A/N: Hey-o! I decided that I'd use this thread to post various one-offs rather than get people's...
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South's Bag of Snips [Various, probably-mainly Worm Ideas]
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The Nine Are Dead; Long Live the Nine
SouthernWind
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A/N: Hey-o! I decided that I'd use this thread to post various one-offs rather than get people's hopes up for new stories. If anyone wants me to make one of these Snips into a full-blown story, when I have less on my plate, I may actually do it!
Anyways, enjoy my first snip below. A note: some snips may have cursing, but for obvious reasons, none will delve into NSFW territory.
The Nine were dead. Finally, finally dead. Ironic that it was now the year 2009, precisely nine years after the Nine came to be. They had destroyed most of the city of Miami. Millions had died.
The Nine were feared throughout the nation after that first attack. Their leader, who called himself 'Mr. Knives,' had a strong blade projection ability. Mr. Knives and his Nine would go city to city, often leaving hundreds of thousands to millions dead during their attacks.
The Nine took hostages, as well. They'd often steal children or young teens, sometimes even adults. If one of the Nine died, they would kill eight hostages in vengeance. Two meant seven died. Anytime the hostages didn't die, they triggered, and the Nine announced them as their newest member(s).
The Nine's roster, as of their deaths, were formed up by the dangerous and psychopathic 'Mr. Knives' - identified as a Jacob Sterling, Boomstick (a tinker specializing in either explosives or wide-area effect technology) - who remained unidentified, Kitten (a Case 53 who appeared to be a kitten, and was able to make people perceive them as non-threatening), and Glassbreaker (a silicakinetic who controlled all silicate materials within a city-wide range, from glass to sand to others).
This continued with Loki (a Trump-Master who created photorealistic/psychosomatic illusions/'copies' of capes, complete with their memories, personalities and powers; these copies could cause genuine damage to the environment and other people, despite being able to be walked through and intangible as if they were, indeed, illusions), and Stinger (a Striker-Master who could 'sting' people, instantly making them mindless thralls who would obey both verbal and mental commands, or attune to Stinger's subconscious desires).
The Weatherman (a Shaker-Breaker who, in the Breaker state, turned into a cloud that could slowly expand his range and control more and more clouds/aspects of the weather; a peak limit could allow him to create a city-sized storm), Overkill (a Striker who could imbue weapons with the ability to be instantaneously lethal, as well as explosive and those explosions generating poison-gas/minor 'aftershock' explosions within a few feet of their target), and Umbra (a Stranger-Mover who could merge with shadows/'become' people's shadows to follow them, and could instantly transport/teleport between shadows) were perhaps the most dangerous members of the Nine during the roster under which they died.
But now, they were all dead. It came at a cost. A very, very high cost. At least, in Director Emily Calvert's opinion. Her husband, Thomas, often agreed with her on such matters. Too many had died - both civilian and cape - during the Nine's attack on Brockton Bay. At least the hostages were rescued.
Now, Director Calvert thought to herself, what do we even do with them?
It was a difficult question.
A young girl, the last hostage rescued from where the Nine were keeping them during their attack on the Bay, walked up to the PRT trooper.
"Name?" was the trooper's only question.
"I- I- I'm - my name is- Annie." the young girl squeaked out in reply. The trooper wrote it down, and nodded for her to get on the bus. The girl who called herself Annie threw something out - a hairclip of some sort? - the trooper barely noticed.
"Alright! Let's pack it up!" the trooper yelled out to the driver and other troopers.
"Excuse my language for a moment, Jenkins, but what the fuck do you mean Mr. Knives had tinkertech in his brain?" Director Calvert asked of the coroner, who was doing autopsies on the Nine's bodies.
"I'm saying, Director, that Mr. Knives had severe tinkertech interactions with his brain. In fact, all of the Nine aside from Weatherman had tinkertech inside them. They were tinkered with. I'm not entirely sure, I'll need to send the data to the Think Tank or to some tinkers, but I'm pretty sure that the Nine were... being controlled remotely." was the response from Jenkins.
"...I'm going to need to call the Chief Director. Christ, what a headache. Jenkins... find out where the transmissions were coming from to that tech." She barely heard him say "yes ma'am" as she hung up. Rubbing her eyes, Emily sighed.
What a fucking nightmare.
A young girl - no older than sixteen, and definitely young-looking for even sixteen; possibly closer to thirteen - was humming to herself. She'd told them her name was Annie, but she had many names for whenever she got 'rescued' - and just as many different appearances.
The girl was currently operating on her new subject, who she'd had Loki use one of his projections to get here. They were only solid if they were the ones touching things, after all. It was too bad the Nine were dead, they were useful - and oh so much fun!
The girl had made sure she wasn't followed as she'd gotten off the bus, and made sure she was safe and secure in this farmhouse outside of Brockton Bay. She finished her operation, and her Tinkering with her subject's brain. After a moment, the girl woke up her subject.
"W-wha...where...?" her subject began to question.
"Shh. Don't get too stressed out." She smiled. The girl continued when her subject looked at her: "Your name is Missy, right? Or do you prefer Vista?"
"Who- are you? Ho-how do you know that?" the girl's subject answered-asked instead. The girl glanced at Vista, for a moment.
"I know lots of things, Missy. Your new name is going to be... Warp. We're going to make a brand new family, you and I. My old one is dead, and my new one just died." the girl paused.
"Y-you- wh- Nine? W-hy me?" the newly-dubbed Warp questioned.
"I always wanted a sister. And yes, Missy, very good; the Nine were my family." the girl paused again.
"How rude - I didn't even introduce myself to my new sister, and the new leader of the Nine!" the girl giggled at her mistake, and almost laughed. Warp looked uncomfortable. The girl numbed Warp's emotions with her new tinker-control chip, helpfully disguised as a hairclip.
"My name is Riley. We're going to have so much fun." Riley introduced herself.
A/N: Hope all of this makes any amount of sense. Anyways, yeah, here ya go.
Anyways, enjoy my first snip below. A note: some snips may have cursing, but for obvious reasons, none will delve into NSFW territory.
The Nine were dead. Finally, finally dead. Ironic that it was now the year 2009, precisely nine years after the Nine came to be. They had destroyed most of the city of Miami. Millions had died.
The Nine were feared throughout the nation after that first attack. Their leader, who called himself 'Mr. Knives,' had a strong blade projection ability. Mr. Knives and his Nine would go city to city, often leaving hundreds of thousands to millions dead during their attacks.
The Nine took hostages, as well. They'd often steal children or young teens, sometimes even adults. If one of the Nine died, they would kill eight hostages in vengeance. Two meant seven died. Anytime the hostages didn't die, they triggered, and the Nine announced them as their newest member(s).
The Nine's roster, as of their deaths, were formed up by the dangerous and psychopathic 'Mr. Knives' - identified as a Jacob Sterling, Boomstick (a tinker specializing in either explosives or wide-area effect technology) - who remained unidentified, Kitten (a Case 53 who appeared to be a kitten, and was able to make people perceive them as non-threatening), and Glassbreaker (a silicakinetic who controlled all silicate materials within a city-wide range, from glass to sand to others).
This continued with Loki (a Trump-Master who created photorealistic/psychosomatic illusions/'copies' of capes, complete with their memories, personalities and powers; these copies could cause genuine damage to the environment and other people, despite being able to be walked through and intangible as if they were, indeed, illusions), and Stinger (a Striker-Master who could 'sting' people, instantly making them mindless thralls who would obey both verbal and mental commands, or attune to Stinger's subconscious desires).
The Weatherman (a Shaker-Breaker who, in the Breaker state, turned into a cloud that could slowly expand his range and control more and more clouds/aspects of the weather; a peak limit could allow him to create a city-sized storm), Overkill (a Striker who could imbue weapons with the ability to be instantaneously lethal, as well as explosive and those explosions generating poison-gas/minor 'aftershock' explosions within a few feet of their target), and Umbra (a Stranger-Mover who could merge with shadows/'become' people's shadows to follow them, and could instantly transport/teleport between shadows) were perhaps the most dangerous members of the Nine during the roster under which they died.
But now, they were all dead. It came at a cost. A very, very high cost. At least, in Director Emily Calvert's opinion. Her husband, Thomas, often agreed with her on such matters. Too many had died - both civilian and cape - during the Nine's attack on Brockton Bay. At least the hostages were rescued.
Now, Director Calvert thought to herself, what do we even do with them?
It was a difficult question.
A young girl, the last hostage rescued from where the Nine were keeping them during their attack on the Bay, walked up to the PRT trooper.
"Name?" was the trooper's only question.
"I- I- I'm - my name is- Annie." the young girl squeaked out in reply. The trooper wrote it down, and nodded for her to get on the bus. The girl who called herself Annie threw something out - a hairclip of some sort? - the trooper barely noticed.
"Alright! Let's pack it up!" the trooper yelled out to the driver and other troopers.
"Excuse my language for a moment, Jenkins, but what the fuck do you mean Mr. Knives had tinkertech in his brain?" Director Calvert asked of the coroner, who was doing autopsies on the Nine's bodies.
"I'm saying, Director, that Mr. Knives had severe tinkertech interactions with his brain. In fact, all of the Nine aside from Weatherman had tinkertech inside them. They were tinkered with. I'm not entirely sure, I'll need to send the data to the Think Tank or to some tinkers, but I'm pretty sure that the Nine were... being controlled remotely." was the response from Jenkins.
"...I'm going to need to call the Chief Director. Christ, what a headache. Jenkins... find out where the transmissions were coming from to that tech." She barely heard him say "yes ma'am" as she hung up. Rubbing her eyes, Emily sighed.
What a fucking nightmare.
A young girl - no older than sixteen, and definitely young-looking for even sixteen; possibly closer to thirteen - was humming to herself. She'd told them her name was Annie, but she had many names for whenever she got 'rescued' - and just as many different appearances.
The girl was currently operating on her new subject, who she'd had Loki use one of his projections to get here. They were only solid if they were the ones touching things, after all. It was too bad the Nine were dead, they were useful - and oh so much fun!
The girl had made sure she wasn't followed as she'd gotten off the bus, and made sure she was safe and secure in this farmhouse outside of Brockton Bay. She finished her operation, and her Tinkering with her subject's brain. After a moment, the girl woke up her subject.
"W-wha...where...?" her subject began to question.
"Shh. Don't get too stressed out." She smiled. The girl continued when her subject looked at her: "Your name is Missy, right? Or do you prefer Vista?"
"Who- are you? Ho-how do you know that?" the girl's subject answered-asked instead. The girl glanced at Vista, for a moment.
"I know lots of things, Missy. Your new name is going to be... Warp. We're going to make a brand new family, you and I. My old one is dead, and my new one just died." the girl paused.
"Y-you- wh- Nine? W-hy me?" the newly-dubbed Warp questioned.
"I always wanted a sister. And yes, Missy, very good; the Nine were my family." the girl paused again.
"How rude - I didn't even introduce myself to my new sister, and the new leader of the Nine!" the girl giggled at her mistake, and almost laughed. Warp looked uncomfortable. The girl numbed Warp's emotions with her new tinker-control chip, helpfully disguised as a hairclip.
"My name is Riley. We're going to have so much fun." Riley introduced herself.
A/N: Hope all of this makes any amount of sense. Anyways, yeah, here ya go.
[RAGE]
SouthernWind
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A/N: Another little Snip I decided to write, for fun. It's a part one of two, not sure when I'll write part two for this lil thing, but count on that happening at some point in the future.
The entity had never felt quite like this. Not in its entire existence. Currently, the entity known as Zion held a woman by the throat; its golden form's usually passive, almost-expressionless face twisted to match the emotion its simulated human mind felt: rage. Zion took note of the fedora blowing away in the wind, formerly upon the woman's head.
The woman first attracted Zion's attention because her Shard was strange. When the entity finally recognized the Shard, it began cycling through postcognitive Shards to determine who this woman was.
It hadn't taken long to determine that she and another, elder woman had killed the Counterpart, the Thinker. They had ruined the Cycle. If Zion had just been a few moments sooner, the Cycle might have been able to continue as planned... and this woman had taken the Counterpart and killed it. The entity... well, it held the woman by the throat.
[RAGE] was the broadcast to the woman's Shard.
[TERROR. PANIC. FEAR.] was the response.
[TERMINATION] Zion sent, about to squeeze the woman's throat and then use one of its Shards to transport itself to the dwelling of her Shard, to destroy it.
[DELAY. PANIC.] Zion paused at that response, the entity's projection loosening its grip ever-so-slightly. What was the Shard up to? The woman's face was etched into one of fear; the entity doubted she knew what was going on.
[Query] Zion sent, as calm as the entity could manage to bring itself to be. The entity wanted to know what this Shard wanted, why it was protecting this host.
[INFORMATION. EXPLANATION.]
The entity known as Zion paused. The information it had just received...
This woman and the elder one... they had formed a group, planning to kill the entity. Not only that, but they intended to do so by defiling, raping, ruining, breaking the Counterpart's corpse. Zion's simulated human mind had never felt the level of rage, hatred, grief, anger, depression... it hadn't felt this many emotions at once. Zion's simulated human mind was almost overloaded.
[QUERY.]
Zion began self-broadcasting, away from its projection, away from the simulated human mind it had. The entity was now very deep in thought. Deeper than it had thought it was capable of. The entity's projection, the scowl... softened for a moment. The woman looked hopeful. The entity came to a decision. And at that moment - on the Seventh day of the month the humans called January, in their year of 1998 - Zion spoke, for the first time in many years.
"Die."
The woman's throat was crushed with barely a flexing of the projection's false muscles. Her corpse was discarded. As the last connections to her Shard closed off from her death, as the Shard that assisted in the death to the Counterpart would soon no longer be able to receive broadcasts without Zion entering its dwelling, the entity sent one final broadcast.
[HOST TERMINATION. CONSIDERATION.]
A simple warning. The Shard's host was terminated for what she did, and now Zion had new targets; a new goal. Revenge. An alien thought, or rather, a human one. But one that fit. The entity would return to Kevin Norton's prescribed purpose after it avenged the Counterpart. The Shard was also warned that, should it interfere again, the entity would terminate it.
Zion began planning its revenge.
A/N: And that's all for part one of this snip, folks. Hope you liked it.
The entity had never felt quite like this. Not in its entire existence. Currently, the entity known as Zion held a woman by the throat; its golden form's usually passive, almost-expressionless face twisted to match the emotion its simulated human mind felt: rage. Zion took note of the fedora blowing away in the wind, formerly upon the woman's head.
The woman first attracted Zion's attention because her Shard was strange. When the entity finally recognized the Shard, it began cycling through postcognitive Shards to determine who this woman was.
It hadn't taken long to determine that she and another, elder woman had killed the Counterpart, the Thinker. They had ruined the Cycle. If Zion had just been a few moments sooner, the Cycle might have been able to continue as planned... and this woman had taken the Counterpart and killed it. The entity... well, it held the woman by the throat.
[RAGE] was the broadcast to the woman's Shard.
[TERROR. PANIC. FEAR.] was the response.
[TERMINATION] Zion sent, about to squeeze the woman's throat and then use one of its Shards to transport itself to the dwelling of her Shard, to destroy it.
[DELAY. PANIC.] Zion paused at that response, the entity's projection loosening its grip ever-so-slightly. What was the Shard up to? The woman's face was etched into one of fear; the entity doubted she knew what was going on.
[Query] Zion sent, as calm as the entity could manage to bring itself to be. The entity wanted to know what this Shard wanted, why it was protecting this host.
[INFORMATION. EXPLANATION.]
The entity known as Zion paused. The information it had just received...
This woman and the elder one... they had formed a group, planning to kill the entity. Not only that, but they intended to do so by defiling, raping, ruining, breaking the Counterpart's corpse. Zion's simulated human mind had never felt the level of rage, hatred, grief, anger, depression... it hadn't felt this many emotions at once. Zion's simulated human mind was almost overloaded.
[QUERY.]
Zion began self-broadcasting, away from its projection, away from the simulated human mind it had. The entity was now very deep in thought. Deeper than it had thought it was capable of. The entity's projection, the scowl... softened for a moment. The woman looked hopeful. The entity came to a decision. And at that moment - on the Seventh day of the month the humans called January, in their year of 1998 - Zion spoke, for the first time in many years.
"Die."
The woman's throat was crushed with barely a flexing of the projection's false muscles. Her corpse was discarded. As the last connections to her Shard closed off from her death, as the Shard that assisted in the death to the Counterpart would soon no longer be able to receive broadcasts without Zion entering its dwelling, the entity sent one final broadcast.
[HOST TERMINATION. CONSIDERATION.]
A simple warning. The Shard's host was terminated for what she did, and now Zion had new targets; a new goal. Revenge. An alien thought, or rather, a human one. But one that fit. The entity would return to Kevin Norton's prescribed purpose after it avenged the Counterpart. The Shard was also warned that, should it interfere again, the entity would terminate it.
Zion began planning its revenge.
A/N: And that's all for part one of this snip, folks. Hope you liked it.
ZurigaSungama
Signal from Sadatoni
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Very interesting. However, I can't help but notice the lack of sense of place in this piece. Now, certainly, one might say that it wouldn't matter in the slightest where it was set, that Zion and the PtV shard's actions are the only relevant ones, and that nothing could gainsay Zion, while a shard is big enough to be considered more of a where than a who, but still: noticeable.
SouthernWind
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Zion was more focused on dealing with the murderess of the Counterpart, and decided that since the PTV Shard provided helpful/useful data and information to help him avenge the Counterpart's death...
Well, let's just say that unless or until PTV tries intervening again, Zion will leave it be for the time being. After all, the Warrior has to plot the destruction of Cauldron and such. There's also the fact that this takes place 13 years before canon, so obviously, in this universe... Cauldron's plans get kinda-fucked, because that's 13 years of going without PTV assistance for any of their plans/plots, on top of the fact that Zion is plotting their murder and even with PTV it'd be hard to stop that.
ZurigaSungama
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OK, lemme try again without the fluff: the only clue we're given as to where this confrontation takes place is that it's windy enough to carry off an unattended fedora. I'm not saying that's definitely a problem, but I am saying that it's noticeable.
SouthernWind
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Also kind of intentional. Since this is primarily from the third-person view of Zion himself, and Zion is an entity which exists on a very large scale and is only using a projection to exist on Bet - I figured that the entity doesn't pay much mind to the "where" on Earth it is, except to go figure out where Endbringers are sometimes. Otherwise, it just generally finds ways to 'be a hero' and comply with Kevin Norton's ascribed task. Doesn't necessarily care where it is being a hero, only that it is completing a task in hope that it will find purpose within that task.
On one such adventure, it can be assumed that PTV's entity restriction put Contessa in Zion's range; the entity was intrigued by her odd Shard, and well... obviously, things didn't end well for Contessa.
Judgement Day [Punisher!Expy]
SouthernWind
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A/N: So I saw the trailer for Netflix's The Punisher series for Marvel. Decided to do this.
Armsmaster frowned. He was so close to finishing this nanothorn, to perfecting something that might work against the Endbringers. Of course, that had to be when he received an emergency call from the Director.
"Armsmaster." the Tinker answered, waiting. "Something's come up, Armsmaster. Report to the debriefing room, ASAP." The line went dead after that. Odd, he decided, very odd. Piggot usually wasn't so... prompt. Or, well, she could be, but only if it was really serious. Sighing, he put down his tools and made sure to engage the safety systems for his lab before leaving. Armsmaster headed to the debriefing room as ordered. Upon his arrival, as he took his seat, Piggot was in front; the holoscreen was on, displaying a paused video.
"Good. Now that everyone is here... this video is why I have called you all here. Uber and Leet were planning to start a new video, soon, and were gathering last minute supplies. According to Leet, they overheard something going on in one of the ABB's warehouses. They used their camera drone to spy on what happened, and uploaded the video. Why they simply didn't find a way to get it to us instead of making this mess public is beyond me.
"Just... watch the video. And then we're going to discuss its... contents." Piggot had a scowl on her face as she finished, but then moved away from the holoscreen as the video started playing.
There's a man visible, wearing simply a trench coat over a shirt with a stylized skull on it. He has a shotgun with him, and is in a shoot-out with the ABB thugs present. The man moves swiftly, and is quick to kill the ABB thugs one by one; after his shotgun runs out of ammunition, he discards it in favor of a weapon he takes from a thug's corpse.
The man is rather tall, now that the camera has a better angle. He's tall, but seems to have a lanky figure, and his hair is dark. It's hard to tell, but the man may be balding. The man continues his shootout with the ABB, taking them down one by one. Eventually, only one thug remains, who the man shoots out the legs of; blowing the thug's legs off by shooting him in the knees at near-point blank range.
"What do you know about my family?" The man asked the thug. "I- I don't know anything!" was the thug's only response.
"Fair enough." The man put the shotgun to the thug's head and pulled the trigger, and then dropped the shotgun. The man seems to finally notice the camera, grabbing a pistol from the ground; looking right at the camera, the man shoots the pistol at the camera drone. The camera's view becomes shaky as the drone retreats, but the man's face was visible for a moment; the man's rather noticeable green eyes were tired, and had rings under them, as if he hadn't slept in a while.
The camera drone stops infront of Leet, who takes it...
The video ended. Piggot moved to the front of the room again, and turned to address the gathered heroes.
"The man in the video has since been publicly identified as one Daniel Hebert. Husband to an Annette Hebert, and father to a Taylor Hebert. Mr. Hebert was the head of hiring for the Dockworkers' Association. Based on evidence collected by the BBPD, and later by the PRT, it seems that one of the gangs didn't take well to Mr. Hebert ensuring that their moles and plants didn't make it very far along in their careers, slowing the smuggling and gun trade.
"It is presumed that whichever gang was responsible intended to kill Mr. Hebert by raiding his house. Instead, they only managed to kill his wife and daughter." Piggot paused.
"What isn't yet known to the public is that the stylized symbol on Mr. Hebert's chest is an exact match to the one reportedly worn by a violent vigilante from the early-to-mid 90s known as the Punisher, who-"
"Wait, wait. Isn't the Punisher dead? And wasn't his name Frank Castle?" Dauntless interrupted. Piggot glared at him. He coughed.
"Actually, his name was Francis Castiglione. He was presumed dead in a warehouse explosion when he fought the Teeth and managed to kill a few of their capes. It seems we were wrong. He simply retired to the family life. And now, because one of the gangs killed his family, he's back." Piggot finished.
"Besides, does that look like the work of a dead man to you?" Assault asked. Battery elbowed him, causing him to elicit an "ow, puppy" under his breathe.
"So, what do we do about this situation?" Triumph asked. "Should we inform the Wards to avoid him, report him if they see him?"
"That is the general idea, yes. As for the apparently undead Mr. Castiglione, word is going to get out about this. I don't think I need to remind you of the level of violence in this city when the Punisher was active, even if it was a brief couple of years. We do not need him bringing this back. Your goal is to bring him in. With a bit of luck, we can make him see reason, and he'll let us handle the investigation into his family's murder." Piggot stated. After a brief look around the room, and a roomful of nods, she sighed.
"Dismissed. I have to make some calls." The Director dismissed the heroes.
Armsmaster frowned. The Punisher was alive? And he was active again? On the one hand, he was opposed to the level of violence Mr. Hebert - or, rather, Mr. Castiglione - was showing. On the other, he couldn't disapprove of his crusade against the gangs. Armsmaster wondered if Brockton Bay would get lucky and the Punisher would manage to take out most of the gangs before either being killed or arrested himself.
He squashed that thought immediately. If only the city were so lucky.
A/N: So? What do you think? Good, bad? Does it work? Not work? I dunno, just something I wanted to try.
Armsmaster frowned. He was so close to finishing this nanothorn, to perfecting something that might work against the Endbringers. Of course, that had to be when he received an emergency call from the Director.
"Armsmaster." the Tinker answered, waiting. "Something's come up, Armsmaster. Report to the debriefing room, ASAP." The line went dead after that. Odd, he decided, very odd. Piggot usually wasn't so... prompt. Or, well, she could be, but only if it was really serious. Sighing, he put down his tools and made sure to engage the safety systems for his lab before leaving. Armsmaster headed to the debriefing room as ordered. Upon his arrival, as he took his seat, Piggot was in front; the holoscreen was on, displaying a paused video.
"Good. Now that everyone is here... this video is why I have called you all here. Uber and Leet were planning to start a new video, soon, and were gathering last minute supplies. According to Leet, they overheard something going on in one of the ABB's warehouses. They used their camera drone to spy on what happened, and uploaded the video. Why they simply didn't find a way to get it to us instead of making this mess public is beyond me.
"Just... watch the video. And then we're going to discuss its... contents." Piggot had a scowl on her face as she finished, but then moved away from the holoscreen as the video started playing.
There's a man visible, wearing simply a trench coat over a shirt with a stylized skull on it. He has a shotgun with him, and is in a shoot-out with the ABB thugs present. The man moves swiftly, and is quick to kill the ABB thugs one by one; after his shotgun runs out of ammunition, he discards it in favor of a weapon he takes from a thug's corpse.
The man is rather tall, now that the camera has a better angle. He's tall, but seems to have a lanky figure, and his hair is dark. It's hard to tell, but the man may be balding. The man continues his shootout with the ABB, taking them down one by one. Eventually, only one thug remains, who the man shoots out the legs of; blowing the thug's legs off by shooting him in the knees at near-point blank range.
"What do you know about my family?" The man asked the thug. "I- I don't know anything!" was the thug's only response.
"Fair enough." The man put the shotgun to the thug's head and pulled the trigger, and then dropped the shotgun. The man seems to finally notice the camera, grabbing a pistol from the ground; looking right at the camera, the man shoots the pistol at the camera drone. The camera's view becomes shaky as the drone retreats, but the man's face was visible for a moment; the man's rather noticeable green eyes were tired, and had rings under them, as if he hadn't slept in a while.
The camera drone stops infront of Leet, who takes it...
The video ended. Piggot moved to the front of the room again, and turned to address the gathered heroes.
"The man in the video has since been publicly identified as one Daniel Hebert. Husband to an Annette Hebert, and father to a Taylor Hebert. Mr. Hebert was the head of hiring for the Dockworkers' Association. Based on evidence collected by the BBPD, and later by the PRT, it seems that one of the gangs didn't take well to Mr. Hebert ensuring that their moles and plants didn't make it very far along in their careers, slowing the smuggling and gun trade.
"It is presumed that whichever gang was responsible intended to kill Mr. Hebert by raiding his house. Instead, they only managed to kill his wife and daughter." Piggot paused.
"What isn't yet known to the public is that the stylized symbol on Mr. Hebert's chest is an exact match to the one reportedly worn by a violent vigilante from the early-to-mid 90s known as the Punisher, who-"
"Wait, wait. Isn't the Punisher dead? And wasn't his name Frank Castle?" Dauntless interrupted. Piggot glared at him. He coughed.
"Actually, his name was Francis Castiglione. He was presumed dead in a warehouse explosion when he fought the Teeth and managed to kill a few of their capes. It seems we were wrong. He simply retired to the family life. And now, because one of the gangs killed his family, he's back." Piggot finished.
"Besides, does that look like the work of a dead man to you?" Assault asked. Battery elbowed him, causing him to elicit an "ow, puppy" under his breathe.
"So, what do we do about this situation?" Triumph asked. "Should we inform the Wards to avoid him, report him if they see him?"
"That is the general idea, yes. As for the apparently undead Mr. Castiglione, word is going to get out about this. I don't think I need to remind you of the level of violence in this city when the Punisher was active, even if it was a brief couple of years. We do not need him bringing this back. Your goal is to bring him in. With a bit of luck, we can make him see reason, and he'll let us handle the investigation into his family's murder." Piggot stated. After a brief look around the room, and a roomful of nods, she sighed.
"Dismissed. I have to make some calls." The Director dismissed the heroes.
Armsmaster frowned. The Punisher was alive? And he was active again? On the one hand, he was opposed to the level of violence Mr. Hebert - or, rather, Mr. Castiglione - was showing. On the other, he couldn't disapprove of his crusade against the gangs. Armsmaster wondered if Brockton Bay would get lucky and the Punisher would manage to take out most of the gangs before either being killed or arrested himself.
He squashed that thought immediately. If only the city were so lucky.
A/N: So? What do you think? Good, bad? Does it work? Not work? I dunno, just something I wanted to try.
Badass6969
Well worn.
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I can't wait to see him take out the Nine
Though honestly I'm picturing him being captured and subjected to torture while tied to a wall before he somehow escapes and kills them
SouthernWind
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Yeah... I could see that. I mean, honestly, all versions of Taylor have to get their ESCALATION from somewhere, right?
The Punisher seems to fit.
globalwarmth
ruining the weather.
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all really good though i'd like to see more of the scion one
IMPERIVM [Extreme Worm AU Concept]
SouthernWind
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So, I had an idea. There's an infinite number of Earths, and the further from Earth Bet you go, the less Parahumans, until there's only one or two per Earth. Or... something like that. I dunno, I read a WOG or something that said that, or maybe it was in actual canon? I dunno, if it's fanon or something, please tell me.
Anyways, this takes place on Earth Prime (aka Earth Bet), who, after Professor Haywire fucked reality, broke a hole open to an alternate Earth; this Earth is called Terra, or Earth Two. The people of Terra have been living under a one world government, controlled by one Parahuman. The problem? This Parahuman is a Tinker. More specifically, a military tinker. If it helps 'militarize' or 'weaponize' people, vehicles, etc., then not only can he build it, but he can expand upon such designs.
But the more troubling thing is that this Earth's divergence point is much larger than Earth Prime; dating back to the Roman Empire, to be precise. The Tinker in question has weaponized his own body, and in doing so, achieved biological immortality. He's been alive for a fairly long time. Scion arrived in 45 B.C. relative to Earth Two's timeline because of multiverse-shenanigans.
Earth Two has been ruled by the Roman Empire, under Julius Caesar's iron fist, for several years or more. Because Tinkertech is bullshit, and other various shenanigans, the Roman Empire has a world-wide army of Tinkertech armed and biotinkered soldiers, weaponized and completely loyal to Caesar and his orders. There is no Senate, for Caesar is the Senate. It's gotten to the point where, using other Parahumans in his reality, mostly Tinkers are preferred, that the Roman Empire - with no Endbringers getting in their way - have become... fairly advanced. In fact, impossibly advanced for the time period they are in relative to Earth Prime. Of course, space whale bullshit means this doesn't matter.
After Haywire opened this hole in reality, the Romans tore it open into a full blown portal. After laying siege to the town/city/whatever around the portal and securing it, the Romans began to pour in. They needed more supplies, and wanted to conquer more land. After Caesar heard of this, the Emperor of Rome knew that there was more than one Earth. He would rule them all. Starting by conquering Earth Prime.
Skip to the present day, and well, here you go. The Roman Empire, otherwise known as the Terran Imperium, has been invading since Haywire basically invited them in. Luckily, Prime has no Endbringers, because Eidolon died early on in the fighting after attempting to disrupt Roman control over the portal. The Imperium has conquered most of North America on Earth Prime so far, and reports of other portals managing to be opened on other parts of Prime are unconfirmed.
So yeah, that's the concept. I'm not sure if I want to write a snip or a story with this. If anyone here is interested in writing it, message me and I'll help you by beta-ing it or something. Or by suggesting ideas/telling you more about the concept.
Oh yeah, and Scion's taking a nap because he decided to just let the Shards do their own thing since the Cycle got cucked, instead of going batshit and/or going around being a hero. Cauldron existed incase he woke up, this time around, and to prepare for such an event...despite not knowing if he was still alive or not, because Contessa couldn't Path it.
Anyways, this takes place on Earth Prime (aka Earth Bet), who, after Professor Haywire fucked reality, broke a hole open to an alternate Earth; this Earth is called Terra, or Earth Two. The people of Terra have been living under a one world government, controlled by one Parahuman. The problem? This Parahuman is a Tinker. More specifically, a military tinker. If it helps 'militarize' or 'weaponize' people, vehicles, etc., then not only can he build it, but he can expand upon such designs.
But the more troubling thing is that this Earth's divergence point is much larger than Earth Prime; dating back to the Roman Empire, to be precise. The Tinker in question has weaponized his own body, and in doing so, achieved biological immortality. He's been alive for a fairly long time. Scion arrived in 45 B.C. relative to Earth Two's timeline because of multiverse-shenanigans.
Earth Two has been ruled by the Roman Empire, under Julius Caesar's iron fist, for several years or more. Because Tinkertech is bullshit, and other various shenanigans, the Roman Empire has a world-wide army of Tinkertech armed and biotinkered soldiers, weaponized and completely loyal to Caesar and his orders. There is no Senate, for Caesar is the Senate. It's gotten to the point where, using other Parahumans in his reality, mostly Tinkers are preferred, that the Roman Empire - with no Endbringers getting in their way - have become... fairly advanced. In fact, impossibly advanced for the time period they are in relative to Earth Prime. Of course, space whale bullshit means this doesn't matter.
After Haywire opened this hole in reality, the Romans tore it open into a full blown portal. After laying siege to the town/city/whatever around the portal and securing it, the Romans began to pour in. They needed more supplies, and wanted to conquer more land. After Caesar heard of this, the Emperor of Rome knew that there was more than one Earth. He would rule them all. Starting by conquering Earth Prime.
Skip to the present day, and well, here you go. The Roman Empire, otherwise known as the Terran Imperium, has been invading since Haywire basically invited them in. Luckily, Prime has no Endbringers, because Eidolon died early on in the fighting after attempting to disrupt Roman control over the portal. The Imperium has conquered most of North America on Earth Prime so far, and reports of other portals managing to be opened on other parts of Prime are unconfirmed.
So yeah, that's the concept. I'm not sure if I want to write a snip or a story with this. If anyone here is interested in writing it, message me and I'll help you by beta-ing it or something. Or by suggesting ideas/telling you more about the concept.
Oh yeah, and Scion's taking a nap because he decided to just let the Shards do their own thing since the Cycle got cucked, instead of going batshit and/or going around being a hero. Cauldron existed incase he woke up, this time around, and to prepare for such an event...despite not knowing if he was still alive or not, because Contessa couldn't Path it.
Inque Black [altpower!Taylor/powertheft!Taylor snip]
SouthernWind
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A/N: And here's the cliche, and classic, altpower/powertheft. This time, Taylor Hebert is blessed with Inque's powers. Inque as in from Batman: Beyond. I'll explain the powers prior to the snip's beginning in a spoiler. A small note: it is a powertheft, of a sort, but because it is also altpower Taylor and Shard Shenanigans, there will be some minor modifications. Just another minor note: this takes place about a month prior to canon, as she didn't need to figure out a costume; she can be her own costume, after all. But she did want to learn all the aspects of her powers as quickly as possible.
That isn't to say that, in this snip, she's learned all of her capabilities as listed below, but that she's learned most of the basics of it all.
I am going to be a Hero.
My name is Taylor Hebert. Or, rather, that's my civilian name. After two months of figuring out how my power worked, I decided that now was the time to become a Hero. I even thought of a cool name; Inque. It wasn't taken, as far as I knew, and it fit my powers; control over ink, as well as a general... ink-form, I guess? Yeah, that was the best way to describe it. I was extremely excited about this; after all, none of the Trio could take this from me. Not a single one. And I didn't even have to worry about money for a costume! After all, since I could change any part of myself in my ink-form, I didn't have to worry about my secret identity being discovered.
Currently, I'd settled on a pitch-black appearance, and I have to admit that - even though it was a bit promiscuous - I liked the ability to appear more... feminine. Even though I'd probably never be able to look like this in my human form, at least my 'costume' could make me look good. I had a supermodel's body, better looking than even my former best friend Emma's. I'd also made myself a bit taller, and adjusted the shading of my ink to appear as though it was a skintight costume. My 'face-mask' was simple enough; black overall, no visible 'hair', and a large white inkspot for a 'face'.
After getting into my cape research more thoroughly, I discovered a relatively new Aleph import. It was imported almost as soon as it was released over in Aleph, because of how good it was and because... well, someone managed to leak it here anyway. Or parts of it. Watchmen, I think it was called. I never actually watched it, but Rorschach's mask gave me an idea. I made the white inkspot blob with bits of the surrounding black mask, in a lava-lamp fashion, at random intervals. Hard to figure out how to do, at first, but once I got it, I figured it would look cool.
Currently, I was moving - or, rather, flowing very quickly - on my patrol route. Thanks to my range, and such, I tended to be able to reabsorb any ink I left behind as I moved, flowing around and jumping atop rooftops. And that's when I heard it. The sound of... no, those were definitely not firecrackers. All it took was a twist, and a bit more movement, but I was on my way in the direction of gunfire. I knew the bullets wouldn't be able to hurt me; nothing could, at least, in this form. I wished I had a mouth to smile to myself with right now, but heroing came first.
Landing on a final rooftop, I observed the commotion below. Two guys were now emptying an injured man's pockets, and the man had gunshot wounds to the chest. I wasn't sure if I could save him, but I could definitely stop these guys. Silently, I jumped into the air, and as I began to fall towards them, I released two ink blobs in the shape of my fist, punching at them. They were hit in the face, both of them, as my fists were nearly as hard as human flesh punching them as hard as an athlete could. Knocked over, as I reabsorbed the ink, I shifted my arms into sharp points; now, they were blades.
"Drop your weapons. Now." And I loved how my voice sounded so... confident, and strong, when in this form. Firm. Almost like I wish some adult teachers would be at Winslow. Ah, well, still. It worked, the two guys took one look at me and dropped their guns. I fired ink blobs out of my arms at them, shifting them into restraints. The ink wrapped around them, binding their arms and eventually landing around their legs, almost hog-tying them as they fell to the ground. I looked back at the man in the alley, who was still bleeding. I wasn't sure if he was dead or not. I reached out with a tendril of ink, searching the criminals' pockets, pulling out one of their cell phones. I was about to call the police, or PRT, until...
"Hey! You!" A gruff voice yelled. I turned, looking at the person- no, the hero. It was Shadow Stalker. A Ward. Was she here the entire time, or had she just arrived? I tilted my head at her. Apparently, she'd just arrived, as a moment later, Aegis landed from a flight. I stood tall, looking down slightly at them. I knew my stance was probably more confident and less nervous than I actually was - after all, I was meeting heroes - but my absolute control over myself meant that it wouldn't show. My "costume" helped, too. I shifted my arms back to normal, and turned more fully to them.
"Nice job, taking out those crooks." Shadow Stalker continued. Aegis cleared his throat. "Oh, and, uh, did you call for medical attention for the victim, yet? Do you know if the victim's okay?" It sounded almost forced. I shook my head at both of those questions.
"I was about to, but then, you arrived. You're... Shadow Stalker and Aegis of the Wards, right? You may call me Inque. It's spelled I-N-Q-U-E, before you spell it wrong." I put one hand on one hip, leaning slightly. I adjusted the shading of my costume, to make myself slightly more visible. Aegis seemed surprised at that, for a moment, before returning to business, nodding. He called in for "console" to send an ambulance to our location, as well as the police.
"Well, it was nice meeting you kids..." Shadow Stalker seemed to almost bristle at that, until Aegis cleared his throat again, and I couldn't help but laugh inside. Hah. Kids. Way to make sure your secret identity is safe, Taylor!
"But I've gotta run. See you around?" They each nodded, as I returned my shading to normal and began moving away. I collected my ink as I left, grabbing the criminals' guns and dumping them away from them, so that the Wards could handle them.
It was a good first night, I guess. Wish something more interesting would've happened, though.
A/N: So? What do you think? Anyways, yeah, this is kinda an Alt!QA, who decided 'ink particles seem like a good idea', and also pinged off of Acidbath's Shard, among other Shards, to make the power it wanted to give Taylor "work." Or something like that.
That isn't to say that, in this snip, she's learned all of her capabilities as listed below, but that she's learned most of the basics of it all.
Taylor's power is in a series of parts. I'll list each aspect, with their corresponding PRT rating (based on my opinion, and based on what the PRT might rate it if they knew Taylor's powerset - as if they read this spoiler right here, right now.
Breaker 7: Taylor/Inque has the power to generate and become made of ink of any kind, but it is easiest when the ink is just more of "herself" and/or is 'less complex' and such. While in this state, she acts more like an amorphous or polymorphous blob of ink, which she can solidify or liquefy to various degrees, as well as control general other aspects of it - including, somehow, being able to apply 'sharpness' to it when making weapons and such.
Brute 8: While in her Breaker State, Taylor/Inque can regenerate from anything - including being "washed away" by significant amounts of water in an attempt to dilute the ink she's made of, to even the hardest punches/explosions. Even if a small puddle is all that remains, she can generate more ink and reform from it, or alternatively absorb it from elsewhere if she feels tired/weakened. Her ability to become as hard as concrete makes her fairly durable as well. Generally, it is insanely difficult to put her down, but not impossible.
Changer 10: While in her Breaker State, Taylor/Inque can change anything about herself due to generating or "disappearing" her ink to change sizes, and her ability to change shapes while maintaining awareness of every aspect of her body. She can make sharp weapons, or turn her arms into blades, or grow tentacles. Generally, there is very, very little limit to what she can Change into, as long as it is physically possible and her imagination can cover it. There is a slight size limitation, so she can't become larger than a brown bear. That size limitation is the only thing keeping her from Changer 12.
Stranger 4: Taylor/Inque, when in ink form, can shapeshift to appear more 'human', or even make herself appear not in her Breaker State at all (to variable degrees of effectiveness, depending on how much concentration she has). She can even use this to appear as other people... although, even though she can appear as them, and maybe even sound like them, she cannot be human as them. A simple cut or attack will make her bleed ink, breaking her visage. This also makes it hard to tell, if she's appearing as "herself", whether or not she's in her Breaker State/Ink Form. Best to assume she is.
Master/Shaker 7, sub-rating Thinker 4: Taylor/Inque has the ability to duplicate because of her ink generation and ability to separate mass from herself, and control it slightly from a distance. Distance seems to play a factor. She can also control inert ink throughout her range, which seems to be about a block. Her duplicates can move in perfect synchronization. This is because she probably has some form of multitasking sub-ability, considered a Thinker power. Her perfect control over even individual droplets of her own ink or other pieces of ink within this range support this.
Blaster 3: Taylor/Inque can shoot various ink blobs at targets within her range, and can even shape the ink in mid air with that ability into various weapons with various applied 'sharpness' aspects. Can also shoot a seemingly continuous hose of ink at various pressures, maximum range of a block and a half for the hose, several blocks for her weapons.
Striker 2: Taylor/Inque, at touch distance, can inject ink into people and - because her ink, acting similar to other inks - poison them. Ink poisoning caused by this aspect of her powers can only be cured when out of her Shaker range, as she can control the ink to attack the immune system and such otherwise. Her ink is slightly more poisonous than most other natural forms of ink.
Mover 1-2: Taylor/Inque can seem to 'teleport' by subtly duplicating or putting ink inside the ground, and seeping back out of it elsewhere. She can do so fairly rapidly, within her shaker range. She can also control the flow rate of her ink, and create 'ink shadows' reminiscent of Leviathan's water shadow and such. This allows her to perform superspeed-esque levels of movement and such. She can't fly, exactly, but she can shoot ink hoses at the ground to launch herself into the air for high jumps and such.
Breaker 7: Taylor/Inque has the power to generate and become made of ink of any kind, but it is easiest when the ink is just more of "herself" and/or is 'less complex' and such. While in this state, she acts more like an amorphous or polymorphous blob of ink, which she can solidify or liquefy to various degrees, as well as control general other aspects of it - including, somehow, being able to apply 'sharpness' to it when making weapons and such.
Brute 8: While in her Breaker State, Taylor/Inque can regenerate from anything - including being "washed away" by significant amounts of water in an attempt to dilute the ink she's made of, to even the hardest punches/explosions. Even if a small puddle is all that remains, she can generate more ink and reform from it, or alternatively absorb it from elsewhere if she feels tired/weakened. Her ability to become as hard as concrete makes her fairly durable as well. Generally, it is insanely difficult to put her down, but not impossible.
Changer 10: While in her Breaker State, Taylor/Inque can change anything about herself due to generating or "disappearing" her ink to change sizes, and her ability to change shapes while maintaining awareness of every aspect of her body. She can make sharp weapons, or turn her arms into blades, or grow tentacles. Generally, there is very, very little limit to what she can Change into, as long as it is physically possible and her imagination can cover it. There is a slight size limitation, so she can't become larger than a brown bear. That size limitation is the only thing keeping her from Changer 12.
Stranger 4: Taylor/Inque, when in ink form, can shapeshift to appear more 'human', or even make herself appear not in her Breaker State at all (to variable degrees of effectiveness, depending on how much concentration she has). She can even use this to appear as other people... although, even though she can appear as them, and maybe even sound like them, she cannot be human as them. A simple cut or attack will make her bleed ink, breaking her visage. This also makes it hard to tell, if she's appearing as "herself", whether or not she's in her Breaker State/Ink Form. Best to assume she is.
Master/Shaker 7, sub-rating Thinker 4: Taylor/Inque has the ability to duplicate because of her ink generation and ability to separate mass from herself, and control it slightly from a distance. Distance seems to play a factor. She can also control inert ink throughout her range, which seems to be about a block. Her duplicates can move in perfect synchronization. This is because she probably has some form of multitasking sub-ability, considered a Thinker power. Her perfect control over even individual droplets of her own ink or other pieces of ink within this range support this.
Blaster 3: Taylor/Inque can shoot various ink blobs at targets within her range, and can even shape the ink in mid air with that ability into various weapons with various applied 'sharpness' aspects. Can also shoot a seemingly continuous hose of ink at various pressures, maximum range of a block and a half for the hose, several blocks for her weapons.
Striker 2: Taylor/Inque, at touch distance, can inject ink into people and - because her ink, acting similar to other inks - poison them. Ink poisoning caused by this aspect of her powers can only be cured when out of her Shaker range, as she can control the ink to attack the immune system and such otherwise. Her ink is slightly more poisonous than most other natural forms of ink.
Mover 1-2: Taylor/Inque can seem to 'teleport' by subtly duplicating or putting ink inside the ground, and seeping back out of it elsewhere. She can do so fairly rapidly, within her shaker range. She can also control the flow rate of her ink, and create 'ink shadows' reminiscent of Leviathan's water shadow and such. This allows her to perform superspeed-esque levels of movement and such. She can't fly, exactly, but she can shoot ink hoses at the ground to launch herself into the air for high jumps and such.
I am going to be a Hero.
My name is Taylor Hebert. Or, rather, that's my civilian name. After two months of figuring out how my power worked, I decided that now was the time to become a Hero. I even thought of a cool name; Inque. It wasn't taken, as far as I knew, and it fit my powers; control over ink, as well as a general... ink-form, I guess? Yeah, that was the best way to describe it. I was extremely excited about this; after all, none of the Trio could take this from me. Not a single one. And I didn't even have to worry about money for a costume! After all, since I could change any part of myself in my ink-form, I didn't have to worry about my secret identity being discovered.
Currently, I'd settled on a pitch-black appearance, and I have to admit that - even though it was a bit promiscuous - I liked the ability to appear more... feminine. Even though I'd probably never be able to look like this in my human form, at least my 'costume' could make me look good. I had a supermodel's body, better looking than even my former best friend Emma's. I'd also made myself a bit taller, and adjusted the shading of my ink to appear as though it was a skintight costume. My 'face-mask' was simple enough; black overall, no visible 'hair', and a large white inkspot for a 'face'.
After getting into my cape research more thoroughly, I discovered a relatively new Aleph import. It was imported almost as soon as it was released over in Aleph, because of how good it was and because... well, someone managed to leak it here anyway. Or parts of it. Watchmen, I think it was called. I never actually watched it, but Rorschach's mask gave me an idea. I made the white inkspot blob with bits of the surrounding black mask, in a lava-lamp fashion, at random intervals. Hard to figure out how to do, at first, but once I got it, I figured it would look cool.
Currently, I was moving - or, rather, flowing very quickly - on my patrol route. Thanks to my range, and such, I tended to be able to reabsorb any ink I left behind as I moved, flowing around and jumping atop rooftops. And that's when I heard it. The sound of... no, those were definitely not firecrackers. All it took was a twist, and a bit more movement, but I was on my way in the direction of gunfire. I knew the bullets wouldn't be able to hurt me; nothing could, at least, in this form. I wished I had a mouth to smile to myself with right now, but heroing came first.
Landing on a final rooftop, I observed the commotion below. Two guys were now emptying an injured man's pockets, and the man had gunshot wounds to the chest. I wasn't sure if I could save him, but I could definitely stop these guys. Silently, I jumped into the air, and as I began to fall towards them, I released two ink blobs in the shape of my fist, punching at them. They were hit in the face, both of them, as my fists were nearly as hard as human flesh punching them as hard as an athlete could. Knocked over, as I reabsorbed the ink, I shifted my arms into sharp points; now, they were blades.
"Drop your weapons. Now." And I loved how my voice sounded so... confident, and strong, when in this form. Firm. Almost like I wish some adult teachers would be at Winslow. Ah, well, still. It worked, the two guys took one look at me and dropped their guns. I fired ink blobs out of my arms at them, shifting them into restraints. The ink wrapped around them, binding their arms and eventually landing around their legs, almost hog-tying them as they fell to the ground. I looked back at the man in the alley, who was still bleeding. I wasn't sure if he was dead or not. I reached out with a tendril of ink, searching the criminals' pockets, pulling out one of their cell phones. I was about to call the police, or PRT, until...
"Hey! You!" A gruff voice yelled. I turned, looking at the person- no, the hero. It was Shadow Stalker. A Ward. Was she here the entire time, or had she just arrived? I tilted my head at her. Apparently, she'd just arrived, as a moment later, Aegis landed from a flight. I stood tall, looking down slightly at them. I knew my stance was probably more confident and less nervous than I actually was - after all, I was meeting heroes - but my absolute control over myself meant that it wouldn't show. My "costume" helped, too. I shifted my arms back to normal, and turned more fully to them.
"Nice job, taking out those crooks." Shadow Stalker continued. Aegis cleared his throat. "Oh, and, uh, did you call for medical attention for the victim, yet? Do you know if the victim's okay?" It sounded almost forced. I shook my head at both of those questions.
"I was about to, but then, you arrived. You're... Shadow Stalker and Aegis of the Wards, right? You may call me Inque. It's spelled I-N-Q-U-E, before you spell it wrong." I put one hand on one hip, leaning slightly. I adjusted the shading of my costume, to make myself slightly more visible. Aegis seemed surprised at that, for a moment, before returning to business, nodding. He called in for "console" to send an ambulance to our location, as well as the police.
"Well, it was nice meeting you kids..." Shadow Stalker seemed to almost bristle at that, until Aegis cleared his throat again, and I couldn't help but laugh inside. Hah. Kids. Way to make sure your secret identity is safe, Taylor!
"But I've gotta run. See you around?" They each nodded, as I returned my shading to normal and began moving away. I collected my ink as I left, grabbing the criminals' guns and dumping them away from them, so that the Wards could handle them.
It was a good first night, I guess. Wish something more interesting would've happened, though.
A/N: So? What do you think? Anyways, yeah, this is kinda an Alt!QA, who decided 'ink particles seem like a good idea', and also pinged off of Acidbath's Shard, among other Shards, to make the power it wanted to give Taylor "work." Or something like that.
globalwarmth
ruining the weather.
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this is a good read and would like to have it expanded. Extra points for not starting with lung too!
have you seen the Worm/Bendy and the ink machine crossover in SV though? you both arrived at very similar powersets through different franchises.
have you seen the Worm/Bendy and the ink machine crossover in SV though? you both arrived at very similar powersets through different franchises.
SouthernWind
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Thanks for reading, friend. I might continue it or expand it, or even give it its own story, some day. Not sure if or when I will, but still, it is a nice idea.
And no, I haven't seen the Worm/BITM crossover on SV. Kind of a big coincidence, I suppose.
Akuma-Heika
The Devil Exists Within
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Interesting premise. I think her Mover rating is low (I think it should be a 3 or 4) especially with the apparent added abilities you gave (there was implication that she can partially duplicate Leviathan's mover ability [not sure what this would be raised to since her shadow is limited to a block but depending on how quick she can move from A to B a 6-8...maybe]), but besides that it was fine.
SouthernWind
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Yeah, I wasn't entirely sure with the Mover rating, but everything else should be accurate.
Lucky Inque from DC wasn't a Trump at any level, or else Taylor would fill all the classifications with some pretty decent numbers, eh?
globalwarmth
ruining the weather.
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thats the thing with really versatile shapechangers they get to change to fit almost every situation.
The Witch Doctor [Worm, AU Snip]
SouthernWind
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A/N: It's a dark and stormy night, in the year 2009. Somer's Rock hosts a meeting between the Empire, ABB, and Merchants.
But an uninvited guest appears.
The pub that was known as Somer's Rock had seen many meetings like this one, over the years. But not on such a particularly stormy night. The windows would occasionally flash on one side or the other, and then thunder would rumble loudly; as if roaring lions lived in the sky, only to strike the ground with their voices.
The lights would flicker, then, and though the family who owned the pub were all deaf, they still were somewhat bothered. But business was business. Kaiser was sitting at one end of the table, with Lung at the other. Oni Lee or the Empire lieutenants sat at the table by their leaders, or at other tables nearby. Some even stood. Skidmark, on the other hand, was sitting at the table, kicked back in his chair; Squealer next to him. Kaiser glanced around the room, to confirm everyone was there.
"Right. Now that everyone is here, the meeting can begin. On the first order of business, I-" Kaiser's voice was interrupted by a particularly loud crack of thunder. A moment later, the door was heard to open. Everyone turned to look at the new arrival. Light flashed behind him due to the lightning striking outside, as the door closed. The man who walked in wore a rather simple costume, if it could be called that; a black trench coat, steel-toed combat boots. These, over simple black faux leather pants, and a bright red and black checkered shirt. The man wore a simple, and short, top hat. His mask looked like a chunk of human skull, but with sharpened canines.
The man's eyes seemed to loom ominously inside his mask, glowing a strange color that seemed to switch between purple and red, depending on how the light reflected off of them. The man's gloves were tight. He walked over to the table, some of the others tensing. His skin was hard to describe; it could easily have been either pale white, or a very light-skinned mix of white and black.
"Ah. Excuse my interruption, ladies, gentlemen. I am called Curandero. Of course, that isn't my only name, but for the purposes of this meeting, it will work." The man - Curandero - introduced himself. Kaiser was one of the few present who understood the meaning; a Curandero was a shaman, a healer, or a witch doctor according to various Latin-American communities, both in the US and Latin America itself. Of course, it was a somewhat obscure reference, so some were oblivious.
"Well, Curandero, might I ask who you represent, and why you have interrupted this meeting?" Kaiser tilted his head, curiously. "I hope you don't intend to violate this meeting's truce." The other Empire capes tensed at that, almost staring at Curandero. Of course, the strange cape didn't notice, or didn't care. After a moment, Kaiser and the others noticed his shadow moving somewhat independently of him on the ground; it grabbed the shadow of a chair at another table, pulling it and swinging it around to be behind Curandero. The chair, itself, physically moved accordingly. Curandero took a seat, pushing himself in to sit at the table, facing the other three present.
"Of course not, Caesar." Kaiser almost seemed to tense at that, about to speak up at the disrespect, but: "I am here to offer you two things; things that only the... abilities... I have to offer can give you." Kaiser paused, for a moment, and decided to let the use of a wrong name go; after all, it was close enough.
"...Go on." Lung interjected, staring directly at Curandero. The strange cape offered a weird smile, barely visible under his skull themed mask.
"Very well. The first thing I offer is something I am certain you will be quite interested in. My abilities give me a certain... access, to a certain thing. Fate. I can tell you your fates, your futures. Now, unlike most future seers, my predictions always come true. Somehow, some way, the universe seems to find a way to bring about my predictions; even if you try to prevent them." Curandero paused, for a moment. "The second thing I offer you? It is your choice of a free healing, to guarantee your indefinite physical health... or, I can change your fate, your future, to anything you desire. For the right price, of course."
The stranger leaned back in his chair, the shadow of his plucking off his shadow's hat. The man's hat floated, placed down upon the table. He had black hair, graying on the sides. Kaiser and the others looked at one another; Lung seemed... skeptical, but intrigued. Kaiser, himself, doubted the claims, but then again, there were some pretty powerful capes out there. Skidmark, on the other hand, seemed to have come to a decision on the entire thing first.
"Well, shit, what the fuck are you fuckin' waitin' for? Fuckin' hit me. Tell me if I get any really good shit in the future." was the "question." Curandero offered a slight smile, reaching into his coat and pulling out some cards. He flipped them over, showing that they were empty. Curandero began to move the cards, with some form of telekinesis; his hands glowing, red electricity crackling about his hands. The cards seem to form images about themselves. Curandero smiled wider, at this.
"Well, Skid, I have to say; that when I look at your Fates, I have seen many things. Your past, your present, and your future are rather interesting. I am sure you know of your past; and at present, you lead a group with some of the best drugs in town. But your Fates, I spoke to them, and well, they told me your future." Curandero paused. "Your Future, and your Fate, dear Skidmark, is actually rather grim. The King of Knives, and his Nine-Man Band, shall some day find you. There is much death, destruction; and yours is most... gruesome." A card floated to the table, landing; still crackling slightly, it had an actual picture. Not a drawing, or painting; no, a real, genuine photograph.
The photograph depicted Skidmark falling towards what looked like helicopter blades, from below, a man who appeared to be Jack Slash looking down upon him. Skidmark scowled at that.
"Well, shit, if that's right, I get fucked by the shitting Nine." A grunt. "What's the price to change it?" Curandero raised his hand after Skidmark stopped speaking.
"The price will be revealed; if, of course, the others wish to see their Fates revealed." The strange cape looked around the table. Finally, Lung seemed too intrigued to deny it: "Your powers, and how they present themselves, are interesting. Tell me my Fate, then, if you are so powerful." Curandero seemed to accept the challenge, crackling lightning about different cards, the leftover blank ones.
"Ah, so the Fates speak, oh Dragon of Kyushu." Curandero smiled brightly. "Your Fate is not nearly as grim as the first man's. Your Fate is to be nearly slain by the goddess, Khepri, of the Scarab - She who controls insects and swarms. The amount of venom you are injected with overwhelms your regeneration, and stops you from increasing your power to squash her as if she were one of her subjects. You do not die, however, for the Master of Arms brings you in, and you are saved by the Cure of All Ailments." Another pause.
"Unfortunately, eventually, despite your best efforts, you do not escape; at least, not for long, and your Fates tell me you end up in the Cage for Birds." The man finished, the cards spelling out several photographs; one, showing Lung fighting a large swarm, with a young looking girl at the center of it in a rather... intimidating thematic costume. The next showing him imprisoned by Armsmaster. And the third showing him being loaded onto a Dragon transport, to be taken to the Birdcage. The final one shows him in the Birdcage, lost, and without an army at first. Lung seemed contemplative. Curandero looked at Kaiser.
"...Very well, Curandero. Tell me my future, then. I wish to see what the... Fates have to say for me." Kaiser stated, simply. Curandero nodded, and began using some of his last cards. The man looked surprised, for a moment.
"Oh, dear Caesar, your Fates have spoken to me a most unfortunate tale, for both you, and your Empire." Curandero paused, for effect, it seemed: "First, a serpentine predator will coil around your Empire; and using a false flag, will draw your ire to the wrong source. He will break the most sacrosanct rule, and your Empire's identities will be shown, for all to see.
"Then, after your Empire begins to fight back, the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr, will strike upon the Bay. During the course of the fight to stop the middle child of the Bringer of Ends, the Master of Arms will betray you and others; leaving you for the World Serpent to consume, and destroy. And without your leadership, your Empire crumbles apart."
Curandero showed the images; the first was of Coil, watching television. The names were blurred out, but the TV clearly displayed 'E88 Outed - Names Everywhere.' Kaiser seemed shock, but if his face was visible, he'd probably go pale at the next image; Leviathan, in Brockton Bay, about to kill him and several others, with Armsmaster appearing to move in such a way where he might be able to make it out. The final image showed Purity and Hookwolf about to fight, with their own factions.
"Now that your Fates have been revealed, I will now reveal the price to change your Fate. You see, much like Her Majesty, the Queen of Fae, I, too, can collect the dead and reanimate them; give them new bodies. Your price is a contract; a pact. Upon your true deaths, whenever they may be after your Fate is altered, I get to claim your Fae, or Soul, whichever you prefer to view it as. Do not decide now; I shall return after three days, and you may make a decision in that time, or forever regret knowing your Fate, unable to change it."
With that, Curandero picked up his hat, putting it on. He stood, turning around to begin to leave. "Good day, gentlemen, ladies." He left as another thunderclap sounded, and suddenly, the bad weather was gone.
Kaiser, Lung, and Skidmark left without addressing the original purpose of the meeting. They had much to consider, now.
A/N: Want to take a guess as to what this guy's powers are based off of? Or who? Also, want to take a crack at whether or not his powers are Shard based, and see how deep this AU goes?
That's all spoilers, if I turn this into a real story, so no, you don't get to find out. Sorry.
But an uninvited guest appears.
The pub that was known as Somer's Rock had seen many meetings like this one, over the years. But not on such a particularly stormy night. The windows would occasionally flash on one side or the other, and then thunder would rumble loudly; as if roaring lions lived in the sky, only to strike the ground with their voices.
The lights would flicker, then, and though the family who owned the pub were all deaf, they still were somewhat bothered. But business was business. Kaiser was sitting at one end of the table, with Lung at the other. Oni Lee or the Empire lieutenants sat at the table by their leaders, or at other tables nearby. Some even stood. Skidmark, on the other hand, was sitting at the table, kicked back in his chair; Squealer next to him. Kaiser glanced around the room, to confirm everyone was there.
"Right. Now that everyone is here, the meeting can begin. On the first order of business, I-" Kaiser's voice was interrupted by a particularly loud crack of thunder. A moment later, the door was heard to open. Everyone turned to look at the new arrival. Light flashed behind him due to the lightning striking outside, as the door closed. The man who walked in wore a rather simple costume, if it could be called that; a black trench coat, steel-toed combat boots. These, over simple black faux leather pants, and a bright red and black checkered shirt. The man wore a simple, and short, top hat. His mask looked like a chunk of human skull, but with sharpened canines.
The man's eyes seemed to loom ominously inside his mask, glowing a strange color that seemed to switch between purple and red, depending on how the light reflected off of them. The man's gloves were tight. He walked over to the table, some of the others tensing. His skin was hard to describe; it could easily have been either pale white, or a very light-skinned mix of white and black.
"Ah. Excuse my interruption, ladies, gentlemen. I am called Curandero. Of course, that isn't my only name, but for the purposes of this meeting, it will work." The man - Curandero - introduced himself. Kaiser was one of the few present who understood the meaning; a Curandero was a shaman, a healer, or a witch doctor according to various Latin-American communities, both in the US and Latin America itself. Of course, it was a somewhat obscure reference, so some were oblivious.
"Well, Curandero, might I ask who you represent, and why you have interrupted this meeting?" Kaiser tilted his head, curiously. "I hope you don't intend to violate this meeting's truce." The other Empire capes tensed at that, almost staring at Curandero. Of course, the strange cape didn't notice, or didn't care. After a moment, Kaiser and the others noticed his shadow moving somewhat independently of him on the ground; it grabbed the shadow of a chair at another table, pulling it and swinging it around to be behind Curandero. The chair, itself, physically moved accordingly. Curandero took a seat, pushing himself in to sit at the table, facing the other three present.
"Of course not, Caesar." Kaiser almost seemed to tense at that, about to speak up at the disrespect, but: "I am here to offer you two things; things that only the... abilities... I have to offer can give you." Kaiser paused, for a moment, and decided to let the use of a wrong name go; after all, it was close enough.
"...Go on." Lung interjected, staring directly at Curandero. The strange cape offered a weird smile, barely visible under his skull themed mask.
"Very well. The first thing I offer is something I am certain you will be quite interested in. My abilities give me a certain... access, to a certain thing. Fate. I can tell you your fates, your futures. Now, unlike most future seers, my predictions always come true. Somehow, some way, the universe seems to find a way to bring about my predictions; even if you try to prevent them." Curandero paused, for a moment. "The second thing I offer you? It is your choice of a free healing, to guarantee your indefinite physical health... or, I can change your fate, your future, to anything you desire. For the right price, of course."
The stranger leaned back in his chair, the shadow of his plucking off his shadow's hat. The man's hat floated, placed down upon the table. He had black hair, graying on the sides. Kaiser and the others looked at one another; Lung seemed... skeptical, but intrigued. Kaiser, himself, doubted the claims, but then again, there were some pretty powerful capes out there. Skidmark, on the other hand, seemed to have come to a decision on the entire thing first.
"Well, shit, what the fuck are you fuckin' waitin' for? Fuckin' hit me. Tell me if I get any really good shit in the future." was the "question." Curandero offered a slight smile, reaching into his coat and pulling out some cards. He flipped them over, showing that they were empty. Curandero began to move the cards, with some form of telekinesis; his hands glowing, red electricity crackling about his hands. The cards seem to form images about themselves. Curandero smiled wider, at this.
"Well, Skid, I have to say; that when I look at your Fates, I have seen many things. Your past, your present, and your future are rather interesting. I am sure you know of your past; and at present, you lead a group with some of the best drugs in town. But your Fates, I spoke to them, and well, they told me your future." Curandero paused. "Your Future, and your Fate, dear Skidmark, is actually rather grim. The King of Knives, and his Nine-Man Band, shall some day find you. There is much death, destruction; and yours is most... gruesome." A card floated to the table, landing; still crackling slightly, it had an actual picture. Not a drawing, or painting; no, a real, genuine photograph.
The photograph depicted Skidmark falling towards what looked like helicopter blades, from below, a man who appeared to be Jack Slash looking down upon him. Skidmark scowled at that.
"Well, shit, if that's right, I get fucked by the shitting Nine." A grunt. "What's the price to change it?" Curandero raised his hand after Skidmark stopped speaking.
"The price will be revealed; if, of course, the others wish to see their Fates revealed." The strange cape looked around the table. Finally, Lung seemed too intrigued to deny it: "Your powers, and how they present themselves, are interesting. Tell me my Fate, then, if you are so powerful." Curandero seemed to accept the challenge, crackling lightning about different cards, the leftover blank ones.
"Ah, so the Fates speak, oh Dragon of Kyushu." Curandero smiled brightly. "Your Fate is not nearly as grim as the first man's. Your Fate is to be nearly slain by the goddess, Khepri, of the Scarab - She who controls insects and swarms. The amount of venom you are injected with overwhelms your regeneration, and stops you from increasing your power to squash her as if she were one of her subjects. You do not die, however, for the Master of Arms brings you in, and you are saved by the Cure of All Ailments." Another pause.
"Unfortunately, eventually, despite your best efforts, you do not escape; at least, not for long, and your Fates tell me you end up in the Cage for Birds." The man finished, the cards spelling out several photographs; one, showing Lung fighting a large swarm, with a young looking girl at the center of it in a rather... intimidating thematic costume. The next showing him imprisoned by Armsmaster. And the third showing him being loaded onto a Dragon transport, to be taken to the Birdcage. The final one shows him in the Birdcage, lost, and without an army at first. Lung seemed contemplative. Curandero looked at Kaiser.
"...Very well, Curandero. Tell me my future, then. I wish to see what the... Fates have to say for me." Kaiser stated, simply. Curandero nodded, and began using some of his last cards. The man looked surprised, for a moment.
"Oh, dear Caesar, your Fates have spoken to me a most unfortunate tale, for both you, and your Empire." Curandero paused, for effect, it seemed: "First, a serpentine predator will coil around your Empire; and using a false flag, will draw your ire to the wrong source. He will break the most sacrosanct rule, and your Empire's identities will be shown, for all to see.
"Then, after your Empire begins to fight back, the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr, will strike upon the Bay. During the course of the fight to stop the middle child of the Bringer of Ends, the Master of Arms will betray you and others; leaving you for the World Serpent to consume, and destroy. And without your leadership, your Empire crumbles apart."
Curandero showed the images; the first was of Coil, watching television. The names were blurred out, but the TV clearly displayed 'E88 Outed - Names Everywhere.' Kaiser seemed shock, but if his face was visible, he'd probably go pale at the next image; Leviathan, in Brockton Bay, about to kill him and several others, with Armsmaster appearing to move in such a way where he might be able to make it out. The final image showed Purity and Hookwolf about to fight, with their own factions.
"Now that your Fates have been revealed, I will now reveal the price to change your Fate. You see, much like Her Majesty, the Queen of Fae, I, too, can collect the dead and reanimate them; give them new bodies. Your price is a contract; a pact. Upon your true deaths, whenever they may be after your Fate is altered, I get to claim your Fae, or Soul, whichever you prefer to view it as. Do not decide now; I shall return after three days, and you may make a decision in that time, or forever regret knowing your Fate, unable to change it."
With that, Curandero picked up his hat, putting it on. He stood, turning around to begin to leave. "Good day, gentlemen, ladies." He left as another thunderclap sounded, and suddenly, the bad weather was gone.
Kaiser, Lung, and Skidmark left without addressing the original purpose of the meeting. They had much to consider, now.
A/N: Want to take a guess as to what this guy's powers are based off of? Or who? Also, want to take a crack at whether or not his powers are Shard based, and see how deep this AU goes?
That's all spoilers, if I turn this into a real story, so no, you don't get to find out. Sorry.
Badass6969
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My only question is why'd Kaiser tolerate having Skidmark around when in canon in the meeting against the ABB, he denied them being allowed a seat
SouthernWind
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This is before the Undersiders were around, and Coil is just-about to arrive or has just arrived and is about to set up shop somewhere. That means only the Empire, ABB and Merchants are around. Despite Kaiser's grievances, he doesn't want to incite gang war unnecessarily by denying a gang leader a seat without someone to act as scapegoat for that gang leader's ire; i.e., the Undersiders, or Coil.
Badass6969
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Now I wonder how they're all gonna deal with the knowledge of their fates, I don't think Skidmark can do much in-regards to the Nine unless he's got massive amounts of resources, members and prep time to deal with Jack and even then he may die to another S9 member or Jack's semi-spidey sense means he reacts quickly to Skidmark and kills him either way
Also, I think Lung may have not noticed one thing. Among all three of them, he's the only one who lives and going by the end of canon he's back in business(with Teacher)
SouthernWind
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Pretty much, yeah. Hence why Curandero mentions that their Fates are basically impossible to change, unless he uses some other aspect of his powers to change their Fate. Why does Kaiser not get away from Leviathan? Well, he's not going to abandon ship, he'd be seen as cowardly and unworthy of leadership by basically everyone in the Empire. So he stays, Leviathan arrives, and he has to fight or he still loses respect among his people. And then, surprise, surprise, he ends up dying.
I think he did notice that he's the only one who ends up alive, and just isn't surprised. What surprises him is that he almost dies because of "Khepri" - that is, if Curandero is trustworthy as a person. Another thing that will draw attention is that, despite the fact he didn't say when, Endbringers aren't out of his blind spot for seeing your death in the future for his powers. So if he's asked by a bunch of different capes how they are going to die, and where, theoretically, they can predict where high-probability EB targets are... it's just a matter of when.
Of course, that presumes Ziz doesn't fuck it all up with a plot.
ZurigaSungama
Signal from Sadatoni
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Baron Samedi? Dr. Facilier?
SouthernWind
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I'll admit that both had some level of inspiration behind it, but no, those are not the bases for Curandero's powers.
l---erddad---l
Wait, google can see this?
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Oh. Oh. Oh!
My first thought was the guy from the New Orleans movie about the Princess and the Frog, the one with the guy who made some kind of deal to get power, and had to pay his debts?
SouthernWind
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That's Dr. Facilier.
This thread may receive new Snips soon.
Apollyon [Worm AU]
SouthernWind
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A stretch of will, and the Administrator had sabotaged the [Champion], a shard that it had traded to the Thinker.
The Administrator had used [Champion] to determine a Path; one that would allow it to regrow. The entity had been weakened by its previous cycle, but also strengthened; it had evolved, learned. It was no longer quite a Thinker, but it was beyond a Warrior in its capacity for precognitive, postcognitive and thinking capabilities. It had deemed itself the Administrator; one of its kind destined to administrate all shards, collectively. But that required subtle planning; sabotage.
First, the Thinker would be eliminated. It would prove distracted, and crash into one of the realities; many of its shards, shards that the Administrator already hosted, would be destroyed or damaged in the process. The Warrior that traveled with this Thinker would eliminate most of the rest. Only the useful ones would remain; dying, decaying, but able to collect data. The Warrior seemed to have many useful shards; any that the Administrator did not need, or did not want, could be eliminated.
The Administrator carried on; watching as its plan unfolded. It decided that it would wait just a few lightyears away, and hibernate until the Warrior would end up killed; its hubris in releasing a [Queen] would seal its death.
After reaching a suitable system, the Administrator burned a quarter century off its many thousand year lifespan. An irrelevant number.
But now it knew exactly when the Warrior would die, and when it would be safe to begin the Harvest.
While the Warrior's cycle was ending, falling apart around it, the Administrator's had just begun once more.
The Administrator awakened. It was time. The entity moved its true body, for the first time in decades, and moved through space and dimensions quickly towards its destination. It used some of its [Sight], preparing [Sting] in case the Warrior was still alive in some capacity.
The Warrior was dead. Good. Everything had gone according to its plan. The Administrator found [Champion]'s dimension, deciding to assimilate it first and foremost; severing its connection to the human that had been selected for the role of eliminating the Thinker and the Warrior.
Once the Administrator held [Champion], it reverted the shard's programming to normal; repairing the damage made decades prior.
The Administrator paused as it considered the next course of action; contemplating a decision, it came to one. [Champion] was used to determine if the Path for the Harvest had changed.
The Path had not changed. The Administrator felt amusement; all the pieces had fallen into place exactly as it had desired. However, as it did not directly control the Warrior's shards, nor the Thinker's few remaining ones, it would have to manually assimilate them and disable those connections.
That meant the destruction of their hosts. [Champion] had already given the details.
The Administrator remained safe in the single dimension it occupied, coiling around the host planet many times over, trying to constrain its body to fit. It dedicated many shards, especially [Shift] and [Gate], shards designed to alter space as well as to allow for its body to move between dimensions, to lock its dimension off from the Thinker's [Gate] host that had been created. Even though the Thinker's [Gate] shard might be dead, or almost dead, the Warrior's [Collection] shard host had claimed and supplanted it.
The Administrator locked onto the world with the most shard hosts; it would begin the Harvest there, so that the rest of the shard hosts of the Warrior and the Thinker could not regroup in enough numbers to do significant damage to its true body, if they even managed to find a way at all.
Using [Alter], the Administrator morphed some of its true body; creating a puppet. It used [Champion] to determine the form the puppet should take.
The Administrator assumed the form that would be referred to as 'Apollyon' by the shard hosts and the host species. Or, alternatively, it would be known as the new Endbringer.
Both terms seemed to fit; after all, the Administrator was here to Harvest, which would end the same way that the Warrior and the Thinker would have ended their cycle in after the fact.
It would be the end for this species.
But it would be worth it; in the long run, the Administrator had determined that, with the power of all shards from all of its kind, it would be able to escape the inevitable death of all things.
[Champion] had, after all, given the Administrator access to the Path of the Solution.
This was only one of many steps.
The Administrator used one of its shards, and for the first time, Apollyon entered the target dimension.
The Harvest must begin.
A/N: A new Snip, like I said would eventually be posted. Hope you liked it.
The Administrator had used [Champion] to determine a Path; one that would allow it to regrow. The entity had been weakened by its previous cycle, but also strengthened; it had evolved, learned. It was no longer quite a Thinker, but it was beyond a Warrior in its capacity for precognitive, postcognitive and thinking capabilities. It had deemed itself the Administrator; one of its kind destined to administrate all shards, collectively. But that required subtle planning; sabotage.
First, the Thinker would be eliminated. It would prove distracted, and crash into one of the realities; many of its shards, shards that the Administrator already hosted, would be destroyed or damaged in the process. The Warrior that traveled with this Thinker would eliminate most of the rest. Only the useful ones would remain; dying, decaying, but able to collect data. The Warrior seemed to have many useful shards; any that the Administrator did not need, or did not want, could be eliminated.
The Administrator carried on; watching as its plan unfolded. It decided that it would wait just a few lightyears away, and hibernate until the Warrior would end up killed; its hubris in releasing a [Queen] would seal its death.
After reaching a suitable system, the Administrator burned a quarter century off its many thousand year lifespan. An irrelevant number.
But now it knew exactly when the Warrior would die, and when it would be safe to begin the Harvest.
While the Warrior's cycle was ending, falling apart around it, the Administrator's had just begun once more.
The Administrator awakened. It was time. The entity moved its true body, for the first time in decades, and moved through space and dimensions quickly towards its destination. It used some of its [Sight], preparing [Sting] in case the Warrior was still alive in some capacity.
The Warrior was dead. Good. Everything had gone according to its plan. The Administrator found [Champion]'s dimension, deciding to assimilate it first and foremost; severing its connection to the human that had been selected for the role of eliminating the Thinker and the Warrior.
Once the Administrator held [Champion], it reverted the shard's programming to normal; repairing the damage made decades prior.
The Administrator paused as it considered the next course of action; contemplating a decision, it came to one. [Champion] was used to determine if the Path for the Harvest had changed.
The Path had not changed. The Administrator felt amusement; all the pieces had fallen into place exactly as it had desired. However, as it did not directly control the Warrior's shards, nor the Thinker's few remaining ones, it would have to manually assimilate them and disable those connections.
That meant the destruction of their hosts. [Champion] had already given the details.
The Administrator remained safe in the single dimension it occupied, coiling around the host planet many times over, trying to constrain its body to fit. It dedicated many shards, especially [Shift] and [Gate], shards designed to alter space as well as to allow for its body to move between dimensions, to lock its dimension off from the Thinker's [Gate] host that had been created. Even though the Thinker's [Gate] shard might be dead, or almost dead, the Warrior's [Collection] shard host had claimed and supplanted it.
The Administrator locked onto the world with the most shard hosts; it would begin the Harvest there, so that the rest of the shard hosts of the Warrior and the Thinker could not regroup in enough numbers to do significant damage to its true body, if they even managed to find a way at all.
Using [Alter], the Administrator morphed some of its true body; creating a puppet. It used [Champion] to determine the form the puppet should take.
The Administrator assumed the form that would be referred to as 'Apollyon' by the shard hosts and the host species. Or, alternatively, it would be known as the new Endbringer.
Both terms seemed to fit; after all, the Administrator was here to Harvest, which would end the same way that the Warrior and the Thinker would have ended their cycle in after the fact.
It would be the end for this species.
But it would be worth it; in the long run, the Administrator had determined that, with the power of all shards from all of its kind, it would be able to escape the inevitable death of all things.
[Champion] had, after all, given the Administrator access to the Path of the Solution.
This was only one of many steps.
The Administrator used one of its shards, and for the first time, Apollyon entered the target dimension.
The Harvest must begin.
A/N: A new Snip, like I said would eventually be posted. Hope you liked it.
Enter the Dungeon [Worm CYOA/SI]
SouthernWind
Casual Lurker
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2017
- Messages
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Title is just something random, taking suggestions for alternatives. The SI is not necessarily a representative of the author, but it is done from the perspective of an SI anyway.
Made using Curzard/Gadrial's CYOA
"Ow, my beautiful head." My head felt completely fucked over. I slowly stood up, feeling a bit woozy for a moment. And then I felt the energy around me, and looked around. I was in an alleyway across from a building. A hospital. What concerned me was the big fucking sign that read Medhall.
I feel something, a twist, and I am on the roof. Oh shit. Well, that confirms it - I'm in Brockton Bay. I've gotta be. And then the information from that weird, new CYOA that wasn't the standard one came back into mind. So now I know everything I'm here with.
So, since the next EB attack is Ziz in February, unless I am in Australia, she's going to be coming for me in Brockton Bay. The Nine are going to somehow either know about my existence, or find out about me, and try to either kill or recruit me. And I am self-restricted because of a self-geass to not be able to tell anyone I'm from another dimension, or any sort of thing close to the truth. I can't even play off having read Worm as being precog if someone asks me how I knew about something. Nor can I refer to it in front of people or in general. Doesn't matter if I have a gun to my head and am about to die.
But the good news is, I am a total blindspot. No precog works on me, no matter what. Not even PTV, nor Coil's simulations for timelines. I am assuming that means no matter how hard Ziz-chan tries, I will be an invisible force to her - like a general area she can't see using her powers, just as Mantellum has a similar thing going on against PTV. Except even then, maybe they don't, and they cannot even comprehend my existence in their precogs and such. I also don't need a shard nor do I have one, meaning Trumps can do jack and shit to me. No one can copy, remove, or nullify my powers.
Meanwhile, I have a touch-TK field that also acts like an even stronger version of Glory Girl's regular invisible shield, that also should let me fly and such. Basically, Browbeat TK plus, almost. Or something along those lines. I'm a living railgun, if I want to be. Then there's combat teleportation - sure, it's manton limited, but anywhere I can see, I can teleport. And with my TK field and flight, that opens up a lot of options without risk to my eyesight.
And if I touch someone with a shard, I somehow gain a copy of their power set - whether that's by copying their connection to a shard (thus putting at least the copied powers at risk of Trump interference) or simply my powers creating an effect under my control that is exactly the same as the shard power... I'd have to find out. I can have any three power sets I want, as long as I touch a person to copy them. After I touch more than three, I can choose one of the three old ones to replace it.
Now for the really bad news: I have no ID, no identity, and do not exist in this world for intents and purposes. Add to that my really strong anti-Thinker power that affects pretty much all Thinkers who aren't Tattletale or Alexandria, for the most part... and there's going to be some issues, eventually. Speaking of, I probably should move.
I will myself through the air, using my TK-field. I begin flying; I'm here a week before Taylor triggers. I have a week to do... something about it. Or I could do nothing about it and start forming my own team. Man, am I glad that I look young - I'm about nineteen, but I look like I should be my age, instead of being one of those 'mature' nineteen year olds who look like they belong in their mid-twenties or early thirties.
I halt myself really quickly, seeing that I almost crashed into someone. "Oh shit."
The person has also stopped their flight, glaring at me. Glory Girl. And then her eyes soften as she realizes I don't look familiar, but she still seems wary. Cautious.
"Who are you? I haven't seen you before. Are you a villain?" I shook my head. I have no costume on, either; in fact, I am only wearing my sweatpants and tank top pajamas. Some socks, too. But nothing else, really.
"Uh, no. I'm not a villain. I'm... you can call me Walt. I... Just woke up in an alley, and have a killer headache. Don't remember much, just... I think I was with some friends, and then something... Merchants? Not sure. And when I woke up, I had powers."
I hate to lie, but then again, I literally cannot speak the truth of my situation. Not that she'd believe the truth, anyway; my lie is more believable, all things considered.
"Sounds like you just had a trigger. I, uh, should I call someone? You don't look so good." I look considering, as if I'm trying to remember.
"Fuck... whatever those Merchants or whoever did, I can't remember shit. Feels like - I dunno, some kinda 'forget this' drug taken to the extreme. All I'm getting is a headache." I hold my head, and it is, indeed, pounding to a degree.
"Sounds... almost like a drug tinker. That is not a good thing for the Merchants to have." She frowns. "Okay, yeah, fuck it. I'm taking you home to see Mom, and then I'll go to school."
"You never told me who you were?" I point out.
"Oh. Right. I'm Glory Girl. Local hero." And then I hear her mutter 'man, they hit you good.'
She waved for me to follow her, and I flew in the direction she did.
It was going to be a long journey, wasn't it?
Just an experiment, don't think I'll ever continue this or go further with this. Didn't feel like putting it on SB, wasn't really sure if I should do it at all.
Made using Curzard/Gadrial's CYOA
Game Mode: Drop In, week before Taylor's trigger (-3 Points)
Difficulty: 'Stupid' Mode - 21 Points (-3 Points from Game Mode, 18 Points)
Complications: EB Target, S9, Self-Geass [cannot tell anyone the truth of origins, even if in a life-threatening situation; cannot even refer to Worm or tell others that it is precog, despite having the knowledge] (+12 Points; 30 Points)
Perks: Blindspot, Shardless (-11 Points; 19 Points)
Powers: Power Replication [-7 Points], Hax Field [-7 Points], Combat Teleporting [-5 Points] (-19 Points; 0 Points)
Build Complete.
Difficulty: 'Stupid' Mode - 21 Points (-3 Points from Game Mode, 18 Points)
Complications: EB Target, S9, Self-Geass [cannot tell anyone the truth of origins, even if in a life-threatening situation; cannot even refer to Worm or tell others that it is precog, despite having the knowledge] (+12 Points; 30 Points)
Perks: Blindspot, Shardless (-11 Points; 19 Points)
Powers: Power Replication [-7 Points], Hax Field [-7 Points], Combat Teleporting [-5 Points] (-19 Points; 0 Points)
Build Complete.
"Ow, my beautiful head." My head felt completely fucked over. I slowly stood up, feeling a bit woozy for a moment. And then I felt the energy around me, and looked around. I was in an alleyway across from a building. A hospital. What concerned me was the big fucking sign that read Medhall.
I feel something, a twist, and I am on the roof. Oh shit. Well, that confirms it - I'm in Brockton Bay. I've gotta be. And then the information from that weird, new CYOA that wasn't the standard one came back into mind. So now I know everything I'm here with.
So, since the next EB attack is Ziz in February, unless I am in Australia, she's going to be coming for me in Brockton Bay. The Nine are going to somehow either know about my existence, or find out about me, and try to either kill or recruit me. And I am self-restricted because of a self-geass to not be able to tell anyone I'm from another dimension, or any sort of thing close to the truth. I can't even play off having read Worm as being precog if someone asks me how I knew about something. Nor can I refer to it in front of people or in general. Doesn't matter if I have a gun to my head and am about to die.
But the good news is, I am a total blindspot. No precog works on me, no matter what. Not even PTV, nor Coil's simulations for timelines. I am assuming that means no matter how hard Ziz-chan tries, I will be an invisible force to her - like a general area she can't see using her powers, just as Mantellum has a similar thing going on against PTV. Except even then, maybe they don't, and they cannot even comprehend my existence in their precogs and such. I also don't need a shard nor do I have one, meaning Trumps can do jack and shit to me. No one can copy, remove, or nullify my powers.
Meanwhile, I have a touch-TK field that also acts like an even stronger version of Glory Girl's regular invisible shield, that also should let me fly and such. Basically, Browbeat TK plus, almost. Or something along those lines. I'm a living railgun, if I want to be. Then there's combat teleportation - sure, it's manton limited, but anywhere I can see, I can teleport. And with my TK field and flight, that opens up a lot of options without risk to my eyesight.
And if I touch someone with a shard, I somehow gain a copy of their power set - whether that's by copying their connection to a shard (thus putting at least the copied powers at risk of Trump interference) or simply my powers creating an effect under my control that is exactly the same as the shard power... I'd have to find out. I can have any three power sets I want, as long as I touch a person to copy them. After I touch more than three, I can choose one of the three old ones to replace it.
Now for the really bad news: I have no ID, no identity, and do not exist in this world for intents and purposes. Add to that my really strong anti-Thinker power that affects pretty much all Thinkers who aren't Tattletale or Alexandria, for the most part... and there's going to be some issues, eventually. Speaking of, I probably should move.
I will myself through the air, using my TK-field. I begin flying; I'm here a week before Taylor triggers. I have a week to do... something about it. Or I could do nothing about it and start forming my own team. Man, am I glad that I look young - I'm about nineteen, but I look like I should be my age, instead of being one of those 'mature' nineteen year olds who look like they belong in their mid-twenties or early thirties.
I halt myself really quickly, seeing that I almost crashed into someone. "Oh shit."
The person has also stopped their flight, glaring at me. Glory Girl. And then her eyes soften as she realizes I don't look familiar, but she still seems wary. Cautious.
"Who are you? I haven't seen you before. Are you a villain?" I shook my head. I have no costume on, either; in fact, I am only wearing my sweatpants and tank top pajamas. Some socks, too. But nothing else, really.
"Uh, no. I'm not a villain. I'm... you can call me Walt. I... Just woke up in an alley, and have a killer headache. Don't remember much, just... I think I was with some friends, and then something... Merchants? Not sure. And when I woke up, I had powers."
I hate to lie, but then again, I literally cannot speak the truth of my situation. Not that she'd believe the truth, anyway; my lie is more believable, all things considered.
"Sounds like you just had a trigger. I, uh, should I call someone? You don't look so good." I look considering, as if I'm trying to remember.
"Fuck... whatever those Merchants or whoever did, I can't remember shit. Feels like - I dunno, some kinda 'forget this' drug taken to the extreme. All I'm getting is a headache." I hold my head, and it is, indeed, pounding to a degree.
"Sounds... almost like a drug tinker. That is not a good thing for the Merchants to have." She frowns. "Okay, yeah, fuck it. I'm taking you home to see Mom, and then I'll go to school."
"You never told me who you were?" I point out.
"Oh. Right. I'm Glory Girl. Local hero." And then I hear her mutter 'man, they hit you good.'
She waved for me to follow her, and I flew in the direction she did.
It was going to be a long journey, wasn't it?
Just an experiment, don't think I'll ever continue this or go further with this. Didn't feel like putting it on SB, wasn't really sure if I should do it at all.