You don’t really need security when you’re someone like Bramble. It probably couldn’t hurt, she’s certain, but when you have passive aggressive venus flytraps guarding the bathroom, it isn’t really necessary.

“They just have to get used to you”, he murmurs as he cuts one of the flytraps in question a piercing stare. After a moment of the world’s most intense staring contest, it droops considerably before it hands Mara back her tube of toothpaste.

When it slinks off around the corner, Mara says, “Thanks. But you think you could maybe get them to ease up a bit? I mean, what do you do when you have people over?”

“I never have people over.” Bramble leans against the kitchen island and pulls his long-flowing, sunshiney hair up into a tight bun.

Mara just hums to herself. She peels open a portal, tucks her toothpaste inside, and hops atop the island. “Well, with plants like these, I’d never have people over either. They could use some home training.” She then wavers, curiosity getting the best of her. “So what, you go to other people’s places when you wanna hang out?”

“I am single-handedly, without any outside resources, leading an investigation that could very well determine the future of Miracle City”, he counters, a clipped tone to his voice. He then allows his stare to drift to her, his eyebrows raised pointedly. “I don’t have time to ‘hang out’.”

After a moment’s silence to ponder just how depressing that sounds, Mara nods to herself before musing, “That’s funny. Seems like all we ever did in Calamity was hang out”.

“I suppose that’s why your fame doesn’t extend beyond Calamity.” He’s about to say something when he suddenly closes his mouth, his stare flickering to something behind her. Curious, she turns around and follows his line of sight to the big, boxy television set that resides in the living room.

The picture is full of static, the color dim, but the giant robot attacking downtown Calamity comes through clear as crystal. “Holy shit. Come on, we gotta go!” This could be it. Her chance to prove to Damian, to the Citadel, to everyone that ever doubted her that she can be just as good a superhero as anyone else. Quick as the wind, she leaps to her feet and brings her hands to dust the pizza crust and grape soda off herself. She adjusts the lavender facial mask that protects her identity, then breaks for the hall, a teleportation spell already brewing when a beanstalk erupts in the middle of her path.

“Not so fast, Jolly Roger”, Bramble grumbles. The beanstalk disappears back into the ground, and he pauses in its place. “Before anyone goes running off fighting anything, I need to run a few tests.”

Mara wavers, feeling not unlike a deflated whoopee cushion when she says, “Oh”. She then shakes her head at herself in reprimand before she turns a curious stare Bramble’s way. “Okay. What kind of tests? I’m fully licensed and certified if that’s what you’re wondering”.

“No, of course not, I ran a very thorough background check on you and your pet demon the day you arrived. It was very enlightening if you must know.” When Mara can only give a mildly affronted look, he passes his mug to a waiting vine, brushes off his hands, and walks down the hall to an evergreen door covered with hearts. He lifts a hand, and the vines peel away, to reveal a staircase covered in grass and weeds. He descends the steps, his voice echoing as he goes. “They’re just the standard tests. I need to see how you handle yourself in a fight.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Mara follows after him, idly noting that the hearts and feathers, while cute, seem to clash a bit with his overgrown forest aesthetic as they descend deeper and deeper into the mansion. Val must’ve forgotten to take them down when they were still together. “I guess that makes sense.”

Soon enough, they’re in a room that looks like it hasn’t been used in years. Thankfully, there’s no moss or any other type of fungi to be seen. But there are more than a few unfriendly-looking plants standing guard outside an office that overlooks a wide, spacious room below it. She muses to herself that the stuff here, brandishing that same pink color, seem more modern than anything else she’s seen in his house. Definitely Val’s handiwork. 

“If you could just head into the Training Room below, I’ll remain in the Observatory Deck”, Bramble muses. As Mara nods and teleports herself into the room, he rolls his eyes, fingers flying rapidly over the keyboard as the room whirs to life with a melodic chime. “We’re going to start with a simple power measurement. Now, I’ve seen you around the house, so I believe I have a pretty good idea of your present capabilities, but this will give us a more accurate-”

But Mara’s eyes have gone wide, panic pulsing through her when she shouts, “No!” When he just turns a curious stare upon her, she lets out an awkward laugh before wringing her hands together. “Sorry. That was, heh, louder than I meant. It’s just, uh…W-well, necromancy tends to show up kinda, well, kinda funny on power placements, s-so I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m a, I’m a Level One. So we can just skip right ahead to the next phase.”

“...All right, then.” Though his stare lingers for a few moments, Bramble does eventually glance away as he taps a few more keys. “I’m applying the lowest setting so don’t call for your dog. I’d like to get a good idea of your skills without any outside influence.”

Mara gives an enthusiastic salute, a sigh of relief escaping her at the sudden change in subject. “Will do!” With that, she widens her stance, hands glowing lavender as she watches the empty chamber with apprehension.

And then it begins. A hologram unfolds from the center of the room, a nondescript human being with bright, eclipse-like eyes. It charges towards her, and Mara hums, sidestepping it with a thoughtful frown. Necromancy doesn’t work too well with the unliving. She forgoes her spellbook as an idea dawns upon her. A smirk takes the place of her frown as she reaches for a bone in her sleeve and breaks it into pieces. The hologram lunges at her, and she ducks underneath it. When she emerges from her slide, she rises to her feet, tossing the pieces at the charging hologram’s feet. Within seconds, it’s been encased in a cage of bone. She turns to face the window and tosses up a pair of matching peace signs.

“Beginning Phase Two”, Bramble’s voice calls out over the intercom. The hologram disappears, and the floor caves in to allow two holographic robots take its place.

Mara’s smile never wavers, strong and confident as she forgoes her spellbook in favor of her scythe. Clenching it tightly, she hums to herself as the twin robots approach her on opposing sides. With a triumphant shout, she charges forward and swings her scythe through the projections with ease before they dissolve into a gentle green mist. She brings her scythe to rest against the ground, turns a proud smile up at the booth, and calls out, “Not bad, right?”

“We’re not finished yet. You seem good with improvising, so I’d like to see how you respond with the familiar.” His voice comes out as tired before the floor begins to peel open, a pink fog arising as it does so. “Phase Three will commence in five…four…three…”

With a determined nod, Mara cradles her scythe close to her, her confident smile slowly slipping from her face as the fog parts and reveals a grassy Decay. Her heartbeat slows, and the world seems to echo between her ears. She can hear Bramble calling out for her, but it all gives way to nothing because she only has eyes for a man by the name of Damian Davenport. Her sweet, courageous Damian.

The grassy figure strides forward, the gait just like his when it extends a hand. “My name is Decay, and I’ve come to save the day.”

It even sounds just like him. It takes a step closer to her, and Mara finds her heart in her throat well before it knocks her to the floor, green fangs bared as it inches closer to her. With a gasp, she lifts her arms in front of her face. A lavender glow surrounds the copy before it begins to decay, the grass and dandelions giving way until all that remains is a pile of ash. She sits there, chest heaving as she stares until the feel of a hand on her shoulder jolts her from her reverie. She jumps, eyes as wide as saucers when she whips her head around and finds Bramble standing before her.

“Whoa! Just me”, Bramble says, hands raised in self-defense before he takes a few steps back. When Mara just turns her face from him, lower lip drawn between her teeth as she clenches her skeleton pendant tightly between her fingers, he lets out a breath. “Are you all right? That last one seemed to really throw you off.”

A breathless huff escapes Mara before she accepts the extended hand he offers her. She tucks a lock of lavender hair behind her ear, letting out a shaky laugh as she comes to stand on her feet and answers, “Told you. I’m a Level One”. She then frowns and looks up at him. “How…how did you know Decay-”

“Like I said, I was very thorough. And I think a Level One is a severe underestimation. That was a grass dummy.” Mara just stares at him, not certain if that’s supposed to mean something. Seemingly aware of this, he rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I know that may not sound especially impressive, but I’ve been tinkering for years, and people have been trying for just as long. You took one out in just a few seconds. What do you call that?”

A moment passes before Mara shrugs, flipping up the hood of her cloak as she stalks back over to the entrance of the training chamber. “Beginner’s luck. If you even wanna call it that. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I froze out there. If that had been a real battle, I’d’ve been a pile of bones and ash.”

“Maybe. But I expect that from someone with your field experience. The damage you just did? Not so much”, Bramble says after a moment, falling silent as they ascend the steps back up to the control booth. It’s only when she pauses at the sight of another dummy, this one indistinct, that he lets out a sigh. “You’re a Level Three. Aren’t you?”

Silence stretches between them. Hands wrung before her, she lets her shoulders fall before she says, “I’m not”.

“But you are. I may not have much experience working with necromancers, but no one, regardless of their powerset, has that much power without a higher ranking to go with it.” He gives her a piercing look, as if daring her to refute him.

She simply purses her lips, wishing to be anywhere but here. This was easier with Damian. Oftentimes, he was too busy with himself to consider the fact that his partner was downplaying her strengths. “Look, does it really matter what my ranking is? With dummies like those, it’s not like you’re gonna really need me.”

“...Tombs, this is only going to work so long as you’re honest with me”, Bramble says after a moment, and the frustration that she’s grown accustomed to over the past few days is missing. In its place, there stands a mere curiosity. “Not about everything, I expect there to be some things you wish to keep to yourself. But some things, naturally, I think are important to share.”

A long moment stretches between them, Mara pressing her lips tightly together before she finally says, “All right. I’m a Level Two”. At his doubtful stare, she shrugs. “Last I checked anyway. I haven’t had a measurement since I graduated.”

“If you say so.” He looks at her for a long moment, eyeing her as if to say she knows that wasn’t what he meant, but thankfully, he doesn’t press further. “Just don’t waste my time, okay? I think we’re more or less evenly matched.” He frowns here. “You’re creative with your powers, but I get the sense you’re holding back.”

Mara just blinks. Not out of surprise. For all the effort it takes to maintain control, she’s very much aware. No, it’s more so his disapproval that shocks her. Everyone else always seems to want her to hold back more. “Necromancy tends to put people on edge. I can’t change that or that it’s my power, but I can change how I use it.”

“Power suppression of any sort rarely works out well for anyone”, Bramble mutters. He stares at her for a long moment. “If the Citadel knew the kind of power you had, maybe they wouldn’t be so hard on you.”

A mirthless huff escapes Mara. She shakes her head before responding, “Or they might’ve revoked my license and forbid me from ever operating as a superhero ever again”. When the silence grows uncomfortable, Mara clears her throat before casting a stare his way, a reassuring smile gracing her lips. “So. You ran your tests, you got your measurements. What comes next?”

“...Next? Next, we go on patrol.” His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Don’t embarrass me.”

A shit-eating grin stretches across her lips as she fist-pumps the air. “I make no promises.”