Kith And Kin 20-03 (Summus Proelium)

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A/N – If you don’t read Heretical Edge and thus missed this note, the first non-canon for Summus Proelium this month was just released for everyone right here

Damn it, why did my brother have to show up now? I already had enough to deal with. Why did it have to turn out that my family was protecting the guy who had killed Murphy’s brother? Seriously, this guy? They had to protect this guy? Fuck. Now this whole situation had suddenly become a lot more complicated. And it came just when we had the guy dead to rights. Because of course it had. We couldn’t just finish this thing just by chasing Luciano down and sending him to prison that easily. Something like this had to happen. 

That rush of annoyed and worried thoughts flooded through my head even as I pivoted that way. I saw my brother, of course. He was standing there in a pair of designer jeans, with a gleaming silver shirt, red leather jacket, and thin red leather gloves. Though I was pretty sure that wouldn’t be what the other two saw. He was almost certainly using one of those illusion devices, or whatever they were. The point was, I highly doubted he was actually standing here in the open looking just like himself. 

Murphy was already snapping her shotgun back and forth between the man who had killed her brother, and the new arrival. She was clearly right on the edge of losing it entirely. “Who the hell are you? Back off! Just get the fuck away, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.” 

With his hands raised, Simon gave a slow shake of his head. “Two things. One, I’m afraid this does concern me. See that guy there has paid an awful lot of money to make it concern me. Not saying I’m his biggest fan, but money is money, and we have a reputation to keep. And two, I really don’t like people pointing guns at me. Especially jumpy people with their finger way too close to the trigger.” 

Even as he said that, Simon made a grasping motion with his right hand. A sudden silvery glowing rope or cable (actually not too dissimilar from Silversmith’s power) extended from that leather glove, catching hold of the shotgun barrel. With a sudden yank, he tore the weapon from her hands as Murphy yelped, tossing it over to the side about twenty feet away, where it clattered to the ground.

She made a motion as though to go after it, but abruptly Simon’s other hand snapped out and a pistol suddenly appeared in it, jumping out of the sleeve of his jacket. “Uh uh,” he called out. “Just stay there. Trust me, I know why you’re so pissed, and I don’t blame you. I really don’t. He’s a piece of shit. But just stay there.” His eyes moved to me then, squinting as though trying to figure out why I had remained rooted to the ground. “If you’re planning something, kid, it’s a bad idea.” 

Planning something? No, not really. At that very moment I was still mostly reeling from having my brother this close. It cut through a lot of the confidence I’d built up over these past weeks. All I could think about at that moment was how nervous I was about keeping my identity from him. I’d managed it back when I was first starting out, of course. But I wasn’t sure how much of that was luck. And I hadn’t really stayed and talked to him. Actually standing here and interacting with him? Even with my changed voice, I was terrified that he would immediately figure out who I really was. This whole situation had become a lot more dangerous. 

And yet, what was I supposed to do? I could not and would not let the guy who had killed Murphy’s brother just walk away, no matter how worried I was about my brother and my secret identity. That wouldn’t happen. It was wrong, and she’d never forgive me, no matter how much I explained. I had to do something about it, but I still had no idea what. Could I actually fight my brother? I’d seen how easily he dismantled that guy back at the mall. Yes, I had powers, but could I actually deal with him when he had his skill, the pistol, and those clearly Touched-Tech gloves? A small voice in the back of my head was insisting that I had faced much worse threats. And yet, I couldn’t stop telling myself that he was my big brother and I didn’t stand a chance. 

“Paintball?” Murphy spoke up in a confused, worried, helpless tone. And it was hearing that, the obvious pain and loss in the voice of a girl I cared about, which snapped me out of my moment of being completely paralyzed by indecision and panic. 

“Sorry,” I found myself blurting without thinking about it, “I was just trying to figure out what makes you think you’re going to walk in here and stop this worthless fuck from going to prison where he belongs. He’s a murderer. You really wanna walk in here and defend a murderer?” I tried to keep my voice more casual than it wanted to be. I did not want Simon wondering why Paintball would be emotionally upset about that. I didn’t want him wondering anything about me at all, if I could help it. God, this whole thing was so dangerous. In more ways than one. 

“Fuck you, cocksucker!” Luciano snapped. “You think you can judge me just cuz I capped a few assholes? You’re just a–” 

He was interrupted by Murphy making a noise of outrage in the back of her throat, starting to throw herself at him. Which made Simon snap his gun that way to warn her. But I moved first, before he could speak. Besides being frozen by indecision, I had spent the past few moments painting designs across the back of my costume. I activated green, orange, and purple spots while lunging that way. Speed, toughness, and strength boosts, all at once. 

It wasn’t enough. Even moving a little under twice as fast as I would have normally, Simon still had quicker reflexes. He pivoted aside smoothly, snatching the outstretched pistol away from my grasping fingers as his other hand snapped out to catch hold of my wrist. In an instant, his foot collided with my ankle while he gave my arm a yank. The next thing I knew, I was tumbling head over heels and landing on my back on the cement. It didn’t hurt, but the sudden rush of being knocked around like that was enough to leave me briefly disoriented. 

Simon was standing over me, starting it to point his gun down to tell me not to move. But before he could get more than a single word of it out, I managed to lash out and up with one foot. A foot that had a blue spot on the bottom of my shoe. Just as my foot made contact with his pistol, I activated the paint. Between the purple strength that was still running through me, and the added boost from the blue push, the gun was sent flying away from him. 

Instantly, I lashed out again in a kick toward his stomach. But Simon caught my ankle under his arm and twisted so that the force I was trying to use to kick him was instead spent in spinning myself sideways along the ground. 

In the process of that, I caught a glimpse of Murphy. She wasn’t having much more luck. She had jumped on Luciano’s back, but he yanked her off and was about to throw her bodily to the ground. My hand snapped out in the midst of being yanked around by my ankle, shooting orange paint, then a quick burst of purple that way. Both hit, a pair of orange and purple splotches across the side of her shirt, activating just before she was slammed to the cement. 

Hoping that that would be enough to help her get out of that, I slapped my own hand against the cement and painted the palm blue. The sudden force from that, as my hand rebounded away from the sidewalk, shoved my foot out of Simon’s grasp and up, kicking his stomach. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I was trying for, given the way he twisted aside at the last second, but it was still enough to make him stumble backward while reflexively releasing my leg. 

I was able to spring back to my feet by that point, before he could recover. A quick glance to the side showed that Murphy had taken advantage of the paint I gave her. She grabbed Luciano’s foot with both hands and yanked it out from under him, sending the man to the ground with a blurted curse. 

Meanwhile Simon was already lunging at me, giving a muttered curse of his own about me being a stupid asshole or something to that effect. Quickly, I activated another picture across my costume, this one of an orange demon face with a wide grinning face of purple teeth and green eyes. 

Again, purple strength, green speed, and orange toughness. Sure, it wasn’t a huge picture, I was still trying to conserve paint as much as I could. But still, it made me about as strong as an adult man, about half again as fast as I should have been, and tough enough to tank a bullet. 

And it still wasn’t enough. Not really. My brother was too fast, too skilled. He had been doing this for a long time, that much was patently obvious. Despite having no powers, and not even using those gloves of his, he evaded every single punch I threw at him over those few seconds. He wasn’t even actually trying to hit me back or anything, aside from a few light taps as though he was testing me. Or maybe taunting me. Whichever the case, what mattered was that I couldn’t actually hit him. I needed more speed. But that would mean using more paint. 

I had to. I could either conserve paint and keep being too slow to actually hit him until I ran out of everything anyway, or I could expend it and maybe manage something useful in the process. It was the only real shot I had with this. Especially with Murphy struggling against Luciano right behind me. I needed to change things up and take a risk. I needed to end this fight right now. But I also had to make it count. I needed to create an opening that I could take advantage of. 

With that in mind, I lunged backward away from Simon to create a little distance between us. Thankfully, the fact that Simon was busy showing off meant that he didn’t press me too much. He clearly thought that there was nothing I could do. And now I was (hopefully) going to make him choke on that assumption. That’s what I told myself, anyway. This whole thing reminded me of all the times I had wrestled with my brother. I hadn’t won any of those either. At least, not without cheating. 

So, cheating it was. With a blurted curse, I threw myself that way, letting loose with a completely wild punch that Simon easily evaded before pivoting back around to grab my arm so he could casually throw me to the ground. 

At least… that was what he attempted to do. But just as his hands closed on my arm, I painted it pink. The force of his grip made my arm completely collapse under his hands, squeezing out both sides of his tightened fists. It didn’t hurt, of course. But boy was it weird. Luckily, I had been ready for it. Simon, on the other hand, wasn’t. As my arm, bone and all, collapsed as though he had squeezed a large tube of toothpaste or frosting too hard, Simon made a noise of confusion. 

He had just enough time for his gaze to snap down to see what happened to my arm before I dismissed the paint early. Instantly, my arm snapped back to the way it should be, with enough force that Simon’s hands were snapped back away from me. And in that very instant, I painted almost my entire body green, save for purple on my fists. I thought about going with a bit of orange protection, but no, I needed every bit of speed I could get. I spent all the paint I had left in that moment to make myself as fast as possible. Then I lashed out with a punch. Even with that speed, Simon nearly avoided it. Not because he was anywhere near as fast as I was, not really. But because he was such a good fighter that he actually anticipated what was about to happen and was already moving almost before I did. His head twisted, but my fist was just a hair faster. Fast enough, in this case, to nail him right in the chin. It made his head snap back. My fist hurt after that, but I couldn’t think about it. I had to follow up. I only had seconds of speed. Eight now. Then I would be completely out, at least for a few seconds.

Simon still hadn’t recovered entirely from the force of his hands being thrust away from my arm. He was reeling backward thanks to a combination of that, and being punched in the chin. And I was already moving to follow up. With a grunt and lunge, I buried both fists into his stomach. The force staggered him, even as he dropped his hands to grab onto my shoulders. But again, I was still faster. Before he could finish grabbing me, I ducked and pivoted to get out from under his left arm. At the same time, I caught his extended wrist with my own left hand, and held it out to full extension while simultaneously lashing out with one foot to kick the back of his knee. As that buckled under the force of the blow thanks to my still slightly enhanced strength, I brought my right hand up to collide hard with the middle of his back. With his hand captured in my grip and his knee kicked out from under him, Simon couldn’t stop himself from falling face-first to the ground. 

The instant he was on the ground, before he could recover, I grabbed a set of handcuffs from my jumpsuit pocket, latching one side around the wrist I was still holding and the other around a nearby pipe that extended out from the building. They weren’t the special stay-down type, but at least they would hold him for a minute. 

A quick glance up showed that Murphy had managed to get Simon’s gun, the one I had kicked out of his hand, and was pointing it at Luciano while he lay on the ground. She was shaking a bit, staring intently down at him while keeping the pistol pointed that way. Immediately, I stumbled that way, the paint already wearing off. “Get him up, let’s go, let’s go!” I blurted. We had to hurry. I did not want to think about what would happen when Simon got out of that–

Something hit me in the back, colliding with enough force that I was sent sprawling to the ground. Nearby, I saw Murphy hit the pavement as well. And I also saw what had hit her. It was one of those silver cable things that Simon’s gloves could make. They were sort of like a mix between one of Silversmith’s constructs, and Whamline’s… lines. Either way, we had each been hit by one of them hard enough to knock us down. A second later, both lines grabbed onto the prone Luciano’s arms, yanking him up and away from us. 

With a blurted curse, I managed to jerk myself over onto my side and look that way. Sure enough, in those brief couple of seconds, Simon had already managed to free himself from the handcuffs. He was back on his feet and had used those cable things to knock both of us down and then yank Luciano over to him. He wrapped one cable tightly around the man and then extended his hand. Even as I shouted out for him to stop, my own voice lost in the furious scream from Murphy, Simon sent the other cable out toward the roof of a nearby building and let it yank him that way. Luciano was pulled after him. 

“Paintball, stop them! Stop him!” Murphy screamed at me, already scrambling to her feet. 

I tried, lunging up and extending my hand. Red paint. Just a little bit of red paint. Just enough to yank that guy away from my brother. It wouldn’t take much, right? I just needed a bit. But nothing came. It hadn’t been long enough yet, and I was still out of paint. 

Cursing, I shook my head. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t, I don’t have paint! I’m out!” 

An inarticulate bellow of rage escaped the other girl as she grabbed the pistol she had dropped and pointed it that way. She was about to start blindly firing after them when I grabbed her arm. “Stop!” 

“Get off me!” Murphy shoved me away, making me almost stumble and fall. “He’s not getting away!” She turned back, gun raised. But they were gone. Simon and Luciano had disappeared off the opposite side of the roof. Murphy, in turn, screamed out and pivoted to drop the gun. Her fist punched the wall, then she hit it again, and again. She was cursing and crying all at once, punching the wall repeatedly as she ranted about hating everyone and everything. With a choked sob, she collapsed to her knees and clutched her stomach. One hand yanked the mask off and dropped it before she doubled over and threw up. 

I stood there, staring, as Murphy fell onto her side, curling up in the fetal position while her entire body shook. She was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe, while a jumble of words that didn’t make a lot of sense escaped her. I can only catch some of it. She was saying something about McDonald’s, a bus, and a rehab center. She kept saying rehab over and over again, and clothes. No, close. She kept repeating ‘close, so close,’ and that she just wanted him to eat. She brought him food, she wanted him to eat. She wanted him to sit down. Something about laying on the couch. If he’d been laying on the couch, he wouldn’t have been hit. And that she was sorry. She was so sorry. All of that mixed into cursing about everyone she hated. At that moment, I was pretty sure I was on that list. Not that I blamed her. 

Looking around briefly, I took a seat next to her and was silent for the moment. I had no idea what to do, but I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone right then, even if I wasn’t the person she wanted to be with her. Swallowing hard, I reached out to touch her shoulder very gently. Immediately, she jerked away with a blurted curse. But I kept my hand there, shifting a bit closer. She stopped, slumping a bit more against the ground. All the energy seemed to have left her body. She was exhausted, having been running on fumes for a long time. Her rage was a fire that lit the fuel of her grief. And now the rage had run out. There was no more target for her to attack, so the anger had fallen away for the moment. The fire of rage was gone, leaving only the fuel of the grief. And the fumes of that were choking her. 

Scooting closer, I put my back to the wall and slipped an arm around the other girl, pulling her into an embrace. She didn’t fight it. Instead, the girl just leaned against me, shaking uncontrollably. 

“Gone,” Murphy finally murmured in a broken voice, once we had sat there like that for a couple minutes. “He’s gone. He’s gone.” 

I knew she wasn’t talking about Luciano. It was Tyson. Her brother was gone. He had been murdered in cold blood, and the man responsible had just gotten away. 

For now. 

“We’ll find the piece of shit,” I quietly assured her. “I promise. I swear, Murphy. We’ll find him. He won’t get away. We’ll find him.” 

Her head shook a little, as she made a noise deep in her throat that sounded like a cross between confusion and anger. Finally, she pulled back, staring at me. Without the mask, I could see the tears that ran freely down her face. “Who the fuck was that?! Who–what the fuck did that–what did he mean about paying a lot of money to make it his concern? W-was that a Sell-Touched? What was he–I never–who–” Her words were all jumbled together into a nearly incoherent ramble. But I understood. I knew what she was asking. She wanted to know who Simon was, where he had come from, and what that whole situation with Luciano ‘paying for protection’ was about. 

“Murphy,” I spoke quietly, my voice just the right tone to make her look at me, staring through the tears that had half-blinded her as I continued. “I think… I think we need to talk. 

“I need to tell you the truth about what happens in this city.” 

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  1. Okay then, uhhh, technically Cassidy won that fight, she just didn’t stick the landing. That’s something, right? Not really… helpful, but something. But hey, they just have to track this Luciano guy down later, that’s still doable. We’ll just have to see how that goes, eventually. But for now, if you’d like to use just a couple clicks to boost this story on Top Web Fiction, you can do so right right here! Thanks so much, and your tags are: Cassidy Evans, Eleanor Murphy, Honestly Winning A Fight By Grossing Him Out Is Probably Cassidy’s Go-To In Sibling Wrestling Matches, Luciano Munoz, Simon Evans, Simon Might Be A Bit Suspicious And Confused If Cassidy Decks Him The Next Time She Sees Him‚ But Boy Is It Tempting, Squire


  2. Will Cassidy get more and longer-lasting paint as she uses her powers, like exercising a muscle? Or maybe can she juice it, being extra-extra strong for a one or two second burst instead of extra strong for ten seconds? Can she adjust her pink paint so that things and/or people don’t snap back?

    Right now, her powers don’t have any way to take down someone who’s to tough to disable by slamming them into mundane objects, unless maybe she gets someone’s head between to panels of blue and concusses them to death, or blue’s the inside of their legs and rips them in half.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You mean any inherent-to-powers way. Would you really say “they dont have any way to do this” about someone non-powered or with a simpler power? Cassidy can use the stay-down cuffs, has access to Wren’s Touched-tech, etc etc etc.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Yup, her ahh… let’s say tank of paint has improved even now, compared to what it was when she first started. She has more to work with, and she’s started to be able to know ahead of time when she’s running out. Note how in this chapter she was aware that she was about to use the last of it, whereas before it caught her by surprise. 🙂 As for other bits about how it might improve, stay tuned!

      And sorry, I’m unsure what you mean by adjusting it so that things don’t snap back. If she ends the effect early, they get the bouncy/snapping result. If she doesn’t end it early, living things return to the way they were, but nonliving objects remain in the position she put them. That’s how she’s been able to pull up concrete or pieces of cars and wrap it around people to make them stay in one place until she lets them out (like she did to the bank robbers back in the parking lot).


      1. I guess I mean could she learn to maim someone with her pink paint by not having it snap back? Cause, that could be pretty useful against Pencil come the day. He’s only immune to things he’s done to other people. I doubt he’s turned them into Play-dough and left them in weird shapes … probably.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. It would be quite useful, though at the moment at least I’ve decided against it because I don’t want it to be quite that easy for her to do horrific damage to people. Little too simple for her to kill someone that way. 😉 Good thought though!


    3. She has been painting clothes for a while now. She could keep pre-painted suits for her minions they put on when going out.
      She could paint the inside of clothes some colors and the outsides other colors, and even do layers of paint she can burn later.
      She could also make projectile weapons using red and blue painted balls.

      Cassidy’ will be incredibly more dangerous when she starts preparing between fights.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Indeed. It’s been very tempting to move faster on that, but I want the growth to take its time so people can really appreciate when she starts doing more stuff like that.


  3. It doesn’t seem to make sense that a random low level gangbanger would pay enough not only for the “don’t interfere” treatment, but also for the gold star personal intervention if vigilantes show up tier. And they must have troops other than Simon that handle routine anti-vigilante assignments.

    Maybe Simon is scouting PB or was in the area or something?

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Have you ever considered publishing HE or SP on sites such as Royal Road? Feel like you could definitely reach a wider audience, HE in particular is the type of “progression fantasy” (defined as a category of fiction that focuses on characters increasing in power and skill over time) that Royal Road readers gobble up.

    Either way, love your writing, just wondered if you had ever considered publishing elsewhere, besides the main site here.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, glad you enjoy it! And I’ve thought about it a bit, but I’m not sure exactly how that works with rights and such and being in two different places. And… well, the idea of transferring the entire story this size over to another site is monumental. But hey, I suppose it would mean lots of updates, which would probably be good for attention. 😉

      But yeah, honestly that’s probably the biggest thing is the daunting amount of work it would be to transfer it.


      1. Royal Road is fine with series being on multiple sites so long as you can proof that you’re the original author, which is a rule in place to stop plagiarism.

        Figured it might be worth mentioning, uploading HE or SP to Royal Road that is. The original “era” of web serials in which stories were posted to their own exclusive site or blog is kinda dead, you’ll notice that even on topwebfiction the top stories tend to be Royal Road stories. And for the serials that have their own exclusive sites or blogs, those still get posted on Royal Road (e.g. Wandering Inn and Zombie Knight Saga).

        As for transferring it over, honestly the way I would do it is posting one or two arcs per week on Royal Road until it catches up to the main site. And yeah, you’re 100 percent right when you say it would be good for attention. Above all else, three things are king on Royal Road: progressional fantasy, fast pacing, and consistency.

        If you’ll forgive me for being presumptuous, I genuinely think it’s worth posting on Royal Road. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you could, at the very least, double or triple your readerbase. Maybe ask the people on the Discord for their opinions, too, if you’re unsure.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Thanks for the details, and the suggestion in general. 😀 I appreciate it for sure, and I’ll think on that a bit. Sounds like a fair idea, and you make a good point.


      3. And whereas when it started a few years ago Royal Roads’ contributions were mostly very amateurish fanfiction level of quality, now some really good authors and serials are posting, like D.D. Webb and Hungry (Katalepsis). – the quality has gone way up and you’d be in good company.

        I guess it’s the new webfictionguide.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. CTRL+F “yellow” > 0 results.

    Oh no. He’s faster than you? If only you had a perfect hard-counter to that problem, readily at your disposal. Man, that would be so convenient.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. This killed whatever enjoyment I might have got from reading that confrontation. Left with just frustrated exasperation.

      She only has 9 colors of paint. You can’t keep conveniently “forgetting” established tools in her toolbelt to force an outcome for plot reasons. It’s contrived. It’s inconsistent. It breaks immersion. It doesn’t make sense. It shatters your suspension of disbelief. It’s also just plain annoying as a reader.

      If something needs to happen for the plot, then that’s entirely fine. But consistency is far more important than a bit of railroading. Contrivances like this are one of the few things that actually get me to consider giving up on a novel entirely.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. She’s fighting in the moment, against her own brother for basically the first real time. Plus she knows Murphy is fighting someone else after just losing her brother and that’s distracting. Beyond that, she was intentionally trying to conserve paint at first, before using all the paint she had on speeding herself up.

        And the thing is, it worked. She locked him down with the handcuffs, he just happened to get out of it. Ten seconds of slowing him down wouldn’t have changed that outcome, assuming she used it to win the fight. Because she essentially *already* won their fight that way without using the yellow paint, he just… well, ‘cheated’ afterward to escape what he shouldn’t have been able to and used his gloves to escape with Luciano.

        My point is, she would have used the yellow paint to win the fight and then handcuff him, but she did win the fight without using it. Even if she had used it, there would have been basically no time left on it by the time she turned to go back to Murphy, so the end result still would have been basically the same.

        That said, if you have a different point of view on it as to why it would have changed things substantially for her to use the yellow paint, I’d be glad to hear. But I don’t *personally* think it’s the big mistake that you feel it is. To each their own however, I do apologize for disappointing you.


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