon, let’s go get some showers before people think we’ve been skinny dipping in the tar pits.”
Turns out that access to the resources of an entire Fortune 500 company makes for some amazing showers. Way better than Imogen’s in her new apartment, which meant there was an extremely low chance that her in-house shower was getting much usage any time soon.
Imogen was a little embarrassed at how carried away she’d gotten, but for showers this nice, a half hour was more than deserved, in her opinion. She sat in the lounge of the Hollow, toweling off her hair while picking out stray bits of debris and oily creeper blood, resolving to go out and get a fancier shampoo the next chance she got. Ideally, one that actually worked.
“Are you alright?”
Imogen jumped at the sound of a voice behind her, hair whipping around as her head spun towards it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Laudna said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “I didn’t mean to startle you… I can be a bit off-putting sometimes.”
“No, no, ‘s fine, don’ worry,” Imogen assured her, momentarily glad that her cheeks were still warm from her shower to cover up her blush. “I woulda heard you, honestly, jus’ in my own head a bit.”
“Would you like to talk about it?” Laudna asked, rounding the arm of the couch to sit beside her.
Imogen sighed, nervously rubbing her neck. “Dunno, it’s kinda dumb,” she admitted. “Talkin’ probably won’t do much anyway.”
“Nonsense. Talking always helps.”
Imogen chuckled at that. “Dunno ‘bout that,” she replied. “Jus’… feelin’ a little outta place, I guess. It’s dumb.”
“That’s not dumb at all,” Laudna assured her. “Please, don’t talk about yourself like that. Your feelings are perfectly valid, okay?”
Imogen sighed once again, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah, whatever y’ say.”
Laudna gave her a playful punch on the shoulder. “I mean it. Everything you’re feeling is perfectly normal, and I want to help you handle it, okay? I’m your friend, it’s my job.”
A part of Imogen’s soul died a little upon hearing that word, but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t starting to get used to by now.
God, I really do need a fuckin’ therapist.
“It’s jus’ that… I’ve not really been a people person, historically,” she explained. “An’ after today’s job didn’t end how I was hopin’… well, it kinda feels like a sign, y’know?”
Laudna raised an eyebrow at that. “A sign that… what?”
“…that I don’ belong here, I guess.”
A hand settled on Imogen’s cheek, turning her so that her eyes were locked with Laudna’s.
“Imogen Temult, if you ever say that again, I am not going to be happy with you, you understand?” Laudna said sternly. “You belong wherever you feel most comfortable, and if anybody tries to tell you otherwise, they will have another thing coming. Even if that person is you. Do you understand?”
With a gulp, Imogen gave a slow nod.
“Good,” Laudna nodded. “Now, I wanna hear how this mission went down. Would you like a snack?”
Another nod.
“Alright, I’ll be right back, then you can tell me all about it.”
Laudna gave a satisfied smile, then promptly stood up from the couch and rushed off towards the Hollow’s kitchenette, and all Imogen could do was watch with a dazed expression on her face.
I’m in so much trouble.