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A Colorful Month

Part 4

For Taiko

By Draconicon

Another man might have wondered if he'd passed out. Nor knew that he hadn't - as a general rule, fainting wasn't a problem for him, and his Hard Memory would have been able to track his online and offline times, and he had been online the whole time - so that meant that something else had happened between the moths gathering around him and the disappearance from the street. Whatever had happened, he didn't remember, and that terrified him as he stood at the edge of a garden that stretched as far as the eye could see.

He'd been turned back to his hero state, blue and red once more, and he was almost afraid to move as he looked down at the tilled earth, at the little flowers that spun out from where he stood. They were arranged in shifting rows and long lines, in watery strings that imitated rivers and taller, petrified woods that looked like buildings that had grown together. He felt like a giant in a smaller world, and that weight of responsibility, real or not, was all the more terrifying.

"You stand in the middle of your own city, Nor."

The Basilissa's voice came from behind him. The immediate urge to whip around was stifled instantly, just in case she was being literal. He looked down at his hooves, watching where he placed them, and slowly turned around, putting one down in a free space between the gray strands of wood and another line of blue flowers. They almost seemed to move as he did, and he wondered if that was a reflection of Novus Ager, as well.

As he made sure that he wasn't crushing anything, he looked up. The mare was still in her black clothes, her eyes surrounded by little disks of white fur as she knelt down, watering one of the little bushes around herself. It was a golden yellow ball of a plant, and he blinked as he saw that there were other colored bushes that extended out from that one, each smaller than the sun-colored -

It's a planetarium, he realized, staring in surprise. She's using the garden like a planetarium.

That was shocking enough as it was. But then he looked at the solar system that she was caring for, and then at the city of Novus Ager that he stood in - well, the city in plant form, that was - and realized that they were about the same size. Why?

The mare stood up after she finished watering the sun-bush, turning to him. She smiled, surprisingly.

"You may walk, as long as you're careful. That particular patch likes to change."

"...Are you sure?"

"Only I may kill these gardens, Nor. They are quite strong enough to handle your hooves."

"So, it's more my safety that we're talking about here?"

"Isn't it always?"

"..."

"Come."

Feeling that it would probably be a bad idea to ignore a request from Murder herself, Nor decided to go with it. Walking forward, he felt his hooves brush the edges of the plants, but rather than crushing them or damaging them, he almost felt like he was sliding off them. It was like those times that he'd fought against a villain whose powers involved creating a frictionless environment. It was very hard to land a hit without completely sliding off the target.

He made it to the edge of the garden plot, feeling almost like he was stepping out of his world again, and found that there was a narrow path between the gardens. He stepped onto the dirt line, feeling rather relieved to be outside of that representation of his world. Being there at that size had felt...wrong. There was more to it than that, but it was the only word that he could really find that worked even somewhat.

The mare made her way to a path as well, walking around with her skirt rustling. The moths followed along, some of them alighting on the low-level wooden posts around the gardens, some just fluttering in her wake. They kept their distance by a dozen feet or so, however, almost like they were giving her and him some space.

"You seem discomforted, Nor."

"Well...it's hard to be comfortable when you get yanked out of your own world. And more when you can't remember how."

"It's for your protection, I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"My way of traveling is...painful, for others. And it would be better for you not to have something that others can profit from. My garden is for me; my guests arrive and leave without knowing how they got here, and I prefer it that way."

"My memory shouldn't be that easy to affect."

"It's not affected, Nor."

"Then how -"

"Nor. I know you are not a stupid man." She shook her head. "I am Murder. Is that not enough?"

"..."

"Walk with me, please?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I am Murder. It was so different to hear it said that way. The Man in Red had the power of Loophole, and the Lord in Lavender had the power of counterfeiting. The Baron had the power of Battery, but the Basilissa? She didn't just have the power of Murder. She said that she was Murder. That was...somehow far more terrifying...

They walked together along the dirt paths. Her soft, tapping hooves were a dramatic counterpoint to his own heavier steps, and he was all too conscious of the way that he lumbered compared to how she floated along. The silence of the garden was all the more unnerving, despite the fact that she had been rather quiet and gentle to him so far. The moths were louder than the silence that threatened to overtake them, sometimes.

He looked around, trying to find distractions. They were not outside, he knew that much. The sky was too unnaturally dark, with no moon, no stars, no nothing. They had illumination, somehow, but it was impossible to tell where it came from. This was a night-garden, a place of utter impossibility, and yet, the plants around them continued to grow with strength and ease.

He found that the different plots weren't restricted to maps. There were other cities, other solar systems, but there were also things in-between. Continents, individual worlds that were represented as trees, and even individuals were shown in plant form. They walked past an entire hedge-row that had been shaped as different people, ranging from tall giants of men that loomed taller than a T-Rex to smaller collections, hive-like individuals that swarmed like fallen fruit from a tree. They were connected by streamers, by vines, by hanging blackberry lines, and each of them was so lifelike that they seemed like they could just leap from the earth and become real.

"What is this place?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"This is my garden," she said.

"It's...rather weird for Murder to raise so much life, isn't it?"

"Is it required that I want to kill?"

"Well, Battery wanted to fight."

"We are all individuals, Nor. Not all of us care to break things."

"..."

"Do you think I should, then? Do you believe that being given a power requires that one uses it?"

"...Heroes say that a lot to other heroes. Responsibility of powers, and all that."

"I have heard it, too. It's a half-statement, at best."

The mare might have been slightly haughty, but she wasn't being cruel with what she was saying, nor what she was doing. It was a rather nice thing, he admitted; someone that had a better head on their shoulders, and seemed to care about what they were doing. She wasn't being cruel, either, nor lording over him what she could do. They were just walking, talking. But why was he here in the first place?

They walked in silence for a while longer, moving along the hedge-row of the living. He passed by several that looked almost familiar, then to those that were. The Man in Red had his own hedge, and so did the Baron. And then -

"That's...that's me..." Nor whispered.

It was an exact replica, woven together of blueberry bushes with raspberry vines running through it. He stared at it, looking at the way that it imitated his own colors with how lush and rich it was with the fruits that made it up. His mouth fell open, his eyes widened, and he couldn't walk on.

"Why?"

"Because there are things worth cultivating, Nor. Many things out there are worth growing, even through adversity."

"But why...here? Why do you keep a garden like this?"

"One cannot have all things in their mind at once, can they?" Murder chuckled softly to herself, stepping over the low-level fence between her and the Nor-bush. "Some may keep photographs, and others will maintain knickknacks, collections of what they had, what other people represented to them. And I have my garden."

"But...gardens die."

"I am Murder, Nor."

"But - that would just mean -"

"Death comes when I choose."

He looked down at a small beetle that had pushed out of the earth. The mule recognized it, something that had been on some of the packages coming in from the farmlands outside of Novus Ager proper. It was a little fruit pest, something that fed on the berries that were grown without the right pesticides. They could end up destroying whole lines of crops if they weren't caught quickly, and -

And the mare didn't even look. She didn't even gesture at it. She merely shifted her stance, and the beetle flipped over, dead on the spot. The soft click-clack-click that followed told him that there'd been a small swarm of them in the tunnel that the beetle had left, and her little motion had killed all of them, too.

"Of course, just because adversity can help someone grow, it doesn't mean that one must torment them. A little help never hurts."

"...You aren't...you aren't what I expected Murder to be."

"I'm sure that you expected a killer, Nor. My predecessor was quite the bloodthirsty slaughterer. In some ways, he came very close to breaking the Council completely."

"What happened to him?"

"The rest of the Council decided that he was a risk to the multi-verse."

"And to themselves, probably."

"They are part of the multi-verse as well, Nor. A little self-interest doesn't preclude an interest in existence as a whole." The mare plucked two berries that were sagging down from the hedge's eyes, and she offered one to him. He took it silently as she continued. "When he passed, they needed a new candidate. I took the mantle up."

"How many have you killed?"

"That depends on what you count as killing, Nor. Do you believe that my slaughter of the beetles beneath your hedge is a killing?"

"...I...Do you?"

"I am not so decent a woman as to say 'a life is a life,' but there is such a thing as 'a death is a death.' If you count all that have died beneath my powers, sentient or not, then I am responsible for the deaths of millions. If you count merely those that have the ability to think, at a greater level than the pets of the world? Then I would say less than you imagine."

"A hundred?"

"Less."

"Fifty?"

"Less."

"...I don't know if I believe that."

"Murder is a very final resort, Nor. I do not believe it should ever be the first choice."

There was some relief in that, but not nearly as much as he would have wished. He would have liked to believe that she was a safe person, but the fact that she could kill with a thought, or even less, made her utterly terrifying in his view. She was akin to a goddess, someone that could harvest the world if she so chose, and that included him.

Or even parts of him, he realized. Murder could kill. Battery had been able to injure things that could not feel pain, had shattered his way right out of Novus Ager with his powers. What if she had not just stifled a memory, but killed it? Was that something that could get around his Hard Memory? That was a horrifying thought.

The Basilissa in Black stood tall before him, and he realized that she had finished cultivating the hedge for now. She offered him another blueberry, and he took it without thinking.

"I believe that life should be cultivated. And I believe that those that threaten the best of it should be kept at bay. There is a time and place for my powers, but it isn't as often, nor is it as helpful, as many would think."

"...Somehow, you are only becoming more scary."

"It is the other half of great responsibility and great powers."

"What do you mean?"

"...Do you know why some of us are interested in you, Nor?"

"The Baron told me that it was because LiL was throwing a fit."

"He is downplaying it, then. The Lord in Lavender believes that the use of you was incorrect, that the Man in Red overstepped his bounds and involved someone that shouldn't have been involved. He is drawing attention to you and your city, and there are those among the Council that believe it deserves more scrutiny."

"Are you one of them?"

"I believe that any place that manages to maintain itself as well as your city does throughout the multi-verse deserves great attention. There are many places that change, and many cities that have ceased to become in other places. There are many places that have never come to be, or if they have, are unrecognizable compared to their counterparts. Even the cities that are the most stable between the levels of the multi-verse are still only so similar between a handful of the different universes out there before they become so different as to be something else entirely.

"Your city, however, is much the same no matter how far one travels. It seems as if there is something unique to it that allows it to maintain some core identity that never changes, no matter where, when, or to what how you go. To have something that lives so consequence free, and to have it spread across an entire city..."

"Consequence free? You obviously haven't paid a visit before today."

"Nor. You have super-villains in your city. Powerful ones."

"Not as strong as any of you."

"But strong ones, yes?"

"..."

"Yet, none of them have ever caused real damage to your city. No matter how far they've gone, no matter how far they stretch out their power, no matter how much they've menaced where you come from, they have never, ever done something that would cause any lasting harm to you, the city, or anyone living in it. Whether that is because someone from outside visited, or someone from the inside became aware of some great new power, or someone just happened to be at the right place at the right time, it has never actually gone beyond the potential of threat. Unlike any other place in the universe, there has never been a true, lasting consequence for all the bad that collects there.

"And you, Nor, are interesting to me, because of all the individuals that I have seen in this universe, you truly do live a life without consequences."

"...Bullshit."

He coughed as he realized that he'd been holding his breath for her entire delivery. He didn't know why, but there was a gravitas to the mare that made it hard for him to even breathe around her. The mule focused on just breathing in, even as she turned to him with an amused expression on her face.

She didn't speak, however, giving him a chance to collect himself. He shook his head again.

"Bullshit. I live...I deal with consequences all the time. I have to take care of myself, and the city. I have to work...I have to work hard. I have to deal with all the things that keep happening to me."

"Indeed. Mind control. Hypnosis. Many times, sex that would have been very non-consensual if you hadn't been able to forget about it, or if it hadn't happened precisely the way that it did. Suffering great defeats. Suffering much pain. And yet...what do you remember of these things?"

"I remember enough. I know they happened."

"Do you?"

The mare cocked her head to the side, not in tease, but in genuine curiosity. He shook his head.

"I remember," he insisted.

"Tell me, then. Do you remember what happened to you when the Baron found you?"

"We fought."

"And do you remember the pain?"

"..."

"Do you remember the humiliation?"

"What are you -"

"Do you remember how it felt, to be manhandled, to be tossed around, to be utterly helpless against the forces of someone so many times greater than you, to know that you could be destroyed in a mere moment if your opponent believed that it would be more interesting to see you dead rather than alive in his hands?"

"He couldn't kill. He said that. He couldn't kill."

"But you did not know that at the time. Do you remember that, Nor? Do you remember that feeling?"

"...I remember it happening."

"But not the feeling." The mare shook her head. "And that is the strangeness around you. You live a life where something else takes care of you. Where the trauma, pain, horror, and everything else that could hurt you is filtered out. You live a life where your memories are made safe. Of all living beings, you have a literally selective memory. Oh, not one that allows you to select what to keep and get rid of, I know, but one that selects the things that let you form a reality for yourself without having the pain that would come with it. No matter what happens to you, you are able to live without the pain that all others would carry with them. Unlike everyone else, you can remember, but not hurt."

The mule stared at her, unable to find a way to respond that wouldn't be lying to himself. He wanted to say something, wanted to challenge her idea of what he was, what he had become, what he dealt with, but it felt like anything that wasn't admitting that she was right would be lying to himself, too.

But she's wrong...

Yet, at the same time, just looking back at that memory, he could see the events. He could feel what had happened to him, remembered the facts of the pain, but...but there was something missing. Something that didn't feel like he was actually reliving it.

He started thinking of his other fights, the other things that had happened to him. He remembered going up against Olag and getting his ass fucked, used as the 'Little Buddy' that the bear had been looking for at the time. There had been anger there, in the moment, but it had faded quickly. Despite being a programmed doll, he didn't feel pain thinking about that, or fear, or worry that it might happen again.

Again and again, he tried to find some memory that was normal, that defied what Murder was talking about, but every single memory he pulled at had the same sort of lack. Even the sad memories or ones that should have been painful had that same sort of filtered effect. He didn't have bad feelings towards things, only annoyance at the very most.

I...don't I face consequences? Don't I deal with things?

At that moment, he honestly didn't know. The world felt...off, now, like something had cracked inside. He stared straight ahead, slowly lifting one hand to the side of his head and rubbing it. The Basilissa, Murder, the mare, shook her head slowly.

"I'm sorry. It seems that you weren't entirely aware of that."

"Why...Why do you..."

"I am curious why this has happened...and in some ways, what it will do."

"I'm just...I'm a hero. I'm there to help."

"Yes. And you help people surprisingly well."

"Then why -"

"Why does it matter that you stay consequence free? I don't know. It's somewhat unique to you, Nor. Like I said, you are the first living being that has the ability to do this. You are not a pure robot, nor even a cyborg. You are a person, a living person, who can grow and change, who is not artificial...and yet, you can curate yourself. You make yourself what you are in a way that nobody else can. Life has not had consequences for you in that fashion for some time, and that...that makes you very different.

"What will you become, like this? What will you be? A kind person that never loses his hope for others? An emotionless man that loses his empathy for those around him, for having never suffered like they have? Someone that looks at the world differently, not understanding how others can't bounce back? Someone that believes in the good of all, despite the evidence of his past?

"You, Nor, are interesting for the possibilities that you present. You are, in some ways, the next stage of what people may become. What happens when the world cannot hurt you, cannot change you, save for when you want to be changed? What happens when your memories, your self, is so secure that it can only change when you choose for it to be changed? What do you become, when there is nothing to force that shift?

"And, now, what will happen when you are aware of just how special, how different, and how unique you are?"

"Why...why did you have to..."

"Because you have had enough time go by without knowing. It's time to see what happens when you do."

He stared at her blankly, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had expected something horrifying when he met Murder, but he hadn't thought that it would come in a form like this. What could have been a series of grisly kills had turned into a single, horrific murder. It wasn't even killing a person, but rather killing his perception of things, and then leaving him to pick up the pieces.

He shook from head to toe as he realized just how...how different he was, and how much he was probably not thinking about. The wall between him and the quarantine zone of his memory suddenly felt so flimsy, and he wondered how much had been deleted back there would have broken the average person.

Everything felt hot, all of a sudden. There was a feeling of something going off, something being wrong in his head, and he groaned as he stumbled, falling back by a step. He didn't feel good. In fact, he felt very wrong.

"Nor -"

He turned away, falling forward as soon as he did. Barely keeping from falling on his face, Nor leaned on one of the little wooden fences and was violently ill. He gagged, then just submitted to the inevitable as his guts clenched hard.

Surprisingly, the Basilissa knelt beside him, gently rubbing his back as he voided his stomach. He couldn't say anything as she rubbed his back, couldn't even protest her touch. All he could do was ride it out.

When it was finally done, the mare poured some of the water from her can into her palm, holding it to his mouth. He wetted his mouth and spat out what was left.

"I expected that to be violent. I didn't know it would hit you so hard."

"I'm not like that," he muttered.

"Not entirely, clearly," she said, shaking her head as she got back to her feet. "But you are different. And it's something that will eventually happen to others. If it has happened to you, then the technology is out there. The possibilities of others becoming like you, of having curated lives, of living in ways that they choose rather than just as the world will shape them, is growing. You are the only one living that way now, though, and I am not the only one curious about your life, and where it will lead."

"Who...who are the others?" he asked. "Who else is going to try and screw with me like this?"

"Who do you think?"

"...LiL?"

"He has focused the attention of most of the Council on your city, but he himself is very, very focused on you. He took many consequences for his failure in the other world, and he hates you greatly for that."

"I just...I stopped him."

"And in Novus Ager, that would matter little. A simple plan being stymied is just part of the cycle. A villain doesn't stay in jail for long. An evil-doer doesn't stay off the streets forever. A plotter of dark deeds merely waits for the next opportunity. You live in a world where heroes and villains have little consequences. If a villain wins, then the hero breaks free shortly after. If the hero wins, the villain will be back to doing what they do within a month. There is no pain, no real problem for someone that loses.

"LiL lost to you, and he lost a world. He lost his secondary headquarters. He nearly lost someone that he loved. Even now, that is a tenuous connection that could be shattered if he plays his hands wrong. He lost everything."

"He...was doing...something horrible," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes. "I had to do that."

"Perhaps you did," Murder said. "But that does not mean that there were no consequences. The world is filled with them, Nor. You just happen to live in the only place where they tend to avoid. But that charmed time, that gentle life? I cannot promise that it will continue."

"Why? Are you going to kill it?"

"I have my limits, Nor. And my standards. I will not...but that does not mean that it will last forever. The Council has its eyes on your city, and on you. Sooner or later, something will have to change."

"..."

"Do you want to go home?"

"Yes...I really do..."

"Then stand. I will - ah. A moment, Nor..."

As Nor stood up, the mare stepped away. She walked down one of the lanes, and Nor stared as something else living stepped out from one of the gardens. It was another horse, someone that was a little younger. Someone that looked like they had come from a Victorian-era world, too.

Murder knelt down by the stranger, whispering something to them. The younger horse hugged her around the neck, and Murder pulled a small cookie from her blouse. The young equine took it and darted back into his garden, disappearing once more.

"What...what was that?" Nor asked.

"A gardener may cultivate many things," she said. "Some merely are cultivated at more of a distance."

"Are you..."

"A parent? Yes." She smiled. "A few times over, in many places. But that is for another time."

"..."

"Goodbye, Nor. And for what it's worth, I am sorry for breaking things open to the extent I did. I thought you were more ready than you were."

"...I don't know what to say to that."

"Then I suppose it will be a silent farewell."

The moths came again, and he felt the world go dark just as before.

Nor opened his eyes to find himself back in bed, though still in his super-form. He looked to his side, saw that Choin had already gotten up, and he groaned under his breath. Another little blank spot in his memory, and he knew that he was going to be driving himself nuts as to how he got back and what was missing.

Now that he was aware that his memory was being curated to the extent that it was, he went back over what had happened in the garden. It was still fresh, but he realized that what he remembered was more...sterilized, now, compared to what he felt. Even now, he was feeling the emotions slowly sliding away, the sheer height of them being flattened out. Not to the extent that he felt nothing, but more as a way to keep him from sicking up again.

Was this always happening?

He didn't know, but he was starting to think it might have been. Just how much of a person was he, really? How much did he actually -

Nor rubbed his forehead, stopping those thoughts in their tracks before they could start getting out of hand. He might be working a bit on the denial side of things, but for now, he needed to think of something different, something better. If he was questioning himself, then he couldn't do his job, and that would be very problematic going forward. He needed to take care of things properly, and...

Well...I'm supposed to help Shore Guardian again...maybe we can...

He remembered how comforting it had been to lose himself in the moment on the pole with the orca. Maybe there were other tricks that Shore Guardian knew that would help him relax before they got to the work part of being a hero.

All things considered, he rather needed that. He grumbled, pulling himself out of bed and stretching his arms over his head. Shower first, then he could go and get ready for work, and then he could get some fun.

Fun. He chuckled. All things considered, he imagined that he was going to get a great deal of fun, considering how flirty the orca had been so far. It was really hard to believe that he was getting that interested in the other super at this point, since he had a boyfriend, and since he was pretty well taken care of that way, but...

Well, when Shore Guardian gave that sort of feeling just by being around, it was hard not to think of that. He was just comforting, and a different flavor of comforting compared to Choin. Choin gave that friendship thing, that heart-love. Shore Guardian gave something different. Not just lust-love, but...

It was hard to describe, but it felt good. At the moment, he felt that he just needed that to get himself to stop thinking about all the things that Murder had put in his head.

The End

Summary: Nor gets taken to Murder's garden, where the mare starts talking about why he's so interesting, both to her and to the Council at large.

Tags: No sex, mare, mule, supers, Novus Ager, colorful council, series, superpowers, garden, mystery, psychological fuckery,