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Realignment [Worm]

Reader mode
Shadelight said:
Nope, that would be OP. Gotta have balance!
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But... but... *sniffle* :D

I've thought about it myself, and it's both justification for involvement of other characters and a fairly reasonable limiter, but I can also think of a number of situations where it just won't be enough or the nearby capes don't have the right ability even if she can tag them. In many ways, she's almost as squishy as a Thinker and here she doesn't have an actual swarm to act for her at a distance. My personal opinion is that she should have some kind of "permanent gain" mechanic should be present somewhere, although maybe not a fast one. That said, I'm equally sure you're going somewhere with this that I haven't considered since "small-scale short-range temporary power-copying" does not seem very useful, knowing what's arriving in the bay soon, and I'm sure you have something planned for that (this is one of the reasons I'm not an author. I can't figure stuff like that out that well).
 
TheLostArchivist said:
But... but... *sniffle* :D

I've thought about it myself, and it's both justification for involvement of other characters and a fairly reasonable limiter, but I can also think of a number of situations where it just won't be enough or the nearby capes don't have the right ability even if she can tag them. In many ways, she's almost as squishy as a Thinker and here she doesn't have an actual swarm to act for her at a distance. My personal opinion is that she should have some kind of "permanent gain" mechanic should be present somewhere, although maybe not a fast one. That said, I'm equally sure you're going somewhere with this that I haven't considered since "small-scale short-range temporary power-copying" does not seem very useful, knowing what's arriving in the bay soon, and I'm sure you have something planned for that (this is one of the reasons I'm not an author. I can't figure stuff like that out that well).
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With Amy's power, Taylor can change her body however she wants, and you know how creative she can get. Additionally, she has another 'permanent gain' aspect already - Tinker powers. Since she can yoink the power by touching either the tinkertech made by it or any tangible thing caused by said tinkertech (like, say, a laser blast from Kid Win's pistol), she'd technically be able to keep that power as long as she remembers to maintain a piece of its tinkertech every once in a while.

For additional semi-permanent gain, Alexandria's thorn may help as well:
  • Alexandria (Rebecca): Increased thorn/spike controllability, removes current container's attention upkeep requirement, requires a strong amount of focus to dismiss, returns to thorn form if spike containing it is dismissed
 
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    Lisa​

    Have you ever woken up in the morning with an odd sense of foreboding? That change was coming, and that you were powerless to stop it? I have. Rather frequently, actually. Of course, that usually just meant that it was my nerves acting out for some reason, but lately I've been noticing it even more. I never dwelled on it for long, but it still unnerved me.

    As I peeked through a barely-open window, though, watching a man get tortured by two others, squeezing Rose's hand as she huddled right next to me, that feeling felt much more tangible.

    Since last night, as we all expected, Amy and Vic have been radio silent. No messages, no phone calls, and their numbers were unreachable in the way they usually were when turned off. It annoyed me to no end that the woman those two were unfortunate enough to have for a mother had decided to limit their access to communication in such a time as a city-wide gang war. Considering they'd still, more than likely, continue patrolling — even if under surveillance — that lack of a safety net could prove fatal.

    I planned on rectifying that before the weekend.

    As for me and Taylor… Well. We slept until noon again, unsurprisingly. Waking up at around midday was slowly becoming the norm ever since the bombing, and thank fuck Danny didn't barge in that night — seeing us gone would've made him freak out. Taylor's running routine took a breather as well, and with Danny letting her play hooky we had more time to focus on our cape exploits, especially data-gathering and theorycrafting.

    At midnight, though, obviously, we'd gone out again, hoping to check another merc spot in the northern Docks — this time, it was a mediocre appliance parts store with some questionable prices and clientele. However, while it was only a five-minute walk away from the place that we'd cased just two nights ago, we didn't reach it in the end thanks to my partner: on our way there, her enhanced eyesight let her spot some aggressive happenings going on in the window of a second-floor apartment.

    Thus, we were now looking in from a rusted-over fire escape.

    "Fuckin' talk, you drugged up bastard!" Exclaimed one of the kidnappers, slugging their prisoner. The third guy was keeping the latter steady, holding both the chair and one shoulder in a tight grip. The chair in question was one of those foldable ones, in the far right corner of a trashed and filthy room, and its occupant's assailants were turned away from us.

    Said occupant moaned in pain.

    "'Hurrgh'," the aggressive one mocked. "I need more than just 'hurrgh', freak. Talk! You know something, so better speak before I break… your goddamn… bones!" I winced from the three kicks at the end there. "Stop fuckin' sobbing, you look pathetic. No one's here to bail y- Eh?"

    The previously-silent man interrupted him with something in… Japanese, I'd assume? Sure sounded like it. Whatever it was, the speech prompted a small, hushed conversation, granting the beat-up guy a reprieve. Judging by the voices alone, I'd say Mister Anger Issues was in his twenties, same with their whimpering victim, while Creepy McStareson was older by a decade or two. The way the last one observed, rather hands-off from the situation… Was this a test or something? A trial for the younger gang member? Interrogation 101, maybe?

    Inflection used for 'Ren' suggests it being a name. Violent male is called 'Ren'.​

    Not particularly useful, but I'll take it. Anything else?

    Calm male is called 'Osamu'.​

    Names aren't helpful right now, power.

    Captive was undressed by Ren and Osamu prior to-​

    I can literally see his coat on the ground! It's in the middle of the room!

    Captive currently heavily intoxicated.​

    Oh for fu-

    "Did you find a way to get in yet?"

    "No," I replied to Rose while trying not to let my frustration be known. Beyond the usual 'Are likely armed' and 'Are affiliated with Azn Bad Boys', my power hadn't given me anything to work with yet.

    As it was a bit past midnight already, there was barely any natural light, and the only unnatural one inside the place came from a phone in the hand of Ren. Both him and his buddy were thus difficult to see, their silhouettes annoyingly dark due to contrast that made my eyes itch if I stared for too long, so there was much less easy info that I could glean from things such as their clothes.

    Note to self: ask Nymph for Darkvision.

    My partner shifted again in the meantime, now looking at me from the side. "I-I don't think we can get in silently."

    Intent on stopping the altercation before violence resumes.​

    "Like, the front door's probably locked-" Rose continued, her gaze darting around.

    …Shit, did she not notice yet?

    "-and the window will probably make a sound… Maybe I can-"

    "Rose," I called out after sighing.

    She met my eyes instantly. "What? You got something?"

    "Just… wait a minute. Don't rush in yet. I need more time."

    Her frown deepened in thought. "But-"

    "Ah!" The junkie yelped again, grabbing our attention before sniffling. "N-No, man, stop," he slurred, which was addressed to the quiet guy, Osamu. Ren was the one watching now, rhythmically tapping the ground with his foot, as his friend-slash-mentor stood in front of their captive before leaning closer, one arm folded behind his back.

    "It would seem that my friend's attempts haven't been fruitful yet," Osamu said. His accent was heavier than Ren's, and he sounded more… noble? Confident? Full of himself. "How disappointing. You see…" The man did something, causing the chair-bound druggie to whine. "...There are certain benefits to being my friend. For example, this-"

    Is dislocating his target's fingers. Is experienced with common torture methods. Is attempting to leverage his target's intoxicated state for acquisition of information.​

    "-would be stopped, and you'd not be forced to endure such a state of undress. I might even let you go home, if… You're not listening, are you?" He stopped.

    "I-I am, man, j-j-just pleeease-"

    "Good." Osamu nodded. "Now, then… The first step to starting a friendship is learning one's name, don't you think?"

    "Mhm…"

    "So? What's yours?"

    "J-Jake."

    "Excellent! You can call me 'Han', Jake. Do you know what the next step to friendship is?"

    "Uh… A h-hug?"

    Clearly, that took Osamu by surprise just as much as me, since he burst out laughing, straightening out and clasping his hands behind his back. "'A hug'," he repeated, shaking his head. "No, Jake, I don't think so." Leisurely, the guy began walking to the right of the corner, then to the left; repeat.

    Jake was, at this point, just following Osamu with his eyes — or, at least, that's what I assumed, as his shadow's head didn't move an inch.

    "That may come after a friendship is established, but not before," Osamu continued. "Before, Jake, comes exchange — in fact, every friendship is one." He waved his hand, "Or a transaction, if you will. A trade. Nothing comes for free, Jake, so one must give something first before expecting… reciprocation." He stopped, turned to Jake and leaned in again. "Are you picking up what I'm putting down?"

    Rose bumped my shoulder with her own. "So?"

    I cringed. "Wait, Rose. Just a bit more."

    She looked like she wanted to say something else, but in the end she just nodded, which I was thankful for.

    I turned back to the interrogation.

    "...Very prestigious, yes." Damn, I missed something.

    "S-So you're l-like-" Jake began, but then cut himself off. Why? Like what?

    I exhaled through my nose.

    Even with the sentence incomplete, though, the ABB member understood its meaning. "Exactly!" He nodded empathically. "You must understand, then, why I'm doing this. Right, Jake? Would things not be similar, were they reversed? Or if some of those fascist dogs came by your place instead?.."

    …Wait a second.

    Osamu is discussing his position within the Azn Bad Boys hierarchy. Confidence, age and experience points to important status within aforementioned hierarchy. Jake's comment, Osamu's expectation of mutual understanding and mention of territory owned by Jake or Jake's group points to Jake having a similarly-important status to Osamu within hierarchy of a group other than the Azn Bad Boys.​

    My eyes widened as he went on. "No way," I breathed — my hunch was right.

    Osamu's derogatory mention of the Empire suggests Jake not being part of it either.​

    There, there was the reason that made me willing to stall our ingress — Jake was a gang member too…

    …But not of the Empire, or ABB.

    I sincerely hoped that said gang was one of those that just fell apart naturally. Those that didn't… they usually had capes; more unknown variables to keep track of. While I abhorred being under the snake's thumb, his resources were quite useful. In such moments, I begrudgingly missed them — having all the answers was addictive.

    Ugh.

    "Neb, what do you mean, 'no way'?" Rose was looking at me, alert.

    "Jake," I glanced at him, "The guy in the chair. He's a ganger too."

    "How can you tell? He's in his underwear. Or-"

    "Clothes are helpful, but they're not the only thing you should be looking out for." I motioned with my head towards the victim. "See how he's not telling them whatever they want to know? People without secrets don't do that." Usually. "And regardless — Osamu was comparing his position to Jake's just now. Both are lieutenants, I think. Or capes."

    My teammate looked back into the window, clearly frowning. "Fuck." A pause later, I noticed some black sand coalesce into a thorn, though it was dismissed just as quickly. "No Shaker effects, at least."

    "Smart," I approved. "Hmm…"

    Flagrant usage of real names and lack of clothes that conceal facial features suggests low likelihood of Ren and Jake being parahumans. Osamu's position within the Azn Bad Boys hierarchy and usage of a fake name around non-members suggests-​

    -nothing, because Ren — a newbie — knew who he was. I strongly doubted that the gang's opsec was so shit as to hand out the civilian names of its capes to fresh members. The only exception I could think of would be Osamu being an open cape, but that invited far too much heat to be viable for someone in his position.

    And yeah, Lung was technically an open cape, but that was only out of necessity due to his power. Were the transformation's activation different — a toggle, for example, like Shadow Stalker's — he'd not have the problem of involuntary wardrobe malfunctions; he could choose when to go dragon at will.

    "Earlier, you said 'ganger', but… which one?" Rose murmured in contemplation. "Jake doesn't look like he's Empire. Is this just the ABB weeding out traitors or something?"

    Lightly, I smirked. She was paying attention, which was a good sign. "No, Rose, that's the curveball — I think he's from neither."

    She set her jaw. "...A third."

    I hummed. "If we ignore Coil's, yeah." His was less of a gang and more of a private military, though. I tended to think of his organization separately due to a multitude of reasons, but the main one was that he was a Bond villain, and unpredictable to me… machiavellian. While Kaiser tended to appear like that too, he didn't have a Thinker power to support him; Lung, meanwhile, was a brute — pun not intended. They were simple. The only gang leader I could compare Coil to was Accord, who was holed up in Boston, and even then, Coil seemed more powerful.

    "Did you know about this?" Rose asked.

    My eyes steadily followed Osamu as he started approaching Ren again, but for a moment I flicked them to my partner, a single eyebrow raised. "You seriously think I wouldn't have told you?" I shook my head. "No, this is a surprise for me too."

    "Alright." She faintly bumped my shoulder with hers. "I believe you."

    I smiled… then frowned. "Okay, this might be bad." Ren had just left the room, leaving Osamu holding his phone.

    "Or an opening," Rose stated, becoming eerily still as more thorns began appearing. "If I manage to get inside, I can get him."

    "He did leave his phone, so… Yeah." I looked at her. "Try the door on the roof?"

    She hummed. "I don't feel any chain on it, at least."

    …Excuse me?

    Is using tactile feedback from thorns to scout ahead.​

    Oh. Right. "Okay." What else did she need? "Is just one me-thorn enough for you?"

    An eyeroll. "It's just two guys, Neb. I'll be fine."

    "I'll grab Osamu's attention when I see a thorn fly in, then. Go," I said. "But be careful."

    "I will."

    "You better."

    Letting me have the final word, she drew her knife and started climbing up the fire escape.

    The gang lieutenants, meanwhile, were still in the room, as I'd expected: Osamu was using a handkerchief to clean up all the blood on Jake's face. Really, it was quite odd to see the former's attempts to buddy up with the latter — normally, the ABB and the Empire either crushed their opposition or subsumed them. Another odd thing to note was him dislocating Jake's fingers earlier — did he really think that would be forgotten? Or the brutish treatment from Ren before that?

    Jake's current state includes lowered attention span.​

    …Fair.

    Picking up the discarded coat from the ground, the faux-noble Asian dusted it off and draped it over the back of its owner's chair. "My friend will return with the rest of your clothes shortly. As for the bindings… Hm. Care for another exchange, Jake?" He asked with a head tilt.

    "Ex-exchange?"

    "Like earlier. Do you not remember?" He probably didn't. Neither did I, for that matter. When was this?

    "...Not really." Nailed it.

    Intoxication symptoms are closest to those caused by long-term use of cannabis.​

    I didn't have any firsthand experience to dispute that, so whatever. Sure.

    With a sigh, Osamu crossed his arms, still keeping the phone light trained on Jake. "Earlier, you told me of your position within the… 'Dealers'?" We got a name!

    "R-Reefer Dealers." Cannabis confirmed, then. The name itself though? It was… intriguing. This felt connected to Skidmark's death, somehow — the guy was a known drug user, for one. A rivalry gone wrong?

    "Yes," Osamu said with a nod. "The Reefer Dealers. How many capes do you currently have employed?"

    "Nah. Nahhh." Jake shook his head. "'S a s-secret, man. Can't tell."

    Lack of surprise at the question and slight audible strain in an attempt to focus during the answer point to there being at least one parahuman within the Reefer Dealers.​

    Wonderful. Another headache.

    And Osamu definitely picked up on this too.

    "Shame." Speaking of whom. "But surely you can tell me something, at least?" He seemed to have touched Jake's dislocated fingers, eliciting a whimper. "Painkillers aren't free either, I'm afraid. You'll have to do better." God, this was creepy to witness. Why did it feel like Osamu was training Jake? As if the latter was but a dog… Memory fuckery always freaked me out, and this was close enough to make me queasy.

    I shuddered, then looked around; Rose hadn't returned, so she was probably inside by now. Hopefully, she was okay — her knife alone would be all she'd need to take Ren on. The guy did have some muscle, and was definitely armed with something, but just one shallow cut would put him at a disadvantage, and an ambush worked perfectly with that.

    Still, as I clutched my pistol, I was ready to go in guns blazing. I prayed that I didn't have to, but if Rose needed me… I would.

    Osamu leaned in towards Jake again, but not as deep as he did before. "I'm waiting, Jake, and I'd rather not." He waved the phone light in a slow arc in front of the bound man's face. "Speak."

    I felt chills from that change of tone.

    Jake sputtered. "T-The hell d'you even w-want?"

    "You are high enough up the ladder to have-" Osamu was interrupted by a snort.

    "Heh," Jake lightly chuckled. "'High'."

    My urge to facepalm was growing rapidly.

    The snickers continued as Osamu sighed, but he then swung his arm without any warning. The resulting slap was so loud and impactful that it reverberated from the walls of this empty room, all the while Jake began moaning again, not even able to rub his cheek.

    "Focus. We don't have all night," Osamu chided him, annoyed. "Now, as I was saying, you are in an important enough position to have been able to see at least something of import, lately. Give me something to work with, and I will forgive you for your earlier transgression." Oh? Transgression, you say?

    "B-But-"

    "This place is not a cemetery. Were it Empire territory, I wouldn't care at all about what you were doing, but this isn't Empire territory. And," the older gangster continued, straightening out, "I don't recall it being yours, either."

    Jake hummed in an exaggerated fashion, lolling his head to the other side. "Dunno, man. Y-You'll, uh… You'll let me go?" I strongly dou-

    "Yes." Okay, Mister Nice Guy. Will you buy him a six-course meal later as well?

    "Pinky promise?" Jake asked in a semi-lucid tone, making me grin.

    Osamu choked back a swear or two. "...Pinky promise." I should've brought popcorn.

    "Fine. Fine?.. Fiiine, I'll tell ya sum'n." Jake chuckled again. "I-Imagine this, right: Bossman 'n' Bosswench, grabbing all the dough, getting all the good shit. Big fuckin' thing they got goin' on, I'm tellin' ya. It's fuckin' metal. Don't tell 'em I said anything, but…"

    "But?.." Osamu prompted, curious.

    "...But it's a present."

    "For whom?"

    "Your dragon daddy."

    Osamu slapped him again, just as hard.

    "T-The hell w-was that for?" Jake whined. "I wasn't lying!"

    "That was for phrasing it the way you just did. For your information, I'm older than Lung, and he'd be an awful father besides." He crouched, looking up at his prisoner. "But that 'present' you mentioned — what kind is it? The appeasing kind, or the lethal one?" What an odd focus on the word 'lethal', there. I could swear he sounded almost… excited.

    Was Osamu just intrigued academically, or was he not that big of a fan of Lung?

    Unfortunately, my free trial of clues must've finally come to an end, as a groan-like sound came from the hallway, causing both gang members to freeze up. It was oddly throaty, a bit wet but raspy, and got muffled almost as quickly as it started.

    That was Ren. Shit, and they noticed! Alright, in that case...

    …Improv time.

    While Osamu rose up from his crouch, I quietly opened the window all the way. My new pose was casual, with an arm supporting my head from below, its elbow touching the bottom of the frame. The other arm's hand — my gun hand — came up to my sternum and tapped in the activation sequence. The brooch that was there, my mask; then my hands and my hair as well — they all began slowly regaining their glow over the span of a second and a half.

    No doubt spotting the light from my hair particles, Osamu swiftly whirled on his feet, but the sound and sight of me turning the safety off my pistol caused him to pause.

    "Why hello there, Han," I greeted the gangster glibly, grinning. I opted to needle him through the fake name that was given to Jake just a bit ago. The most irritating part, however, was Osamu shining the light from Jake's phone right at my face — it was a challenge to just keep my eyes open, really, let alone to meet his without squinting.

    Phone's model is Nokia 6500. Slide variant. Using app to utilize camera flash as-​

    That is literally irrelevant.

    Osamu, meanwhile, sent a glare at the gun that was pointed at him.

    Recognizes you. Is weighing his options for escape. Unsure of how threatening you are. Unsure of your power.​

    The recognition could be a problem, but really? Yeah, I could work with this.

    "You know," I began, drawling slightly, "Ren's not as smart as I hoped he would be. Didn't last even thirty seconds — do you guys really recruit anyone these days?" My grin morphed more into a smirk. Keeping the guy's focus on me and stalling for Rose to sneak into the room was my primary objective right now, and having his back to the doorway was paramount. Additionally, an attempt was being made at making him think that Ren getting caught was my doing. That way, he'd hopefully assume that I was alone — just a cape with long range, plus a gun.

    "I didn't expect to meet a novice," Osamu commented. "What have you managed to hear, little girl?"

    "Oh, just bits and pieces."

    Is about to unhols-

    "Don't try reaching," I warned. "I'm faster."

    The man sneered but acquiesced. "As if. I doubt you've even shot it once."

    I shrugged, keeping my pistol aimed at his center mass, my eyes on his. Slowly, I then entered through the opened window. "Believe what you want." Osamu hadn't moved yet, for which I was secretly thankful, but him still actively blinding me with that phone light was getting on my nerves at a rapid pace.

    "Let's dispense the preamble, then: why are you here, Nebula? What do you want?"

    I put my now-free hand on my hip. "First of all, it's 'dispense with the preamble'. Second… Well, isn't it obvious? You, your little friend and your date there have just won a trip straight behind bars."

    "Lucky me."

    "Mhm!"

    Osamu looked around as much as he could without rotating his torso, or his head. "And where's your partner, then?" Well, fuck. The guy had intel on us both.

    "Partner? What partner?" Just buy it already, you aristocrat.

    "Mm… 'Kuroi Bara'," he muttered. "Black Rose? Yes. Black Rose."

    I tilted my head to the side. "Never heard of 'em." Come on!

    "You two have been prancing around my territory ever since the explosion," he deadpanned. "I'm not blind, young lady."

    "Damn." Whatever. "You got me. She's still busy right now- But wait, Han! Your territory? Not even gonna mention your daddy? For shame." I wiggled my eyebrows. If the taunt worked, then why change it? I was going to milk it for all it was worth.

    For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw something in the corner of my vision, but I wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or not — I was basically bantering blind. If that was a thorn, I prayed that Rose would just get this over with already. For my eyes' sake, if anything, really.

    I just focused on not reacting.

    "You seem to be forgetting your place, girl." My, how feisty. "I'm important. Not like, say, my captured associate-"

    "-But like that drugged-up gimp of yours in the corner." I nodded once. "Got it. Real impressive, I'm sure. Prestigious."

    I had a feeling that Osamu was close to blowing a gasket or reaching for his gun. His posture was even more rigid than before, and I swore I could hear his teeth grinding.

    "Seriously, though," I continued, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. "Did Lung burn your dinner again? Trouble at home? What's the matter, Little Dragon? Hm?"

    "Do not," the gangster hissed, "insinuate this further, or you'll re-"

    "Huh," Jake half-grunted. "H-Hello."

    Is surprised by unknown intruder. Unknown intruder is Black Rose. Is-​

    Finally.

    Several rapid footsteps were followed by a lunge from my wayward teammate, with Osamu too slow to turn around and dodge — he was bodily tackled to the ground, while Ren's phone clattered somewhere close to me, shining its light at the ceiling. I couldn't see shit with the rapid change of luminance, but kept my gun trained on the two grappling at each other, noticing several slicing and stabbing motions from Rose.

    Paralytic agent applied to left bicep. Paralytic agent applied to right calf. Para-​

    Power? Shush. I'm blind, but I'm not stupid.

    Blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the blindspots, I reached into a pouch on my utility belt. Osamu's struggling was getting slower already, with my partner managing to hold his arms down. I walked closer, taking out my Venus handcuffs, and offered them to her with an outstretched hand — each of us only had space for one pair, and hers was busy tasting Ren's wrists at the moment.

    "Thanks," Rose huffed. "That didn't go as planned. Sorry."

    "'Just two guys', huh?" Rubbing my eyes, I helped flip Osamu over. "Whatever, don't worry. You got 'em," I reassured her. Then, the Venus handcuffs were attached, canceling all unwanted movements. "There."

    Much like an IV drip, the handcuffs injected a stream of paralytic liquid to keep the target immobile for up to an hour, but not too much as to mute them or cause health problems. While we did have some zip ties on both of us, they weren't as secure as the handcuffs, or as thorough — getting out of the former was easy; out of our handcuffs? Yeah, good luck.

    "So-"

    "Your involvement will be known soon enough," Osamu interrupted. "Do you-" A grunt. "-really wish to risk your lives like that? Many of those under me aren't as stable as I would prefer."

    The Azn Bad Boys have moles within at least one governmental organization.​

    "You won't scare us into releasing you," my teammate answered before looking at me. "Do I shut him up?" Her knife was next to his neck, angled slightly diagonally.

    "Nah. I've got questions."

    Rose hummed. "In that case, let's move to another room. This one's too visible." True.

    "And we'll need more chairs," I added.

    "That too." She nodded. "Let's go."

    ▲​

    Our little session of Fishing for Answers lasted a bit more than half of an hour, unfortunately: Osamu was trying to be clever, his buddy Ren was obtuse and rude, while Jake checked out before we'd even gotten to him.

    Still, we'd gotten something, at least.

    The main thing of note was Osamu confirming my bomb Tinker theory, explicitly: he was absolutely livid at her exploits, as a few of his friends didn't survive the bombing. The now-absent Bakuda was under Lung's direct oversight, and they were indeed preparing for a hostile takeover; however, something went wrong that night — it was her lab that blew up so spectacularly. Nobody knew if it was just an accident, an attack, a backstab, or suicide. Osamu suspected foul play, but beyond that he didn't say much.

    The only other odd tidbit was a warning: "Stray away from the first floor, for your own sakes."

    As neither me nor Rose wanted to torture them, we wrapped things up when Osamu stopped answering questions. He was humoring us, knowing that he'd be broken out by the end of the week, but I didn't care as much as my partner did — Rose certainly wilted a bit when he'd said that.

    Ren, meanwhile, was long since muted with a knife prick next to the vocal cords, only releasing benign — yet annoying — wheezes. Better than listening to his insults, really.

    And Jake… Well.

    "Ugh."

    "Do you think he's faking it?" Rose asked with caution.

    Looking at the first of three captives, I shook my head. "No, he's asleep." And has been for most of his time here. A bit of drool could be seen near his mouth.

    Apparently, my earlier assessment regarding his intoxication was partially wrong — he was under the effects of cannabis, but there was some other drug in his system. Without Nymph to tell us the answer straight up, all I could note were the unique 'symptoms' from when we tried to jostle him to a coherent state: Jake's focus increased when he looked at me, but anything else — including Rose — and his eyes glazed over. Thus, he was left alone, albeit zip tied — just in case.

    "Feel free to call the PRT, then; we could both use some sleep, I'd bet," my teammate stated as she fought back a yawn. Her posture showed signs of fatigue, which made sense. Much like her, I was also feeling that ache in my muscles, which made me stretch.

    "Same, though-" Yawn. "-this isn't PRT's thing."

    "No?" Her head tilted.

    "Nope, police. None of these guys are capes, nor are they affected by one."

    "Huh."

    "One sec," I said, getting my phone out. "Just keep an eye on them, I guess."

    After double-checking things and calling 911, I described the situation to the man on the line, which included mentioning that all of the gangers' weapons were on the floor in the middle of the room. He was mildly surprised by the Venus handcuffs, but only asked how to take them off — just like most cops here, he was jaded.

    I hung up and walked back to Rose.

    As she looked at me silently, tired, I offered a trademark grin. An eyebrow quirked upwards, then. "What?" She asked, slightly bemused.

    "We're all done here." I shrugged. "Unless you have more things on your mind." The one I had was the first floor of this building — Osamu's warning was eerily genuine.

    Rose first blinked, then turned her head, then spent several seconds glaring at our captives. "Will they try to escape?"

    I hummed. "Doubt it." My gaze was set upon them as well.

    Jake is projected to sleep for at least 6 consecutive hours without external interference. Unknown drug within Jake's system is likely to have a hangover element. Unlikely to attempt to escape while under the influence.​

    Okay; Ren?

    Most likely to attempt to escape. Is projected to remain paralyzed for another 26 minutes without external interference. Current strength of paralysis guaranteed to thwart any plausible escape attempts. Will regain movement capabilities after around 5 minutes in the event that the Venus handcuffs were to be removed.​

    I suppressed a slight wince of pain, ignoring the rage-filled look Ren was giving me, and let my eyes meet Osamu's. He held them patiently. "So?"

    I shifted on my feet and smirked. "Your ride will be here soon, Han, don't you worry. Or did you have more things to tell us before we part?"

    "No, I'm afraid not."

    "And the first floor?" I needled.

    "As I said, you should not step foot there." The way he spoke of it was concerning.

    "We'd have checked it regardless," my partner said. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder right next to me.

    Osamu strained, very faintly shoking his head; as much as the paralysis let him, at least. "Fools. Both of you."

    "Says the one who was caught," I deadpanned.

    Is content in the perceived certainty of a breakout. Will not attempt to escape. Is disappointed in both of you.​

    I placed Ren's phone near the pile of weapons and angled it in such a way that the light shone right at Osamu's face. "And this is for blinding me earlier," I clarified for the man. Watching him close his eyes in restrained anger, seeing him slowly set his jaw and scowl, my schadenfreude flared as I grinned and turned my back on him.

    Was it petty? Yes, but I didn't care.

    I walked past Rose and took her hand without slowing down, leading her out of the room and into the hall. Pausing, I exhaled, letting out just a bit of tension. "That was… kind of a shitshow."

    I saw Rose look back before tilting her head. "Was it really that bad? We got more clues."

    "Beyond the earlier eavesdropping, we got jack shit on the Dealers," I muttered. "And I'm still not sure what to think about there being another cape-supported gang in the city. Oh, and Nymph would've just flushed Jake's system and woken him up in like ten seconds, tops. We-"

    "Would she have even been okay with us questioning them, though?"

    "Well it's not like we hurt them," I pointed out. "Also, I'm pretty sure Vic sometimes does this too." She could speed things up with her aura as well.

    And no, I wasn't jealous.

    Rose just shrugged. "For a spur-of-the-moment thing, this was more information than I'd expected to get."

    Sighing, I walked to the nearest stairwell. "Point."

    …This place smelled like a dump.

    "Your eyes are fine, though, right?"

    "Nothing permanent," I waved her off. "What about you? And what happened with Ren?"

    "Might have a light bruise or two on my front. 'Nothing permanent'," she echoed. "With Ren, though, I… miscalculated. I thought the paralysis would be enough to silence him." Then, she tugged on my arm. "Wait, let's switch. Me in front."

    We swapped places, then resumed our trek downwards. The smell lingered and grew, though. "Eugh."

    Rose was grimacing too. "Yeah. Uh, Neb… Did you figure out what we're about to deal with?"

    I shook my head, watching the way the soft yellow light coming from my hair danced on the walls. "Just that he was serious, and that it made him feel repulsed." I took another step. "Whatever 'it' is. A lost limb, maybe?"

    "I hope not."

    I hummed. "Well, let's see here…"

    I looked into the closest room, and then froze.

    The stench was several magnitudes stronger here, as if I'd passed some invisible threshold, making me gag and backpedal, shocked. The sight inside was even more disturbing: in the corner to my right near the door was a bunch of bodies, piled up haphazardly; one lone corpse even closer than the rest. Dead flesh glistened from the glow that I offered, just like the puddle of mostly-clear liquid under them.

    …And every single victim's head was deformed.

    Liquid mostly consists of dirty water. Bodies near the top much less bloated than those below them. Irregular usage of stretch film points to it being included as an afterthought. Faint stains on the floor suggest recent struggle.​

    Oh.

    My head spun as I staggered into Rose.

    Both of us crashed back into the hall, with my teammate holding my middle from behind. "N-Neb?" She asked in a tone that made her sound sick. "What the actual fuck? Were those..?"

    "Yeah," I managed to croak, trying not to throw up. Rubbing at my temple, I cradled my head as I helped Rose get up, still digesting — don't think about it, idiot! — all the info my power had gleaned. The rancid humidity didn't help at all with the Thinker migraine assaulting my senses, so I leaned onto Rose a bit more. "There's a dozen in total, I think."

    I didn't need to see her face to know that she probably looked like a ghost right now. "...Was it them?" She whispered. "Did they do this?"

    My mind began racing… Wait.

    "'This place is not a cemetery'," I repeated Osamu's words. "This is the transgression he was talking about!" I looked at the door frame. "Jake dumped them here." I peeked back in, breathing through my mouth, and focused on the body that was not in the pile.

    Fuck, the head wasn't deformed — instead, it was as if a third of it was scooped out with a giant ice cream scooper. The face and jaw were still there, if barely recognizable, but the brain… The brain was completely missing. Why the hell would anyone harvest them? Who?

    A quick glance showed that the other unobscured bodies were missing their brains as well, which made me shudder. I backed out, letting Rose support me, and had us retreat to the stairwell. "Christ."

    "You have a migraine," she stated quietly.

    "No shit. I can feel it."

    She winced. "What now?"

    "No idea. I'm not going back there." I had a feeling that I would collapse otherwise — I could barely breathe when inside the place. "Someone took their brains for some fucking reason. And they were bloated from water."

    She went rigid. "This sounds like Acrid."

    Internally, I screamed.

    "Right…" I took a deep breath with my mouth. "Let's- let's get the fuck out before anyone sees us." My head swiveled frantically in anticipation of a threat — there was no guarantee that the fucker wasn't also here. Acrid was just a theory, and no footage yet confirmed his existence, but begrudgingly I had to admit that Rose's comparison was scarily accurate: corpses drenched in water? Check. Just like goddamn Skidmark. Body parts missing? Also check.

    We needed to leave ASAP.

    I watched thorns fly all around us, glinting, while Rose fell into a half-crouch with her knife on the ready. Similarly, I had my gun out, walking behind my partner slowly. "Break the lock," I said, clipped. "No one will mind — place is abandoned."

    "Left alley after that, then."

    "'Kay. Do it." I really hoped Acrid wasn't here.

    One thorn sped past us and right into the front door, getting embedded halfway within the mechanism. I saw another repeat the same exact thing once the first one dissipated fully, but this time it pierced through completely. "Done," Rose announced.

    The door opened, and I exhaled.

    There was nobody outside, so we turned to the left and ran, doing just as Rose suggested. We went further, and then turned again. Up on a rooftop, we finally stopped, with me shakily settling down. "Let's just hope we weren't seen and pray for the best," I spoke, more for myself. "Or that he wasn't there at all." My fingers were crossed. "Phew."

    Rose, sitting next to me, took a shuddering breath. "Definitely didn't expect tonight to go like it did."

    "No kidding. …Huh, deja vu."

    She hummed. "Did we miss anything? Was there more stuff in there?"

    "If there was, I didn't see it," I replied. "There might be a van or something nearby, though, because I doubt Jake hauled the bodies one at a time." The sounds of BBPD vehicles grew louder, however. "Not that we could check that now." And I wanted to go get some sleep — my head was bursting at the seams.

    "So, um." My partner fidgeted. "Correct me if I'm wrong: Jake killed- No, Acrid killed those people, and then Jake dragged them here to dispose of them? And got caught?"

    "Sounds about right, yeah."

    "What if Jake is Acrid?" …Hm.

    I thought about it for a moment, but decided not to use my power for this one. "Don't think so — he was awake. He would've used his power to get away." Unless he was caught in civvies, but… no. Probably not. 'Bossman' or 'Bosswench' might be Acrid, then, with Jake being a non-cape like Osamu.

    "I guess that would make sense," my partner said with a tired shrug. "...Annoying that they'll all get broken out, though."

    "Yeah." I agreed, just as miffed. Still, I smirked, and then met her eyes without turning my head too much. "But we did get some secrets out of 'em."

    Rose exhaled through her nose in amusement, and we both looked at the city before us. A mildly comfortable silence settled while we just sat there, exhausted and in thought. Honestly, I wasn't certain about what we would be facing next, but with tonight's revelations, I knew: it was time to change our priorities.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Carol: "No, you're not allowed to communicate with anyone in the middle of a gang war where people are dying and your friends are actively going out to save people."

    For fucks sake, the sheer... stupidity of that is utterly astounding. I didn't expect anything of Carol, and I'm still disappointed.
     
    Argh, I have so many questions! For why is Acrid stealing brains? Also, who is Acrid? Was Osamu warning them off as some form of not wanting to traumatize them or did they miss a clue? And of course, does Carol actively strategize the stupidest reaction to a crisis or is she just naturally talented at it?
     
    Wow. A room full of corpses missing their brains? Is someone trying to get a kill order slapped on their asses?

    Because mass murder and something that sounds disturbingly like it might be biotinker fuckery? In Emily Piggot's town? I wouldn't be surprised if she quietly gives her troopers the authorization to shoot to kill on sight when they find out who did this.
     
    Heart of Midlothian (Part 1) - Non-canon Omake by Lucifra
  • Index
    • Content Warning: Suicide Baiting. Emma is,,, not in a great headspace here, and she's also not a great person, post-Sophia.

    I wish I had enough willpower to stand up to my muse when she decides that it's time to start a new project.
    -----
    Heart of Midlothian
    -----​
    Emma Barnes was.. concerned about Sophia. After… Hebert… had pulled that underhanded trick with her locker and ignoring that they'd shown lockers were fair game very early on, she hadn't really heard from Sophia, even though she'd promised-

    Breathe.

    Anyways, the only news she had of Shadow Stalker was when she'd seen on the news that she'd broken the Undersiders out of Protectorate custody, which… what the hell? She'd been so adamantly opposed to Grue in the past that it seemed counterintuitive for her to want to go anywhere near him, especially given how she'd been injured by her… other nemesis.

    That being Taylor.

    Emma knew, intellectually, that Taylor wasn't someone she should be lashing out at. But at the same time… well, Sophia had taught her that there was only strength and weakness, and Taylor hadn't shown any of the former except in resilience, some quiet part of her brain said, so she obviously couldn't be allowed to remain in her life. Admittedly, the method she'd chosen to get Taylor out of her life was… extreme… but to be honest she liked it more as a method to show off her strength than anything else.

    And then she had cost Sophia her hand.

    That had really not worked out how Emma thought it would. Ideally, Taylor would have been shipped off to juvie for setting a booby trap like that. More realistically, she was probably going to get suspended for a couple of weeks, because despite all the pressure that her dad and Sophia's handler could bring to bear, uncle Danny could bring the full weight of the union community of Brockton Bay down on the school like the wrath of Legend and Blackwell was always careful to keep his ire pointed mostly away from her.

    That said, Emma wasn't expecting Taylor to just up and vanish, nor was she expecting almost all her social support to dry up practically overnight.

    Pragmatically speaking, she knew that a significant amount of her social standing came from Sophia, one way or the other. Her status as a Ward bringing in money to the school above and beyond what her own father was willing and able to contribute kept staff off their backs in all but the most extreme of situations and minimized their response even in those situations, and her willingness to threaten, intimidate, or bruise any potential social challengers handled what portions of the student body her own charisma and Madison's… strategy didn't.

    Even so, she didn't realize quite how much of her social prowess was enabled by Sophia until after the Ward was gone.

    The revelation of Sophia Hess, arm-deep in Taylor's locker, had caused the student body to reconsider their relationship with Sophia Hess, who they now saw as a violent thug, as well as herself and Madison, who were now seen as social camouflage and a brainless hanger-on, respectively.

    The fact that the involvement of Shadow Stalker in the escapes of the surviving Undersiders, as well as the dumbass bitch who thought it was a good idea to hit Panacea in the chest with a hammer (to the point where Black Rose had been forced to intervene and heal the healer before her official debut, no less), was public knowledge did not help their case by any stretch of the imagination.

    Madison had read the changing of the tides and abandoned Emma before most of the school had, joining up with Greg, of all people.

    Emma shook herself out of her introspective spiral, refocusing herself on the mall around her, where she always came when she was feeling down or unsteady. As they said, a little retail therapy never hurt anybody.

    As Emma turned towards Abercrombie and Fitch, she felt the basso "thump thump thump" that spoke of several of Bakuda's bombs going off, and her eyes widened. Despite the fact that the ABB was more reviled than ever, the mad bomber's power had kept them "in the game", as it were, with the specter of terror she held over the city being far more than any other cape this side of the Fallen.

    Emma looked up, but before she could cast about for the source of the sounds, she heard as much as felt two different changes. On her left, she felt the air pressure increase with the sound of flesh thwap-ing to the floor, and on the right everything stilled and went silent, not even the air daring to move.

    When the two effects met, with her in the middle, things got… complicated.
    -----​
    Taylor was glad she had managed to grab a thorn based on Armsmaster's power already, so she could use it (in conjunction with a thorn from Lisa's power) to retrieve and disarm the detonator on one of Bakuda's bombs.

    The newly retrieved piece of Tinkertech looked relatively inconspicuous, a dull grey sphere approximately the size of a baseball, but based on what Lisa suggested it might be the key to cleaning up the more persistent effects of Bakuda's bombs.

    According to what Lisa's power could feed them, combining thorns of her power and a Tinker power let her sidestep tinkering to produce some of the effects that the original Tinker's power could produce in a semi-random manner.

    So, as Nebula and Black Rose, the pair of capes went to the Brockton Mall, where they could test it on a relatively stable anomaly- that being the replica of a Gray Boy bubble that Assault had mentioned.

    The plan was to arrive at the mall, combine Lisa's power with Bakuda's, and then see if she could pull off some sort of power reset effect, or maybe teleport any of the victims out of the bubble, or some other bullshit effect that Bakuda had pulled out of her figurative hat that could undo at least some of the destruction the bomber had wreaked across the city.

    Of course, Taylor couldn't have nice things, so the first thing she heard was Emma's voice shrieking something about a Stranger.

    She was not expecting to hear a younger version of Emma's voice retort with "Well, if you don't recognize a version of yourself who didn't stab our sister in the back as anything more than a Stranger, then there's something seriously wrong with you!"

    Taylor very carefully did not rush into the pseudo-courtyard of the mall, but when she arrived she saw two Emma's, one as she had seen her the last time she was at Winslow, but the other shorter, younger, and far angrier.

    "Excuse me," said Taylor, trying her best to disguise her voice. "What's going on here?"

    "Not now, Tails," said the younger Emma, "I'm dealing with this… disappointment."

    The older Emma just gaped at Taylor like a fish. "W-what?"

    Taylor's eyes narrowed behind her mask as she produced an extra thorn and touched it to Lisa's exposed fingertip. "Well then," said Lisa, no small amount of forced calm in her voice, "this is going to be a mess."

    "That's right," said the younger version of Emma, "you tortured Tails so much that she got superpowers! Didn't you know how bad that has to be from talking with Sophia?"

    "Her power is… well, she got the perfect one to slit her wrists with!"

    Reality stuttered for a moment, with people shifting positions in between one heartbeat and the next, and then Taylor's mouth dropped open as she watched the younger version of Emma crack her older version across the face.

    Then, a tattered, golden cape appeared, hanging from the younger Emma's shoulders, with a blue-white image of a bear's head appearing on it over and over again, and moments later she was abruptly flanked by two bears in Ursa Aurora's ghostly style, which immediately moved to hold Emma down.

    "You're a disappointment to everything Mom and Auntie Anne ever stood for," said the younger Emma, glaring at her older counterpart with pity in her eyes. "On one hand, I want to hate you for what you did, but knowing what made you this way… I'm not sure I can really blame you."

    She turned to Taylor. "Tails, I'm sorry for everything we've done to you. I'll make it better, I promise. Just… Take Ems home, please, and make sure Mom reads my note."

    Her cape shifted, the bear heads shimmering and changing to a porter's cap even as the projected bears faded to nothing and Emma collapsed to her knees, one hand brushing against her cheek. Then, the younger Emma vanished with a sound not entirely unlike a gunshot and a brief sound of an intense wind.

    No one talked, not when Taylor undid the Gray Boy bomb's effect or after, until they arrived at Emma's house, practically having to drag the unresponsive redhead to her home.

    Before they could enter, the door swung open, revealing a distinctly unimpressed Zoe Barnes. "Taylor, come in. It's been too long. We need to have a… family discussion."
    -----​
    Emmie (not Emma, not after what the other-her had done to that name) was, to put it bluntly, panicking.

    Ideally, she'd be able to handle the situation with Mom before anyone noticed. On a more practical level, she was still undergoing the mother of all existential crises after being created, whole cloth, from her older self not ten minutes ago, sorting through the jumble that was her memories of the last five years of Emma's life, and dealing with the issue of how the fuck to handle her brand new superpower.

    One of those problems, at least, was relatively easy to handle. She shifted her mental focus away from Strider and towards Accord, the villain known for his ability to think his way to a solution for any and every problem he encountered.

    Immediately, she felt the cape on her back shift, the design related to Strider vanishing in favor of Accord's mask. At the same time, Emmie felt her mind… not expand, per se, but it did definitely change in a way she couldn't quite quantify.

    This time, when she refocused herself on her issues, they seemed… not less daunting, per se, but she felt better equipped to handle them.

    The immediate issue was the note she promised Tails she'd write, which was something she could handle immediately.

    Dear Mom, she wrote.

    There's a lot of stuff you're not going to have context for in this note, and that's okay. Ask Tails and you should be able to get a mostly complete picture, or if she brings her blonde friend, you should be able to ask her.

    Long story short, Emma was caught up in the wrong place (or the right place, depending on your interpretation), and she was in the exact intersection of the detonation of two of Bakuda's bombs. Don't worry, she's fine. Some weird interaction between the two bombs made me, which… well, I'm kinda-sorta a ten-year-old version of Emma with all the memories of what Emma is supposed to have. Call me Emmie, for now.

    Then, it turns out that… well, there's no easy way to break this to you, but Emma has been bullying Taylor ever since she met Sophia. See, Dad and Emma got attacked by the ABB but saved by Shadow Stalker, AKA Sophia Hess, and Emma sort of latched onto Sophia, to the point where when Sophia said that she had to prove her strength by getting rid of Tails, she did. That bullying… well, I won't tell you all the details, but it's bad enough that it caused a Trigger Event (which is basically when someone… loses hope, I guess, but even that isn't a complete explanation, and then they get superpowers), and Emma didn't stop there.

    Sophia is… removed as an influence in Emma's life, but that's not going to fix what she broke. You need to make sure she gets therapy, and you can't let Dad keep enabling her. Emma thinks she can do whatever she wants, you cannot allow that to continue.

    As for me… don't worry about me, I can handle myself. I have powers now, but I can't come home yet. I need to make up for all the bad things that we did to Tails before I can face her again.

    Love you, mom,

    Emmie.

    Emmie absently noted that for some reason Accord's power was making her pool of power options shrink much more slowly than either Ursa Aurora's or Strider's, but set that aside for later interrogation as she set the letter down on her mom's place at the table, then-

    "Emma? What's going on?" Emmie's eyes snapped up to meet her mom's, and she internally winced at the necessity of what she was about to do.

    "Sorry, mom, I can't stay. Tails is coming over, make sure you read the note before she gets here."

    Losing Accord's power was more jarring than gaining it, because her brain abruptly snapped back to what it was before in a not-quite-painful manner, but it was what had to be done.

    "Young lady, you will-"

    "Don't let Emma drive Taylor away again," Emmie said, power already shifted for Strider's, destination firmly fixed in her mind. "I love you, mom."

    Emmie was abruptly in the old warehouse she and Tails had loved running around in whenever they were waiting for Uncle Danny once they had gotten tired of sitting around the DWA office.

    She borrowed Labyrinth's power long enough to reach into another dimension and pull a notebook and pen into the warehouse, then released it (and shuddered as the eerie feeling of having so many dimensions overlaying her vanished) in favor of Accord's once again.
    ​
    She had plans to make in order to atone for what she'd done to Tails, after all, and she'd need to write them down.
    -----
    Semi-canon addition:​

    Jack Slash frowned. "Why do I hear boss music?"

    Mannequin shrugged.
    -----​
    And that's that!

    This will be continued, eventually (probably).

    Read, review, enjoy, and…

    WORDS FOR THE WORD COUNT! OMAKES FOR THE OMAKE THRONE! ALL HAIL THE DREAD LORD SHADELIGHT!
     
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  • Index
    • Lucifra said:
    Heart of Midlothian
    ​
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    ​
    Your omake is lovely. Thank you!​

    Oddboy said:
    Because mass murder and something that sounds disturbingly like it might be biotinker fuckery? In Emily Piggot's town? I wouldn't be surprised if she quietly gives her troopers the authorization to shoot to kill on sight when they find out who did this.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I suppose that would've been the case were she not retired already. :V
     
    Reaction 3.7
  • Threadmarks
    • Reaction 3.7
    ▲
    Taylor​

    "...Earth to Taylor."

    "Is she alright?"

    "Taylor? Ames, what's up with her?"

    As I dwelled on what Lisa and I learned last night, a poke at my upper arm almost made me flinch — my mind was still roiling with negative thoughts, half-baked theories and imagined atrocities. While I knew that I was sitting in the Arcadia cafeteria, it wasn't where my attention laid. I averted my eyes from the tuna sandwich that dad had packed, and looked around.

    Everyone at the table was staring at me.

    I winced and decided to roll with it. "So, um. Insurance..?" Amy had gone on a small rant about American healthcare when we sat down at the start of lunch; that I did remember… but judging from the others' reactions, it was over. "What?" I asked then, deflating.

    "That ended like ten minutes ago," Dennis dutifully informed me with amusement. It seemed like I spent too much time inside my head, then. "Amy was just telling us about some guy in a hospital-"

    "-Which I'm not gonna repeat, don't even bother," the healer in question groaned out.

    "It's fine," I said. "You can continue." I already felt bad enough for interrupting things. I took another bite of my sandwich, relinquishing the metaphorical talking stick.

    She shrugged. "...Anyway, the guy apparently disconnected the IV drip to go get a snack of all fucking things. One of the vending machine ones."

    "O-oh no," Chris said, struggling to keep down a smile. "Did he do it?"

    "I assume he was leaning against the door when opening it because he fell out of the room onto a nurse in the hallway like a goddamn horror jumpscare."

    "Did the nurse scream too?" Dennis asked, snickering, while the others just full-on laughed.

    "Yup," Amy drawled. "The one who told me about all this compared it to the scream from, well, Scream. Like, from when Ghostface breaks the window somewhere near the start." She huffed as I dealt with my sandwich. "Wish I was there in person, honestly… But really, how stupid was he? He'd just come out of surgery, and that's not to mention the blood loss from before."

    Victoria snorted. "Maybe he thought some Twizzlers would replenish it?"

    "I'd not be surprised," Amy deadpanned in return. "But anyone with half a brain should put together that taking the drip out in such a state is a bad idea. I'm half-convinced the guy didn't have one at all."

    I shuddered. Fuck. The recent horrors were still fresh on my mind. Nobody saw it, I didn't think, but I still suppressed my tremors while reaching for my juice box. What if they did notice? I decided to hold my breath in, and then drained all of the beverage in one long sip.

    Dennis and Victoria were currently discussing more horror movies, while Chris' eyes were locked onto me.

    He furrowed his eyebrows. "Taylor, you… are okay, though, right?"

    I looked at the brown-haired boy, evidently failing at suppressing my lethargy. "Yes, Chris. Just… tired."

    Amy poked my side again.

    I turned my head to meet her eyes, in response to which she raised one eyebrow. I shrugged, as I really didn't want her to worry, but she offered a hand, palm-up.

    "Welp," the healer muttered after I laid my own hand over hers. "No Invasion of the Body Snatchers bullshit, at least." Dennis and Carlos chuckled. "You're good… Though you did sleep last night, right?"

    "Y-Yeah…" I managed. Barely. "Not well, though. Y'know… nightmares." It pained me that Lisa wasn't spared from one either, and it was likely that hers was even worse than what I'd had. Unlike her, I barely remembered mine, only that I woke up panicking in cold sweat. Neither of us managed to fall back asleep after that, so we opted for just lying in bed, holding each other until daybreak.

    A dark look passed across Amy's face, and she hummed in acknowledgement, withdrawing her hand. I couldn't tell her about the source of said nightmares due to, well, everyone else being present at the moment, but it seemed like she understood the gist regardless.

    …Which was worrying. Did she have them too?

    "Was it 'cause of the bombing?" Carlos guessed, making most of the table cringe, and after a moment's hesitation I nodded — it was a minor lie, but I couldn't just tell them the truth. Taking the opening he just gave me was simply the second-best option for me. "...Yeah," the boy replied. "Same here." Huh.

    Melissa, a short outgoing blonde who was part of Victoria's 'inner circle' at school, raised a finger in the meantime. She said something unintelligible while cramming the remains of a cupcake in her mouth, then spoke up properly: "That thing freaked me the fuck out. I live at the upper end of the Boardwalk, so the boom was loud. Woke my whole family up."

    Chris scratched behind his ear, not making eye contact with anyone. "Mine too."

    Amy and I glanced at each other.

    "Hope the bitch gets caught soon," Dennis said, and a few of us nodded. "She's a goddamn terrorist."

    "'She'? Where'd you get that from?" Melissa asked, echoing my own thoughts.

    "...Call it a hunch?"

    Amy snorted from her new position where her head laid on the table, cushioned by one arm. "More like a PHO hoax."

    I frowned, but stayed silent. I'd tell her about Bakuda later, when we were alone.

    "Hey, what's wrong with PHO?" Dennis complained as Melissa grinned.

    "Void Cowboy, for one," she noted.

    "True, but he's not the only one there."

    "I'm pretty sure that one theory about it being the Empire who bombed the Docks wasn't written by him," Chris said, knitting his eyebrows. Then, he took out his phone. "Let me check."

    "It does sound plausible," Victoria admitted. "At least on paper. In reality, though…" She looked disturbed. "...Too complicated. Waaay too complicated. Or uh-"

    "Time-consuming?" I supplied.

    "Yes!" She pointed at me. "That. Like, it didn't look like something they'd be able to do on a whim, let alone without anyone noticing. Maybe the Crater, but not all the other separate explosions beyond that — too much work to get all the bombs everywhere."

    Dennis hummed, agreeing with her. "And some of their placements were weird, too. Did you see the pics of the, uh… Fuck, I forgot the word." He snapped his fingers twice, but that didn't seem to help much. "Basically, there was a piece of a road and the sidewalk that looked all cut up into tiny cubes 'n' stuff. Some were floating, too."

    "Yeah, I've seen it," Amy piped up. "Looked like 3D pixel art to me."

    "That's called 'voxel art'," Chris pointed out without even looking up from his phone.

    Amy rolled her eyes at that. "Right. Whatever." She paused. "...Am I the only one who thinks that it's kinda pretty?"

    "It was pretty cool, yeah." Dennis shrugged. "Though it's a good thing that no one got caught in it."

    Most of us shuddered.

    "Yeah..." Amy looked away.

    A clatter of silverware falling onto the floor and annoyed exclamations from a couple of tables away from us caught my attention. I turned to look, expecting a scuffle, but the two boys that were likely the culprits just stood there, arguing in hushed tones. Were this Winslow, they would've already been fighting, probably due to being part of different gangs, but that thankfully wasn't the case here.

    One boy nodded and the other left.

    "I don't get why y'all think those were bombs," Melissa said, taking a sip of some energy drink. "Okay, I kinda get it, but still. My personal bet's on 'Striker'."

    I blinked, then faced her. "Why?" I remembered something like that being mentioned by Lisa during the first night, after the vine bomb had been dealt with… but it was discarded by her, not supported. And now we knew that it was outright false.

    "You know how Tori said that it was too time-consuming to get all the bombs to all the places? What if, instead, the dude — or chick, whatever works — just had to touch people to turn them into bombs? Without them noticing, obviously."

    None of us were still eating at that point, and Amy in particular looked shaken by the proposed idea. I knew the reason why, of course — there were many ways someone with biokinesis could turn a person into a living bomb. Or a dead one. While I planned to never do anything like that, disgusted even by the vague idea of it, the thought still crossed my mind as I daydreamed about her power. We were capable of such horrible things… and, unlike me, Amy's power was always active.

    Under the table, I took her free hand in mine. Discreetly. The way she met my eyes spoke of gratitude, but there were no other movements beyond that.

    Victoria, for better or for worse, didn't notice anything; neither did anyone else. "How would he… set them off, then?" She said, visibly uncomfortable. "With a timer?"

    "I didn't really think that far, but I... suppose that would work?" Melissa thought silently for a moment. "Would need to target a specific time, though. Triggering them remotely sounds easier, and more plausible if the main 'splosion was, like, an ABB gathering or something."

    "If we're going with that idea, then why would she even need to be a Striker in the first place?" Dennis asked. It was odd — he was entertaining Melissa's theory, but that was it. He didn't seem to believe it. Did he find out about Bakuda too? Just like us? Or was I just grasping at straws here?

    …Probably just the latter. My head was still a bit dizzy, and it annoyed me.

    Melissa raised a single eyebrow. "What, you're saying it can be done with just eyesight? Or sound?"

    "Well, why not?" The redhead looked around for support. "Am I wrong here?"

    "Are- I mean, maybe? I dunno, I just think 'Striker' makes the most sense in this case. Sue me." Melissa pouted.

    "Ahhh, I see what you're doing," Dennis said, nodding sagely. "It's a PHO theory, isn't it?"

    "No it isn't!"

    "It totally is."

    "Oh, shut up."

    Both of them were visibly fighting new smiles at that point.

    "Right, uh, speaking of… I got sidetracked again." Chris said, scratching the back of his head. "It wasn't Void."

    "The Empire theory?" Carlos asked.

    "Yeah."

    "I guess it's not as crazy as the usual stuff he posts."

    Dennis leaned over to glance at Chris' screen. "Whatcha get sidetracked by?" Chris adjusted the angle of his phone to let his friend see better. "Huh."

    As I used this lull in the conversation to finish my food, Victoria lightly kicked the redhead's leg with hers. "What is it?"

    "The Rose and Nebula thread. Sort of."

    I nearly choked. The fucking what?!

    "Did you bump into 'em yet?" Dennis asked Victoria.

    We had a thread? Like, a proper one?

    I supposed that it kind of made sense, as we didn't hide when we helped with the bomb victims, but I still felt… mostly surprised at this revelation. I just didn't expect this, even though I should have. The only PHO thread concerning us that I knew of beforehand was about the Circus encounter at Lord's Market two weeks ago, but even there neither Lisa nor I were talked about specifically — only my thorns. We didn't have costumes at the time, and were yet to create the 'official' accounts for our cape personas. We were simply a rumor back then. Nowadays… I wasn't sure.

    What were the people saying about us? Now that I knew of the thread's existence, I was rather curious. And a bit nervous.

    "...And it was sooo pretty!" Victoria was saying as she elbowed her sister. "Right, Ames?" The healer nodded. "Mine had a golden ribbon inside, and Rose said that the forcefield was golden too, while Amy's was water and sunlight. I wish I had taken a picture."

    "I'm sure you'll get another opportunity eventually." Melissa patted the older Dallon on the back.

    Carlos looked intrigued. "Do you think it means anything? The thorn visuals?" That was actually a good question. Lisa'd asked it once or twice, of course, but we never got any conclusive answers.

    The blonde Dallon shrugged. "I'm kinda torn on what mine meant, but Amy's definitely symbolizes life. Like, how more obvious could you get?"

    I had an idea or two myself in regards to that. So, I spoke up: "It being filled with plant life would've been more to the point, I think. Or, if keeping the water part, there could've been, um. Algae? Seaweed?"

    "I'm flattered by how you think of me, Taylor," Amy deadpanned, making the rest of the table laugh. Embarrassed, I didn't reply to that, letting an increasingly-fidgeting Chris talk instead.

    "Um." He started, as eloquently as I. "Maybe she's a Tinker?" What an interesting theory.

    "Why?" I asked the question that we were all thinking about in our heads.

    "Well, maybe the thorns aren't Master constructs and instead… drones? Or something? Maybe the thing on her chest lets her control them?"

    Dennis wrapped an arm around Chris' shoulders. "Looking at chests again, o dear friend of mine?" The latter sputtered while blushing, and I did too, if a bit less. It was, after all, me who they were talking about.

    The others chuckled.

    "Sorry to bust your bubble, Chris, but they were projections. I saw her summon and desummon them," Victoria shot his hypothesis down, making the boy hunch in on himself. I kind of felt bad for him. Why did he care that much?

    "B-but what if that chest stored inactive ones? It could have a pocket dimension inside..? Why not?"

    The Alexandria package was shaking her head. "Nope, they were formed from black stuff-"

    "-Sand-" Amy corrected.

    "-That she kept around her. Mostly in her hair. And she said they were projections herself." I did?

    "She did?" Amy asked the same question.

    Victoria nodded.

    "Eugh," Melissa let her distaste be known with a half-disgusted, half-bewildered expression. "I hate, hate, hate sand in my hair. What the hell's wrong with her? It feels like your whole scalp is being crawled over by tiny spiders." She and Dennis shuddered in unison. "Girl's messed up."

    I had to agree with her outburst, as that sensation sounded horrifying. Thankfully, the VFX that I used were just that — hardlight holograms. The only thing from touching them that I felt was a bit of warmth.

    "What I want to know is why she chose to look so edgy," Victoria stated. "Especially with the domino being black. It sorta made her seem villainous."

    "You can't have a color in your cape name and not use it in your costume," Amy pointed out. Exactly!

    "Sure, but why not just go 'White Rose' instead, or something similar?"

    Amy stared at her sister like if she'd said something very stupid. "Maybe because her thorns aren't white?"

    In my mind, I was glad that at least someone got it. Thanks, Amy.

    "Okay, okay, I guess that does make a bit of sense…" Victoria surrendered, raised hands and all, to the done-with-everything healer.

    There was a bout of calm silence before I broke it.

    "...What's PHO saying about them?" I finally asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at Chris. There was no need to fake my interest — it was genuine for obvious reasons.

    "Some people are being asshats," Chris replied, swiping at the screen upwards a few times. "But most comments are pretty positive. Huh, Nebula replied too." He looked at Amy. Instead of saying anything to her, his gaze shifted towards me, then to his phone again… Then, back to me. "Um. Want to see for yourself?"

    I nodded. Might as well.

    Chris' phone was similar to mine but a shiny red instead of my black, and there was a sticker — Hero's logo — on the back of it, slightly worn. As the boy handed it to me across the table, though, my anxiety grew, and I did my best to attempt to ignore it. I was suddenly apprehensive of what I might see; of what we were seen as. I didn't show it, of course, but Amy's hand squeezed mine anyway. I squeezed back, then took a breath.

    While Melissa resumed the chatter, Amy leaned over and we began reading.


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    ♦ Topic: 2 New Capes @ The Docks
    In: Boards ► Parahumans ► America ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Sightings
    Quicksilver Tongues     (Original Poster)
    Posted On Apr 27th 2011:
    Saw two girl capes I couldn't identify at the Docks a few hours ago, they were carrying some guy without a foot. Anyone knows who they are?

    I'll describe them:
    > The first one was in dark purple clothes and had a cloth thing over her shoulders. There's also a tiny black hole above her chest somehow? No larger than my fist, I think. Near-white yellow domino mask. Skirt is longer than other's and splits into several pointed ends. Her hands were as glowy as the mask; hair too, but with stars in it.
    > The second one was in all black and had a skirt-like thing coming from her belt. Black domino mask. Also her hair was like... wispy? Shadowy? Dunno, it moved weird. Couldn't see much beyond that, sorry.

    EDIT: We've got pics thanks to 0x10cSheep! Links: [1] [2]

    EDIT EDIT: The capes are Black Rose and Nebula! As usual, All_Seeing_Eye comes in clutch.
    PRT statement regarding Cricket and Stormtiger being captured by them: [link]

    EDIT EDIT EDIT: Black Rose might've been the one to heal Panacea ~2 weeks ago! Awaiting concrete proof on that one still, but definitely worth noting.
    Last edited April 27th, 2011

    (Showing page 1 of 4)
    ►Lolitup
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    new blood? sure why not
    more people's alaaays nice
    are they breakers? the hair and black hole makes it sound like itt

    ►0x10cSheep
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Fellow brocktonite here. I was in the area and managed to snap a couple pics on my way home, so enjoy. No idea about names tho.
    Them + Assault & Battery: link
    Just the two, but zoomed in and a bit blurry: link

    ►Quicksilver Tongues (Original Poster)
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Ah, perfect! Thanks, yeah, it's them.
    Linked the pics in the main post too.

    ►All_Seeing_Eye (Unverified Cape) (The Gal in the Know)
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    They've identified themselves as Nebula and Black Rose when they came to a med tent I was in. I hope it's obvious who's who.

    For those who don't know: they're the ones who got credited for the recent Stormtiger & Cricket takedown.

    ►TheOneAndOnlyCarl
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Do we even know what they can do> The wiki has jack shit on em

    ►ExcitedRed
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Ooh, what's the thing in the second pic? Look in the top right next to Rose's right elbow. A floating piece of glass?

    ►XxVoid_CowboyxX
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Shit, Shatterbird 2.0? (sure hope not)

    ►dadjokedadtime
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    didn't rose also save panacea after circus swung the Wrong Way

    ►Pathfinder
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    As much as I love memery, this isn't the time.

    ►Chaosfaith
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    *sighs*
    Shatterbird's confirmed dead, Void, and an adult besides. (see here for more info on that) Fearmongering's lame.
    I think this spike thing is like a focus. Laz0rs maybe? Or maybe it gives sight?

    ►dadjokedadtime
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    look black rose healing panacea is an important thing to put in her sightings thread even if she was present in civvies. obviously don't go looking for her id or else the mods will banhammer your ass but it's 110% relevant to the topic at hand, and my bad jokes don't interfere with the readability of my post, so back off mkay

    ►Nod
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Your point is valid, however
    I feel it slightly more relevant to point out that Nebula and Black Rose might juust be the awesomest capes to hit the streets so far.
    Like, holy shit guys

    ►Quicksilver Tongues (Original Poster)
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    Mentioned it, dadjoke, thanks!

    EDIT: They do seem cool, Nod. Especially their getups! (but Miss Militia's still cooler :p)
    Last edited April 27th, 2011

    ►Und3rPr3ssur3
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    You're joking, right? Where are your standards? ._.

    ►MizuneQueen
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    How Dare You Nod This Is Mouse Protector Erasure
    But I'm willing to give them third & fourth after Our Lady Of Mice and also Panacea

    ►Nod
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    brb, updating BB Cape Tierlist
    Pressure, buzz off

    ►DeathSticks (Banned)
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    *User has been banned for this post*

    ►Tin_Mother     (Moderator)
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    DeathSticks, we don't do racial slurs here. Take 12 to go home and rethink your life choices.

    ►Und3rPr3ssur3
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    I'm just saying that it's so annoying how people always see a new cape, declare that they're their new favorite and then the cape either dies off or does something stupid.
    Or another one comes along and they become the favorite instead.
    We don't even know what these two can *do*.

    ✰S T U P I D✰
    ¯\_(⊗̃ ㅅ⊗̃)_/¯
    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4

    (Showing page 2 of 4)
    ►Nod
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    well who's /your/ favorite then? these two are new but they've done alot already
    (yes, mommy! I'm behaving)

    ►NowIssDansenTime
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    aaand the Nazis are here. Great.
    CT: why did they end up being the ones to deal with the legally-not-Kudzu? Their costumes don't have enough protective equipment for that imo but then again I'm just a layperson so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    ►Answer Key
    Replied On Apr 27th 2011:
    the /what/

    ►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    The 'legally-not-Kudzu' was created by one of the explosions, Dansen. While I can't confirm/deny much else, I /will/ say that both Nebula and Black Rose were on patrol with Battery and Assault prior to the vine creation being called in. They chose to take part in the operation willingly.

    ►TentacoolInBed
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Huh.

    Quick, someone get SP in on this.

    ►Mouse_Protector's_Covert_Civilian_Account (100% Anonymouse)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    While I'm sure she appreciates the love, MizuneQueen, Our Lady of Mice is a big fan of new heroes going out heroing, so make sure you don't discourage the teens who are doing such an excellent job! ၄ စ ౪ စ ၃

    ►AGoodOldFashioned
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    bombs going off all over and they spend all night just helping one building? What's so special about them? Why are me and my neighbourhood stuck driving the long way around to get out for days?

    ►tehOldeWan1999
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    HI MP YOU'RE AWESOME AND I LUV YOU <33333333
    *User has been warned for this post*

    ►UnderpaidBotanist
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    AGoodOldFashioned I don't know if you noticed but that plant fucker was growing. All things considered I think stopping the hostile plant construct that was actively threatening lives is a slightly higher priority than fixing some random patch of blocked-up road when that's a solid chunk of the city.

    Now go and donate to those who ACTUALLY need help: [Brockton Crater Recovery Initiative]

    ►Glitzglam
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Do we even know if they could do anything to fix a blocked road? Like, Rose's power is those thorn things, that isn't super conducive to repaving a road or clearing out rubble.

    ►plantsformilfs
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Most capes just destroy things don't they? Building them is a whole nother ball game

    ►mathwasaMISTAKE
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Plantsformilfs, what the heck do you think tinkers are for? Sounds proofing?

    ►KidWinsNumberOneFan (Cape Groupie)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    in this city? mostly pissing off Kaiser

    ►PM_ME_UR_MASK (Cape Husband)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Ironically enough, this is a problem best solved with high explosives.

    EDIT: okay okay I get it, not funny or whatever
    Last edited April 28th, 2011
    *User has been warned for this post*

    ►Scales4Days
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Mask. Dude. Not cool.

    Also, those bombs weren't normal bombs. I'm pretty sure one hit fucking absolute zero! I know powers are bullshit, but what the actual hell!

    ►PhysiksSnek
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Tinkers are even more bullshit than most other powers. But I don't think physics is that far gone. Shit gets really wild at absolute zero. While I don't begrudge that that bomb likely hit some very very frigid temperatures, I can't believe it actually hit absolute zero. I refuse to accept it.

    ►FuckThermo482
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    yeah no if shit hit absolute zero we'd know by dint of the localized atmospheric collapse around the bomb and also every single thermodynamicist this side of Tierra del Fuego booking a ticket to Brockton Bay to see the site

    ►plantsformilfs
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Wouldn't that just be time stopping or something in an area? Isn't there already a cape who can do that in the bay.. Yeah the clock one with the pr nightmare name lol

    EDIT: Okay, Snek, sure, but what about the fucking glass bullshit? like. Is that actual transmutation going on there?
    Last edited April 28th, 2011

    ►FuckThermo482
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    No.
    //sips some coffee
    Long story short, absolute zero is essentially "particles stop having the subatomic movement we consider temperature", whereas the shit that Clockblocker does is… not that, based on the fact that you can hit them with an IR thermometer and still get a temperature reading. It's some sort of temporary inviolability akin to what Alexandria* does that just so happens to freeze them in place relative to the planet, if that makes more sense to you.

    * - I may be wrong here. Obviously.
    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4

    (Showing page 3 of 4)
    ►plantsformilfs
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Just found out they did use a time stop bomb :/ So uh I think that counts as zero degrees temperature or something

    ►FuckThermo482
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    not really? Again, you can use an IR thermometer and still get a temperature reading off of things inside of them.

    Content tax because oh god mods please don't hurt me: so what's up with the costumes that Nebula and BR are wearing? Do they have a Tinker on standby, is it some weird Breaker power, or is it just bought off of like eBay?

    ►PhysiksSnek
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    And isn't that such a conundrum FuckThermo482. Considering that if what clockblocker freezes actually somehow stopped in time then WHY IS IT STILL MOVING WITH THE EARTH! Ahem anyways we should probably move this stuff to either the Docks Bombing thread, Tinkers Are Bullshit thread or one of Science of Powers threads. We've suitably derailed from the topic here.

    ►NoCapesOnCapes
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    FuckThermo482 I think those are tinkertech. P/sure parian has a deal with toybox for weird shit like that.

    ►insanelntheNbrane
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    NoCapesOnCapes, it's just a light-show isn't it? No need to accuse them of working with Toybox. Still those are high quality costumes for newbies, did they have an early raid from a gang stash house that we didn't hear about?

    ►generalsherman
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    maybe it was just industrial espionage? If you can call embezzling money from a gang industrial espionage, that is? I've heard that the Nazis were getting worked up even before the whole place exploded… (not even mentioning Stormtiger and Cricket - maybe NnBR got paid for the capture? They should be)

    ►insanelntheNbrane
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    I know registered indy heroes can take a cut of seized cash at a bust but does that count towards bank accounts? It probably wouldn't come up often, it might not explicitly say either way.

    ►Char
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    insaneIntheNbrane
    Maybe they're rich?

    ►insanelntheNbrane
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    I was wondering that too but wasn't sure if it got too closer to identity speculation.

    ►generalsherman
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    I mean. On one hand the law is the law, but on the other hand, they're Nazis and I don't think anyone's gonna look too closely at their accounts being a little lighter than they should be even if they did go over that monetary limit.

    ►Scales4Days
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Spoken like a white dude who's never really interacted with cops. You have any idea how many boys in blue are wearing 88's under that uniform?

    ►generalsherman
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    …aren't financial crimes handled by the FBI or WEDGDG, depending on jurisdiction? I didn't think that the Brockton Bay Nazis had gotten their hooks that far into the US government, but if they have… time to live up to the username and march to the sea, I guess. Also, bold of you to assume I'm "a white dude who's never interacted with cops", but go off I guess

    ►OrganEyeSir (Not an Eye)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Vigilante laws are also a thing, no?

    ►RiseAgain (Banned)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    *User has been banned for this post*

    ►AndOnceMore-WithFeeling
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    uhhhh what the hell
    mods?

    ►KidWinsNumberOneFan (Cape Groupie)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    Holy fuck.

    ►Hope_In_Pithos (Admin)
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    IP banned and reported to the FBI.
    We do *not* tolerate threats of physical violence against members of our board. Doxxing either.

    ►Scales4Days
    Replied On Apr 28th 2011:
    ...Welp. *That* happened.

    Anyway, sherman, sorry man. Misread your original. Thought you were saying that the law would be the one's looking the other way, my mistake. At least something good came of my mistake.

    ►NoCapesOnCapes
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    I work with costuming, you can't get effects like that without either digital after effects, or tinker tech. Not applied to hair like that. As for Toybox, technically they're a neutral party. No more illegal than the guys who sell normal guns. They sell non weapon tinktertech. You'd be surprised how popular cosmetic tinker tech is to the upper crust. Still makes me wonder how the hell those two could afford it. Did New Wave help them out after they saved panacea?

    ►Procto the Unfortunate Tinker (Not a tinker)
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    can confirm that the stuff they're using is Tinkertech. The effects they've got look like custom-made ones that are part of one of the specialty packages sold by Curio, who's a tinker specializing in "enhanced costumewear" according to him but realistically it's just VFX irl. They're actually not as expensive as you might suspect since his primary audience is cosplay fans looking to take their stuff to the next level as opposed to like actual capes, but they're rated pretty well in terms of longevity in comparison to most known alternatives.
    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4

    (Showing page 4 of 4)
    ►NoCapesOnCapes
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Huh, Got a link or anything? That'd really help with work.

    ►Procto the Unfortunate Tinker (Not a tinker)
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Check PMs.

    Anyways, has anyone heard anything about supporting members for those two? I wouldn't trust anyone less powerful than, like, Myrddin to be able to be an indie with only one other cape in that city, and I'm hoping they don't get shipped off to the overseas Nazi brainwashing division.

    ►TripleJay
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Like honestly though, can we really trust them? They say they're heroes but like what actual heroic things have they done that's confirmed? Do we actually know that Rose healed Panacea? The fact that they aren't directly in the Wards? Like teenagers shouldn't be out doing this unsupervised. New Wave and the Protectorate have that set up for a reason. And the fact that they've got high quality gear? I dunno. This feels like a pair of covert villains trying to build up good will. Whether or not they're connected with the gangs or playing a long game solo I don't know yet, but I would not trust them to not end up being a menace on our streets.

    ►Throwaway 42519
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    TripleJay, they saved me. I was attacked by five skinheads and they were going to rob me. Maybe worse. Black Rose and Nebula stopped it all from happening and stayed with me until the authorities got there. Without them I might very well have ended up in a ditch somewhere. Rose, Nebula, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

    Not using my regular account for safety purposes.

    ►PromiseofDawn
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Triplejay are you really trying to tell them to join the fucking cops? In Brockton Bay? For... what, the crime of *checks notes* having powers and helping with S&R after the Docks blew up? Grow up.

    ►GrainSubsidiary5
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    "Like honestly though, can we really trust the Triumvirate? They say they're heroes but like what actual heroic things have they done that's confirmed? It's not like you can trust mainstream media. Do we actually know that Legend is gay? He says he is, but how can we know? I dunno. This feels like a trio of covert villains trying to build up good will. Whether or not they're connected with the gangs or controlling the world from the shadows I don't know yet, but I would not trust them to not end up being a menace on our streets."

    … seriously though dude fuck off with your paranoia. We need more heroes, don't treat them like shit.

    ►Nebula (Verified Cape)
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Yes, TripleJay, Rose did indeed heal her. Either of the Dallon sisters can confirm this if asked.

    To those curious, the attack in question broke some of PanPan's ribs & spine, amongst other things. Not something one can just walk off without being a regenerator Brute.

    ►okay1nturn
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    they have done nothing to make you think that they are villains. How dare you, how DARE you slander them in such a way. Its always like this with you, everyone who isnt prt is a vilian in disguise, you said the same thing about new wave, you said the same about haven, you have said that about every single parahuman who isnt a part of the prt. I normaly just stay quiet but this is upsurd. Hey MODS cant we get this guy for slander or something? At least an infraction for spreeding harmful rumors or the like?

    ►B333333333333S
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    ~if I ignore the drama it'll go away~
    ~if I ignore the drama it'll go away~
    c'mon, everyone, all together now! pray the Jay away!~
    wait no, that sounds wrong

    in other news, clowns aren't cool and never will be; props to rosie, big healz up in dis bish

    ►Nod
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Shit, that sounds like it /hurt/. She's alright, right?

    ►Nebula (Verified Cape)
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Last I heard? Yes, Nod. Annoyed by Circus being still out there, but perfectly healthy.

    ►ExcitedRed
    Replied On Apr 29th 2011:
    Ouch, poor PanPan. :((

    What about the two's powers, though? C'mon, people, that's the funnest part!
    Black Rose healed Panacea, and she can make those spiky things people talked about in the Dallons vs Circus thread... Does this mean she stabs people back to life? (sounds like surgery in a nutshell tbh)

    Hey, Nebula, mind throwing us a bone? And maybe a clue or two about your own power? :)
    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4


    I was so immersed that I didn't notice me blazing through the whole thread in one go. Honestly, that wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be — Even Mouse Protector commented! The me of several years ago would've been bouncing around the cafeteria and cheering, all others be damned.

    The me of now, though, was simply glad. A bit giddy, yes, knowing that people liked us, but mostly glad. Relieved? Either way, I schooled my expression to not give anything away.

    "I'll leave a comment later," Amy said, leaning back and stretching. "No phone right now, thanks to Carol." …And wasn't that an unwanted annoyance.

    "Yeah, me and Lise noticed that yesterd- Oh!" The burners! "I completely forgot about-"

    "Uh, Taylor?"

    I looked at Chris. Why..? Right, the phone. I was an idiot. "Sorry, I- Here." I slid the phone back to the boy with a light smile. "Thanks, Chris."

    He just nervously nodded and took it.

    "Where'd Vicky go?" Amy asked, looking around.

    "Dean called through me a few minutes ago," Carlos explained. Dennis and Chris' faces hardened a bit in response to that. "She went somewhere more quiet."

    The healer blinked. "Oh."

    Melissa, to the left of us, cleared her throat. "Right. It's been real but the bell's in like ten minutes so I'm gonna go. Gotta compare some homework 'n' stuff. Byeee~" She gave a short wave, put an earbud in one of her ears with a practiced flourish, then walked away.

    "And then there were five," Dennis said, cleaning up.

    Since I still had things to tell Amy, I decided to take some inspiration from Melissa. "Three, actually. Amy and I have Biology next…"

    …And I needed to hand her the package while I still remembered to.

    Amy was, thankfully, quick on the uptake. "Yeah. Biology. C'mon, Taylor, let's go." She slung her bag over her shoulder and took the trash from her lunch. "Later." The boys gave their farewells, and we fell in step on the way to our next class.

    A slight course correction from me, though, told Amy that I wanted to talk in private.

    ▲​

    "So?" Amy finally asked me after we'd checked all the stalls for eavesdroppers.

    I took another cursory glance of everything around us before placing my backpack next to a sink, then began rummaging in it for a paper bag with two phones in it, plus a small box. "Lisa got you some stuff. You and your sister," I said. "...Found it. Here, I was waiting for an opening to give them to you but then, uh, forgot. Until now."

    Amy took it and peeked inside. "Flip phones?" She looked at me. "Why? I guess I did want to get one to spite Carol…"

    I nodded. "Yeah, that's what they're for. Fresh burners; two hundred minutes on each. One for you, one for Victoria, and both my and Lisa's numbers are already in them."

    "And each other too?" Amy pocketed both.

    "And each other too," I confirmed. "Just stay in contact?"

    The girl hummed. "Thanks." As her head bobbed forwards in a half-hearted way, a tilt of the bag made the remaining object fall out into her free palm. Amy frowned. "Huh." She raised both eyebrows and looked at me, gesturing with the hand and the unopened container. "You got me a ring?"

    "I- Wuh?" I blinked twice before looking at the box she was holding.

    …Okay, she had a point — it really did look rather similar to a ring box. It was dark silver, with a fuzzy surface and a clasp at the front, currently locked. There were no markings except for one at the bottom — the logo of Curio, a commercial Tinker — and- Oh, Amy just opened it.

    In the middle laid one of his brooches.

    "Lisa said going with the navette one was for the best," I explained, feeling awkward. "Which is this one. So… yeah. Welcome to the team?" Then my words caught up to me. "Not that you aren't already on the team! I just meant that, um, each of us have these now, so it- What?" Amy was smirking at me. "What did I say?" This was frustrating.

    "Nothing," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry. Just watching you being a big dork again."

    "I don't know if I should feel insulted by that."

    Amy shrugged, then looked back at the brooch.

    Like mine and Lisa's, the piece of jewelry was just as dark as a turned-off touch screen. Its shape was a 'navette', or a vertical eye, and beside it was a tiny user manual. Amy already had the USB cord in her hand, flicking it for no apparent reason as she inspected the high-tech gift. She glanced at the entrance to the bathroom, then put it back. Then frowned again.

    Her mouth opened near-soundlessly before closing as she looked at me, her expression unreadable.

    "Do you not like it?" I asked.

    "What? No. The brooch looks nice. I just- Ugh." She huffed. "Thank you." Ah, she was just feeling moody, then.

    Smiling, I leaned on the sink top next to her. "You're welcome. And, uh, Lisa sends her regards too. Obviously."

    "Obviously."

    "Keep it in the box when you leave, though — it blocks the scanners," I relayed Lisa's warning. Those odd frames at Arcadia's entrance could detect tinkertech, or at least some of it, and most schools had some sort of iteration of the device. Back at Winslow, there was only an X-ray; a sabotaged one. It was useless. There were so many students with knives there, and yet the thing had never even beeped once. The frames here, though, were fully functional — at least two people got caught smuggling something since I'd started out barely two weeks ago.

    Not a common occurrence, apparently.

    "Nifty," Amy intoned, but I didn't hear much enthusiasm. She was just passing the brooch box from one hand to the other, staring off into the distance. Thinking.

    "Amy?"

    She stopped fidgeting and looked at me tiredly. "What?" …Huh. Okay, this was not just her brooding for no reason.

    "What's the problem?" I asked. Did I do something? Say something?

    "Give me your hand. I need to test a thing." Hers was extended already, sideways.

    "Okay..?" I acquiesced. Our fingers entwined.

    "Hm." The numerous freckles on her face scrunched up as she focused. "Everything's normal… But what was the reason..? Unless…" She looked me in the eyes. "Brain."

    The hazy memory of last night returned with a vengeance, making me flinch as the word took me by surprise. I had almost thrown up, but I kept it down, just barely; still, my nausea grew and my head spun.

    Amy released my hand as if burnt, cradling it near her chest with wide eyes, and watched me turn to retch into a sink. "The f- Taylor?!"

    I didn't answer as I focused on breathing, on keeping my mind off of that foul stench. I still remembered it with vivid clarity…

    I looked at my mirrored reflection.

    My skin was pale, paler than normal. My nostrils flared as I sucked in the air. My hair was everywhere, chaotic, and loose strands obscured most of my face. Amy… Amy stood at arms length by my left side, stock still. She looked horrified. Her eyes darted between me, the hand I gave her, and her own.

    The following dozen or so seconds were tense, yet silent. I took my glasses off. The sensations had, thankfully, slowly abated as I began washing my face with cold water. Amy watched my actions cautiously, but still passed some paper towels once I was done. I nodded, wordlessly thanking her… even as I noted her avoidance of direct contact.

    "W-what even- Taylor, what the fuck happened? W-why that reaction?" Amy was still noticeably staying away from me, almost pressed into the corner of the bathroom, next to the garbage can. Why was she so alarmed? It- it didn't make sense to me.

    I asked her, still weary: "Why are you panicking?"

    "S-so it wasn't because of me? All of… that?"

    I frowned at that, then shook my head. Why did she think it was her fault?.. Oh. Somehow, I'd managed to forget about Amy's fear of being able to change brains. While Lisa did indeed tell me of it a week ago, her insight had still slipped my mind, especially lately — during our power binge, mere days before Bakuda, Amy was genuinely the happiest I'd ever seen her.

    Granted, said binge obviously didn't contain any brain editing, but still — I knew that we could do it, in theory, and simply discarded it into the 'last resort' pile.

    She inched closer, but was still wary. I offered a tired, crumbling smile along with a sigh. "It's fine, Amy. Really. I just… remembered something I'd rather forget." I quickly peeked over my shoulder at the entrance again, just in case. Satisfied, I reached out for my partner's hand. "It has nothing to do with you."

    Amy looked at our clasped-again hands and seemed to calm down a bit. "Not me?"

    I had to nip this weed of self-doubt in the goddamn bud. "Never." I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "We both know that I know all there is to know about your power. All of its possibilities, and that includes the stuff we could do…" I took a shuddering breath. Fuck, why I couldn't I just say it? "...Upstairs."

    A very light tingling sensation spread across my body a moment later, making me feel a familiar warmth; temporary, but oh-so-comfortable. It was as if breathing had become less difficult, which it probably did. Or maybe not. Did she slow down my heartbeat, perhaps?

    Our eyes met and I smiled again. "Thanks." And now, I just had to finish what I was talking about… "Anyway, you do understand what I meant, right? I won't get scared by your power out of the blue."

    Amy hummed out an affirmative. "Sorry. I- Well, you know how I'm not you with most of it. But… still. I saw you earl-" The 'five minutes left' chime had interrupted Amy's explanation, making her scowl at the ceiling in annoyance. We waited for several seconds. "...I saw the same shit with you earlier, back when I mentioned the stuff at the table. Thought that maybe it was nothing, but decided to check just in case, hence this. Taylor, that was a trauma response," The healer said, her voice having an edge to it. "So, I'm gonna ask again: what. The fuck. Happened?"

    I closed my eyes. I breathed. I was going to tell her, anyway. "Last night was just…" I started, "...a lot. 'A shitshow'. We went to check one of the places on Lisa's list, but got sidetracked on the way there by some ABB guys. We did catch them and tie them up, but Lisa listened in a bit and noticed that the guy they were beating up was a ganger too." I gulped for air again. "The… the worst part, though, was when we went to explore the building we were all in, a-after we'd gotten them already."

    "...And?"

    "A pile of bodies. N-no brains. Wet. And so putrid…" My eyes opened up again. I felt Amy's power-made warmth within me for a second time. "Whoever Acrid is… he did that. And then his gang just disposed of the evidence." While picking at a piece of stray lint, I slowly turned my gaze away from the ceiling.

    "Fuck," Amy summed things up perfectly. "No wonder you've been so wound up! Are… are you sure he has a gang?"

    "Mhm, the Reefer Dealers. Lisa heard the guy who brought the bodies say it to the others."

    "Honestly, I don't even know how to respond to that." Her voice was grim. "Yeah, just… Yeah. Sorry for poking the trauma. This is so fucking bullshit," Amy huffed extra-tiredly.

    As I agreed, with us both in thought, my eyes began to wander. Now what? The brooch box was still out in the open, sitting alone next to our backpacks atop the counter, so I picked it up and returned it to its owner. "Probably best to hide it," I half-whispered.

    Amy nodded and put the thing away. "Are you any better, though?"

    I cleared my throat. "Might need some water." There was a water fountain somewh-

    "There's a soda vend nearby." …Nevermind, then.

    "That works."

    We took our bags and, promptly, left.

    Our trek to the vending machine was, of course, utterly silent and almost calm. 'Almost', because Amy was getting more fidgety and annoyed — she'd even mirrored my earlier maneuver with juice, practically inhaling her can of Coke in one long swig. My throat burned in sympathy as I grimaced.

    "A minute left," she announced, unphased. "Honestly? I say we ditch."

    The fact that Panacea, of all people, was suggesting that we play hooky made me do a double take. "Really?"

    Amy impatiently threw her arms to the sides. "Yes!" She lowered her voice, then, looking around without turning her head. "I can't deal with this bullshit today. I just want to hang out. Maybe do some more 'art'. It feels so good to just… cut loose for once. And right now? I think we both need it."

    She was right; I nodded.

    The freckled healer let out a relieved breath, then tugged me forward. "C'mon. Vicky has Trig right now, and she's probably already inside…" Amy trailed off.

    Both of us spotted the Alexandria package when we turned a corner. She was still in the hallway, animatedly chatting with several other girls.

    "Vicky!" Amy called out. I waved as well, but it felt rather forced.

    Victoria excused herself and came closer. "Hey, Ames! Hey, Taylor! Why are you still here? Class is about to-"

    "We know," Amy cut her off. "Can you cover for us? If anyone asks, at least?"

    Her sister blinked. "You're leaving? Why? Why now?"

    "'Cause I'm tired, Vicky. Both of us are. And it's not like the teachers will bother mentioning anything important with so many not here. Heck, History was literally us watching a movie." A documentary, but I didn't correct her.

    With a soft 'huh' noise, Victoria looked us over. "Oh-kaaay…" Odd. What did she expect? One of her eyebrows remained raised.

    "Vicky."

    "What?"

    "It was my idea."

    The blonde blinked again. "Oh."

    The bell rang. Thankfully, Amy didn't bother wasting any more time: she took out one of the gifted burners and handed it to her sister. "Here's my bribe."

    Victoria's surprise quickly gave way to understanding. She nodded, grinning. "Gotcha."

    Amy snorted, gave her a hug, and sent her off to go enter the classroom. With that loose end taken care of, we were ready to finally leave.
     
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    • Vulpine Error: Eyes on the Prize (Part 2) - Non-canon Omake by QroGrotor
  • Index
    • Well, here's the continuation of the 'Vulpine Error' omake.

    - - -

    Using its newfound agility, the shadow easily sneaked into a seemingly unremarkable, hostel-like building, located deep in the gang's territory. She sneaked to a closed door and opened it just enough for her to see what she wanted. The goal was in sight. All she needed to do now, is bypass the two thugs that guarded the door. Usually, the advantage of being a cape would be enough to at least make her targets hesitate, but one of the guards looked like a mountain, holding an automatic rifle in his hands on top of that. She'd have to find a way around him.

    There was no way visible way in. Even should she somehow scare them off or knock them out, there was no way she could open a heavy, armored door. Not without the keys to the lock, which she couldn't simply take from the two, if they even had them. No. She'd have to find another way in.

    Still, she was no longer limited to using words as weapons. And she had a den to furnish and make more comfortable for her mates.

    A decision was made as the girl took off in a sprint, swinging the door wide open. With the change in anatomy, her power had adapted to maximize its usage. It didn't take long before she reached the two guards. They were startled by her sudden appearance; she was on their heels even before they fully realized what happened. As the first guard tried to raise his gun, she grabbed him by the shirt and kicked him between the legs with all her might, then punched him right on the nose. The second one quickly turned around, but he got a face full of fist just as quick. He went down hard on his ass, trying to recover himself.
    The girl turned to the now fallen guard, who was desperately trying to get up, holding a bleeding nose. "Where are the keys," She asked matter-of-factly, wiping blood off her knuckles. As he tried to back away, she followed him, looking for an opening.

    "Fuck!" he cursed as she caught him with a solid kick to the gut, sending him sliding across the room, where he crashed into the wall with his back.

    'That is a slippery floor. Damn.'

    The other man finally regained his bearings, but before he managed to do anything, a sharp strike to his throat and a knee to the temple quickly finished the fight.

    She wasted no time, diving into the man's pockets, searching for a phone. Her power led the girl's actions, telling her what exact number to call. A few minutes later, the door swung open, with a stunned looking woman in aviator goggles looking at two of her fellow gang members, lying on the ground, unconscious. Before she managed to fully process the information, the butt of the rifle collided with her temple and dropped the woman.

    The confrontation was quick, efficient and relatively stealthy. Just like she liked it.

    With the door to her treasure wide open, the girl strolled into the room, her eyes growing wide from excitement. Covered in gold and considered one of the rarest pieces in the world, it was even more gorgeous than the girl had ever expected it to be. There was, however, one big question that she didn't really know how to answer.

    How was she supposed to get it out of here?


    "So, you're telling me," the large man in a metal mask had started. "That a teenaged girl, imagining herself a kitsune, managed to take down two of the guards posted near the door with assault rifles no less, and then disabled my handmaiden? Not only that, she somehow stole the one thing that should've been impossible to steal. Am I getting this right?"

    The larger of the two men standing in front of Kenta slowly nodded, before his face was suddenly grabbed. He tried to swing at the cape, but the punch never made it to its target. In a burst of flame, the man's eyeballs evaporated, all the internal organs turning to ash in mere seconds.

    "Let this serve as an example to all of you. No one gets to take what belongs to me. Now, go find Lee. I will have him return the kidnapped property."

    The room was quickly emptied, as no one wanted to take the risk of annoying Lung, only the disfigured body of his 'example' keeping him company.

    'I care not for who you are, little fox, but no one dares to steal from the dragon.'

    And yet, even if his rage was slowly starting to rise, he could understand the motives of the thief. Laz-y-boy couch was one of a kind, after all.


    "Taylor? What are you doing?"

    Moaning in bliss, the girl turned towards Amy and smiled.

    "Enjoying the couch. My God, I never knew there was a built-in massage function in these things. Where'd you order it?"

    "I didn't order it," Amelia noted, raising her eyebrow. While she certainly wasn't against getting some proper furniture into their lair, ordering something could potentially set off the PRT, so it didn't seem like a good idea.

    "Huh? But… Who did? Wait a minute, you don't think it's-"

    "Our crazed girlfriend? I'm unsure. Even if she should be perfectly cognizant of her actions, I do not think she'd risk giving our location away."

    Somewhere not too far from their base, an explosion rang out, disrupting the quiet night. Quickly exchanging glances, Taylor and Amy ran to the computer, in order to get some idea of what was going on. The mystery of the couch could wait until later.
     
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  • Index
    • Reaction 3.8
  • Threadmarks
    • Reaction 3.8
    ▲
    Taylor​

    I could hear the faint sound of static coming from our living room TV, the kind that was noticeably louder with older models like ours — the fat ones. Lisa was likely lounging on the sofa then, busy with her eternal pursuit for knowledge. Neither Amy nor I had the energy to call out and announce our arrival, but that was fine — I'd already notified Lisa on the way home.

    I closed the door.

    We encountered no hiccups during our attempt at exiting school, thankfully enough — all I had to do was look nonchalant and stay close to Amy as we scanned our ID cards. After that, we were free to go, so we went straight to the bus stop nearby. There were no detours, none at all — the gang war was still ongoing, even during the day.

    Amy was tense throughout the ride, and I half-regretted making her worry that much. To distract us both, she decided to regale me of her conquests in that computer game she'd often play upon coming home after a hospital visit. She spoke of one 'Pope of Pestilence', a burning lady, an embodiment of the cosmos, a liquid Changer… Zeus was there too, which I found odd.

    Regardless, that helped with the mood somewhat.

    "Damn, you look even worse." Amy said as she strolled into the living room.

    Lisa sniffed in a snooty way as I entered too. "You suck at compliments." Our Thinker was where I'd expected her to be, her laptop set aside just mere seconds ago, and Lisa herself was wrapped in a soft blanket.

    …Amy was right — she did look haggard. The bags under her eyes were almost as severe as our resident healer's, at least with the current lighting; said eyes were also bloodshot, and she yawned right after saying her piece. During these few long weeks that I'd known her, Lisa pushed herself like this almost all of the time. Being reminded of it yet again made me think of how much more she could take before crashing.

    Amy dropped next to her on the couch like a bag of rocks, then let out a breath. "What's with your eyes? Not too damaged, I guess… Did you stare into the sun or something?"

    "Nah." Lisa stretched, keeping contact with Amy's hand. "Just a phone light. Was stalling for Tay."

    Amy seemed like she wanted to say something in response, but just huffed as usual and shook her head.

    "I can do your bags too," I offered Amy, seeing the ones under Lisa's eyes fading away. Dad's car wasn't in the driveway, so I didn't have to worry about him being home and seeing my thorns.

    "Please."

    I sat by Amy's other side, created a thorn and went straight to work. I was getting better at identifying biological components and processes intellectually, as opposed to intuitively, so I could see her anxiety and stress with relative ease. They gnawed at me.

    "Did you eat something besides these, at least?" Amy asked, nudging a nearly-empty box of sugar cookies sitting on the table nearby. "And don't try to lie."

    Lisa, fully knowing that Amy was a living lie detector, sighed and silently stared back at her, unamused.

    Amy copied her.

    "We might need to come up with a punishment or something," I said after dismissing my thorn. "This is getting ridiculous." While my tone could've been interpreted as slightly jovial at the moment, my intentions were anything but: I meant it. She had to unwind.

    "Oh, I have an idea," Amy grinned devilishly, leaning back.

    "Ames," our Thinker said in a warning tone.

    "Yes, Lisa?"

    "Don't you even dare."

    "But it's perfectly fair!"

    I made a show of tapping my chin with my index finger. "I might've guessed what you're thinking of, Amy, and I have to agree."

    Now it was Lisa's turn to act in an exaggerated manner: she gasped theatrically. "Mutiny?!"

    "No coffee?" Amy asked me.

    I nodded. "No coffee."

    "What the fuck!" Lisa exclaimed. "That's unfair!"

    "What's unfair is the abuse that your mind has to keep enduring, Lise. You need to rest." I held her gaze, feeling my lips curl into a smug smile. "And besides, a little tea wouldn't hurt."

    "You're reaching dangerous levels of smugness." Her glare had no heat to it. "I will file a lawsuit. Maybe two."

    Amy snorted. "Scary, coming from someone wrapped in a blanket. All you're missing is a cup of hot chocolate and a Christmas movie."

    Lisa rolled her eyes. A wry smile remained on her face for the few seconds of indecision before she huffed and crossed her arms. "Fine, but-"

    "-God damnit-"

    "-In that case, Amy loses coffee privileges too if she spends more than two hours a day on healing, barring emergency stuff."

    "...Dick move."

    "Yup!" Lisa agreed saccharinely.

    Amy turned to me with a blank expression. "Not gonna lie, I'm too tired to bother fighting it right now."

    This was probably for the best, so I nodded slower. "So mote it be."

    "Dork." Both of them said it at the same time. "Jinx!" Amy was faster, making Lisa groan, and I smiled wider at their antics. A glance at the TV didn't show anything interesting, just a muted commercial with the subtitles on. I decided to take one of Lisa's cookies, with Amy hot on my heels as well.

    "But yeah," the biokinetic continued with a cheek bulging out like a hamster's. "You need to rest."

    Lisa looked at her laptop, then back at us. "Just let me update you two, at least?"

    "Amy is here…" I acknowledged. The girl in question merely shrugged, still chewing. "Do we do it down here, or..?"

    "Upstairs. Was going to try napping again anyway, but… eh."

    The mood turned somber again, and the silence stretched out before Amy sighed. "I prescribe serotonin." With that, she wrapped her arms around Lisa; the blonde hugged back through the blanket enveloping her. I slid in as well, moving between their embrace and the back of the couch, squeezing them both, because… why wouldn't I?

    Amy's head was the closest, so I rested my own upon it.

    Her frizzy hair was more disheveled than usual, and a faint odor suggested that Amy hadn't showered yet. I didn't mind it, just snuggling in deeper, and so did Lisa. Our collective rigidity melted. I felt a shaky intake of air from the softest among us, then a sigh. Her head wobbled slightly. Something told me that she needed the hug just as much as Lisa did. As I did.

    The smell of lavender — Lisa's shampoo — drew my eyes to the profile of her face, which was tilted downward. Her eyelids were closed, and what I could see of her lips betrayed a very soft smile. Not the cheeky, friendly grin she wore during banter; not the gleeful, almost sadistic one she reserved for her enemies, for her 'teardowns'. This one was truly happy. Content.

    And so was mine.

    It had been so long since I'd smiled so often, and one could even say that I'd forgotten how to. But then came Lisa… then Amy as well… and I remembered it all again. Now, I just basked in the comfort, shielded from the horrors of life by twin rays of sunlight. We'd have to leave it eventually, I knew that… but just a sliver, just a shimmer would still follow.

    "Weird…" I heard Lisa murmur to herself. The sound was almost imperceptible, likely not meant to be overheard. More like a series of breathless lip movements than a word, really. I was about to ask about it, but the Thinker yawned. Then so did I.

    Oops.

    "I can see you falling asleep, y'know. We can call this off," Amy said, speaking into the blonde's shoulder without moving.

    "Better not to." Lisa yawned again. "Shome big shtuff's happenin'... Eugh." She rolled her neck, making Amy pull back with an annoyed but adorable groan.

    "Such as?" I queried, still leaning against Amy from behind. "Reinforcements?"

    "Nope, but still good news. Lung got a kill order."

    My eyes widened.

    "Wait, what the fuck? Really?" Amy asked, causing Lisa to nod. "Finally! They should've signed it ages ago, the lazy cunts! Do you even know how many people I had to heal because of him?"

    "Better late than never?" I suggested with a mental shrug, squeezing Amy from behind to calm her down a bit.

    She only hummed in an ambivalent response.

    Lisa's stretches caused her to shed her blanket, revealing the dark T-shirt she had appropriated on her first day here. "This was decided during the director meetup, I guarantee you. They needed Costa-Brown's approval, and she usually sits in on these sorts of things."

    "I figured," Amy noted dryly. "Still think they could've done it faster."

    "He killed a Ward, which is the most likely reason for them finally agreeing to this. The Protectorate was fine with letting him take his pound of unpowered flesh whenever he wanted, but now he fucked up; stepped over one of the muddled lines left in the sand by common sense." Lisa took the last cookie. "They're afraid of him rampaging through the city, which is kinda bogus considering he literally does so already."

    "See?" Amy gestured with her hands. "Just get a sniper or something, you idiots!"

    I shook my head in fond exasperation. "Nobody's disagreeing with you." A second or two later, however, I noticed a tidbit that might have some concerning ramifications. It made me frown. "Lisa… Who was the one with the credit for the signage?"

    The Thinker five raised an eyebrow. "'Credit'? Are you talking about who was publicly stated to be the one to get the kill order signed? 'Cause that's not a thing. They don't publicize that stuff. Very likely to incite retribution from other villains." That made sense… "As for what you're trying to ask me… Well. I think it's safe to say that this is part of Coil's plan: become a director, add his enemies onto the hit list supported by the government, then profit."

    Suddenly, Amy covered her face. "Fuuuuuuuck."

    I blinked. "What?"

    "I just realized that even if we somehow fuck Coil up, we still won't be able to trust any of them afterwards." The directors? The capes? "This is fucking moronic."

    "...Yeah."

    "Let me also point out that Kaiser doesn't have an order of his own yet," Lisa commented. "Then again, that would bring too mu- ahem, more heat to the city than there already is…" She sighed.

    "What, they think they'll kick off a Boston Games sequel?" Amy asked. "The Brockton Games?"

    Lisa shrugged. "Sounds about right. Couldn't be any worse than what we have now, though." …Seriously?

    "I remember someone complaining about me jinxing them," I mused. "Repeatedly, might I add. Should I return the favor?"

    Amy chuckled.

    "Fair." Lisa's raised index finger was already falling. "That's fair. Anyway, let's move upstairs. I got more knowledge left to impart on you two," she remarked. Then, she stood.

    "And there she goes," said the brown-haired menace in my arms as we watched Lisa leave.

    "And there she goes," I agreed. "...She forgot her laptop." I sighed and shook my head.

    Amy hummed, then took a deep breath. The exhale turned into a yawn, making her shake a bit. "I don't want to move," she quietly muttered, and I agreed — this felt tranquil. Soothing.

    …Then again, we'd risk Lisa falling asleep before she could inform Amy of everything else. Using phones for that instead was unsafe — like, what if her mom found out about the new burner? Knowing what I knew already, I wouldn't put it past her to try and crack it. And then she'd berate Amy again, ground her more…

    "We still need you caught up," I said apologetically.

    Amy stole a few more seconds of peace, but finally moved. "Fine." She stood up and grabbed Lisa's laptop. "I hate playing catch-up. I want to be there."

    "Yeah." I took the empty, see-through cookie container and went on a detour towards the kitchen, Amy following me. It was disposed of. "I know. It's annoying."

    "I was almost thinking of sneaking out or something. Stupid, I know, but-"

    "Why stupid?"

    Amy stared from the side, looking resigned. "'Cause if Carol finds out, I'm toast?" She resumed her progress up the stairs. "If, say, there's an emergency where I have to heal someone when I'm 'asleep' and I'm not in my room when they come to wake me? Just fucking imagine what sort of uproar that'd cause."

    I shuddered. "Nevermind. You're right." That would be bad.

    We reached my room and I opened the door, walking straight to the bed past Lisa. She was sitting at the desk, biting her lip as if solving a puzzle, while focusing on a random, turned off fairy light on the wall.

    "Stuck in your head again?" I asked warmly.

    Lisa met my eyes after a pause, then shook her head with a subdued smile. "Yeah, but nothing too serious." She took a more relaxed pose in her chair and looked around; her gaze fell upon Amy. The healer had already faceplanted next to me, the laptop lying beside her.

    I snorted.

    "Let's just get this over with," Amy groaned, barely audible through the sheets. She didn't move, though.

    "Right," Lisa replied. "Thanks for getting the laptop, by the way." Amy just raised a thumbs up. "Now, then… Amy, we still need you to see."

    I poked her.

    Amy flipped over, shot me a mock glare, then looked at Lisa. "See what?"

    In lieu of an answer, Lisa reached to the edge of the wardrobe nearby and moved a simple gray cloth to the side.

    Huh.

    Hidden beneath it were two matching cork boards — the one at the bottom was new, as it wasn't there before. Both were littered with printouts, Post-it notes and index cards of various readability, with the written parts being drawn in some sort of code. Hieroglyphics? Either way, it was done out of 'opsec', as Lisa put it back when she first showed me this, and the code was trivial to unravel with her power.

    And, of course, connecting everything were bits of multicolored yarn.

    "Oh my f- A second one?" Much like me, Amy remembered only the first board of the two.

    Lisa grinned, as per usual. "C'mon, Ames, it's in my blood!"

    "Which seems like a serious medical issue. I'm a healer; I would know."

    "...I should've stayed here to moderate her," I muttered out loud with a palm on my face.

    "No," Lisa disagreed. "You should've gone to school — as you did, by the way, so thank you — and given Amy the burners and brooch." She turned to Amy. "She did give them to y- Yeah, she did. Sweet."

    The healer beside me rolled her eyes. "I don't even know why they bothered opening up today."

    "Trying to project a facade of peace, I'd assume." Lisa shrugged. "Even if they could've waited 'till Monday. Works for us, though."

    "I guess. So, Detective Wilbourn, what sort of conspiracy theory do you have for us today?"

    Lisa pointed at a note with a stylistic drawing of a gas mask, the two lenses colored red with a marker. "Bakuda. The first of several people I'll be mentioning right now, and the one behind what had happened at the Docks. Right now she's only a Tinker six in the PRT database because of her threatening to blow up Cornell Uni in New York a while back, but I reckon she'll be bumped up to eight for the civvie evac priority if they connect the dots with a little help." The blonde winked. "I also wouldn't be surprised if they slapped a kill order on her as well — plenty of casualties and seemingly-random esoteric power effects scare people easily."

    "Huh." Amy's face was blank. "So she really is a chick. Guess Dennis was right for once."

    I raised my hand instead of cutting in, and Lisa gestured to me. "What about what Osamu told us?" I asked.

    "Osa-who?" Amy glanced at me, sitting up.

    Lisa nodded. "I was getting to that." Her index finger moved to a small photo next to the gas mask note, the yarn linking the two white in color. The girl within looked a bit older than us, glaring at the person taking the shot, and had Asian features, pale blue eyes and long, straight black hair. "Our favorite bomb Tinker."

    Amy frowned. "You unmasked her? Isn't that dangerous?"

    "Not really. The rules don't protect monsters like her, and when the PRT realizes that she's responsible for the bombing they'll start spreading the same 'do not approach, notify authorities' flyers that they do for Rachel."

    "Hellhound?"

    "Bitch, but yes. Unlike Rachel, though, Alice Tanaka here actually deserves such attention for her deeds, and there's a high chance that the local villains will have a meetup to deal with her shit soon." Lisa's smile fell. "Bet the Undersiders will be there too."

    "And Coil," I noted.

    "Mhm."

    "If you know that there's gonna be a villain meeting-" Amy started before being interrupted.

    "-I'll be doing nothing, and telling no one. Believe me, Amy, it's better that way," Lisa said with a serious tone.

    "Why?" Amy narrowed her eyes. "Protecting your old teammates?" She guessed.

    "Hell no. I'm just not being an idiot by inviting them to a raid on the Protectorate HQ."

    "Oh."

    "Like, they will sink it down to the seafloor if given a reason," Lisa pointed out.

    "Rub it in, why don't you," Amy grumbled.

    The Thinker smirked. "What did you think I was doing?"

    I crossed my legs, still eyeing the board. "What else do we know about her?"

    "Went to Cornell, but is from Boston. Asian immigrant father, Caucasian mother from Tennessee. Straight A's, but disappeared after getting a sub-par mark on some engineering exam. Arrogant." Lisa shrugged. "Nothing else of note. Remember her face, though, just in case." She leaned back and kicked off, making her chair spin.

    Amy and I stared at the picture.

    What made me feel so uncomfortable was how painfully normal the girl looked. Unremarkable. Were she a student at Winslow, or even Arcadia, I would never have guessed that she was a parahuman terrorist. I expected some scars at the least, or something…

    …Then again, this photo was taken before her trigger. How would she look like now? The same? Or different?

    Lisa's rotation had finally ended at some nebulous point during my attempts at memorization. She looked at us both, nodded to herself, then turned back to the cork board. "Next."

    The photo being pointed at this time was one of an Asian male with an upturned nose. Its quality was lower than the one of Bakuda, and the colors were sort of washed out. It felt dated. The man's most striking feature were two small, vertical laceration scars on the right side of his jaw, decorating a relaxed and self-satisfied smirk.

    I recognized him almost instantly.

    The scars looked a bit more fresh on the picture than in reality, but it was definitely Osamu… or 'Han'. I still didn't know what was up with that nickname. He wasn't a cape, at least according to Lisa. Maybe he wanted to be one? No, that couldn't be it — he'd be wearing a mask in that case, putting up an act. Or maybe he did have powers but was pretending to be a civilian? That was more possible, if still unlikely.

    I pushed my fruitless worries by the wayside, trusting in Lisa's judgment. She wouldn't lie here. Instead, I examined a clue on the cork board that stood out to me the most: a red string connected his picture to the Bakuda gas mask. Enemies. Another — yellow, this time — had stretched all the way to the black triangle at the top middle.

    "How much did Taylor tell you about last night?" Lisa asked Amy, glancing at me as she spoke.

    "That you two caught three gang members before finding a slaughterfest in their basement." She frowned. "Bad choice of words. Whatever."

    "...Yeah." The blonde's lips formed a thin line. "That's it?" She paused. "Right. So, in short, Osamu — who was one of them — told us some of what I just relayed regarding Bakuda when we'd asked him. He-"

    "And why, exactly, should we believe anything that comes from his mouth?" Amy interrupted. "He's a goddamn criminal! He was arrested, right?" Amy's arms were now crossed.

    I sighed.

    "He was, yes, but you need to remember that becoming a criminal doesn't just turn off your ability to tell the truth." Lisa yawned. "Also, I checked with my power, so that's that."

    "But why'd he just-"

    "Simple." Lisa pointed at Bakuda yet again. "She blew up several of his friends with that stunt of hers, and we literally asked about 'The Bomber'. Win-win. To him, that was a prime opportunity at getting back at her without breaking a sweat, since if the heroes actually pull this off and arrest her then he'd be able to set up an assassination attempt." She mimed a gun going off. That was…

    "Wait," I said, hesitant. "Are you sure that he'll try to do that?"

    "Pretty sure, yeah. He seemed like the type."

    "Oh." And I… wasn't as against it as I had expected myself to be. She was a terrorist. People got hurt. People have died because of her. Far, far too many; our efforts in helping with search and rescue were just a drop in the bucket by comparison. This wasn't a case of reversible crime like the things that Lisa had participated in, but instead a monster's proclamation of power.

    …Yet a part of me still felt unconvinced. Why?

    I felt movement next to me. "Fuck it," Amy muttered. "I don't care." Her eyes were laser-focused on Bakuda's civilian photo. "She deserves it. If she gets caught and sent to the Birdcage? Cool. Great. But I'm not going to lose any sleep over her getting killed."

    I remained silent.

    After a moment, the healer blinked, looking away from the picture. "Hold on." Her gaze met Lisa's. "You just said that he was arrested. How would..?" She trailed off.

    "It's a revolving door, Amy. You know this."

    "But he's not a cape!"

    "He's a lieutenant."

    "Is that what the purple between him and Lung means?" I asked, attempting to distract myself yet again.

    Lisa shook her head. "Purple's for unknowns. Osamu, despite his position on the totem pole, didn't seem like he was that big of a fan of Lung. If that's actually the case, him still being a lieutenant means that Lung doesn't know about those feelings." Our blonde friend shrugged, then looked back at the board. "Regarding his background, though… Far too many holes in the data. It would make sense for him to be from somewhere close to Kyushu — at least originally — because then I could just blame Leviathan's tsunamis for destroying all the papers before they got digitized."

    "But you did find something," I pointed out — there was that grin again, that anticipation. Lisa wouldn't be smiling in such a way without having some sort of ace in her sleeve to fall back on.

    "Elementary, my dear Watson." The Thinker's finger traced a blue piece of string. "Osamu Miura didn't flee his homeland alone, but with some company…"

    "...A brother?" Honestly, it was less of a question and more of a surprised statement.

    "Nailed it. Takao Miura, age 32. Two years younger than Osamu, at least according to social media." Lisa took out her phone while raising an index finger, unlocked it, then turned the screen towards us after a moment. "Here. Better quality than on the board." I took the device as Amy leaned in from the side.

    Indeed, the man in the picture looked pretty similar to Osamu, however without the two scars on his jaw — his nose was broken instead, and rather blatantly. The photo was of him sitting at some bar with friends, and he was partially obscured by the table, but even with what was still visible it was obvious that he was the more physically active of the two brothers.

    "Is he a lieutenant too?" Amy asked out loud without looking away.

    Lisa changed her pose. "I… don't know yet. We didn't run into him, so everything's still up in the air. From what I've seen, he's just your typical extrovert who shoots the shit with other guys in, like, bars and stuff, and sometimes records it. No known partners, possible martial arts training, laid-back personality. Take from that what you will."

    I backed out of the photo we were examining and chose a different, random post to open up — this time, a video. It was recent, from only a week ago, featuring him and some other people playing pool in a dimly-lit room, intermittently sipping on various drinks and speaking in rapid-fire japanese. Nothing unusual. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but it was obvious that one of the guys was telling a story, what with his gestures. Takao interjected sometimes, causing most of the group to erupt in laughter.

    He reminded me of a class clown like Dennis, yet mixed with a jock and a macho for good measure.

    I shrugged. "I don't know what to look for." After a pause, I gave Lisa her phone back. "Do you know if he helps his brother with doing gang stuff?"

    "Probably? Might be the reason for why Osamu was so damn certain he'd get broken out — Takao could pull some strings within the police force or something. The ABB have moles too, after all." Lisa made her chair spin again.

    I heard Amy beside me breathe out of her nose. "What a hellhole."

    "Brockton in a nutshell," our Thinker agreed.

    Amy sighed. She brought her legs up and hugged them, rubbing her knees with her face in frustration, which led to me bumping her shoulder with my own.

    She just leaned against it, still in that pose.

    How would one even take care of crime with such a frustrating amount of negligence within the government? Simply arresting the ones involved was almost useless, as they would be back on the streets sooner or later. Killing them was too brutal. Maiming, then? Same thing. Another conditional option would be to make a deal somehow, or a slew of rules, but that seemed… difficult. Messy.

    The final thing my mind had settled on was fear. Alexandria was the ur-example of this being viable, being effective: criminals weren't afraid of her 'just because' — she was inevitable. You couldn't win against her. She could be delayed with a proper strategy and correct powers — Clockblocker came to mind — and one had a chance of escaping her wrath at all if they stuck to the shadows, off of her radar, yet even that was an exercise in futility, as the hero was methodical to a fault.

    Or, at the very least, that's what the media said most of the time — I had consumed quite an impressive amount of it when I was younger, since she was my favorite. Having her be a role model for my cape activities was just… logical.

    "Two people left," Lisa declared, absently fiddling with her laptop. She yawned. "Jake…" A wave at the board. "...and Acrid."

    I felt Amy stabilize my breathing yet again. "Thanks," I whispered.

    Lisa, meanwhile, sighed, then reluctantly faced us. "Jake's a non-entity. I looked, but he's… nowhere. Fucking- No legal documents, no police reports, no missing reports — not even any facial composites! …In this state, anyway. And I only checked the ones created within the last year. There was one in goddamn Nevada-"

    "Lise, wait, stop-" I attempted to interject.

    "-But it had a scar- Hm?" She looked at me.

    "...What's a facial composite?"

    The blonde slumped in her chair, looking as weary as earlier, if not more so. "A police sketch. Point is, Jake's a fucking ghost — with Takao we at least have his social media; we can track him." Her eyes shifted to Amy. "Unless Jake was healed by you? Sometime between September and, well, yesterday? White, messy brown hair, no facial hair, most likely high and with a scar next to his left temple that's probably from a bullet grazing him? No?"

    "I…" Amy hugged her legs tighter. "I don't know. I don't… know." Quieter, she muttered: "I don't remember… people. There's so many, just like their injuries…" She glanced at me before looking away again. "Only the unique ones stay on my mind. And even then, it's more like recognition — I need to be reminded of who I was fixing at the time."

    A faint, sad, one-sided smile had appeared on Lisa's face. "Figured as much. It's alright, Ames, don't blame yourself."

    Amy shuddered but didn't answer.

    With her curled up like that by my side, it was only natural for me to put an arm around her shoulders, then squeeze a bit. "Want me to do the thing from earlier?" I offered, as several small streams of black sand coalesced into a thorn near the healer's knees, well within her field of view. It would be unfair of me not to at least give her the option to receive the same aid that she'd granted me twice now, after all.

    Amy, though, shook her head. "I'm fine," she whispered. "Don't bother."

    "...Are you sure?" She didn't seem so, but it was best to ask.

    "Yeah." She gently cupped the thorn in her palms after a moment, and brought it closer. "I'm fine." The display reminded me of us unpacking my and Lisa's costumes just over a week ago, where she was doing the same exact thing — it seemed to calm her quite a bit. I was now back in my front row seat to witness her cortisol levels dropping, giving way to more endorphins. If I squeezed again, I could even see more of them get released, albeit faintly.

    "Hey, uh, Taylor?" I heard Lisa call out. "What sort of 'thing'?"

    I cringed. "I- Well, at school…"

    "She almost puked her guts out when I mentioned-" Amy paused, having taken over the explanation due to my hesitance. She pointed at her head instead. "...You know."

    "Ah," was Lisa's answer. "And you..?"

    "Normalized her heart rate and breathing. Made her feel warmer for a bit as well."

    Emerald eyes met mine. "And how are you now?"

    "Hopefully better?" I tried half-humorously, a self-deprecating smile already fleeting.

    Her nod was barely visible, but I still caught it. "For what it's worth, you're not alone here. My reactions aren't as strong, but… they're still there."

    That only made me feel worse, if I was being honest.

    "You know, I can do what Amy said? To you, that is, if you want me to?" I asked our Thinker, who only yawned. "Or… I can put you to sleep, maybe?"

    Whatever answer Lisa wanted to give me promptly faded away when I said that, her eyes boring into my thorn with a tired intensity. She took another few moments to think, then slowly nodded yet again. "Yeah, that might help…" Another yawn. "Christ." With a shrug, our partner stood up. "Fuck it." She tiredly waved an arm at a note with a stylized droplet. "No info. We're done here."

    "Wonderful," Amy groaned, wiggling out from under my arm before flopping backwards. While Lisa was busy hiding her conspiracy boards from prying eyes again, I shifted too. My limbs have been killing me since last night…

    …I yawned again. Ugh.

    Deciding that if I was going to be yawning like this, I would do so in comfort, hence me nudging Amy. She didn't react, unless one counted the miniscule twitch of her lips. Alright… I stood up, grabbed her ankles and pushed, rolling her onto the bed properly as she squeaked. A half hearted elbow to my side followed me laying down next to her, but this was too nice and relaxing to let it bother me.

    "Hey, Ames?"

    From the corner of my eye I saw Amy open her eyes to meet Lisa's gaze, who was standing at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips.

    No words were uttered in response.

    "I'm gonna need more space," the blonde continued.

    The healer smirked in an unspoken challenge.

    "Tay," Lisa addressed me. "You don't want to be collateral, right? 'Cause I'm tempted to fall on you two out of spite."

    I arched an eyebrow. "Is this when I say 'no'?"

    "When else?"

    I shrugged. "No, then."

    "There you have it, Ames. Be a good little hero and scooch."

    With annoyed mumblings about the small size of my bed, Amy inched closer to me, still cradling her thorn as she did so.

    Lisa laid down, triumphant, then sighed. "Dear sweet bed, how I've missed you," she proclaimed. "...God, it feels like my mind is on fire." Oh.

    "Migraine again?" I asked.

    "Nope."

    "Liar," Amy stated.

    "Okay, maybe a little. Nothing like what I'm used to, though."

    "And if we didn't come early to interrupt you?" An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach, only made even stronger by Lisa's damning silence. "The world can wait a bit, Lise."

    "...Not really. The sword of Damocles is still right above us."

    Amy's head turned to the side of the bed with the Thinker five on it. "Shouldn't we be focusing on Coil?"

    "We are." I heard Lisa move. "Just because we have a target or two doesn't mean we should stop keeping tabs on everyone else — some of the new info can even help us somehow. Who knows." A pause. "I already tipped the PRT off about Bakuda, by the way. Would've done the same about Acrid and his gang, but, well, Tattletale wasn't… there."

    I couldn't see the healer's face at the moment, but I could just imagine that scrutiny-filled gaze of hers. "'Tattletale'," she pointed out. "Not Nebula… but Tattletale. Should I be worried?"

    "No more than usual." Lisa yawned. "Relax, Ames, 's just subterfuge. While they're already suspecting Nebula to be Tattletale — which they're right on the money, by the by — it's still better for me to at least try to steer them away from that train of thought. Plausible deniability is pretty useful in certain places." I wondered what she was referring to…

    Amy hummed. "Just don't do anything stupid."

    "I'm a Thinker."

    "You are?!"

    Through the connection my thorn had with Amy's body I could see the grinning biokinetic getting elbowed in real time. "Smartass."

    "Kettle-pot."

    "I, unlike you, bear that title with pride," Lisa almost purred. "But yeah, Coil's still our main target. Acrid, the secondary one."

    Amy squirmed a bit in her spot. "Still no luck with the snake cunt? 'Cause I assume you would've told me otherwise."

    I was about to speak up but the blonde beat me to it. "Everything so far has been a bust, yes. We knocked the top two off the list of places that both met the criteria and were mildly close to us — would've been three if we hadn't gotten derailed last night, but whatever — meaning we might have to go a bit further out after a few more attempts to try the 'global' list instead. I'm feeling lucky about the next two spots, though…" She trailed off.

    "Why?" I asked.

    Lisa gave a noncommittal noise that resembled an 'eh'. "It's just that they're both close to the potential territory of the Dealers. With the curfew being set, I think it's the perfect time to scout it out — less interruptions that way." Lisa hummed again. "Heck, we can also check the place we failed to re-"

    "Not tonight," Amy stated. "You two look like shit."

    I winced at her blunt delivery, but it was an apt descriptor; I sure felt like it. Lisa… was probably worse, so I agreed with our healer's wisdom. We had to take everything on at peak strength if we had the option to, which we did here — I wouldn't risk ourselves passing out on a goddamn roof, or somewhere else just as silly.

    Amy went back to staring at the half-lit ceiling with a blank expression. "Something about this just reminds me of you talking about the arms race a week ago. You got that clue, and then… boom. Can't help but expect things going the same way here."

    "What, that the place we'll check will explode too?"

    "No?" Then, quieter: "Sure fucking hope not…"

    "...Yeah."

    I turned to lay on my side. "What if the Empire was in an arms race not with the ABB, but with the Dealers?" As much as it grated that the gang had more information-gathering skills than our little group, it made perfect sense — there were only three of us, after all, with one partially busy. Their membership, meanwhile, was likely in the quadruple digits.

    Amy shrugged.

    "Seems more likely by the day…" Lisa commented idly. "I need more data, though. Did I mention how annoying it is to work without proper info? So annoying."

    "Once or twice," the biokinetic snarked. "Oh, and by 'proper' do you mean 'illegally-sourced and delivered via a henchman'? 'Cause unlike with your previous gig, we may have a shortage of those." She then looked at me with a thoughtful gaze. "Unless…"

    I raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure that henchmen are specifically non-parahumans; I don't qualify."

    Amy glared at me, sans the venom. "Leave it to Wordsworth here to suck out all the fun. Spoilsport."

    "Heathen." I tutted. "One day you'll find a poem written specifically for you, so you'll be forced to like it."

    Lisa snorted. "She'd do it, too." Her grin split her face. "It'll be Taylor-made." …She then burst into giggles. Seriously?

    Amy and I exchanged a pair of mildly amused glances. The cackles continued as I asked aloud: "Did the delirium claim her already?"

    "Yup," Amy drawled. "Rest in peace." She poked Lisa twice. "Hey, Taylor, did you know that she's ticklish?"

    "You're playing a dangerous g- Ah!" The blonde yelped. "Y-you bitch! You're ticklish too, s-so I demand a ceasefire!"

    Amy continued her prodding. "Nah."

    Lisa attempted to retaliate amidst the assault, aiming at Amy's ribs, but slumped after a pause. Did our healer- "Not fair!" …She did. "Taylor, h-help!" Lisa cried. "The medical cactus put my limbs to sleep!"

    "I'll give you 'medical cactus'!" Said the restorative plant, beginning her attack in earnest despite Lisa's protests.

    I chuckled as I rose up as well, observing their tangle with a growing smile.

    Through the now-floating thorn I did the same thing to Amy that she'd done to Lisa: I paralyzed her. Of course, I still made sure that Amy didn't hurt herself or Lisa with her fall on the latter, timing her loss of control.

    "Taylor!" Amy gasped, muffled by Lisa's shoulder. "Really?!"

    "Hah! She's on my side!"

    I didn't deign to answer.

    "...You are on my side, right? Tay?"

    I smirked.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • And thus, we are blessed with another fluffy chapter.
    Thank you for posting this, it was a pleasure to read!
     
    This story has a lot of potential. Unfortunately it seems to have gone from 2-3 posts per week to a post every month or two. That's... not a great sign that it'll ever get finished, or even reach that potential.
     
    MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot said:
    This story has a lot of potential. Unfortunately it seems to have gone from 2-3 posts per week to a post every month or two. That's... not a great sign that it'll ever get finished, or even reach that potential.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Do note that the early chapters are shorter on average than the later ones, and were fueled by early-story excitement. Also, it was my first ever foray into writing, hence the mediocre quality. (there was an enormous amount of edits that had to be done to each of them, according to my betas, unlike with the updates nowadays - and this encompasses both SPaG and plot beats)

    The delay of 3.7 was caused by several factors dogpiling me out of nowhere - Hurricane Ian*, personal health and some other irl issues. That last bit still persists even now, but should hopefully be alleviated within a month or three.

    I don't have any plans on dropping this - in fact, I don't start any other stories despite having spawned quite a few plot bunnies already because I know that I'd burn out on both the new story and Realignment if I try to split my attention - but do try to be patient. I'd rather not release my work half-finished.

    The pace that I'm trying to keep right now is releasing at least one update per month, but aiming at two. Keep in mind, however, that certain updates might take a bit longer due to containing pixel art illustrations - 3.9 and 3.10 included. (an early Arc 4 chapter will have one as well, but that one's already done and is one of the stickers on the Gaylor Discord server)

    Oh, also 3.9 and 3.10 will likely take longer than usual because 3.9 starts in media res, and thus the first scene will have to be derived from the middle of 3.10.


    * - that's why, for example, our neighbor's roof managed to end up in our pool. Yeah... Hopefully Nicole won't hit us as badly? (nervous chuckles can be heard in the distance)
     
    Shadelight said:
    I'd rather not release my work half-finished.
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    And I applaud that! I've liked what I've read so far. Midway through arc 2 now.

    Shadelight said:
    Hopefully Nicole won't hit us as badly?
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    Click to shrink...

    I'm up in Boston and I'm hoping Nicole doesn't hit us here! It's weird to look out for "tropical" storms and hurricanes in the northeast, but that's where we are these days. I drove home from taking the patent bar through hurricane Sandy in 2012 with huge branches flying across the highway. Climate change sucks!

    Shadelight said:
    Also, what was it with Taylor and maiming hands? That's two for two, now.
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    Two for... six? Seven? It's not like she's HANDled everyone she's come up against so far.
     
    Last edited:
    I just figured out what's so weird about this story, the thing that makes it harder to read than it needs to be. I'm putting this in a separate post because I really want the author to read it, and I'm not sure editing old posts does that. Here's the issue:

    The story is in first person, and the POV changes every chapter! I know each chapter says whose POV it is at the top. But that doesn't help! Maybe it's fine reading one chapter every month, but reading them in a row it's a confused mess. I'm in Taylor's head, she's doing Taylor things and solving Taylor problems. Then five seconds later I'm in Lisa's head looking AT Taylor doing Taylor things and it's FREAKIN' WEIRD! It's not just the actions that's the problem. It's the internal thoughts and responses that's the problem. "Wait, that's not the way Taylor thinks! Oh... right... this is how Lisa thinks about Taylor's problems, so that makes sense."

    If it were not first person at all, or at least not first person for chapters not from Taylor's (or choose main protag of choice) head, that would be fine, because one can tell the difference and there's a bit of a remove, but jumping from one first-person POV to the next every few thousand words just doesn't work. Each character thinks of themselves as "I", but a reader needs to parse who "I" is differently each chapter. Time after time after time it's gotten in the way of the story rather than enhanced it. It's taken me out of the head of the character of the moment to the point that I have to skip to the top of whatever chapter I'm reading to double-check whose perspective I'm in, and anything that takes me out of the story is bad, ruining immersion.

    I don't mind first person POV. I actually like it. But for it to work, you have to pick someone and write from their POV throughout the story. If you want multiple POV characters, doing all of them from inside their heads just doesn't work. I like your writing, and the story is fine up to where I am (2.8), but I'm not sure I'm going to keep reading because you're making it very difficult despite (or maybe because of) the writing quality.
     
    New Haunt, Old Grudges (Part 1) - Canon Omake by lemonancy
  • Index
    • Reposting from SB!

    This will be at least a two-parter! Now, let's look at how Sophia's been handling her recent change in hat color.

    New Haunt, Old Grudges​

    Ass A.M., April 21

    Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

    With the charges armed, I pressed the button to activate the five second timer.

    BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBOOOM!

    Five simultaneous explosions liquified the doors to the holding cells, and a poor little wall who did nothing wrong except get in the way of the villain team I was breaking out of jail.

    There was a small part of me that knew that I should be angry at myself for sinking so far, for being a villain now. But there was a far larger, far smarter part of me that knew the truth. Hero, villain? Nothing but words. Bullshit labels that prey uses to sort themselves. No, the only labels that matter are predator, prey, and prize.

    Like, take the shithole that is Winslow. Sophia Hess, the predator. Taylor Hebert, the prey. And poor little Emma Barnes, no matter how hard she tried to be a predator? Just a prize.

    The first one to step out of the cells was Circus. She practically danced out of her cell, and did that nod that I see guys do to each other all the time. You know the one, the one that looks like an upward twitch followed by a slow downward descent. Just after, Regent and Hellhound stepped out from the opposite side of the hallway. Hellhound lacked any sort of mask, like Coil said she probably would, but Regent was wearing the PRT-issue black domino mask.

    Hellhound growled at me, which was about what I expected. Regent, though, just looked right past me and asked, "So what now, fearless leader?"

    I spun around. From the same side of the hallway that Circus emerged was him. Grue. I shoved down the rage that filled me, but I wasn't able to do so silently; a heavy sigh had escaped me without my permission. It's not that I didn't know he was here, obviously I did. But knowing that you were contracted to bust your sworn enemy out of jail doesn't actually prepare you for the reality of seeing him standing there, glancing around like an asshole.

    He, in return, gave me the side-eye. "Didn't expect the boss to send you to be our rescuer." Without the fog hollowing his voice, it was rich and deep, but not as deep as I expected. More Nat King Cole than James Earl Jones.

    What? I'm cultured. Shut the fuck up.

    "Shit, I'm so sorry. I'll head back to the snake, let him know you don't want the rescue, and we'll send someone else. Back to your cells, then."

    "Now hold on, Grue," Regent smarmed at us. "I say we let the lady get us out of here, and then we bitch at her."

    "What about me?" Hellhound grunted. Right, she called herself Bitch. Honestly, come to think of it, that was a much better name. Upside of not being on the kiddie cops' side is that I got to call her Bitch, I supposed.

    "Not you, Rachel," Grue responded. "He meant complain at her, yell at her."

    "I'm not fuckin' stupid, Grue. Even I can make jokes."

    "If it helps, Miss Lindt, I thought it was quite good." Holy hell the clown's voice doesn't match the makeup, the costume… Come to think of it, that voice is way deeper than the voice she put on for the Boardwalk fight-- no, not the time. Shoot the shit later, break assholes out of jail now. I pointed toward the no-longer-a-wall.

    "That way, now. Gotta make it through some PRT squaddies and any Wards on site, then we're home free. Move!"

    The fog began to flow around Grue as he turned to me. "Do not give orders to my team, Stalker. You'll live longer."

    Whatever. The plan Coil laid out called for me to take the lead on this part. The gift shop had display cases scattered throughout the room, which made for excellent cover to fire from. No crossbow, but I had the arm-mounted bolt-shooter which worked just as well. Phase, fire a bolt through the case, it turns solid as it exits and spears into a guy. Rinse and repeat. Easy pickings.

    With the six squaddies on the floor, I waved to the doorway where the four deadweights lurked. I could hear boots tramping down the hall, and the whine of Kid Win's hoverboard. I loosed two bolts, both of which ding!-ed off of Clockblocker's armor. Dennis started to shout something that was going to be stupid as all hell, but he tripped after he'd gotten out "Stop ri-" and crashed into the ground. Chris stopped to check on him, so I turned away as Grue flooded that hallway with smoke.

    Circus was fighting Battery and didn't look to be having the best time. I fired another shot to help, and the clown pulled a knife out of nowhere and hit my shot down another hall, where it hit- fuck, they brought the shortstack to a real fight? Well, with Vista, who was the only real threat, now incapacitated, Circus whacked Battery with the hammer they carry everywhere, and Sam seemed down for the count.

    "What are you waiting for!" I screamed at Grue. "You gonna smoke the place or what?!" He nodded and did so, and in seconds the room was covered with streams of thick, black smoke, obscuring the cameras and entrances to the room. With freedom in sight, we shattered a window and made our way outside.

    Say what you will about the Undersiders, but these fuckers could run. Not like me, obviously, but Grue had some serious hustle, and Bitch and Regent were doing a decent job not being deadweight with a decent running pace.

    Circus, though…

    "Go on without me!" the clown huffed. When we responded by picking up the pace away from them, a raised voice saying "That was a joke!" stopped us.

    Luckily, the empty parking garage that served as the rendezvous point was just up ahead, so when we dragged Circus's fruity ass inside it only took us a minute longer than we would've managed without them.

    A black SUV was waiting for us inside, and a man with a laser rifle opened the car door and ushered us to get in. Not seeing any real options, we obeyed.

    "Undersiders," said a voice from the front seat. "And Circus. How was your stay at the finest hotel in Brockton?"

    "If that's the best this city has to offer," Regent joked, "I might be headed back out."

    "Funny," replied the voice. Coil. "I hesitate to suggest it, but I thought Montreal might be worse for you." Well that shut Regent up fast. "Creep, begin driving toward Captain's Hill for now. I'll direct you to one of Miss Lindt's shelters when I'm sure we've lost the tail.

    "Circus, while you did not achieve your intended goal, you more than earned your keep in combat against the Dallon sisters. Check your account with this-" he handed the clown a mobile phone, "-and keep the phone as well. Hazard pay plus compensation for lost work hours. Your next contract will be delivered shortly."

    Then, he turned back to us. "And my Undersiders. I hope your time with the PRT has educated you as to the necessity of staying away from dragons and their ilk."

    Silence reigned for a moment, but was broken when Regent slumped in his seat. "Honestly, I thought Stalker was speaking in metaphor when she referred to our boss as a snake."

    "Me too," Grue agreed.

    Bitch snorted. "And people think I'm the stupid one around here."

    "Not to interrupt the love-fest, but I think I'm done here," Circus butt in. "Boss, can I head out?"

    "Creep, pull over two blocks from now. Yes, Mr. Circus, you can leave as soon as the car is stopped."

    Hold up. "Wait, Mister?" I spat, glaring at Circus.

    "Yeah, kinda," Circus replied, grinning.

    "So you're not a girl, then," Grue replied.

    "Well I wouldn't say that."

    …"Whatever, not my problem," I muttered, turning to glare at Grue instead. He met my eyes for a brief moment, then looked away.

    "Babe, 'problem' is the closest you've managed so far. Toodles!~" The car hadn't yet stopped, but the slower speed allowed the clown to throw open the car door and leap out of the vehicle, doing a somersault and standing up in that pose that gymnasts do when they're finished with their act, before sprinting off down an alleyway.

    Coil took a deep breath in, and let it out quickly. "Creep, take a left up ahead. Undersiders, I would like to perform a demonstration." He produced a coin from a cupholder. He hesitated just a moment before flipping the coin at me. After catching it, I looked at it, but said nothing.

    "Well?" he asked.

    "It's heads," I replied.

    He nodded, then flipped a coin in Grue's direction. "Also heads," came his answer.

    "Heads," after Bitch caught the coin.

    "Four for four," said Alec.

    "It's times such as these where I miss my Tattletale." Coil's voice was like slime, filling every inch of the space between until it worked its way into your ears, your mouth, your nose, and filled you with disgust. "She always managed to make things so much more dramatic. Shame, that, but we all work with what we have.

    "I'm sure you all have questions about what you've just seen. But before I answer them, a warning. I decide outcomes, control destinies. My Undersiders, rest assured that this was merely a small demonstration of my power. Recall on your jobs, the orders to stand down for five minutes? During those periods, I exercised my power to narrow down the range of possible outcomes to ones in which you were successful." He paused. "It would be trivial for me to do the opposite, and I would implore you to consider this before trying anything rash. Now, to questions. Yes, Grue?"

    "Stalker and I have… history. As you know, I can be professional when required-"

    I interrupted. "Yeah, yeah, I'll play nice if you do, Mister Professional."

    "This is exactly the kind of behavior I expected from you. Not even ten minutes into a meeting and you're mouthing off to me in front of our boss!" Regent reached a hand to touch Grue's shoulder, and while he didn't shake it off immediately, it was met with a sharp intake of breath. "Sir, I have serious concerns about working with her. She tried to kill me not six months ago, and I don't even know why, though I suspect it's because she takes losing fights personally. Is Shadow Stalker part of my team, or will she be functioning externally?"

    "Shadow Stalker will be an official member of the Undersiders under your command, yes. I expect you to be able to manage her… difficulties, with all the grace that you managed those of your former colleague." I scowled at Coil's answer and went to interrupt, but he continued before I could. "Despite the loss of my Tattletale, the timeline of my plans has accelerated as of late. I am entering my endgame for Brockton Bay, and the Undersiders will play a critical role. For the moment, that role is to remain quiet. I will contact you when you are needed. Further questions?"

    "My dogs," Bitch grunted. "Have they been fed since I went in?"

    "Indeed they were. One of my soldiers paid a visit to your Page Street shelter, after one of my police moles reported excessive howling coming from the location. Further, one of your hounds, a Rottweiler of some sort, was found outside."

    "Brutus."

    "As you say, Miss Lindt. Anything else?"

    Silence.

    "Then speaking of your Page Street shelter, we've arrived. I would advise that you return to your respective abodes as quietly as you can manage." The car pulled to the side of the road, and the mercenary driving the car exited and opened the door, ushering us out.

    As the armored SUV sped away, Regent deadpanned, "Well that was a pleasant meeting."

    "I have an apartment two blocks from here," Grue started. "Rachel, will you be staying at your shelter for the night?"

    "Yup."

    "Okay. Stay safe. Meeting tomorrow afternoon at the loft. Don't be late." Bitch grunted. I was learning that that seemed to be what I should expect of Bitch. Lots of grunting. I grunted back, and she looked at me oddly. I only shrugged before we left.

    Grue's apartment was bare. The only room that had any decorations at all was his bedroom, and all it had was a dresser and a bed.

    He handed Regent a pair of jeans that he was very soon swimming in, along with an oversized hoodie. Regent started snickering, so I gave him a glare I hoped would shut him up. It didn't work. "Hey, Bri, normally you're supposed to kiss me before I get in your pants."

    I intensified my glare, and he only cackled harder. So, I rolled up my sleeve to show off my new Tinker toy, flexing my tendons to extend the blades along my forearm. Finally, he seemed to get the message, and shut up.

    "You have civvies, Stalker?" Grue asked. He stood just outside the closet, having changed from the PRT-issued villain sweats into dark-washed jeans, a t-shirt, and motorcycle leathers. The finishing touch was removing the black domino mask and- oh.

    God damn it. Of course he's hot. I mean, I could have looked before, it's not like the shitty masks really do anything to hide most of our features, but we were a little busy, you know? Running from the cops, talking with the snake, getting inside. Thick cornrows lined the top of his head. His jaw was hard lines and sharp angles, strong cheekbones. Eyes like molten caramel, and prominent. Stubble, the kind that screamed "I haven't been able to shave recently" and just so happened to send my thoughts tumbling into the gutter. Couldn't really help but wonder what that might feel like-

    "Uh, Stalker? I asked you something."

    I blinked. Regent was off to the side, giggling again. Grue stared down at me- he had to be at least 6'4, probably 6'5, and- no. I had to focus. Game face now, ogle the asshole later. "Thinking about something. What was the question?"

    "You have civvies?"

    "Yeah. Underneath." I stripped off the cloak, armor plating and my tinkertech prosthetic, shoving everything in a nearby duffel bag. Plain black clothes, unremarkable. I flipped up the mask and stuffed it in the bag too. "Haven't been able to get back to my old place yet for much, but soon."

    Grue inhaled deeply. "So, we're going to be working together, Stalker. Specifically, you're now a part of the Undersiders. My crew. We do things a certain way around here, and part of that is names." He stuck out his hand. "Laborn. Brian Laborn."

    I took it, and shook. "Sophia Hess."

    Brian nodded. "Not gonna bullshit about how it's nice to work with you. It isn't. But if you follow orders and only argue when it isn't important, you'll fit right in."

    "The 'only argue when it isn't important' rule is where I come in," said Regent. "Alec, no last name needed or wanted. Personally, I think we'll get along fine."

    Whatever, I thought. "Whatever," I repeated aloud because it sounded good. "Just here for the paycheck and the hunting." And shelter, after getting outed by that no-name bitch in her fucking glasses.

    Brian nodded again, seemingly satisfied, though he was still emanating a low-grade fury. I could hardly imagine why. I mean, I figured you shoot someone once and break him out of jail once you're even, but if this dude still wanted to hold a grudge? I'd hold it right along with him.

    Eventually, he spoke. "All right. Buses aren't running this late, and we're on the opposite side of the city from the loft. Gonna be a bit of a hike." Regent- Alec- raised his hand. "No, Alec, we're not going to steal a car." Alec put his hand down.



    Late morning, April 21

    The room I slept in that night was marked with a purple Egyptian eye on the door. Tattletale's symbol, that she plastered across her tits in costume. "Lisa" was apparently "a major asshole", "always had to be the smartest bitch in the room", and "exactly the kind of person who would ditch us when Lung showed up". For such harsh words, Alec didn't really seem to be all that pissed about it, but he didn't have predator instincts as far as I could tell. Shame.

    I'd have to either beat them into him or let him go his own way.

    Brian was an early riser, like me, but he spent his morning doing boring shit. At least he brought coffee back to the disused-factory-turned-apartment that served as the Undersiders' lair. Our lair. The warehouse below was mostly disused, though there were clear signs that Bitch had used it as a dog shelter at some point. I spent the morning doing much more important things, like practicing my aim with my shiny new toy in the empty space. There was a punching bag and some wrestling mats set up off to one corner, and enough empty and broken bottles that a shooting setup was easy.

    I used to hold my crossbow with my right hand, steadying it with my left. Now with the bolt shooter as a part of my left arm, my aim had to be adjusted to compensate. I was getting better, almost back to where I was, but I could tell it was going to take some time until I could be sniping some lowlife in the back from a block and a half away like I used to manage.

    Downsides and upsides. Upside is that it looked sick as fuck. New bolt shooter was a real predator's weapon, and I was going to put down so many Nazis with it.

    As I nailed two bottles to the wall from twenty yards out, I heard a low whistle from the stairs. Alec. I turned away and shot the remaining three bottles, but these ones were glass so instead of pinning them to the wall, they just shattered. "Very nice," the curly-haired boy said. "You a lefty? Well," a snicker, "I suppose you aren't now, but were you a lefty?"

    I glared. "No," I said. "Always used to hold the crossbow in my right hand, but this is too convenient not to use." I spun around, shot a bolt into the wall, then spun back in his direction, activating the blades as I faced him. "It's got slashing weapons too."

    "Huh," Alec said. "Neat trick. I thought I felt as much last night, but you activate those by flexing your fingers- well, hah, I suppose you don't have those, do you?" I growled, but he continued, undaunted. "But it's the same motion you'd use to flex your fingers, now you use it to fire and get your claws out. Yeah, I like that."

    Okay, first, they're blades that come out of the forearm and extend sideways, not claws that come out of the hand. Claws would get in the way of the bolt shooter, throw off my aim, when the blades as-is are good for slashing when people get in too close. Here I thought I might finally get to hang with people who actually gave a shit about their weapons, but I guess I expected too damn much.

    Second, "How the fuck did you figure that out?" I spat.

    "Nerves." He chuckled. "Thought that the PRT would've figured out at least that much by now. Though you don't seem the type to pay attention at briefings…" I gave him my best I-will-murder-you eyes, and he snorted. "Anyway, I wanna show you something cool. Point the barrel at a wall?" I did so, and then my arm seized up. Like someone was moving my fingers on the hand that I no longer had, and in just the right way that the bolt fired without me wanting it to. And the blades had retracted afterwards, too.

    Oh fuck me, I wasn't expecting to have to deal with my own weapons working against me. Though honestly, that was about par for the course for my luck recently.

    "The hell was that for?" I growled, scowling again.

    "Just a warning, new best friend Sophia. Actually, can I call you Soph?"

    "Absolutely not."

    "Excellent. Great work, new best friend Soph. Now you're aware that your toy is also my toy!" The fucker chuckled. He god damn chuckled, again! If he had a cat he'd be the most textbook supervillain I've ever met. "Bitch is on the way, so the meeting's in ten instead of three hours." Oh, right, cats wouldn't go well with all of Bitch's dogs.

    And then he just walked back upstairs like he didn't just put himself on my shit list. Maybe it was better that way.

    I took a deep breath. Whatever, whatever, whatever. This is fine! Totally fine. Sophia Hess, Shadow Stalker, Hunter, Predator, Survivor. The strong adapted to changes in circumstances. The weak ran and hid.

    Take a hunter away from her pack and she makes a new pack.

    Grue- Brian- ran the Undersiders, for now. Maybe he'd even keep the leadership. I mean, he was definitely the one more interested in wrangling Bitch to sit the fuck down and listen for a god damn minute, which sounded like a chore. It would be nice, though, to have a group to properly watch my back, or at least keep up with me.

    And hopefully they could keep up with me. They were fast, which they'd proven last night, and if Bitch's reputation and history was anything to go by, the Undersiders hit hard when they wanted to. As stick-thin as Regent looked, he had guts too, and I'm sure that tripping thing the PRT briefings covered would come in handy when we had to make a quick escape. Grue- well.

    Grue was a smug dickhead who couldn't even earn a real victory off me. His power totally blanked mine. It wasn't even just that I couldn't see which made it bullshit. If it was just that, I'd have smoked him every time we met. But no, while I was in his smoke I felt sluggish, like someone had fitted me with weights on every limb. Couldn't move like I'm used to, couldn't run, couldn't aim my crossbows, couldn't even throw a punch right.

    And that wasn't even the worst part! My shadowform was all wrong, too. Ordinarily I'm weightless and intangible when I have it on, which makes leaping rooftops really easy. While I was in Grue's smoke, though, I was still weightless but couldn't phase through anything. Considering half of my book of tactics involved being able to ignore any wall in my way…

    The punches and kicks didn't hurt all that much, since they mostly impacted my armor. Turns out, though, that punching a solid object that doesn't have any weight sends it flying at high speed. I thought that going solid again would help me out, but it only made the impact with the wall hurt all the more.

    I really, really, hated losing. So basically, fuck Grue.

    What sucked is that underneath Grue's helmet, Brian was a total beefcake.

    I heard a door open in the warehouse. Not the one that leads to the loft staircase, the other one, that leads outside. It was Bitch, with two dogs in tow. I nodded her way and said, "'Sup." She just gave me the side-eye, so I shrugged and headed toward the staircase. "Nice dogs. Meeting's soon, so I'm headed up." Obviously, she grunted back instead of saying anything.

    Not my fucking problem if she doesn't want to talk.

    Alec's playing some video game. Looks like some kinda spaceship thing, with zombies inside. Pretty decent looking, honestly, as far as video games went. I never really saw the point in them, you know? I mean, I guess you get some adrenaline from doing stuff in the game if you got really into it, but why would you sit on the couch when you could be running outside, feeling the wind at your back, jumping between rooftops, checking your weapons to make sure they won't jam, the anticipation budding as you hunt for something to do, something to fight, someone deserving of punishment.

    What video game can compare to the thrill of the hunt?

    "Soph, you're looking at my video game like it pissed in your coffee. You okay?"

    "Fuck you, dude, I just look like that."

    "Hah! That's a good one. The meeting doesn't start for another five minutes so let me enjoy my game in peace? Thanks, Soph."

    "I'm gonna punch you, asshole."

    "Sophia, don't punch Alec," Brian called from inside his own room.

    I did it anyway.

    "She did it anyway!" Alec yelled.

    "Did you deserve it?" Now he was in the doorway, wearing a tight-fitting tank top and oh my GOD the way his arms looked. They were nearly as thick around as my neck and it was not even remotely fair. I had to look at those things and pretend I wasn't affected.

    "He did," I answered, instead of saying anything stupid about Brian's arms. I barely managed to maintain eye contact.

    "Yeah? What for?" he asked.

    "He called me Soph. He doesn't get to call me that," I growled.

    A long-suffering sigh followed. "Alec," Brian said. "Don't call her that."

    "Sir yes sir, fearless leader," he snarked.

    Another sigh. "Sophia. Get used to him. Alec needs to get under people's skin like we need to eat, and he's been cooped up alone in a jail cell for a while. He needs to annoy someone."

    I rolled my eyes. "Is Bitch going to come upstairs or what?"

    Brian turned to Alec, who ignored him for thirty seconds before breaking. "Fine, I'll go get her."

    * * *​

    "The first order of business," Brian began, "is to talk about what we're going to be doing until Coil calls us back into the fold."

    "How about nothing?" Alec piped up.

    "No," Brian and I deadpanned, scowling at each other when we realized we'd spoken at the same time. After a few seconds, he schooled himself, raising his eyebrows and gesturing for me to continue. "I gotta hunt. My crossbows were with the PRT, but I've got that now," indicating my prosthetic, charging on the coffee table, "and I'm taking it for a test run. Since I'm not with the kiddie cops anymore, I'm gonna pay some Empire goons a visit."

    Brian winced. "I'll get back to that, Sophia. Rachel?"

    She scratched her dog behind the ears for a bit. "Hookwolf's got a dogfight coming up this week. Gonna bust it up."

    "I'll come," I spoke.

    She whirled on me. "You'll what now?"

    "I'm coming with," I reiterated, annoyed. "Hookwolf's had it too good for too long, and he'll have guys. We'll kill two birds with one stone."

    "Don't be so mean to birds. What did they ever do to you?" said exactly the person you'd expect.

    "I will track down everyone you care about and crucify them, Alec. Then I'll strap you down onto a table and make you watch the videos like in Clockwork Orange, unless you shut up like a good little boy." Alec whistled, which was whatever, but Rachel gave me an appraising look.

    "Fine," she spoke up. "You can come."

    "Ah- about that," our nominal leader interrupted. Now what? "I"m not going to stop you, mostly because I don't think I could. But I do need to lay some ground rules.

    "Number one: don't kill anyone."

    "Fucking really? They're Nazis!" I shouted. I was a villain in the PRT's eyes now anyway! Might as well clean the city up properly, for once — one skinhead at a time…

    "Please, Sophia — I promise it's important. Personally, I don't give a flying fuck if you kill Nazis. I hate them too, and before you decided you wanted to kill me for stealing from gangs, or beating you in a fight, or whatever the hell it was, I was a fan of the work you did on that front." Huh. "Nazis and rapists are the scum of the earth, and I'm glad there's fewer on the streets. But you know who does care if you kill Nazis? The PRT! Like it or not, you're with us now, and if the Undersiders are killers… Well, I don't think we'll be able to handle it if they start treating us like they treat the Empire or the ABB.

    "Number two: make Hookwolf look like an idiot. I'm sure he'll do most of that work himself."

    Rachel snorted, and I barked out a laugh. The metal furry wasn't exactly known for his… how had Dennis phrased it? His scintillating intellect? Something like that, anyway.

    "Number three: don't do anything that would piss off our boss. Sophia, you weren't here, so you might not know, but Lisa was… she didn't feel comfortable around the boss, despite being the one who talked to him for us. Considering that she's a Thinker, there was probably a reason for that, and one I'd rather not find out anytime soon. He told us to keep it quiet, so we'll keep quiet — and this includes you." He paused. "Now, Rachel hitting Hookwolf's dogfighting rings is enough of a usual thing that I think it'll probably count as keeping quiet. Crucifying racists, though… Not so much."

    I rolled my eyes. "Fine. I'll keep the murder to a minimum. Just for you, Mister Professional." He sighed.

    My mom always used to say that loving your job but hating your boss is an American tradition, and damn if I wasn't following that tradition in hating both of my bosses, horror movie biker extra and the snake alike. Add in with those the world's craziest dog lady and the ren faire reject and somehow you ended up with a group that was, shockingly, more on the same page than the Wards.

    As strange as it seemed from the outside, I was going to enjoy this new squad.
     
  • Index
    • MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot said:
    The story is in first person, and the POV changes every chapter! I know each chapter says whose POV it is at the top. But that doesn't help!
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Skill issue. I have my own critique of the prose, but if you can't be asked to remember who the chapter head stated to be the PoV, try scrolling up.
     
    Once more, do not necro. This is against Rule 7.
    This Dead?
     
    Silvis said:
    This Dead?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Temporarily, yes. I've been experiencing worsening health issues as of a few months ago, which forced me to enter a hiatus state of sorts.

    The plan thus far is for me to wait until things level out somewhat - as I can't really focus well if I have to constantly deal with things such as nausea or breathing difficulties - and then resume updating In Weave and Woe. Once the first arc of it, consisting of 5 chapters according to my notes, gets finished, I'll then return to Realignment. (though I'll need to rewrite some of the earlier parts of the latter as their current quality is, imo, a bit lacking)
     
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