Alea Iacta Est - a Worm AU Fanfic

[Prince Charon]

Our dice drop to the ground so often when we play, everyone has been touching them. We've got one big box of dice the players all use anyway.

Click to shrink...

One of the big downsides of game systems like HERO or Storyteller: (many) more dice to drop.

 

[Starfox5]

One of the big downsides of game systems like HERO or Storyteller: (many) more dice to drop.

Click to shrink...

Or Shadowrun. 20d6 easily for a check.

 

[pepperjack]

Mythender may have all of these beat.

 

[doomlord9]

I dunno about you but playing the DBZ RPG and having a dick GM tell you that rather than roll 15d6 and the multiply by 10, he requires you to roll all 150d6 separately kinda kills what little enthusiasm you had for the game.

Yes, the RPG sticks close to the source material and gets pretty stupid with the numbers pretty fast.

 

[seeing_octarine]

Handling ridiculous numbers of dice rolls is what we invented computers for, I'm pretty sure.

 

[tertius]

Handling ridiculous numbers of dice rolls is what we invented computers for, I'm pretty sure.

Click to shrink...

Indeed. But why stop at simulating the dice?

 

[```]

 

[Ack]

Currently working on Part 4; here's the updated section from part 3.

Sophia Hess leaned back in her chair at the Wards monitor station; part of her attention was on the screens before her, but mainly she was intent on her phone.

• can't believe they let us have our phones back. That was Madison.
  
  
• Yeah, I know, right? But whats with Emma?
  
  
• Dunno. She hasnt talked to me either.

Sophia frowned. Better clear your phone. Wipe all those texts about Hebert.

• Wipe everything? She thought she detected a tone of doubt in the letters on the screen.
  
  
• Fuck yes everything. If they get her phone but ours are clear, they cant prove shit. All we have to do is say we dont know anything about it.
  
  
• Crap. I got some good pics too.
  
  
• Wipe them as well. She shook her head. Dumbass, she thought but did not type. Everything.
  
  
• Okay ill do it now.

"Sophia."

The voice behind her was mild, but she still whirled around, screening her phone with her hand. "Christ, Aegis. Did you want to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry. He looked like he was secretly pleased with himself for making her jump. She suspected that he'd flown up behind her so as not to make any noise. "The Director wants to see you."

She made a rude noise. "What's Miss Piggy want now?"

He frowned. "You're on shaky ground as it is, Sophia. I wouldn't get in the habit of saying things like that. It's disrespectful to a woman who's put her all into leading the PRT here for the last ten years."

"Can't have been," she snarked. "If she'd put her all into it, the Empire Eighty-Eight and the ABB'd be all behind bars, and the Merchants would be selling souvenirs down on the Boardwalk."

"Sophia." There was a warning tone in his voice now. "I know you're going through a difficult time. That's why I asked you to not disparage Director Piggot. Now I'm telling you."

"Or what?" she challenged him. "You'll report me?"

He met her gaze steadily. "Yes. I will. If you keep going the way you are."

She glared back at him for a long moment. "Fine. What does Her Highness Madame Piggot the Director want from me?"

"For you to go to Conference Room Six, up on -"

"I know where ConSix is," she interrupted him. "I've been here six months, not six days."

<><>​

"Well, Corporal McKenzie's waiting outside to escort you there anyway," Aegis told her.

Predictably, she grimaced. "I just told you, I know my way around. I don't need a nursemaid. For fuck's sake, I was on my own for more than a year before I joined the Wards!"

"Not my call." He took refuge in bluntness. "But you are currently in the shit, so I'd suggest that you don't kick up too much trouble. Just let the corporal escort you to where you need to be, and make it at least look like you're cooperating. Okay?"

Again, she glared at him. "Fine." Turning back to the monitor console, she picked up her mask and put it on. "Someone better take over from me. Wouldn't want the console to be unmanned."

"I'll take care of it," Aegis assured her. He watched her head over to the doors and slap the contact panel. They hummed open, then shut solidly behind her.

"Wow, what's going on?" asked Vista; she was sitting at one of the tables, playing cards with Clockblocker.

"I'll explain on the way; you're coming with me." He headed for the doors.

"What?" exclaimed Clockblocker, as she got up from the table. "I had a killer hand, too."

"Which reminds me," Aegis noted, turning back toward Clockblocker. "You're on monitor duty till I get back."

"Aw, man," complained the white-clad teen. "I just got off monitor duty when Sophia got here." But he got up anyway and headed over to the console.

"I'll make it up to you," Aegis promised, slapping the contact panel. "Come on, Vista. We haven't got much time."

"But where are we going?"

He grinned. "You'll see."

<><>​

Corporal McKenzie seemed to be a typical stolid PRT guard; he escorted her into the lift then stood, watching the doors as it ascended. I haven't got much time. Behind his back, Sophia slid her phone out, and scrolled through the options until she reached 'factory reset'.

The lift came to a halt, and the corporal turned to her. "Shadow Stalker, down this way please."

"Coming, coming." She pressed the button to go ahead with the factory reset, then shut the phone down and replaced it in her belt pouch. Now read anything off of it.

With a lighter step – a weight taken off of her shoulders, if not a lighter conscience – she strode along the corridor, ignoring Corporal McKenzie's directions, until she came to the door in question. He went to open it for her; she darted forward and grabbed the handle first, turning it and pushing the door open.

Conference Room Six was on a corner of the building; floor to ceiling windows dominated two walls. She entered, then stopped short when she saw who was waiting for her. Behind her, Corporal McKenzie stopped at the door.

"What's going on here?" she demanded. "I've been on monitor duty for the last week, with no-one telling me nothing, and now this?" She turned to Director Piggot, sitting next to Deputy Director Renick at the head of the table. "You brought my mother in on this?"

"I contacted her, Shadow Stalker," Renick informed her firmly. "She chose to attend. Come in and sit down, please."

She didn't really have much of a choice; the guard behind her was blocking the doorway, and she was pretty sure that the repercussions would be a little more stringent than a week of monitor duty if she cut and ran, now. Bluff and deny. They can't prove anything really bad against me. And I just wiped my phone, so that's off my back as well.

"Fine." She walked down the length of the table, her mother watching her with worried eyes, past the PRT twit who was supposed to be her minder, past Triumph. There was a chair set up between her mother and the PRT drone, with her back to the windows, but she grabbed another one from where it sat against the wall, and pulled it into position at the far end of the table from Pig-oh. Pulling her cloak into position, she seated herself, then rested her elbows on the table and stared up its length at the Director. "So let's talk," she invited.

The Pigmeister looked as though she'd been sucking on a lemon, which didn't change matters very much, in Sophia's opinion. "Shadow Stalker," she began. "Last week, you were caught attempting to force a girl into her locker, said locker containing a significant amount of biohazard waste. Caught by the victim's father, and the principal. What do you say to that?"

"It was a prank," Sophia explained, her voice earnest. "You know, pranks? Funny stuff?" Sense of humour? Oh wait, you had yours surgically removed. To make way for all the fat.

"It was anything but a prank," Renick declared, tapping a sheaf of papers in front of him. "The material in her locker was tested, and found to be highly toxic. Had she gotten it into any cuts, there would have been a significant chance of infection. Serious infection."

Sophia gestured airily. "Hey. Not my problem what Hebert chooses to keep in her locker."

"So this is your contention, that the Hebert girl had somehow emptied the contents of no less than three biohazard containers into her locker, sometime over the Christmas break." This was Piggot again, putting her oar in.

"Well, how else would it have gotten in there?" asked Sophia. "And before you ask me why she would've done it, who knows? She's a loner weirdo freak."

"Well, here's the thing," Renick stated. "We have a large amount of material from Taylor Hebert, dating from before this incident, accusing you, one Emma Barnes, and a Madison Clements, of many more bullying activities. Now, we know that you have a connection with Ms Barnes through her father, and anecdotal evidence has you being friends with both girls at Winslow. Do you deny that you know both of them well?"

"Oh, I know 'em," Sophia agreed. "But any accusations are bullshit. She probably wrote that shit up over Christmas after filling her locker full of shit, just so that she could point the finger at us and say that we did it."

"True," Piggot agreed. "She could have. This is a valid point." She paused, just long enough for Sophia to begin to relax. "Shadow Stalker, please pass me your phone."

"What?"

"Your cell phone. You carry it in costume. Pass it to me. Now."

All of a sudden, Pig-oh didn't seem so useless and flabby any more. Her eyes bored into Sophia's. Sophia pulled out the work phone and skidded it down the table. "Here you go."

Piggot captured it with her hand without looking. "Now your other one."

"What?" Apprehension washed through Sophia, despite the fact that she'd just cleared it. Can't be seen to be giving up too easily. "No way. That's my private, personal phone. You can't touch that."

Piggot slapped a sheet of paper on to the table. "This outlines my duties and capabilities as Director of this branch of the PRT. You will find that I most certainly can confiscate and examine any item that you carry as part of your costume. If you have that phone on you right now, pass it down to me." Her voice took on a harsher note. "Or I can have you searched. Whichever you prefer."

Sophia's doubts that Piggot would do such a thing were rapidly fading. "Okay, fine."

Piggot didn't let up on her. "I will give you fair warning. We will be searching both phones for any evidence of bullying activity regarding the Hebert girl."

Carelessly, Sophia shrugged, as she got the phone out. "Won't find anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Piggot indicated Armsmaster and Kid Win. "Our resident Tinkers seem to think that they can dig out the most buried data on a phone, even information that's supposedly been wiped."

Oh shit. Chris is a dweeb, but he's a smart dweeb. And Armsmaster's been doing this as long as I've been alive. Fuck, I should have lost the phone. Destroyed it. At least removed the SIM.

She paused, juggling the phone as she thought rapidly. "Look, can I just -"

"No." The word was final. "You can't just anything. Interfere with that phone in any way, and I will be forced to presume that you are destroying evidence."

She tried to force an embarrassed expression; it didn't seem to be working. "Look, there's stuff I've got on there. Delicate stuff. Selfies and stuff like that. Pics of me pretending to make out with other girls. Stuff I don't want anyone seeing. I've just got to delete that stuff, all right?"

"No, it is not all right. Triumph, confiscate Shadow Stalker's phone and bring it to me. Immediately."

Rory got up and moved down toward her. "Sophia, hand it over. Don't make this hard on yourself."

Jumping up, Sophia backed off, her cell-phone behind her back. "Get away from me. They're trying to railroad me, can't you see that?"

"Sophia, I just want to sort this out." Triumph came closer, his hand out. "This doesn't have to get any worse. Give me the phone."

Sophia brought the phone around in front of her, made as if to hand it over, but pulled it back at the last moment. Triumph advanced on her; she jumped back, going to shadow for a moment, and reforming in the corner of the room, where two windows met.

"You realise, the more we dance around like this, the worse it looks for you," Triumph pointed out. "You really want Kid Win and Armsmaster looking at your selfies?"

"Well, fuck you, and fuck Kid Win," she spat. Turning to the window, she went to shadow and stuck her hand through the glass, then let the phone go. Pulling her hand back again, she resumed normal form. "Whoops, I accidentally dropped it. Sorry about that." It was a long way to the pavement; she wasn't quite sure if the phone would turn solid first, and shatter into a million pieces, or if it would carry on into the concrete and be lost forever. Either way, there's no way they'll find the SIM.

Triumph advanced on her, what little she could see of his face was set in grim lines. "Sophia, that was monumentally stupid. Hold out your arms. I want to check your pouches."

"Sure. Want me to bend and spread 'em, too?" She knew that she was still in trouble, but without the phone, they had no real evidence against her. I'll just have to keep my nose clean for a while …

"No. Just the pouches." He delved into each of the pouches, then turned to the Director. "She dropped it all right, ma'am."

"Very well," the Director responded. "Be seated, the both of you." She seemed remarkably calm, considering that Sophia had just put one over on her. "Shadow Stalker, you've just proven that you can't be trusted in this matter."

"So I texted Emma and Madison a few times. So what?" Sophia shrugged. "Doesn't mean we conspired against Hebert."

Renick leaned forward. "The information we've been given indicates otherwise."

"But it's her word against mine. Mine, Emma's and Madison's. Plus any number of other people. Or don't eyewitness accounts matter here?"

"Given that several people just saw you throw your phone away to avoid it being examined for evidence, I would say that they do," Piggot noted.

"There was nothing on that phone that was illegal, and you can't prove that there was," Sophia stated flatly. "Burden of proof is on you, not me."

"So, about that," Aegis announced, opening the door and entering. "One phone, in good condition, Director." He strolled over to where Piggot sat, and handed her a phone; Sophia identified it, to her growing consternation, as the one that she had just dropped out the window.

"Well done, Aegis," Renick praised him. "You had no trouble catching it?"

"A little," admitted the Ward. "Needed some tricky work by Vista to make sure it didn't fall through the pavement, but I managed to catch it without breaking it. Screen's cracked a little, but it seems to be working fine otherwise."

"What the fuck?" blurted Shadow Stalker. "What the actual fuck? You fucking set me up?"

"No, you set yourself up," Triumph snapped. "We just let you do it. If you'd handed your phone over to start with … "

"No!" screamed Sophia. "No fucking way! You don't beat me! I don't lose!" She launched herself forward along the length of the table, going to shadow, reaching for the phone …

… and the Director lifted a taser from under the table, and shot her with it, at point-blank range. The charge from the batteries grounded through her immaterial form, and she turned solid, juddering with the shock. Vaguely she was aware of being bundled from the table, and her arms being secured together.

<><>​

When she came back to herself, she was seated between her mother and the PRT twit. The PRT guard was standing behind her chair. Aegis was sitting where she had been. Her mother was looking at her with a mixture of pity and resignation on her face. Sophia hated that look. Her phone was still sitting on the table; Armsmaster and Kid Win were no longer in the room. Her wrists were fastened together in front of her, with high-tech cuffs; they were humming slightly. She didn't need to guess what they did.

"What …?" she mumbled, gesturing at the phone.

"Oh, are you wondering why we aren't opening up your phone and having a good look at all your dirty secrets?" asked the Director. "It's because we already have."

Sophia blinked. "... uh?"

Piggot sighed. "We looked into your phone, and the other two girls', when they were first confiscated, a week ago. We got all the text messages."

This wasn't adding up. "Madison -"

"- never got her phone back. We've had a police officer answering your texts. This has all been a sting with a single, solitary aim in mind."

Her head was clearing; when she spoke, her voice was bitter. "To entrap me."

"No." Renick's tone was firm. "To give you a chance to give yourself up. To see if you were salvageable. I talked the Director into it -"

" - against my better judgement, I must say," muttered Piggot.

"- but between us, we chose to allow you a week to come to your senses, to confess what you'd done, to accept your punishment."

Sophia shook her head. "So wait, you've sharpened the axe, and you were waiting on me to put my head under it? Fuck that."

"Well, it was either administrative punishment, if you had confessed before we faced you with it, or back to juvenile detention," Renick stated. "This little charade today was intended to make you jump, one way or the other." His tone was regretful. "It looks like you made your choice, sorry to say."

Director Piggot raised her head. "Wards do not act in this way, not on my watch. Your probation has been violated, and you will be going back to juvenile detention."

Sophia shook her head. "No."

Renick raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I think the word is 'yes'. Because we can."

"No," repeated Sophia. "I didn't do it as Shadow Stalker. I did it as Sophia Hess. You can't violate my probation on that."

"A legal fiction," Renick stated. "You did it; whether you did it as Shadow Stalker or as Sophia Hess is beyond the point."

"No, actually, there is a legal separation," the Director corrected him. "I wanted to be sure about this, so I looked it up. The only way we can prove that she did this as Shadow Stalker would be if she used her powers to do it. It's to do with the 'use of powers in the commission of a crime' clause."

"Well then, I didn't," Sophia declared. "Easy, done."

"Indeed?" queried Piggot. "So how exactly did you get all that toxic waste into her locker?"

Sophia saw the trap coming, and thought fast. "Opened her locker. Put the stuff in. Closed the locker."

"That would've been difficult at the best of times," Renick objected. "To leave nothing lying around … "

"We cleaned up, after. It's how we did it."

"So, you opened the locker. Not Ms Barnes, not Ms Clements. You." Piggot's voice was intent.

Sophia nodded. "Yeah. Me."

"Very well, what was the combination?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question. What was the combination?"

Sophia felt herself trapped. "I … uh, I don't remember."

"Well, you obviously went to the lengths to find it out, so that you could remember it at the time," Piggot pointed out, almost reasonably for her. "And now you're going to tell me that you've forgotten it in the meantime? If I had Ms Barnes or Ms Clements questioned over this, would they also say that you opened the locker, using the combination? Would they be likely to remember the combination that you used?" Her voice rose to a shout at the end. "Or would they simply state that you used your powers?"

She glared at Shadow Stalker. "Your life is going to be investigated. Every last bit of it. We will be prosecuting you. You will be going to juvenile detention." A gesture. "Take her away."

The last thing she saw as Corporal McKenzie lifted her from her chair and marched her from the room was her mother's look of pity.

She hated that.

<><>​

Lunch break at Arcadia was a more pleasant affair than at Winslow. Taylor had retrieved her box lunch, gotten a bottle of fruit juice from a vending machine, and met up with Annette. The redhead had promptly decided that they'd eat outside, so they found a free table. Despite the time of year, the sun was pleasantly warm. While Taylor started on her lunch, Annette began searching through her backpack.

"Annette's an interesting name," Taylor commented idly. "How did you end up with it?"

"Oh, that's simple," the redhead told her, still rummaging. "I got named after Mom's BFF in college. They were really close for years, then she got married and they drifted apart."

"What, your mom?"

"No, the bestie. Mom's a free spirit. She does what she wants. Marriage isn't her thing."

"Oh, uh … " Taylor felt awkward. "Sorry, I didn't mean -"

"Don't worry about it," Annette assured her. "I never do. Oh, hey, here we go." She plopped a stack of paper on the table between them. "Character sheets."

Taylor eyed them; they bore a certain amount of resemblance to the sheets that her father had stored in his 'gaming box' as he called it. These ones, however, hadn't been filled out. "They're all different."

"Because they're from different games, duh. I've got the rules for 'em all. We can play any one you like."

This was beginning to look daunting. "Uh, I don't know anything about any of them."

"Okay, we can work with that." Annette singled a sheet out. "This one's from Earth Aleph. It's pretty good. It's derived from this one, but they've sorted out some of the problems."

"Okay, if you say it's all right, we can do that one." Taylor picked up the sheet and looked at it. "What's a, uh, 'bab'?"

"That's an acronym. It stands for 'Base Attack Bonus'. It's basically how good you are at hitting things. Depending on what your character's class and level are, that sort of thing."

"Uh, class?" Taylor had a mental image of a fantasy warrior, complete with ridiculously oversized sword, hunched over a desk in a schoolroom, learning … what? How to fight dragons?

"Her occupation, that sort of thing. Fighter, paladin, ninja, whatever. Fighter types get a high BAB, while squishy classes like spellcasters get a lower BAB." She actually spelled it out, and Taylor felt a little silly for pronouncing it like a name.

"Oh." Taylor thought about that. "So if you're playing a Brute type class, you get a higher BAB, is that it?"

Annette considered that. "Yeah, pretty much. But this isn't about capes. Though I have to admit, some of the stuff they get up to in the higher levels is pretty cape-worthy."

"Okay, sounds interesting," Taylor conceded. "I'll want to read the rules, of course."

"All right." Annette pumped her fist in the air. "We'll have you kickin' ass and takin' names in no time."

Taylor had to grin; the redhead's enthusiasm was infectious. "We'll see."

Click to shrink...

 

[tEN]

Didn't attempted destruction of evidence make Shadow Stalker an accomplice to Sophia Hess anyways?

 

[Ack]

Didn't attempted destruction of evidence make Shadow Stalker an accomplice to Sophia Hess anyways?

Click to shrink...

Quite possibly.

 

[Datcord]

Didn't attempted destruction of evidence make Shadow Stalker an accomplice to Sophia Hess anyways?

Click to shrink...

You know, every time something like this comes up, all I can think is: Universes with superheros must have some FUCKED UP legal precedents.

"Your Honor, you CLEARLY cannot charge my client with this crime, as he was dead at the time it was committed! His evil twin confessed to it, before redeeming himself with a heroic sacrifice! BulletMaster Vs. The Tanusian Death Hordes sets a clear and distinct precedent that has defined the entire field!"

OR:
"Wait, so... we can't get him for murder, because he was under the influence of a mind-control ray at the time... or so he says. But we CAN get him for tax evasion? Shit, go for the tax evasion, it's got worse penalties anyways!"

OR (in this case):
"Sophia Hess is a distinct and separate entity from Shadow Stalker and, as such, cannot be charge for the tampering with evidence charge!"

"That's fine. We've got her on committing the crimes themselves. We'll get Shadow Stalker on using parahuman powers to obstruct justice. Also, resisting arrest."

 

[Ack]

You know, every time something like this comes up, all I can think is: Universes with superheros must have some FUCKED UP legal precedents.

"Your Honor, you CLEARLY cannot charge my client with this crime, as he was dead at the time it was committed! His evil twin confessed to it, before redeeming himself with a heroic sacrifice! BulletMaster Vs. The Tanusian Death Hordes sets a clear and distinct precedent that has defined the entire field!"

OR:
"Wait, so... we can't get him for murder, because he was under the influence of a mind-control ray at the time... or so he says. But we CAN get him for tax evasion? Shit, go for the tax evasion, it's got worse penalties anyways!"

OR (in this case):
"Sophia Hess is a distinct and separate entity from Shadow Stalker and, as such, cannot be charge for the tampering with evidence charge!"

"That's fine. We've got her on committing the crimes themselves. We'll get Shadow Stalker on using parahuman powers to obstruct justice. Also, resisting arrest."

Click to shrink...

In the Astro City comic, there's one story where a lawyer uses a whole stack of precedents like this to get a mobster's son off of a murder charge, after the guy bashed his date's head in with a champagne bottle in the middle of a crowded restaurant. (He regrets it immediately afterward, when he realises that he will never, ever be free of that mobster again).

 

[Datcord]

In the Astro City comic, there's one story where a lawyer uses a whole stack of precedents like this to get a mobster's son off of a murder charge, after the guy bashed his date's head in with a champagne bottle in the middle of a crowded restaurant. (He regrets it immediately afterward, when he realises that he will never, ever be free of that mobster again).

Click to shrink...

Astro City's a good comic. I vaguely recall that issue, too. In a semi-story related vein, I'm pretty sure Tattletale would understand and get along GREAT with Junkman. (From the "Show Them All" issue.) It's not enough to WIN... other people have to know they LOST, too.

Oh! Almost forgot: "Also, be sure to add 'attempted assault on a PRT officer' to Shadow Stalker's list. I think we can make 'aggravated' stick, since she used her powers in the course of that crime."

 

[Ack]

Astro City's a good comic. I vaguely recall that issue, too. In a semi-story related vein, I'm pretty sure Tattletale would understand and get along GREAT with Junkman. (From the "Show Them All" issue.) It's not enough to WIN... other people have to know they LOST, too.

Oh! Almost forgot: "Also, be sure to add 'attempted assault on a PRT officer' to Shadow Stalker's list. I think we can make 'aggravated' stick, since she used her powers in the course of that crime."

Click to shrink...

Piggot also requests a still from the conference room security camera of her tasing the fuck out of Shadow Stalker. For 'evidence'. That she's gonna frame.

 

[doomlord9]

IIRC the entire thing is a moot point. Sophia is on probation, simply being seen trying to stuff Taylor into the locker is enough to violate that probation.

Something like probation is a serious bitch to deal with, it effectively sets your status to 'guilty until proven innocent' for all further crimes so when accused of something she would have to prove without a doubt that she is innocent rather than relying on 'you can't prove I did it'.

Considering it was a violent crime she is on probation for, being witnessed committing another violent crime means she is utterly fucked even without the evidence on the phones. I see the phones as a way to really stick it to her and to extend her sentence so that rather than simply being released from Juvie when she turns 18, she will instead have a review and if she fails it she goes to an actual adult prison to serve the rest of her sentence.

 

[tEN]

IIRC correctly the entire thing is a moot point. Sophia is on probation, simply being seen trying to stuff Taylor into the locker is enough to violate that probation.

Something like probation is a serious bitch to deal with, it effectively sets your status to 'guilty until proven innocent' for all further crimes so when accused of something she would have to prove without a doubt that she is innocent rather than relying on 'you can't prove I did it'.

Considering it was a violent crime she is on probation for, being witnessed committing another violent crime means she is utterly fucked even without the evidence on the phones. I see the phones as a way to really stick it to her and to extend her sentence so that rather than simply being released from Juvie when she turns 18, she will instead have a review and if she fails it she goes to an actual adult prison to serve the rest of her sentence.

Click to shrink...

The problem here is that laws on Bet are such that, legally, Sophia Hess and Shadow Stalker are two different people. Shadow Stalker is on probation. Sophia Hess committed the crime. They need to prove that actually, Shadow Stalker committed the crime.

 

[Datcord]

The problem here is that laws on Bet are such that, legally, Sophia Hess and Shadow Stalker are two different people. Shadow Stalker is on probation. Sophia Hess committed the crime. They need to prove that actually, Shadow Stalker committed the crime.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, this is pretty much it. They can't come out and say "Shadow Stalker IS Sophia Hess!", so they have to tie Sophia Hess to the crimes... thusly, the need to retrieve her personal phone. They can punish Shadow Stalker for using her powers to assault a PRT official, resisting arrest, etc. But they can't get her on bullying, assault of a civilian minor, or attempted manslaughter (because shoving someone in that fucking locker should damn well count), because SHE didn't do it... Sophia Hess did.

These are the legal fictions that make capes possible, otherwise they'd completely ignore the law altogether.

 

[Ack]

Yeah, this is pretty much it. They can't come out and say "Shadow Stalker IS Sophia Hess!", so they have to tie Sophia Hess to the crimes... thusly, the need to retrieve her personal phone. They can punish Shadow Stalker for using her powers to assault a PRT official, resisting arrest, etc. But they can't get her on bullying, assault of a civilian minor, or attempted manslaughter (because shoving someone in that fucking locker should damn well count), because SHE didn't do it... Sophia Hess did.

These are the legal fictions that make capes possible, otherwise they'd completely ignore the law altogether.

Click to shrink...

However, if they can prove that Sophia used her powers to open the locker, it would mean that Shadow Stalker got involved ... and so.

 

[Ack]

Alea Iacta Est

Part Four: Looking for Group


Taylor

I tried to control my reaction, but my eyes still widened in shock. "I – what?"

"You've got powers," the girl repeated, her voice steady. "So have I. I'm recruiting for a team. Are you interested?" Her expression matched her voice, calm and confident; a little unsettling on someone who didn't even look to be in high school yet.

Hastily, I shook my head. "No, I think you have the wrong person. I don't have powers." Who is this person? How did she find out?

Her voice was relentless. "One of my powers is to find the right person for the job. No matter what the job is. The 'job' I'm looking to recruit people for right now is to be a part of a superhero team. You pinged on my radar as soon as I saw you. Your power is to tell the future, by rolling dice or other random data generators. You would be a tremendous asset."

I blinked. She actually knows my power. Dammit, I only ran the numbers for during school hours. I didn't check for trouble after school. "What if I'm not interested in joining your little superhero club? What if your power's wrong?"

Her expression never changed. "I don't think it is. Are you willing to at least listen to what I have to say?"

God, I want to just roll the dice now, and see which way I should jump. "Uh, can I at least think about this?"

"Take as long as you like." She extended her hand; in it was a folded piece of paper. "Ring this number when you make up your mind."

Numbly, I took it, and unfolded it. In a neatly printed hand, it read:

'MANAGEMENT'

(I might change that if I think of a better name)

Click to shrink...

After that it had a phone number, and a final sentence: "Destroy this note."

I looked up from the slip of paper. "Uh, what if -"

But she was gone. In the few seconds I had spent perusing the note, she had slipped out of sight. Looking around, I couldn't see her at all.

"What if what, Taylor?"

It was Dad's voice; I turned to see him standing in the doorway of the post office.

"Uh, nothing, Dad," I replied, then thought better of the evasion. "Did you see a girl, about yea high? She was here just now."

"No, I don't think so," he responded, a puzzled tone to his voice. "Why, is there something wrong?"

I frowned. "Not sure. Can we go home now?"

"Sure thing." He led the way to the car and unlocked it for me.

I got in, then pulled the dice bag from my pocket. "I need a flat surface. I need to make a roll."

"What's the matter, Taylor?" he asked as he folded himself into the car. "What's happened?"

I took a breath, then related the incident as precisely as I could, handing him the piece of paper when I was finished.

He read it through, twice, carefully. "Well," he murmured. "That's kind of interesting."

"Interesting? It's terrifying." I held up my hands; they were shaking. "Dad, she knew my powers. Just from looking at me."

"Does she know who you are? Did she address you by name?"

Tentatively, I shook my head. "No. No, she didn't."

"Well, that's a start." He passed me the package that he'd gotten from the post office. "There's your flat surface. Roll away."

I opened the dice bag and pulled out the three d10s that I'd been using up till then. "Chances … " I began, trying to think it through. "Chances that I'll be better off if I call her back and accept her offer."

I rolled the dice. They came up with a three, a six and a seven.

"That … doesn't look too good," Dad observed.

"Better than you'd think," I disagreed. "That's seventy-three point six percent."

"Of you being better off for accepting her offer," he noted.

"Yeah." I shot him a worried glance as I gathered up the dice. "I still want to think about this for a bit."

"I don't blame you, Taylor," he agreed. "I don't blame you at all." He started the car. "Let's go home."

<><>​

Dinah

I watched the car pull out of the parking lot. The man and his daughter had sat talking for a few moments; they were most likely discussing me and my offer to her. I wasn't worried; her intent showed reluctant acceptance toward the idea. She would probably think about it for a while, then call me back.

Well, I think that went reasonably smoothly.

My disappearing act hadn't been much of a trick; as soon as her attention had been diverted by the note, I had ducked into the post office, just before her father had emerged. His attention had been focused on the package he was carrying, so I had escaped his notice. I hadn't wanted to be there when she spoke to him about me; besides, I figured that a slight air of mystery couldn't hurt.

Pulling out my notepad, I wrote "Dice Girl" and put a tick next to the name. Closing it again, I dropped it into my bag and headed for the bus stop; I had already wandered around the mini-mall and found no other candidates. My all-day bus pass and I were going to visit every major after-school hangout for teenagers before I was done.

Still, encountering the girl on my first stop had to be a good omen. I have a good feeling about this.

<><>​

Taylor

"I'm not so sure about this," Dad told me. "Who was that girl, anyway?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "She never gave me her name. Just the note with 'Management' written on it."

"I have an idea how we can find out," he offered.

I looked at him, confused. "How?"

"Open the package," he advised me; reminded of it, I set to work pulling off the wrapping.

It came away to reveal a featureless cardboard box, which I opened. Inside … "What the heck are these?"

There were a dozen of them, each in its own little niche in the box. Each of them was a little over an inch in diameter, bulky plastic shapes. Almost like d20s except … "Dad, these things have letters on them."

"Well, fancy that," he observed blandly. "Will wonders never cease?"

Snorting at his dry tone, I plucked one from the box and examined it more closely. It had more than twenty sides; looking at it carefully, I counted thirty. All the letters from A to Z, plus an ampersand, a hyphen, a full stop and one blank side.

"Ooh," I murmured. "I can work with these."

"Well, I hope so," he replied with a grin. "Otherwise I might regret having ordered them in. Happy birthday, Taylor."

"My birthday isn't till June," I told him absently as I picked more dice from the box and rolled them in my hands.

"Then merry Christmas."

"That was last month."

"Very late Christmas," he amended. "Whatever. I hope you like them."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Dad. I do. They're great."

"Good." He nodded toward them. "So, can they tell us the name of the mystery girl?"

"Oh, good point." I emptied the dice into my lap and pulled out the little dividers as well, then scooped up as many as I could fit into my hand. In the event, this was four of them. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to roll them inside the box. "What will I find out the name of this girl to be?"

The dice clattered into the box and came to a stop; I read them off as D-I-N-A.

"That's an odd name," I muttered.

"Maybe there's more to it," Dad offered.

"Oh. Yeah." I scooped up the dice and prepared to roll them again. "Uh, the rest of her name?"

Once more, the dice rolled on the cardboard. This time, I read them as H-blank-A-full stop.

"Okay, her name's Dinah then. Last name starts with A. Huh. I'm actually kind of surprised that worked."

"You're surprised," Dad observed. "I'm just plain impressed."

"Hmm." Replacing the divider,I put the dice away, and pulled out my standard dice bag again. Out came the three d10s. "Chances that we'll be able to help people and do some good if I join this team of Dinah's?"

The dice rolled across the box; to my practised eye, they came out as 83.2%.

"Okay," I mused. "And the chance that they'll be able to help people and do some good if I don't join?" Again, I rolled the dice, and stared at the result. Thirty-six point one percent. Crap.

Dad hadn't been watching the rolls, given that he was driving, but now he glanced across at my face. "I know that look, Taylor. That's the look that says, 'I'm going to do the right thing if it kills me'. I've seen it on your mom's face too often to mistake it."

I looked up at him, worried. "I don't think I've got a choice, Dad. If I join, it raises their overall chances of being a successful team by nearly fifty percent."

"You've always got a choice," he pointed out. "Always. If you don't want to do it, then you don't have to."

Okay, one more question. "If I don't join the team, what chance will I have of using my power to make a real, positive difference in the city?"

The dice rolled. The numbers came up. I grimaced and scooped the dice up.

"What did you get?" asked Dad.

"Nine point six three percent," I replied, putting them away. "So if I want to help people, and if I want to help Dinah's team help people … "

"You'll have to join," Dad agreed, as we pulled into our driveway.

"Ugh," I muttered. "I hate being forced into things."

"Well," he commented as he turned the engine off, "you know I'll support you in whatever you do. But I would like to meet this Dinah at some point. Just to make sure she knows what she's doing. Such as not planning to put you into danger."

"I'll second that," I agreed fervently. "I just got out of a dangerous environment." I paused, thoughtful. "Though you know … I could just check every day." I mimed rolling dice. "'Is there going to be a problem today?'"

"Huh." He rubbed his chin. "You could, at that."

I grinned at him and hefted the box of alphabet dice. "Okay, let's get inside so I can test these things out some more."

"Sounds like a plan."

<><>​

Dinah

If I find anyone else, it'll be in the Market.

I stepped off the bus, adjusted my backpack, and started off along the Boardwalk. The larger shopping malls had their attractions, but the cheaper prices of some of the shops within the Market were a definite draw. Add in the subtle air of almost-danger from the patrolling enforcers – they weren't quite security guards, and they weren't quite cops – and teens were almost guaranteed to flock to the place.

I personally didn't see the thrill in it, but I wasn't there for that. I was there to see if any of the thrill-seeking teens were parahumans; more specifically, parahumans who would fit into my paradigm for a superhero team. Spotting them would be no trick at all; my power would point them out to me, just as I had been guided to speak to the girl outside the post office. Talking to them was a bit more of a challenge, as my power only gave me broad hints as to which approach to take.

If I can find someone who's good at talking to people, my problems will be solved.

Casually, I strolled down the walkway between the shops, my hand in my pockets, obviously window-shopping to any casual observer. Which I was, in a way. But it wasn't bargains that I was shopping for.

And then my phone rang. Ah. I bet that's Dice Girl. I stopped to get the phone out of my backpack, then answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, Dinah."

The voice was that of 'Dice Girl', but I was more than a little surprised to hear her address me by name. But then …

"Ah, hi. You've uh, checked me out, I see." After all, I had wanted to recruit her because of how useful her powers could be.

"You could say that. Your name is Dinah Alcott and you're the mayor's niece."

"Your dice told you that? I'm impressed."

"Nope. My Dad did. He knows your family, vaguely."

"Ah. Right. Still impressed. So, what's the verdict?"

"I ran the numbers. If I join the team, we could really make a difference together. Without me, you've got a less than forty percent chance to make it work."

I blinked. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. That bad. Worse, if I try to go it alone, I've got a less than ten percent chance of helping people and changing things for the better."

That sounded hopeful. "So … you'll be joining?"

"I will be, but the numbers tell me that I need to be more than just a member. I need to have a say in leadership."

"Wait, what? You've only just heard about this thing, and already you want to run it?"

"Have a say in how it's run. There's a difference. You say you can manage people; that's fine. But there's more to leading a team than managing people."

"Ah, right, now I see what you're getting at. Well, we can definitely talk about that."

"Good. Well, you're going to spot your next prospect really soon. But she'll be a tough sell."

"How do you know that?" If the girl told me that I was going to spot a prospect soon, then I would trust her in the matter; I began to look around.

"I ran the numbers. Five … four … three … two … one … now."

On 'now', my eyes fell on the prospect she was telling me about. Just walking out of a shop ahead of me. In fact, there were three prospects; a tall black guy, a shorter white guy with a pretty face and curly hair, and a blonde with her hair done up in a complicated braid. It was the blonde I was looking at; the other two only registered as vague prospects, given that they had loyalty elsewhere, and would be hard to break away. The blonde also had the outside loyalty, but with her it was a lot weaker; I was pretty sure there was resentment there. Forced into working for someone?

Not for the first time, I wished my power supplied me with names; not knowing who they were loyal to could be a problem. Wait. "Yeah, I see her," I replied into the phone. "She's with a couple of others. They look like a group. Maybe a team."

"Wait, you mean other parahumans?"

"That's what my power's telling me."

"I don't get it. I only came up with one prospect, a girl."

"Well, there's one girl and two guys. But they're all three powered, so I'm guessing they're a team of some sort. They've got a group loyalty, anyway."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Well, you know how you found out my name ..." I paused meaningfully.

She didn't take long to get it. "You want me to find out her name too?"

"If you can, as well as the team she's currently with." If I can look her up on PHO, that might be useful ...

"Okay, one second." There was a pause, and then a clatter of plastic on wood. "Okay, I'm reading her name as 'Lisa'."

"Okay, great, that's awesome. What's her team name?"

"Ow, dammit."

"What? What happened?"

"Got a cramp in my hand. Ow."

"What does that mean?"

"Not sure, but I think it means that I just tried to ask a question that my power can't answer. Or won't answer."

"What do you mean, your power can't or won't answer it?"

"I'm not sure. Sometimes I get this cramp. Maybe it's because I'm trying to ask a question that I normally couldn't get the answer of. Maybe when I use my power, it's checking stuff that I would've learned in the future without my power. And I'm not going to find that answer out without using my power, so I can't find the answer out."

"So you can't find out stuff that you wouldn't have found out normally?" This could make things difficult.

"I guess."

"Well, thanks for the name, anyway. Uh, by the way, talking about names; you know mine. What's yours?"

There was a muffled snort of amusement on the other end of the line. "What, you're only just asking me now?"

I felt my cheeks heating up. "I've had things on my mind, okay?"

"Heh. True. It's Taylor. Taylor Hebert."

"Okay, cool. Nice to meet you, Taylor."

"Likewise, I guess." I heard another clatter of plastic on wood. "Hm."

"What?"

"You'll probably find your pitch a lot easier if you talk to her away from the others."

I smiled dryly; I'd already figured that one out. "Yep, thanks. Anyway, I'll talk to you later."

"See you then."

I ended the call, and was just about to store Taylor's number on my phone when I realised that Lisa had increased her pace, and moved ahead of the other two. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I moved up and past them; they paid me no attention at all, which was perfect for me. Up ahead, there came the flicker of Lisa's blouse as she rounded a corner. When I lost line of sight on her, my power also lost track of her; all I caught was a certain intensity of purpose. She wanted to do something, but I wasn't sure what; my power only measured intent that specifically had to do with the job at hand.

Hurrying onward, I rounded the corner as well, but slowed when I realised that Lisa was nowhere to be seen. Darn, I've lost her. Moving along, I pulled my phone from my pocket again; if Taylor could tell me where she'd gone, maybe I could catch up -

- and then an access door opened, and Lisa yanked me inside. Closed the door. Slammed me up against the wall.

Oh crap oh crap oh crap.

<><>​

Taylor

I put the phone back in the cradle and went to sit on the sofa with Dad.

He looked at me as I sat down. "So what was that about? I heard you rolling dice on the kitchen table."

"Oh, that was Dinah," I replied. "She wanted me to give her some information." I shook my hand; the cramp was just about gone, thankfully.

"So she's looking for other recruits, huh?"

"I guess so," I agreed. "I hope she's careful about it."

"Yeah, me too." He paused. "That friend of yours from Arcadia. Andrea, was it?"

"No." I shook my head. "Annette. Her name's stuck in my head because of Mom, you know?"

"Yeah, that's the funny part," he mused.

"Funny how?" I asked.

He smiled reminiscently. "Back when I was just a bit older than you, I went to the college to see about signing up for summer classes. I kind of met this girl in line, and we struck up a conversation. Once we'd settled our business in admissions, we kept on talking."

"Wait," I interrupted. "Was this … Mom?"

"Yes, it was." Another smile. "We must have talked for an hour before she invited me to the Club for a meal and a drink. While I was there, she introduced me to a friend of hers called Andrea. Andrea Campbell. And she had red hair, just like your friend Annette."

"Wait a minute," I blurted. "Campbell. That name sounds familiar. I think it might be Annette's last name too."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," he observed. "Did you ask her about where she got her name from?"

"Um, yeah. She said that she was named after her mom's best friend, after the friend got married. And that her mom is kind of a free spirit. So I guess that means after Annette's mom got pregnant, she just had Annette and didn't bother getting married."

Dad snorted. "Free spirit. Yeah. That fits, all right. As far as I could tell, Andrea did exactly what Andrea wanted. She never hurt a soul, but she couldn't be bothered with things like shame, either."

There was a tone in his voice that I'd never heard before. "Wait a minute, Dad." I paused, not sure how to word this. "Did you and Andrea … were you and her -"

"Oh god no!" He burst out laughing. "No, she flirted with me, but she flirted with everyone. No, when we met, it was your mom she was involved with."

I blinked, as my worldview shifted. It was a very weird feeling. "Wait. You're saying that my mom and Annette's mom were -" I shut my mouth. That was not something I was going to say out loud.

Solemnly, he nodded. "Yeah. They were. I didn't even realise until after, of course. Your mom and I were an item, and Andrea just … accepted it. Smiled, and wished us the best of luck. Even had a hug and a kiss for me." He sighed, a little nostalgically. "She made our lives a lot more fun. And a lot weirder. We did a lot of stuff together, but she moved to Boston in Anne-Rose's last year. I wonder what happened to her."

"Well, I could ask Annette," I offered, still a little dazed at the revelations he had given me.

"I suppose you could," he agreed. "Just … you know … be tactful about it, okay? Just in case it's not the same person."

I smiled and opened the dice box. With three of the alphabet dice in my hand, I leaned forward. "Tomorrow, will I find out that Annette's mom is Dad's friend Andrea?"

"Wait -" Dad began, but it was too late; I had rolled the dice. He stared at the result as they clattered to a halt. With a Y, an E and an S, the answer was all too easy to make out.

<><>​

Lisa

In my years on the streets, I had learned to pay attention when my powers told me that I was being watched or followed. Admittedly, I hadn't been paying quite enough attention when Coil's goons got their hands on me, but then, those had been professionals, and I had been focused on stealing that one guy's phone. In retrospect, not my finest hour.

Since becoming a professional supervillain, of course, I'd had to up my game. Not only did I have to keep an eye out for people who I'd wronged in my private life, but there was always the chance of someone recognising us for who we were when we were out of costume. The chance of any sort of facial recognition was minimal for three of the four of us; Brian wore a helmet with a full-face visor, Alec had a mask that covered most of his face, and I'd carefully chosen a mask that hid my freckles and changed the shape of my face. I also took care to wear my hair differently and pick out clothes that didn't evoke the lavender and black of my costume; unwritten rules or no, there is such a thing as giving people too many clues.

Rachel, of course, was the one weak point in all of that. As a known face, a publicly wanted villain, we had to take care not to appear on camera with her too obviously in our civilian identities. She had that dog mask thing she wore when out as Bitch, but sometimes she forgot it, sometimes she pulled it off, and sometimes she just didn't care.

The fact also remained that her face and identity were known to the PRT and police; she could walk her dogs along the Boardwalk a dozen times without trouble, but on the thirteenth time a police cruiser might spot her, or she might see someone mistreating a dog, and then it would be on for one and all. Which was why she wasn't with us at the Market; she hadn't really wanted to come, and there was actually a fair chance that someone would recognise her and call it in. Or sic the enforcers on us; this would not turn out well, specifically for the enforcers, but we didn't need that sort of publicity, or the chance of having our faces becoming known as well.

But even with all the precautions, I was still keeping a certain level of awareness up, and shortly after we left the video game store, I started to get that feeling. Turning as if to listen to the good-natured argument between Brian and Alec as to the respective merits of their favourite games, I glanced behind us.

There she was; a girl, twelve years old, straight brown hair. She was talking on the phone, and pretending to look anywhere but at us -

Not looking at us. Looking at me.

Talking on the phone. Talking to someone who knows something about me. Getting information.

Not interested in the others. Just in me.

Doesn't know me, doesn't know much about me. Knows I have powers.

Interested in me because of my powers.

Knows I have powers because she has powers.

Has powers but isn't a current cape.

Wants to talk? to me.

I didn't have enough in the way of data to determine why she wanted to talk to me, but it wasn't hard to work out that she didn't want to talk to me in the company of the other two. Nor, I thought, did she mean me any harm.

For a moment, I considered cluing the other two in and grabbing the girl, but I decided not to go there. After all, there was her mystery confederate, the one who knew something about me. I'd be much better at handling an interrogation without the other two getting in the way, anyway.

So I hurried my pace, moving forward faster. She followed, as I knew she would.

Around the corner, with an access doorway just up ahead – rarely locked, try the handle, opens smoothly, duck on in – and then I waited counting seconds in my head. Footsteps approached the door, of the right weight and speed to be her. Flinging the door open, I grabbed her; she barely had time to yelp before I dragged her into the access corridor and closed the door again.

Inches shorter than me, she was pounds lighter. She wasn't any kind of fighter, which was good, because nor was I. Her hands weren't instinctively reaching for weapons; she wasn't armed. Good.

Pushing her up against the wall, I put my face close to hers.

"Okay, talk. Why were you following me?"


End of Part Four

Part Five

 

[Chojomeka]

How to make an overpowered Thinker team step 1.

 

[Starfox5]

Good chapter. Love the dice idea - and yes, it's Andrea's daughter! Score! Lisa and Dinah should get along like a house on fire

 

[Rederic]

Was "(I might change that if I think of a better name)" actually on the card?

 

[Datcord]

How to make an overpowered Thinker team step 1.

Click to shrink...

*crosses fingers* I'm really hoping for "The Brain Trust" or "The Think Tank" as their team name.

Next up: The Number Man pops in, and Dinah travels to Boston... because if you're gonna ride the ride, you better try to get that brass ring!

 

[Slayer Anderson]

There were a dozen of them, each in its own little niche in the box. Each of them was a little over an inch in diameter, bulky plastic shapes. Almost like d20s except … "Dad, these things have letters on them."

"Well, fancy that," he observed blandly. "Will wonders never cease?"

Snorting at his dry tone, I plucked one from the box and examined it more closely. It had more than twenty sides; looking at it carefully, I counted thirty. All the letters from A to Z, plus an ampersand, a hyphen, a full stop and one blank side.

Click to shrink...

Wait. Alphabet = 26 letters, plus four extra sides....oh my god.

You gave her D30's! Squee! You gave her the things that my friends went, "dude, what the fuck?" when they first saw the dice I'd bought. This makes me giggle.

Spoiler: 30 Sided Dice

 

[Ack]

Was "(I might change that if I think of a better name)" actually on the card?

Click to shrink...

Yes, yes, it was.

Wait. Alphabet = 26 letters, plus four extra sides....oh my god.

You gave her D30's! Squee! You gave her the things that my friends went, "dude, what the fuck?" when they first saw the dice I'd bought. This makes me giggle.

Spoiler: 30 Sided Dice

Click to shrink...

Yes, yes, she has d30s. But they're more (though not quite) like this.

 

[edale]

Chapter 2 has no "next chapter" link.

 

[SwiftRosenthal]

Chapter 2 has no "next chapter" link.

Click to shrink...

Neither does chapter 4.

 

[Ack]

Chapter 2 has no "next chapter" link.

Click to shrink...

Fixed.

 

[Datcord]

Calling it now: Taylor's going to end up going full Gygax, a la this Futurama clip. (You want about 50 seconds in.)

 

[Rentoba]

Taylor really isn't good at coming up with questions is she? She'd have gotten a better answer if her questions about working with Dinah were more along the lines of 'Chance I will be satisfied with what I accomplish in my lifetime if I join Dinah's team instead of ignoring my powers existence.' All she has to then do is substitute joining Dinah with joining the wards, going at it alone, going rogue, etc. and she'd have an easy to compare scale of what's best for Taylor.