Chapter 23: 3-4 Charmed

Charmed 3.4

2000, July 5: Phoenix, AZ, USA

'I swear to God, if I ever get out of this, the first thing I'm going to do is figure out how to be omniscient,' I grumbled in my head as cold sweat broke over my brow.

"Aww," Camille cooed. She still looked as charming as ever, but with her allure temporarily shocked out of my system, I couldn't ignore the taunting mockery in her tone if I tried. "Is reality finally sinking in, Andy?"

She took out my relic pistol from her hidden holster and flipped it around in her hand. The pistol itself was deadly, though not that much more so than a mundane equivalent, but that wasn't my concern. My only concern regarding that pistol was how I could get it back; it was almost certainly useless in the hands of another.

I breathed deep. 'If she's hoping for a child's meltdown, she's going to be sorely disappointed,' I swore.

Instead, I gestured to the tiger staring hungrily at me. "Freeform. Since when does he work with the Crips? You are Crips, right? I thought he was a Klan wannabe."

"He was. Let's just say he's had a change of heart. And yes, we're the Crips. I didn't expect you to figure it out so soon though. What gave it away?"

"The guy in the other room has a gang tattoo over his heart. So, what's this about? A few potions can't be it, right? I'm worth a lot, but I'm not worth that much."

I typically tried not to pay attention to tattoos and piercings, usually had bigger demands on my time, but I wished I'd taken note earlier. Looking around more closely now, the shit I'd gotten myself into was plainly obvious to me. This was the biggest flaw that came with the Oracle's Elixir. The information could be present, but if I didn't pay attention to it or know what to look for, it'd get glossed over in the same way normal people ignored the eye color of random people they met on the street.

"Potions are great, but they're not all you can make, are they?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. "I'm an alchemical tinker, remember?"

"And alchemy is a very broad subject," Camille said simply. "A little birdie told us about a magic metal, one that could even lock away powers."

I felt a pit in my stomach form as I began to doubt everything I'd heard today. 'Just how much do they know? Who do they have on the inside? Did the attack even happen? Is Agent Morrison alive? Or was he Freeform all along?'

It was obvious what would happen if I refused to work with them. I could erase both Camille and Freeform right this instant, but that still left me trapped in a building with only one shot left. I'd recover my relic pistol, but it wasn't enough. Never mind my own life, I didn't forget how they'd picked me up at my apartment. Mom was in danger.

If there was a bright spot in all this, it was that they couldn't hold my supply of Oracle's Elixir over my head. They needed me to tinker or I'd be dead weight, so they couldn't deprive me of my vision.

I sighed. There was no point in hiding it if they knew that much already. "Petricite," I said solemnly. "I figured I'd become a big deal because of it, but I didn't think anyone would make a move this soon. It's not as all-powerful as you're making it seem though."

"Oh? Do tell."

"It's about as strong as steel, but can seal away external expressions of powers on contact. Too little Petricite and it can still fail. You'd need full-on medieval shackles and even then, it doesn't work on all powers."

She laughed. "Andy, Andy, you really don't know how important even that much is, do you? And the best part of all this is that you're still new! You made this within a few months of your debut. I can't wait to see what you'll manage next, all for us of course."

"Fine. I know when I'm beat," I growled. "For now" went unsaid. I gestured to the vat of healing potion I'd been readying. "Healing potions. Some Petricite. What else? What exactly do you expect me to make you?"

The man who'd been lounging in the other room came into our office. "I can answer that," he said with a roguish grin. He was handsome, with dreads swept back in a ponytail and a well-groomed beard tapered into a neat point. He didn't bother with a domino mask, but the cocksure way he walked screamed "cape." "You're a real impressive brat, you know that? So many neat little ideas floating around your head."

I pegged him as a thinker from that. Knowing the Crips roster, that made him Lawless, assuming they didn't pick up someone else like Freeform.

"Kevin," Camille whined, still beautiful even now. I shook my head to clear my mind of her power. It was like a persistent fog, always rolling in. I could clear away the clouds, but never for long. Even being around her, knowing what a two-faced bitch she was, I wanted to like her. "Must you interrupt?"

"Your little skit was coming to an end anyway, dear Tequila."

"You have no respect for secret identities, do you?" she huffed. Next to her, Freeform growled low.

He shrugged helplessly. "It doesn't matter with him anyway. He wasn't trying to unmask anyone before, but he's sure as hell paying attention now. That pink stuff's real powerful if you can handle drinking it. He already figured out who you are."

He flipped his phone and started to dial. Four rings later, a sultry voice rang through the phone. "Kevin?"

"Hey, boss lady. Got our new tinker on the line. He's got a fantastic list of inventions just floating around in his head."

"Just what do you know?" I tried.

"That would be telling, Andy."

"Not going to monologue? What kind of thinker are you?"

"A smart one. I'd like to think I'm not a cardboard cutout of a Bond villain," he said flippantly.

"Hello, Andy," La Torcha said from the phone. For a gang leader, she sounded surprisingly amiable. "My apologies if Kevin and Camille have been getting on your nerves. I promise they grow on you. Now, let's set everything on the table, hmm? As is no doubt clear by now, Kevin's discovered quite a few things about you. We know you're much more than an alchemical tinker and we want you to be one of us."

"A recruitment attempt? And in exchange you don't shoot me?"

"Well, there's that too I suppose, but I see no reason to be so uncouth. Believe it or not, I don't enjoy harming children. If I were so inclined, I could even pay your mother a visit. You wouldn't want that, would you?" La Torcha said, her voice sickeningly sweet. My knuckles turned white at that. Almost as if she sensed my rage, she continued. "But don't worry, your mom's fine. Honestly? It's easier to have you work with us than look for every chance to escape. No, no. Your life is the stick so you can go ahead and take this next bit as the carrot."

Camille stood up and sat next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I hated that I took comfort in it.

"Think about it, Andy. Rubedo. You got the raw end of the deal. We know all about how constraining the Wards have been on you. You can build so much more, but the white hats won't let you, yeah? Money. Resources. We're not lacking compared to the local office. You want to build a gun? Great. Armor? Sure. Some kind of power in a bottle? Even better. You can build anything with us.

"Hell, give it a few years for you to prove your loyalty and we'll even help you build yourself new eyes. I'm promising you freedom, true, unbridled freedom. More than that, we can give you a market. We have connections with everyone worth mentioning in the West Coast. If you want the freedom to build what you want, the power to do what you want, and the money to get there, you need us."

She stared at me with large, soulful eyes and even though I turned my face away, I could see her fine, another weakness of the Oracle's Elixir.

The offer itself was nothing special, downright predictable even, but it sounded almost irresistible because Camille was the one saying it. Despite it all, she was literally impossible to dislike. She had an undefinable allure that made me crave her approval. I wanted to call her my friend. I wanted to impress her. I wanted her to be happy. And if it meant walking down the road to Hell, well… I now knew why Tequila was so hard to capture even with such a flimsy secret identity.

Still, now that I was aware of what was happening, I could at least compartmentalize a bit. I ultimately had three choices: accept, decline, or fight. Really, that just left the first. If I declined, I couldn't guarantee my mom's safety, nor could I receive materials and information. If I fought, I'd die and I wouldn't put it past them to kill mom out of spite. There would be time for fighting, but now wasn't it.

Kevin, Lawless, grinned smugly at me, already aware of my answer.

"I accept," I said as firmly as I could. No matter what, I had to seem in control of my emotions. It was frankly the only think I could be in control of at the moment.

"No, no he doesn't," Lawless crowed. "He's thinking of ways to kill us slowly. Now mostly just me. Oh ho, he even knows how to make a vaporization beam." I schooled my expression and tried to empty my thoughts; I had plenty of practice in that regard. "Huh… impressive kid. He stopped thinking."

"Stopped thinking or spoofed your power?" Camille asked.

"Stopped thinking. You know, stopped focusing on anything in particular. Turned his mind into a white void. It's harder than it sounds. He can't really do anything like this, but I can't read him either."

'I want to see mom,' I thought. I saw him twitch a bit.

'I want to figure out his power.' His smirk widened further. He was giving away an awful lot, though I suspected he would have been far more cautious if I didn't look like an eight year old. A blind, disarmed eight year old.

This offer, it scared me. As early as six months ago, I might have accepted. Had they been the first to approach me, had Camille been the first to find me, I could see myself joining them full tilt, dedicating my life and the World Rune for her sake, giving her everything just to see her smile. She was just that achingly beautiful, even now.

I saw Lawless throw his head back and laugh as he looked between us. I knew this was her power talking and that I was severely compromised. Hell, I was hardly the first to feel this way, but even knowing that could only help so much.

It wasn't just her beauty either.

How much could I accomplish if I joined them over the PRT? How much closer could I get to defeating Scion? To making the world a better place? To preparing for the disasters I knew were coming?

I wanted so very much to make a difference, to be more than I was.

"Holy shit."

"Lawless?" Torcha called.

"Holy shit," he repeated. He then started cackling like a madman. "Hahahahahaha! Oh, God. Holy shit! You're precious, Andy! Hahahahahahaha!"

"For the rest of the class?" Camille said impatiently.

"He-" he wheezed. "He wants to kill Scion!"

"What?" La Torcha's voice crackled over the line.

"Seriously, boss lady. I'm not shitting you, I swear. I fucking told you he's not some prissy goody two shoes. Kid's fucking metal!"

"Oh? My, our little tinker has some big dreams," Camille cooed, pinching my cheek.

I had a fair handle on Lawless' power now. He'd been picking up on everything that I wanted, simple enough. My first guess was a more restricted version of Tattletale's power, albeit with a broader range.

His power could clearly cover a large area, though I didn't have any idea as to the limit. He'd discovered much about me by spying on me without ever having entered my apartment, which meant he wasn't limited by obstacles like walls. He was probably listening in from the other room, too.

I played it off the only way I could think of.

I folded my hands across my chest and said, "I want to be the greatest tinker ever. I want to prove to everyone that there is no one like me and there never will be. And well," I shrugged, "if you want to be the best, you gotta beat the best."

"And we can help you there. Whatever you want to accomplish, you're going to need freedom," La Torcha was quick to promise. I knew it was bullshit. She knew it was bullshit. But it contained a kernel of truth nonetheless. "You want to be the best tinker? Fine, come prove it with us. We won't hold you back like the PRT."

And yet, as attractive as her offer was, I could see the bigger picture. My wants and desires aside, the Crips would not help me better the world, not truly. Every advancement I made, they'd use for their own gain. They weren't like the Undersiders, criminals with hearts of gold, or the Travelers, a bunch of kids stranded in an alien world driven by desperate hope. They were murderers, rapists, and druglords who would happily damn thousands for their own ambitions. I'd read the internal reports summarizing the circumstances that led to them getting massacred by Alexandria. They were stone-cold villains.

More than that, joining them right now would mean burning my bridges with the PRT. Skitter had made it abundantly clear where that road led. Half the dumpster-fire that was her cape life could be blamed on her paranoia and stubborn unwillingness to mend bridges or utilize existing resources. Yes, the PRT was corrupt, but she'd so thoroughly poisoned the water that any hope of reconciliation was buried in an avalanche of mutual distrust.

And Director Lyons wasn't Director Piggot. I had to keep reminding myself of that. The PRT of now was not the PRT of Brockton Bay. As much shit as the PRT got in canon, most of it admittedly well-deserved, in the here and now, they represented resources I couldn't hope to tap into if I left. In the end, Camille's promise was but empty air: The Crips couldn't hope to equal the PRT and they certainly couldn't match the ones pulling the strings.

"I accept," I said again. Seeing no point in lying with a thinker in the room, I added, "For now."

"Ha!" Lawless barked. "The nerve of this brat, eh, Teq?"

"Give it time, Andy," Camille cooed, pulling me tighter into a side-hug. "We're going to be the best of friends. You'll see."

"We'll talk more later," Came La Torcha's voice. "For the moment, I want him making as many health potions as possible. Just remember, Andy. The more you help us, the more we'll be willing to help you."

When the call ended, most everything I had in my backpack was returned to me. I had to explain just how my creation process worked, but did the best I could to not get into details. I needed the Mana Crystals to make health potions and the quart of water, they didn't know it was blessed, was deemed harmless. I made a point to not think about anything except obeying La Torcha; I had no doubt that Lawless would be sticking around to keep an ear out for any treacherous thoughts.

Author's Note

Camille cannot use the relic pistol. There isn't some magic DNA scanner to it. Rather, it's a matter of just what the relic pistol was made from. Verbatim from the wiki: "These weapons aren't activated by force or trigger but by the sheer force of righteous will of the user, channeling the light of their soul to push back the darkness."

Camille's body is not attuned to mana and so would have a lot of trouble channeling it into the weapon. Even if she could, it's debatable whether or not the weapon would sync with her. How can she use a weapon powered by the soul if she doesn't even know it exists?

On another note, conversations with thinkers are really hard to write. Just keep in mind that Lawless can hear "desires." For example, he can't gain anything from a thought like "The PRT is run by Cauldron." But, if Andy's thought changes to "I want to shove a rusty fire iron up Contessa's ass," he would be able to pick up the hostility towards someone named Contessa, but not who she is or why.