Chapter Text
"Hey, your daughter's on."
Marquis put down his book and turned to the television. Sure enough, his daughter Amoeba was present, giving an interview on the news. He drank in the sight of his daughter, looking much happier than she usually appeared on the news. Usually there were bags under her exhausted eyes as she took the weight of the world onto herself; he was truly glad to see her doing better.
"So what made you ask to come on today? You're normally not very eager for media attention, what changed?"
"Well, I recently found out that I can do whatever the fuck I want and nobody will do shit about it. Like, this is live, right? Well, I snuck in and fried the machine that does the censor bleeps, so I can swear all I want. Look, your guy's got his hand on the fucking button and no bleeps. What are you gonna do about it? Nothing, right?"
"I... Suppose not. With all that you've done for the world, it would hardly be fair to condemn you for something so small."
Marquis blinked. He was glad his daughter had become aware of the doors her reputation could open. This was a rather... blunt way of leveraging it, however.
"Exactly. Piggot said I could publicly make out with my sister while simultaneously biotinkering and human mastering and anyone who tried to arrest me for it would still be laughed out of the room."
"...That's Director Emily Piggot, of PRT East-Northeast?"
"Yeah, her. Wanna see me prove her right?"
"I'm... Sorry?"
"I forgive you. Okay, Vicky, open the bag. See, in this bag I've got a nazi that I kidnapped. Name's, uh, Kroog? ...Krieg, thanks Vicky. So what I'm gonna do is I'm gonna turn Kroog here into a Jewish lesbian of color. With autism. Aaaaand cmere Vicky."
Marquis watched, his book forgotten on the floor, as his daughter vigorously made out with her sister while turning a nazi into everything it once hated, in body and mind, on national television, and got away with it.
"Huh. Good for her."
The other Birdcage inmates would never let him live it down, of course, but his daughter's happiness was more important to him.
Another inmate spoke up. "Her sister can go fuck herself for putting me in here, but nobody fucks with the white mage. Good to see she's finally learned all the sheep are beneath her."
"Crudely put, but accurate." Shadow Stalker really should have been in one of the women's cell blocks, but according to the women, she "didn't count".
Just then, a girl flanked by three silhouetted figures entered the room, demonstrating the other exception to the segregated cell blocks - those who were powerful enough to simply go where they wanted. "I'm going to the store, you want anything?"
-----
"Good morning Amy, I've baked you a Gamer's Delight!"
It was an abomination of a pie, acidic green and flavored with mountain dew. It was Amy's greatest shame that she actually liked it. Even now that she had-
Oh. Right. She'd made out with her sister on national television because she was drunk on lack of consequences.
Thanking Carol for the pie, Amy began to eat and think. She probably shouldn't have done that. That was just sort of axiomatic to her belief system, that certain things were Secret. But after she'd been caught yesterday, she'd just sort of... thrown that out, for a while. And now she'd have to just... hope Piggot had been right about the lack of consequences.
"Oh, by the way, you got a letter from your father."
Amy froze. That didn't make sense.
"Why would Dad send me a letter instead of just talking or, like, texting me? Unless you mean... Danny? Cause I am not calling him that."
"No, your birth father."
Amy processed that for a moment.
"Wait, Marquis is real??? I thought he'd just changed his name to Mark E when he married you!"
Carol gave her a befuddled look, at that. "Did... Did you think your adoptive father, Mark, was the same person as your birth father, Marquis, just because his middle initial is E?"
"Yes???"
"Your adoptive father who has powers which are distinctly not bone-related???"
"Second triggers are a thing!!!"
"Second triggers don't change your power to something completely unrelated to your original power!"
"Yeah, well... Wait. If Marquis is real, doesn't that also mean he's actually in the birdcage instead of having escaped and changed his name and identity to hide his tracks?"
"...Yes."
"So how did he send me a letter?????"
"He got the Ferry Queen to ferry it out for him, of course. Here, just... read it."
-----
Dearest Amoeba,
It is my greatest regret that I have not been there to raise you, to be a father to you. The temptation in recent times to simply ask Ciara to bring me to you has been great, but rest assured I will only do so if you request it. It has been painful, staying away, but I know you value the life you have now, and I would not disrupt that, for your happiness is more important to me than mine, even if I am not the one to give it to you.
And I am gladdened to see that happiness truly ignited at last. For so long you have been miserable in each of your appearances, and had it gone on much longer I certainly would have given in to temptation and barged in to do whatever I could to make a change for you. But the light in your eyes as you kissed your sister was truly wonderful to behold. I want you to know that I do not condemn you for it - there are few closer than sisters, and so it is no great surprise that you would find more than one kind of love in that quarter.
Were I to allow myself, Amoeba, I fear this letter would never be sent, for I would never run out of things to put into it. But Ciara grows impatient, and so I shall restrain myself to this. I am happy for you, Amoeba, and should you wish for me to be a part of your life I will support you to my last breath.
Your father,
Marquis
-----
"My full name is Amoeba???"