1. Charts are our everything
or A little bit about how Someone Chose Not My Own Adventure


I was peacefully scratching my nose let's say from the inside, and not scratching but picking, but who cares, really. There was no one but me in the apartment and I got this itch, so why not.

I was also staring my laptop down, trying to decipher Choose Your Own Adventure for Worm, and in my head I was like "How can you be that bored To hang out in the ending world", yep, russian Skittles 2007 commercial was that creepy you might consider it good for citation while thinking on Worm CYOA. All those memes about hangings on the rainbow...

As always, I made a decision to kill two bunnies with one stone, or whatever you say when you try to make two charts on one and only sheet of paper. Even if I'd never use that writer's crutch for my own fanfiction, I was somehow curious about writing down the initial plot of my future fanfic in the boundaries of that system. And the second chart on the list was all about me, if I did the real insertion of my own mind into that mad realm full of destruction. I always thought you should have some pity for your main character, but not too much, or the adventures won't be interesting to read.

Finally I put finishing touches on the last chart, something about time of insertion, and set the CYOA devoted sheet of paper aside, taking the other one sheet of paper, much more useful, the disposable napkin for snot, sweat and slobber, that is.

I sniffed pretty loud and reached for spray but it downed on me that I used it's magic couple of hours ago and it never went away. And it's a week I'm struggling with it, so it's something a bit more serious than flu, I suppose. And the body temp got that high I'm not even feeling it. That kinda rings some bells. There's high probability I need a doctor.

"Sinusit, I'm lovin' it", - I started singing McDonaldz commercial tune because if I start remembering old commercials it gets out of my subconscious as well.

The next thing I did was trying to show the "para-pa-pa-pa" part with my body because the voice stopped working. That was such a perfect timing.

My ridiculously uplifting but very much stupid moves were interrupted by Timmy Trumpet and his Freaks calling for me, and that meant one of my friends assaulting me with their bullshit, high probability of pettiness of that bullshit, as always. That wasn't Mom, she got Star Wars Imperial March as her personal ringtone, so I cursed the noisy thing and ignored the assault.

My next move was walking barefoot to the bathroom for my mysterious medical cache. I really hate taking meds for no reason, consider it a slippery slope from self-heal to eventual self-harm. Though, I knew what to do with sinusitis, recall it vividly, and had those sinupret pills in my medkit.

That's why it's mysterious, you never know what you'll find there.

It might save me time with therapist and other doctors she might assign me to visit. The fastest way is a private clinic but my last appointment there, well, escalated quickly. The orthopedic surgeon told me I should undergo operation that I don't really need and that cost about ten thousand Euros, but the outcome had those riscs I might just as well lie down and have my fun in the coffin, not really but I didn't care at the time. That day I simply made a circular motion with index finger near my head and told the guy I'd better listen to the free foot doctor in the common clinic. The free one simply told me to take care of traumatized limb from the outside and make appointments each month to see the progress and reschedule the operation if it would seem necessary. I did my homework and got healthy leg as an outcome, and that surgeon dude can throw away his wet dreams of making operations when they aren't needed. There should be some boundaries in this kind of shit!

I took my meds and my cell to kitchen, gulped down the pills and finally answered the call.

That was the last thing I remember.

I woke up under an Unfamiliar Ceiling.

Well, if you consider waking up when it wasn’t you who did the thing. The body I was in felt like a cage, and the only thing available was watching the ceiling. Apparently, that certain someone wanted to laze a bit.

After some meaningless search of some meaning of what’s happening, I wasn’t even feeling astonished. This is it. I’m either unhappily dreaming on the floor of my apartment, or I have a memory loss affecting the moments of this transferal.

The only thing that made the situation better was the freedom of my thoughts to go anywhere they liked, so I let them and it made me freak out.

I was in the body of Sophia Hess and last night Shadow Stalker got her first kill. Her thoughts were restless and even if they weren’t mine, I felt some kindred spirit here, because the guy was Empire Eighty Eight and as an anarcho-communist I had just one thing to say. Good job, go, Shadow Stalker, go.

Would be better if she wasn’t straw nihilist, really.

All these prey talks seem like Rodion Raskolnikov went the wrong road, and I’d really have to make the girl read something, like, at all. That’s if I’m not dreaming and really am here in her brain. She seemed too breachy for any good read, in her memories, that is. Pity.

Well, if the glass is empty it gets filled with bullshit, and her glass, I mean, mind is full of that petty crap. So, about that eighty eight guy, vigilantism was basically approved for capes, double standards and all, but it won’t be easy on her if they trace the murder to Shadow Stalker.

At that moment it was obviously sick but sickeningly pleasing, she seemed to think of it as if it was a great outcome for her hunt. She already non-lethally shot down two mates of that freak, and the freak was her chase of the week.

That guy attacked the girl of Sophia’s age on the streets while Stalker was watching on the closest roof and seeking for reaction. The girl was squirming and shrieking but his weight was too much for her to handle, and he was fiddling with her knees already, so Stalker shot the guy. She missed. Something made Stalker’s hand slip, so the man got away. I didn’t get what exactly, that was just a memory and I felt no emotions connected to it, my ability to go down her chain of memories didn’t go that far.

She used victim’s phone to call for ambulance and made a promise to finish the hunt. Got herself in trouble in the end, because the Empire goons she crippled along with the dead guy will undoubtedly be a problem. If there’s anything I’m sure of, that the nazi group would’ve never been that successful if it had no connections in local everything, the PRT included. So that’s just the matter of time she gets busted on one of her cape-nights. And now she’s thinking of laying low. And she’s feeling something awkward…

Not what she expected to feel?

Hess was experiencing lack of her overwhelming aggression, the one that requires self-control of terrific power she never had. That’s my fault, I guess. Something was nagging me like a dog that wants the pat on the head and puts its nose everywhere to get it. That’s her power, I guess. And she’s panicking now. Really? Reaching for her cell to do the thing we’d both regret, there’s no doubt to it.

“Stop!”

She froze and without any second thoughts she turned around with those kind of reflexes I never had in my life. Judo was good for staying in shape, as was ice skating I enjoyed to engage in when I moved to Moscow, but I never had the need to be good in any of those activities. She was an overachiever when it came to sports, it seems. Or maybe I was that lazy in everything that endangered my fat reserves.

Obviously, the girl saw no one in her room, that might become a surprise for me as well, that's why she got angrier, being on the verge of using her powers. That fucking power dog felt much more excited now. I had to say something.

“I’m in your head. And I seem to be a buffer zone between your conscious and your power, Sophia Hess. Good morning, I’m from the other world. “

“I’m definitely calling PRT,” - she stated and I had to talk her out of it because I don't think I could've stopped her physically.

“Stop! You do know of multiverse, don’t you?”

“That’s why I’m calling PRT!” - she almost croaked that and was shaking in fear mixed with anger.

I didn’t get why at first. Then I heard her thoughts about Simurgh, Heartbreaker and other masters that manifested their power over human beings.

Well then, here it goes. Some Serious Shit Time. I'm going to nuke her with that knowledge, I think, but she's a big girl, she'll handle it.

“You and your stupid friends are going to trigger Taylor Hebert. Oh, I feel some recognition. You already know who I’m talking about. No, she won’t go Carrie on you. I know, unbelievable, but in the future I know, she won’t.”

“You know?” - she said it out loud but her thoughts were similar to what she was saying.

She really wanted to know how the fuck I know it, quote.

“Well, I’m no precog, if that’s what you’re thinking. Oh, no, you’re not thinking. You don’t have that ability. You live in the world full of dangerous capes and you experienced trigger yourself, so why the hell you thought it would be alright to bully... No, not going there, I heard that’s traumatising, and I’m not seeing it from your point of view even if you pleadingly ask me to.”

“What the fuck!” - she cursed. - “You can see my memories?”

“I don’t think I want to. The only thing I did was chasing thought after thought after thought and I must want to do it for it to happen. And I didn’t like the experience. If I was able I would’ve throw up. That was my first gutted man, you see.”

“That was my feelings, you dumbass. That was MY first gutted man and I felt sick and pleased both.”

“So, that’s another reason for not to rehearse your trigger event.”

“No shit.”

“So, you’re going to listen to me? Are you calling PRT with a death wish or maybe I might enlighten you on Ragnarok waiting to happen?”

“Ragnarok, really?” - she snickered. - “Are you one of those?”

“Nah, that’s just I watched Thor Ragnarok movie again before I got here, so I’m stuck with it.”

“Superhero movie?”

She seemed somehow thoughtful. Wow, that might make the evening news, be careful with it, girl, being thoughtful might make you less dumb, and that only can change the survival chances of the whole Universe. No joke.

“Yes, how do you know?” - I started asking but she neverminded me back and I just had to shut it. - “Well, you see, back to Taylor Hebert, she’s going to cripple Lung of all capes the first night she’s out there as a cape.”

“Huh.”

“Silence is golden, but I feel you want to say something.”

“Ahem… Well, fuck?”

“Never stop yourself when you want to curse, if you're all alone, it eases the anger and let you blow off steam.”

“But your mother was a snob and never let you say anything rude at home, she never said that she liked what you did and always let your psychotic father reprimand you… physically. You was happy when you got free of him and you felt shame for it, because your accomplishments weren’t ever good for both of them. That’s why you think you can understand me, because you was a problem kid with anger issues and you got over it with time. You can’t. Understand, I mean. My... mother’s new husband harassed me, you don’t even want to see the thing, and why? Oh, you are afraid that you’d feel too sorry for me because I did what?”

“What the…”

“I did… Filled locker with toxic waste… tampons and… and then pushed her into. And left her there to rot.”

She shut her mouth with a clank of her teeth and I stopped seeing anything because she put her hands on her eyes. She started talking again and her voice wasn’t weak or sour. She spoke like she believed it.

“She must’ve deserved it somehow.”

“They deserve it when you shoot them… You really think yourself some vigilante hero. Like some fucking homemade Batman. It’s not her who did something wrong for you to harass her, it’s you and your powers and Emma fuckin Barnes.”

“All of them are like that." - her breath hitched. - "Escalation. It’s not just me. And I still think that Hebert is a weak piece of shit. She mistook pity for friendship, and wasn't even aware of it, just accepted it and thought that would last til death parts them, or whatever she imagined in her stupid little head... Oh, no, you don’t get to say that! I'm not less full of crap than you are. You almost killed a guy when you were my age, that's an ultimate bullying move to kill someone, you know it. Not my age? My age when Hebert’s trigger occured? That’s better. ”

She was smug like she got Tattletale powers, but she just used my trick on me.

That was scary as shit, but had some potential. She did have humiliating algebra grades and I couldn’t care more for what she said. There are other problems, like I am on Earth-Bet and Taylor Hebert might never trigger because Sophia knows and she has me in her head. Scion is scarier than kid's smugness. How do I even know about her grades? That’s not the point, the point is - she needs her inner Tattletale euthanized.

“Stop braggin’ with this face like you own me.”

“You started it! And how’d you know what face I make?”

“I’m inside, how wouldn’t I? It’s getting comfy here, I can feel more. Apparently, that’s your doing. I did nothing.”

“Oh shit.”

“I know no shit about this situation as well, but it seems we’re getting along well. Wanna continue reading my mind, Shadow Stalker?"

“Oh motherfukin shit.”

“Let it go, come on, curse like you never cursed! I want it so much but I can’t feel like I used to, so I need you to feel this for me, kid!”

“Fuck you fukin!” - she started shouting like we both wanted to, but got interrupted by the loud knocking.

“Stop cursing, young lady!” - Sophia’s mother was already in the doorway, she opened the door without any hesitation or warning and seemed very irritated, standing there crossing arms over her chest. - “Get up and help me with food. You’re being too loud, your siblings are sleeping.”

“But I don’t want to!” - Sophia got angry but this time her power didn’t nag her, it nagged me, stupid dog. So it went nowhere and Stalker was surprised that much, she even stood up and started walking to her Mom.

“Such a tiredly looking woman… No, I don’t want a pass on memory lane and see her shouting on you for nothing, thank you, Shadow Stalker. Fuck you too. People fuck up their relationship with parents, there’s nothing new.”

“I’m up, Mom,” - Sophia seemed unnerved but wasn’t suspicious.

After all, teenagers don't seem suspicious when they’re always up to something, do they?
2.1. Slice of Grumpiness
Or Welcome to the family, you, asshole.


The sun was mercilessly peeking through the windows of the kitchen, flashing tired Sophia right in the left eye. I didn't like her apparent unwillingness to close that damn eye or turn her head. Fuckin' masochist, she is.

Her mother wasn’t impressed by her almost somnambulistic daughter, which was my fault basically, but I wasn’t impressed by that dear lady as well. Weekend morning is worth being polite with your family. You probably have plans you don’t wanna ruin with your pissed off attitude, Sophia's Mom. So why are you so grumpy? That I'd really like to know. Well, I just have to admit, this girl is quite irritating and irritable, but her mother is fleeing the house like it’s on fire, not even pecking her kid on a cheek. I saw lack of good mood in the family and I didn't ask questions, because I always had some sort of that cold shoulder in mine as well, but it’s the weekend, you're not that grumpy at the weekend. I didn’t get why she wasn’t spending Saturday at home and I didn’t want to initiate the merging of thoughts with Shadow Stalker for something like that.

“She isn’t…” - apparently, it’s already hard for her not to peek into my process of thinking, that's why Sophia murmured her answer under her nose. - “She has two jobs, you dumbass. And I know how to feed the little one, she's two and a half years old, not months, so Mom doesn’t stick around for breakfast if she’s in hurry.”

I should have guessed so myself. Shame on me.

“Oh. I guess, I missed that it’s not my republic where your party might never end if you know people, like to walk around the town with people and know how to talk business during those parties for the sake of making money. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions because for me weekend is a sacred time I spend with people I love or appreciate, or both. And I haven't agreed to work on the weekend in the morning since I graduated University. I’m not that desperate. Is she that desperate?”

“She has three children in Brockton Bay and she never went to College or University, so her paycheck isn't that great," - she could barely continue talking with the same volume, and it downed on me, I said something very wrong. - "What do you think, is she desperate? And you're an ass, you know that?”

“Well, I’m not, that’s just my thoughts that are based on my knowledge and logical conclusions, not feelings I might’ve experienced while being in my body. There’s high probability I would’ve never told you that thing about being desperate aloud. I wouldn’t even think it.”

“And what’s wrong with not going anywhere on weekends?” - she shook her head and whispered. - “You see, I’m not really a fan of people...”

“Well, bonding always has success around food and drinks… And it’s good for any business.”

Her mom was already gone when Sophia poke into the fridge and cursed, because the milk expired and she didn’t want to spend her own cash on household needs.

"Why’s that exactly?"

“No one’s gonna give me more money if I spend what I already have,” - she explained. - “And my vigilante cache is for my emancipation, not for everyday life. It’s as simple as that."

"What exactly do you mean by vigilante cache is for emancipation? How do you even get that much? Your memories say that it’s already more than ten grand!"

"It’s so fucking disturbing when you read my mind," - she sighed and got some eggs out of the fridge. - "Why did you even do that? It definitely makes things awkward for both of us… You yourself didn’t like how it felt when I did it."

“And it would be much more awkward than that if you and I end up merging with each other. I doubt it would make any of us saner. I understand we both want our minds separate, but sometimes I just...”

“What? Why’s that important for you how much money I saved?”

“That wasn’t actually about how much. That was about how.”

“I’m not a marauder for fucks sake! I don't know why you're that biased against me, but I'm not! I clean their caches if I find money, but if I stop a drug deal, how the fuck do you think it’s a drug deal in the eyes of the police if there’s no money and only drugs on those fuckers? They won’t really go to jail after I put them in hospital if I take the money I found on them. It's called evidence, you dumbass”

“Okay, but I'm as dumb as you are, because you're saving money for emancipation and evading the whole situation, while you should've told your Mom about your trigger event at the first place and she wouldn't be that offended by your lack of support of her relationship with that bastard. I think she loves you, but for some women it's quite important to have a man in their life. Never understood the notion, but how could I? Oh, I just followed the thought about your little sister and it came to why your mom's that bitchy to you, no offence, I'm sorry, but I consider it really stupid..."

"You don't understand," - Sophia was cutting cheese and before that she oiled the pan. - "She would've wanted me in the Wards, she doesn't want problems, and they aren't helping, and I'm not a tinker to be valuable enough. They won't pay me real cash, you know it as well as I do. And that bastard is helping his daughter with money, even if I threatened to cut his dick off if he ever comes by while I'm here, so it's easier for her not to know."

"Got it. We'll continue it later, but now, Shadow Stalker, I think we’re not alone,” - I warned her because I noticed the staircase creeper before she did, she was busy with breaking eggs. My heads-up made her lazily turn around to the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Terry,” - she smiled viciously and that wasn’t a smile you give your favourite brother. - “You’re buying milk, Terry, and that's not negotiable. I don’t even drink it.”

Well, I finally got to see him - he was as grumpy as anyone could be Saturday morning in that family. And I have to admit, I’m really not used to any faces that aren’t european or asian, I might even guess right the nationality if we’re talking about asians, but people of darker colours are a bit hard for me. I cursed the day I’ve decided to go to India, really, they were kind of very much similar to me, and I’ve never been to african countries or America, so my experience is clearly lacking. And it seems like this boy resembles any black guy I’ve ever seen in my life. Tall, funny hair, sporty… Apparently, I should feel ashamed, because it sounded like what those russians say about caucasus people, that they are all one and the same, really. I know they say it when they specifically want to offend, but I never thought I’d catch myself musing about someone’s stereotypical appearance.

“It’s for the kid!” - he stopped his sneaky advances and answered properly. - "I don't drink it as well!"

“Yes, you do! And she needs it fresh, doesn’t she? That’s why you are going to go outside and buy the fucking thing!”

“You know, Sophie, you won’t get a boyfriend with such an attitude,” - he scoffed and added a nail to his coffin, apparently, because Sophia felt enraged. - "Bossy bitch."

"Have any suggestions?" - she hold the knife more tight and, well, I know that feeling when you really wanna hurt the idiot with anything you hold in your hand. She refrained from harming him, so gods bless her patience. She did have a nagging beast inside her, so her own anger wasn't as bad as usual. - "No? Well, you aren't in bed already, I'm cooking you eggs, and you just have to go and fucking get some milk. For your other little sister, not even for me," - she mockingly taunted him. - "You'd feel like your sisters' hero, dear brother, just get your lazy ass out and buy some milk!"

He continued scoffing but had no reason not to agree.

"Okay, I go. But first I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

He strolled off and Sophia cursed.

"Shit. I felt I forgot something. That's all your fault."

"Oh, I think not. Little pig." - I snickered and she cursed again.

Our scrambled eggs were almost ready and she threw cheese in, so we both felt really hungry and weren't inclined to argue more.

"What's his story, kid? I doubt he's gonna tell me anything, so that's kinda your call."

She started murmuring under her nose again, that was the only way I could hear her and not initiate the merging at the same time.

"He graduated last year and started working in the rotting Docks you must've known of. Apparently he's trying to study online in the process. Not really helping the family. Lazy piece of... Well, he's smart enough not to do hard drugs, though."

"Be glad that he is," - I would've shrugged if I could.

The hard drugs problem transcends space and time, really.