Lost Destinies

↳ 12: The Art Of Bringing Wrath Upon Your Enemies

She snapped the cap off a laser wand. "They all with you?"

Ramona confirmed this, and one by one they were made to step forward and reveal their wrists. The woman guarding the entrance lasered on some kind of stamp, which immediately vanished completely into their skin but would be made visible later if any of them needed to be identified. Proof that none of them had snuck in.

Bear's eyes were darting back and forth between the breadth of their surroundings as they stepped into the chaos of the convention, and it was chaotic, alright. The smells, sights, and sounds assaulted Ramona from all sides as she tried to focus on making sure everyone looked coordinated and not too nervous. Penny and Lindsay appeared bored at best, Claude was watching everything as hungrily as though he'd been presented with a stadium full of easy targets, Minerva had clearly been overtaken by a youthful curiosity but retained her air of slight scariness—which was good, today—and Bear... Bear appeared more conflicted than usual.

"That's a lot of villains," he murmured, taking it all in.

He was right, of course. There were stalls and booths galore advertising cursed amulets, deadly weapons and armor made of bones; one seller dressed all in dragons' hide claimed he could forge you a sword from the blood of your enemies; and witches, sorcerers, trickster fairies, brutish ogres, and sticky-fingered goblins alike roamed, all trying to one-up one another in evilness. From extravagant headdresses to powerful staffs to dramatic capes, everyone was trying to stand out.

The largest attractions, though, were the stages—enormous displays featuring famous villains that everyone was eager to meet. (Those that were still alive to show up, anyway.) The elusive Sea Witch with her twisted deals and admittedly impressive potions, that fairy fellow who called himself the Devil and was apparently still in the bad guy game, Dame Gothel and Frau Trude sitting around a fortune-telling cauldron, and of course, the Big Bad Wolf surrounded by copycats eager to meet their hero. However legendary he was, Ramona almost pitied him for how many had plagiarized his work. Truthfully, she'd only ever looked up to one villain, and she was unsurprised not to find her here. Baba Yaga had retired ages ago. The Devil should really consider the same, she mused. Trying to trick peasants into giving up their inheritances and cutting off girls' hands was so last century.

At the heart of it all was the main stage, elevated on a raised platform and featuring a black carpet and an enormous Blackhearts Crime Convention banner. The Black Apple Villainy logo was all over everything, from stall signs to doors to food and drink packaging to the uniforms of official staff lurking in the shadows to ensure that everything was going smoothly. A uniform that was deeply familiar. A uniform Ramona had worn as a teenage employee at this very convention at some other location years ago.

But this time she was here for herself. This time she could stand on her own two feet, no one to depend on for her own pay.

It wasn't easy living this way. But it was a hell of a lot more fun.

No-Name was here too. You could practically smell it in the air. Of course, Black Apple wouldn't have funding without them, so that was a given. Ramona caught it in shadowed glances and unmistakable tattoos—poisoned apples with knives through them. She would steer clear of them to avoid trouble.

"So," Ramona said finally. "Where do you want to go first?"

"We should split up if we want to have any chances of running into a member of the Alliance," Penny replied, and Ramona remembered with a sharp sting of annoyance that that was the real reason they were here, or at least in the eyes of the rest of the crew. "But maybe only partially. So none of us lose track of time. Or money."

"Those cursed amulets do look tempting," admitted Minerva.

Suddenly one of the hosts on the main stage tapped a microphone and boomed over the commotion. "WELCOME ALL THEE COLDHEARTED AND NASTY TO THE FORTY-SIXTH ANNUAL BLACKHEARTS CRIME CONVENTION, BROUGHT TO YOU BY BLACK APPLE VILLAINY!"