Disclaimer: If you are under age, not a fan of mind control, enslavement, and a bit of bimbofication, or otherwise not permitted to read ahead, this is your warning. All characters are 18 or older.
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I'd just like to say that the following story draws a lot of inspiration from the works of Handcuffgirl, Madam Kistulot, and Trilby Else, along with a slew of awesome authors I've read over the years. Thanks to all of them for all the great stories, and sorry in advance for what it's lead me to write. Thanks also to all the people who took the time to read it as it was a work in progress and gave feedback.
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"Now tell me what you're going to do next."
"Gonna go and get help for myself. To stop drinking."
"Good boy. And what will happen if you ever try and pull something like this again?"
"Gonna...stop, then go home and think about why rape and muggin' is wrong."
"Good boy."
Anna Quinn, the superheroine formerly known as the Empress sent the intoxicated thug on his way, stumbling out of the alley and back to his home to sleep off the worst hangover of his life. Hopefully this would mark a turning point for the man, but that was up to him. She turned her attention back to the alley's other occupant, a young woman standing silently at attention with a vacant look and parted lips, running mascara at odds with her placid face.
"And what are you going to do next?"
"Go home...sleep..."
"Good girl. And in the morning, what will you remember about tonight?"
"Went drinking with friends...went home alone...saw a scary man..." Her face tensed up a little, "...but he didn't do anything. But made me scared...so need to be more careful in the city..."
"Good girl." Anna focused for a second, spreading her consciousness outward with a brief sonar-like pulse to take stock of the nearby minds in the area. As she picked out the safest route, she cleaned up the woman's face a little with a fresh hand wipe, "Now go left at the alley and you'll reach the subway. Get out of her and go take it."
The girl stumbled out of the alley, leaving Anna alone. She let out a well-earned sigh. This kind of crimefighting wasn't at all very flashy, but it was less traumatic for the victims and until the politicians did something about reforming the prisons, she didn't want to send anyone else behind bars if it could be avoided. Ten minutes of light brainwashing to make sure that both walked away in better condition was worth the effort.
Not that all the other superheroes saw it her way. In their view, invading someone's mind and tinkering with everything was even worse than anything that man might have been planning to do, that the ends did not justify the means. There were some things she'd been allowed to do--make people freeze, drop their guns, go to sleep--but that kind of direct control was ten times harder than the "wrong" way of doing things. Making someone scared to move, feel that their gun was hot, that they were sleepy...or even that they just wanted to surrender and be a good person from that point on. But no, that somehow made her the same as the villains. And she didn't even want to think about how insensitive they were to blame her for reading their minds, as if it was something she could just turn off and on like a lightswitch.
Ridiculous.
The whole situation made her nostrils flare just thinking about it as she began to head back towards her apartment, feet a bit sore from the long patrol. If they didn't want her as a superheroine, that was fine. The Empress would stay out of the limelight. But that didn't mean that Anna Quinn was going to stop helping people.
If there was one advantage to doing these patrols, it was that she could go out in her civilian clothing. Her old costume had been horrible. Purple to go along with her "royal" theme, and with a latex-like material that clung even tighter than a second skin. She'd been told it was bulletproof at least, but if that was the case, she didn't think it needed to show off quite so much skin.
No, this was definitely the way to go. An old, comfortable pair of sneakers, snug but not uncomfortable jeans, and a roomy turtleneck sweater. She still looked good. Every Gifted person tended to either look like models and celebrities, or wildly exotic with leafy green hair or scales, or downright monstrous with bodies of stone or shapes more animal than man. She was one of the normal looking ones, and she stuck to a workout and diet that made her look exceptionally nice. She looked ten years younger than her actual thirty-one years of age, and even with the glasses and simple blonde ponytail, the soft but striking lines of her face and her piercing eyes gave her an intimidating aura to even those who didn't know who she was.
She took out her phone and checked the city's online paper for the Heroes and Crimes section. She'd been doing this for a while now, and she felt it was past time someone noticed that crime in a two mile radius was at an all-time low. But no, nothing. Just stories of how Paragon had saved the city from aliens again and then a dozen articles on the newest outfits and wardrobe malfunctions.
Typical.
On her way back, she noticed something new. Where before there had been a greasy fast food place, there was now
Capes and Crepes.
The first thing she noticed was the bright pink curtains that had been hung up to frame the large windows. But the second thing she noticed was the absolutely hilarious drawings of Amazon and Steel Sentinel on the posters. They were highly stylized in the japanese manga/anime way, but rather than the full-plate and robot suits, each was wearing an adorable if highly inappropriate maid uniform.
Curiously, they'd gotten Steel Sentinel's--Mandy's--electric blue hair down correctly in the picture. The last time she'd checked, she was sure that most people weren't even sure the Sentinel was a female, let alone what color her hair was. She must have had the helmet damaged in a battle.
Anna's stomach grumbled. She wasn't sure what kind of cafe was open at two in the morning, but there was a sweet smell coming from the crack in the doors. And a cream filled crepe sounded amazing right now, the establishment's taste in decor notwithstanding.