Search the Community

Well, this is a new story (I swear, I'm not abandoning any of my older stories! I just have bipolar mania, and when I'm manic my mind flits to other ideas, and I can't control where it goes.) set in Hong Kong in 1995 for...political reasons. This is about a granddaughter of the head of the Sun Yee On Triad who is a Red Pole (basically, a commander in the organization) who goes undercover in a high school to root out drug dealers. Things don't turn out well, even though she makes six new friends. As such, there's going to be heavy topics that I promise to warn you about. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Now, without further ado, let's get into the story (and I apologize in advance for the first chapter being shorter than others I've done): - Prologue: Lockpicks are a Girl's Best Friend - The early summer moon was beginning to rise in the sky over the Kowloon District of Hong Kong. It was the first day and night of St. Joan’s Secondary School, and Mandi Jiang couldn’t sleep in her dorm room - although, technically, she wasn’t supposed to be there because she was a year older than the oldest students at nineteen years of age, lying that she was two years younger. She was undercover for the Sun Yee On, one of the Triads of Hong Kong. The Mountain Master - her grandfather - had tasked the Red Pole commander with a mission that only she could do: infiltrate a school where opioids were being illicitly sold to teenagers, something that he absolutely refused to tolerate. To her grandfather, white collar crime - harmless vices - was the way of the future. Counterfeiting, money laundering, insurance fraud, stuff like that was acceptable. But a fair few of the Red Poles - the people in charge of the day-to-day parts of the Triad - still thought that the old ways of prostitution, drugs, and even human trafficking was quicker, cheaper, more lucrative. Even then he was lenient…so long as the victims were adults. He refused to allow children to be harmed by the Triads that were supposed to be quietly in the life of Hong Kong. Mandi stretched her tiny 121.92 cm. frame. Small though she may be, young though she may have been, she was respected and feared amongst the Red Poles, and not because of who her grandfather was; she was cunning, pragmatic, and ruthless toward her enemies. She was not known to police and the underworld as “Little Dragon” for nothing. Ironically, the police didn’t know her English name, and that was the saving grace of her being undercover. The school insisted on silly English names to differentiate the various girls who came from all over Hong Kong, from many different country backgrounds to this school. Not that she was a part of any school for very long, she mused as she curled a strand of wavy black hair away from eyes as dark as teak; she had dropped out at a young age…to be closer to her grandfather. He had probably secretly desired for her to be educated, to not be forced into crime like he was, but school bored her. What use was mathematics when she knew how to disassemble and reassemble mechanical devices as easy as breathing? What use was history to a woman who already had a body count of opposing Triads when she turned fifteen? Why should she care about making friends at school when none of them knew her for who she was? Of course, the typical male response was this: woman = housework. She sucked at housework. She could burn a simple seafood soup, she was more interested in taking the vacuum cleaner apart than actually vacuuming, and the only thing she bothered cleaning in a house was herself. And raising children? HAHA, no. But her grandfather never showed any disappointment towards her for the life she chose, so long as she was willing to accept it for everything it was. He loved her unconditionally, and she loved him with the same fervor, ever since… No, that’s in the past. Never look to the past when the present moment is there to be seized. Mandi looked out the window in boredom, and something immediately grabbed her attention: six silhouettes in the rock garden, clearly not supposed to be there. Well, looks like my job got a lot easier. I was supposed to just find out who the dealers are and report back to the Mountain Master, but if they’re right there, and I can catch them, easy. She snuck out of the dorm room with a gentle use of her trusty lockpick (never leave home without one…even if you’re undercover at a secondary school) unlocking the various doors in her way. Soon enough, she was in the rock garden, as well, close enough to see…six girls, all of whom were at the same school she was infiltrating, given the uniforms they were all wearing: an emerald-green blazer with ties signifying their ages (they were in the seventeen age-range, judging by the ties), white blouse, knee length black skirt, black dress shoes, and black tights. She could also tell that while they weren’t drug dealers (dealers wouldn’t be bitching about the day and which girls were acting like what bitches to each other): just clearly looking like they were troublemakers at heart…like herself. “Hey, you!” Mandi swore under her breath as one of the girls - clearly Chinese Uyghur - saw her, causing the other five to turn around and take in their breath. They all looked to be from different ethnicities, and she could tell from her first glance that their families had been as broken as hers was…before her grandfather stepped in. “I’m not here to bust you or whatever,” Mandi said calmly, stepping into the girls' sight. “Unless you happen to be dealers.” “What? Those assholes?” A Vietnamese girl was the speaker as she snorted contemptuously. “Nah, I wouldn’t touch what they’re selling with a twenty-meter pole - and you shouldn’t either.” “Fair enough. What are you doing here?” Mandi asked. “First, your name,” a Thai girl - one Mandi nailed down to be the leader of the group - snapped. “Mandi Jiang.” “Oh, the new girl!” a Cambodian girl said excitedly. “Hey, we don’t know anything about her!” the Thai girl protested. “If she’s out here, she’s liable to get in trouble like us,” a Hmong girl said. “How did you get out of the room?” a Burmese girl asked. “You’d need a-” “Lockpick?” Mandi finished, holding out her lockpick. “Come on, I’m not going to out you girls. I may be new, but I know when people are on the margins…like I was.” The Thai girl sighed. “Fine. I guess you could hang out here. Not much we do anyway aside from talking freely.” “Can I have your names, now that you have mine?” “Not the stupid English names,” the Vietnamese girl groaned. “I hate when they make us-” “Not that bullshit,” Mandi said bluntly. “Schools like this, they just want to get rid of culture. Personally, I prefer the English name I was given by my grandfather, but I won’t use the English names given by the school when you clearly prefer your own.” The Thai girl gave Mandi a smirk. “In that case, I’m Achara. Achara Noi. Call me ‘Angel’.” “Phượng Hà,” the Vietnamese girl said calmly. “Known to my friends as ‘Phoenix’.” “Veasna Keo, or, ‘Destiny’, if you’d prefer,” The Cambodian girl nodded her head. “Duabntxoo Fang,” the Hmong girl said quietly. “Shadow.” “Thang,” The Burmese girl shook Mandi’s hand. "These girls call me ‘Storm’.” “Aynur Cebrail, or rather, ‘Moonlight’,” the Uyghur girl introduced herself last. “Well, if we’re going by nicknames already…Dragon.” Mandi knew she was taking a risk revealing a bit of her identity…but she felt a kinship with these girls, as she forgot all about what she was going to ask and just…talking to them about the school, the other girls, everything except what she was here for. These girls are like me. Broken homes, awful parents, cast aside like they were nothing. Snap out of it, Mandi, an inner voice chided. You’ll forget them as soon as you’re done with this assignment. They’re younger than you, minors, kids. So was I when I joined. They’re…me. Me at a younger age. She knew that she shouldn’t think that way. She was ruthless to all, pragmatic, not prone to sentimentality with anyone but a few. So, why them all of a sudden? Why them? - Hope y'all enjoyed~

Well, I watched Deadpool & Wolverine...and I loved every moment of it. I also love The Boys for their gritty, somewhat, realistic take on superheroes. Along with the current situation and...real-life events, I think I'd try my hand at a superpowered individual adult baby story! There are also similar elements taken from The Handmaid's Tale and Dragon Age's mage situation (a very fun video game series). As such...a lot of mature themes will be in this story that, quite frankly, delve just as deep into the potential of a new Gilead, and the content warnings are as such. There is sexism by not only the men leading the country/world towards women - both trans and cis - but by the goddess towards men as well. It will be handled delicately, but at the same time, punches will not be pulled; to do that would disrespect everything that's happening in the world today. If you're still with me, I hope you enjoy this story~ - Chapter One: (Another) Brand-New Day. - “Wake up, lovelies! It’s time for a brand-new day.” The melodic feminine voice of Mommy snapped Kirsteen Calhoun’s - better known to all as “Chrissy” - eyes wide awake, peering at the room around her. Pastel pink was everywhere, the mobile hanging above her crib. She let out a yawn and rubbed her sage-green eyes with her mitten-clad hands, noting her pacifier falling from her mouth, the soft fuzziness of her pink-footed sleeper she was dressed in. Then crying echoed around the room, and she knew that some of the other fifteen-year-old girls in this place had realized that their diapers were utterly soiled. Of course, she knew that her diaper was far from clean as well, but she wasn’t going to cry like…them. She was a big girl, she could hold it in. She remembered…remembered a time where that would be unthinkable…but that time was when she had a male body, male expectations…none of which felt right to her, and those days were blurry, like a whisper in a fog, ghost-like and silent. She had been transformed on her tenth birthday, utterly transformed from boy to girl in her sleep. The Nullifiers came immediately after, took her away, sent her to one of the many Classrooms across the United Region of Biblical Interests…Urobi, for short. Thirty girls to a Classroom, basically an overgrown daycare and nursery for those girls who were Dicers, girls with supernatural powers, chosen by the roll of a dice. The Goddess had cursed them with it, they had learned; the Goddess, under a cruel whim, had decided to babify a third of girls around the world, take away their ability to control something a simple toddler could forever. This was a kindness, Mommy said, until they could grow up into big girls again. But Chrissy knew that something was missing, knew the story was just that: a story, only made to frighten little girls like her. Her powers weren’t fancy: she had the constantly active ability to discern anything, through walls, through different floors, even through the truths and lies of people themselves, but her powers, her curse, was efficient enough to know that something…something… Her brain wasn’t functioning again, and the uncomfortable squelch in her diaper told her she desperately needed a change, so she did the only thing she could: cry along with the twenty-nine other girls. A large group of adult women - the Aunties - then entered the room, all of them wearing floor-length dresses, some of them bearing the obvious baby bumps of pregnancy. Soon enough, Chrissy and the twenty-nine others (including her cribmate, a girl named Briar Droney) were quickly and expertly changed. An Auntie with her brown hair expertly braided in a bun (in contrast to Chrissy’s dark-brown pigtails with beautiful pink ribbons in pretty bows to pin them) put a bib on her before she realized that the morning bottle was next, filled with breast milk made by the numerous breeders. As she was wearing mittens, it was all but impossible to grasp the bottle, so the Auntie fed her. A large bit of the milk dribbled from her mouth to her bib, but she managed to finish it all. She could tell that the Auntie didn’t particularly care for the job, for her or any of the other girls. None of them did, really; it was just an upgrade compared to the rights of most women in Urobi. There was even something off about Mommy… Chrissy’s brain immediately became fuzzy again, as the big girl thoughts vanished, as she drummed her legs and squealed excitedly for the day to begin, not even caring about the spurt of pee that entered her very thick diaper, as the Auntie set her back into the crib. “Chrissy?” She turned around to see Briar again, talking to her, the brilliant green eyes of her cribmate complimenting her curly flaming-red hair. Even dressed as infantile as she was in a pink footed sleeper with a pacifier clip spelling out her name completed by a pacifier that stated “Princess”, the obvious thickness of the diaper around her big hips, her cribmate looked genuinely beautiful with a much bigger bust than hers (not that hers was small in the slightest), a nice butt (even if it was covered by a diaper), and a heart-shaped face with cute freckles. “You okay?” Briar asked in a pure Scottish drawl. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Chrissy mumbled in her own Irish brogue, while chewing on her pacifier, forcing herself not to blush. “I hope we all learn something today,” Briar said wistfully. “Like ABCs, 123s, and that stuff? Nah.” Chrissy knew - she knew she knew - that males were taught more than females, more than the stuff that girls, and especially Dicers, were taught…but what were they? What were they… “No. The story about…the Goddess.” The redhead had a dreamy look on her face. “You mean the bedtime story we’re read every night?” Chrissy rolled her eyes at the thought of it, the same stupid story that she knew wasn’t true. “A fairytale?” “Every fairytale’s based on something. I wanna learn more.” The two paused the conversation. It was the same conversation they always had when they woke up, always about learning something new, even when nothing new was really learned…but Briar was Chrissy’s only real friend. The other girls didn’t like her as much, she thought, as it was too easy for her to discern their true thoughts, if they were telling the truth or lying. Nobody liked having a living lie detector around them, nobody wanted their secrets spilled, and thus, trust and kindness was an option they couldn’t, no, wouldn’t afford her. Briar was different. She was the smartest girl Chrissy knew, but was fun-loving, hid nothing from anyone, and cared about everyone. And she didn’t treat Chrissy any differently because of her powers. Like everyone else. The other girls. The Aunties. Even Mommy… With those thoughts, she felt an Auntie pick her up and set her in a giant pink stroller with Briar, ready to be whisked away for a new day of learning. The hallways were that of a typical daycare for girls: pastel pink, with cutesy female human doll caricatures all around them. The strollers were fun and had nice toys to play with as the long stroll from nursery to daycare began. But there were no stuffed animals, nothing that could define anything other than humanity. Chrissy could remember having a stuffed animal a long time ago, but the animals - both stuffed and real - were all…gone, except for the usual hideously mutated farm animals that she had seen a few times outside of the walls - animals so horrifying that they weren’t even really animals to her, just…meat. What was the word…gone? No, not exactly right. Bye-bye? No, definitely not that. It started with an “e”. What were words that started with “e”...? What was “e”...? Her thoughts were quickly regressing into infancy again, and she let out a soft babble through her pacifier as she batted at one of the toys. Then Briar poked her. Gently, yet still a firm poke that brought her thoughts back to...well, not exactly adolescence, but close enough. “What did you poke me for?” Chrissy said with a slight pout, feeling her comforting pacifier fall out of her open mouth. “Because you look adorable,” Briar said, sticking her tongue out before she grabbed at her pacifier with both mitten-clad hands to put it back in - a skill that Chrissy had yet to master, as she realized that with another pout. Then the long hallway ended at a pair of barred doors, and the Classroom’s daycare began, the start of another brand-new day. - Hope you enjoyed~ I'll see when I can update this story, hopefully soon (as well as my, admittedly, numerous other projects).