Mettle [Worm AU]

[Harbin]

Being able to treat unworkable materials as workable is something that Dragon - and any engineer, Tinker or otherwise - would pay HUGE dollars for.

Click to shrink...

The possibilities are only limited by my limited knowledge of metallurgy and potential creative practical applications of some of these things. Going to have to read up.

 

[pepperjack]

The possibilities are only limited by my limited knowledge of metallurgy and potential creative practical applications of some of these things. Going to have to read up.

Click to shrink...

The fewer details you mention, the less limiting your ignorance. Old GMing trick.

 

[Harbin]

The fewer details you mention, the less limiting your ignorance. Old GMing trick.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, but I love going into detail, fleshing out worlds, and learning new things.

 

[pepperjack]

Yeah, but I love going into detail, fleshing out worlds, and learning new things.

Click to shrink...

Well, yeah, if you want to, knock yourself out. I was just afraid that you might be the type to let fear slow your updates. "I need to do more research" is a powerful weapon in the arsenal of the procrastination demons.

Just for kicks, I searched Google for the double-quoted string "titanium is too * to" and got some interesting results.

 

[Harbin]

Well, yeah, if you want to, knock yourself out. I was just afraid that you might be the type to let fear slow your updates. "I need to do more research" is a powerful weapon in the arsenal of the procrastination demons.

Just for kicks, I searched Google for the double-quoted string "titanium is too * to" and got some interesting results.

Click to shrink...

Absolutely not. This entire thing is because I'm setting myself to a strict schedule, and it's really helped drive me out of a rut. I will keep to my schedule, although this upcoming week might not have any 3 update days. (Relatives are here from Japan, have to help take care of the kids/make a lot of food.)

Interesting! Thank you! I was actually thinking of superalloy experimentation, because if you can have two different metals have the same melting point, a lot of things change.

 

[Harbin]

3.3​

I pitched it as the best paid internship in pretty much ever. Short of apprenticing for Coil, it was about the best way I could think of to improve my abilities, make money, and maybe even make armor with amazing metals. They didn't even have to be tinkertech! Armsmaster came back somewhere around that time. He exchanged a few glances with Dragon.

Maybe she'd let me pilot a mech. That was the dream.

Dad was more happy about the fact that I wouldn't be running out into the streets to try panhandle for supervillains. I mean, he was also super happy about the potential to have Dragon on my resume.

"Yeah, I uh, worked with Dragon for a few years at the start of my hero career." Buff nails against shirt, look at them, get hired by whoever. Didn't matter who.

So, I gave her the answer within a few minutes, after having called Dad.

She extended what could be reasonably called a hand from the mech, and I shook on it. Armsmaster called her a filthy poacher good-naturedly, then shook my hand as well.

"I'm glad, and I sincerely hope this hasn't poisoned your view of the entire PRT. The majority of us are hard workers, trying to fix things to the best state we can. I'm looking forward to seeing how your ability helps out the potential advancement of technology, not just the tinker community." He gave me a nod, then nodded to Dragon once more. Dragon's smile was somehow very human, and filled with… esteem? Fondness. It was a stunning recreation on the simulacrum's face. For the second time, I wondered how much time it had taken to make that face, just to present a more human image for the mech.

I nodded.

Her shadow was there, softly pulsing.

Perhaps this was Dragon's way of getting out of the house, sending as accurate of a depiction of herself as she could into the world. Living vicariously through her mechs. Maybe that's why I saw it.

Armsmaster's was much clearer, simpler to see. Was this image one I'd come to associate with him, or what he associated with his trigger event?

Long, tapered fingers, tracing equations I couldn't read into the air. One was linked to another, then another, then another, and then they were overlapped, drawn into a single piece. They were too tall to see their face, or all of the things that were scrawled into the air with their six arms.

Okay. Uh.

"Templar, are you alright? We must find a better name for you. Alloy? Liminal would be accurate, perhaps, but easily misinterpreted. There will be time. We can discuss it between test and production periods. Names are important, but if you won't be in the public eye, you won't have to worry about having it be decided for you." Dragon contemplated, "But I apologize, I have kept Armsmaster waiting long enough. I will set up time in the Workshop with you on a daily basis. If you require transport, I'll provide that as well. The paperwork itself should take a few more hours, but I've already sent the necessary documents, and you'll be able to collect what you need on your way out."

Damn. She already had everything finished?

"I uh, have school and I'm going to meet with Parian tomorrow at five-"

"That's fine, don't worry. Does seven to nine sound good to you?" She asked, pausing at the threshold.

I nodded mutely.

Man, was this what it was like to be popular?

--​

I thought yesterday was slow.

I was wrong. I was wrong, and it was even worse today. How could it be worse. Why was I still here? If I called Dragon and asked her to pick me up would she? I entertained that fantasy briefly as I took (some) notes. Woosh. See you later. Important Protectorate stuff.

It was a struggle. I managed to survive. It took forever.

--​

Parian's office was only such in the loosest sense of the word. The loosest sense of the word was workshop, in this case. There was fabric. There were some stuffed animals, and some unstuffed animals, sadly deflated on the floor. I thought I recognized one from last year's floats. Patchwork bunny, ears a different color than the head, pink plaid on one arm, baby blue body, pink legs. It was hung up on the wall.

The place was a mess. Not in a 'stylish hipster artist' mess, but someone who didn't particularly care a lot about their wellbeing. Parian had her signature mask on, a marble-white depiction of a female face that reminded me of a death mask more than anything else. A greyish shirt along with a patchwork skirt.

"H-hello." The mask made her voice sound more breathy and nervous. Did she know?

"Hello, Parian. I haven't quite decided on a name yet. I go by 'you' and 'hey' for now, though." I tried to push humor into things, to be nice, but that just made it feel like she was shrinking away.

I focused on her, looking for her shadow.

It was there, I just needed to look a bit harder.

A doll, made from thread. Except it was being pulled by the threads, unravelling, unspooling, and needles worked at it constantly, trying to keep it intact, stabbing in and out. The threads anchored everywhere as they drew out, coiling further away, demanding more, and more.

Okay. So, not like Armsmaster's. What had Clockblocker's looked like? A beating heart-IV-bag-spider-thing. His trigger event might be related to something in a hospital? Was Parian's her career? Maybe her home life about her career?

How could I handle this? I felt guilty, manipulative, but she was a shrinking violet who was afraid of me making jokes, being nice.

"Sorry. I'm not too good with people, Parian. I thought I should come here and talk things through, because that's something that people have been encouraging of me. I'd just like to get a consultation and see how you've handled things as an independent hero? Maybe talk a few costume ideas over?" I extended a hand. "No hard feelings if this isn't a great time."

"A-ah, no. I'm sorry. I should be a better host. Let me get s-some tea. Would Chai or Chamomile be better?" She hurried off to the fridge, opening it to allow me to see the jugs of chilled beverages.

"I'll take Chai. Thank you." She poured a glass for me, and carried it over. Our hands touched, and she almost jerked away. Her hands were trembling ever so slightly, and she backed away. It felt like she was trying to recover herself as she smoothed her skirt, sitting down on a stool.

She couldn't keep everything up. Waiting outside the door, feeling her stomach churn, wanting to cry, wanting to give up and just go back to her room and feel like shit and guilt for not going to class again and-

Problems with class. Bullies. No, I shouldn't use that as the first choice. Not understanding the material, maybe? Dislike of the teacher? Come on, fragments. "So, uhm. My power is to put things together, and be able to decide what traits represent themselves."

Silver lining. I was getting better at telling people my power. I'd done it often enough recently.

"So uh, my scarf. I have a lot of metal in it right now, so it's really heavy compared to normal. To everyone except me, it weighs a bunch. I can also make it rigid, like metal." I demonstrated, as if performing a magic trick. All in the flick of the wrist. The scarf froze in midair from my hand for a second, then resumed its progression. I wound it back around my hand.

Parian didn't clap. Just nodded slowly.

"I haven't tried much, but I think I can push the appearance of the other thing out as well? Maybe I could have a color shifting costume?" I tried to interact with her, draw her into the conversation.

"Yes. That sounds like it would be best." She agreed with me. It was something.

Dad dead debts everywhere what were they going to do she wasn't going to classes and everything was falling apart. Engineering went from difficult and unrewarding to hellish and so stressful that she'd had to curl up in bed after each class at least the ones she'd gone to and it was only getting worse and the guilt was always there wasting student loans wasting everything-

"Yeah." I could sympathize with her. Empathize, even. She had it rough. "Do you have any suggestions? I won't be offended. I don't really have a fashion sense. Regardless of the outcome here, I'll pay double whatever your consultation fee is."

"T-thanks." Fuck. This wasn't the right tack to take here. I could feel it at that answer, with the shadow behind her.

I desperately wanted to reach a conclusion and get out. I was getting afraid of making things worse, pushing her somehow in a way that might force her further inward.

"Parian. If I give you a couple concept ideas, do you think you could get back to me with a few sketches after a couple days?" I felt like I was just boiling pity and tossing it over the wall at her. I was saying it all wrong.

"Yeah. I could try." She was looking off to the side. I dared to hope that it was a hint of something positive.

She wrote things down when I talked at her. It felt terrible. I sipped at the tea.

 

[dasstan]

3.3​

Click to shrink...

Missing threadmark.

She wrote things down when I talked at her. It felt terrible. I sipped at the tea.

Click to shrink...

Talk about awkward. Anyway, I really enjoyed Taylor putting on her Jack Slash mask on and trying her hand at manipulating parahumans. She's still rough around the edges, but I can see that becoming a really useful tool for her. Does she need to be able to see a person to see their power shadow? Or do the shades hang around a person, but are still visible to her regardless of if something blocks line of sight to the person?

 

[Harbin]

Talk about awkward. Anyway, I really enjoyed Taylor putting on her Jack Slash mask on and trying her hand at manipulating parahumans. She's still rough around the edges, but I can see that becoming a really useful tool for her. Does she need to be able to see a person to see their power shadow? Or do the shades hang around a person, but are still visible to her regardless of if something blocks line of sight to the person?

Click to shrink...

Within a limited range, depending on power strength and trigger events. The stronger the memories, the more unrestricted the shard/more powerful the shard, the easier. Yangban or Butcher, for example. She can only see through a certain 'window', so if the thing eclipses the window, she can't see the rest of the thing. Potentially possible though, since she's seeing the 'overlap'.

 

[pepperjack]

I felt like I was just boiling pity and tossing it over the wall at her.

Click to shrink...

Nice turn of phrase. You do this. Not, er, boil pity and throw it over the wall at people, I mean turn phrases nicely. Not the first time I've seen it, but the first time I've called it out.

 

[Harbin]

Nice turn of phrase. You do this. Not, er, boil pity and throw it over the wall at people, I mean turn phrases nicely. Not the first time I've seen it, but the first time I've called it out.

Click to shrink...

Thanks for the honest chuckle. I enjoy writing snark a lot, even when it's frustrated/sad humor. When it fits and fits well, I'm really happy with it. When it doesn't fit well I make it do exercise.

(I'm really glad Mouse Protector is winning on SB.)

 

[Axel Fones]

God, reading Parian is making me depressed. She's really coming off like she's in a shittier headspace than canon.

 

[Harbin]

3.4​

I left much earlier than expected. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. Maybe someone enthusiastic about their craft, or someone who was down on their luck. Not the thing I had tried to lob questions to.

"Thank you for the tea." She had nodded. As if she expected me to leave. As if she was saying why wouldn't I leave. Fuck. "Call me when you finish the designs?"

Another slow nod.

I left her with a hundred bucks, and it was as if I was trying to bribe my way out. Maybe I could buy some hot chocolate to bring next time? Maybe I could talk with Dragon about it. At the same time I felt like I was violating her privacy somehow. That she was struggling on her own, and pushing that would push pieces of that around.

I felt frustrated, drained, and guilty. Guilty for feeling those emotions about her. I didn't feel like I'd helped her. Maybe I hadn't made things worse, but I certainly hadn't helped.

There was still an hour left before my meeting with Dragon. I went to go get something sugary.

I had to remind myself that I had money now. Staring at the display case of cakes, it was all too easy to begin mentally crossing things off. Or just want to buy them all. Two. I settled on that. A small piece of layered green tea cake, along with a red velvet cupcake. I got the overpriced darjeeling to go with it. It did go well. Staring at the treat and sipping at the tea did very little to clear my mind, though.

Made my taste buds happier. That's about it.

--​

The mood whiplash of Dragon's kind enthusiasm made me feel guilty for feeling happier. It made me feel petulant and Dragon picked up on it almost immediately.

"So, have you thought of any names? I thought we'd go over those before we get to the facility. It's not complete yet, so you aren't allowed to judge it." The image that displayed on the windshield of the car smiled at me. It was being driven by a minor AI Dragon had delegated the task to. "Miss Milita is open."

I smiled in spite of myself.

"I'd like to add to the suggestion pool with slightly more words I've pulled straight from a thesaurus but might be fitting. I suspect you would rather not contend for Aegis with his title?" The car turned to the left. The ride was smooth to the point where I had to look through the translucent-Dragon-face to see the road.

"No, I think he can keep it. I met him on my first day out, so it'd feel a bit cruel to steal it from him." I felt the urge to make funny faces at Dragon. I refrained.

"Boo. No fun. Well, Bulwark and Escutcheon are both taken. You could vie for Escutcheon, I think the original is in Australia now. Might be retiring in a year or two. Considering you aren't limited to straight armor and metals, though, you could also go for a more desert costume look. You could have loose-fitting, easy breathing clothing. Would make the costume switching easier, too. Brockton Bay gets very hot and humid during the summer, so you should take that into account when you assemble your outfit together." Listening to Dragon talk like this made me feel more relaxed. A conversation where I felt like I wasn't just trying to extend things out and receive little to no response in return.

"I talked with Parian." I sighed. "She's-"

"Yes. Parian is not doing so well. Records on her indicate increased reclusion over the last year. Her projects have decreased in scope and frequency. There were a few deals offered to her in the infancy of her career, but they fell apart. I am not saying anything that is private, this is all publically searchable information." Dragon's voice held a tinge of regret.

"Can't anyone do something to help her? She seems like she's in a really bad place." I frowned. I felt like I was accusing Dragon directly now, and that definitely wasn't what I intended to do. And it was an exceedingly bad idea, if I had intended it.

"Her problems might be addressed if she were to join the Protectorate. My hands are tied in this matter. I would much rather her be a hero than be desperate enough to go into villain territory. Anything I do can be considered building a powerbase. I've used up a good amount of pull to 'acquire' you. If I help someone, many things need to be taken into account. If I give her money or treatment, I can be called out on bribery. Even if this is not true, it hurts my public image, and can lead to me having operations shut down, or people refusing to work with me." Dragon's face was bitter. "Worse, I can be ordered to shut them down. I despise losing good operations because of bad PR. I have asked someone to check in on her, extend an offer."

"I'm not very good at getting outside the box myself, Templar." Her image smiled wanly.

Heat rose in my cheeks, and I stared downward.

"Oh, I'm not offended, Templar. I've made steps to correct my- issues, but until future notice, I'm limited in regards to mobility. I believe this conversation has been made awkward, so I'd like to motion to move onward from it." Her lips quirked upward, smirking.

"Seconded." I smiled back. It felt a little weird to hear Dragon's reply be 'no, I can't help' and for my personal thought process not to jump straight to resentment. And then down 'please go away boulevard', next to 'I'm not listening avenue'. Perhaps it was a result of her explanation, leading into her own, personal admission. "So, what will we be doing with my power, Dragon?"

"Today we'll be experimenting with alloys. Perhaps a simplified explanation, and a more complex one if it's necessary for your power. Metals have different melting and boiling points. This differentiation makes it difficult for the creation of some alloys, and makes different techniques necessary for different alloys." She was enthusiastic, other images showing up on the screen. A block of silvery metal, frosted over. An identical block of Copper, with a silver piece taking up one of the corners. "My thoughts are that we'd test your power's ability to interact with objects and create basic alloys. Using Gallium as the 'base', as a metal that has a melting point of roughly eighty-six Fahrenheit, thirty Celsius. We'll try copper and a bit of tin and zinc. Easy stuff. I'd like to move on to superalloys sooner than later."

"Oh, and I can't wait to see how annealing works with your power. I think it might work, if your power reacts how I'd like it to." It was easy to sit there and listen to her.

We arrived a minute or so later. I exited the vehicle. It was a bunker. I felt like I was a supervillain. Or that Dragon was a supervillain. "So, uh-"

The place lit up, and then the wall lit with a pulsing arrow. "Sorry, I've been dying to show this off. Just follow the arrows. I'm hoping to get a sort of general-use tinker thing going for more legal tinkers. For ones that aren't like Armsmaster. Or have established their own clientele. The PRT is a great resource, but I think there needs to be an intermediary, especially for people who can't do things like the PRT does. Whether it's problems with authority, personal issues due to trigger, or not wanting to be known but wanting to abide by the law. I'll be handing it off to Hero, I think. I'm not good with authority. Too prone to abusing it."

Right. Dragon, abuse her authority. Psh.

She led me to an airlock, where I put on what was a fairly comfortable hazmat suit and mask, then entered a room that was definitely chilly. The black marks on some of the walls were more noticeable. The cubes of metal were here, on a table, and on the other side of the table was a very small mech. Small for Dragon. Five feet, with a few limbs extending from a boxy, treaded frame. To the right of the table was what looked like a- kiln? Kind of?

"So. Would you mind combining the two cubes? I've made them as similar as I could to each other in size and shape." The objects slid together like they were meant to, overlapping with ease. Jeez. It wasn't even a drain on me. I had to think about separating them.

How similar had Dragon made these cubes? The robot moved the copper-zinc-tin cube into the kiln-thing. I really needed better names. "Okay, Templar. We're going to start heating it up inside the heating device."

I felt like she was being patronizing. "What's the device's actual name?"

"Repurposed kiln. Made it yesterday for this. Kiln 2.0? More of a step back for everyone that doesn't have your power. Kiln 0.5?" Dragon chuckled. "Anyway, I'd like you to try focusing your power on the metal, and make the boiling point of the metal identical to the gallium, if you can."

I could see the overlap through the kiln. I tried to figure out what the heat part of it was. Some pieces came naturally, some pieces I had to push, get used to. I wasn't sure if it was related to the concept of durability or not. The heated wax to mould the flute came with repeated separations and reintegrations. I tried to focus on that experience, working it in, the warmth. How it had bent, rather than broken. That wasn't quite it. It was close, a forgotten thing.

Oh. The chalk-pepper spray came in handy. It was the solid and the gas form, almost having to hold and bind them. To have it react in a certain way to the heat, from the one aspect.

I sat there, working on saturating the entire object with that sensation, next time I'd do this when I could touch and feel it. Knowing it was working and feeling it was working sometimes made a huge difference, and I felt like it would in this. My hands were pressed up against the kiln, and I became aware that they were trembling. I leaned back, and sat down on the ground. I could repeat that. I could do that again. I knew how to do it now. It would take a while before I could do it on the fly. What a rush.

"Fifteen minutes. You've successfully made your first alloy, Templar. Congratulations! It's still in a liquid state, but it has the temperature of ninety degrees. Impressively odd. Very good for potential forging or precision spooling, too. A lot less energy taken up." Dragon was happy. That meant really good things, potentially.

"Alright! So, I'll have you test to see if you can have this poured into case molds, then I'll check to see if there's any difference in the alloy before and after you separate them. After that, we can work on superalloys." I nodded. Using my power, pushing it in this way- it felt amazing. It was a new potential skill, how could it be useful? Maybe shifting metal into water, then back as a containment method? Was that possible?

I followed Dragon's instructions, almost forgetting about my Parian encounter.

 

[Axel Fones]

"Repurposed kiln. Made it yesterday for this. Kiln 2.0? More of a step back for everyone that doesn't have your power. Kiln 0.5?" Dragon chuckled. "Anyway, I'd like you to try focusing your power on the metal, and make the boiling point of the metal identical to the gallium, if you can."

Click to shrink...

Dragon is just straight up too good for Earth Bet. Also, she seems very laid back, possibly to keep Taylor at ease?

 

[Harbin]

She's slightly different from Canon iteration. (More limitations in certain areas/less in others.) She is more friendly, although to be fair, canon Taylor never really got the opportunity to be real friends with her. Some sibling rivalry.

 

[GiftofLove]

Dragon is too perfect for this world. A golden soul whose light gilds everything it falls upon. Something horrible is going to take her out of it, I just know it.

I'm digging these power tests and all of the new interpretations of characters. Quite stimulating!

 

[Harbin]

3.5​

Dragon was a slave driver. That was her true identity. I had found the truth. Her wheedling, kind words set me up to try one more thing out, then gave me approval afterward, making me feel like I'd done something awesome. Which I had, but I was so tired.

It was so much fun.

I learned stuff. Creep. Grain boundaries. Dragon wanted to test for those next, but it'd have to wait until tomorrow. We'd already done so much, today. We did some nucleation with a rhenium alloy/sugar mix. It became hard to keep track of, to keep those boundaries and mergings up, when it got that small. She was ecstatic about that one.

She wanted to work with something she called sintering and single crystal casting, but our time was up. And I was exhausted. I didn't know how she kept up that energy through everything.

I asked her if I could use what she paid me to have her produce, well, non-tinkertech armor using some of what we made on the ride back to the PRT, where Dad would pick me up.

"And I suppose if I give a Templar a set of armor, she'll ask for a weapon?" Dragon gently chided.

"Well- hey, I am not going to ask- If I help clean the bunker, does that mean you'll do it?" I couldn't help but giggle.

"The entire bunker? I'll give you all the milk you'd like after that, Templar." I broke into a giggling fit. I couldn't stop. It was ridiculous. I was making jokes about shared childhood memories. With Dragon. And she'd started it. I yawned about halfway through my laughter, then kept laughing.

I fell asleep some point later on the ride.

--​

I woke up on the way home in Dad's car, looking outside at the lights passing overhead as we drove onward. Dad's car made that comfortable noise that I remembered every time we'd gone out together. Whether it was out to Emma's house, hiking, movies, wherever. He'd preferred this car. The memories of Mom hit me really hard, and I started crying. I remembered falling asleep with her in the back seat, because I always wanted to sit in the front. I remembered all those parts of the memories that she was even tangentially associated with.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Dad. I miss Mom. I miss her -" I wiped the tears away from my eyes, and Dad pulled over for a moment.

"Yeah. I miss her too, kid. Sometimes it hurts. It hurts so much, and I'm in the kitchen and I remember working with her there, bumping into her- hugging her. Telling her I love her." He smiled. It was wavering, and his eyes were filled with tears. "Now it's you and those memories. That's all I've got left of Anne."

Dad wiped his tears away. "Let's do our best to be happy, okay?"

"Not going to say she would have wanted it that way?" I responded, looking down at my hands for a moment before looking back at Dad and smiling.

"Nah. She would have had a philosophical quote ready that would blow our socks out of the water. So I'll stick with what I'm good at." He ruffled my hair affectionately. "Let's head home."

I nodded.

--​

I slept really well that night.

--​

The next day, school was more of a blur. I went through my classes, took notes, and paid attention. I felt good. Put together.

Things clicked in and I was paying attention. The world seemed a little less of that pungent, disgusting shade of yellow hopelessness. I learned a new way to tie my scarf at lunch time. I kept the actual scarf tied around my elbow, under a long-sleeved shirt.

I smiled at Emma. She flinched. I wish I could say that didn't feel good, that I was the better person.

Revised Statement: I wish I could say that didn't fill me with satisfaction.

Other than that though, today, I didn't really feel that burning frustration. I could do things now. I had things going for me. Things were going better, truly.

I half-expected the Endbringer sirens to go off. I received a confirmation text from Dragon. We weren't texting buddies. Yet.

Me: Is starting from 4 ok?
Dragon: 4-8 is fine. See you at the PRT station.

Maybe it was one of her automated responses.

Dragon: Do you mind if Armsmaster comes along?

Okay definitely not.

Me: Sure, go for it!

I decided not to prod the Dragon by adding that they made an excellent couple. I went and had another couple cakes from that cafe again. I tried a different tea. Ceylon. It was enjoyable. The cafe was good enough that I probably could have thrown darts at the menu and gotten great tasting food.
Someone sat across from me, and I looked up.

They had a shadow. That was beginning to be the first thing I noticed about people. Curly hair, pretty face. Lazy posture.

A marionette, twitches working along its hands and arms, until they reached its center. It hung there, then began moving in place. Fake. A sham.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Keep everything even. Set the tea down. Wait for the attack. Take phone out. Stupid buttons, which one was the on switch?

"Not here to fight. No need for the phone stuff. Good faith, all that shit. My employer wants you to know you've got eyes on you." He raised his hands up, then did a little jazz hands with them.

All of his glimmers were muted. Everything I tried to look at was pieces of pieces, or wisps, intangible and brief. "Oh? And what if I don't want eyes on me?"

"No, no. You've got eyes on you and they aren't my employer's." He shook his head slowly. "They think you're a tinker or some shit."

He ferreted around in his pocket for a moment, I tensed. He pulled out a notepad. "You've been spotted going off with Dragon to places unknown. They may look to target you or your father. Work faster."

He read it in a disinterested monotone, stood, then walked by me, patting me on the shoulder as he passed. "Here's to never seeing you again."

"Same? I guess?" I took my phone out and worked on texting Dragon.

 

[Biigoh]

Oh Alec... only you could make a threat/warning sound so banal... it does fit him. Dun dun dunnnn!

The only question is... whose eyes are on the little nibblet, eh?

 

[dasstan]

I went and had another couple cakes from that care again.

Click to shrink...

cafe

Curly hair, pretty face. Lazy posture.

Click to shrink...

Hey, Alec! Call me!

Mmm. I wonder if he's still working for Coil, and if Coil isn't running a Suicide Squad dealio...

 

[Axel Fones]

"Not here to fight. No need for the phone stuff. Good faith, all that shit. My employer wants you to know you've got eyes on you." He raised his hands up, then did a little jazz hands with them.

Click to shrink...

Obviously Coil isn't a thing in this fic, but it seems like the Undersiders still exist in some form, complete with an employer too. And with Alec being the in-between, what does that mean for Lisa?

 

[necrolectric]

Obviously Coil isn't a thing in this fic, but it seems like the Undersiders still exist in some form, complete with an employer too. And with Alec being the in-between, what does that mean for Lisa?

Click to shrink...

Well, we saw her in the market a few chapters back, right? I'm guessing she might be an independent or rogue, without Coil to pressgang her.

 

[pepperjack]

Such assumptions! Who's to say it isn't Coil?

 

[GiftofLove]

Such assumptions! Who's to say it isn't Coil?

Click to shrink...

Maybe it's Piggot.

 

[Harbin]

I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations and heinous rumors. To support such spurious accusations would be tantamount to spoilers.

It isn't Piggot.


Today will only have one main update. I'm going to call the poll here.

On QQ, Victoria Dallon has won.

On SB, Mouse Protector has won.

If votes coincide on one character in the future, I'll double the length of the interlude.

Mouse Protector will be up soon, then a main update later tonight, hopefully followed by a Victoria Dallon interlude.

 

[Biigoh]

[X] Glory Girl

 

[Harbin]

3.X ​

With a tap and a blink she'll be there,
It's high time for villains to care,
She'll be there when asked,
The villainous forces harassed,
It's- ​

"Shit." Mouse Protector muttered, trying to remember the words. The lyrics weren't as good as it was in season one, but this one had more feel to it, y'know? The whole fucking thing was messed up at that point, so she just hummed along with the mental tune as she peered into the window. It was shuttered, so she couldn't see anything, but that's what the tinker lenses were for. Tapping into wavelengths and translating blah blah blah blah.

Tinkertech, great. (Nerd.) Just tell her what it's for and when she should bring it in.

It let her see through walls. Three people waving guns around, one standing around looking bored. Against a board. No, no. that wouldn't work nearly as well verbally. Another one, his hands out at people.

Two probable capes, three idiots with guns.

"Got anything?" She tapped at her throat mic. "Yo, Celsius."

"That didn't get old years ago, Mouse," Fahrenheit responded, rubbing at her temples.

"Yeah, but Celsius is so much cooler." She listened for the telltale groan, her lips quirking up as she gave a mocking salute to her backup.

"None of them are manipulating heat, as far as I can tell. One has a cigarette. Another's just standing there. No weapons for either. One has a- gun that's jury-rigged. One sec. It's full auto. The others are normal. One full auto pistol, one normal, one semi-auto rifle." Her voice paused. "Can't get a good enough image on them to ID them."

"Dang. Was hoping to get a few things ready for them before going in." She pouted, taking a grappling hook and firing it up at the roof. It was more like a piton gun, but that just dissolved into background noise when they started talking about the specifics of how it would work.

Mouse Protector paid enough attention, okay? Enough of that explainy-sciencey-bullshit. She had an image to keep.

And maybe she liked rubbing them the wrong way.

Heh. That's what she said.

The grappling hook tightened, and she scaled the side of the wall, making her way up to the top. There were already a few lollygaggers, and she gave them a little wave, then a shooing motion.

Guns were more dangerous than powers. Powers were stupid and unfair, but it was more likely they'd control their shots, out of fear of the Birdcage. Someone who'd made their pistol full auto-

There were less probable moral compunctions behind that bitch, and a few remarks she wanted to smear in their face about overcompensation.

"They say they'd like to negotiate for the safe release of the hostages." Fahrenheit said, as Mouse Protector went to work on the lock.

"Mmhm? Milk'n'cookies? Partridge in a pear tree?" Mouse Protector made a disinterested noise, peering at the lock. "Time limit?"

"Ten minutes."

"They better not want snickerdoodles. I can't make cookies that fast." She withdrew the lockpicks from the door, turning the doorknob experimentally. "Code for the door?"

"Five Oh Two Two Zero."

"Bless you. Thank you." She pushed the buttons in and glanced upward, checking for any additional alarms. "Electrical sources? Insulated anything?"

"No, and no. Alarms are already taken care of, mostly." Her voice sounded fairly confident.

Mouse Protector frowned. "Mostly. Am I going to walk into a Dragon-bot here or what?"

"No, just the glass ones are hardwired. Sorry."

"Well and here I was all for the dramatic skylight entrance." She glanced over at the rooftop. Would have been rather difficult without the skylight. "Alright, heading in. Wish me luck, Fairy."

"No." Fahrenheit said flatly.

"See that's why nobody likes you." Mouse protector made the switch to subvocalizing seamlessly, continuing down the steps.

"Uh huh."

"Come on, throw me some softballs here. Gonna have to go straight to an interview after this. Prep me. I'm ready, coach." She cajoled, very, very quietly.

She peeked through the door, looking through the metal with her lenses. Ten, twenty three, thirty three, Two of them weren't in range. "You got eyes on those last dudes? They pulled a vanishing act."

"Yeah, One is hanging around vault. Other is inside, cape. One's on the phone, other room. Good guys trying to stall for time."

"Well. That's nice of them." Mouse Protector scanned the door up and down, looking. "Trap on the door. Connected to a charge. These guys are assholes."

"Guy on phone isn't happy." A pause. "Wants a Mover, now."

"Hey, I'm a Mover. And a lover." Another groan. Mm. The best part about it. She efficiently stripped the makeshift trap apart, wrinkling her nose as she discarded the pieces next to the door. "Alright, Fairy. Showtime."

"I'll prioritize civs. My limit is three misfires." Fahrenheit said. Mouse protector nodded, disengaging her sword from her leg's armor. She clenched her right fist, opening it, causing her buckler to clk clik chk into place.

It could have been silent. Just like her blunted sword didn't need to make the humming that it did when she charged it up.

Pff. Whatever.

She opened the door, and walked in. Relaxed, not a care in the world. Two hostages near the door. They looked at her, and uttered gasps of (probably relief) adoration. She held a finger to her lips and winked. There was that guy at the table, his back currently turned to her, yelling angrily into the phone.

Mouse Protector tapped one of the hostages, and a point blossomed in her mind. At any moment now, she could grab onto that point, and suddenly the world would funnel into that brilliant point.

And then she'd be there.

She walked up behind the angry dude on the phone, who was angrily gesticulating at the lobby. Was he expecting them to notice? It wasn't like anyone except her was looking.

"Excuse me." She tapped him on the shoulder with her shield hand, and another point was in her mind. "Do you know where I can find the bathroom?"

"What the f-" She slammed him in the stomach with a knee, then reached for the other point.

The world churned, she whirled, and was back on her feet next to the stunned hostage. She winked at him conspiratorially.

Then she grabbed the other point.

What a rush.

"This is a PG-13 adventure, sir. I'm going to have to-" She ducked under his first swing. His fists and wrists were thickening, becoming rock.

"You should see someone about that." Dermatologist took way too long to say. She slammed the buckler into his gut, and electrified it. "Skin conditions are serious."

"Fu-gighghhl-" He jerked and spasmed, and she patted him on the head, leaving the Foam blister there.

She grabbed the hostage point, discarding the angry dude's one, and watched the rapidly solidifying foam silence him. "I still think he should see a doctor about that."

"Two are moving toward his location," came Fahrenheit's voice. "Normals, two guns. Full auto checking on other hostages."

"Thanks for the update. On it." Mouse Protector sprung into action, looping around the corner into the lobby. She glanced around. Three hostages here.

"Hey! Where can I get some service around here? I'm missing my lunch break for this!" Her voice was a shout, amplified by her equipment, yelled into the bank proper.

crak

The bullet whizzed by her head. It hadn't missed. Not really. It was easy for her to see the gun's barrel, and her agility allowed her to tilt her head out of the way, making it look like she had just adjusted her position.

How long she had worked on making the movement look natural was not a topic of discussion.

"Misfiring." Mouse Protector heard Fahrenheit's first syllable and exploded forward into movement. Her buckler came up in front of her. The stylized mouse raising the sword into the air heralded her approach.

Marty Mouse was her mascot, after all.

chk

Her sword caught the edge of the gun as he tried to fire again. The blade vnnmmmed into action as it contacted the metal, carving through it without stopping, she glanced to the side, snapping her foot up to kick him in the head- point- and raising her buckler to block a shot from the other direction. "Guns? Do you think you can stop me-"

She flipped backward, using only her right hand to spur her movement as she watched for the other robber's response. He leveled the rifle, tightening on the trigger- and she was gone, drawing on that point.

"The great Patriot-" There was no need for mindgames with this lot. She flickered into existence, kicking the first robber in the head again. "-with bullets?"

"Wait." She affected shock. Avoid firing lines toward hostages. That one was too risky- block. "Was that reveal not supposed to come out yet?"

"Joking, jeez, tough crowd." Rush forward- "Misfiring-" his gun clicked. She kicked, (Grab point) her sword slicing the gun out of the air, and again before it hit the ground.

She tilted her head toward the pieces as they fell. "And can still cut a tomato."

Still watching the robber as he grabbed a desk lamp to try hit her with. That one was just too easy.

"Knock knock." She pulled, and was behind him. "Who's here!"

Her leg hooked around his, and she pushed him forward. Didn't bother electrifying the shield.

She raised her sword into the air, putting her boot on his back before making a sweeping bow. "Couldn't have done it without a little help from the audience."

She secured them both, heading off toward the vault- changing direction, and heading off toward the vault.

"Full auto is in the vault getting cape buddy." Fahrenheit sounded tired. Preventing bullets from firing exhausted her. Her real limit was probably two, but she was game for another one.

Mouse Protector trusted her. "So, which lead-in haven't I used for a while?"

"You actually want me to check?" Fahrenheit's voice was a sigh.

The hero raised the hilt of her sword to her nose, scratching an itch. "Nah, they just blend together a bit. Gotta keep it fresh for the viewers, y'know?"

She smiled. "Last two. Let's do this."
"Probably a metallokinetic. Seems to be slow, from how he's opening the deposit boxes. Might have fine control."

"Thankyew kindly, Pardner." Mouse Protector glanced around, heading further into the bank. So far, so good. No hostage injuries or casualties. Good stuff.

Moving on. She made sure her steps made noise on the marble floor, whistling this season's theme as she stepped forward. It seemed only appropriate, and it's not like they had any hostages down there.

The grate-door in the vault was twisted, bent away from the frame so that it could be opened. "Hello? Mouse Protector, here with your pizza? You asked for extra cheese, pineapples and-"

A deposit box came flying her way, at a speed fast enough that she had to flick her body backward and down, flexing her legs and abdominals to throw herself back to her feet. "No tip, then?"

Another box. Dive to the right. Slide to a stop.

She leapt forward into another aisle of half-mangled deposit boxes, confronted by a man raising up a pistol.

taktaktak

Mouse Protector threw herself flat, feeling the bullets ping off the metal as her body hit the ground. Ow. Thrust arms downward, propel upward, track gun with shield- shift legs, lunge, no, backflip- legs tensed push against ground as hard as possible in air, gun tracking-

taktaktaktak

The bullets couldn't catch up to her. Foot brought down-going to miss, adjust, shoulder instead. Point! Step off-

And then the deposit box hit her in the left arm, sending the sword flying away. "No-" she gasped, tumbling to the ground.

"God damn, it's Mouse Protector." The cape was six feet, easy, wrapped around in metal and dross, forming discolored ridges around his shoulders and legs.

"Hey. No swearing. Violence is fine, so let's keep it clean. Nothing below the belt. Anything over-" The full auto pistol pointed at her.

"You ever shut up?" The voice was furious, pained, and the man clutched at his shoulder with his free hand, keeping the pistol trained on her.

"Nah," she kept her eyes trained on his trigger finger, waiting. Dramatic moments weren't good unless they were close, and she had a lot of experience. "I prefer to keep up a dialogue, y'know? Keep things friendly and all sorts of-"

He pulled.

She pulled first.

"Intimate." She breathed into his ear, pressing the shield into his back, grabbing his gun hand with the other and twisting. The electrical charge fired, and the gun kept firing in time with the man's spasms.

"Whoops. Seems like he didn't last very long, huh? How about you, buster? Got what it takes to take down justice itself?" The cape's projectiles were chunks and pieces of metal, thrown at her with varying speeds. It was simple to dodge most of them, and she rolled, grabbing at the pouches on her belt, pushing forward into the flurry. She bounced off the walls, moving in a manner that was never in the same place at once, tantalizing her opponent with each shot. Oh look, that one almost hit! Oh boy, you were so close that time! Come on baby, work it!

And then she was in front of him, not two feet away, her gloved hand reaching out and slapping him across the face. Point.

"I thought you loved me, whateveryournameis." She pouted. His face was furious confusion. The foam pack adhered to his cheek. He tore it off before it could expand, but it caught his arm, limiting his movement. "And now you won't even take a token from me?"

She found the time to languish, a hand against her forehead. He raised his free hand, hurling more metal.

Mouse Protector pulled. She was in midair, using his shoulders to flip herself, (foam pack on back) pushing off and tweaking his nose. "I got yer nose, evildoer. If yer good and come quietly, I'll give it back."

She narrowed her eyes at him, blowing smoke off her fingers. The foam pack went off. This time, he didn't have the ability to remove it fast enough.

"You okay, Fairy? Got awful quiet there." She walked toward the still-twitching normal, kicking the gun away and securing his hands.

"Yeah. Good work, Mouse Protector. SWAT is moving in now." Fahrenheit sounded exhausted.

"No biggie. You say that like I don't always do good work." She smirked, looking around the chaotic, nearly-destroyed room. "Mouse Protector is the best, Fairy. I'm her number one fan. I'm at every public appearance she's at. Every signing? I've been there. Been to her house and everything. Her bed is fantastic."

"That's because you are her, Mouse Protector." The voice was world-weary, but didn't hold much bite.

"Oh, right!" She grinned. "Let's go talk to the news people, then. Thanks for the assist."

 

[pepperjack]

Haven't read the chapter yet, but you've tripped my limerick flag.

With a tap and a blink she'll be there,
It's high time for villains to care,
She'll be there when asked,
The villainous forces harassed,
It's-

Click to shrink...

With a tap and a blink she'll be there,
It's high time for villains to care,
She'll be there when asked,
The villains harassed,
It's [Jane Alexandra Sinclair!]

Meter is important, damn it.

Now to read the rest...

 

[Harbin]

Meter is important, damn it.

Now to read the rest...

Click to shrink...

Mouse Protector cares little for your 'meter' and 'proper grammar rules'.

With a tap and a blink she'll be there,
It's high time for villains to care,
She'll be there when asked,
The villains harassed,
It's a bad day for them to swear!

It's Mouse Protector!
(Mouse Protector!)

Leaping into the fight!
Her sword held steady!
Her board held ready!
Let evil beware its biiiite!

It's Mouse Protector!
(Mouse Protector!)

[Guitar Solo, complete with drums]

Friend to the weak and strong! (Mouse Protector!)
Steadfast buddies will never end,
With her you can't go wrong! (Mouse Protector!)
Against evil we'll always defeeeeend!

Mouse Protector!

[Cut to Marty Mouse]​

 

[pepperjack]

...and apropos of nothing recent, I just now realized that the chalk Taylor combines with the can of pepper spray to form her anti-Spohia bomb is a call-back to the "useless" climber's chalk that Taylor adds to her original kit in canon and never ends up using for anything. Nice to see it performing a useful function here.

 

[dasstan]

...and apropos of nothing recent, I just now realized that the chalk Taylor combines with the can of pepper spray to form her anti-Spohia bomb is a call-back to the "useless" climber's chalk that Taylor adds to her original kit in canon and never ends up using for anything. Nice to see it performing a useful function here.

Click to shrink...

Ooh, nice catch, Mr. Cheese.

 

[Ack]

Mouse Protector is hilariously awesome.