Though it was the day Naomi would make her speech, Iris would not spend it in the auditorium. She had no desire to see Naomi coronated.
The end of this year was not a very good time for Iris, as the middle of spring made Natasha more alive in her, those tendencies again to try to inhabit her, dislike who she disliked and love who she had. She was not really sure why Natasha's death had triggered this need in her: she had never felt it with her parents. There seemed something inexplicable that Natasha brought out in her, unexplainable by friendship or love, but that nonetheless contained Natasha, however embedded, in her residual upwelling and subsiding in the length of Iris's being.
She remembered today was fanmail day, but didn't know where to pick her's up for the year. She went up to the president's office and was not surprised to find President Anagen still there.
Kate looked up: it was her habit of always having something she was *looking up from*. "Morning, Iris. You aren't attending Naomi's speech?"
"Neither are you, to be fair."
Kate smirked. "That's different."
"She's Olivia's mentor, not mine. I already told her not to consider me for her squadron."
"I hate to break it to you, Iris, but Naomi wouldn't have considered picking you regardless. You've got your duties as a mentor next year; she wouldn't pull you away from that. Only time I've ever seen a second-year chosen for somebody's squadron is Bruce, and even then, he came recommended by a close friend of her's."
"Suits me fine. Mutual aim makes for easy separation."
"If nominated you would not run, and if elected you will not serve." said Kate. "Still, while the name's on the tip of my mind: has Olivia been treating you well?"
"She has. I just suppose it's sometimes been difficult to recognize that she cares for me regardless of how I choose to receive it. I've tried to analyze my feelings for her, before, but... some old reserve always holds me back. Maybe I'm worried that my attachment to her could become yet another trap."
"A bit of pessimism is protective, Iris, but you can't confuse fear for realism. Terror is what students cause, not what they feel."
Iris nodded. "That does remind me what I came up here for: where do I pick up my fanmail?"
"They just placed the packages this morning. They'll be in your student mailbox."
"You know if they actually pay attention to the filters students request?"
"I'd assume they do, though your tone makes me suspect you've got a particular topic you'd prefer not be broached in text."
"I just don't want civilians degrading me with sympathy."
"You can request your hatemail to be motivated with spite."
Iris shook her head. "Won't need it. I've already have enough hatred following me my whole life. Always felt it was mine to wreak back upon the source so I wouldn't crumble in the world's grip."
"Judging by how quickly you've climbed the rankings lately, I suspect that isn't a philosophy you keep to yourself."
"I doubt it could be termed a philosophy. I've never been much for any method of thinking that tries to negate the need for physical action." said Iris. "Speaking of, I wanted to ask if you knew about Viktoria harassing me lately."
"And?"
"I'm mentioning it to you because I'd like to handle it myself, regardless of what you hear."
"Obviously, otherwise this wouldn't be my first time hearing of it."
"She tries to guilt me over Natasha's death. She's angry at me for not having overridden Natasha's judgment in not asking her for help; she's angry at my rejection of her, my love of Natasha and hatred of her; she tries to meld herself with Natasha so that she can feel I have no logical reason for my delineated feelings towards her. It's that bilious language of obligation and guilt, which I'm ashamed to say does gnaw at me however much I'd prefer it not." said Iris. "I loved Natasha, and yet... sometimes I just despise the power that idea still holds over me. There's good, loving memories of her. But there's times where my latch to her memory molds her into my own personal torturer living in my skull."
Kate nodded. "I should've told you that then: that there would be times when you would worry your behavior was disrespecting her memory. How you'll resolve that is for you to work through, but I'll tell you this: we're the sum of our choices, of course, but that also means that you sometimes can't judge yourself for decisions you made that you wish had gone differently. Whoever would've made that decision differently would've been a different you. I suppose what I might say is that, like me, you're an investigative personality who makes shadows out of everything posthaste and imbue entanglements out of micromoments, and maybe that accounts for some of what you've left to work through with your ideal of Natasha."
"…maybe so. I just wish Viktoria didn't sense that inhabiting me as well."
"I've heard the same thing you're mentioning from Naomi before. As you might know, Viktoria was Olivia's mentor before and seemed to view that girl with the mark of Cain, despising her for what were usually the most insane and arbitrary of reasons. Which isn't to say she was always like this, but I suspect something in Natasha's death allowed her grief and that already gashed soul of her's to bleed into each other. What that is I can't surmise."
"I just have difficulty understanding why she takes my rejection of her with such difficulty. I thought at first it was because she tried to replace Natasha with me, just as I myself tried to inhabit Natasha in those... m-months after her death, and yet now she seems to have delineated the two of us enough in her mind that I see no reason for her continued harassment and guilting of me."
"There's occasionally a point in a person's life, Iris, where any rejection can cause them to fall to nothingness as badly as a much larger tragedy in their life. Sometimes it reaches back to a buried memory or an unresolved trauma. What it is isn't for you to guess or care to know. You deal with her as she is, not why she is. But I've always been a fan of revenge done well. Do it quickly, proportionately, and don't expect it to resolve anything but the desire for revenge."
"I'm decently acquainted. I just wouldn't want to be expelled over it."
"That's at Naomi's discretion, and while I've picked up enough of how you view her, I can tell you she thinks a hell of a lot of you."
"That's kind of her, because the feeling certainly isn't mutual."
"I'll decline to mention that to her."
Iris shrugged. "I've never been one to hide how I feel about someone."
"A trait I suspect has gotten you into no end of trouble."
"You aren't the same way?"
"I preferred to put a slight limiter on my tongue. You'll find that a bit of deceitful diplomacy can save you a hell of a lot of time wasted on honest rhetoric." She shook her head. "My presidency should be example enough of that."
"Plenty of students you disliked?"
"Humans in general. I still revere the badge, of course. I just find it hard to have sympathy for most humans. They cause most of their own problems, so I prefer not to be near them when possible. And while I can say most of my success, and what few obstacles there have been to it, is self-created, I often wondered what drives people to live existences that won't challenge them to be better. And so I find that when people have lashed out at me or others, what they truly lash out is at themselves, in a sense, and perhaps there is evidence that there still remains some ash of existence in them." Kate looked off. "Alright. Well, I've got to go down to congratulate Naomi and start getting packed to head off to Timepact. That's the agency where Swarm works, by the by."
Iris mused. "What's she like?"
"Tall."
Iris left with Kate, and she went to receive her fanmail. It was odd, for an obligatory resentment came over Iris as she thought over Kate. Objectively she had her reasons to dislike her: she had forced her with Viktoria, she had been ignorant to Naomi's usage of her, she had not apologized for her other mistakes. Yet for whatever reason she found no objective footing for any negative feelings towards Kate, and perhaps that was why she felt this strange hope after their conversation, all the more because Kate was a stranger.
She decided to call a few friends over to her house to read their mail together: Amelie, Eva, Elizabeth, and Olivia. Elizabeth has not yet been introduced, but Iris generally liked her and she often seemed lonely.
"Hey, before I forget, Iris, I have you to blame for my hatemail being twice the size from last year." said Eva.
"What'd I do?" said Iris.
"Kill Ike. I read one of the letters. They don't deny Ike did actually kill that girl, because you're pretty unassailable a witness, but they did say you were missing context. 'She was just looking to get famous by bringing down the celebrity she was fucking.'" said Eva. "'Now none of us get a chance at him.' 'She ruined it for the rest of us.' I didn't read any more of them, but from what they told me, most of them were from teen girls."
"Sick fucks." said Elizabeth. "Straight girls are some of the sickest fucks on the planet. They're the only animals on the planet that birth their natural predators."
Iris pulled a letter out from her box, but debated whether to read it: it was rather sexual and she was not sure how Amelie would take such. Then she noticed it was written by a man, and excused herself as she decayed it.
"You know, you can tell them to filter out anything from men." said Elizabeth. "That's what I did for mine."
"I should look into that for next year." muttered Amelie. "I don't know what it is about my mental issues that men find so attractive."
Iris looked up and saw Eva smiling at her. With a glance Iris replied: Fuck you. "Suppose I'll let them know for next year." She picked one out of her box; it was a bright pink letter with hearts all over it, and immediately she saw Eva smiling at her.
"'Hey muscle-stud,
If you ever need to train your grip, might I suggest my neck?'"
Elizabeth shifted. "Jeez, I get so uncomfortable when civilians ask that."
"'P.S. You should really work on your squat. Women love a host with thighs that can crush the sun and an ass whose orbit rivals Jupiter.'"
"Gross." Elizabeth frowned. "Who the hell would write something like that?"
"I've often asked that question myself." said Iris as she decayed it.
Eva looked devastated.
Iris looked over to Elizabeth, or Liz as she called her. She had only gotten four letters of fanmail; Iris doubted the years would bring much more than that. Yet she seemed happy at the one she was reading. "Well, this one is from a lesbian, at least."
"So was the last one." muttered Eva.
Elizabeth was engrossed in her letter. She seemed very giddy about having gotten a lesbian fan, and this was again typical for her; whenever she expressed emotion she usually did so in an exaggerated or overweening sense. She read over it to herself, then asked: "Hey, what's moonlighting?"
"Having a second job?" said Iris.
"Oh, ok." She smiled, then kept it to herself, as if this anonymous letter somehow contained knowledge of herself she wanted no other to witness. Elizabeth was odd to Iris, for while Iris had held herself back from personal investments, Elizabeth did so frequently; she wanted desperately to be liked by other lesbians, which naturally had a variety of outcomes: usually none good for herself.
In the fluctuation of talk few of these women paid attention to their letters, and Eva began telling a story about how she had killed a chain of three Revenants recently; a tale that by its embellishment Iris suspected she had been holding until she could tell it in front of Olivia. But whenever Eva swung her hand to add emphasis to the story, Elizabeth would flinch.
Eventually they moved onto talk of presidency.
"Yeah, Serena looked pretty proud hugging her up there. She's so cute." said Eva. "So, Naomi as president..."
"I thought her speech was very nice." said Amelie. "She's very intelligent."
"Yeah, it's just too bad we have two straight presidents in a row." said Elizabeth. "Straight women would rather climb a tree and suck a dick than stand on the ground and support a lesbian."
Olivia glared at her.
"Hey, I thought of this one recently." said Elizabeth. "They say heterosexuality is natural, right? But so is cancer."
"That's a good one." said Eva (mostly noncommittally).
"Thanks. I just hate those sick fucks."
"And the men lose for the sixth year in a row." said Amelie.
"Yeah, they say there's a war on men these days." said Elizabeth. "I just wish it was the type fought with artillery and flamethrowers."
"You missed her presidential outfit, Iris." said Eva. "Shame, too, 'cuz she said she's only wearing it for special occasions."
"What's it look like?"
"It's that black tracksuit on the right half of her body, and on the left half, it's this expanding infection of stone. It's like the armor of a golem trying to expand east. It's neat."
"I helped her with the makeup." added Olivia.
"Also, torture is banned now." said Eva. "Heads-up."
"Why?" said Iris.
"Naomi says it isn't an effective way to get information."
Elizabeth blinked. "People were doing it for information?"
"If you take video of another student doing it, she'll increase your rank by 5."
"She's panopticoning us." muttered Amelie. "Except to decrease misery rather than increase it."
"Naomi really doesn't like torture." said Olivia. "It's a personal thing with her. She just doesn't like making people suffer."
Elizabeth thought to ask why a woman who cared for others' suffering continued to fuck men and encourage them, but what dim social skills she possessed told her she should not. As you will learn eventually, this blame was typical to Elizabeth's patterns; she hated even her own mother more than her abusive father, for she had chosen to give birth to Elizabeth, which she always regarded as a retarded decision.
Iris pulled out another letter from her box. It was from Viktoria, so she put it back. "Viktoria."
"Oh, that sick fuck." said Elizabeth. "Imagine being given the opportunity to become a lesbian and still worshiping dumb fucks who think you're useless after 30."
"Oh." Eva nodded and read her own. "Huh, I never knew that you could say someone has cocoa-colored skin in so many different ways. 'My Nutella princex.'"
"Iris, do you mind if I read it?" said Olivia.
Iris pulled out the letter and left it for Olivia to grab. She continued with her own fanmail, but she caught some of it:
'I have observed you for a while and have regularly checked in with Kate on your progress. Decry me as invasive, if you wish, but I hope you know that Natasha would be proud of your growth as a student. Whenever she would speak of you, she had expressed wishes to eventually have the three of us on a contract together, but that she wished to help reach you the basics of investigation and fighting first. She even considered allowing you on contracts with other mentors, once your federal investigation was over.
I did not probe her further for details, but she made a joke in passing that your childhood made her worry little for your development, for the more terrible the upbringing the better the student. (I suppose this is one of those jokes that lands better if you were there.)
However, given what recently occured, I know that you likely do not wish for me to be in your life, but I hope that there can eventually be a reconcilation between us, even if I suspect you may be better off without my guidance.
Sincerely,
Viktoria'
As Iris glanced back from the letter, she continued to read her other fanmail. Apathy took hold of her form, and she was unconvinced. She knew enough of Viktoria to know this was more manipulation, but by now she could not be moved. But as Olivia reached over and rubbed her shoulder, she mildly resented her affections, for she had been an observer to events that should be kept between herself, Viktoria, and Natasha.
Eventually they finished their fanmail and everyone but Olivia left. Iris turned to her. "Didn't get any fanmail?"
Olivia smiled. "I'm going to let you figure this one out. What type of fanmail do you think I usually get?"
Iris looked at Olivia and tried to see her as a civilian might, objectively and without the bias of friendship. She was a beautiful goth woman and often dressed in ways that accentuated this... more recently she had caught her eyes lingering on Olivia in a way she couldn't convince herself was purely platonic. When she looked back up, Olivia seemed pleased with her for doing it. Perhaps she was just imbuing things.
"Understood."
"The issue with being this attractive is you can't convince yourself people like you for your personality."
Now she felt guilty. "Sorry, Olivia. I'd write a letter to your personality if I could."
Olivia smiled, then tapped Iris's nose. "Maybe you should."
Iris blushed.
Naomi would not again speak to Iris for the year, and such suited Iris fine. She had already told Olivia that she would not accept a position in Naomi's squadron were she given one; indeed she had not. Over the summer she would train well for her upcoming mentorship and to use her red lightning; time and therapy would do much to resolve such issues; but though she was not interested in Olivia, there was a certain hold to her atmosphere that Iris was beginning to realize she could not negate by disbelieving in gravity.
Then there was again her need to solve Viktoria, for which violence would be useful, yet refined in the abasement of an external problem rather than to sublimate an internal morass; she thought again of Natasha's advice that she hone her natal impulses in directions that were too cold of regions for other hosts, finding herself in the midst of memory, looking at all about her that would need to be remade her own.
[END OF ARC: FORTRESS OF AN EGO]