User: Rosemary, the Middle Krokodil

Civ: Wirebaby

The user is able to extend thin red wires resembling veins from the pores of their skin. These wires can be extended several metres away from the user and can coil to form solid appendages, nets, or ropes to move the user from location to location. When the user wishes, the wires will seek out an individual who has the highest heartbeat of those in the user’s immediate vicinity and burrow into their skin. Once this happens, the user can use the elements in their victim’s body to create dangerous compounds and objects, such as sulfuric acid, gasoline, or nails from the iron in their blood. Any damage the user’s wires take transfers to the pore it came from.

Thomas wasn’t worried about getting wasted. Rather than order alcohol, he had decided to indulge his nostalgia as he was wont to do, ordering a few bottles of Chorus and enjoying them in a private booth away from the dance floor. Thomas relived various memories of his childhood—trips with his mother, sleepovers with friends as a carefree youth, visiting grandparents. The occasional date. It was a simple life he had been returning to. One before “moral ambiguity” and “bad finances.” For every drug, there is the high, where you experience incredible moments of pleasure, and then the crash, where it all goes away and you feel worse than before. Chorus was an interesting case of this, where the highs were technically all manufactured by the user. And then the crash was simply represented by one’s realization that the seeming reality had been manufactured. Waking up. There weren’t any chemical dependencies inherent to Chorus, as far as he knew. Of course, that didn’t stop it from being addictive.

Blair knew that Chorus was both highly illegal, due to its ability to destroy a person’s productivity, and produced by the Krokodil Crime Family. And as she looked over at Thomas, drinking himself into a delusion, she couldn’t help but feel for him. There were things she wanted back as well—places and times she’d rather be. But she couldn’t give up on reality. And now would be a terrible time to start. Since the Krokodil Crime Family created Chorus, once it toppled, Thomas would have to go cold turkey. Or he would betray them. Blair didn’t want to think about that possibility. Blair sat down across from Thomas in his booth. “What’cha remembering?” she asked.

“I was on a date. Why?”

“I was just curious. Maybe you could talk about it instead? Instead of drinking yourself away.” Blair scanned the table, seeing the empty bottles on the table.

“This is why I don’t like showing this part of myself to people.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t like showing people . . . this. It’s private. I take Chorus to get away from the present, but if I tell people about it, then it affects the present as well. And now I just want to keep drinking Chorus.”

“Do you not like the present?”

“No, that’s . . . that’s a part of it. I like being alive, and this isn’t me trying to retreat into a fantasy or anything. I just . . . miss people. I miss a lot of people. And until there’s a Civ that can bring back the dead, this is the only way I can see them again.”

“Who do you miss?”

“What are you, my therapist? I already have someone who takes care of that, and it’s already almost too much with just them.”

“I’m your friend, Thomas.”

“You’ve known me for like a week! I’m just some guy who you tried to kill and then crashed on your couch for a while. Why are you being so nice to me?” Thomas yelled.

Blair didn’t know what to say. Finally, she grabbed a bottle of Chorus. “I thought about where I’d seen your Civ before, Thomas. I knew I recognized it. I just wasn’t sure from where. And then I took a good look at your costume. Do you remember a train crash?”

Thomas thought. “Um, no. Let me take some Chorus quickly and remember.”

“Wait. What? Don’t do that. That’s not what I’m trying to encourage here.”

* * *

Phantom Limb was standing on top of a large metal building. He had been standing there, waiting, for the past few hours. He had blown off a date in order to sit on top of a building in a costume made of tape and metal hands. He had just started wearing a costume for his vigilante work. It was eight years ago. Thomas was only twenty, far shorter than he was in the present but only a bit scrawnier. He had suspected that the energy his Civ consumed made it difficult to build muscle mass. Or maybe it was just because he kept needing surgery on them after getting involved in bad fights. And this one was going to be no exception.

Thomas had blown off a date for one specific reason: The Krokodil Crime Family. He had been tailing them for a while—investigating their habits, learning of their Civs. And one of the three sisters was going to be visiting the site of a club that was set to open in a few weeks: The Snapping Jaws. Opened by the Krokodils themselves. Young Thomas watched as a woman with bright red hair walked off the train and towards the unmarked black building. “That must be Rosemary,” Thomas said aloud, curiously examining her as she walked inside. “The middle child. Probably crazy due to lack of attention received as a youth. Also because she works for an evil crime syndicate.”

Thomas took a running start at the building, jumping off and powering himself up, slowing his descent by holding himself up with a set of phantom hands. He made it to the roof safely, bracing his fall and peering over the edge. “Phantrana,” he whispered, sending a phantom eye into the facility. He saw Rosemary standing in the center and speaking with a handful of what appeared to be bouncers who had been setting up furniture. Unfortunately, Thomas couldn’t hear them, but he could track Rosemary’s location. He wasn’t planning on killing her—not without knowing her Civ. It had a reputation among people Thomas spoke to who were involved with the family. A reputation for being terrifying. Thomas gulped in fear, following Rosemary’s movements with a watchful gaze. She had walked to a back room and up to an alcove, with Thomas’s gaze following close behind. Then, she mouthed something. Something he couldn’t quite hear.

Thomas knew Rosemary was right under him. She was surrounded by guards, meaning Thomas couldn’t just drop in and assassinate her, despite his urge to. Instead, he waited a bit longer and eventually saw several guards shuffle out of the building . . . and Rosemary alone in her alcove. “Can I get her? Do I have an opening?” Thomas asked himself. There was a hatch on the roof that Thomas was standing on. And an identical one that Thomas could see from inside of the alcove. Rosemary had her back turned.

Thomas quietly descended into Rosemary’s private lounge from the rooftop. It had just had its furniture moved in, and Thomas had stayed perfectly undetected by hiding behind a couch.

“I know you’re here, Phantom Limb.”

Thomas’s blood went cold.