You Can't Always Get What You Want

Needlepoint hadn’t precisely helped.

She’d found scarves comforting, something about the tactile sensation of long woven threads helped calm her. It’s possible that the weird connection to the strands of Fate that had been instilled in her by Project: Norn had disposed her to a certain level of obsession. Threads were important: threads were all there was.

But then, enough points make a pattern-- it’s possible that Violet had simply always reacted to being good at things -- like music or exercise-- by taking to them with a slightly monomanic intensity. A way to enter a flow state and block out the outside world, with its myriad problems and complexities; a way to stop thinking and simply *do*.

All of which was to explain the eight yards of scarf presently gliding down the hallways of the Big Base.

The space was, technically, “The Big Lab,” a communal space that had been budgeted with state of the art forensic and analysis gear, along with repair equipment for the various gadgetry that furnished a superheroic crime fighting career. But its days of resembling a sort of CSI lab had long since vanished into the realms of a slightly headier science fiction.

The sign stuck to the door read: “EPOCH’S LAB.”

The “keep out” was simply implied. Albeit, largely by a constellation icons warning of ‘radioactive contents’ and ‘hazardous chemical and biological materials present’, and a very official-looking warning visitors to ‘Enter At Your Own Risk’.

Violet Park paused outside the door as if to knock, and looked up, expectantly.

GAIA didn’t need the hint, and obligingly chimed within.

Epoch stares at the rift generator he had been working on with a perplexed expression. TF sitting comfortably on his head does the same but with a frog-like air of disinterest. Several more frogs bound through the lab keeping it clear of pests and causing no small amount of mess. Why did he even bother with the large terrarium taking up an entire corner of his work space!? It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent weeks collecting all manner of flora and microfauna, from all manner of points in space and time, to help the various frogs feel more at home since they had decided to stay after he accidentally pulled them during his search for TF. Ungrateful.

The rift generator was producing a sickly orange glow that reflected off of Epoch’s protective goggles. “No no no, I’m telling you TF, this is supposed to be mauve, orange means we’re connected to that one where the land and ocean are switched.”

TF blinks slowly but says nothing as they are in fact a frog. “Okay well you never mentioned that you were color blind, was I just supposed to assume that?” Epoch throws the rift generator over his shoulder where it clatters onto another overly full work bench. “Yes yes, we have to start from scratch, that one’s already linked so it won’t help-” He is cut off by a chime overhead. “Who? Someone that would announce themselves before coming in, hmmmmmm.” He lifts TF from his head and looks them deep in the eyes. “Yes it probably is, but why come to me? Curious indeed.” He places TF securely on his head once more and swivels around in his chair. “Come in!”

Violet’s scarf entered, and Violet accompanied it shortly thereafter.

“Am I interrupting?” She asked, crossing the distance between them and nodding slightly as she observed his reply, though slightly before he’d had an opportunity to utter it. “I could schedule an appointment, if you’d prefer to block off the time?” *And if you had anywhere to schedule these things with. GAIA, I suppose.*

“Haha would you look at that TF you were right it is her!” Epoch grins wide as he stands from his chair with a flourish. “Welcome welcome, yes yes of course or rather no no interruptions. You’re not.” He gestures vaguely at the lab. “Please take a seat, what brings you here today. I’ve been curious about what it is exactly that you can do. It feels familiar but not, I’ve actually prepared some tests that we could run if it was something that you’d be interested in exploring further. I know maybe that isn’t something you would be interested in.”

Epoch looks to Violet expectantly as he pulls out a notepad and begins jotting things down.

Always a step ahead, Violet glides onto the seat as he gestures, her scarf swirling behind her.

“I-- “ she hesitated.

An unpleasant rush of memories, from her time as Weapon: Atropos.

Men in white or grey jackets with the red circle insignia.

Clipboards.

Tests.

Calibration exercises.

Medical equipment of all descriptions.

Biological samples to measure the physical effects of the Reweaving process.

Reflex measurements.

Performance drills.

Recall exercises for endless volumes of information she’d never learned.

Precognitive batteries.

Targeting drills.

Strength and endurance measurements.

How many times had she been purposefully and precisely injured, just to test her healing capabilities alone?

How many times had she fought until she fell, only for them to nod with a “hrm” in their throats, tongues clucking, her design flaws exposed-- more of her purely human weakness to be seared away in the next iteration?

She’d had enough of tests for both her lifetimes.

This plays out on Violet’s face with a quick motion of the eyes and a sharp inhalation of breath. But she also had a fairly poorly defined sense of self-- a hard time drawing boundaries,or defining what she did or did not want. And just at this particular moment, she happened to be very much in need of Epoch’s assistance. “If you think it would be useful,” she nodded, granting her assent.

“It’s not seeing the future, exactly.” she tried to explain. He’d have worked that part out himself already, of course. “Though that may be something of a distinction without a difference.”

Epoch narrows his eyes studying her reaction to his inquiry and shakes his head. “Unwilling participants never give good data. If you ever feel like it is something you would like to explore feel free to come to me again.” He stands from his seat and deposits TF among the other frogs. The frogs all rally around them and begin a quiet comforting droney warble.

Epoch throws his notebook away to another cluttered table and comes back to where Violet is seated pulling out another notebook. “So if not for my experiments what is it that I can do for you?” He sticks his pen behind his left ear forgetting he already had one on the right side and once again looks to her awaiting a response.

“The experiments might help,” she considered. “It’s not totally *unrelated* to my abilities. Or rather, abilities somewhat similar to my own,” Violet fiddled absently with the weave of her scarf. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the project that made me;” It never paid to underestimate Tiago’s knowledge-base. “I was made into a weapon, but as a part of a combined-arms weapons *system*. Recent events…”

She frowns, reflecting on her failure. “Recent events make it appear as though they’re about to complete *Weapon: Clotho*, the third leg of that tripod, even in my absence. I can’t allow them to do the kinds of things they did to me to somebody else. But so far... ” -- a deep sigh punctuates the pause. “So far, every attempt I’ve made has ended in fairly miserable failure. I’m not being out-fought, but I’m losing repeatedly anyhow-- it’s rapidly bringing me to the conclusion that I’m not actually clever enough on my own to do what needs to be done.” She looked up, a bit chagrined. She left out the other bit just for now.

Epoch taps on the tip of his nose as he considers her words. “I will admit to not knowing much in this instance, The Crimson Circle was it? They weren’t a group I encountered often though on the occasions that I did they typically were not a group I was overly concerned about.” Epoch holds out his notepad for Violet to see, on it he has drawn a triangle with a small representation of Violet at the top with lines leading to characters for Lachesis and Clotho. The drawing is detailed and small notes written in an unintelligible cypher language riddle the page with arrows going to each of the three on the triangle. “So if I don’t misunderstand your situation this Project: Norn was to make manifest the power of the Fates from greek antiquity yes? Atropos, you, Lachesis the one causing you difficulty and lastly Clotho.” He points to each corner of the triangle in turn as he speaks.

“So the first thing to establish is how successful they were in their original endeavors so we can determine the limits of each successive creation’s abilities as the processes they use are refined.” He points to Violet at the top of the triangle. “Atropos--”

Here Violet gives a little half-wave with her hand, as if to say: *yep. That’s me*. It’s almost cheery.

“--was the one that would cut the thread when a human’s life was to end, how does this relate to what you can do?”

“I don’t think we’re literally embodying the powers of the fates-- but they were at least the conceptual framework the Project was operating under. As Weapon: Atropos, I was intended to be the physical module of the system. Security. Special operations. Assassination. The one that does the actual… “ Violet made a little grasping gesture, as she does when she is pushed out of her verbal comfort zone and can’t quite apprehend the word. She swallows as she settles on a euphemism. “The, uh, Cutting.”

“There were…. Physical enhancements. Strength. Speed. A slow but surprisingly thorough regeneration ability.” Subconsciously she flexes her left hand, the memory of an old injury close to the surface. “They put things in my head. Many lifetimes worth. Some I don’t know about. Skills. Security. Infiltration. Made me. *very.* good at fighting.” Her tone makes it clear she wants there to be no mistake about just how much they crammed in there.

“But that’s not the part you’re interested in, is it?” She tries to move the subject along, “I’m connected to the Weave of Fate in some way. I can see-- I say see, but it’s not optical, I *perceive* things-- as encoded in patterns of woven threads, before they manifest in physical reality. My range is usually pretty short, but I process in detail significantly faster-than-realtime, unlike my sister. And, I seem able to focus on weak points, vulnerabilities, flaws---ways to *break* things. Even ones you might expect to be more durable.“

“I was…” she avoids eye contact. “Effective. In the field”

Epoch nods along vigorously pulling his notepad back and scribbling furiously as she explains how she was changed for Project: Norn. “Fascinating, so in a way your ability allows you to manipulate the ‘Fate’ of an object by finding the section that is meant to be ‘cut’ and doing so. Yes I can see how that could be a very effective weapon indeed, someone with fewer scruples could do unimaginable amounts of harm and damage with an ability like that.” He winks and smiles. “Luckily it’s you.” He turns the notepad back around showing his diagrams of Violet’s powers in action, a mannequin style figure being punched by a small drawing of violet with the imagery of scissors and a snapped thread drawn over both individuals.

“Lucky.” Violet murmurs, darkly as an echo. She’d only mentioned the abilities-- not, in a larger sense, how she was changed.

“So with that in mind we come back to your current problem of Lachesis, In Myth she was the one that determined the length of the thread so not necessarily dangerous in and of itself one would think.” He flips the page and begins drawing once more, several lengths of “threads” flowing away from a representative figure of Lachesis. “Is my guess correct then that your hmmm counterpart possesses a greater degree of vision when it comes to individuals, perhaps able to determine their intents or actions? How close am I?”

“Clotho spins, Atropos cuts, Lachesis--- measures,” Violet nods. “The mental module. Strategy, intelligence and logistics. They reused enough code to make her a competent fighter-- I’m better, but she’s not trivial. Dramatically enhanced intelligence. Like me, she can see the weave of fate. Unlike me, she operates at much much longer ranges. She’s slower-- no dodging laser-fire, takes time to recompile if the plan is off track. But to a much greater extent than me, she can be said to have direct knowledge of the future.”

Violet snaps out of narration mode to regard Tiago closely for a moment. “You can understand why I imagined you might be uniquely qualified to have some insight?”

“Her power isn’t localized to individuals-- reconnaissance, planning, a whole mess of seemingly unlucky coincidences-- but it’s good with people, yeah. If you ever have a conversation with her, there’s this…. Disturbing sense that not only has she played this scenario out in her head. She hasn’t just chosen her words in advance, she’s seen the possible outcomes and used her words to choose yours.” Violet shudders a little.

“We’ve fought three times. In a straight physical fight, I should win ten times out of ten. As it is, I’m oh for three. The first time she neutralized me, and wiped most of my brain by using one of a series of command codes the Project installed as a failsafe on top of their conditioning. The second, we fought until Verve lightning-zapped me from behind. An accident, but one she’d arranged. The third-- I nearly had her, but she escaped in the chaos of the Fae Forest collapsing into Shadow.”

“But…. she does appear to have a weakness. A blind spot. She was wrong about what I’d do when she deprogrammed me.” Violet looks up. “Now-- I didn’t cheat or avoid Fate. I’m not convinced it’s even possible. She read wrong. But that’s too simple to just get wrong by chance. Which means -- she’s subject to some kind of safeguards. Not unlike the command codes. The Directors were right to be worried she’d have her own agenda-- her powers only saw what her programming *let* her see.”

“Okay, I need to know more about how these fights went. Based on what you told me and what I can recall from the myths I feel like the three of you should all counter each other in some way.” Epoch flips back a page to the one with the triangle diagram. He updates it with arrows pointing to and from each of the corners.

“We were a weapon system, more than a myth cycle;” Violet frowns. She tends to compartmentalize the mysticism involved in her creation to the Reweaving process-- not unlike the Circle, treating it as if it was something rational and precise that could be controlled. It was comforting but not altogether accurate.

“That is-- we were designed to compliment each-other, shore up our respective weaknesses and function holistically rather than counter each other directly. My physical capabilities exceed hers, significantly. It’s just that any non-artificial scenario in which we engage in combat is a fate she’s foreseen-- something she’s prepared outcomes for, to triumph despite superior opposition. It’s only a narrow set of scenarios she can win, but she has the luxury of choosing and preparing for them. When we worked together in the field, it was a significant force multiplier.”

“So we have an internal fail safe from the Crimson Circle. Which by the way have you discovered what your limits are in that regard or has that information eluded you? Well regardless I see two paths for us to move forward, one is that we work to overcome the failsafes within you as that will give you an edge and two which would be good to do regardless of if the first one works or not is find how you can snip her plans so to speak. You’re the one that decides where the end is, so what if we just change it?”

“I don’t think I have many?” Violet scrunches up her face; she wanted to externalize this, avoid talking about her trauma, work the problem. “First line was pretty thorough conditioning. Programming, really. But much of that seemed like it was wiped by whichever set of command codes Lachesis used when I was first rescued. Beyond that, the next line were the codes themselves.” She considers for a moment. “Which I suppose my brain still won’t let me process? I’ve heard her try to use them again, briefly, but they kinda… slide off?”

She taps the side of her head for emphasis. “So I suppose there’s still some programming rattling around up here?”

“For someone that has interacted with valkyries and other mythological figures the fact that you’re so insistent on the idea that the myth is not an important factor is rather amusing.” Epoch laughs to himself taking more notes in that same indecipherable script. “One time in my travels I met an individual that through some stroke of fate had become an aspect of their planet’s God of Strife. They too did not believe in the stories told by their ancestors. Stories that foretold of the events that would follow their ascension.” Tiago get’s a far off look in his eyes as this long lost memory rushes back. On his notepad he begins drawing a mountain range and a figure at the summit with a howling blizzard brewing.

With a start Epoch looks down at what he had been doing before tearing out the page and tossing it into an atomizer. “Silly me, must maintain consistency in the notes or I’ll get it all mixed up later.” He turns back to Violet with a smile once more. “What was I saying? Oh right, so by refusing to accept the mystical nature of their transformation and understand everything that it entailed eventually they were overcome by it and the planet was lost.” A small shrug. “Granted this could be a completely different scenario, but it is important to keep an open mind with these things. As you seem to be mostly free of the programming we won’t focus so much on that, though the idea that we could perhaps turn those shut down phrases back at her is one to keep in mind as well. However without knowing if that would work or not we are left with countering her abilities. Plans are fine but typically there is a limit to what can be predicted, and even with an ability like hers there will be a point where the chaotic nature of humans will disrupt them. I think if we focus on your ability to snap the threads of fate we should be able to bring her down, if there’s one thing that I’ve learned is that the more precise the machine the less is needed to disrupt it.”

“No! I --” Violet looks away, suddenly visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not. Not. *At all.* Free of the programming, I mean.  It’s just-- it’s not *safeguards*. It’s-- I’m always on the edge of losing control.  I was designed to be-- to be--deadlier. Big Team does not kill.” She recites the last emphatically, like a mantra. “There’s a very real sense in which I’m *holding back*. Because I can’t go just a little, and if I lose-- if--”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to be... precise.” Violet hangs her head in shame, catching her breath.  “I haven’t experienced any trouble reading or acting against agents of the Circle, or hitting them. Nothing like that. Or-- at least, I haven’t perceived any such difficulty. But, then, Lachesis hadn’t put together why I was off her script. It’s conceivable that not noticing things is part of it.”

“What I do--” she tries to move the subject away from her programming. “I don’t experience it as snapping the threads of fate. Not directly, at any rate? It’s perceptual. A *read*-power.  Clotho was supposed to be the *write* module. Lachesis is like me-- less prediction and more interpretation. It might be possible to overwhelm her, but people…. aren’t usually very chaotic, in and of themselves.”

Epoch throws his head back with a bark of laughter. “You’ve been on the team for how long again?” He shakes his head and writes down some more of what she’s said.

“Five months give or take,” Violet offers.

Epoch chuckles at the response. “It was rhetorical, but still.” He looks up from his notes with narrowed eyes studying Violet as she sits across from him. “I do wonder if perhaps you aren’t afraid of what it is that you can do, and because of that fear you hold yourself back from what you can really do. Maybe the reason you keep losing to Lachesis is because she’s accepted her powers while you still reject them.”

“Of course I’m afraid of what I can do.” Violet snaps a little defensively. He’d struck a nerve. “She was made to measure-- to plan and know-- I was made to cut. What I do is--” she catches herself, unable to actualize the lethal act she was created to perform. “I’m not willing to do that. She’s my sister. I can’t.” She shakes her head.

“Hmm.” Tiago quirks his mouth up into a half frown and gives Violet a sad look. “Look, I get it. Maybe not the same as you, but I am also the product of human hubris. Granted it was my own and I’m still working on it, but it took me a very long time to accept what I have become. I floated for what felt like millenia before I finally managed to find direction. Then it took several more to refine what I could do to manage to land back where I had disappeared. Look I’m not saying kill her, I’m saying we can work to refine your powers so you have the control to do what you need to do without such a, final, result.”

“What I’m trying to say is that’s what my powers *do*. What I’m *for*. That’s what’s there to refine.” Violet shakes her head. “Lachesis knows this. And she knows I won’t kill her, and she’s willing to use that against me. I can disable most foes nonlethally, but if you’re good enough, and you’re willing to exploit that asymmetry, it’s a genuine disadvantage.  Combined with having to keep her from deploying command codes against me, it’s more difficult than it ought to be. But even with those allowances, I am a *much* better fighter.”

Epoch ponders for a moment. “Okay, you’re a better fighter, I could probably whip up some earbuds that would allow you to filter her words before your brain processes them, though that would likely require some neural mapping so that the correct sequence of neurons are disrupted without knocking you out or eliminating your hearing all together.” He spins back to his work bench and begins drawing up a new schematic for the device. “Really though this is just a stop gap. All the gadgets I can prepare for you won’t compare to you just nipping her plans in the bud, but alas if you insist on ignoring your true capabilities it is not my place to ask for more of you.” He turns to show the drawing. “I chose earbuds because they are less likely to be dislodged during active engagements. Think of it as voice activated noise cancellation. We key it off of your brain’s response to her words so that when she speaks these little things will emit a frequency that will render her words unintelligible.”

“I’m not ignoring my capabilities!” Violet objects, somewhat defensively.

Epoch gives Violet a pitying look. “Squandering? Wasting? You’re afraid to look closely at yourself and that’s okay. We can make these earbuds any color you want so they can match your costume better.”

“What are you talking about?!” Violet stands. “I’m asking you for help dealing with a supervillain who seems to have walked away with what she wanted in multiple confrontations with the team. Based on the similarity between our powers, I think there are meaningful vulnerabilities that can be exploited-- blind spots, processing speed, the potential to be goaded into emotional mistakes. I think that I think your mind and your experiences outside of time make you uniquely qualified to have an insight into, to figure out how to exploit. But you keep trying to turn this back on me, like the reason I haven’t been able to stop her isn’t because she has literally scripted our encounters in advance, but some half-baked notion that I’m not willing to let go and be the pitiless weapon they designed me to be. Do you know how hard I have to work to stop that from happening?!”

Epoch shrugs, “Yes yes and I created a superweapon that cost several hundred if not thousands of lives. We are more than the definitions others ascribe to us. I’m not telling you to become what they wanted you to be, I’m telling you to make your abilities your own instead of theirs. I could slay your demons for you, but they never stay down that way.” He turns back to the drawing. “I’m partial to white or silver although I can understand how that might clash with your overall aesthetic, would purple or black be better?”

“I’m not asking for personal growth, I’m trying to stop them from doing to someone else what they did to me! And, God forbid, from what they’ll do if they ever get Clotho operational! If you can slay the demon, you slay the demon.” She was too annoyed to get into the difficulties of maintaining control, or her profound revulsion at the idea of embracing any of the ways she had been edited, to even begin to probe the ‘how’ of such a thing.

“Hmm, that’s a shame. It would be fascinating to see.” He taps his pencil against his notes as he thinks on what Violet wants from him. “I do admit that while goading others seems to be something I do fairly easily it’s not really done on purpose. I tend to just say things as I see them. Maybe that will make some people dislike me, but honestly I couldn’t care less about what other people think. I know who I am and while it might not be for everyone, it works for me.” He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll help you when you want me to help you Violet because we’re on this team together. Tell me everything you know about your sister and I will devise a strategy that should be foolproof in assuring your victory.”  Epochs eyes shine as a knowing smile spreads across his face. “But know that when the plan falls apart,  because all plans fall apart ,when it turns out that I was right and the only way for you to beat Lachesis is by using your powers to their full capabilities, well I suppose I won’t have to say I told you so will I?”

The knuckles of Violet’s hand are white as they grip the edge of her chair. Every day of her life, she fights to not be the thing they made her. And she fights with herself, against wanting the things they made her want. “I’m already using them to as much of their capabilities as I can without crossing that line. There isn’t a magical shonen power-up montage sequence lurking in here to unlock,” she says, tapping her chest

“But I’ll do whatever I need to do-- to stop them, and if possible free her.”  She sighs, slumping a little, as if steam releasing from a valve.

“What do you want to know?”

Epoch smiles wide before handing over a sheet of paper. “Fill out this form detailing absolutely everything about your powers and hers. From there I will work with GAIA to make up a scenario in the Danger Room to simulate confrontations using my abilities to supplement some of the things that the projection won’t be able to replicate. And finally when you decide that I’m right I will create a practice routine that will allow you to refine your powers.” Epoch walks over to his terrarium with all the frogs and picks TF back up placing them gently on the top of his head. “But first, I’m thinking gelato. I knew a really good place a long time ago and I’ve been trying all the shops in Halcyon to try and find one that’s close.” He starts walking towards the door. “You’re welcome to join me, otherwise please turn the lights off on your way out, the frogs haven’t figured out how to do it yet.” And he steps through the door not waiting for her response.

“Gelato?”

….

….

*\*ribbit\**

*\*ribbit\**

*….*

“Does *everybody* in this place think of ice cream as an answer?” Violet asked to an empty room, before she hopped off her perch and hit the light.