Chapter Text
Lisa
The console beeped. “Gallant, checking in. Just reached the Boardwalk, nothing to report.”
I thumbed the button to respond. “This is console, heard. Have a nice walk.”
The desk thunked as my head hit it, my body slumping forwards. Another day, another nothing of a shift at console. Without Sophia around it was even more boring than usual. Watching her scrambling to try to hide her ultraviolence had been one of the few perks of probationary heroism.
Although... huh. Sophia might not like how it happened, but she got out. Maybe I could hit up the Artificer for something that would get Piggy to fire me as well. Something a little less humiliating or disruptive to my life once I’m free, but then, I haven’t earned the personal ire of the Artificer.
Eh. Worth a shot. A quick check with my power reminded me what the number was, and I pulled out my phone.
Lisa: Please tell me I can text this number.
603-555-0451: Yeah, you can. This is the Artificer, what can I do for you?
Lisa: Awesome. Hate actually calling. This is Know-It-All. You got Stalker out of the Wards. I want out too, and Piggy’ll hold onto me tighter than she did Stalker, ‘cause my power has the audacity to be useful.
603-555-0451: Why do you want out? Why not just be useful?
Lisa: Seriously? Does it matter, I’ll pay. Anyway, I notice you haven’t joined the Wards.
603-555-0451: Fair enough. Something to get Piggot to cut you from the Wards, without sending you to prison or anything like that. Any other specific requests?
Lisa: Leave me functional, no loss of skills or knowledge or shit like Stalker got.
603-555-0451: Got it. I’m sure I can come up with something.
Lisa: I should hope so. You seemed creative enough in cursing your bitch girlfriends.
603-555-0451: what
Lisa: Come on, tell me you’re not into them.
603-555-0451: You really like pissing people off, huh?
Lisa: It’s a hobby.
603-555-0451: Maybe you should start picking up some other hobbies.
---
I strolled into the Artificer’s office the next day, clad in my blue and white costume. She sat behind the desk, clad in way too much jewelry, and working on a gold hair pin in front of her, etching symbols into its surface.
“Welcome,” she said. The actual quality and sound of her voice was cut from my mind, leaving the words and the tone, the emotional quality, but completely unable to describe or identify her voice if I heard it again. It was a very annoying little trick, my power did not like it.
“Artificer,” I said, nodding to her. “You have something that’ll work for me?”
“I believe I do,” she answered, holding out a small bronze ring.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching out and taking the ring with one hand, sliding a wad of cash in the amount we’d agreed on across the desk with the other hand.
My power flicked on a moment too late. Taking the ring binds the magic to us. Putting it on is inevitable. Effects will be distasteful, Artificer is annoyed, does not like us. Monkey’s paw bargain.
“...What does it do?” I asked, hesitantly. I rolled the ring around in my palm. I could feel the pull of the magic, pushing me to slip it on, but I held back for a moment.
“Exactly what you asked for. It’ll make you unfit to continue as a Ward, in such a way Piggot won’t be able to justify keeping you on, but also won’t send you to prison.” The Artificer smiled. “And you’ll still be perfectly capable and functional, no loss of skills or memory.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That doesn’t answer the question.” The pull finally became too much, and I slipped the ring on. As it settled on my finger, I felt it resize to fit perfectly, and a blast of... something rolled through my body. A wave of ice-cold, like liquid lightning, snapping and twisting as it spread from my hands up over the rest of my body, and then faded in the span of a few moments.
In its wake, I felt strangely... relaxed. Calm and peaceful. The feeling seemed to suffuse my whole body, relaxing every muscle, and filling my mind with a pleasant fog, making thoughts seem quieter and more distant.
“There you go,” Artificer said. I thought of a few responses or questions or witty retorts I could say, but it felt better and more right to just wait and stay quiet. “Maybe that’ll help teach you how to behave.”
Internally, I fumed at her, but I still couldn’t really find the will to open my mouth and say anything. It was difficult for thoughts to form, and it was far too easy to just wait, still and silent.
“I wonder how it feels,” the Artificer continued. “Maybe I’ll ask sometime, but for now...” Her voice trailed off.
I sat, the calm fog suffusing my brain. For a moment, the idea of reaching across the desk and strangling her entered my mind, but it was quickly suffocated by the fog.
“Let’s try this:” the Artificer said. “Go back to your room and masturbate until someone finds you. Text me when you’re broken out of it.”
The order hit me like a truck, the Artificer’s words cutting through the fog in my mind and replacing it, filling my thoughts, looping over and over, pushing out everything else. Nothing existed but the command, and no response was possible except obedience.
I nodded, got up, and headed back to the Wards HQ. Entering my room, I made sure the door was closed. No lock for probationary Wards. Stripping my clothes off, I lay down on my bed and slowly started stroking around the lips of my pussy and circling around my clit. A glance at my phone revealed the time. Just after eleven in the morning. My next shift at console wasn’t until four pm. It would be a long while before anyone came looking for me.
Best to take it slow, keep up my endurance until then. I didn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, I’d typically found it distasteful before, but I had to. It wasn’t that the Artificer’s words were forcing me into this, or pulling strings to control me. It felt more as if...
There is a room with doors. Each door is an option, a possible path, a choice that might be made. I wasn’t forced or pushed or lured or coerced into this door, this non-choice that led to me naked on my bed trying to decide if I should augment my masturbation with whatever porn I could find that wouldn’t gross me out. It was more that with that one command, piercing through the fog and calm and stillness, all the other doors had simply... vanished.
These actions were still taken by me, of my own will, moved by my own command. What had been taken from me wasn’t control of my limbs or my mind, but my agency. My ability to make choices. I was doing all this myself, the Artificer’s order wasn’t forcing my fingers to dip into my cunt and fumble for what movement would bring me the most pleasure. It had simply removed every other option.
I was free to decide how I orgasmed away my day, but the concept of doing anything else no longer existed. I would be masturbating my day away, because no other choices were available.
For now, I decided against any kind of visual or video pornography, my power would run too wild with that, and it’d drain all the erotic energy from the room. I found a website with some written erotica, and a few stories that looked intriguing. No idea what my taste actually was, but these would probably work for now.
I read through the story, slowly exploring myself with the fingers of my other hand, massaging my tits, fingering my cunt, rubbing my clit, and gradually finding a good rhythm that my power suggested could maintain a pace that would keep up a good level of arousal for a few hours. It took forty minutes to bring myself to my first orgasm, an experience that left me gasping, my legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure.
I tapped into my power again. How can I do that again, as fast as possible this time? My power suggested a story, a bratty disobedient girl being broken in by mind control, and guided my fingers to just the right spot inside my pussy, just the right motion to hit my g-spot over and over, and the arousal quickly built back up, even higher than it had before.
I tumbled over the edge, letting out a few quiet moans as I came, the wave of lust carrying me down and washing my reservations out my cunt along with the rest of my mind. My arms quivered, my legs shook, my brain reeled as the pleasure overwhelmed me.
As I slowly put my thoughts back together - still consisting solely of the command I’d been given and how best to fulfill it - I let myself stop for a moment, feeling the residual energy quivering in my pussy and tingling in my nipples and clit. This actually felt really good.
Again.
---
“Know-It-All?” Clockblocker’s voice sounded outside my room. I paused, my fingers held just above my clit. I burned with the need to ignore him, go back to touching myself. I licked my lips, swept the sweat-soaked hair out of my face. A glance at my phone’s clock said I was eight minutes late for my shift.
I stayed silent. The Artificer had said I was to keep going until someone found me, but what exactly that meant was up to my interpretation, and Dennis didn’t know I was in here, so he hadn’t found me, yet. If he left, maybe I could finish just one more time-
“Lisa, you in there?” He asked again. The door beeped as he opened it, and I cursed, yanking my blanket up over me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, my voice croaking a little. “Gimme a minute, okay?”
Dennis blushed as the door opened and he saw me. My hair was a mess, I was covered in sweat, I held my phone and blanket in one hand, the other was still buried between my legs. My room probably stank of sex. Maybe it’d be fine, he might not - he definitely knows what we’ve been up to. Gee, thanks power, I definitely needed that confirmed.
Dennis quickly shifted his gaze downwards, awkwardly shuffling. “You’re uh,” he cleared his throat into his fist. “You’re late.”
Now that I’d been found, my mind cleared up almost completely for the first time since I’d put the ring on. All the doors were back. “I know,” I grumbled. “Seriously, get out and gimme a minute, ‘kay?”
“Sure,” Dennis said. “I’ll be around for another ten minutes or so. Uh,” he paused, and coughed again. “Shower’s empty right now.”
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He ducked out, the door sliding shut just before the pillow hit it.
Ugh. Maybe I could still finish anyways? But no, that... wasn’t an option. She’d said until I was found, and I’d been found. She never said I had to stop then, but... I guess it being up to how I interpreted it had drawbacks. I flipped over to the text messages on my phone, and sent the Artificer a brief message.
Lisa: Done.
That done, I tossed my phone aside and grabbed a towel, heading down the hall to take Dennis up on his “suggestion” of a shower. I certainly needed it.
The hot water was relaxing, running over all the sore muscles I’d earned after that solo sexual marathon. There was still a tiny bit of that unwanted cold relaxation from the ring, but a miniscule amount compared to when I’d first put it on.
What even happened? The Artificer made me... what, an obedience ring? Fucking bitch. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? At least my choices are my own again. Effects will return and develop. The Artificer is fond of long-term changes. Great.
So this sort of thing was going to keep happening. Fuck. I finished showering off, dried, dressed, and headed out to the common room.
“Hey, Lise,” Dennis said as I entered. “You uh, you good?”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “Ready to take over. Anything interesting up?”
“Nope,” Dennis answered, popping the ‘p’ in the word. “Been a boring morning so far.”
I took the seat in front of the console as Dennis vacated it. Sighing, I put my chin in my hand, elbow resting on the desk. “Can’t decide whether I’m hoping for a boring afternoon or an interesting one.”
“I know, right?” Dennis said. “Could use some action around here.”
“Yeah, well.” My hair swung a little as I swayed my head from side to side. “Quiet can be good too.”
“Well, have a good shift, however it turns out.” Dennis said, patting me on the shoulder as he turned to leave. Something felt odd about the touch, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what, and according to my power there was no monkey business.
The door slid shut, leaving the Ward’s common room empty save for me. The dregs of that mind-blanking calm still floated around in my system, leaving me actually feeling better than I usually did at the start of a shift. It made it easy to settle in and focus on the work.
My phone beeped about an hour into the shift. I absently checked, glancing at the texts I’d left open with the Artificer.
Artificer: Good girl
A shudder ran through me at that, my whole body vibrating with pleasure for a single instant, as if someone had just reached out and plucked a string on my soul that said euphoria.
Lisa: I- you- the fuck was that?
Artificer: Doesn’t matter, does it? You don’t want to worry about it anyway.
I did want to worry about it. It definitely seemed worth worrying about, didn’t it? ...Right?
Oh. Huh. No, it didn’t really. The doors hadn’t disappeared, I still had all the same choices. I could hold on to my earlier rational thoughts and worry the fuck about it. But that door was small and pushed to the side, and the door for not giving a shit was massive and lit with neon.
I took it. If the Artificer wanted to make me feel bliss like that, why bother questioning it?
Artificer: So, whatcha up to?
Lisa: Console duty. Boring so far. You’re fucking with me somehow. Feels like I should be more annoyed at you for this.
Artificer: Maybe, but you’re not, are you?
Lisa: Somehow, no.
Artificer: Shows you know what’s good for you.
Lisa: And what’s that?
Artificer: Listening to your betters.
Artificer: I assume since you’re capable of coherent speech that the obedience compulsion isn’t active right now?
Lisa: There’s definitely something I feel, but no, it isn’t nearly as strong as it was in your office.
Artificer: Good, I’ve been wanting to test this. When does your shift end?
Lisa: About four hours.
Artificer: Abandon it. Get up, walk to 116 Washington. Wait there for further instructions.
My mind immediately grabbed hold of the suggestion. Again, it wasn’t a compulsion, as it had been earlier. More as if the Artificer had just given me a really, really, good idea, and I had to put a little effort in to remember why I probably shouldn’t.
Lisa: Do you really expect me to just... do that?
Artificer: Honestly? Yes. I have no idea how long it’ll take, but eventually you’ll give in. Even without the obedience compulsion, the magic won’t let you disobey a direct order. But since I have no idea when you’ll give in
Artificer: Text me when you get there.
I felt my mind grabbing that order too, adding it onto the first one. It would all be so much easier to just do what I’m told. Everything could be so simple. No more agonizing over decisions or wasting my power trying to find the best option. Just listen and obey, and put all my energy towards doing the best job I could at whatever task I was given.
I instinctively rebelled against the idea, my mind fighting itself as I placed my hands on the desk and stood. I turned to walk out, obeying the Artificer’s orders against my better judgment, when the comms buzzed.
“Aegis, checking in. Just sighted Oni Lee hanging around Market Street. No sign of criminal activity, but seems like he could be planning something.”
I stopped in my tracks. My options were still open. I could sit back down and do my job. I would, just to spite her. Spiting the Artificer doesn’t seem like a good idea. Oh, shut your fuck, stupid power.
“Console, I copy. Alerting the Protectorate, further orders incoming.”
Fuck her, I could do this.
---
Exactly 78 minutes later - I know, I checked the time precisely, just to know for myself - I stopped walking in front of 116 Washington St. It was a short ten minute walk from the PRT building, and the walk had been kind of nice. The few moments I’d let myself forget why I was doing this, it’d actually been quite enjoyable. The weather was nice for the time of year, the streets weren’t too crowded for a Friday afternoon.
My mind easily slipped into a little flow state, focused on nothing except the instructions I’d been given and putting one foot in front of the other to accomplish them. It’d almost been relaxing. But each time, I’d remember why I was doing this, whose instructions I was following, and start panicking a little.
I’d tried twice to turn around and go back to the Ward’s HQ. The first time was just a block away from the building, and I made it all the way to the doors of the PRT building when I stopped. I didn’t... I didn’t want to go back. I could, I knew I could. My choices were my own.
And I chose to obey. It was so much easier, felt so much better to just do what I was told. Making my own decisions, choosing for myself was anxiety-inducing, stressful, and difficult.
Plus, I really wanted to hear the Artificer call me a good girl again. Ideally, in person.
The second time I’d tried to turn back had been just before my destination. I made it precisely three steps back before my brief burst of agency deserted me, and I turned back around, wondering why I would even bother with disobeying.
116 Washington Street was a small strip mall, just outside of what could really be considered ‘downtown’. There was some dying Chinese restaurant, a jewelry store, a tire shop, and a FedEx, as well as a couple other businesses I couldn’t identify the nature of from just the name.
I pulled my phone out and texted the Artificer.
Lisa: Here.
I made sure the ringer was on and slipped my phone back into my pocket. I’m to wait here for further instructions. Idly, I wondered how long that might take, and then wondered about how little I cared what the answer might be. If I had to wait here for a minute or an hour, it... didn’t really matter.
My phone beeped a moment later.
Artificer: Thank you. Answer the call.
Before I had time to wonder what she meant or decide whether I really wanted to obey this order as well, my phone rang. I answered.
The Artificer’s voice sounded from the other end. “Good girl.”
My whole being shook. A massive clawed hand reaching out and plucking a chord in my soul that sang bliss and euphoria and pleasure. I almost came from just the feel of it. It overwhelmed every thought in my brain, leaving me shaking and speechless.
I gathered my senses again a moment later, and realized that the Artificer had hung up. She’d called just so I could hear her saying that.
Lisa: I... that was... holy fuck
Artificer: That good, huh?
Lisa: Yeah, that uh. No words. I have no words for that.
Artificer: You want to feel it again?
Lisa: G-d yes.
Artificer: Kneel.
I quickly did, not giving half a thought to the scattered people around or the rough concrete of the sidewalk scraping under my knees.
Artificer: Take a photo of yourself. I assume your phone has a camera?
Lisa: Yes, it does.
Artificer: Good.
I opened the camera application, holding my phone in front and above me, to get a good angle looking down at me. The shutter clicked. One photo of me, in costume, mask still hiding my face, kneeling on the ground outside a shitty strip mall.
Artificer: Send it to me.
I hesitated a moment, then did as I was asked.
Lisa: [Image Attached]
I almost started to regret it, wondering why I gave in so easily.
Artificer: Good girl.
That thrum of bliss and pleasure sang through me again, and I immediately stopped wondering why I obeyed. It felt good, that’s why.
Artificer: All done, you can go about your day. Don’t go back to the Ward HQ until your shift is set to end. Text me when you feel the obedience compulsion starting up again. Other than that, do as you please until then.
Lisa: Right, okay. Will do, I guess
Well. I guess I’ve got like two and a half hours to kill.
---
I tried, twice, to head back to my room and change into my civilian clothes, but failed both times. My room was inside the Wards HQ, and I couldn’t go back there. I didn’t want to, couldn’t make myself want to.
So I ate at the little Chinese place that was right there. Decent enough food. Some people stared at me, the costume tended to draw attention, but I’d never been one of the more popular Wards, so it was mostly just staring.
As I was getting up to leave, I felt that same wave of ice-cold liquid lightning hit me. I stopped in my tracks, halfway to the door, the feeling of motionless energy zapping every muscle in my body, brushing aside my thoughts and leaving me calm and relaxed.
I pulled out my phone and texted the Artificer. I didn’t think about it, thoughts weren’t really possible in this state. I had orders. I followed them.
Lisa: I obey.
Then I just waited. One of the waitstaff got annoyed with me just standing motionless in the middle of the restaurant and told me to order something else or get out. My mind accepted the orders just the same as the Artificer’s commands, and I took the simpler of the two options. I walked out of the restaurant.
I followed the strip mall to the end of the row, where there was a small alley next to the tire shop, and ducked into it. My phone rang, and I answered it.
“Good girl,” the Artificer’s odd non-voice whispered down the line.
My soul hummed, my body sang, and my mind drifted away, my thoughts obliterated by tidal waves of bliss.
“I’m going to have fun with you,” the Artificer chuckled to herself. It wasn’t a question or an order, so I couldn’t respond, just remaining silent. “The obedience compulsion is active?”
This was a question, so I answered, simply and truthfully. “I obey.”
“Good. Now, you’re going to forget everything, from now until you’re finished completing every order you’re given. Understand?” The Artificer asked.
“Yes,” I said, my voice strangely calm. I didn’t want to forget things, I hated forgetting anything. I would resist this time, I could, and I was going to. I put all the effort I could muster into holding on to my memories, not letting them slip away.
“Good,” the Artificer said. “Then -
---
My pillow was wet. I’d been drooling on it. I rolled over, pulling the blankets back up to ward off the relentless air conditioning keeping the building exactly three degrees below where I’d be comfortable.
Then the rest of my mind caught up to me, and I shot up, wide awake. Fuck! I’d missed... something! I couldn’t remember anything since that phone call with the Artificer last night. I checked the time on my phone. Seven thirty-eight AM. The entirety of yesterday’s late afternoon and evening was a complete blank.
“Fuck,” I let the word out in a breath. What the fuck happened?
Glitter on our pillowcase and clothes. Headache, bad taste in mouth. No shower or normal bedtime routine last night. Got home late, probably inebriated or high. Mild soreness in our leg muscles, more extended use than typical for us. A night out, one of the less reputable clubs that doesn’t card. I glanced at my costume, hanging on a peg on the wall. Half of a lipstick stain was just visible on the left side of the neck. A night out, in costume.
“Fuck,” I repeated. I quickly showered and dressed, opting for civilian wear this morning, leaving my costume hanging where it was.
I briefly checked my text and call history. A couple missed calls from Aegis and Miss Militia. No texts I’d forgotten, with anyone. One call. About an hour after she set me to forget, there’d been a five minute, twenty-seven second call from the Artificer. No idea what might have been in it.
Are my choices my own? Were there any lingering suggestions or orders influencing my actions? I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t be sure. If she could erase my entire evening like that, she could definitely hide a suggestion or something. My power was no help here, either. Annoying.
I still felt that background quiet calm tingling throughout my body, but it was easily ignorable, not the overwhelming force the Artificer referred to so clinically as the ‘obedience compulsion’. Instead it was just a tiny lingering presence. Or relatively tiny, anyways. It felt good, a cool peacefulness. It made it just a little harder for me to speak up or do things without being told, but not so much as to stop me in my tracks.
Grabbing my phone and bag I headed outside and down the street to the little mom and pop café I liked. It was run by an older Mexican couple, and they made actually good Mexican pastries, which was too rare a thing to find in New England.
I ordered, sat down, and tried to feel normal while I ate breakfast. It’s fine that I can’t remember going out dancing last night, don’t think about how many people might’ve seen me or what could’ve ended up online. If I don’t think about it, I can pretend it didn’t happen.
I’d just finished off my concha and was nursing the remains of my coffee when Carlos, Dean, and Missy came in. I’d shown the rest of the Wards this place when I found it, and it’d quickly become a favorite for our little group of teen heroes. They spotted me, and after placing their own orders, came over and sat down at my table.
“Morning, Lisa,” Dean said as he sat down.
“Morning,” I answered, trying to hide my annoyance at the unexpected company behind another sip of coffee.
“Are you doing alright?” Missy asked.
“Eh, I’m okay,” I shrugged. “A little tired, but that’s what the coffee’s for, yeah?”
Carlos frowned. “What happened last night?” He asked, his voice deceptively calm.
Fuck. This isn’t a friendly social interaction, it’s an intervention. Yeah, yeah, I can see that! Give me something useful! None of them suspect the truth, Missy is hiding something, Dean broke up with Victoria again and is uncomfortable being himself, Carlos just realized he’s crushing on Dennis. I.. well, fine, I might be able to use something there.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I said, giving Carlos my best innocent smile.
Carlos narrowed his eyes at me. “You were AFK. You were supposed to be playing support for our raid last night.”
I rolled my eyes at the stupid terms. Dennis’ idea, using MMO language to talk about Wards-related things while out of costume. Everyone else apparently thought it worked great, but I still thought it all sounded too silly.
“You weren’t there,” Dean said. “We just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said, taking another sip of coffee. Missy’s gaze caught on my ring, and her eyes widened fractionally. Shit. We’re made.
“Lisa,” Missy said slowly. “Where did you get that ring? I’ve never seen you wearing it before.” Carlos and Dean followed her stare and their faces grew wary as they realized what Missy was implying.
“Some place on the Boardwalk, doesn’t matter,” I answered, too quickly. Hate that Dean’s here, this would be so much easier to hide without having to deal with his power. Damn thinkers.
“Tell us the truth,” Dean said.
The direct order slotted snugly into the forefront of my mind, snatching my thoughts back to itself every time I tried to pull them away. I tensed, took a sip of coffee and bit my tongue, holding on to stubborn resistance as long as I could. The other Wards just waited. Maybe there was a chance I could out-wait them, and I wouldn’t have to - my thoughts stuttered, yanked back to the order. Tell them the truth.
I sighed. “The Artificer made it.”
They tensed as I confirmed their suspicions. “What does it do?” Missy asked.
“None of your damn business,” I snapped at her.
“Answer the question,” Carlos said, slipping into his “team leader giving commands” voice, and damnit, that’s another direct order.
“It strips my agency,” I answered, slumping back into my seat. “I can’t disobey any direct order I’m given.” I sighed, and took a sip of coffee. Might as well put it all on the table, since I just told them how to get it out of me anyway. “And a couple times I’ve slipped into a state where I can’t do anything but obey, can’t make any choices or thoughts for myself, only do what I’m told.”
“And that’s what was up last night?” Dean asked.
I nodded. “The Artificer ordered me to abandon my shift, and while I was out that... she calls it an ‘obedience compulsion’.” I laughed, one loud bark. “Ha! That’s not half what it feels like. It’s...” My voice trailed off as I tried to figure out how to put the feeling into words. “An emptying of ‘self’. A total suppression of everything that separates a ‘person’ from a ‘tool’. It’s an unrestrained embrace from the platonic embodiment of Stillness.”
The others sat for a moment, staring at me in quiet horror as they processed that.
“Anyway, while I was out, the Stillness hit, and she’d ordered me to let her know when it did. She called me and ordered me to forget whatever I did until I was finished with the orders I was given and... I woke up this morning.”
“So you genuinely have no idea what you did last night?” Carlos asked.
“Do you think she’s using you for some scheme or something?” Missy asked. “Making you a mole in the heroes?”
“My power tells me I went out clubbing,” I answered. “But no, I have no memories. From about seven-fifteen yesterday evening to waking up this morning.”
Carlos froze halfway to asking another question, processing the entirely unexpected response. Dean got up as one of the servers behind the counter called his name, walking away to go pick up their order.
Missy stared at me, her brow creased with worry. “Please tell me you’re alright,” she said.
“I’m alright,” I responded automatically to the order, then groaned and shook my head. “Except scratch that, fuck you, I’m very much not alright.”
Missy frowned, then let out a small gasp and clamped her hands over her mouth as she realized what had just happened. “Shit,” she swore, then pulled her hands down and held them tight against her chest, “I’m sorry Lisa, I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry I wasn’t -”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted her, waving a hand to cut her off. “Just like, think through what you’re saying first, yeah? And to answer your question,” I paused as Dean sat back down, handing the others their drinks and pastries, then continued. “No, I am very much not alright. I hate that I can’t remember last night, I’m freaking out a bit over how I’m definitely not freaking out about all of this as much as I should be, and I’m just now processing that it’s not just the Artificer’s orders I’m compelled to obey.”
Carlos took a sip from his horchata and a bite of empanada, then pointed a finger at me. “So you’re compelled to obey direct orders from like, anyone? Even villains?”
I felt my mind seized at the question, a clawed hand grabbing hold of my thoughts and directing me to the whims of an unremembered order. I sat up straighter, smiled brightly, and my mouth opened, words tumbling out. “Of course!” I said against my will, my voice sounding bright and peppy. “I live to serve.”
As soon as the sentence finished, my body returned to my own control and I flinched back, instinctively hiding my face behind my hands. The other three at the table flinched back a little as well, Missy seeming horrified, Dean looking shocked, and Carlos giving me a frown.
“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out. “That’s creepy.”
“Try feeling it from this side,” I muttered, lowering my hands and taking another sip of coffee, hoping for something to steady my nerves.
“No thanks,” Dean said. “I’m good.”
“That’s really horrifying,” Missy said, her voice a little shell-shocked.
“Is it?” I asked. “I honestly can’t tell. I haven’t really been able to freak about this, all my feelings are a bit... screwy since I put the ring on.”
“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “I can see that.”
“I think we’d better get back to HQ,” Carlos said. “We need to tell Armsmaster and the Director about this.”
---
“Sit there and wait,” Carlos said, gesturing to one of the chairs at the big conference room table.
My mind grabbed the order the same as it had every command lately, emphasizing it and nudging me towards it. Not like I would’ve done anything else this time. I glanced at Carlos as I sat down. Doesn’t notice he’s doing it, isn’t thinking about that. This was the third or fourth direct order he’d accidentally given me since we left the cafe.
“You know,” I said slowly, seeing an opportunity to needle him a bit. “You seem disturbingly comfortable with this whole ‘Please give me orders, I live to serve’ bullshit.”
Carlos flushed, stammering a little. “I didn’t- that wasn’t- I’m just in team leader mode, alright?”
“No, no,” I said, waving his protests off. “Please, keep going, it feels good! Kinda... hot and tingly in all the right places.”
He caught that I was messing with him at that, flipping me off as he walked out of the room. I smiled, settling back in the chair to wait. I did have to, as much as I was having fun messing with him, it was still a direct order he hadn’t rescinded. I pulled my phone out, shooting off a quick text to the Artificer.
Lisa: Aegis, Gallant, and Vista know about my ring now. The rest of the Wards, Protectorate, and PRT will too, soon.
She responded quickly.
Artificer: That’s fine. Tell them if they lock you up or quarantine you, they’ll have to deal with me. And the break conditions for yours and Miss Militia’s curses are still available to purchase. Relay that message for me, would you darling?
Lisa: Will do.
Miss Militia’s curse, huh? Small blue ring on her right hand. Magic effect makes the ring and its effects seem normal and unremarkable. Interesting. If I time it right, that piece of info could give me a good reaction.
Aegis re-entered the room then, in costume. Gallant followed, Kid Win, Vista, and Clockblocker trailing in afterwards. They all took seats around the table, close to where I sat at one end. Armsmaster and Director Piggot entered, taking a seat at the other end of the table.
Director Piggot leveled a displeased stare at me. “Explain.” She said.
I shifted uncomfortably as it suddenly became an effort not to babble about everything that had happened. “Well, firstly, you should know that the Artificer told me to tell you, and I quote, ‘if you lock me up or quarantine me, you’ll have to deal with her’,” I bit my tongue, holding back the rest of what I’d been told to relay.
Piggot frowned, her expression moving from ‘displeased’ to ‘angry’. Aegis held up a hand to silence me. Yeeeaahh, I can interpret that as a direct order.
“Wait a moment,” he ordered, and ooh yes, that’s definitely a direct order. “Let me make my report.”
Aegis began to explain what I’d told him and the others at the cafe this morning while I explored the weird feeling of conflicting orders. Piggot had told me to explain, Artificer ordered me to relay a message - only half of which I’d shared - and Aegis had told me to wait.
It felt a little odd, half like I was sorting through and deciding how to resolve the conflict and half like it was being decided for me. And the whole time, there was this uncomfortable prickling under my skin, the urge to obey one or all of the orders I had.
Obviously, Aegis’ ‘wait’ didn’t really conflict, it just took priority. I could still obey the others after he was finished. But which came first after, ‘explain’ or ‘relay’? I wanted to try to save the other half of the Artificer’s message for the right moment, but I felt like I had to get it sorted now, or it wouldn’t sit right. Hopefully, Aegis’ report would count as enough explanation and I could get Piggot to rescind her order, especially if I launched into a repetitive explanation as soon as he finished.
Would that work? Could an order be taken back? Guess I’ll find out. Aegis finished his report, finally. Cool, I waited. That order was done, and I could finally relieve the pressure of the other orders on my brain.
“Yeah, so, my ring makes me obey, makes it harder to make decisions for myself. Yesterday, the Artificer -”
Armsmaster cut me off. “Aegis just explained that in his report. Do you have anything new to add?”
“Maybe,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “But sir, the Director ordered me to explain. I can’t ignore that just because someone else already did. The magic won’t let me.”
“You don’t have to explain anything,” Piggot said, sighing. “Unless it’s something Aegis got wrong or hasn’t mentioned.”
I felt a weight lift as the order shifted. “Thank you, Director,” I said, relaxing a little.
“I’m curious how you got the ring,” Piggot said. “Aegis didn’t mention that.”
I tensed again, suddenly. “I, uh, I don’t know if that’s relevant, really it’s -”
“Tell us.” Armsmaster said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
The order settled into me alongside the others I still had to fulfill and I didn’t have the energy to resist anymore. I sighed, and tried to turn my thoughts off and settle into the flow of following orders. “The Artificer gave it to me. I asked her for a curse that would get me cut from the Wards the way Stalker was, but that would leave me functional with no loss of skills or memory the way she got.”
“You asked for this?” Vista asked, seeming shocked.
“No, very much not,” I answered. “But I didn’t specify exactly what effects I wanted, and... I pissed her off. Put my foot in my mouth the way I always do.”
The room sat with that for a moment, expressions of surprise and displeasure showing all around.
“And the Artificer also asked me to tell you that the breaking conditions for both my curse and Miss Militia’s are still for sale if we ask.”
“Miss Militia’s curse?” Armsmaster asked.
I shrugged. “My power confirms it. Small blue ring.”
“I think I’ve noticed her wearing that,” Clockblocker said. “That’s not a curse though, is it? Someone would’ve noticed.”
A few other people responded, the conversation spinning away from me, and I slumped a little with relief. That was enough, those orders counted as fulfilled. I felt a stirring in my soul, somewhere in the depths of my being.
“Oh,” I said softly, interrupting the Director. “I think you’re about to see the -” The Still lightning flashed through me and I froze instantly, all autonomous thoughts and actions cut off. The ice-cold energy blasted through my whole body, freezing and relaxing my muscles, flashing into my mind and twisting something. Lisa just waited, orders were the only thing that mattered for her.
Gallant glanced at her and suddenly jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over. Lisa didn’t react, she couldn’t, but everyone else in the room started and stared at him.
“Gallant?” Armsmaster asked, prompting him.
“Sorry sir,” Gallant said, righting his chair. “She uh...” he trailed off, staring at Lisa. “I’m not getting anything from her. I’ve seen more emotion from coma patients.”
“Lisa?” Vista asked hesitantly. “Is this the... Stillness you were talking about?”
“Yes,” Lisa responded, her voice somehow both calm and pleasant while also being flat and... empty. Missing some fundamental aspect of self. “Lisa lives to serve.”
“Creepy,” Kid Win muttered, staring sideways at her.
“Right,” Armsmaster said, nodding. “Know-It-All. You are incapable of autonomy currently?”
The question cut through the calm fog filling her mind, becoming everything, just as an order would. “Yes,” she answered. “She does not think or choose for herself. She merely obeys.”
“Why are you talking about yourself in third person?” Aegis asked.
“She doesn’t know,” Lisa answered, tilting her head to one side. The movement felt smooth and mechanical, and a far distance from the more human motions she usually used. “This is new. Lisa didn’t talk like this last time, as best she can remember. She thinks... even if ordered, she could no longer speak or think of herself as ‘I’.” Just saying the word ‘I’, even disconnected from referring to herself, hurt in a way that was almost physical.
“And like this,” Armsmaster said, “You’ll obey any order or command you’re given? By anyone?”
“Of course! Lisa lives to serve,” Lisa answered automatically, then continued. “She cannot disobey at any time, but in this state, resistance is not possible for her, nor are independent thought or action. She obeys, instantly, and without hesitation or discrimination.”
“Then for the time being,” Armsmaster said. “You are confined to the Ward’s HQ until further notice.”
The order slipped in and burned itself into her, filling the background of her mind and being. She got up, rising from the chair and striding gracefully towards the exit.
“Stop,” Piggot ordered, and she halted immediately. “Where are you going? You weren’t told to leave.”
Lisa turned back, a slight confused expression on her face. “Armsmaster restricted Lisa to the Ward’s HQ. This room is not in the Ward’s HQ, this is the PRT.”
“Is there anything important you haven’t told us?” Armsmaster asked.
“No,” Lisa answered.
“Then you can go,” Director Piggot said.
Lisa left and walked back downstairs to her room in the Ward’s headquarters. Taking a seat on the bed, she pulled her phone out, checking to see if she had any new messages that might contain further orders.
Vista (2): Really sorry about all this, Lisa. Sounds like it sucks.
Kid Win (1): So you’ll really obey any order?
Artificer (1): How’d it go?
Missy’s message wasn’t a question or order, so she ignored it. Opening the message from Kid Win, she fired off her pre-programmed response to that question.
Lisa: Of course! Lisa lives to serve.
Then she swapped over to messages with the Artificer.
Lisa: Better and worse than it could’ve been. Know-It-All is still a Ward, Piggot hasn’t seen fit to fire her. She’s been ordered to remain in the Ward’s HQ until further notice.
Artificer: Ah, the third-person programming has kicked in. Lol.
Lisa let the phone fall. She had no orders remaining. Nothing to do. No ability to think. No need to think. She waited to see if more orders would be coming. None did. Time passed.
After some time - she couldn’t say how much - she felt her mind loosen just a bit. The Stillness, the calm fog that filled her mind and swallowed self and autonomy was still there, but with no orders to follow, and none apparently coming, she needed to direct her service herself.
She got up, looking around her room. This one last. Optimal order of operations: common room first, serves everyone at once. Kid Win expressed interest in our service, his next. Then Aegis, as team leader. Clockblocker’s will take longer than Gallant’s, so his, then Dean’s. Vista seemed highly uncomfortable with our obedience, so hers last before our own. Tidy first, then take care of sweeping and laundry.
Lisa got up, heading into the common area. There wasn’t a ton to tidy up here, but she did what was needed, collecting bits of trash, and straightening some of the supplies that had places out here. She decided to sweep the common room before moving on to the individual rooms.
She continued cleaning for the better part of an hour, making it through the common room, Kid Win’s room, Aegis’, and she was halfway through Clockblocker’s when the Stillness finally faded. She thought she might be able to stop then, but no, the task was decided on, and it wanted to be finished. She wanted to finish it.
Wait, why is Lisa thinking in third person? Why can’t she think of herself as- as ‘I’? Lisa flinched as a wave of pain shot through her at the pronoun, wracking her body from head to toe. “Ah, okay, okay, she gets it. No first person pronouns.” Curse is continuing to progress. Alteration of self-perception won’t end here. Great.
She sighed, getting back to cleaning. How did Dennis even manage to make his room this messy? The guy had his own home he slept in most nights, barely stayed here once a week. And yet somehow, his room had enough mess for three guys who never left the place.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to check the messages. It was the messages with Vista she’d ignored while she’d been Still earlier.
Vista: If you ever need help with anything, you can ask me, okay?
Vista: Really sorry about all this, Lisa. Sounds like it sucks.
Vista: Meeting’s over, Dennis is on his way down to man the console, the rest of us are heading home or out to patrol. They haven’t decided what to do with you, at least as far as they told us. Wasn’t sure if anyone would tell you so.
Lisa: Thanks for the update, kiddo.
Lisa: Oh, btw, while Lisa’s got you here, how often do you sleep in your room here in the building?
Vista: About two or thee times a week, why?
Lisa: Trying to decide if sheets need washed or if that’d take more time than it’s worth.
Vista: Are you... cleaning?
Lisa: Yes, she is. It’s not like she has anything else to do.
Lisa paused, and after a moment of thought, added:
Lisa: And it feels right.
Lisa: Don’t ask her what that means, she doesn’t know.
Lisa: Gonna go, gotta finish cleaning Dennis’ room before he comes down.
Vista: Good luck, I guess?
Lisa slipped her phone away and buckled down. She finished tidying before too long, and was most of the way through sweeping when Dennis entered.
“Know-It-All?” he asked, staring at her in confusion. She blinked and looked up, feigning innocence.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Serving,” Lisa answered without thinking, then internally cursed at herself. That hadn’t even been an order she’d forgotten or some kind of programming, just a slip of the tongue.
“You’re... cleaning my room?”
“Not just yours,” Lisa said, rolling her eyes at him. “So hurry up and get whatever you need so she can finish and get on with the rest.”
“I...” Dennis stared at her, frozen in place for a second, before his brain seemed to reboot. “Okay!” He said, a little too chipper, before ducking in, grabbing his costume, and hurriedly departing, presumably for the showers where he could change.
Lisa finished up sweeping his room and got into a pleasant rhythm with the tasks. Two hours later, she was completely finished with everyone’s rooms, and was sitting on the couch in the common room, folding the last of six baskets of laundry when her phone buzzed.
Kid Win: Still creepy. Whatever, I need you to help me prank Dennis.
Lisa: You need what?
Kid Win: He started a prank war last week, and I’m losing, miserably. I’ve got nothing!
Lisa: So you want Lisa to help you, what? Brainstorm ideas?
Kid Win: Yeah, something like that.
Lisa: She’ll try, but she’s never really done ‘pranking’. She generally tends towards the wrong side of the line between friendly and cruel.
Lisa: Hm. She knows Carlos is crushing on him. Is that anything?
Kid Win: Wait, he is?
Kid Win: Wait, Carlos is gay?
Kid Win: Wait, never mind, that’s, like, outing him. You never told me that.
Lisa grimaced as her mind snatched the order and she felt herself beginning to struggle with cognitive dissonance. It felt awful, both the feeling of her mind struggling to convince herself of an obvious untruth, and the certainty that she’d fucked up.
Wait, the “certainty that she’d fucked up”? Lisa hadn’t disobeyed, she was trying to do as she was ordered! Why did it matter? We live to serve. Service is more than obedience. The fuck does that mean? Our aims should be to please our betters. Aegis holds a position of authority over us. Even now, we serve without having been ordered. You know what? No. Fuck this line of thought.
Lisa: Wow, that’s a new one. The feeling of being ordered to edit my own memories while actually lucid is...
Her fingers stalled over the keyboard. She wanted to describe exactly how unpleasant it felt, rip into Kid for not thinking before giving her an order like that, but. She couldn’t? Her power was right, something had shifted and she needed, even without being ordered, to aim to please, or at the very least, to avoid causing intentional displeasure. That door she used to use so often, needling her teammates and digging into insecurities, had vanished from her room of choices.
Lisa: Wow, that’s a new one. The feeling of being ordered to edit my own memories while actually lucid is... definitely interesting.
Kid Win: What?
Kid Win: Oh shit.
Kid Win: You don’t have to do that, you did send it, just. Don’t tell anyone else, yeah? That’s Carlos’ secret to reveal when he’s ready.
Lisa’s mind relaxed as she finally stopped trying to gaslight herself. She slumped forward a little with relief, even as she felt the door she’d used to tattle about Carlos’ crush gently vanishing into the background.
Kid Win: So this is like. Really real, huh? You’re not just messing with us?
Lisa: Yes, it’s really real, you-! Lisa just finished cleaning the entire HQ and doing all your laundry because she’s fucking magically compelled to serve! It’s not a bit, she’s not messing with you.
Lisa: She obeys every order she is given. She has to. So like. Please. Try to consider whether you’re phrasing things as an order when you don’t mean to?
Dammit, Lisa cursed silently to herself. That was the closest she could come to forcefully chewing him out. This was so going to fuck her up.
Kid Win: Right, I’ll try. Sorry, Know-It-All.
Kid Win: You can forget the whole prank thing, if you want. I’m sure I’ll come up with something.
Lisa: You could get him an Artificer special.
She closed her phone, tossing it onto the couch beside her. She’d wanted to turn it off completely, but doing so might prevent her from seeing new orders and she... couldn’t. She needed to serve. She tried to slip back into the flow of tasks, of quiet service, finishing up folding the basket of her laundry.
Lisa didn’t really succeed at her first conscious attempt for Stillness. As she folded the laundry and dutifully returned it all to the dressers in everyone’s rooms, her thoughts wandered.
It was surprising, how quickly thinking and speaking without being allowed to use first person pronouns made her feel less like a person. It was easier and easier to slip into the service the curse kept pushing her towards. She’d felt... diminished, talking to people like Kid Win, Vista, or Clockblocker. She was already finding it difficult to think of herself as a person, the same way they were, even if she hadn’t admitted it consciously to herself. Yet. Oh shut your fuck, stupid power.
Lisa finished putting the laundry away, and finally, her tasks were done. The evening was hers again. She headed back to the common room, intending to lounge on one of the couches and do nothing but waste time. As she entered though, she paused by where Clockblocker sat at the console.
“Is there anything Lisa can get for you?” The words were out of her mouth before she really had the chance to stop them.
Dennis glanced up at her. “Uh,” he nervously flicked his gaze back to the computer screen. “No, uh. Nah, I’m good. Thanks anyway, Lisa.” He’s lying. He does want something, he just doesn’t want to ask us.
“Dennis,” she said, her tone as sharp as she could make it - which was barely anything compared to two days ago. “Lisa can tell when you’re lying. Just ask, please. She -” Lisa sighed, placing a hand on the desk and leaning to one side. “She wants to serve, it... feels right. Or good. Whatever, she doesn’t even know what she means.”
“Seriously?” Dennis asked, looking up at her in disbelief. “You genuinely want to be treated like a... a servant?”
Lisa sighed again. “It’s complicated, Dennis. Because of course, everything has to be. So forget what she wants. Right now though, yeah, it would make Lisa happy if you let her make you happier.”
Dennis frowned at the console screen for a moment, then slumped back dramatically, letting the force of his motion push the rolling chair away from the desk by a few inches. “This is fucking weird,” he said.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Tell her about it.”
He shrugged. “Fine. Would you mind fixing me some coffee then? I’d appreciate it.”
Lisa winked and shot him a pair of finger guns, doing her best to put him at ease. “She’ll be right back with that.” She turned to head for the small kitchen area when Dennis reached out and gently grabbed her wrist.
She froze. She’d noticed yesterday, something felt odd about being touched but hadn’t been able to place what. Today the feeling was stronger. It felt as if Dennis’ hand was... heavier? More solid? More real than us. He’s a real person, we aren’t anymore. Lisa shuddered.
Dennis let go immediately, pulling his hand back. “Sorry,” he said, quickly. “I didn’t mean to...” he trailed off. “It’s just, are you sure you’re okay with this, Lisa? A week ago, you’d have bit my nose off for asking you to make me coffee.”
Lisa swallowed, gripping her arms to her sides. “Yeah, like she said, it’s fine it’s... let her go get you that.” She hurriedly stepped out of the room into the small kitchenette off to the side of the common area.
She busied herself fixing the coffee, welcoming the distraction for a few moments. She knew they were actually a fairly even match physically - the Wards’ weekly sparring practice had proven that - but it had felt as though her arm might shatter under the weight, the reality, of Dennis’ grip. As if she were made of nothing more than porcelain.
She rubbed anxiously at her forearms, shuddering again. Did her skin feel smoother, harder, more fragile? Was that just her imagination? No physical changes are occurring; all these sensations are purely psychological. The Artificer is much weaker at creating changes outside the realm of the mind. Okay, good. So she wasn’t going to shatter into a million pieces if she tripped and fell.
Still, now that her attention had been brought to it, she couldn’t ignore the myriad sensations that all spoke of fragility. The way her skin felt smoother and less flexible, with less give. Not solid or hard, but brittle. The way everything else - not just people - felt just a bit more solid in comparison. The sneaking suspicion that she was becoming hollow on the inside.
She knew they were all false sensations, just hallucinations caused by the curse, but that didn’t make it feel any less real. Or make Lisa feel any more real. She started as the coffeemaker beeped at her to let her know it’d finished brewing. Grabbing a pair of mugs, she poured out a cup for Dennis and then, after a moment’s consideration, one for herself. She could feel as she did so that she was moving with exaggerated care, but she couldn’t help it.
With careful steps, she carried both mugs back into the common room, setting one down next to Dennis at the console, and leaning back against the desk. She held her coffee gently, just enjoying the warmth of it spreading through her hands. That cold relaxation was still present, as it always was now, even when she wasn’t Still.
“Thanks,” Dennis said absently, taking a sip from the coffee.
“You’re welcome,” Lisa responded, sipping from her own mug before placing it on the desk behind her. She sighed. “Sorry for reacting the way Lisa did when you grabbed her. She just... wasn’t expecting it. She feels... fragile.”
“Anyone would be a bit unstable going through what she is,” Clockblocker responded absentmindedly. Lisa smiled a little noticing that he’d used the third-person pronoun for her; ‘she’ rather than ‘you’. It felt better.
“No, dumbass,” Lisa gently shoved him in the shoulder, just to see if the feeling was still there. It was, and when his solid weighty reality was actually moved at her light unreal fragility, she was honestly surprised. “Lisa means she feels literally fragile. She feels like she’s made of glass or ceramic or porcelain. Not a metaphor or figure of speech; Lisa felt like she might break when you grabbed her.”
“Oh.” Dennis said, surprised enough by that to actually look at her and pay attention. “That’s uh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you so hard.”
“You didn’t,” Lisa hurried to reassure him, grimacing internally at the people-pleasing instinct she hadn’t had six hours ago. “Like she said, she feels... fragile. Breakable. You feel solid, and real. It was nothing to do with you, just. The curse.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Seems like it’s maybe not so fun.”
“Parts of it are,” Lisa shrugged. “She’s honestly enjoying serving today, fetching you coffee, cleaning everyone’s rooms, doing laundry. It feels good.” She smiled and lifted her coffee to take another sip, that fragile feeling making the motion appear dainty. “She’s going to clean and polish everyone’s costumes today, too.”
“Weird. How much of that is like, the curse, and how much is it actually changing you?”
“Is there much of a difference?”
“Huh?” Dennis frowned at her. “What do you mean by that?”
She gestured at the costume he was wearing, and his helmet resting on the desk beside the console. “How much of ‘you’ is actually you? How much of you is the mask, and how much is it the real you?” She glanced down at the floor, before adding, “Do you even remember which name is real, and which is the mask?”
Dennis frowned, staring into his reflection in his helmet. He sighed. “Maybe I do see what you mean.”
“For now, it’s true enough to say that everything Lisa’s doing and feeling is the curse,” Lisa said. “And everything is just her, changing. They’re both true perspectives, and they’re both lies.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Nothing has for a long time.”
---
Lisa looked up from the couch where she sat polishing Gallant’s helmet. The Stillness had hit her some time ago, and she’d been pleasantly immersed in the task of caring for the costumes of the Wards who weren’t out patrolling.
Vista, Aegis, and Kid Win entered, laughing among each other. They stopped when they saw Lisa. “Lisa?” Kid Win asked. “What are you doing?”
“Serving,” she answered easily, the Stillness making her voice an eerie-sounding pleasantness, empty of ego or emotion. “Costumes,” she demanded, pointing to the spot next to her with the remainder of Gallant’s pieces she had yet to get to, Clockblocker’s costume he’d just left for her, and her own.
“I - wait, seriously?” Aegis asked.
“Do you have other orders for her?” Lisa asked smoothly, her head tilting to one side in a graceful mechanical motion.
“No, of course not, but -” Aegis started.
“Then she will choose how best to serve by herself. Costumes.” She repeated.
“She’s been like this for an hour,” Dennis commented, emerging from his room in civilian wear. “She was mostly herself before that, but still weirdly subservient.”
“Subservient?” Vista asked.
“She practically begged me to give her orders. She made me coffee. Twice. And she cleaned the whole headquarters.” Dennis said.
“What in the...” Kid Win whispered under his breath.
“Look,” Dennis said. “It’s making her happy, and it is, somehow, Lisa being actually helpful.”
“So, what, we just ignore that our teammate is fucking cursed?” Aegis asked.
“Please,” Lisa said. “Costumes.” She repeated, still pointing.
“Just roll with it,” Dennis said. “We’ll figure something out later. For now, just... she wants to do our chores, let her.”
“You would say that,” Kid Win said, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine, Know-It-All, lemme go change and I’ll bring my costume back.” He left for his room.
The others glanced at each other and shrugged. “This is what you want, Lisa?” Aegis asked.
Lisa stared at him, and he flinched back. She could guess why. The cold, mechanical movement. And an emptiness in her gaze. “What Lisa wants is irrelevant. She exists to serve.”
Dennis shrugged. “You’re not gonna get anything else out of her until she snaps out of this.”
Aegis sighed, staring at Lisa forlornly. “Alright. Let us go change and we’ll bring you our costumes to clean.”
Lisa nodded. “She thanks you.” That done, she leaned back over the helmet she was working on, losing herself in the flow of total focus and service.
As Vista passed behind her a moment later, dropping off her costume, she patted Lisa’s shoulder. Lisa smiled at the fragile feeling, the reassuring solidity of Vista’s hand, the reminder that Lisa was no longer human or a person. She felt the hollowness in her chest blossom a little, seeming to spread and grow larger. Vista said something as well, but Lisa quickly identified that it was neither a question nor an order, and thus required no response, and she didn’t process the words beyond that.
Aegis dropped off his costume, and a few minutes later Kid Win dropped off his own, and sat down next to Lisa to look over Gallant’s costume for any maintenance he might need to do. They worked together in companionable silence for a while. Eventually, Kid Win finished looking over Gallant’s costume, and departed for his workshop.
Lisa’s Stillness faded a little while later, and she relaxed back into a slightly more human set of motions as she worked, but she had a task and was actually enjoying the mindless rhythms of it. Gallant entered just as she pulled the cloth part of his costume out of the dryer, and she handed it to him.
“Lisa cleaned and polished this. Hopefully that’s alright.”
Gallant glanced at her, reading her emotions, and nodded. “That’s fine, thanks, Lisa.”
She beamed at him, even though she knew he was just saying what she wanted to hear. It still felt good to be appreciated for her service. She almost hated herself for that, for a moment. She didn’t want to be reduced to this, just an obedient servant, a slave to whatever orders she was given or whatever tasks she decided were ‘service’. But it did feel good to be appreciated.
And she was already reduced to this. She wasn’t a person, not like everyone else around her. They might look at her and see a person, same as them. But she could feel the emptiness inside herself. Lisa wasn’t a real person. She was faking. Something that looked like a person, but made of porcelain and obedience and emptiness and Stillness.
A doll.