So here I am. Six years old.
Old enough to use a tablet and do a little at-home chemistry.
Today's hypothesis: Will arsenic and beer kill a superhero known for his invulnerability?
At this point I've pretty much confirmed that mommy dearest can see about a minute into the future, less if she's engaged in combat, what with all the other brain functions trying to keep her alive and such.
So step one of the experiment is setting up the parameters far in advance.
Our kitchen has two refrigerators, one for alcohol and a disturbing amount of frozen meat, and one for healthy foods, vegetables, yogurt, and vegan "meat".
Guess which one is Dad's.
So while Kora is distracted with Fiona - who has taken to ponies like a horsefly - I quickly open the meat and alcohol fridge, looking for my target: A half-drunk can of Palwiser Select 2000.
Could he be even more of a redneck? Crusader billed himself as a "Good Southern Boy" (Trademarked) with a winning smile and no vices. What he really is is the foremost product of mass market appeal, focus groups, and a media apparatus more than willing to cooperate with the government in hiding his less-than-heroic actions.
Take, for example, my death. All that power behind Crusader went into overdrive, making my death seem like a hapless accident while trying to escape after losing a battle with them.
As if I, The Engineer had somehow forgotten how to fly instead of having my feet sawed off by goddamn laser vision.
I scowl as I extract the can and make for the underside of the kitchen sink. We'll see how well Asshole flies with a gut full of poison. The ages-old rat poison had congealed into a single, solid mass, so it took me a few tense seconds to crush enough of it with the sink plunger's handle. Half the time I wasted was hopping upwards to see if Kora had remembered I existed while she was singing along with Fiona.
Thankfully, in short order, I was gingerly using an improvised funnel made of paper towels to pour the tenth ounce or so of powdered death into Asshole's drink of choice. With that accomplished, I chucked the towel and closed the drawer, swirling the beer as I turned to the fri-
"Hey," Kora said gently as she came around the kitchen island. "You didn't drink any of that, did you?"
Feigning innocence, I gave her a slightly frowny look. "Mom says it's poison. I wanted to see what kind."
"The kind that helps you make bad decisions. So you didn't try any?" I shook my head at her. "Good. I'd get fired for sure if I touched your dad's stuff. Give it here." Kora reached out her hand. Reluctantly, I handed her the can and she put it back in the fridge for me, on the top shelf and out of my reach. "Let's just keep this between us, okay little genius?"
I was then picked up with ceremony, comprised of Kora blowing on my belly as her cheeks expanded to full inflation. Try as I might to resist it, I laughed, because to do that to me she dug her fingers into my ribs.
Curse this ticklish body!
I was then taken to the couch and sat down to watch a bunch of goofy-looking ponies blather on about the power of friendship and love. The only thing I could think about that was worth a damn from the show was how to disillusion Fiona against that nonsense.
Maybe I would write a book...
Chapter 1: How I Defeated Assholes With the Power of Love.
The first step in my journey was discovering assholes can't be defeated with the power of love.
Chapters 2-50: The Power of Fantastic Violence and/or Poison.
The boredom was what prompted me to ask Kora, "Can you teach me child psychology?"
"For real?" She looked down at her laptop. "Are you sure you'll understand some of the big words?"
I nodded. "I read the dictionary once when I was bored." In my past life, that is. I was a vociferously erudite little terror with the English language at age ten. My moms promised me fifty dollars if I stuck with it, and that fifty dollars became the seed for my first invention: an 80% effective solar panel that I installed on the roof. It worked quite well... until it exploded during the next hailstorm. By then my moms had saved 200 bucks on electricity, so they weren't too angry at me.
Child psychology, it turned out, was quite interesting. And the more Kora read her thesis, which sadly omitted my and my sister's names even though it was obvious who her observation subjects were, the more I thought there was a good deal of merit to her findings.
I asked her a few questions, which caused her to look at me and say "Whoah, Ash, you sound like a professor I need to defend my thesis against."
"A good weapon and some armor would make a pretty good defense," I said. If I wanted to study something as every-day as Child Psychology, I'd need to take a minor in Pain just to stay sane.
Kora laughed. "You're going to be a tiny terror all the way to hero school, aren't you?"
I twirled some of my read hair on my finger and smiled back, "You have no idea." I let out a cackle, right as Asshole and Destiny landed on the garden platform right outside.
From what I could tell, Destiny's outfit was stained with a spatter of blood, while Asshole's boots were caked with it.
As soon as Destiny stomped in ahead of her husband - who paused to take off his shoes - Fiona shouted "Mo~m! Aislin was making evil laughs again!"
"Not now, sweetie," Destiny said, before turning to Kora. "I'll send a bit of extra to your account. Please don't talk about this." She gestured at the blood on herself.
"My lips are sealed," Kora mimed zipping her lips, which were covered in glossy black lipstick.
Destiny brought out her cell phone and pulled up a banking app before flicking a payment Kora's way. "Thank you. I need a shower."
As Destiny disappeared into the master bedroom, Asshole made his way inside, all smiles for the babysitter.
"How were the kids?" he asked as Fiona loudly exclaimed "Daddy!" as she latched herself to his leg.
"They were a blast! Ash even helped me with my thesis."
"Oh she did, did she?" he petted Fiona on the head. "Maybe she already has her Talent then," he chuckled.
I shrugged noncomittally. This was how the routine went. In the presence of visitors, Asshole would always make one attempt to seem like a good dad, using me, then revert back to his true self once said visitors left.
A true self that used the threat of "spankings" against me on a bi-weekly basis. I was fully cognizant that the man had no control over his strength when angered. A spanking from him would only need one slap to break my spine, if not kill me outright.
In short order, Kora was all packed up, giving me and my sister hugs before she entered the elevator heading down.
"Ugh, I need a drink," Asshole relaxed his posture and made for the fridge.