Abaddon Born(e) - (Worm CYOA)

[PublicLee S.]

Premise: Two and a half well intentioned fools find themselves in the Worm Universe, gifted by Abaddon, the third Entity. In their attempts to save some, they may just doom all. SI based on the Worm CYOA Update Gimel.
Crossposting from Fanfiction.net and SpaceBattles
Without Further Ado

Abaddon Born(e)

A Worm Fanfiction

By PublicLee Speaking and Brownie

Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. I don't own Worm, Wildbow does.
​

Conception Arc 1.1

It started, as too many things do, with screaming.

I came to with blood pounding through my veins, colors dancing in my vision and a sound both similar to, and completely unrelated with, wind whistling past my ears as the sense of falling kickstarted my heart into overdrive. A yell of terror mixed with excitement reverberating around wherever I was sounded oddly familiar. Twisting around, a sea of prismatic light surrounded me, flowing past me as I descended, the strange gale pushing against me and twisting me around. I spotted the source of the sound that woke me, a dark form, partially obscured by the rainbow-colored clouds that we moved through, the figure leaving a comet trail of gold and purple fire behind him as he fell. The royal purple conflagration dancing and intermixing with flames that looked to be flickering and shimmering golden statues of fire, the two intermixing, distinct and separate but moving in tandem.

I tried to approach it, flailing my arms in a swimming motion ineffectively, doing nothing but sending me spinning at nausea inducing angles. As I passed through another cloud, I almost groaned at my stupidity. Dumbass, I'm not swimming, I'm FALLING! Spreading my limbs at an angle to divert airflow worked much better, stopping my spin and setting me slowly drifting my way closer to the person, who had stopped yelling and was now twisting back and forth, drifting with purpose, seemingly aiming for clouds to pass through.

As I drew closer the shape sharpened without intervening clouds, and I realized it was my best friend, Herb, a man who was my opposite in many ways. "Hey!" I yelled when I was couple dozen feet away trying to be heard over the near howling not-wind. Herb, who was casually spinning, jerked and lost control pinwheeling off to the side.

"Holy Shit!" he exclaimed, the sound reaching me as if he was right next to my ear, flailing in an attempt to stop the same unrestrained spirals I had just been in. I drifted closer and tried to grab him to help, getting kneed in the ribs before trapping his leg, letting him rebalance. Pushing off slightly, I moved us so we were roughly face to face.

"Dude, what's going on!" he yelled, causing me to wince.

"Just talk, I can hear you just fine," I responded. "I have no idea, I woke up here!" I continued in a normal tone, trying to keep myself from drifting away, the winds whipping at our faces and clothing as we attempted to keep stable.

"Same here. Wait, are you on fire?" he asked looking just above me, an expression of disbelief written across his features. Turning over in the air to lay on my back I saw that I also had a trail of flame pouring off of me as well, forming a tail of bloody red mixing with purple the same shade as my friend's stream. I wordlessly pointed above him as he turned as well, seeing the track he was leaving with a shout of "Holy shit! That's awesome!" He turned to look at me, grinning. "This is so effing awesome."

"Yeah, until we hit the bottom." I responded, looking down.

"Eh." He shrugged.

We both spun back to look down in this endless sea as we fell, for some indication of what was happening in this endless void.

"So," I said, trying to do something, anything that would let me focus on something other than this endless falling. "Know how we got here?"

He shook his head. "Not a fricken clue. Don't even know where here is. Kinda fun though, like infinite skydiving!"

"Yeah, but diving through what? Is this the Afterlife? Are we dead?"

"Well, if it is, and we're falling, that doesn't say good shit about what's gonna happen, does it?"

"Herb, you wouldn't go to hell. I sure as, well, hell shouldn't be going to hell either," I reasoned.

"Eh, you know I've got people I've got to go pick up from there."

"That's not how hell works you idiot. And you haven't done anything to deserve going there."

"Well, I've worked double-shifts on Sunday, don't particularly care about the dude upstairs, and have coveted the hell out of some of my neighbor's wives, never mind the two people I've killed. That's, like, four strikes right there."

I smacked him on the shoulder, sending him drifting off before he angled himself to drift back. "Dude you didn't actually kill anyone, you work in an old folk's home. So, without that thing which wasn't your fault, if that's all it takes, then everyone's going there." And really, if that's all it took, the only people up top would be babies, idiots, and holier-than-thou jerks.

"Well we are on fire," he commented, waving at the infernos streaking behind us.

I spun around and cautiously put my hands in the flame coming off my chest, feeling nothing there. "Yeah, but it doesn't seem like hellfire. Not that I know what that actually feels like." I spun back looking at him. "Any other guesses?" He shrugged and we went back to try and see what we were falling towards.

"Hey," he commented after a few minutes. "Are we speeding up & slowing down?"

I looked around as we descended, trying to gauge our speed by the clouds we passed. "I don't think so. Maybe? It's kinda hard to tell. I think so, my eyes are starting to water?" I turned my head to the side to stop them from drying, but the feeling only got worse as I turned, even closing them not helping.

"Um, I don't think it's the wind man, your eyes are glowing!" he said, nonplussed, one hand half reaching out to try and help.

I choked out a cry as the pain spiked in my eyes, the prismatic clouds sharpening and defining, turning colors for which I had no name. Unable to close them as I looked around, seeing lines that wove into complex patterns around us, congregating in the clouds, all stemming from a point far below. Hearing a pained sound from Herb I looked seeing him glow as well. As I watched him he flickered in and out of existence, a second, then third copy of him being made as he disappeared and reappeared, each one reacting to the pain in a different way. Each of him grew a glowing shadow, wispy and amorphous, a hidden figure of flame not quite matching his movements.

His copies spread out, each one with a smaller trail that connected to the main flame, twisting into it until the merged into one inferno. I felt a wracking pain as I saw tendrils of my trail extend, almost squid-like, touching his and skimming parts off, merging bits of his golden flame into my red, our purples merging seamlessly.

We continued, spiraling down through that prismatic hell. As I grabbed the original him and we held on to each other as we were wracked with pain, which ratcheted up as the glow around us intensified and we caught fire. The two of us screamed in agony as flesh bubbled and melted. Both of us were obese, and now that fat liquified, skin long burned off, flowing and wrapping around our limbs in in fiery lines of suffering. The pain reached inwards, burning bones and cooking organs for an eternity until it reached our spines, incinerating everything, the only feeling that wasn't pure agony was the feelings of our hands holding each other's arms.

The pain threatened to overwhelm me, coloring every cell with agony as I shuddered and convulsed for an interminable amount of time. I wanted to die, curl up and do whatever it took to make the pain go away. Several times the pain pushed me beyond what I thought I could bear, and then I did. Never sure if this time I'd finally snap and do anything to just make it go away. If it didn't mean I would be leaving Herb here alone, I just might have, but I didn't, though every time I went past my limit I felt like bits of me were breaking off, like a sandblaster to the soul.

Suddenly, and without warning, the pain blew away as if it were never there, leaving us gasping for a moment, blinking away tears. They ache in my eyes remained, but was nothing now that the fire had passed. Looking at my friend it took me a moment to recognize him. Where before he had a, to put it nicely, doughy physique there were instead hard muscles outlined against his sand colored skin, his shirt and pants now flapping greatly in the not-wind as the form they'd contained had shrunk and hardened. Looking at myself I saw the same thing. Where before I had a keg, I now had a washboard, my arms and legs thickened with muscle as well, seemingly rippling with strength.

"Holy Motherfucking Cocksucking Monkey Shit Fuck Suck a Motherfucker that Hurt!" he swore in a continuous stream, before looking at his new physique and uttering a small "damn."

"Heh," I choked out a laugh. "It hurt enough, but at least we'll look good if this is hell." Herb groaning as we plummeted we fell through another rainbow cloud, the vapor streaming past us. On a whim, I reached out and tried to grab a bit of the cloud stuff, hand hooking into the pattern that twisted through it, strands snapping from the pattern and reaching backwards, wrapping around me as the broken lattice flailed before weaving itself back as it was. As it wrapped around me my now loose shirt and pants tightened around, fabric shifting and shrinking to fit my new body type.

"Nope," he disagreed, eyes still clenched from the memory of the pain. "If this was hell it wouldn't have stopped."

Once again came a spike of pain as my flesh glowed, but the pain abated quickly as the glow settled into my skin, light outlining veins as it descended into my core. Herb's light did the exact opposite, branching outward from him in thin tendrils which caught some of the trail of fire coming off of me, but instead of absorbing it, the flame was held in place as Herb's eyes flickered and he gasped, looking around, paying attention to the patterns that flowed around us as his flesh glowed for a moment.

Panting for breath we looked down, seeing the patterns below start tightening towards something at the bottom. A third voice, this one a guttural, horrible laugh came from above us. Looking up we saw a . . . something hurtling down towards us. Whatever it was its coloring was monochrome, entirely done in blacks and greys as it descended. A humanoid figure was at its front with a long tether to the main body, a mass of long questing tentacles originating from a shrouded form reaching long past the figure, it's tail long and thin as it plummeted, laughing horribly as it did so.

It's tentacles, seemingly a mile long, brushed against us, finding no purchase on me, but wrapping around Herb before shuddering and letting go as whatever, or whoever it was streaked past us and quickly dropping out of sight, echoes of that mirthless laughter quickly fading.

We fell after it, the patterns around us tightening closer and closer until at the bottom a tiny well of light peeked out. As we descended a shape around that disk resolved into being, a long serpent, coiled in, around, and seemingly through itself, body studded with hornlike protrusions that glowed and shifted as it laid still, watching the disk.

"I think that's where we're going, and that's a whole lotta nope. Nope. Nope. Nope!" Herb pointed out helpfully, his voice sounding as weary from pain as I felt, looking at our destination with trepidation, fear, and revulsion.

"Hopefully the snake is friendly?" I tried. At his flat look, I got defensive. "What, it could be!"

He shook his head with a murmur of "effin' white people" as we descended.

The closer we got to the disk the larger it grew, from the size of a coin, to a pool, to a lake, and ever larger, putting the creature around it into greater and greater scale. It slithered up slightly, as we approached, head rising above its coils. By the time that we came even with its head, a great thing with far too many eyes, I had a hard time conceiving of how big it was, glancing over to see Herb hiding behind me reciting a constant repeating mantra of "Please don't eat us. Please don't eat us." Looking at it, trying to describe its size, words just could not express. Whatever this thing was, it didn't come from anything close to earth.

Looking at it a name sprang, unbidden to my lips. "Abaddon," I murmured, the name echoing weirdly in the space. Herb glanced at me before looking back at it, the head tracking us as we fell, giving a sense of smug satisfaction as we passed it, settling back down as we hit the disk, passing through a wave of light and leaving that realm of prisms and horror.




The light passed and left us blinking in the darkness, dotted with light. I heard Herb gasp and turned around to look the way he was and had to gasp. Below us stretched a huge sphere, dotted with bits of white, half of it a deep blue, the other half a patchwork of greys, greens, browns & lighter blues. I sighed at the beauty of the sight my breath freeing into crystals in front of me. As I tried to breath in I got something, but not much, panic starting to set in as I realized just how high up we were. The feeling of falling, which had lessened after we passed the barrier, started to pull at us again, dragging us down. I looked at Herb, whose eyes were wide with panic, seeing him mouth "What the fuck?" the sound muted in the thin atmosphere. I shrugged as I looked around, keeping a firm grip on his arm.

Honestly, if we were at a point we could see the curvature of the earth, we should be frozen, but we were fine. Not breathing was going to be an issue, but I knew I'd be able to hold my breath for a good 10 minutes, as would Herb. That certainty of that thought spooked me a little. How did I know this? I should be freaking out. I must be in the Freaking Stratosphere! But I was fine, not even a little cold, though that same certainty told me that if I let Herb go, he'd die. With this Truth in mind I grabbed my belt, now superfluous that my pants fit me exactly, and wound it around our arms, cinching it tight. At his look I tried to tell him "Don't let go!" I wasn't sure if he heard me, but he looked at our tied arms and nodded vigorously.

We picked up speed as we fell, the muted sound of air increased the farther we went, going faster and faster with no sign of stopping. As we traveled I realized that we weren't going in at a nice slow entry, whatever had dropped us off had done so geosynchronously so we were falling straight down. As this panicked thought passed through my head Herb waved his had in my face to get my attention. Pointing at the horizon I followed his finger, not seeing anything, until my eyes burned for a second, highlighting a halo of . . . something. Staring at it, our changing position quickly altered our perspective, outlining the figure not against the white of the horizon, but the black of space.

The figure wasn't that far off, and appeared to be almost angelic. A pale woman, with long platinum hair. She appeared to be naked, but had covered herself with three long silvery-white wings that extended from back, a large number of other wings extended out from her. The wings were irregularly sized and spaced, something I'd never seen in depictions of angels. It pulled at my memory, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen something like her.

Turning back to Herb I shrugged. So we're somewhere with angels. That's cool. My friend though was wide eyed and shaking in fear, looking between me and her. I looked back and noticed she seemed to be staring at us. Well, not us exactly, she seemed to be staring at Herb, who seemed to be trying to hide behind me. I mouthed a "Sorry" to the angel and turned my back to her, cocking an eyebrow at my friend. Moving to his ear to be heard above the ever-increasing sound of wind I yelled "What's wrong". He looked at me as if I was crazy. He yelled something that I couldn't quite make out. "Smurfs?" I asked.

He grabbed my head and brought my ear to his mouth. "SIMURGH!" he screamed. I stopped and turned back to the being that was intently staring at Herb. Silver coloring. Check. Irregular wings. Check. Hangs out in low earth Orbit and would know where just to be to see something unexpected popping in. Double check.

If the Simurgh was here then this meant that we were in Worm, the grimdark superhero story which I skimmed and Herb hadn't finished reading yet. The story that would result in the destruction of every earth if everything didn't go exactly right, and would still result in the deaths of hundreds of millions, and the suffering of tens of BILLIONS.

Well, Fuck.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.2

Looking at the Endbringer, the psychic kaiju that was arguable the worst of the three, casually stare at us was certainly an unsettling experience. As Herb continued to hide behind me, my eyes prickled and I no longer saw just her, but a corona of silver and white energy surrounding her, extending in crystalline patterns, thousands of threads of incandescence extended down to the world below, blanketing the planet in a thick weave. Several threads of what I realized were her powers extended towards us, not aggressively, but cautiously, questing for something. Herb's terrified whimpering hit a higher pitch as they reached us while we fell farther and farther away from her. I felt part of myself reaching out to meet it, trying to do, something, but I got the sense of slipperiness, of trying to grab onto something that I knew was there, but not being able to even touch.

The probes of power continued closer, passing through me as without pausing before softly wrapping around Herb, who had now risen to a pitch that only dogs would be able to hear. I jerked in surprise, our connected arms twisting him slightly, and the bindings on my friend broke instantly, the threads waving around, slowly gaining a hold on him until I moved him, which freed him instantly. Looking back up, she was just a speck of white on the rapidly lightening skies as we descended farther and farther, the massive network of energy spreading from her vanishing as I lost track of her.

"So," I yelled to be heard over the wind. "That happened. She didn't scream or show us messed up memories or anything, so we should be fine." I turned to look at him as he patted at his chest, trying to feel the threads of power that were even now probably trying to re-attach to him. "You know what this means right?"

He looked up at me, wide eyes watering from the wind. "I've been Ziz'd?"

I shook my head. "No you haven't, but that's not the point. The point is we're in Worm!"

"That's awesome!"

"No it isn't!" I insisted.

"There's all this great stuff that's going to happen!" he yelled excitedly.

All I could do was stare it him in disbelief. "Have you read the fucking book!?!"

He shrugged, "Yeah I have. Oh, first things first," he said, holding up a finger imperiously as we plummeted.

I wondered at what exactly he was thinking. While I tended to weather chaos through planning and understanding, he tended to surf the waves of uncertainty to get where he wanted to go, many times messing up my plans in the process. Both of us however, tended to get caught up in the moment. "What?" I finally asked, as he had fallen silent.

"Ah," he responded. "Now I'm not gonna tell you 'cause you're not gonna let me do it."

We didn't have time for this. "What is it?" I asked again, trying to keep the aggravation from my tone, hoping to get this over with quickly so we could turn back to the more pressing matter of the ground far, far below us.

"No," he stubbornly insisted. "Not gonna tell you 'cause you're not gonna let me do it."

"I might if I knew what it was," I reasoned. "And either way I will probably mess up your plans with plans of my own. It happens all the time."

He laid his free hand on my shoulder & looked me in the eye. "Okay. We gotta stop Taylor's Trigger event. We gotta go to the school. We gotta save that poor girl."

"Yes!" I responded instantly. "God yes!" Stopping that girl from experiencing the worst day in her life was something I could get behind. That's what he was worried about? I thought. Technically though, he was right, as I considered about what doing so would have meant. If it never happened, her powers would never activate because of her Trigger event, and then world was fucked. In retrospect, I would have stopped him. "But, can we wait like 30 seconds later, so she has the Trigger and then we get her out and get her help immediately so she's not in there for fucking hours? But she still gets the power which may let her, you know, save the world?" I hoped he'd see that I was right.

He sighed, looking down before turning his attention back to me as we continued to fall. "Alright. Only, only. . ." he trailed off.

I waved to the sun coming over the horizon, sending light and cloud caused streaks of shadow to play over the ground far below us. "It's like, dawn. We should have a couple of hours to get down, find the school, and get in position to pull her out after her Trigger happens. Plenty of time."

He nodded, "What I'm saying is-"

"We have time!" I insisted. The wind howled louder, but my hearing had been sharpened along with my physique, and I could still pick out his shouted words.

"What I'm sayin is," he repeated loudly. "Only if you buy breakfast."

I looked at him for a moment, the words coming up before I thought to stop them. "Damn you're cheap." Before panic kicked my brain into gear. "I mean deal, we get breakfast, that should take long enough to let us get where we need to go. Yes, no, right, we get there in time to pull this off and-" I stopped at his thoughtful gaze. "What?"

"Nevermind," stated dismissively. "I don't want breakfast."

It wasn't like him to let go of something like that. "Whhhhyyyyyyy?" I drew out the question, full of suspicion.

He looked at me, all emotional control leaving him as he yelled "BECAUSE WE'RE GONNA DIE!" pointing at the quickly approaching ground.

"Yeah. Right. So. That. Right. Yeah. Okay." I rallied, turning my attention to the much closer ground. "So, I'm 99% sure we have powers."

"Cool," he said in a strained voice, looking down, before shrugging and thrusting his hand out in front of him. Nothing happened. "Nope, don't have powers."

"Okay, look how buff we are, and also, we're in the middle of re-entry and not burning up. We have superpowers." We just don't know how to use them yet.

Herb looked at himself again, using his free hand to squeeze his now muscular abs, bicep, and pecs. A thoughtful look on his face he grabbed his pants, oversized as they were and flapping with the force of re-entry, and pulled them out for a second, letting them go to be once again plastered against his front by the force of the wind. "You're right. I can see it."

"T.M.I. man!" I spluttered. "Let's focus on what's important." Seeing his raised eyebrow I added. "What's important right now!"

"Just sayin'," he responded unrepentantly. "It's the first time I've seen it in a while without effort."

I love him like a brother I thought but his priorities need work. "I didn't need to know that man. My point is, remember that Choose Your Own Adventure thing we did a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the power that we both chose?" I insisted. Looking down, we were definitely going to hit somewhere north of Massachusetts. We needed to get a handle on this quickly.

"The power copying thing?" he asked.

"Yes. No. Kind of. Different." I tried to answer him as quickly as I could. "No, We both got that but in different ways. No, we both got the thing, best shape ever, the thing keeps us in ideal physical condition, hence the new bods."

"Ooooh, yeah. Okay. And?" he said, eyeing the coming ground.

"I got temperature resistance, and you copy powers if they're close, so we both got it, hence the lack of freezing in space or burning now. That means you also got the power that lets you make Stands." I explained further at his look of confusion. "That projection thing, which itself can turn into animals, like a giant fucking dinosaur bird. You make it, it changes, we fly down to safety & Bob's your uncle."

"But Bob isn't my uncle," he said, straight-faced.

"You know what I mean, so summon the thing and keep us from hitting the ground, since neither of us have anything that's gonna let us survive this fall!" I practically screamed as individual building could now be made out. We were falling towards a port city, but I wasn't sure if we were going to hit the port, or the city. Either way, it was going to be bad.

Herb stuck his hands out, pulling along my arm as my belt still bound us together. Nothing happened. He tried the webslinging pose. Nope. He tried some wrestling looking strongman thing. Nada. Twisting his nipples. Still nothing. He smacked the inside of his elbow for a second before muttering. "No, it isn't heroin."

"Dude, maybe think about making another you. No, wait, that might do something else. Make another you that isn't you!"

He nodded and started drawing on his hand with his finger.

"What are you doing?" I cried, now making out boats in detail. It looked like we were gonna hit the bay, but at this speed it would be like hitting concrete. Dear god we're gonna die. Picking the Worst Day Ever drawback wasn't worth the points!

"I'm making a mini-me to summon, like that show with the blonde kid in orange." He explained, not stopping.

"That's the Ninja Hand-signs! Do those!" I corrected him, demonstrating, as he copied them as we drew ever closer. Still nothing. "Aren't your powers telling you how to use them?" I cried.

"You know what they are telling me?" he replied angrily.

"No?" I asked. We really didn't have time for this shit.

"THAT WE'RE GONNA FUCKING DIE!" He screamed as I grit my teeth to prepare for the impact, twisting to impact on my side like you're supposed to, and dragging him to mirror me.

A fraction for a second before we hit something flashed in front of us, something humanoid that distorted into something large, hitting the water right before us, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. After that there was a lot of tumbling and darkness as we twisted down, trying to figure out which way was up, before seeing the sunlight far above us, half swimming, half dragging Herb to the surface as he tried to do the same for me.

We burst to the surface, gasping for air and trying to keep our heads above the waves. My entire right side throbbed from where I hit, though not as much as I would have expected, as I turned to look at Herb. "Holy shit!" I cried, in pain and relief. "We survived!"

"Yeah," he agreed wincing. "Oooowww. At least the water took care of our trail."

"Trail?" I asked as we started to make for the shore, large concrete docks being the closest thing with rusted metal latter inset into them, staining the created rock they were sunk into.

"Yeah," he said as we swam. "There might have been a little trail of pee following us down, but, like, we're in the ocean, which everything pees in, so it's okay."

I couldn't help but laugh. "That was the least of our concerns man, the least of our concerns."

He sighed as we continued, "And I wish I had another pair of underwear. Though being in the ocean after all that falling feels oddly freeing, ya know?"

Something about that statement struck me as strange, so I glanced over at him, seeing his now bare shoulders. "Um. Herb. Where's your shirt?"

He glanced down, thoughtful. "I think it got torn off when we landed."

It was hard to see in the morning light of the bay but I had to ask. "Did you keep your pants at least?"

He paused for a second, one of his hands disappearing under the water. "Oh, that explains the freedom."

No. It couldn't be. "Herb, are you naked?"

He shook his head, "Naw." Oh good. "I'm still wearing socks and shoes." Damnit.

We got a bit closer. "So, I think we're in New Hampshire, so this might be Brockton Bay."

"God Damnit, that sucks."

"Brockton Bay?" I asked.

"No, New Hampshire"

"What's wrong with New Hampshire?"

"Nothing, but it explains why everything goes to shit here." He commented, starting to swim towards the shore again.

"How?"

"You wouldn't understand." He dismissed.

Oh, that is such a cop-out. "We'll talk about this later," I promised.



Several minutes of awkward swimming later we reached the rusted latter, which came apart in our hands, dumping us back in the water, forcing us to swim further until we found a ramp we flopped onto, laying on our backs looking straight up, taking in the fact that we were alive.

As we lay there the scent of the docks, of sea, rust, and rot washed over us, the seaside breeze varying the levels of the smells as it blew back and forth. "So," I said, deliberately not looking at my friend. "First order of things, get you some clothes."

"Why?" he asked looking over. "Why should I hide it?"

"I have no idea how to take that statement."

"My muscles. Why should I hide it," he clarified.

I sighed. "Herb, muscles are plural, why should I hide them is correct. I thought you were talking about something else.

"No, that too."

"Damnit Herb, I don't have time for this." I sat up, undoing the belt which held us together as we plummeted and looping it back through my strangely undamaged cargo pants. "One, naked people are generally arrested, or worse. Two, yo-"

"Can I say something?"

"Yeeeeeeesss?" I drew out, waiting for the next non-sequitur.

"We're alive, and met the fucking Simurgh, and we're alive."

I sighed, completely understanding him. "Yeah, and if you weren't naked I'd hug you or something, so let's get some clothes."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement. "No homo."

"Yeah, sure, let's go with that," I told him as I helped him up. Looking around I saw we made it to one of the abandoned docks, and hitting the water right between those concrete peninsulas was threading the proverbial needle considering we started from space. Looking at the rusting exposed steel and occasional bits of glass I was happy that his shoes had survived the fall.

Walking inside an abandoned warehouse to try to find our way towards somewhere we could find him clothes we were interrupted. Halfway through it we heard raucous voices as four people walked in what I could only describe as hobo-gangsta' chic. The colors clashed, even on each individual person, they were dirty, with holes and unidentifiable stains, and everything was at least one size too big, except the girl's top, which had the opposite problem. They stopped talking as soon as they saw us, three guys and a girl. The others looked at the tallest guy in the group, lanky and ethnic, but not in any discernable way. Out of all them, he had the most plastic colored armbands, like the type people used to wear for cancer awareness, and it was this detail that made the least sense to me. I knew it had to mean something, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what.

He looked at us uncertainly, before rallying as he walked closer to us, stopping nine feet away from us with his followers half following, half hiding behind him, fear flitting across their faces. Why would they do that? It kinda bothered me, I've never had anyone act openly scared of me before and it was an odd experience. I looked over at Herb, and his professional-wrestler level physique before it clicked. Right, we're ripped, and he's naked. No matter how you look at this, this is weird. I opened my mouth to ask them where we could get some clothes, hopefully my wallet had survived the fall, but I was interrupted before I could even start.

"How much?" he asked, to his followers' hesitant laughter. How much? I thought. How much for what?

Herb looked confused for a second, before he rolled his eyes, sashaying closer and saying with a pronounced lisp "Oh Baby, Oh Baby, for this?" before he dropped to a dead serious tone. "Go fuck yourselves, I'm not cheap."

"You're also not a whore Herb." I felt compelled to remind him.

He turned his back to the spluttering thug. "I'm just saying, even if I would, not for them. They look cheap as shit."

Seeing the leader's mouth open in disbelief, and now being close enough to smell the stink of cheap weed on him, I had to add, "Okay, I understand not them, his teeth look rot to hell, and that can't be hygenic, but wait, nevermind, not the issue here man!"

The tall guy, reached inside the front of his pants and pulled out a knife. Where was he keeping that? I couldn't help but wonder. "Fuck you, give us all your money and maybe we won't fuck you up!"

I just stared. "What money? He's naked! I know drugs rot your brain but they shouldn't make you blind." I remembered there was a druggie gang that in Brockton Bay, but I couldn't remember their name. "I mean, he might have hid it up his ass, but I don't think you'd want to search for it. Or maybe you would, I don't judge, but it's pretty unlikely."

Herb nodded. "No he's gay as fuck, he did ask for how much," he reminded me.

I nodded sagely back, "True."

The leader waved his knife between us, trying to take control of the situation. "Fuck you, getting a blowjob ain't gay, it-"

"Yes it is." I interrupted. His three followers had grabbed rusty pieces of metal from the ground, but looked hesitant about using them as their leader faltered. "If it's from a guy, it's like the definition of gay."

Herb shook his head sadly, "Oh my god dude. Me just giving you a kiss is gay. Just sayin', it's gay. You like kissing guys. It's not your fault, and it's not wrong. You like kissing guys. Admit your gay you tall ass tweak." he finished with a half shrug. "Just get some Diana Ross clothing and work that shit."

"Diana Ross?" I asked, cutting off the leader as he opened his rotting mouth.

"Yeah, Diana Ross, the big wig, the long dress, the sequins, the tall heels, the makeup, looked kinda guy-ish, gays really liked her."

"Was she trans?"

"Nah, but she kinda looked it. You know: 'Stop! In the name of love!'. Her."

I nodded. "Oh, her, yeah, I kinda see it a little."

"Oh fuck you!" the thug shouted, jumping forward to stab Herb with the knife, only to have it taken from him as his target side stepped, grabbing the guy's wrist and twisting it with a loud cracking sound, the clatter of the dropping knife happening at the same time as the thug's "oof" of breath as Herb smacked him dead in the chest before grabbing him by the face, jumping in the air and forcing the thug down with a cry of "RKO!"

I looked at him. "Is that a wrestling move?"

He gave me a chagrined smile as he stood up, the thug whimpering on the ground. "Yeah. I know kung-fu."

I turned to look at the thug's followers, frozen in fear. "I also know kung fu." I commented.

"And To Wong Foo," Herb added. "So if you want to get all dressed up and not, you know, against gays like this self-hating bitch, just sayin'. I mean, I just whooped his ass and now I don't feel threatened whatsoever."

The female of the group, a medium sized girl who was probably blond yelled "We'll fuckin' get you!" before turning on her heel and running, the other two following.

We turned to the now unconscious leader as I glanced at Herb. "Well, they won't fit great, but we found clothes. You might not want the underwear though."

We quickly claimed his possessions, his wallet, while thick, was filled mostly with ones. "Who does that?" I asked. "Does he work as a delivery driver or something."

Herb stared at me for a second before shaking his head. "It's for shitty strip clubs. It's dark and they don't see that all the bills your stuffing down her bra are ones."

"What? That's. Um. Okay? Not my realm of expertise." I conceded. The clothing didn't quite fit Herb, but the thug's propensity for oversized clothing helped even everything out in that respect. Checking the money, it looked the same as what I had in my wallet, so the cash I had on my wallet was still good, and would be enough for food, some basic supplies, and a night or two at a hotel. Looking at my bright red t-shirt and urban camo I couldn't help commenting out loud. "Wish the others tried something, I could have worn one of their sweatshirts and blended in better."

With that my shirt rippled and shifted, extending out and up, forming into a dark red hoodie that still fit me. "Holy shit!" Herb commented. "How does that work?"

I stared at it for a second, and as I did, I felt a familiar feeling in my eyes as slowly shifting lines appeared on my clothing. Concentrating on wearing a t-shirt again, the patterns started curling inwards, the fabric shifting and pulling themselves into a purple t-shirt, another thought formed a sanguine fleur-de-lis. I shifted it into a dark blue hoodie, adding lime green polka-dots instead of the flower to match the garishness of my friend's new threads. "I grabbed one of the clouds in that. . . other place. I think it bonded with my clothing. And maybe me. No idea how it works."

"That's not fair. You got instant wardrobe, and I ended up naked."

"We can find a store to get you underwear while we walk." I told him, heading out the way the followers fled, but turning in the opposite direction. "So, do you remember what I was talking about the Choose Your Own Adventure thing we did. The one where you had the 'If you were dropped into this world, what powers and stuff would you want? We did one for GoT, and a mystic apartment, and the derelict space-station as well."

"Yeah dude, but that was like, a bullshit what-if thing. I didn't know this," he waved at our surroundings, "was gonna fucking happen."

"I didn't either. But it looks like we're here. Do you remember your powers?"

"I think so," he hazarded. "I can copy other powers, I got the thing that makes me buff, and I can make the thing that helps me. I just don't know how."

"The copy thing has a range of five meters from the source of the power, and you can also make a copy of yourself, though that one seems to be recharging or something." I told him, eyes warm as I stared at the gold and purple phantom flames that licked his form when I concentrated, seeing his powers and Knowing them, on a soul-deep level. "And you can make another person/thing that helps and has its own powers, but I can't remember what you picked other than the animal shape one, maybe later, my head's still spinning a bit. I can't tell you for sure until I see it." Herb nodded, pushing his hand out to try to summon it as we walked to no avail. "I've got the Peak Condition power like you, Power Sight, which lets me tell you what you have, Immunity to heat and a few other things, and power copying, but the better version from yours that cost a ton more. You have powers that are near you till the person leaves. If I see a person use a power, I get a copy of it, forever. Only restriction is, the power has to have a physical effect."

"Dude, that's broken." He commented, looking at me in disbelief.

I shook my head. "With what's coming, not really. I'll need everything to take down the Golden Man. Besides, it wouldn't have stopped me breaking every bone in my body when I hit the ground."

Herb stopped, turning me to face me with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, Scion? He's cool. He cures cancer and fights endbringers and shit. Like, he's got some beef with Eidolon, but he's good."

"Herb, how far have you actually read Worm?" I asked, trying to gauge how badly he was going to respond to what I had to tell him.

"The Undersiders kicked Dragon's multiple assess and Coil told them to lay low, which is complete bullshit. Then there was the interlude with Armsdick." Armsdick? It fits I mused.

"We don't have time for the long version, short version, Scion isn't human, talks to Jack Slash, and then decides to destroy Earth. All of them. In every reality."

My friend stood in shock, looking at me. "Well. Shit."

I nodded, turning around and continued walking down the street towards where a corner store was opening. Waving in what I hoped was friendly manner to the guy opening the security grate. After a moment Herb walked up next to me. "So, power copying might be needed."

I laughed. "Thing was, I wanted to make it even more broken. I'm limited to powers with observable effects. I thought I could chain it with Power Sight to get around that, as I could see the power activating, and copy it that way. It either doesn't work that way, or like your Stand power, it's taking longer because It's a Second Trigger power."

"Like Grue?" he asked, as we waited for the shop owner to finish.

"Yeah, but since we got our powers all at once, it might be more like a double trigger like Taylor's bug control. Thing is, that might be taking longer to kick in because of it. I've tried to copy your copy power when I saw you copy my Immunity, but got nothing from it. Sorry for that by the way. I'm pretty sure the threads from Ziz were her brainwashing, and I got nothing from that either."

"Right, that was fucking weird. Why didn't they touch you? And how could you break them?"

"Ziz's brainwashing normally gets screwed up by other precognitives. She's blind to the present, but sees the past and future. Precog's change their actions in the present which ripple out to change the future she sees, making them disrupt her powers. Sometimes."

"What do you mean sometimes. And you didn't say you had precog powers."

"Nah, I got something better. I'm a Blindspot."

"What the hell's a blindspot?"

"It means I'm immune to ANY precog. I'm right up there with Goldie and the Endbringers when it comes to that shit. That means, I do ANYTHING that affects someone's programming and I screw up Ziz's plans. She couldn't even see me right next to you."

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "That's awesome!"

I winced, holding up a hand and waving it back and forth. "Yes and no. It also means that if I make too many waves, all the precogs on the side of the guys trying to save the world also get all their plans wrecked. That's why I need to get stupid powerful and do this shit myself, because just by being here, I've probably already fucked up the plan to save the world."

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.3

"That's some heavy shit dude," Herb uttered at my declaration.

"Yeah, if my being here fucks up their Path to Victory, I just need to make my own. Preferably one that saves way more people than the canon ending."

"How many die there?" he asked with trepidation.

"Little more than half the cast. Civilian deaths, over ten Billion." I informed him, starting to walk towards the door to the corner store.

"Wait. Wait. Hold the fuck up!" Herb said, stopping and pinning me with a disbelieving stare. "Billion. With a B? That's more then everyone on earth!"

"This earth, or our old earth. You fight a multidimensional entity, you take losses across dimensions. Even then, world's pretty fucked up by the end. It's effectively knocked back to the Dark Ages, with capes as warlords. That's why we need to get a path to victory on our own. Step one: get you some underwear."

I started walking off again as he followed, going "No, no no, you don't drop that on a motherfucker and then go buy fucking underwear!"

I smiled amused at being the other end of our dynamic. I could see why he did it. This was fun. "Pretty sure I am."

"You don't just say 'hey, the world's gonna end unless we save it.' and then walk away!" he ranted, dropping his voice to a whisper as we entered the store. I nodded to the tan skinned man behind the glass screen on the counter as my friend continued. "I thought this was gonna be all 'let's chill out, be supervillains, and have fun.' Not save the freaking world!"

"And fight the Endbringers," I added casually, looking for clothing. They had a small selection, shrink-wrapped packs of socks and t-shirts. Glancing at him I grabbed a pack of the 2XL shirts. He'd need them more for muscle mass then weight.

"What do you mean fight Endbringers!" he hissed. "I can't even use my powers right!"

I stopped and looked at him. "You really don't remember what you picked, do you? We're both gonna be Endbringer Targets. When Leviathan hits here in May, we gotta fight him. We don't have to win, just survive. Besides it's the S9 you really have to worry about in the beginning of June."

He grabbed my shoulders. "What. Did. You. Do?"

I chuckled. I realized how screwed we were as soon as we got here, but I think he got swept up with the re-entry thing. Understandable, but we needed to get past this quickly. Like a band-aid being ripped off, but way worse. Still the same principle I thought. "I didn't do anything. You're the one who picked the downsides. Beginning of June, the Slaughterhouse Nine will be recruiting. Two of the nominations are you and me. That's gonna be way harder since they'll be hunting us specifically. I'd take a Kaiju fight with assistance of all the major heroes over that shit. You read that part, you know what happens. The dumbass PRT didn't pull out the big guns until the city was already in the middle of a genetically engineered prion plague."

I finally found the underwear and turned to my friend. "I do have bad news though."

He looked at me in desperation. "What? What could be worse than any of that."

"They only have pink underwear," I told him, holding up the package.

He stared dumbly at the package before breaking down into laughter. "Um, are you okay man? Should I get these?"

"No, fuck that, I'll go commando." He gasped between guffaws. "It's just too much."

I felt kinda bad. Maybe this straight-faced dropping information thing needed more skill than I thought. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's okay. Yeah, I did choose that, it does make things better. Winning easily is way too boring, it's the journey that matters." He took several deep breaths, centering himself. "Okay, I'm good. What else did I get?"

"We both picked up Rough Start, I got two out of a max of three, you went all for the max, so you're gonna end up in debt, homeless, and a social outcast pretty fast. I'm probably just homeless, maybe in debt somehow, which considering neither of us officially exist, is kinda automatic. We both picked up two out of three of Worst Day Ever, and all three means the world is out to get you." I counted off.

"Um, Simurgh, re-entry, jumped by Merchants?" He asked. "How is that not all three?"

Merchants, that's what they're called! "We've gotten downtime," I motioned around at the store. "and we didn't hit the ground. Still sucks, could be worse. Lastly, we'll be very minor Case 53's, though that hasn't kicked in yet. You get vampire teeth and my irises should go prismatic. Might happen when we get our second triggers." I walked to the counter, grabbing a pair of shades and two bottles of water. Paying for everything with my liberated one-dollar bills, I saw the owner looking wary of Herb. "Don't worry about it him," I said, slipping him a few extra bucks. "We've just had a really bad day."

We walked out with our purchases in a bag, and hadn't taken more than three steps we heard a woman yell "It's them! Those are the assholes who jumped C-dog!" looking down the street I saw the three followers of the sexually repressed thug we'd counter-mugged pointing at us to a guy Herb's size, along with several others.

Herb, hearing this, broke into giggles. "What?" I asked, seeing that the followers and new guys all had knives, the big guy wearing fancy brass knuckles.

My friend held up a hand as the group approached. "The guy we beat is called C-dog!" he burst into more laughter.

The girl who singled us out shoved her chin forward in what she probably thought was an aggressive gesture. "Yeah, what of it dead meat!"

Herb had now progressed to full on wheezing. "The guy who wanted me to suck his dick, C-dog, is cock hound! That's amazing!" A couple of the new guys started giggling as well. Apparently, C-dog had a rep, and no one made the connection to his name.

"Fuck you, no one jumps Merchants on their territory! You're gonna die!" she shrieked, running at Herb with her knife extended. She was focused on her target she never saw me grab her knife hand, striking her in the temple with my other hand, dropping her instantly.

I turned to the others, who weren't looking happy anymore. "I don't know what she told you but-"

"Hey, he hit T-back, fuck him!" one of the new guys yelled, running at me with his own knife, the rest of the gang following him.

"T-back, Seriously?" I asked, dodging backwards as Herb, still smiling, swept a leg to trip the guy trying to stab me, the Merchant falling and stabbing himself in the arm as he fell.

With that the others were on us, thankfully none of them really knew how to use their knives, but that didn't stop them from being dangerous. Herb and I fought back to back, doing well, but when I dodged one slash the leader chose that moment to strike, his metal clad fist swinging out. I tried to dodge that too, but took it the ribs, the impact sending me sprawling towards one the others, twisting to avoid his knife and catching him with an arm as I fell, rolling out and up to get back on my feet, in time to see the leader swing for Herb's unprotected head as he grappled with two others, both my friend's hands busy holding off their weapons.

I got a call of "Behind you!" off before seeing a flicker of something, obscured by the leader's body. There was a sharp crack of breaking bone, but instead of my friend going down with a broken skull, it was the leader who fell, not just down but backwards a dozen feet, dropping on one of his cronies. Herb twisted one of the guys he was fighting into another's stab, then spun, kicking the stabber in the head before glancing at the downed leader. "Um, that wasn't me," he said, dodging another stab, kneeing his attacker in the gut before chopping him on the back of the neck.

"If you say so," I responded, taking the knife off one of the last attackers and using the base to smack the thug in the back of the head, dropping him.

"I do!" Herb insisted, taking a step towards the last guy who took off running. My friend gave the fleeing Merchant a considering look, before shaking his head.

I walked over to the fallen leader, wondering how hard he was hit. It looked like he tried to headbutt a bull; his nose was smashed flat, he was missing teeth, though I wasn't sure if that was from the blow, and his entire face appeared to be one large bleeding bruise. Leaning down I put a finger to his neck, the heavy heartbeat telling me that he wasn't dead, just out cold. I propped him up so that he wouldn't choke on his own blood, confiscating his brass knuckles and his wallet as I did so. Standing, wiping the blood on my pants, which promptly disappeared, I turned back to Herb, who was crouching down, taking the cash from the wallets of the now unconscious Merchants. "You hit him pretty hard." I called.

He looked up, eyebrows raising at the distance, "I said I didn't do it."

"So something else punched him so hard he flew back several yards, knocking him out."

"Obviously," he responded with surety. "I don't punch that hard, besides, he deserved it, trying to sucker punch. . . I didn't do it."

"Superpowers," was my response.

"Yeah, didn't do it. You cannot prove this in a court of law."

"Whatever," I relented, helping him search their wallets and grab their crash. On the bright side, a life of organized crime seemed to mean that the people we were searching had far more cash than I would ever be comfortable carrying. Finding a gift card for a coffee shop called the MaHotma Grindy I called my friend, laughing as I held it up. "Should we take these too?"

He shook his head. "Nah man, that shit can be tracked. Cold hard cash only, unless you got someone that can hack that shit."

"I don't want to know how you know that," I commented, turning back to my self-appointed task.

He humphed. "I watch the news, it's not always experience. Racist."

I dropped the now cashless wallet on a different unconscious thug and looked at him with a deadpan look. "It usually is."

He opened his mouth to rebut my point, stopping and nodding. "Usually," he agreed.

After searching the last guy, and tossing his wallet on the guy next to him, I looked up to see the shop owner staring at us. Walking towards the door he frantically reached under the counter, pulling out a pistol, not pointing it at me, just showing that he had it. I grabbed my bag of purchases from where I'd left it by the door, and gave him a friendly wave, turning around and walked away. "We should go," I told my friend, who was trying to suppress an amused grin and failing.

"Yeeeeah, we're making a great impression," he agreed, turning and walking with me. I opened the package of shirts and held onto his now slightly more blood-stained jacket as he put one on. "Oh, that feels better," he moaned. As he was putting the jacket back on, he asked. "Why were you dropping the wallets on different people?"

"Takes 'em longer to figure out, and while we might not be taking cards, they might, then blame each other, and maybe blame each other even if they didn't have any cards, who knows?" I sighed. "Those guys are assholes, if it takes an extra couple seconds to screw with 'em, why not?"

We counted our newfound wealth as we walked, easily coming in with over a thousand dollars each. "Ya know," Herb commented, "For this place, we're not doing bad."

I bobbed my head in agreement. "We've only been here half an hour and already have couple grand."

"And a few fights," he added.

I looked at him, wondering if his new muscles were going to his head. "I wouldn't count that as a positive. We have Abaddon shards, that means they aren't pushing us to seek conflict."

He shrugged. "I don't have to be pushed to have fun in a fight."

"But the risk-" I started.

"Is part of what makes it fun," he finished.

I rolled my eyes. "Regardless, we've made more than enough to find someplace to stay for the night."

"And we've put the fear of god in the local ragtag." He grinned proudly. "We're gonna make great villains!"

I stumbled, turning as we walked and crossing my arms in negation. "I, n-, no. I'm gonna be a hero!"

He nodded. "A hero villain."

I tried to figure out what he meant with that oxymoron. "You mean like a vigilante?"

"No," he told me. Apparently, I completely misunderstood. "Those people are stupid."

When he didn't explain I went ahead correcting him. "No, I'm gonna save the world. That makes me a hero, by definition."

"Yeah," he agreed. "We're gonna save the world, as we make money, and profit by kicking ass."

I held my palm aloft in a questioning gesture. "I don't get how that makes us villains in the slightest."

"Yeah," he agreed again, not answering my question at all. "'cause everyone has to pay."

I nodded. "Yeah, sometimes literally. Cops and the army get paid. The Protectorate gets paid. You do a job, you get rewarded for doing so. I'm not sure why that's even a point that needs to be brought up." With that matter settled we looked around. We had been walking aimlessly, trying to find, well, anything really. I was pleasantly surprised when we came out of an alley and saw a run-down shopping center. It looked about as well kept as everything in this area, dirty with peeling paint, but people were walking around and it seemed open for business. As we got closer I saw there was a bit of a bottleneck to get it, with two guys about the same size as the Merchant leader with the brass knuckles, that now was a comforting weight in my pocket, at the entrance, giving out yellow armbands to everyone as they walked in. The two themselves wore several armbands, some of them doubles. "Hopefully they'll have underwear in here," I commented as we moved closer, passing him one of the water bottles I'd bought, drinking from mine.

Herb nodded, looking at the armbands in thought. "Yeah, I don't mind swinging free, but it'd be nice. And maybe we could get something to eat. That greasy food place, what was it called?"

I wracked my memory to try to figure out what he meant. "Hooters?" I hazarded.

"No, the other place."

"Fuddruckers?"

"No, the other place. Buttfuckers."

I made the connection. "You mean Fugly Bob's. No, that's at the market. It's open air, not this," I waved to what I was starting to think was actually a converted warehouse. "You're thinking of Idiocracy."

He looked around at the unwashed masses around us, the smell of blood, sweat, piss, and drugs as offensive as the fashion sense and personal hygiene on display. "Isn't it though?"

One of the people next to us looked like he was going to say something, but looked at our muscles and Herb's newly bloodstained clothing, looking away before he could meet my eyes. As we got to the door one of the doormen offered me an armband. "No thanks, I'm good," I told him as I tried to walk in the door.

He put a hand up to stop me, "Take a fucking band!" he yelled in my face. I took it, rolling my eyes, wishing his drug of choice was Listerine, not steroids, before he stepped back and tried to shove me in. I went with the push, smoothly entering to see that, yes, this place was in fact a converted warehouse, and not the small shopping area I thought. People were still selling things, though it all looked pretty shady.

I turned to Herb, who had taken an armband from the other guy, and then threw it off to the side. "I don't want a fucking armband," he told the other doorman.

The guy got in his face, yelling "Get the fuck in there, I'll deal with you later, before trying to shove him in as well. Herb took the shove without moving, then when the guy pulled his hand back to try again he walked inside.

"It's a shopping center" I told him. "Of sorts. Let's just get some clothes and a bite to eat, don't make a deal out of the awareness bands." At that both thugs laughed, before turning their attention back to the people waiting to get inside. As we wandered I glanced at Herb. "These armbands. They're for something, but I can't remember what. I thought it was like, cancer awareness, or something but that's probably not true."

"I can't remember either," he commented as I put mine in my pocket. "That's why I'm not fucking putting one on."

I tried to think back to what I remembered from the source material. "Do you remember the section in the book where they went to that Merchant party? The one Faultline broke up? It was at the beginning of the S9 arc. They mentioned the bands, but I can't remember."

"Oooh, right," he responded, putting his hands to his head as he tried to recall. "These fucking, you know what it is?" he asked either me or himself. "What color were they?"

"In the book? Red. These are yellow." I supplied.

He put his hands down, looking at the piss yellow rubber bracelets everyone was wearing. "They're Merchant things. If it was red then someone's gonna get murdered. Yellow? I don't know."

I looked around as well, taking in how many people were wearing the Merchant badges of pride. "So we're deep in their territory. Lovely. Let's get our shit and get out."

We walked around for a few minutes, looking at the drugs, weapons, pirated movies, and a large variety of goods that were probably stolen, finding nothing so mundane as underwear. We passed one guy who was either a pimp selling whores, or selling people, I wasn't sure which was worse. I didn't know the going rate for either, and I wasn't going to ask my friend about it right that moment. After a full circuit of the place, finding nothing we wanted, and turning down a couple of offers for my brightly colored hoody, probably because it was the cleanest thing in here, I turned to my friend.

"These morons," he commented, breaking my line of thought.

"What?"

"All of these people here selling shit, and no one thought to sell some fucking food. You'd make so much money," he commented sadly, chastising the gang known for their heavy drug use for their lack of foresight.

"Right," I responded. "Let's just leave."

He nodded. "You know what? I'm gonna be happy when I kill every damn one of these fuckers."

I looked at him in worry. "Some of the people here might not deserve it, or might not even want to be here." I sighed, looking at the examples of human refuse around us, making a plan of action as I did so. "So, come back here, save who we can, take down the rest. Those that chose this. . . Fuck it, I don't give a shit about them. We'll make a plan, in the meantime, we're deep in Merchant territory. Let's get the fuck out of here." I half-led, half-dragged him towards the door as he looked around, probably figuring out the details of how to do so when a shouted voice cut through the crowd.

"Those are the guys who killed Bizzy!" I, along with half the crowd, turned to see the guy who ran from us outside the quickie mart pointing straight at Herb. My friend looked around and pushed his hands out to either side dramatically. Nothing happened. He tried a different pose. Nothing happened with that either.

There was a confused silence as everyone stared at him. "What are you trying to do?" I asked.

"The thing!" he said, trying a third pose.

"I don't think it's working yet." I tried to tell him, aware of everyone's stares.

"It did before! When do I get the cool stuff?"

I whispered "Yeah, but that was just a flicker. I don't think it's ready yet," not that it really helped in the growing silence.

"Why can't I be more like Purity?" he whined. "Just be all like, Pzzzz!" he said, making a laser sound effect.

I gave him a look. "Why can't you be like the Neo-Nazi?"

"Not like a Nazi, why can't I just shoot beams of awesomeness all over the place?" he demanded.

"You can figure out how to shoot your stuff off later, I'll help. . . Damn that sounded gay," I amended. "You can do it later, let's leave." I started to walk away when the crowd around us closed ranks, boxing us in.

I retreated so I was back to back with my friend, ready to fight overwhelming odds when a harsh voice rang out. "What the fuck do you mean a cape's here ya cross-eyed gloryhole cocksucker?"

"Oh fuck a monkey," uttered Herb as I looked around. A black guy in a shitty costume was getting up on a platform at the back, a smaller dude talking to him and motioning in our direction. Following the speaker was a girl in a white tank top, heavily stained with either dirt or oil, wearing either short shorts or large panties, it was hard to tell. What wasn't hard to tell was that she looked like she tried to dress sexy, but overshot well into the trying too hard territory of embarrassingly indecent. My eyes prickled as I looked at them and I Knew them. The costumed cusser had Ranged Location-Dependent Unidirectional Compounding Tactile Telekinesis Fields. The girl had Technical Knowledge of how to make anything relating to movement, Skill at using such, and Micro-Telekinesis to do both. If I had to guess, these would be Skidmark and Squealer, The leader of the Merchants and his tinker girlfriend.

"Herb, remember how I said I think we were deep in Merchant territory." At his nod I continued, "I think that was understating it, I think we're at the heart of it."

Skidmark had gotten to the front of his "stage" and was now looking at us, taking a wireless microphone from a flunky. "You pair of sphincter riders come into my territory, fuck up my men, and then come into my house like you own the place? Get over here!" he yelled as the crowd parted between us. With a wave of his hand the ground underneath us glowed blue as we were dragged down the illuminated line to stop a few yards in front of him. I saw my own power reach out and pull a bit of the weak blue and purple flame from the ground, pushing it into my chest and had to clench my jaw as the burning passed into me and settled at my core. I Took the power as we were dragged, not like a moving sidewalk but with distributed force across our bodies. Concentrating on my new ability, I tried to apply it to the tip of my finger, experimentally closing my hand only for that finger to be dragged away from my palm, making my hand open. The power only lasted a few seconds as I used it, sputtering into nothingness as I barely listened to what was going on around me, focusing on getting the power to work.

"Hi Skidmark," Herb waved as we got closer.

He spat in our direction, the spit getting caught at the edge of the field and was dragged, whole, to the end of the effect before it splattered on the ground. "Don't hi me you pig faced piss gargler!" Herb took a moment to breathe, grinning widely at the foul-mouthed gang leader. "You-" Skidmark started.

"You cock-gobblin piece of shit!" Herb interrupted, voice booming and carrying through the space. "You open that dirty little cunt-dragging dumb mouth of yours one more time in my direction, I'm gonna consider it an insult 'cause it smells like the fucking whore that your mother is!"

I glanced up and the stunned look on Skidmark's face showed that he was a glass cannon when it came to profanity, dishing it out with speed, but completely unable to take it. I sighed, adding "Wow, that was such a helpful and constructive comment," before turning my attention back to my hands, trying to get my new power to work.

My friend gave a start as he looked at me, before grinning back. "I'm just trying to fit in here."

Skidmark rallied "You beat up my pushers and think that's fitting in you dick-gagger!"

Herb held up his hands "When you say 'beat up' and 'your pushers'," he responded, using air-quotes. "I don't think the first guy was a pusher unless he was the one pushing your dick into her ass, from behind." I looked at Herb in mute horror. I had no idea how this was going to go well, and if it did I was going to have to re-evaluate everything I knew about drug-dealers.

"I'm not gay you spunk bubble, you're prolly gay you fudge packer, and I'm gonna make you my bitch when I beat your ass down till your begging for your boyfriend to suck my dick 'cause you ain't getting no lube!"

Without missing a beat Herb replied with no inflection, "So you are gay."

Skidmark, now so enraged that spittle was flying between his rotting yellowed teeth yelled. "I'm not actually gonna fuck ya, ya minge blender, I'm gonna motherfuckin' kill ya!" I got the power on my hands stable enough that it started flashing a bit as I dispelled it. Figuring out how to layer it as fast as I could, realizing that my friend's verbal sparring wasn't because he had a death wish, but to buy me time to figure a way out of it. "And you ass handler!" the villain continued, turning his attention to me. "What the fuck are you doin' you pasty waffle jacker!"

"Woah," Herb said, stepping in front of me. I murmured an "almost got it" and he nodded. Focusing everything I had on figuring it out asap, I tuned him out as he continued. "You don't talk to my boy, we're not done yet. As a matter of fact you're such a piece of rotten dog shit, left on the corner, turned ripe, eaten, regurgitated, eaten again, then shit out of your own ass then eaten again before its even so bad that your rotten mouth can't take it, so you puke again because you don't understand the concept of eating something that ain't meth, just look at your backed up teeth, that, oh my god, how many more scars are you gonna put on you? When people talk about track stars, they mean running dumbass. And shooting that much? It's not a tattoo my friend, not a tattoo."

I layered the effect of my new power on the strip of ground behind us, nothing happening till the fifth layering, where it turned a darker blue and started running in the opposite direction. "Okay, we can leave," I told him, looking up and seeing Skidmark turning colors as he became increasingly apoplectic in rage in the sudden silence. I asked disbelievingly "What did you say?"

Herb shrugged. "I was just telling him he was making bad life choices."

I rolled my eyes. "No shit Sherlock, he's a meth head."

Skidmark bit out "What did you call me you sack shiner?"

Herb gave him a raised eyebrow. "It's an easy conclusion, he just followed the tracks in your arms."

At that Skidmark, startled fumbling with his belt, pulling out a gun. "Stop helping!" I told him, laying down a field from our location straight to the door. The first application started ruffling people's clothing, the second started gently moving them out the door, the third pushing them, the fourth dragging them. On the fifth people were being thrown out the door and the field behind us gave way, throwing us bodily out the warehouse, Skidmark having dropped his gun and looked as we rode his power out of his base. "It looks like he wants us to leave," I loudly commented as we rushed past improvised stalls.

"Yeah, good, it stinks in here!" Herb agreed loudly over the strangled "What the fucking hell?" from the villain.

My grinning agreement of "Yes, and the drugs were of inferior quality" not quite drowning out a quieter "Why you doin' that Skidsy?" from Squealer, whose voiced matched her name.

"I'm not fu-" he caught himself. "Cause I want those crap-headed diarrhea extractors outta my fuckin' territory!" We heard as we exited the door. I rode the path, creating a new one off the side, pulling Herb so he didn't fall into the pile of people I'd pushed ahead of us on our way out. As we ran with the metaphorical wind at our backs I heard the villain shout "And I want you virgin crap shiners to chase 'em outta here. If any of you make em bleed you get two hits of whatever you shit pipes want!"

Damn, I thought. This is gonna suck.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.4

I pulled Herb along as we ran, the junky hordes that made up the Merchants hot on our heels, our blood buying them their next fix. Pelting down streets, and through alleys, we had the advantage of being in peak condition, but they knew the territory, and as we exited an alley we had to duck under a set of swung pipes from a pair of Merchants lying in wait. Herb and I lashed out, slamming them both in the diaphragm in unison, and ran on as they fell to the ground gasping like a pair of panicked seals.

Another few turns and another ambush, this one with knives, had Herb panting as we ran, "This is bad." He looked askance at me as I stopped running to laugh.

"God Skidmark's an idiot." I commented as I looked down the alley we had stopped in, seeing no-one.

"Why?" he asked, shaking his head. "We gotta move."

"Because he had it the entire time and never did this." I responded, layering the effect four times, half a foot wide, in a line from chest height up the four stories to the top of the building.

"Huh? Aaah!" was my friend's response as I grabbed his hand, putting it on the strip the same time as I put mine on it, slightly higher. Without a jolt, we both rose up as if on an elevator, but with even less sensation of movement. We both crested the top of the building, propelled up into the air. Starting to fall as I layered another on field the top of the rooftop, pointing inwards. I kept hold of Herb, catching it with my foot and we were both pushed on top of the building, where I stumbled and he fell in a roll, coming up and looking around. From our position the maze of the trainyards, the slums, and the midway were laid bare, showing the skyscrapers of Downtown to the south, the residential district to the west, and the seemingly floating futuristic structure of Protectorate Head Quarters in the middle of the bay, a barely perceptible bubble around it oversaturating the colors within and giving it an unreal appearance. "Holy shit," my friend commented, looking at the PHQ. "We're really here."

"Yeah," I responded, walking to the southern edge of the building, the gap between buildings a good ten feet. "Let's go south to get out of Merchant territory, get a bit to eat, then find Winslow High and save Taylor."

Herb walked up, looking at the gap. "We gonna have to jump that, or will poop-stain's power carry us?"

I winced. "It's my power now, so please don't call it that. And a little bit of both?" I responded, layering the power on a square foot piece of the ground, trying to aim it not perpendicular to the surface, but at an oblique angle. "I think I have to anchor it to something, so it can't just carry us." It was slippery trying to modify the angle of the push, using a sense I didn't have ten minutes ago, so I dropped the brass knuckles I still had on the surface to test it, only for them to shoot almost straight up, clattering to the ground halfway between the two buildings, eliciting a cry from below.

"Shit," Herb said looking over. "I think you got one but they found us."

I nodded, concentrating. I dismissed the effect, layering a new one at more of an acute angle, spitting into it to judge the direction. It launched my ad-hoc projectile in the right direction, but not hard enough. I layered another, hesitating to put down another on top of that. The increase in thrust wasn't linear, but it wasn't exponential either. I couldn't remember the term for it. Quadratic? It didn't matter, I heard the excited yells from the way we came, which meant they found the lift. "Let's go," I said, stomping on the square and launching myself across the gap, soaring for a moment before catching my foot on the far ledge and putting myself into a spin as I tumbled across the roof. A yell of "Incoming" prompting me to roll out of the way as Herb rolled past the space I was just lying. I got up, offering a hand to my friend as we ran to the next gap, layering the square an extra time and brought the angle up slightly, not stopping as I ran into it, launching across the gap, hitting the ground running, the sound of my friend's steps right behind me. Three more jumps later we got to a street, easily thirty feet wide. I bumped the angle up, and layered it six deep, spitting in this one. I lost track of it halfway across, but it looked good.

I hit it, launching myself across the gap. I flew, hearing the gasps of people below me, and the yell of Herb behind me, the cursing of the Merchants farther behind. As I hit the apex of my arc, I did some quick mental math and realized I wasn't gonna make it. I had needed a seventh layer, though that probably would have put me at least ten feet past the leading edge. Starting to fall I guessed where'd I'd impact on the side of the building and laid another lift to the top, this one several feet wide in case I missed, layering the top bit to point inwards so it would push us over the building instead of just up. I hoped the lifting effect would negate my momentum, softening the impact, but put out my hands and feet to lessen the coming blow.

The force still almost knocked the wind out of me as I hit the brick wall at running speed, my downward force negated by the push upwards, but my horizontal force untouched. The twisted bit at the top did put me over the building, but my foot caught on the top once again, faceplanting me into the gravel, rolling to the side to avoid Herb.

As we sat up we saw the braver druggies following our path, some having reached the third rooftop.

"Hey, question?" Herb asked. "Those things you lay down, how long do they last?" He motioned towards the gawking civilians below us, some getting out phones. "Because: Pedestrians?"

I blinked at him. "Um, they last forever until I disperse them. I mean, I might have a limit for how many I can lay down, but that's kinda it." I looked at the slowly approaching Merchants. "Oh, right, them. Close your eyes." I reached out with my stolen power and felt the fields in front of me, snapping my finger they dispersed in a series of bright flashes of light, the screams of several merchants in quick succession reaching me as they reached the end of a roof, tried to hit a field that wasn't there anymore, and couldn't slow down fast enough to stop themselves from plummeting over the edge, along with a few that might have been taking the first lift that I made. Looking down before backing away from the edge, and visual range, looking at Herb. "Let's make a few more jumps before coming down to street level. We need to cover our faces though, we're getting out of the industrial areas."

Herb nodded, "And we need to do something about your eyes."

I froze, reaching up to my eyes but not touching them. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Nothing," he commented. "Except for the fact that they've got every color of the rainbow. And are kinda spinning. And are glowing. But other than that, nothing at all."

I panicked for a second before my logic kicked in. "Right," I said shaking my head. "I knew that was gonna happen. We both picked up the first tier of the Case 53 drawback, so we both got minorly inhuman features. I got prismatic features and you got vamp teeth." I glanced at him. "Which you don't have yet. My working theory is that they manifest when we get our second trigger powers. When did they start glowing?"

"When we were talking to the druggie," he supplied.

"That describes half the people we've talked to today!" I snapped. "Sorry, not helpful. Which druggy?"

Herb waved away my apology. "It's been one of those days. It was Skidmark"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'd already grabbed his power, which was my second trigger. I planned for this," I explained, reaching into the plastic bag I'd wrapped around my wrist. "That's why I picked up Sun-. . . Goddammnit." I swore sadly as I pulled out the plastic shards, crushed from one of my impacts in our flight from the land of low long-term planning. I looked back up to my friend who winced in sympathy. "Okay, new plan, I make my hoody have a better hood, and go with that." I concentrated on my clothing, which transitioned from urban ghetto eyesore to a dark grey hoodie with a larger than normal hood, manifesting a leather jacker over it to better take the impacts in case I fell again. Turning I flipped the hood up, asking "How about now?"

Herb winced. "Ya know how I said your eyes glowed?" At my nod he continued, "Well, it's not that noticeable in the day, but with the hood, it's the first thing ya notice, even more than your edgy black leather jacket."

"It's not edgy!" I defended, "It's to protect from falls or stabs or. . . fine it's edgy," I conceded. I had the fabric of the hood grow up to cover my nose and mouth. "Does this at least hide my identity?" The cloth didn't muffle me in the slightest, that was odd.

"On top of making you look like your trying even harder? Yeah."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, pull your shirt up over your nose while we make these jumps. We'll ditch it when we go down." I moved across the conjoined rooftops, making another field for us to jump, taking it and landing on the other side, watching as Herb followed, holding his hood to his head as he did so to keep it from flying off. We jumped a few more before I made a weak lift strip which we used to descend into an alley. Herb dumped his jacket in a dumpster as I took off my hood and mask, switching the color scheme and putting a red lion rampant across my now white back.

"Showoff," he commented, smiling as we stepped out on to the street.



Half an hour later, and asking several times for directions, only some of them correct, we were a few minutes from stepping out onto the Boardwalk a place full of sun, safety, and overpriced everything. While it was the gangs who kept it truly safe, this was only accurate for the boardwalk itself. The fact that I found myself staring down the barrel of a gun two blocks away from it served as a reminder of this truth. We had been so close to our destination that I'd stopped looking around for trouble, figuring we had long since left Merchant territory, when Herb and I turned down an alley and found ourselves looking at three more participants of the "gangsta chic" movement, these all sporting the red and yellow ABB symbol of the "Azn Bad Boys". "Can we not?" I asked the universe under my breath as I turned on my heel to go the other way.

"Where do ya think you're going, white boy?" The shirtless one with the tattoos asked, because they of course had to be as stereotypical as possible. I gave a deep breath before turning back around.

"He's not white," Herb told them, "He's. . . Nordic."

"That, that counts as white," I told him before addressing the leader. "Nowhere good sir. We're just two, humble, travelers trying to find breakfast. Would you know of a good place around here?"

"Yes," my increasingly questionable best friend added. "So, for those of us who aren't from the eighteen-hundreds, speak a bit current if you don't mind."

The three of them started to approach, and I wasn't sure if they were amused or annoyed. I'd tried to be polite and may have gone a bit overboard. "So, hi." I tried again. "We're new in town and don't know where everything is," including gang territories I hoped they understood. "And we're looking for someplace to eat."

"Because bloody hell this is terrible," Herb added with one of the fakest British accents I ever heard. "Sugar, Sugar, tea and crumpets."

"Are you making fun of us?" the left thug asked.

Herb shook his head, "Oh nah, I'm making fun of him," he jerked his head towards me, "actually you know what? Yeah, sure, why not."

"Fuck you," responded the thug who didn't understand humor. "Pretending to be all English and shit. What next, gonna call us 'Orientals'. Fuck you, Oriental is a rug! I'm Asian and I'm a Bad Boy! Isn't that right Eiji?"

The leader rolled his eyes, "Sure Tetsu, let's get this over with."

Herb looked confusing, holding up a hand in a wait gesture. "You're Asian," he echoed. "And you're a bad boy?"

"It's the name of their gang," I supplied, hoping to head off whatever comment he would make that would lead to them trying to kill us.

"Bad boy," he repeated. "Soooo-"

"Please don't," I interrupted.

"Well no, I'm just trying to figure out why they ain't getting spanked by their mommies?" He finished.

The leader, who had had a look of annoyed lethargy went completely still. "What."

"I get spanked by your mama!" the third one tried to trash talk. Emphasis on the tried, only succeeding in gaining everyone's attention.

I sighed. "That's probably not what you meant. You probably meant something like 'I spank your mama every night.' Mind you I just got here so I don't know your mama, and if that were to be pointed out I'd respond with 'What's her name, I'll check when she's blowin' me'. Wait," I said as I had once again gained the full attention of all three gang-bangers. "Why did I say that?"

"And if you're spanking my momma you're into necrophilia," thoughtfully added my friend. "And that means you need help."

By this point the leader had had enough, pulled out a pistol from the back of his pants and pointed it at my head. "Fuck this shit," he commanded. "Give me your fucking wallet round-eye!"

Herb sighed as he eyed the gun. "Not this shit again. We're in so much fucking trouble." Perking up he continued, "Oh shit, this is following those lines."

"What lines?" I asked, unable to help myself. I stared down the barrel of the gun, trying to layer my, for lack of a better term, Acceleration Zones, inside the barrel of the gun, pointing inwards. "Dear penthouse, I never thought it could happen to me?" I gave a mirthless chuckle.

"Nah, not dear penthouse." He disagreed. "If it was that sort of thing I'd have Purity pinned to the bed and-"

"What is it with you and that Neo-Nazi chick?" I asked as the goon pulled thumbed the safety on his gun off. I layered another five layers on the zone inside of the barrel as we talked. Acceleration zone is mouthful, how about Speed Zone? "Actually, I think I got this," I told him as I added another speed zone to the gun.

Herb agreed. "Oh yeah, your thingie!" he agreed, causing the goons to look uncertain.

"You some kind of fucking cape!" the one on the left demanded, pulling out a knife.

"Me? Superpowers? No! No, no, no, no," I responded, lowering my tone each time, adding another layer with each no, the inside of his gun glowing a dark purple.

"What is with people against gays in this town?" Herb asked.

"Not gays, capes," I clarified, starting to layer another set of speed zones on the palm of my hand as I held it loosely by my side.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of being homophobic." He apologized. His confusion-fu was finally broken as the leader shook his head as he turned the gun towards Herb, a single faint deep purple spark falling out, only visible because I knew to look for it.

"Stop fucking talking and just give us your fucking money!" the gunman demand. Having five layers on my left palm, and at least ten inside the gun I felt confident.

"What are you gonna do?" I drawled. "Shoot me?"

"You did not just fuckin' say that to me!" he yelled, gun pointing at my head again.

I turned to Herb, dismissing the leader with my body language. "He doesn't seem very perceptive, and imperceptive people make mistakes a lot."

Herb looked at me like I was crazy. "Yeah, but he's got a gun, he can probably shoot you. Using guns is a pretty simple process."

"Yeah," I dismissed, "But if you don't take care of them they can backfire, and that really sucks."

Herb's eyes were glued to the barrel, catching sight of another purple spark in the barrel as he turned away from the armed thug. "On the other hand, you're right," he conceded. "He's just a boy, he probably doesn't know how to pull the trigger. He probably doesn't even know how to pull his pud."

The leader incensed at our dismissal of him as a threat, nearly screamed "Fuck you!" and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was followed almost simultaneously with the gun exploding, the bullet reversing and flying out the back of the firearm, taking a bit of the goon's shoulder out as it flew.

"Now" I yelled, leaping forward, slamming my zoned hand into the chest of the knife thug, sending him flying into the wall as I was spun in the other direction from the recoil at far faster a speed than I was comfortable with. I panicked, throwing up my leg to try to lessen the impact against the opposite wall. Instead I spun too far, sinking an accidental kick into the third one at almost inhuman speed, feeling at least one rib snap under my shin as I arrested my momentum on his chest. Hearing the guy behind me swearing I slammed my hand on the wall at chest height, shooting backwards and spinning to elbow him in the ribs, as he stabbed me in the chest, feeling something snap where I hit him as well. Looking down I felt pressure, but the point of the knife appeared not to have cut through the leather of my jacket. Around me I saw all three of them down, moaning, with the leader bleeding from the hand and shoulder. As I looked down the alley I saw Herb peering back at me from the street. "What the hell man?" I asked as he walked back down, "You left me!"

"My bad," he looked chagrined. "I misunderstood. I thought 'Now' meant run, not kick the living shit out of these guys." He observed my handiwork. "Damn man, and you gave me crap for the big guy."

"Yeah," I said, dismissing the zone on my hand and what remained on the gun barrel, squatting down to pat down the gunman for his wallet. "Zone-fu is way more effective than I thought."

"Zone-fu?" Herb asked.

"Yeah, using the speed zones I can make to fight. How's the name?" I asked hesitantly.

He laughed. "Corny as fuck, but can't argue with results. Why did you fight them anyways? With your power we could have gotten away easily."

I looked at him, offended. "They tried to rob us, it's only right to rob them right back. It's the golden rule."

"You're a better criminal than I am," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm not a criminal" I objected.

"We're gonna be so awesome as supervillains," he continued as if I hadn't said anything.

"You're not a supervillain if you steal from villains!"

He dragged out his answer of "Suuuure,"in a completely unconvincing manner.

"You don't sound sure."

"No, I'm totally sure that you're sure," he informed me. I chose not to argue as we tossed them for their cash, I grabbed one of their phones, and we walked out, glancing at the name of the coffee shop right next to us. "What's that for?" he asked.

"I probably didn't kill anyone, but I want to make sure." I dialed 911, receiving an attentive operator as I responded in a bad Indian accent. "I am calling to tell you that I saw three very rough looking young men in the alley between Rodeo & Dupont by the MaHotma Grindy, which is quite an offensive name to my culture. They looked to be in very bad shape, moaning on the ground and whatnot. One even appeared to be bleeding if you must know. I heard a gunshot and went to help, but they seemed to be allied with that dragon fellow, and I do not want to get his attention thank you very much."

"Please stay on the line a car will be there shortly." The operator instructed.

"Sorry, I can not do that, very busy, thank you come again." And with that I hung up on her, flipped the phone over, took the case off, and took out the battery and sim chip, dumping the entire assembly in a trash can as I walked.

Herb was covering his mouth trying not to laugh. "You are so racist," he giggled.

I sighed, "Dude, we are having so much bad luck I don't want to get a murder rap. Besides, with an accent that bad it's hard to tell my actual accent, so that helps. Think of how screwed up things are today, we've gotten jumped by thugs three times in broad daylight, and it isn't even ten. Things didn't get that bad in canon until after Leviathan paid this place a visit, and even then, not really. We both took Worst Day Ever when we made our characters, and I want to mitigate as much of that as I can. Also, who the hell names their chain of coffee shops MaHotma Grindy? That's like the definition of Cultural appropriation! Screw it, not my problem."

Finally reaching the boardwalk, we found a restaurant, though the only seating was on the boardwalk, sitting out and exposed. Herb ducked inside to use the bathroom, coming back a moment later. "Clogged," was his statement as he sat down. A few minutes later our breakfast, now closer to brunch, came, with water as they were out of coffee, cocoa, juice, tea, soda, & milk. My waffle was brunt, and his eggs were undercooked, both meals containing a not insignificant number of hairs. I got up, ready to make a complaint as Herb grabbed my hand, shaking his head before pointing at the large Russian man in the back who had been drinking the same cup of coffee as when we showed up half an hour ago. Looking at him he looked back at me, cocked an eyebrow, and shuffled the newspapers in front of him to reveal a pistol for a second before covering it again.

I sat back down. "I could take him," I told Herb, trying to eat the non-burnt portions, dry, because apparently there was no syrup in the entire restaurant.

He patted my hand comfortingly, and a little condescendingly. "I know you could honey, but you just said this day was bad enough, let's not start more shit than necessary."

I growled and ate what was salvageable. Going to pay the for the meal, the cashier told me they only took credit, but for an extra twenty they'd take cash. I stared at the smiling old lady and almost balked. In the scheme of things, it was nothing, I made a few hundred off of the ABB goons alone, but it irked me. Settling the bill, I grabbed Herb and left, muttering about racketeering.

We walked down the boardwalk for a while, looking around, trying to get a feel for the town when my eyes unfocused for a moment, showing an inferno on the boardwalk. Looking closer I saw a great orange and steel grey flame, billowing off a large Asian man walking determinedly in our direction. In the flames lurked a huge dragon, eyes full of mad rage, looking for something, anything to fight. Grabbing Herb by the arm I took a right and dragged him to the nearest shop, another freaking MaHotma Grindy coffee.

Inside, I pushed him into the line at the back, trying to look nonchalant. "Dude," he said, "If you wanted coffee so bad you should have just said so. Actually!" he perked up, cutting off what I was going to tell him. "This place probably has a bathroom, I'll be right back!"

"Wait!" I called in panic as he disappeared, leaving me alone. Seeing the eyes of others on me I added "You didn't tell me your order!" People turned away, and then all I had to do was wait and see if what could only be Lung, leader of the ABB, showed up. Unfortunately, my power sight seemed to only work if I could see them in person, so if I couldn't physically see him, I couldn't see his power. A few minutes passed with nothing, and I started to relax as I kept an eye on the door when my power flared and I saw the dragon. Walking in the door, the large man had to almost duck down, looking around for someone. I turned to look away to try not to attract attention from the villain.

"You, Red Lion!" he called at me. I froze. Shit, I forgot to change my jacket I panicked as thought about it. The guys I took down must have called their boss. But why would Lung care about a trio of low level bangers?

"Yes?" I asked, staring at his chest, not sure if looking him in the eye would have been an insult or not. The bare chest that peeked out of the top of his dress shirt was dark with tattoos. Definitely Yakuza, damn. If I had any doubts as to who I was talking to, they were gone.

"You put my men in the hospital. You disrespect them, you disrespect me. That cannot be allowed," he rumbled, his deep voice reverberating around the café easily. Everyone around me quickly backed away, not wanting to get close, but wanting to see what happened, the cell-phone cameras coming out.

I flicked up my hood, physically raising the portion covering my mouth instead of willing it to do so. I added gloves to the what I was wearing leaving only my glowing eyes visible. Highly identifiable, but better than nothing. Maybe if I could be respectful enough I could defuse the situation. Maybe. "In my defense, they did try to rob me for no good reason, and then tried to shoot me in the head. That's not really respectful either. Your idea of honor seems a bit slanted if you're okay with that," I responded smoothly. There was a beat of stillness. Dear god why did I say that! I screamed internally.

Lung blinked, glaring at me. "You think this is funny?" he asked, stalking towards me. the air around him starting to shimmer with heat.

I took a deep breath before responding, considering my options. If he transformed I could probably steal a copy of his power, but I could feel my own trying to do so, not able to get a handle on it. Maybe he has to transform more? Oh god, if he has to go full dragon before it'll work I'll be long dead! I suppressed the urge to glance behind me, wondering where the hell Herb was. It'd only been a couple of minutes, but I needed him out here helping, or to lead him away. I considered using my speed zones to throw him to the side, and ride more of them out to run, but any large-scale use of it would automatically out me not only as a cape, but as having Skidmark's power, and every-time I read a story with power-copiers, the people with regular powers tended to hate them right off the bat. Probably a deeper psychological reason for that, but not something to worry about now as he was obviously waiting for a response. I looked up, "Sorry sir, I meant no disrespect, when I get scared I get sarcastic. It's a bad trait. I meant to say I am new and do not yet know these territories. I respectfully asked your men if they knew where I could find breakfast and they tried to take everything I owned. I only wished to walk away, but they tried to kill me. Self-defense is the basic right of all men. Sir."

He looked me in the eyes, which were probably easily seen to be glowing under my hood, but hopefully only to him. Hopefully he'd let me go with a warning and talk to his followers not to pick fights with people who obviously had superpowers. Demanding, he pseudo-asked "You said you were new, but you knew me on sight. Explain."

This was easy. "Before I travel to a new city I look up the major players: You, Kaiser, Armsmaster, Coil. I want to know who to not offend sir."

"Coil?" was the response.

Shit I thought. He's pretending to be a minor player now. How the hell would I have heard of him? "My source said he had connections sir, that it wasn't his power or tinker tech that made him dangerous, but his connections."

He looked down at me, the air around him slowly oscillating between calm and shimmering, as if his power didn't know whether to activate or not. Looking closer at it I Knew it was a changer power at heart, not a brute, that had adapted to his psyche to turn him into his idea of an apex predator, a dragon, but the power had self-limited to conflict, though the nature of that conflict was up to Lung. Did this count as a conflict? It normally was hard to get truly mad when someone when they were honestly being helpful, but that wasn't an ironclad protection.

"They said you had a partner. Where is he?" he ground out. Was it good or bad that he wasn't addressing any of my points?

"Um," I started, trying to figure out an answer that wouldn't get Herb ambushed with his pants down. Lung took a step forward, the air shimmering in a halo around him. I saw sweat start to bead on the skin of those hugging the walls, and on an intellectual level I felt it too, though it didn't bother me. "I was getting us both coffee, he should be here soon. He might have seen you and ran though. It would be the smart thing to do sir."

Lung smiled, more baring of his teeth then any friendly gesture. "Then he should be able to call for an ambulance when he finds you, like you did for my men. You will be in worse shape." He reached out with a hand for my neck. Yeah, that's not gonna happen I thought as I jerked back, batting it away.

His eyes narrowed and he reached for me again, the nails on his hand lengthening and sharpening. What to do? I thought. I still didn't want to out myself as a cape, trying to figure out what to do that would be subtle. I ducked under the hand, jerking my head back as his other hand came up, clawed and ready to rip. Taking a step forward he came at me with a hook. Which I dodged again, grabbing his arm and twisting it into a throw, shoving him into the glass counter which shattered, the insides promptly catching fire.

Must have been hotter than I thought I mused as he picked himself up. Where the fuck are you Herb? The Baristas screamed as they fled to the back, one brave soul stopping at the doorway to continue filming me. Glancing around people had backed up towards the door, still watching. Ugh, Yuppies. Lung turned around, bit of flame starting to dance around and glared at me, bits of burning pastry stuck to his face. "For that, you die!" he declared, charging me. I dropped a speed zone behind me as he ran towards me, arms out. I dropped a smaller one an inch wide to the side and stepped on it, moving faster than he expected as I dodged, grabbing his arm to mime throwing him as his foot hit my seven-layered zone, accelerating him rapidly in an instant before being thrown into several tables ending his flight impacting the far wall, plaster cracking before it blackened as a wave of flame erupted from the downed form of Lung.

The inferno washed over his surroundings, lighting the couch, table, and chairs ablaze as Lung got up and reared back to bathe me in flame. I jumped forward, stepping on the zone and shot through the cleared path at speed as Lung unleashed a blaze from his increasingly distended jaws. Layering down a lift zone right in front of the bipedal dragon I weathered the torrent, stomping on it as I ducked down. Rising in time with my power, extending my body upwards in a jumping uppercut, I caught him directly in the jaw, dismissing my power in a flash of light as I lifted him off his scaly feet, sending him backwards into the wall again. I hit the ground, holding my throbbing hand, even though the gloves that hurt!

I turned my attention back to Lung, slumped against the wall, the fires around me dying down to mortal levels. Half the place was on fire but I didn't care, I was winning against Lung! I glanced at the entrance and the number of people had diminished, but a few were still filming. I gave them a thumbs up as something flickered in my vision and my feet were knocked out from under me by a round and hard appendage. I hit the ground on my back, oomphing with the impact as Lung came out of the flames, easily twelve feet tall, hunched down to fit in the ten-foot clearance of the café. I started to get up when a huge hand planted itself on my chest, talons pressing against the fabric but not piercing even the cloth of my hoodie.

Lung's draconic face leered out of the flames, skin replaced with steel scales and distended into a dragon's muzzle. I could see a large tail flickering out behind him, my power seizing on that, trying to grab his power, but not managing it. Oh come on! I despaired. Do I need the wings too before I can copy him? "Wha' are oo?" he demanded before shaking his head, flame flickering from around his jaws. "Don' Ca'e, Die!" he yelled, bringing his other hand up, talons ready and started to swing for my face. Fuck, I hope Herb got away okay. I thought as I struggled, trying and failing to dislodge the arm pinning me in place.

As the clawed hand descended another flashed into sight, this one reptilian as well, but a dark brown and closer to a crocodile skin then the layered scales of Lung's armor. This new hand and arm, the rest obscured by flame and smoke, followed a ballistic course before impacting the side of Lung's head at speed, the dragon looking confused for a frozen moment before he was propelled off of me and out the door, breaking the glass as he flew, the screams of the people on the boardwalk reaching my ears as I heard him impact the store across the way.

I blinked stupidly as I saw Herb run over to me, a woman's jacket wrapped around his head, leaving his eyes watering, wide, and uncovered. "What the hell man!" he yelled as he helped me up. We staggered out of the burning store, him holding me up as I limped out, getting my breath back and regaining my panicked thoughts. Across from us Lung, in almost full dragon mode, staggered out of a burning restaurant, glaring at us.

Herb froze as I started to run, stumbling as I jerked my friend off his feet. He quickly started running next to me. Glancing, "Can you summon your thing yet?" I asked as we hauled ass.

He shook his head. "No, I almost had it but I had to save your stupid ass!" he yelled, glancing back as Lung started to gain on us, leaving flaming prints and he loped on all fours.

We both dodged around a lost looking muscular teenager who had been looking at the fire. Shouldn't he be in school? I thought as I passed him, staring him in the eyes. Something about him seemed familiar, but I didn't have the time to stop and chat with strangers.

We needed to get away, but if our luck held we wouldn't be getting help from the Parahuman Response Teams. What was that phrase about cops? 'When seconds count, they're minutes away?' I could use my power, but that would only give us a little bit of a lead, and if I wasn't careful Lung would use it to catch up to us. Where could I put a zone that Lung couldn't use it. I thought as we ran for our lives. My hand? But that would be awkward to balance on. I slapped my head as I realized what I needed to do. "What?" Herb asked. "You have that 'I'm about to do something stupid' look. I know that look!"

"Jump!" I commanded.

"Wha-," he asked.

"JUST FUCKING JUMP!" I commanded, jumping and trying to drag him upwards as I did so. He leapt and as we left the ground I covered the bottoms of our shoes with zones pointing backwards. I ran into the problem of having to deal with backlash fighting the ABB as apparently whatever I applied the field to trying to move opposite the thing it was propelling. This way, we'd try to move the earth behind us, which wouldn't happen, but the backlash would move us forward instead. Hitting the ground, I was immediately jerked forward, as was Herb with an "ohshit!" right next to me. We were moving just as fast as we had been running, Lung still gaining, so I felt with my power, feeling the four active fields without seeing them. I applied another layer to all of them, jerking us forward again as we picked up speed. Herb held on to my arm for dear life, trying not to scream as we blasted past stores, leaving the angry dragon in our metaphorical dust.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.5

We sped down the Boardwalk, skating on my power, only turning slightly to avoid people as we hit the edge of that part of the city. I dragged him into the road as we shot down the street, trying to avoid cars as we moved. Looking forward I saw we were headed for a T intersection, and I wasn't sure of our ability to turn. I tried to mentally reach out to the speed zones on the bottom of my feet to strip off the layers instead of dismissing entirely. I could feel the field, and the layers, but as I tried to strip a layer off my left foot there was a flash and the entire zone dissipated.

Sweating I held on to Herb as I started to slow, but not nearly enough. I pushed him, shifting his weight onto the foot on the other side of me. He looked at me as I tried stripping off a layer from his raised foot, dispelling that zone as well. Shit. I thought. We'd slowed to somewhere close to thirty miles per hour but that was still too damn fast. "We can't turn!" I yelled at him. "When I say jump, jump and we'll try to bleed off the speed. Keep running!" I commanded. He nodded and followed my command of "Jump!"

I dispelled the zones on our feet and we hit the ground running far too fast. It wasn't a good feeling, more like constantly stumbling forward in a mad attempt to keep your feet under you than some kind of superhuman experience. We hit the edge of the intersection right after we landed, doing well for a second before a truck bore down on us, horn blaring. Without thinking I swung my arm out, shoving Herb square in the chest, slowing him down. I looked back at him as he fell with a roll, stopping safely as I launched myself forward, almost clearing the truck. In a panic, I dropped a lift zone on the front of the truck's grill, catching me and giving me momentum in the direction the truck was going right before it hit me mid-leap, lessening the speed differential.

The impact didn't come with the crunch of breaking bone like I feared, the bruising force launching me over a parked car. I impacted the sidewalk, instinctually rolling and shoving myself upwards to minimize damage, launching myself up and through a plate glass window before landing on a table, which promptly collapsed, something hot splashing across my face.

"Owwww," I groaned, well over half of my body notifying me of their distress with my current life choices. I dismissed the field on the truck as I lay there, rallying myself to get up.

"Are you okay?" came a concerned man's voice. Looking over I saw a guy in a business suit sitting on a stool that was probably supposed to go with the table now underneath me. "Do I need to call an ambulance?"

I rolled to my feet, my side throbbing in pain from where I'd hip-checked a semi, back aching from the impact with the table. Looking at the glass I was amazed I hadn't been cut. I hurt, but it was manageable, and nothing on what I felt in that prismatic place. "I'm good," I groaned out, waving him off. "Thanks for asking." I grabbed my wallet and handed him a twenty, telling him "For your coffee," as I walked out the front door.

Limping back to the intersection, I saw Herb sitting soot stained, still wearing the canary yellow jacket wrapped around his head, staring dumbly at the trunk stopped a few feet in front of him. As I got closer my stride smoothed out a bit, feeling sore instead of lame. The trucker had gotten out and was yelling at me. "Holy shit are you oka-" He cut himself as he saw my glowing eyes "Fucking capes! What the fuck do you think you were doing boy! If I wanted a hood ornament I'd buy one!" He looked between the two of us. "You can't go runnin' around like you own the place. Why the fuck did you do something stupid like that?"

"Lung." Herb said in a shocked voice, staring at the truck that almost hit him. "We were running from Lung."

The trucker peered at him, then me. "Why the fuck did you piss of that scaly bastard?"

"Good question," my friend agreed, turning to look at me accusingly. "Why did we do that?"

"His guys tried to mug us. We objected. They tried to kill us. We strongly objected. Lung tried to kill us for strongly objecting, and we very strongly objected." I explained, walking over to help Herb up, putting one of his arms over my shoulder as we staggered away. "New Trigger, haven't got the hang of it yet, sorry."

He looked at us, at his undamaged truck, and the broken window. Following his gaze, I saw it was another MaHotma Grindy. How many of those are in the city? I thought, carrying my friend towards an alley. Looking back at us the trucker winced. "Maybe you boys should go to the local PRT office," he advised, pointing to the south. "You boys need a ride? It'd be cramped but you don't look good."

Not a chance in hell. I know exactly how corrupt the Parahuman Response Teams are and I'm not going in there without an exit plan. "That might be a good idea," I nodded, setting off in that direction. "This town's more dangerous than I thought, but we need a bit of a walk to cool down. 'Walk it off' like my coach says. Thanks for the offer."

He laughed as he got back into his truck. "It ain't that bad. Take care of yourselves!"

"You too!" I called back. It is, you just can't see it I thought. This place wasn't quite a powder keg, more like a badly maintained grain silo, where if conditions were right, it would explode, every safety that should have stopped it hopelessly broken. Leviathan was definitely the spark that would mess this place up, and if I wanted to make things better, I needed time to stop and think.

"That sucked," groaned Herb as we staggered down the alley, coming around and pulling his arm back, rubbing his chest where I'd shoved him as he looked around, taking the jacket from around his head. He looked at me, shaking his head. "What the fuck were you thinking?" He asked, heat rising in his voice.

I blinked. "That as we were running we were both gonna get hit, but if I shoved you back you'd stop and I'd have enough momentum to clear the truck. It didn't quite work but-"

"Not that you fucktard! For fighting Lung! You didn't even have his power you dumbass!" He yelled, shoving me against the alley wall.

I cocked my head, more confused than anything. "You were in the bathroom, I needed to buy time for you to get out."

"And you never thought to, I don't know, knock on the bathroom door? I'd have gotten off the shitter in a hurry if you were like 'Yo, Fire breathing dragon comin' for us!' Instead I took my time until I smelled smoke, opened the door, and saw the goddamn building ON FIRE in time to see you uppercut God Damn LUNG!" he screamed, getting hysterical.

"Yeah, it was awesome." I laughed, continuing at his glare. "I shouldn't have looked away but I was doing pretty well up to that point. And hey, we got away, so it's fine." I defended. It was a bit touch and go but we got away. Lung would be on the lookout for someone with my eyes, but a pair of shades and I should be able to go under his radar. I was planning on grabbing a strength power, so the next time we clashed I could back it up, and I'd take a major step in solving the villain problem. I might even get his power, and wouldn't that be awesome?

Herb looked at me, then threw his hands up, screaming incoherently between clenched teeth. Stepping back, he took several deep breaths muttering under his breath. "Fucking dumbass, deals in fucking logic, use logic." He froze and turned back to me. "Why didn't you copy his power? If you did I wouldn't have needed to save your ass! I got a dose of it when I got close and I didn't get any of it from you."

"I would if I could, but the power wouldn't catch. I think he had to fully transform before it would take." I answered honestly. "I know we need to talk about this, but can we not do so right next to the place I got thrown through a window?"

He glared at me, looking down the way we came before nodding and following me out. We cut across another street before ducking down another alley. Down that one I shifted my jacket to a splotchy grey, the hoody a uniform grey just a bit lighter, trying to avoid anyone looking for a red lion. As I was doing this Herb spoke up again, "Please don't tell me you were fighting Lung just so you could take his power. Indoors!"

I bristled at the implications, "I told you I-"

"Were doing it to protect me, I know," he cut me off. "But there were other ways you could have fucking done it dumbass. Hell, why didn't you throw him out with your zones, hit the door 'till I got out, and we run out the back?"

"I was trying to avoid overt use of my powers, keep things low key," I told him, continuing past his strangled gasp of "Low key, you fought fucking LUNG!" to explain "I kept it small until he started fires, then pretended it was super strength, using the fire to cover the effects. Then he breathed fire, which I'm immune to, and I saw an opportunity to knock him down, and I took it, and it was awesome." I finished. "Hurt my hand, but worth it."

"And then what did you do?" he pressed.

"I waited to see if he got up."

"THAT! That is why I think you were trying to fucking bait him!" My friend exclaimed. "Lung's a regenerator, you knock him down and he gets back up even badder. If you were trying to take him down you should have followed him down and fucked him up. Taylor took out his fucking EYES and you just waited like a dumbass, and when he did what Lung ALWAYS DOES, he caught you by surprise and you were half a second from getting your fucking face ripped off."

I winced, going over the events in my mind. "I wasn't doing that. Was I?" I focused on what had been going on. Sighing and putting my face in my hands, realizing my mistake, "No, I wasn't baiting him, but I was being a dumbass."

"Oh really?" he inquired. "Seems pretty fuckin' obvious to me."

"I was treating him like a human opponent. I didn't want to fight him, so I thought if I hit him hard enough he'd stay down, but he treats every confrontation like a pack alpha, constantly asserting his dominance. I'm not gonna say I didn't want his power," I added, cutting him off, "Just that that wasn't my main motivation. I treated him like a person, but he isn't really, and not just 'cause he's a cape. He turns into a dragon, or at least, what he thinks a dragon is, and that mimics the neurochemistry of his idea of dragons. They constantly fight for dominance, so he does, and the more he sinks into his power the worse it is. When he goes back to normal though that sticks around. Maybe if he didn't use his power for a bit he might even out, but he almost always is at a low level, so his anger doesn't tire him out because that part of his brain is constantly healed. God I'm such a dumbass. I should have done some obfuscation shit, ran, come back for you, and then we left, but I was winning, or at least not losing long enough I thought I had a chance with a direct confrontation. If you hadn't come in I would have died." I glanced at his mouth, as he got ready to respond, but his teeth were still normal. "Do you have a handle on your power yet?"

His expression, which was tending towards conciliatory hardened again. "No," he growled. "I thought I was getting somewhere but this overconfident dipshit needed my help so I partially had it, again, and lost hold of it." He reached his hand out to the side, making a fist as the air around him shimmered, a slight brown tint to it before it vanished into nothing. "I'm close, but I lost it when I saw what was happening." His expression softened again. "Just, just don't do anything stupid like that again." He sighed, amending, "Today. I know how you are."

I wanted to argue, but wasn't really sure how to start. I fucked up, hard. I knew Lung regenerated, but I didn't explicitly read it in his power so I forgot about it. Technically he didn't heal, he just was constantly trying to turn into a dragon, one that wasn't injured. It was slower when he wasn't explicitly fighting, but he was still trying to be one, just a fraction of one instead. However, I hadn't seen it in the express manifestation of his power, and forgot about anything other than what was explicitly there, looking at the surface of what he could do, not the depths that made the obvious parts work.

Instead I nodded, moving back towards the end of the alley, turning the corner and spotting an empty bus-stop I wandered over. "We've gotten distracted," I started, pointedly ignoring Herb's snort, "But we still have our mission. It's gotta be close to eleven, we take a bus to Winslow, pull her out, get her taken care of, and disappear until the heat dies down." I looked at the chart of lines. "Danny works at the docks, and it's easy for her to get there so she must be up here," I waved at the northwestern portion of the map. "That means we want bus number 8."

Herb nodded, taking a seat, letting out a deep breath, starting to attempt to manifest his power, before looking around and letting his arm drop. "So, when we did the thing online it was supposed to be fun," he started, "All jokey-jokey, wouldn't it be cool shit, but now that we're here, I don't have any powers!"

"Yes you do," I told him. "You're buff, you've got the ability to copy powers of anyone within five meters of you, and you've got the power to replicate yourself. I don't know how the last one works, and it looks like it's still recharging, but that's a thing. Also, you've got your projection power, if you can figure out how to bring that online."

"Yep," he seemingly agreed. "I've got no powers. No, ya know what? I've apparently got the power of running my ass off and not getting super tired."

I winced. "You've got practically superhuman endurance. Ladies love that shit."

"Yeah," he sighed, looking off into the distance.

Rolling my eyes, I continued. "It's probably because of the fact that it's such a powerful ability that it's taking so long to work."

He turned to me expression questioningly accusatory. "Your power is pretty broken too."

"Not at first," I disagreed. "Given time, hell yeah, but to start with it's pretty weaksauce. You not only have your projection, Stand, summon, thing, but it has powers of its own as well, all of which are the empowered second trigger versions. That may be why it's taking so long."

His brow furrowed. "It does? I know that it had shapeshifting but I don't remember what else it had. I-" he cut himself off, pointing at the coming bus. We got on, paid the fee, and sat at the empty back. "Course you'd make me sit at the back of the bus," he jibed.

"Shut up man, we need to talk about what we picked, since you don't remember." I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "I think I do, so I'll try to recap. We picked the Gestation start, obviously, so we're following canon. If I knew we were gonna be dropped in I would've gone for Golden Age instead, it would've given us more powers and dropped us off in the late eighties, but oh well. The rest," I concentrated. "We're both Abaddon shards, so we start strong and get ridiculous. I'm a Hero, because I'm saving the world, and you chose Cauldron, so you're the support from the shadows."

"Don't have that." Herb denied. "I'm pretty sure I'd notice if I did."

I waggled my hand in a so-so gesture. "I think you will get support, just not right away. It's probably all the drawbacks we took screwing with us. We both took two ranks of Worst Day Ever, the max was three ranks where the world itself is trying to kill you."

"Ya might not have noticed, but it kinda seems like it is. Lung?"

I waved around the bus, which only had a few people in it, an old woman with a small dog staring at us warily, a guy who looked three sheets to the wind, and a black girl, maybe fourteen, dressed trashily who kept sneaking glances at us. "Nothing's trying to kill us right this minute. That's what we get for two out of three. Then there's the issue of costumes."

"Yeah, what the hell. I ended up nekkid. Where's mine?" he squawked.

I sighed as all three of the other passengers looked at us. "Dude, keep it down. I think you'll get yours later. I think, I think I've already got mine."

He glanced at my hoodie. "Not much of one."

Rolling my eyes I explained, "Yeah, because it shifts. I picked the 'other' option like you, but you wanted a robot-suit combo, I wrote down 'dimensional cloak' because it sounded cool. I think this is what I got." I pulled the fabric of the hoody sleeve out of my jacket's sleeve, holding it taut as I pulled my arm back. "Use the knife you got from the Merchants and try to cut it." Shrugging he did so, taking out the blade to disapproving huff of the dog-lady. He tried sawing the knife on the cotton fabric, to no avail. "Now stab it." He did so, only serving to move the fabric with the force of the blow. He tried a couple more times, never piercing the fabric.

"Wicked." Called the black girl. My head snapped up to see her a few feet away, staring us. "Is that like some stab proof shit? Where can I get me some of that?" Looking closer at her I saw that she had almost aristocratic features that she would grow into, something that her horrible fashion distracted from. The juxtaposition seemed familiar, but I couldn't remember why.

"Parian." I told her, lies flowing easily as I tried to remember why she should seem familiar. "The Rogue that does clothing. Costs a bit, but damn fine work."

"That's cool as shit." She commented, looking out the window. "My stop, later losers." And with that she was out the door.

"Why does she look so fuckin' familiar," commented Herb.

"'cause I'm pretty sure that was Aisha Labron, also known as Imp when she gets powers after the Leviathan attack." I explained. "I got an option of one of six 'gifts', Perfect recall of the plot, with all the notes, seeing interludes in my dreams, a do over of power selections if I died, being dropped back home if I died, returning back home with powers if I win, or, the thing I went with, Plot Relevance. Narratively important shit's gonna happen around me all the time."

"Oh. That's. . . good?" He asked.

"It is what it is, right, so, other stuff. We both were drop-ins instead of inserts-"

"Literally!"

"Yeah, I don't think that it was supposed to be. But the two of us have no identities here, which is gonna make things harder, unlike. . . shit."

Herb looked around, trying to find the danger. "What? Are we gonna have to fight Kaiser or something."

"No, remember when we were. . . elsewhere, and that black and white thing passed by us laughing?"

He shivered. "Yeah, that was freaky."

"That was my father."

A deadpan look was his response. "What."

"He was an insert, so he wouldn't be physically dropped in, his soul would be, or maybe his mind, either way, I'm pretty sure that was him."

He just nodded. "Okay, so your old man's in here as well. Okay. Sure. Why not?"

I sighed. "So, back to us. We both bought skills, but I can't remember which ones. You picked up martial arts, while mine are learned. We both picked up parkour, which has been useful. I think we both have stealth, but that hasn't really been helping lately. I think we've picked up others, but I can't remember which. For positives, all three of us took plot convenience, which is a damn good thing."

"Why?"

"Because it means that until we upset the apple cart, our existence is already figured in with all the major player's plans. Contessa, the Simurgh, and anyone else with that level of ability to see the future won't freak out until we move and start messing up everything."

He looked at me before pointing straight up. "Um, hello, we met Ziz, shouldn't the power have stopped that shit?"

Shaking my head, I continued. "It doesn't stop them from seeing us, just from going 'oh god, I never counted on them being here, where did they come from, kill it with fire' just for being here. She knew we were coming so was probably around to take a look at us. Technically you. And that's it. Hopefully. That brings me to the next point, both my dad and I are Blindspots. We can't be seen by Precogs which will mean that as soon as either of us become major players it'll unsettle precogs as they can't read us, and the only others that they can't read are Scion and the Endbringers."

"I can see how they'd freak the fuck out over that shit."

"If I remember right, you'll get a lair while I'm a Noctis cape, so I don't sleep, and if I do I just remember things with perfect clarity."

"That's gotta suck." he responded solemnly.

"Why? Nevermind, the only other thing is that I picked up Negentropy."

"What the hell's that?" he asked.

I took a deep breath. "Okay, so the entities like Scion, they're doing this entire process of seeding worlds with powers, harvesting them, spawning and blowing up the world because they're trying to find something that will let them negate entropy and survive even the universe's end. Natural triggers from Scion? They've got a century or two of power use before it runs out. Eden triggers from Cauldron vials? They've got a century if they're careful, less if they have regularly use them. Constant hardcore use drops that to thirty to forty years, like Eidolon. Abaddon triggers like us though, we've got several centuries of Eidolon level use, but I think long-term, and I spent the points to make my shard give a middle finger to the heat-death of the universe, so it's truly eternal!" I finished with a grin.

Herb stared at me in stunned disbelief, finally informing me "You're a dumbass."

"What?" I started. "I know I could have handled the Lung thing better but-"

"No no no no," he held a hand up. "The Lung thing was like 'whups I added too much salt to my soup' levels of dumbass compared to this fuckup of, fuck, 'did I just pop the sun' levels of dumbassery. You copy powers, right?" I nodded, not following. "Which means you're going to want to copy Scion's right?"

"Yeah, I mean I kinda have to if I'm gonna go toe to toe with him," I agreed.

"Shush. Scion can feel people's shards, right? That's why he hated Eidolon."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Then what do you think he's gonna fucking do when he sees a shard, which has the one thing his entire species has killed I don't know how many to get just hangin' around? He's gonna go straight for that shit immediately!"

"Oh. Well. Shit. Damn. I. I didn't think about that." I admitted. "So no going near him until the endgame. I can manage that, sorta."

"What do you mean 'sorta'" he demanded.

"Well he stops the Leviathan fight, which both of us have to fight in. So we need to do so then GTFO as fast as possible. It adds some complexity to the problem, but I can change it."

Herb sighed. "What else did you get, anything else that's gonna get Scion, who's apparently evil, on your ass or anything like that?"

"Um, no?" I hazarded. "We both should have Cauldron vials, but you might get both of ours when you get your costume. The disadvantages we both got, um," I stalled trying to remember. "We both got Worst Day Ever, two levels, we all had Rough Start, I got two levels, you got three, so soon, probably today, you're going to end up homeless, in debt, and a social pariah."

"Well, we ain't got no papers for being here legally, so we're already homeless. If they track us down we're gonna be on the hook for that shop you burned down-"

"That was Lung," I insisted.

He waved off my objections, "Like they'll try to collect from the dragon of Kyushu. Nah, they'll try and pin it on us since we won't burn their house down for trying." He looked thoughtful. "Though that would be a good way of scaring off debt collectors."

I sighed. "Don't burn down people's homes Herb, it wouldn't work out in the long term anyways. Lung gets Bird-caged, and as good as we are, escaping from that parahuman prison is not something I want to try anytime soon."

"No promises."

I sighed. "So, dad's power is that he can't be recorded on anything, astral projection, but most importantly he picked up Destiny Weaver. It's like a more limited Path to Victory where he sees a person's possible fate in twelve hours, picks one, and then knows what to do to make that happen, so when we have time to do some research, we need to look over the capes in town to find any new ones, since he never picked out a cape name. Lastly there's your projection."

"Yeah, what I was actually asking about."

"Sorry, got sidetracked. So it can turn into any animal, short of microbes, and-"

He cut me off, "What about mythical animals, 'cause that would be awesome. Lung vs an actual dragon!"

I shrugged. "No idea, our powers get better with time, so maybe, and if not maybe later? It'll also have upper tier vampirism, so it'll heal from hurting others, but also get stronger and faster the longer it fights. Kinda like Lung, but different underlying mechanics. It can jump super high, and double jump in the air once per jump. You made it immune to poisons, acid, heat, cold, radiation, and electricity, and also gave it the ability to fake its death."

"Holy shit, that's awesome!" he exclaimed, getting looks from the other dog lady, the drunk guy apparently having gotten off while we were talking.

"Yeah," I whispered. "That's why I think it's taking so long, you aren't activating one second tier power like me, you're activating six at once."

Herb sat back, considering that, smiling broadly. I looked around and noticed the apartment buildings we were passing, with houses in the distance. They looked nice, really nice. That bugged me, but I couldn't figure out why. I got up and walked to the front of the bus, asking the driver. "Hi, how many more stops until the high school? My friend and I are supposed to meet someone who lives near there."

The driver gave me a questioning look. "It's the next stop." He answered carefully. "You're not gonna do anything bad are ya? No fighting?"

"What? No, of course not, we're just meeting some friends." I was confused by his statement for a second before realizing he wasn't looking me in the eye, he was staring at my eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on doing anything illegal. Thanks for the help." With that I walked back, motioning Herb to follow me at the next stop as we got out. Turning around after we got out, the bus left, showing us a beautiful gated campus, the words Immaculata High emblazoned over the archway.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.6

We stared at the school that was the opposite of our intended destination in everything but grade level as I softly swore to myself. Herb walked over to the map before he started laughing. "What?" I snapped, my patience having long since worn thin.

"We got on the wrong bus." He laughed.

"No we didn't" I insisted, "We wanted bus number 8, we took bus 8, how are we here!"

He shook his head. "I forgot you're a country bumpkin. Busses run both ways. We took the wrong one, should have gone across the street and taken that one."

My face scrunched up in confusion. "But, that's silly. Why not have the bus have one number for one route and another for the opposite way. It's a digital sign, super easy to switch to avoid confusion! Goddamn it I hate cities."

He continued to laugh. "It makes sense if you pay attention, just our luck."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "So where are we?"

He checked the map again. "Found it. Hmm, if Winslow is up here in the northwest part of Brockton Bay, we're in the southern part, on the other side of the city."

I groaned again. "And how far is it if we just fucking walked? With our luck if we get on a bus it'll take us to Boston, and stealing a car will probably get us caught immediately."

"It's a few miles that way," he pointed, "if we walk quickly we can probably make it in an hour and change. I'd get tired out long before but with these muscles it won't happen."

"Then let's move," I ordered, starting to walk. Herb caught up to me as we moved, covering the distance in ground-eating strides. "Do you remember how long she was in the locker?" I asked, trying to wrestle down my roiling irritation at getting constantly blocked from trying to do the right thing. All I wanted to do was save a tortured girl from severe psychological trauma, was that too much to ask?

He shook his head. "I remember it being hours, but that can't remember how many. She might already be out man."

I concentrated as we walked, moving swiftly, Herb having to jog a bit to keep up. "I'd say it's almost noon by now, if we make a bee-line for the school we should be there by one, one thirty at the latest. From there we either get her out, or she'll be out already and we'll see the cop cars and maybe an ambulance. If she's there you get within five meters and use her bug control to clear them from the area so she can calm down, and we stop by the hospital later to do the same thing to keep her out of the psych ward. If we see Emma, Sophia, or that other one-"

"I'm gonna punch her in the face." He interjected matter-of-factly.

I paused for a second before continuing, "Yes. No. Not then, first priority is Taylor, revenge later." We'd passed out of sight of the campus and were moving quickly through an industrial area, mostly clean but with bits of dirt here and there. "Wonder where we are exactly, a lot of white people."

"It's cause it's a nicer neighborhood," Herb explained.

I glanced at him. "Isn't that racist?"

He nodded, face full of honest agreement. "Yeah."

I looked at the clean streets and well-kept buildings. "But you're kinda right. Damnnit."

We continued powering through the streets, weaving back and forth to keep as close to a straight line as possible, turning a corner on a side street and stopping. In front of us, hanging out in front of a building were a bunch of young men, all of them white, several of them tattooed, and a couple with shaved heads. They stopped talking to each other as we turned the corner, looking towards us, several that were sitting down standing up. "Herb," I sighed, I did not have time for this. "What are the three major gangs in Brockton bay?"

Herb glanced back the way we came, a couple more tattooed individuals ambling up the sidewalk, eyeing us. "Well, you've got the ABB, who are a bunch of little boys, it's right in the name. You've got the whacked-out druggies we ran into who call themselves the 'Merchants' which doesn't make any sense whatsoever."

"They sell drugs Herb," I explained.

"Well, that's stupid."

"They were also probably high when they came up with the name."

He nodded. "That I can believe."

I waited for a moment, but he didn't continue. "What's the third gang Herb?"

He sighed. "Oh, that's the Empire Eighty-Eight, but. . ." he trailed off.

"The Neo Nazi White Supremacists?" I asked, looking to see about twelve in front of us, five behind us, and a few more down the street.

He nodded, turning to address the E88 thugs in front of us. "Hey guys, small thing." I sighed, not sure where this was going.

"What do ya want ya sand nigger!" one of them called back.

"What, he's not Arab, he's black you asshole!" I responded. "I know you hate minorities, but would it hurt to be able to recognize them?"

"And White," Herb interjected. "Black and white. Heil Hitler." He gave a half-assed Nazi salute. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be mocking or if he just didn't know what to do. "Suuuup? And Purity-"

"Dude, no." I tried to stop him.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"No. Whatever you're going to say, it's not going to help." I told him.

He waved his hands in negation. "No, no, what I'm saying is, dude, they all know she's hot!"

I quirked an eyebrow. How was this going to go well? "The ex-wife of Kaiser, their leader? Yes, I would assume she's hot."

"Right! So, have you seen her? 'cause, I'd like to see her, and. . ." I brought my hands to my face again, groaning into them, laughing a little at how bad this day was going and how my best friend kept. Making. Everything. Worse. "What?" he asked. "Is it wrong to want to see Purity?"

"You keep your dirty mongloid mitts off her you fucking moon cricket!" called one of the skinheads behind us. "No way we lettin' some Jackamammy son of a whore near her!"

Herb just laughed, "Yeah, I care what some morons who worship a failed artist think. Okay, I'm the weird one here."

I groaned into my hands again, louder. "Why Herb, why must you torment me so. Have I done something to offend you lately?"

"No!" he protested. "I just want to know. I need to know why they want to worship a failed artist."

I was so just sick of this day I answered without giving a single fuck. "Why Herb? Because they're not particularly good at anything, and don't want to put in the effort to get good at anything, so these scrubs went 'Hey, let's try using Identity Politics to get what they want, that never turns out badly! What have we all got? Well, other than our tiny dicks, tiny minds, and lack of ability we've all got white skin! I know let's focus on that because we have the intellectual understanding of a five-month-old baby so let's group things by color instead of shape or function and hey, white is associated with purity, and so that's us!' Ignoring the fact that white people are closer to beige, the most boring of all colors, and damnnit why do I keep doing this?"

"I don't have a tiny dick!" shouted one of the thugs.

I looked at the guy, shorter than the others, with a bit more tattoos and muscles, and responded in the most condescending tone possible. "Oh, I'm sure it's totally above average." I glanced at the people around him. "Given your sample size."

Herb looked at me in awe for a second before adding. "It would explain why Purity left, 'cause none of you could satisfy her. Okay, I'm done, let's run!" he finished, taking off for the smaller group and barreling through them.

I followed him, just in time to see another group of Neo-Nazis turn the corner. Oh you have got to be shitting me I thought as we closed on them. This group closed on Herb, knocking him back with numbers alone. He'd taken down one by the time I reached him, flipping up my hood and mask, falling into the melee with abandon.

Blows were taken and delivered, most of the thugs preferring fisticuffs to weapons, but that changed once the first dozen fell. I saw a flash of silver as one of the thugs whipped out a pistol and pointed it at Herb, shouting "Gun! Duck!" as I layered the barrel with zones, the gun exploding in the thug's hands when he fired, dropping the field in the explosion and taking the opportunity in the chaos to grab Herb and run.

We made it several more blocks, the industrial sections starting to taper off into a commercial district when another dozen skinheads jumped us, slowing us down for those behind us to catch up. As we fought I tried to move to fight those taking out knives, taking the slashes on my covered arms, little more than annoyances while my friend focused on doing damage. "Throw one to me!" he called as I disarmed a thug, more coming from who knows where. Shrugging I threw the de-knifed Nazi at him. He clotheslined him before jumping up and coming down on him yelling "Hulkster leg drop!" It looked like it didn't do that much damage, but more than the actual move it was pulled from. Honestly, as a martial artist, I felt embarrassed I knew the difference.

"Fucking wrestling." I muttered as I charged towards him, knocking down several guys who tried to stomp him as he got up. Seeing that he'd suffered a few light slashes and was bleeding slightly, I redoubled my attempts to get the blade users to focus on me when I saw a flicker of something as another thug flew towards him. He jumped up and rode the guy down yelling "RKO!" Again. "DDT!" and again. "People's Elbow!"

More thugs were coming, and by this time someone had noticed something was amiss. "Fucking capes!" one yelled, backing off. I turned to look at him, "Really?" with Herb looking around going "What? Where?" The thug pointed behind us as we all turned with the collected skinheads as another figure faded into view. It was a large man, eight feet tall, with skin a shade darker than Herb's, with the texture of crocodile hide. He was wearing a dark green shirt and black jeans, but his face drew the most attention. He smiled a predator's smile, his teeth all pointed, his canines oversized. His eyes were slitted, but with thin irises more akin to a lizard than a cat.

"What took you so long?" Herb asked the representation of his own will.

His projection practically rumbled as it smiled, all teeth. The Stand's lizard-like hiss deep enough that it sounded more a growl. What the hell? I thought. Is he making it talk, or is it taking cues from his subconscious or. . . doesn't matter, need to focus. The Stand casually backhanded a nearby thug, sending him into a stop-sign which bent in half. A couple more thugs pulled out pistols and aimed at us, at the Stand mostly, and fired. I'd zone'd two of them in the time they took to draw and they exploded. Throwing an arm over my exposed face I felt several sharp, stinging impacts.

Glancing around I saw several flattened shells hit the ground in front of me. Herb's Stand had moved in front of him and the two of them charged the stunned gunmen. As they beat them bloody I saw the Stand's wounds healing, the bullets being pushed out. As Herb fought beside him, I could also see his own cuts healing, as well as both of them slowly picking up speed. I was confused for a second, taking down another gunman near me as I looked at them, then had to blink back tears as my Sight activated and I Knew them.

Herb's Stand was almost hard to look at, it was so bright, being both of power and having powers of its own. My own power reached out for it, wanting to sample it and take it for my own, but I mentally pulled it back. Copying villains' powers just made sense, and heroes, well very few heroes around here truly deserved the title, but my best friend? No, that would be a line I wouldn't cross. I saw that he was copying his own Stand's power, healing as he fought and getting stronger and faster as he did so.

We started pulling back, more and more thugs were pouring in from god-knows where as we were forced southwest. Herb and his Stand were fighting side by side, both were shot, only to heal as they took down their attackers. Their speed and strength increased and I was having a harder and harder time keeping up, finally dropping zones on the bottom of my feet just to not fall behind, so great were my friend's joy in battle and having his power at long last as well. We ran and fought, I used my new speed to clothesline my opponents, exploding guns where I could. Some idiot brought out an Uzi which I promptly zoned, the explosion taking him out and the two thugs next to him. As we moved back we were being pushed closer and closer to an impressive looking skyscraper. Turning down the street it was located on I finally recognized it.

It was the Medhall building, the unofficial headquarters of the Empire Eighty-Eight as Max Anders, the CEO, was also Kaiser, leader of the E88 in Brockton Bay. Herb and his Stand raced down the street, Herb grinning while his Stand was laughing with feral glee, both moving inhumanly fast. I dropped a zone in front of me and landed on it, the zones on my feet being cancelled out by the stronger zone on the ground as it launched me forward in a flash of light, dismissing it behind me. I flew in front of them, dropping the zones on my feet as I broke my fall on a goon with a knife. "Wait!" I cried. "We need to go the other way!"

"Why?" Herb laughed, grin bloody, before glancing past me. "Oh."

I looked that way and saw the three figures striding out the front door in full costume. To the right was a man wearing only boots, loose pants, and a white tiger mask. To the left was a blonde woman in her twenties wearing a metal cage over her head, her body covered in scars. Front and center strode a man with an E88 tattooed on one arm, a wolf over a swastika on the other, a metal wolf mask covering his face. "Shit," I yelled. "It's Hickwolf, Stormtigger, and Crockett!" There was a moment of dead silence as the fighting stopped, several of the Neo-Nazis staring at me in horrified fascination. "Fuck, fuck, shit, I mean Hookwolf, Stormtiger, and. . . Cricket?" I tried to correct, but the damage had already been done.

"Wait, pause." Herb said. At this the Neo-Nazis charged us, though the three parahumans watched. The thug my friend had been fighting took a swing at him, but his Stand grabbed the offending hand and broke it before negligently tossing the thug away. "Cricket's hot," he commented, dodging a knife and punching his attacker in the ribs, the thug hitting the ground several feet away. "In her cut up awesomeness. Oh god," he shivered.

Cricket looked distinctly uncomfortable at Herb's lecherous gaze. "Don't tell me you have a thing for scars man." I pleaded, backfiring a gun, before being shot in the back, my costume taking the blow as I turned, grabbed his gun by the base, pushed the muzzle to his shoulder, and covering his hand with my own as I pulled the trigger.

Herb took two shots from a thug, one tearing his cheek open. His Stand took out his attacker as he turned and grabbed a knife wielding Neo-Nazi, quickly breaking his arms, his cheek healing as he did so. "Dude," he said, as if he hadn't just been shot. "I've got a thing for everything, and she'd probably love blood."

I grabbed the gun from the guy I'd just made shoot himself, turning and shooting another guy in the leg as he drew down on Herb. "Pan-sexual motherfucker. New rule, shouldn't have to be a rule, no dating white supremacists!"

"Oh come on," he whined. Several of the thugs now giving him and his Stand a wide berth. "You know I could break her!"

Cricket now looked furious, disgusted, and was maybe blushing a bit? It was hard to tell behind the cage. Stormtiger glared at Herb hatefully while Hookwolf looked to his right at his lieutenant. Cricket looked back at her boss, holding the bottom of one her kamas to her throat "I get the nigger," she buzzed electronically.

Herb winked at her. "Yes baby, yes you do." She howled incoherently as she charged him, his Stand meeting her halfway there. She dodged it blows, her kamas flashing out, the miniature scythes tearing at the flesh but not cutting deep enough to do serious damage even if he was human, but enough to bleed.

Stormtiger looked at me. "You shouldn't have come here nigger-lover." He growled. I Knew his power, Aerokinesis, and saw his white and flare as he waved his hand, pushing Herb one way as I dodged the other, three waves of compressed, cutting air flying where we had been, gouging out the concretes as they flew into the store behind us, another MaHotma Grindy coffee shop. What is it with those places? I thought, turning back in time to see Stormtiger flying at me, using his power to propel him into a superhuman long-jump. I Took his power for my own, wrenching a bit of his white and black fire into me, using it to help push me down as I ducked. He stopped in mid-air, hand coming down, extending more air-claws to rend me. I dropped a speed zone behind me, stepping on it and jerking it back. He turned from me to Herb, snarling "Just like an inferior race, needing another to do you fighting for you!" as he brought his hand down, sending blades at my friend.

He dodged, barely, as I came up. "That doesn't even make sense, they're both black!" I called, grabbing a dropped gun and emptying it at him. The bullets didn't touch him, careening to either side.

"You don't get to-" he started. I saw Herb's Stand closing from behind and dismissed my zone, the flash of light cutting him off as I blinked in time with the effect. Stormtiger took one step back and started to turn and, getting an arm up to block the Stand's punch. His block might have saved his life, as I heard the snap of bone and he was sent flying into the coffee shop. I blinked in shock before I heard a metallic roar and Hookwolf was on the Stand, ripping and tearing. It heaved and threw the villain after his lieutenant, turning to me and growling in a way I took to either mean 'Run, I've got this' or "Back off, he's mine!'

I nodded, either worked for me, and took off, putting zones on my feet to skate towards Herb who was 'fighting' Cricket. Neither of them were hitting the other, except a couple of thin lines, barely perceptible against his skin, on Herb's arms and legs. Herb looked past her at me as I rushed closer and dodged a blade, slipping to the side and spanking her ass with all his strength with one hand, the other I grabbed as I moved, pulling him behind me as I skated, seeing her, Knowing her, and Taking the green and white flame of her Acoustokinesis for my own. Dodging a blade as well, I smiled at her shriek of outrage as we sped out. Herb calling "That was fun, let's play again later!" as she screamed with frustrated bloodlust. He climbed up piggyback as I retreated. "That's a girl who needs to get laid," he informed me as we fled.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.7

We travelled north and east, once we were back in downtown I stopped, jumping, dismissing my power while layering a weaker set on my feet, using those to slow down until I could dismiss them enough to run to a stop down an alley. I stood there for a moment before looking over my shoulder at Herb, battered and bloody on my back. "Get. Off." I growled.

He laughed, letting go and wincing as he hit the ground. "Sorry, you're not my type," he quipped looking at himself and back at me. "Oh, that isn't fair," he complained as I took off my hood and mask. "I look like an axe murderer while you've just got a bit on your nose." I wiped my face with my spotless sleeve. "And now you don't even have that!" I looked as the blood was absorbed into my coat. It was. . . disturbing to watch. I looked up at him speculatively. "What? he asked.

Walking towards him I explained, "This might sound gay, but I need to wipe you down." Taking his blood-stained arm, I ran my gloved hand down his arm, leaving clean skin as I did so.

He watched as I continued to do so, "Oh yeah, work it bitch!" he lisped. I stopped and glared at him before he laughed, pointing out, "Wait, if you can make it longer, could you make it a lot longer? And maybe wider?"

I did so to my sleeve, confused and trying to avoid any of the subtext of that statement, until he grabbed it and started using it as a towel to 'dry' himself off. I turned away, as while intellectually I knew he needed remove the blood all over his body, I didn't want to know he was doing so with my sleeve, even if it seemed to be self-cleaning. After a few minutes, my sleeve went slack and I mentally ordered it to retrace, turning back to Herb. His shirt was cut and shot to hell, as were his pants, but he's managed to avoid crotch wounds, so he was at least semi-decent.

"Okay, now that that's over," I started. Herb opened his mouth and I continued, "And we shall never speak of it again. EVER. We need to get to fucking Winslow. Fuck, if we move we should get there as school gets out. That's probably too late to pull her out, but we might still be able to help her. We could get there faster with powers, but I think if we try to move openly with them, we'll end up in a fight with all four gangs in the city today, and I really don't feel like doing that right now."

"Four?" he asked. "I thought there were three."

I gave a bitter laugh as we started walking. "Nope. Four," I said counting them off on my fingers. "Merchants. Azn Bad Boyz. Empire Eighty-Eight. Parahuman Response Teams slash The Protectorate."

He winced. "That's kinda harsh."

If I wasn't so tired and frustrated I might have agreed, but my charitable impulse had called it a day after ambush number four. "Under any other director than Piggot or Tagg, yeah, maybe, but they run their organization just like the gangs. As soon as things even start to look bad it's all fear and intimidation. Also they're giant fucking hypocrites, claiming to be arbiters of Law and Order while breaking their own rules to cover their asses and keep their 'gang' from looking bad. Piggot violates not only the law, but the unwritten rules all the time. Hell, if Legend hadn't been there when Armsdick admitted to setting up villains to die during the Leviathan attack, he'd still be leading the Protectorate when the S9 showed up. Then she ordered a missile strike on the villains that she had agreed to a truce with against the S9, and it did more harm than good. Tagg, don't get me started. He takes over, I kill him, end of story. By that time I should have enough powers to do it without anyone knowing who did it. Alexandria might be a stone-cold bitch, but she doesn't deserve to die because she followed Tagg's dogmatic re-interpretation of facts without checking. Beaten into submission, sure. Given another scar her powers won't let her heal, sure. But she didn't deserve to die."

Herb had stopped. "Hold the fuck up, Alexandria dies? Who fucking kills her?"

I looked at him, "Who the fuck do you think? It's the Queen of Escalation herself! Alexandria needs to breathe, and your body is built to hack up water if you're drowning. You can't hack up bug, especially ones extruding silk. Now start moving, we need to make that girl's life not as fucked up so she can use her talents effectively without horrible mental damage."

He sped up to come even with me. "Holy fucking shit. What else happens?"

"You're going to meet Cauldron later to join their ranks, you want to know about them now, or later so you don't give yourself away in case Ms. Library is there. She can cold read people almost as well as Tattletale, but is only about three-fourths as effective, with enough power to compound any mistakes she makes." I snapped. I realized I was starting to lose my shit, but this day had already put itself up there on my worst days ever list.

"Dude, are you okay?" he asked.

I gave a chocked laugh. "Why yes, what would ever make you think otherwise. I've just been doing my level best to save a girl from an experience that scars her mentally and ends up putting her in a psych ward for a week. And I've been stopped at every. Single. Goddamn. Step." I growled and flung my hand at the alley wall, gouging out three deep rents in it with Stormtiger's power. "I'm going to fucking walk there and if Armsdick, or Miss 'I was just following orders' Militia, or any other Protectorate or PRT flunky try to stop me I'm going leave them a moaning pile on the floor. Today has sucked so tremendously bad that I just wish it were over, but I have a goddamn task and I'm going to goddamn do it. Okay!?!"

"Jesus! Yes! Okay! Let's go!" he exclaimed, moving ahead of me. "Here I am, going to help her!"

I cringed as I strode up next to him. "I'm sorry," I said after a few minutes of walking. "The only people who are really white hats in this entire goddamn city are most of the Wards, who are too busy following the corrupt adults. Fuck it, maybe Dauntless and Velocity, were good, but they both bit it in the Leviathan attack, so who fucking knows. The Undersiders are good, if prickly, probably why they're instrumental in saving the goddamn world. Along with Taylor and Parian, they're the only capes worth giving a damn for in the city. The thing that really pisses me off is Hypocrites, and I can't stand corrupt authority figures." I realized I was winding myself up again and took a deep breath. "What the fuck happened to your Stand?"

Herb hesitated, looking like he was making sure I was done talking, venting, whatever the fuck I was doing, before he answered. "Hookwolf killed him, but he has the ability to fake his death and make it stick, so the tin-doggy probably thinks he killed a real person." We turned into another alley, Herb checking both ways before he held his hand out, his Stand coalescing, giving me a growling grin. My friend rolled his eyes before waving his hand, causing it to disappear.

"Does he have a name?" I asked. "And are you controlling it directly, or what?"

Herb thought for a while. "I'll call him Enter, and my villain name will be Break. We'll be B&E."

I considered the name. "But wouldn't the eight-foot-tall lizard man be Break?"

He laughed. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Rolling my eyes I asked again, "So, how intelligent is Enter?"

He pondered it as we cut across another street, downtown giving way to middle class urban structures. Not quite suburbs, but not quite the heart of the city either. "It's," he started. "It's got an animal intelligence. I can kind of feel it in the back of my head, like a dog tugging at the leash, but the leash is my mind. I can control it kinda, give it orders, pull it back, but it feels like a mean son-of-a-bitch who'd rather kill an enemy than do a soft takedown."

"Ah," I mused. "Name makes more sense. You need to break before you enter, and you need to give the order before he'll go. Also, it's on your orders that he breaks, he's just the one that enters first."

He laughed. "Yeah, something like that."



We walked quietly the rest of the way, still taking large strides with a motion more robotic then I normally would use, but I wanted to get there without attracting attention and walking quickly tended to do so, doing so gracefully even more so, and I couldn't be bothered to put in the effort. We passed through the commercial district, on the eastern side this time, closer to ABB territory than E88. As we got closer to where Winslow should be I got increasingly more nervous. What if the cops were there and had heard of our previous fights? How could they not? We'd fought fucking LUNG on the goddamn boardwalk this morning. The Merchant thing might have been kept under wraps, but there was no fucking way our E88 brawl went unnoticed. Enter had definitely killed people, Herb might have, not having experience with super-strength, and I was pretty sure I didn't shoot anyone lethally, but a clothesline just right at the speeds I was moving could snap the spine just as effectively as a trip to the gallows.

I glanced at my outfit, the same one I wore at the E88 fight and went to change the color scheme again before shaking my head. I had clothing that could be literally anything, why did I keep with the Alex Mercer cosplay? The leather jacket protecting against knives was obviously BS as the cloth of my hoodie did the same damn thing. When we ducked down another alley I re-absorbed the jacket leaving just a hoodie. Should I go even stick with hoodies? I switched to a windbreaker with a hood, the fake vinyl looking as unassuming as the fake cotton had, giving it a geometric design like something from the 80's but with muted colors. It was odd enough it wouldn't draw attention, but once I had attention it would probably attract the eye enough I could ask a question and leave before they noticed my eyes weren't human.

I sighed as we walked on, looking up I thought I glimpsed a flagpole that probably marked the school. I was tired with a capital FU. In the long run, the points I'd gotten for taking two dips of Worst Day Ever would help a lot, may even be the deciding factor in the world's survival, but I was paying for those fucking points. I had one task left: find Taylor and make her life a bit less of a living hell. Saving her was out of the question by this point. I stopped and asked a pedestrian for the time. He looked askance at me, my jacket really, before checking his smartphone, grasped tightly, probably so I didn't steal it so something, and told me it was three ten. I pulled a bill out of my wallet without looking at it, giving it to him and thanking him. He gasped and I saw that it was a twenty. With as much cash as I had, I didn't care.

"He's gonna remember that," Herb told me. "Even more than your shit fashion sense."

"He won't remember my eyes or your fucked-up clothing, and that's all I give a shit about. Let's see how badly we shit the bed on this." I realized I was speaking without intonation, something I only did when I was running on fumes. Fuck it, one more thing, then we rent a hotel room and crash. Shit, those required valid ID's. We'd find a motel, pay twice as much, hopefully use Taylor's power to shoo out the bugs, then crash. At least my Immunity meant I didn't have to worry about disease.

We turned the corner and saw the school, a run-down, graffiti-covered shithole. Looking around I could see a couple groups that were so stereotypically the makeup of the three 'criminal' gangs it was painful, but no cops, no ambulances, nothing. Reaching down into my eyes, I tried to replicate the prickling of my eyes that heralded the activation of my power sight. I got nothing for a moment before I felt a soft warmth blooming across them, the world a bit more saturated with colors, but nothing special. Panning my vision across I spotted something walking out the doors, it was a flame done in shades of greys they might as well be a study of black. Hmmph, I would have guessed Taylor to be mottled grey shot through with wasp yellow. Oh well.

I started to walk that way when my eyes tracked down to Taylor, only instead of seeing the tall, gawky white teen I expected I saw a muscular black teenage girl striding confidently out towards two others, a tall, decently attractive ginger girl and a short brunette who was cute, but in a way that was more little girl than actually attractive. Looking back at the black girl's power I looked harder and Knew it, Partial Dimensional Travel, locked to one that ran to a sub-dimension of the one I was standing in, one where matter was only partially real, as was radiation, gravity, and a few other things, but electricity ran true. I was looking at Shadow Stalker, and in that moment, I wanted to hurt her so very badly. I looked around trying to find someone who wasn't gang related. After a moment, I saw a boy playing with his smartphone, sitting on a bench, his backpack between his legs, feet resting on one of the straps. Smart kid I thought. I walked over to him and casually asked. "Hey kid," I gave a fake belch. "This is gonna sound weird, but I kinda went on a bender and, what day is it?"

He looked nervously up at me and said "Um, it's April Eighth."

I couldn't help but give a broken sounding laugh. "That late? Fuck. Thanks kid. You're not half bad." I stumbled back to Herb, only half faking it.

I glanced up and saw Herb staring at Shadow Stalker & co., glancing over as he saw me stumble over. "Shit man, what happened to you?"

I laughed a bit more, it just hurt too damn much. All the running, all the fighting, taking so many goddamn risks, almost dying to Lung for goddamn NOTHING. "You know, what day, it is?" I asked, laughing silently so hard I was starting to cry, hanging on to him for support.

He looked panic. "Um, I don't know, April, late March?"

I nodded, still laughing. I was feeling nauseous, but it was nothing to how I felt inside, and that statement made no sense, but all the sense in the world. "And remember what they did to Taylor, how it got so bad, how it was allowed to fester for so goddamn long without her finding out?" I whispered, barely able to breathe enough to talk.

Herb, looking panicked, tried to guide me to an empty bench but I refused to move from the spot, the goddamn spot I'd been trying to get to all damn day. He took a second. "It got that bad because they left it like that over. . ." he winced. "Over Christmas break. Shit, we're late, aren't we?"

"Only by about four months. Everything we did today? FUCKING POINTLESS!" I hissed. He got it then, but didn't look nearly as pained as I felt, and part of me wanted to hurt him to make him feel that bad.

And with that, something in me snapped. Funny thing is, my will never was like other people's or at least how other people talked about willpower working. Most people had positive will, they wanted to do a thing, they spent the effort, and did it. Simple, clean, and easy to understand, like the points I spent to make this character. With it, they could be tempted to spend it on anything if you were convincing enough, even things they swore they'd never do. My will, I don't know why, or how, but I had negative will. It's not what I would do, but what I wouldn't do that mattered. When I focused on something, I did so with laser intensity. Because what I would not do is EVERYTHING but what I was doing, more or less. It also meant that unlike other people, I had lines I Would Not Cross.

One of the inviolate rules I lived by was to never hurt a friend unless it would help them, as sometimes was the case. Surgery was just stabbing and slicing to help after all, and you could do the same thing emotionally pretty easily. This urge, to hurt him so that he'd understand just because he wasn't displaying it? That wouldn't be hurting him to help him it would be hurting to help me and I Would Not Do That. So, once that thought hit and ran down the decision tree, triggering all of the relevant circuit breakers, my emotions cut off, I hit the ground on my knees in front of a storm drain, and very messily laughed at the ground, expelling heaving multicolored yawns until I had nothing more to give.

I staggered to my feet, wiped off my mouth, spit the last of the sick down the drain, and took a deep breath. I looked at my friend, concern writ large over his features and gave him as much of a smile as I could manage. "I'm good." At his disbelieving look I insisted quietly, seeing everyone around us pointed not looking at us while staring at me, "No, really, I'm good until tonight at least. So, the story doesn't start at the trigger, but at the beginning of Skitter's career. Duh. I was so focused I forgot, just another part of my Worst Day Ever. If I hadn't already, I probably would have just triggered. So, let's find a place to crash, because Fuck This Day. It's Friday and she doesn't poke the dragon until Sunday night, Monday morning. Is there anything you want to do?"

Herb looked at me. "You're sure your fine?" I nodded. "Good, because I need to go do something," and with that he turned around and started walking right towards Shadow Stalker, Emma, and what's-her-face. I knew he was going to do something stupid, but to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to really care. He wouldn't kill them, and that was my limit concern, more for him then them.

He walked over, a big fake grin on his face and they looked at his torn-up shirt and pants warily, though I was pretty sure Stalker was checking him out. He was old enough to be her father, even if he didn't look like it anymore. Ugh, no accounting for the violent psychopath's tastes. "Are you Emma Barnes, the model?" he asked, voice veritably dripping with excited interest.

The Ginger was taken back for a moment, before grinning under the 'attention' she was receiving. Blushing as she glanced down at the holes and cuts in shirt to see his hard muscles, not spotting the lines of dried blood that Sophia was staring at. Whores I thought, starting to quietly amble over, flipping my hood up, dragging up a mask to hide my face, everyone's attention on Herb. "You're a fan?" she asked. "Of course, what's your favorite piece?"

Piece? I thought. You're a fashion model, not some artist's muse. I knew Herb was going to do something stupid, embarrassing, and probably violent, but I just was all out of fucks to give. Herb put his finger to his lips, tapping it. "Honestly, I can't pick one, but I do know what you'd look good in."

She faltered for a moment, glancing at Sophia before rallying. "Oh, what is that?"

"Oh, a-" his fist flashed forward, striking her square in the face with a crunching sound, "Broken nose" he finished smugly.

Emma dropped to the ground, squealing, holding her face while the third one, Madalyn? Said "what the hell-" before a chop to the back of her neck knocked her out like a light.

Sophia's face contorted with rage, her hand going into her pocket and pulling out a knife "You're fucking dead you bastard!" she screamed, leaping for him before I caught her from behind. Holding her arms. She tried to turn the knife to stab me, the blade poking ineffectually at my windbreaker sleeve as she tried to bite my glove.

I looked down at this girl, whose very existence on the junior superhero team called the Wards, despite what she had done and was still doing, typified everything I hated about the Protectorate, and I knew exactly what to say. I leaned down, pitching my voice oddly, willing the fabric to muffle it a bit further, and whispered in her ear. "Stop squirming girl, Prey should know its place."

With that she freaked out, kicking and screaming, before finally giving in and using her power, shifting to shadow to get away. With that, I Took her power, absorbing the angry, scared black flame, and she was so busy stumbling away as fast as possible that she missed Herb glancing over and seeing her, backhanding her as he only turned the back of his hand shadowy, knocking her into a lamp. She hit it, ground the current through her body, and seized up, going solid once more. I looked at Herb. "We're probably gonna regret this later, but I just don't care. Turn shadowy, I'll go down with you, then use her power to get us the fuck out of here." I clapped a hand on his shoulder as he turned to shadow, shifting me as well as we sank into the ground. He waved to the onlooking teenagers, several probably had their cell phone cameras out, so I didn't look and show my probably starkly glowing inhuman eyes.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.8

Once we were out of sight I turned on my copy of Shadow Stalker's Powers, extending them to cover him as I willed us down and through the earth, hopefully deep enough to avoid any power lines. After a few minutes, or a few dozen, it was hard to estimate time underground, I brought us up slowly, putting my hand in front of me as we rose. Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck raised, I lowered us, moved in a random direction horizontally and tried again and again until we finally broke the surface in someone's backyard. Taking a deep breath, I looked around, taking in our surroundings. I walked out to the sidewalk, looking in the house as I walked by it. It looked empty, but I didn't trust my luck to come out in front of the one thing I needed. I froze, what if my dismissing the idea that it could be useful was the thing that would later lead to more problems, thus making the day worse? Shaking my head as I started to think that's what the thing making my day the worst wanted me to think I ignored that infinity hole and just decided to move on, Herb following as we walked down the street.

I changed my windbreaker into a long-sleeved t-shirt and my pants to slacks, my shoes to boots, and got rid of my gloves, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal guy walking with his. . . underdressed companion. Okay, we needed to get out of sight either before someone saw Herb or before I could get him some new clothes. Looking around at the houses I saw one that had a for sale sign with a bit of spider-web on it, but not much. Taking it as an omen, I walked up to the door and saw the inside had some basic furniture, but it looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a bit, that combination of dirty and dusty that furniture gets even if there's no one actually living there.

A quick phase into shadow got me through the front door, looking around I saw there was a panel for a security system, but the display was blank. Flicking a couple light switches yielded no result as well. Lastly, I turned my hand to shadow and ran it back and forth through the door and frame, and didn't even get a tingle of electricity, which was perfect. Whoever owned this house they didn't want to even bother pay the base amount that all houses consume by sheer dint of having interior circuits for the power to run through. Flipping the deadbolt and the lock from the inside was something that wouldn't raise any alarms.

I opened the door and let him as he looked around saying. "Damn, with a power like that, you're going to be such a good supervillain it isn't even funny."

I shrugged. "It's more of an assassin power then the kind of mass control or large-scale ability a supervillain needs."

He looked at me as I closed the door. "Are you okay? Like, seriously? You should be doin' the entire 'no, I'm gonna be a hero even thought I kill people and steal things.' Thing."

I rolled my eyes. "From villains, not from civilians. It's different."

He put his hand out. "You didn't say anything about heroes there."

I sighed. "When I meet one other than me, I'll start including them in my vague absolutist statements. Are you still copying my Immunity power?"

He started, closing his eyes for a second. "I think so? I've been doing it all day so it's kinda automatic."

I laughed, genuinely. "You're borrowing my stuff without asking and now we're moving into a house together. We're the gayest pair of straight guys ever." I waved him off. "Go see if there's a first aid kit or something in the bathroom, as long as you borrow my power you're immune to disease, so you should be fine but a bit of wound cream won't hurt." I headed upstairs, finding both the master bedroom and guest bedroom furnished with beds, pillows, the works.

I poked around, finding nothing actually valuable, the house set up to show, but nothing worth taking. Walking downstairs I saw my friend applying cream to the lines on his arms. "This place looks good, but I'm hungry as fuck." I informed him, as the ache in my stomach burned. "This place has no gas or electricity so I'm gonna go hit up a big box store, pick up a camping stove, a pan, and some ingredients so I can come back here and make us some food."

He stopped what he was doing and gave me a 'you're being a dumbass' look. "Or you could not. You do all that, you'll get picked up by the PRT or something."

I sighed. "Okay, that might be a bit much. I don't even know where to find something like that. I saw a Chinese place down the street, how about I just pick up some food from there, I'll be back in like, fifteen, twenty minutes."

He nodded, "Now that's not stupid, it would be better if you could call."

"With what phone?" I chuckled. "I was so paranoid about being tracked I ditched the only one I picked up." I subconsciously reached in my pocket as I continued. "It's not like I have my. . . actual phone." I finished as I fished out my real phone, undamaged, from my pants pocket, it's weight so familiar I forgot it was there. "Holy shit." I murmured as I hit the button, the phone waking up from sleep mode with a full battery. "Fucking how?" I wondered. Even having it in sleep mode all day should have drained at least a quarter of the battery.

"The hell?" Herb asked, looking at the black rectangle in my hands. "How did that not break on. . . anything? Fucking re-entry at least?"

I shrugged. "No fuckin' clue." I opened the web-browser to find the name of the Chinese place, realizing that I didn't know my current address the same time I got the no-connection page. "Right." I laughed. "No signal, because it's meant for a different network." Rolling my eyes I slipped it back in my pocket. "So, ignoring that weirdness, what do you want to eat?"

"Um," he said dumbly, focusing back on me. "Sushi if they've got it, if not General Tso's. Do you need money or. . ." he trailed off, laughing. "Right, we're supervillains, we're good."

"For that, you're paying" I called as I walked out the front door, turning and walking down the street. Looking around I realized that the Chinese place was the next street over, walking the long way until I found it. Taking a step in I saw they did have sushi, and the place looked authentically Asian enough that it might even be good sushi. I thought about it for a second. I was immune to disease, and so was Herb if he was less than fifteen feet away from me, so it didn't really matter. I was waiting in line, looking around when a medium sized Asian man walked in, the very definition of unremarkable. That lasted until my Sight kicked in and I Knew him. Replicator, the replacements held form while the original degraded into ash, the replacements also capable of appearing a distance away from the original, though limited to line of sight if one was to make the replacement at range. I looked at Oni Lee, Lieutenant of the Azn Bad Boys for a second before stepping out of the way, eyes down. Seeing him tilt his head in inquiry I explained quietly. "Not sure what I want sir, please go ahead of me." He stared at me for long enough for me to sweat, wondering if I'd done the exact wrong thing and now would have to fight Oni Lee in my Civies, though I'd be in costume in a moment. Shit, everyone saw me walk in, I'd need some way to keep them from talking. Double shit, if it came down to it, I'd need to kill everyone in here. At least Stormtiger's power would make it easy. I really, really didn't want to do it, but if my hand was forced, I'd do what I needed to, no matter how much it sucked. As I was thinking all of this time passed. I almost jumped when Oni Lee nodded in thanks, mumbling the words robotically as he stepped in front of me and took my place in line.

I made a show of trying to decide what I wanted, letting someone else go in front of me before stepping back in line. Not relaxing until the cashier told him "Mr. Lee, your usual," handing him a bag from the counter, not asking payment as the supervillain nodded in thanks and walked out, pausing ever so slightly as he passed me before quietly walking out the front door. Ordering sushi and General Tso's (what Herb didn't eat I would), I waited for the order, took it and walked back to the house we were squatting back. I called "Hey Herb, I got your Sushi, you'll never guess who I-" I stopped as I saw a closing rectangle of white light in the kitchen, Herb visible on the other side of the portal as it closed.



I paced back and forth wondering what the hell to do. That was obviously one of Doormaker's portals, so Cauldron got off their collective assess to induct him into their ranks. I froze. Unless that is, something went wrong, on The Worst Day Ever. Goddamn it Herb, what if I needed to track him down and save his ass? I'd seen the portal, but I didn't think to take the power, and I needed to see the person to Know them. Besides, the power would be massively underpowered without Clairvoyant to point the way. Ugh, I needed something to do, something to plan with. I couldn't remember all the capes Cauldron had, just the major players. If I fought one of the big three, I was eighty percent screwed. Actually, more like forty percent. Alexandria, I could copy and fight, and Legend I could tangle with and live if I survived the first shot. Eidolon was pure bullshit space worm magic. His power to have whatever three powers he needed would be something I could never take, as like Herb's copying powers, it had no physical effect. The powers he pulled up I might be able to copy, but I didn't get the skill like he did and I'd be in one long game of catchup. Contessa and Number Man had thinker powers, not external effect, so I was screwed there. I could probably handle the Custodian, my aerokinesis was suited for it, along with the ability to mimic her powers.

What the hell was I thinking? Trying to fight Cauldron? At this point? I took a deep breath and considered my options. I'd need a strong alpha strike if, and only if, they tried something. Stormtiger's claws were strong, but anything that negated powers would dispel them. I needed something that was dangerous without being dependent on a power for the dangerous bit. I took an inventory. Stormtiger's wasn't gonna help. Shadow Stalkers were useless here as well. Cricket's might let me get a quick handle on the area on the other side of the portal, but I had no practice in using it and didn't want to rely on it in case the portals did something to sound. I didn't see Hookwolf, Lung, or Oni Lee's powers in such a way as to copy them, and even if I did, the first two were useless and there was NO way in hell I was ever using Oni Lee's, it was the quantum teleporter problem on steroids as I knew the original not only ceased to exist but fucking died every time he used his power. That left me with Skidmark's power, my speed zones, and my brain kicked into high gear. I could apply the zones to body parts, even parts that weren't exactly flat, all I had to worry about was recoil when it hit me.

I was using them to move me and repel others, but what if I used it to move something, just with myself as the platform! It would have to be something small if I wanted any speed out of it without getting knocked down, but it was an idea. I opened the Chinese food bag, taking out a pair of chopsticks, breaking them apart as I took a stance to counter a forward push. Layering three layers of speed zones along the length of my right arm, I had an azure strip running from shoulder to wrist. I carefully moved my arm back and forth, but it didn't interfere with my movement in the slightest, only shoving me back slightly as I brushed a wall. I pushed my arm out, taking the Chopstick in my left hand I held it over my bicep, keeping my hand pointed down and out of the way. I felt a light tugging at my fingertips, but nothing else. Lowering my hand slightly jerked my hand forward, the arc of my shoulder swinging it out of the zone. I moved my hand back, waiting a second before dropping the chopstick and it shot off as if thrown, clattering against the far wall, never touching my arm.

Walking over and picking it up, I layered another zone down, the blue darkening as I did so. Pointing at the far wall the chopstick flew off even faster, snapping in two on impact. Nodding, I layered another zone, then one more for the hell of it, the blues shifting into light purples. I grabbed the other chopstick and dropped it. The crack was almost instantaneous. At first I thought it broke the sound barrier, but walking over I saw it had shattered into tiny pieces, the tip buried in the wall. I grabbed a plastic spoon and a kitchen knife from the counter, laying them next to me so I could grab them at a moment's notice. I sat there in the darkening kitchen, waiting for Herb to come back, for who knows how long, the only light in the room was the orange sunset punctuated with the glowing purple sparks from my arm, providing an almost malevolent ambiance more than actual lighting, but my enhanced eyes still saw everything fine.

Fishing out an eggroll with my left hand I munched as I waited, the only excitement from when I let my wrist turn, catching the table with the field and shoving me and my chair back several feet. Moving to my original position, I waited in the dark, watching the point the portal had opened. Finally, after who knows how long a white line shown empty space, widening into a glowing white doorway, a sterile white corridor resolving inside of it. A tall muscular figure wearing a dark suit, purple undershirt, gold tie walked towards the portal from the other side. Covering the figure's head was a shiny clear mask, the skin underneath covered in scales. He looked vaguely familiar, but the figure's face looked nothing like Herb's, it's hands covered in golden metal gloves that extended into gauntlets up its sleeves. Incongruously, it appeared to be wearing royal purple Adidas.

I grabbed my projectiles, arm out, spoon ready to drop as I called. "Stop! Who the fuck are you?"

The figure jumped, before stepping through the portal saying "Dude, it's me!" The clear mask moving unnaturally as he talked. "Look at this baller costume! And check this out! Adidas Superstars!" he held up a foot to show off his sneakers. "I've always wanted a pair!" I heard someone call from the other side of the portal and the person who could only be Herb turned around. "What?" he called. "Oh right!" and a large metal suitcase came sailing out of the portal, edges fighting through the portal exactly. Herb caught it, stumbling to the side as I saw a flash of a green cape that had to be Eidolon on the other side.

I jumped and held firm onto the spoon with my pointer finger and thumb. The knife however, slipped from my middle and ring fingers, landing on the field and rushing forward in an instant. I saw the blurred knife fly past Herb's head and the green caped hero on the other side go down, the knife sticking out of his shoulder. "WHAT?" I heard a woman yell from the other side. "That wasn't supposed to happen!"

Another voice, this one weak and male answered, "There isn't anyone else in there just. . . Chinese?"

"Doormaker, close the damn door!" a harried older woman called, the portal quickly closing into nothing.

Herb stared at me, only his eyes easily visible but the mask making it hard to read his expression.

"Um. Oops?" I offered.

"Oops? You just shot a knife at Eidolon!" He volleyed back.

"Hey!" I defended. "I came back just as they took you. I was worried they'd decided to kidnap you and were coming for me too. My finger just, slipped."

"How did you-" he started staring at the glowing strip running down my arm. "No," he breathed.

I grinned. "Yeah. Turns out if you layer speed zones enough times like this. Bam! Instant railgun. As long as it's not too big the recoil isn't that bad. Also, close your eyes." I waited a second before dismissing it, the flash lighting up the room. "You have to be careful not to put your arm on a table or a wall or something, but it's pretty awesome."

"You're right," he agreed, "Skidmark's a fucking dumbass." He shook his head before reaching under the chin of his and audibly popping it off. With the mask off I could see the scales and the lines in the clear material that had shaped his face into unrecognizability. "Dude, you'll never believe what happened."

I sighed "I can guess. Man, the Chinese is almost cold and I didn't meet Oni Fucking Lee just to eat cold Chinese and warm Sushi. Let's eat, then go to fucking bed. I'm dead fucking tired and just want to go to sleep and this day to end. We can talk in the morning."

He sighed, grabbing a platter of Sushi. "This is really good!" he commented after the first few bites. "Oni Lee?"

I rolled my eyes. "What part of tomorrow didn't you understand? Short version, I met him in his civies and even if I can use his power, I'm never using his power."

"Oh com' on!" he complained around a mouthful of fish. "Now I hafta know!"

"No," I told him. "Tomorrow." Taking part of the food with me I started walking away. "And for making me worry, I'm taking the Master bedroom. Try to get in and we'll see if your costume can stand up to Stormtiger's claws!"

As I went upstairs, I faintly heard "Why do I feel like I just got told to sleep on the couch?"

 

[PublicLee S.]

Conception 1.x (Interlude; Medhu?)

Some mornings, you just wanted to roll back over in bed, knowing the day was going to be unpleasant. For Medhu Patel, this was not some vague omen, it was a certainty. Rolling out of bed, he tried not to disturb last night's entertainment. A leggy brunette named Betsy? Bianca? Bernise? He was sure the last one was a sauce. Regardless, trying not to disturb her he slipped out of bed and entered the bathroom for him morning ablutions. Being third of four children growing up in small apartment in Surat led to one getting up earlier if they wanted privacy, and getting up just before dawn was a habit Medhu found hard to break. Early to rise and so on as the Americans said.

He loved India, and still wished to return for time to time, but it was a distant ache, easily ignored. After his brother Dev gained his powers when he was 16, and gained an ego to match his name, he'd wanted to leave. As a Garama, a flashy cape, "Ajey" fought foes with impressive acrobatics, always managing to be where he needed to be. Glowing a golden light, he was hard to look at directly, much like Brockton Bay's Purity in retrospect Medhu laughed to himself. But it was hard to fight what you couldn't look directly at, and he'd used it to great effect. With that, he set an impossible standard that Medhu could never hope to approach, in the shadow of his brother's glowing success.

After years in that shadow, he'd finally realized that no matter what he did, no matter what he achieved, he would, at most, come in a distant second to his older brother. His younger brother, Vadin, always would have a special place in their mother's heart, though part of him didn't realize how smothering that place was until he'd lost it. His older sister Hafiza, had his father's attention, which left Medhu ignored. With this despair, with this rudderless feeling of drowning in a dark ocean, left to the wayside by his family he's finally had gotten what he had wanted after so many years. He had triggered, in the worst way possible.

He hadn't gotten something flashy, something he could use to overshadow even his brother, something that would let him attract attention like his brother. Instead, he had gotten what the local government would call a "thinker" and "stranger" power. His brother could see the immediate future, doing just what needed to be done. He could see half a day away, pick the result he wanted, and let his power carry him to that destination. Dev had enhanced physical abilities, able to push his acrobatics to ludicrous degrees. He had gotten the ability to become a spirit as he dreamed, leaving his body to see the world beyond, invisible, intangible, and invincible, though his parent's overheard conversations hurt him even more than he thought they would. His brother was hard to grab, having a natural forcefield he used to escape harm, slick against his foes hands. He found that he had something entirely different, one that allowed him to escape any kind of recording, a power that meant that he would never be a member of the Garama, as how could one stand for pictures, when the pictures showed nothing at all?

He'd considered joining the Thanda, the unofficial capes that truly ran India, the ones that no one ever spoke of, but were expected to help the greater population regardless. His parents, while he had slept, had talked about if Dev had become one of those instead. How they wouldn't have the glory, but they would be much more wealthy for having one in the family. With that Medhu had thrown away his ideas of revealing what he could do, discarding his ideas of using his powers as 'Yojana", and started to plan, for even untouchables were talked about. In this his powers were next to useless. He could plan perfectly, but only up to twelve hours in the future.

He had used that power at first, playing the markets to make enough money to set him up for life in a single day. He'd been so happy, so amazed at how easy it had all been. The next day he'd gone to do it again, and seen, not another day of wealth and profit, but all paths but one leading to his death or imprisonment in the next twelve hours. That day had been an eye opener, a harsh course in humility, as following that path had led him to lose almost all the money he had gained, putting him at point only slightly better than when he started.

With this lesson in mind he had tried again, going for lesser victories, always seeing the overwhelming profits in his view, but realizing that they truly were overwhelming. As time passed he'd made enough, hiding it places others would not see, that by his eighteenth birthday he was ready to leave India, and his parents, for America, the land of opportunity where there was no Thanda constantly watching him. He would be leaving Dev, who had made sure to grind his superiority in Medhu's face every time they'd met, which had become mercifully rarer over the years. He'd heard that having powers made you more antagonistic, studying them online from college courses paid for by his trading, passing his interest off as him wanting to learn more about his brother, and he could see the truth in it, as Dev, while arrogant, had never been quite so unpleasant about it before triggering. His powers though, so much more useful than his brothers, had never pushed him to prove his brother wrong. If it came down to the brute fighting that his brother so reveled in, Medhu knew he could win. He'd seen that path after all.

Coming to America, he'd chosen the moderately large city of Brockton Bay, warm enough to not be too large a shock to the system, but nothing on the heat of his home. He'd looked for something unassuming, something he could use his powers to negotiate deals for, something that where long-term plans weren't nearly as important as immediate actions, and had settled on coffee shops. For the name, he'd gone with something both intrinsically Indian, but also something his parents would not want to brag too much about. He'd send enough money that they'd be obligated to talk about him, but in such a way that they wouldn't want to.

With that in mind he'd opened the MaHotma Grindy coffee shop, serving a drink that was a staple of the modern world, associated with a man that had romanticized the stone age. He'd loved the irony, and so very few got the joke. He'd grown them, opening them across the city, and beyond, using promotions to grow interest and profits, always keeping one step ahead of his competition.

At roughly the same time, he'd debuted his "Rogue" identity. Rogues were capes who used their profit for purely monetary game, it was eminently an American concept, and he loved it. He'd called himself "The Neutral Party", choosing an English name to further distance himself from his homeland. Using his power, he could, if it were possible, see two different parties coming to an agreement everyone was happy with in a single day, and simple do what was necessary to achieve it. Pushing the money through shell companies, he made himself an investor in his own growing coffee enterprises, along with half a dozen other startups. He was independently wealthy, had achieved a level of respect he never would have at home, and was, in many respects, happy at age twenty-six.

Preparing a small breakfast, he ate greeting the sun as it crested the horizon, lighting up the city of Brockton Bay, the city which partially ran on his drinks. Sighing as he viewed possible futures he thought he caught a flicker of something on the horizon when he felt a force slam into his chest, burning his mind as he fell from his chair, paths slipping from his mind as he tried to find a way out of whatever was happening.

A few minutes later he clambered to his feet, mind swimming. Head filled with memories that not his own, fifty years as a white man in a world with no superheroes. This influx of memories as Jack Rycroft, a man who lived from a world without superpowers, settled into his head, permeating and coloring everything he knew, the extra years staining him until he was more Jack than Medhu.

Groaning he got to his feet, hearing a woman's voice calling "Are you okay?" responding without thinking with "I'm fine Susan," the name of his wife, Jack's wife.

"Whaaat?" came the shriek in response. "My name's Bella you jerk!" before he saw the flash of brown hair and a black dressed form before the sound of the penthouse door slamming reverberated.

Medhu, Jack, whoever he was just sat there, wearing his breakfast, for a few minutes before picking himself up and cleaning himself off. Plopping down on his couch, he reflexively used his power, looking at possible futures. As he gazed at them, mental images in his mind, rich with meaning, several of them flickered and distorting. Looking through Medhu's memories Jack saw this had never happened before, and wondering if it was Jack's own memories messing things up. The harder he tried to concentrate on it, the worse his burgeoning headache became.

Giving up on it, he searched through his memories and called up his assistant, cancelling his appointments for the day. His assistant sounded concerned, but he passed it off as a flu, trying to center himself.



Several hours later, having looked online for information, he was quietly freaking out. New memories had information of Brockton Bay, not as a place, but as a fictional location in a story his son had read bounced around, and wasn't that a thought. Medhu didn't want kids, but Jack had two, the youngest just reaching adulthood, and he was okay with that. He wondered how much of him was Medhu, and how much was Jack, as he started to default to Jack in his mind, even if his body was Medhu. Considering this metaphysical tangle, he received another call. This one was to inform him that some people had been attacked outside one of his stores. The police were investigating it as a possible hate crime, as someone with a fake Indian accent had called 911 with one of the victim's phones.

Reaching out with his powers, even more of his possible futures weren't working correctly, anything taking him to the east part of town rendered non-viable. Taking a deep breath, he submerged himself in Medhu's memories, trying to find out what the heck was going on. An hour later he received another call. This time his panicked assistant informed him that this time his boardwalk store had been the scene of a cape fight. Someone had picked a fight with Lung in his store. The ensuing cape fight, while theoretically bad for business, would reap dividends in the long run from promotions alone. Luckily, he'd invested in cape insurance, a necessity in Brockton Bay, and that would pay for the damages on its own. Looking online, there had been a fight outside a corner store, covered by the bloggers his feed monitored, but his were the only stores that had been damaged that day.

Looking at his options, he started to stare at one option that glitched occasionally. Unable to look at it directly, it would still serve to give him insight into just what the hell was going on. Choosing that, his body went on autopilot, putting on his jacket and calling his driver, asking to be driven to his store in downtown.

Walking in, the Baristas saw and served him, settling him down. He sipped his coffee, checking his phone as he waited for whatever his power wanted him to do. Sitting there, he heard the sound of a horn blaring and looked up. A figure in white darted into sight outside the window just as his power shorted out, causing him to jerk backward as the figured rolled forward, launching itself through the plate glass window, falling onto the table he had been sitting at, which collapsing underneath the intruder, spilling Jack's coffee on his face.

Stunned, Jack could only stare as the figure looked up, glowing, swirling, multicolored eyes meeting his own for a moment. The figure stumbled to his feet murmured an apology, and stuck a twenty in Medhu's hands as he staggered out the door. Jack tried to find a path to do something, anything, but they all glitched into a horrible mess, except the one that had him just stay here and get another coffee, so that's what he did.



After making an incident report to the police, filing the insurance report, and finishing his new coffee he once again searched for the path to finding what the hell was going on. Searching the web, he found no record of any hero with luminous rainbow eyes, except maybe one of the Fallen, but those Endbringer cultists had no reason to be here. Something about the cape's voice tugged at his memory, but he couldn't be sure how. It almost felt familiar to Jack, but that was just silly, as Jack wasn't even from this world. Following his new path, this one again taking him to find out what was going on, he had his driver take him down to the industrial district. Once again, he sat and waited.

This time though, he pulled up his power over and over again. The longer he waited, the more options glitched into unusability. Once it dropped to two: hide in the back or run, he had enough. Standing up, the only customer left in the store was himself, the contingent of professionals, all white, had left all at once after checking their devices, which was highly suspicious, and it was time to do something. Looking at the two baristas, both white, he walked over and told them "Leave. Now."

One of them, a blonde man with noticeable tattoos, looked offended. "Who are you to tell us to-"

The other, a slim brunette, elbowed him in the ribs. "That's the owner Eric!" she hissed before turning back to him. "Do we still get today's pay?" she asked sweetly.

As he looked at her, the run option started to glitch. "Yes. Go. NOW!" he nearly yelled. They looked at each other, bolting for the door. As soon as they opened it the sounds of screaming, gunfire, and a deep, growling laughter. They looked at him, fear on their faces. "Run or hide in the back, pick one now!" he commanded. The man took off, tearing off to the right while the girl ran back, starting to hide behind the bar where he opened the door to the back and waved her through. She ran as he stayed in the door, watching as a mass of Empire Eighty-Eight thugs ran by, some in fear, some firing as they did so.

A moment later their enemy ran into view. One of the figures seemingly flying in, crushing the chest of a thug as he landed, killing him instantly. The colors were different, but the costume was the same, and the glowing rainbow eyes of the villain were instantly identifiable. Rainbow eyes talked to two others, one an eight-foot-tall black man, the other had skin a shade lighter, and was only slightly shorter than Rainbow eyes. The shorter one looked familiar, not to Medhu, but again to Jack.

Words were exchanged before the fight started again, stopping after less than a minute, several more thugs dead, the two black men both having some sort of brute and regeneration power. At that point the white supremacists seemed to back off, only for one window of the shop to explode inward, the girl behind him crying out in fear as Jack saw three parallel lines dug out of the floor. Stormtiger's ability Medhu's memories explained. This shop was in E88 territory and as long as the employees were white, there wasn't a problem. Through the broken window he heard words exchanged, two of the voices tugging at his memories. A shout of "That doesn't even make sense, they're both black!" easily heard, pulled on them even harder. A moment later Stormtiger himself was sent flying through the now broken glass, rolling to a stop covered in cuts and splinters, which was as close as Medhu had ever seen to instant karma. After that though, he heard the metallic chainsaw-howl of Hookwolf, who was thrown in after Stormtiger, ripping up half his store. Looking out a flash of greys sped past the window far too fast to be natural, grabbing the smaller black man and disappearing. This is why I pay for parahuman insurance he told himself as the metallic canine launched itself out, wet tearing and ripping sounds coming from beyond his line of sight. Staring out at his fourth disturbed shop today, the third one that would need serious repairs, he started to sigh, thinking that he'd have to pay his legal team far too much money to make sure the insurance company paid out, but that was the nature of the game. As he was considering this, he finally recognized the voice of the cape that had led, indirectly or directly, to the property damage today. That voice, was the voice of Jack's Son.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.1

As the sun started to crest the horizon and the orange light of dawn started to shine on the drawn curtains of the bedroom I had claimed, I knew it was safe to get up. The previous evening, after stalking off, I'd eaten my food and listened with half an ear to Herb complaining about me for the better part of an hour before he'd gone quiet, likely asleep. I had laid down to go to sleep myself when I had a horrible thought: I was a Noctis Cape, I didn't need to sleep, and if I did I'd instead review my memories in perfect detail. That, combined with today still being the Worst Day Ever meant I'd probably see some seriously messed up things, maybe revisit all of my traumatic memories, or see enough of a half-forgotten memory that I'd re-interpret what had actually happened based on my new skewed 'recollection'. Either way, going to sleep was a bad idea right now, so instead I laid there on the bed and planned, occasionally getting up to pace as I came up with and discarded new plans until I realized that since this was still the Worst Day Ever, any plan I came up with was probably going to be seriously flawed. With that I laid down and waited. Doing nothing. For hours.

With the dawn of a new day, and one guaranteed to be better I finally left the room, grabbing a few pieces of leftover sushi from the kitchen when I heard Herb yelp in fright. Stepping lightly so as not to make a sound in-case there was trouble, I walked into the living room, seeing two Herbs in identical clothing on the couch, I froze.

One of them glanced at me while the other took a lazy look before rolling his eyes and slumping into the couch, closing his eyes. "Herb?" I asked, as the one who glanced at me looked back, keeping the other him in his line of sight.

"Yeah?"

"What happened?"

"I showed up," the relaxed Herb informed me, not bothering to open his eyes. "Been waitin' for a while." Switching to Power Sight I saw a purple and gold flame coming off of the twitchier Herb, the smaller flame coming from the relaxed Herb feeding back to the one who responded, the sleepy one possessing all of the alert Herb's powers, except for replication.

"Oh," I said, addressing the other Herb as it all clicked. "You must be the clone. Replicant. Whatever."

He opened one eye to glare at me, "Excuse me?" he asked, sleepily offended. "I'm Boojack."

"That's a yes," I told him, walking over to extend a hand. "Welcome to the team."

"That's a no," he insisted, the sleepiness vanishing. "I'm Boojack."

"Are you Herb?" I asked.

"No. I'm Boojack!" he insisted, talking as if I were a particularly retarded child.

I rolled my eyes. "That's what I was asking."

"Um. No. You called me a clone," he corrected.

I pointed at Herb, who looked like he wanted nothing to do with this conversation. "He literally has a power that replicates himself. You're the first replication. You're 'Boojack', because of course they'd all have their own names.

Boojack looked over at Herb. "You know, your friend's an asshole."

Herb looked disgusted. "No he's not! Shut up you fucking replicant."

I winced, turning to my friend. Or at least the original instance of him. "Don't make it a slur man, that isn't cool. This isn't Blade Runner."

"You're the one who called him that first," he defended.

"Yeah," I tried to explain. "But not like that. I called him a replicant because he's a replication of you."

"Nah," Boojack defended. "He used a great term. Blade Runner's the shit!"

"Blade runner isn't the shit!" Herb responded.

"It's pretty good," I chimed in. "Especially for its time, especially when you consider the amount of practical effects they used."

"It's boring as shit!"

"It's an old movie!" I retorted, mimicking his tone. "They move slower. The pacing can drag a bit but it's more atmospheric than a standard action movie."

"Nah, I'm sayin' it was boring back then." Herb pronounced. I can't believe he's pulling the age card I thought.

"No it wasn't," Boojack protested. "It was a deep introspection on humanity and the idea of being human."

"See!" I proclaimed. "Boojack's got it right! . . . How does that work?" I finished, murmuring to myself. "So they're not exactly you?" I asked Herb. "They have your memories but different. . . perspectives?" I hazarded.

"Yeah," Boojack told me. "Yesterday sucked balls."

"And all that fighting?" I asked, hopefully I had a less blood-thirsty Herb to help balance out the original. "That sucked too, right?"

"What? No. The fighting was the best part, we got to show off how strong we were. It's all that running that sucked." Or maybe not.

"So, you are your memories, so if you have them all you should be the same, unless there's some other force at work? Whatever, welcome to the team!" I finished, once more extending my hand.

He looked at it for a second before ignoring it with a shrug of "I was always here," before settling back and closing his eyes again. "It's just this dumbass was keeping me in."

I frowned, that statement sounded off. "I think his power has a timer."

"Yeah!" added Herb, "It's not like I couldn't have used help yesterday."

"Then you should've taken a few minutes and figured out how to use your Stand after you landed," he reasoned.

My friend looked thoughtful for a second, then angry. "Oooh," he said in a childish voice. "Intelligent!"

I looked at the uncharacteristic act from my friend in concern. "Is it bad that I'm siding with your replicant on this one?"

Herb looked at me in betrayal. "Dick."

Sometimes I really didn't understand my friend.



Herb and I ate the leftovers, discovering that while the place didn't have power, it had water, and re-used the soda bottles to have something to drink. Boojack had gone back to sleep as we talked. "I can't believe I punched a teenage girl," he opined.

"Yeah," I responded, not really seeing the problem. "Ya punched a fucking bitch, who deserved way more than that, what's the problem?"

He sighed. "Still a teenage girl. I, I can't believe I did that."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can. We've both read the book. You know what she's done!"

"I know, I know, I know," he waved off, trying to ignore my point.

"And what she continues to do!" I pressed, not letting him be guilty when there was nothing to feel guilty about.

"I get it," he said, in more of a 'shut up' way then an 'I agree' manner.

"And she never gets better," I continued. "Even through the end of the book she's a broken, hateful, monster who rejects anyone trying to help because she clings so hard to her 'predator/prey' bullshit. She never admits what she did was wrong, even when presented with overwhelming proof that even makes sense in the ideology she claims to believe!"

"It's not that though," Herb told me.

Finally, the real reason I thought. "What is it then?"

"It's the fact that I punched, not just a girl, but a teenage girl!" he reasoned. "You know just, how, wrong that is?"

"When the fuck have you given a shit about either of those things?" I demanded.

"When it's punching a fucking teenage girl!" he responded.

"It's not like punching a baby, man! Some teenagers are at least assholes, if not fucking monsters. Some grow past it, some don't!"

"Let me just feel bad about this?" he asked.

"No!" was my immediate response, "Because you punched someone once that deserves to be fuckin' beaten bloody for the shit they've done! I'm really not getting the problem here."

"Ya know what, let me feel bad about this while you go take a shower."

"Fine," I conceded. "But stop feeling bad about this when I get back!"

The shower was ice cold, but with my immunity to temperature it was more bracing than uncomfortable. I took off my clothes, admiring my new physique and pausing as I wondered exactly how my costume worked. I took it off, but when I activated my sight I still saw a thread of energy connecting it to my chest. Shrugging and taking a shower, though the soap was all floral scents, I got out and, purely by accident, summoned my costume to me, having it disappear from the rack and reappear on my body. "That's neat," I told myself as I walked out.

Herb still looked guilty so I opened with. "You still feel bad about punching that bitch?"

He perked up immediately. "Of course not!" he responded, all traces of guilt gone. That was, weird I thought as I sat back down.

"I don't either, fuckin' teenagers!" Boojack called from the couch.

I quirked an eyebrow at Herb, who just shook his head.

"So, you met fucking Oni Lee, I bet that was cool!" He asked, changing the subject.

"Not really," I responded, shaking my head. "Dude's got, like, no emotion. It's probably from his fucking power. Do you know what his power is?"

He nodded, looking at me in confusion. "Duh, it's teleportation, but cooler."
"Nope" I told him, shaking my head. "He's got exactly one power, replication. Thing is, every time he uses it the original dies. I didn't meet Oni Lee, I met the something thousandth clone of Oni Lee. Even if I get that power, I'm never using it, and I need you to promise me that you'll never use it if you get in range to copy it. Okay?"

"But it's such a cool power," he whined.

"Herb!" my voice was a whip-crack of command. "Do Not Use That Power! I don't want you to fucking die, and you have no fucking clue how it'll interact with everything else? What if the only things keeping his clones together is his power, that means you get one teleport, then you die."

"Fine," he conceded. "Yes massa'"

"Honestly, I don't give a shit as long as you don't self-terminate through sheer stupidity. Don't copy powers that could kill you, and will slowly erode away your personality until you've got nothing left. I want a partner, not a fucking slave." I waved toward the steel case that Herb had brought back from his meeting with Cauldron. "So, how did the meeting with the cape-illuminati go?"

"It went. . . fine," he told me, giving a furtive look to where he'd stepped out into the room from Doormaker's portal.

"Doesn't sound fine," I prodded.

"Let me show you what they gave me," he said, nearly jumping over to grab the case, before placing it on our table, pressing his thumb to the lock and stating, "Contessa's got no sense of humor" before it clicked open. "It's the password I set," he explained. "I think whatever set up our getting' here wanted to fuck with them."

That meant Abbaddon, the third entity. I didn't want to think about the implications as he moved to open it. "Remember the vials?" he asked.

"Yeah, the ones we picked out," I responded, starting to get a bit excited.

"Remember how you didn't get any of your vials?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes. Open the fucking case!" I demanded.

"Oh come on!" He teased, starting to open it slowly. "Bum bum-" he started to sing as Boojack yelled "Just open the fucking Case!"

Herb looked let down. "You guys have no appreciation of dramatics," he whined. "Just enjoy the: Bum bum- now it's just ruined." He pouted, plopping down on a seat.

I rolled my eyes, he was such a child sometimes. I turned the case and started to open it slowly going "Buuuuum Buuuuum Buuuuuuuuuuum Bum Buuuuuuum!"

"Uh huh," he responded indifferently. "Twenty first century fox? Really?"

"What? No. That's the theme from 2001: A space Odyssey!" I replied, offended. Did I suck that much at singing?

He considered for a second, nodding. "That works, I was going for Paramount."

"I could see that working," I conceded as Boojack yelled "JUST OPEN THE FUCKING CASE!"

"So what's in the case?" I asked, opening it up and moving next to my friend.

"Our vials!" he announced, motioning inside.

The case, which was foam lined, contained six metal vials, a computer, a keycard, a smartphone, and a small booklet. Looking at the Vials the tops were labelled 'Overwatch', 'Union', 'Storm', 'Lee', 'Cable', and 'Healer'. Each was metal with a glass strip showing the liquid inside, each a different color. "Holy Shit, that was my dad!" I exclaimed.

Herb looked at me, confused. "The vials were your dad?"

"What? No! That one," I pointed to the 'healer' vial, "is what my dad picked from the CYOA. If it's here then he must be too!" I blinked as pieces started to fall into place. "He was that other guy." Seeing Herb's blank look I explained. "In that prismatic hell where we were falling. The black and grey thing was him."

"The laughing thing?" Herb asked dubiously.

"When he's in a lot of pain he laughs," I said. "I do the same thing, but I've never been that badly hurt when you're around. Shit, shit, shit, who is he?" I asked.

"Wait, What?" Herb asked. "You just said that he was your dad."

"Yeah, but he chose to be inserted as an adult CEO instead of dropped in, and was going to be a Rogue. That means while he'll still be him, he won't look like him, and will already have an identity and everything."

"Well," he said, thinking about the problem. "You still look like you, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So even if you can't recognize him, he should still recognize you. You can still poke around a little, but let him find you. Way easier."

I sighed in agreement, turning my attention back to the case. We left the vials in their foam cradles as Herb took out the computer and tried to boot it up, but it was out of power. The phone wasn't, and unlocked at Herb's thumbprint, the opening screen showing us a map application, leading from our location to somewhere in the trainyard. Flipping through the booklet, the first page had "Entry Code: 68623762678537", the following pages being contact numbers for services with prices, for everything from body cleanup & new identities to a dog sitter and food delivery.

"This is gonna be useful," I commented, flipping through, taking pictures of the pages with my phone to add later. Looking over and seeing Herb trying to get away from the map app on the phone without success I posited "I think that's your secret base, and the phone won't let you do anything else until you get there."

"That sucks!" he responded, slipping it in a pocket inside his suit jacket.

"What happened when you met them?" I asked. While the booklet was interesting, the electronics seemed a bit. . . lacking.

"Oh, you know. Stuff."

I rolled my eyes, walking over to the living room. "Boojack, wake up, where going to someplace that hopefully has power."

He was up in an instant. "'bout time!" he said as he passed me out the door. "This place sucks."

I followed him out, helping Herb repack his case before walking out.

We walked at a moderate clip, starting to leave the subdivision when my sight activated, a girl with grey and yellow flames jogging down the other side of the street. I almost tripped, but kept on my feet as I tried to appear nonchalant, the girl giving the three of us a glance as she kept on moving, her power reaching out in every direction, but the connections were passive, not active, and my copying slid off of the tendrils of her power.

Herb waited until we were a few blocks away before asking "Was that?"

"Taylor?" I responded. "Yeah, she's got Telepathy Based Anthropod Control. That's it. It's limited to keep her from noticing things below a certain size, and would also probably work on worms, but there's nothing else. No secondary power for multitasking, or anything like that, it's just she can connect her mind to bugs, and the completeness of the connection is reliant on her." I reached down and picked up the ant that her power had connected to on my pant leg, tossing it onto someone's lawn. "She wasn't doing anything other than connecting to them, so I didn't pick it up though."

"But, she controls them independently!" Herb tried to point out. "No way that's not a power."

"Skill, probably born of need." I argued. "In the book she spent a week in the psych ward because her connections were wide open. She probably forced her brain to adapt, along with her power helping, before she drew it down. I could probably do it too if I did that once I got her power, but it explains why Grue couldn't do more than general commands when he borrowed it."

"Damn," Boojack chimed in behind us. "That's impressive."

"Yeah!" Herb agreed with himself. "She's so on my team!"

I cocked an eybrow. "You mean our team."

He looked a bit guilty. "Yeah, sure, that."

"Herb. No poaching capes," I reprimanded. "I know we're going at this different ways but we're on the same team."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, sure, whatever."

"Do I need to call dibs? Because I will if that's how we're playing it."

"Children," Boojack rumbled.

"Hey!" we responded in unison, before looking at each other and laughing.

"Okay," I said after we got our giggles under control, Boojack giving the occasional long-suffering sigh. "So, we're going to the railyard, which I think is right on the border of Merchant and ABB territory."

"Two groups who want to kick our asses. Thanks, Numberman," Herb commented.

"What did you do Herb?" I outright asked him, prompting Boojack to start laughing.

"Nothing happened." He told me, before turning to Boojack. "And don't tell him!"

The replicant waved him off. "It'll be funnier if he hears it from you, 'cause you'll fuck up telling him about it."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Not today!" he insisted. I shrugged, hoping that since today was better, it wasn't going to blow up in our faces. "So, between two groups that want to kill us."

"The ABB will only be after me. They won't know you were there," I corrected.

"I sucker punched Lung!" he argued.

"Lung's not gonna recognize you because it was my ass he was concentrating on fighting. He knows I had a friend, but won't connect it to villain you, just a black guy I was with."

"Just your ass?"

Of course that's what he would focus on. "It was a really shitty fight"

"All he saw were your eyes," Boojack pointed out.

"They're distinctive eyes!" I retorted, to which BJ nodded.

"Besides," I reasoned. "With all the shit we stirred up yesterday, the PRT's gonna be out in force, which means they'll lay low for a couple of days. Well, until Lung gets captured, then all hell's gonna break loose." We walked for a few minutes considering what was going to happen, or at least I did.

"So," I started, addressing another issue to break up the monotony. "The Vials. We've got your three, my two, and the one dad picked out. They're all stupid strong as vials go."

Boojack hmm'd in agreement. "DM said they were from their special reserve, and we only got 'em 'cause Contessa picked them. You know what that means?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "They have a collection of vials they made at first before they learned how attenuate the negative effects to cut down on mutation. Between that and the freshness of the materials they'll probably kill you, but if they don't, holy shit. That's the run that created Hero and the Triumvirate. They don't use them because of the dangers, both if they don't use them, and if they do and can't control the result."

Herb looked at his case impressed. "And we know these work so. . . Holy shit. What happened when they used them at the end of the book when Scion wrecks everyone's shit?"

I snorted in disgust. "They don't. It's why I didn't go down that path, even though it would have made a more powerful character. They play things too close, relying on having so many contingencies they don't figure out what to do when shit gets really bad, wiping out their base assumptions they made all their contingencies on in the first place. It's the reason that Taylor has to step in, even though what she has to become. . ." I shivered. Herb shot me a questioning look. "Don't ask. Bad things happen when you start modifying the brain to increase power potency, and while I'll keep the Khepri option available, it's some last resort shit."

He took a moment to process that. "Fine, so, you know who you're gonna give your vials to?"

I perked up. I'd planned for this last night, and this was a great chance to see if my plans from then had been flawed. "I've got one: a minion master type with super high survivability that'll be great for Danny, but the other, I've got no idea."

Herb winced. "Yeeeah, Danny's not the best choice."

"But," I reasoned. "If he has powers than that means Taylor won't have to cut him out and have more of a support structure."

"Okay, here's the thing. . . The guy. . . He's a nice guy," I nodded. That was one of the reasons I was willing to give him powers in the first place. "But," Herb paused again. "He doesn't have the, wherewithal, to. . ."

"Do what needs to be done," I supplied, kinda seeing where he was going, even if I didn't agree.

"He's too idealistic," Herb agreed.

"You'd think working for the dockworker's union would have gotten rid of that," I tried to argue, even as my traitorous mind connected dots I hadn't realized existed, that Herb had read with a glance. "But-"

"But it didn't." he finished. "He doesn't want power, even when it would help him. He thinks he's being moral by doing things the hard way, takin' that shit on himself. It doesn't help anybody, but he feels better not takin' shortcuts, but with what we need to do, we need all the shortcuts we can get. And if he finds out Taylor has powers. . ." he trailed off, searching for the right phrasing. "When he finds out that Taylor's done some bad shit to get a lot of good shit done, he has a hard time accepting it. Even when he knows that's when she needed him most."

I sighed, nodding. "When he found out she was sneaking out, he locked her in, the kitchen I think? How does that work? Anyways, he locked his daughter, who not even six months previously had been locked in a space, albeit smaller, and had a psychotic episode, in without thinking about the fuck he was doing, because he was the parent, and had the authority, which he was losing, so he felt like he had to do something. Right. Damn. No vial for him. Now I need to find two people."

"Sorry," he offered.

I waved away the apology. "Nah, you're right. Damn, who do we give these two. These things are crazy, even more so than the standard vials. We're all like, hey there normal person! Have some superpowers! Have more powers than me."

Herb laughed. "We did make them damn powerful."

I nodded. "Nothing I couldn't defeat, though maybe more than you could. It's kinda interesting that as the story went on, the number of normal hero dropped to practically nothing? Isn't that, like, para-privilege or something?"

Herb waved away my concerns. "It's just they can't effect the plot, and are too used to getting their asses saved."

I nodded. "The Superman problem, verging to Jedi problem territories?"

Boojack piped up. "Superman I get, save people enough they get stupid 'cause they expect to get saved, then mad when they don't 'cause it makes 'em look stupid for bein' so weak, but Jedi?"

"Right, So," I started as we entered the central railyard, Herb pointing the way as he followed his phone. "You have the Jedi right, and anyone can potentially be one. They're superpowered, with the same base powers and different specializations, and their philosophy is kinda fucked after the Ruusan Reformations-" I saw that I was losing him. "Basically, they want to go around and help people, so the government lets them, but any resource the government doesn't have to use, it cannibalizes for some other department that's clamoring for the funding, even if they don't need it. There's also the brainwashing, and philosophical problems, but that's why it's not a full on Jedi problem. This government," I waved around indicating the city around us, "On a city, state, national, and even global scale has gotten so used to heroes fighting villains, and normal crime, that police forces and militaries have atrophied except for the occasionally paranoid group. They've adapted to endbringer attacks, but only so much as to evacuate or shelter, not fight, so even that is pushing the world towards collapse, which is why Cauldron wanted the Golden Morning, Scion's rampage, to happen sooner rather than later. But that also means that when shit goes down, and something that is to endbringers what endbringers are to capes starts wrecking shit, everything collapses, because everyone pushed it off on the capes, who aren't ready for shit that bad. When everything goes down everyone retreats to their enclaves and starts raiding each other in the chaos, all telling themselves they could handle the problem if it came for them, and not willing to weaken themselves in the slightest by helping someone else. It's a 'First they came for the protectorate, and I didn't help, because I was not protectorate' problem that ends with everyone dead if they aren't forced to."

"So Taylor," Herb started.

"No! We're not trying that unless everything completely goes to shit, and it won't because we're not fucking morons. Cauldron threaded that needle, and only managed to not make a problem almost as bad as the previous one because of the specific circumstances of her experiences. They had to thread the needle, because they let the highway get blown up, the tunnels flooded, their planes wrecked, and their hallways demolished, leaving only the smallest of openings to pass through. While maybe replicable, I'll be doing my damndest to make sure it never comes to pass." I commanded.

"Sheesh man, I was just asking," Herb placated. "Besides we're here."

All three of us looked at the abandoned warehouse in front of us, dilapidated to the point I felt like I was going to get tetanus just looking at it.

Boojack voiced what I was feeling, "Dude, Our base looks like shit."

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.2

I had to give Cauldron credit, no one would ever think this was a Supervillain base. Herb checked his phone, which gave a beep and a picture popped up on its screen. Looking over his shoulder I saw a picture of the wall, with circled portions of rust labelled with numbers. While I puzzled over it Herb gave an "oh" of understanding and walked forward, tapping at the circled points. Having done so a mangled piece of wall, sharp rusted steel edges waiting to scratch someone, seamlessly parted revealing a keypad. I read off the numbers from the picture I'd taken with my phone, Herb typing them as Boojack watched. Code delivered, another section shifted revealing a rusted door, which popped open without any input on our part, the lights inside flickering on.

Herb looked hesitant so I went first, Shadow Stalker's power ready to get me the hell out of there if I had to. Inside was a classily upholstered interior, both functional and aesthetic, with an entryway leading to a receiving area, leather upholstered chairs around a table set up for meetings. Poking in doorways I say an entertainment room with a big-screen tv, living spaces for a dozen people, a kitchen, a work area in the back with ample floorspace along with shelves of tools and materials, and others.

"I was wrong, this place is the shit!" Boojack said from right behind me, laughing as I jumped and turned shadowy. "Keep your panties on, I'm gonna go watch some tv." He chuckled as he went to the TV room.

"Herb?" I called, getting a response from the computer room, where Herb had docked the laptop and was working on it, other monitors in the place turning on as he did so. "This is awesome!" he practically squeed in excitement, connecting to surveillance cameras across the city. "We've got a tap into the PRT, and there's so many things I could do from here!"

"Sounds awesome," I told him. "But first, we need identities. How much'll those run us?"

Herb spent a few minutes navigating menus before he found what I was looking for. "Found it, it's. . . Damn really? It's twenty-five k. Each. We don't have that kind of money."

I gave him a look. "You work for a shadow organization, you don't have a line of credit?"

"Lemme check. . . found it, I do, and. . . What the fuck! I'm already two hundred grand in debt? Asshole!" he swore.

Dear god, what happened when he was gone? I thought, trying to salvage the situation. "What's the limit?"

"five hundred thousand, and the account is registered to a, John Blackman. Really?" he told me.

"Good, we'll need three."

"For you, me, and Boo?" he asked.

"Close, for you, me, and your Stand." I corrected. "I'll need them for tomorrow when I register the team. First, I'm gonna want to get the full power-set before I present myself as Vejovis."

"Who's that?"

"An obscure Roman god of healing, slaves, and fighters refusing to lose. Also, a god of Deceivers," I smirked. "It fits." Ignoring Herb's rolling of his eyes I continued, "For that I'm gonna want to get three different power sets: the first is the flying brick package. I can get that from Glory Girl, she's easy-

"Blondes," he nodded sagely.

"Dude, I meant she flies around all the time, so I'll be able to copy her powers easily."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Blondes are easy to spot, so it'll be easy, but not as easy as redheads. What'd you mean?"

I stared at him, wondering if he was bullshitting now, or had set up that verbal trap on purpose for a moment before continuing "I also want healing from Panacea, and have a plan for that, and Bug Control from Taylor, to make me more relatable and to help her out when possible. A flier can summon a swarm faster than she can."

Herb looked askance. "So, there's going to be two bug controllers?" he shuddered. "No bugs in the base!"

I glanced at the fly trying to escape the windows of our base tinted with age and grime, or maybe just mocked up to look that way. "There's already bugs in the base."

"No, you know what I mean, no bringin' in swarms."

"Your stand can turn into any insect ever, how is this different?"

He held his and wide "Do you see him doing that? No. And do you know why? Because I don't like BUGS especially where I SLEEP!"

"Fine man, calm the hell down. No bugs in the base, I'll keep them under it." I smirked, laughing at his outraged expression.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Thank you. You said you had a plan for getting Panacea's Power?"



"So, Buddy, Pal, Wonderfulness," Herb started, Boojack watching the tv passively. "We need a really big favor from you."

"What d'ya need?" he asked.

"Blood, Pain, some injuries," Herb responded. How is that supposed to convince anyone? I thought.

"Wait, what?" BJ asked, dragging his attention away from transsexual teenage midgets. "Why? Wha-What are you doing?" he asked, looking back and forth between us.

"It's for the betterment of, well, everyone," Herb reassured him, to the exact opposite effect.

"Yeah, um, No. I don't care about everyone," he said recalcitrantly.

I sighed, leave it to Herb to not be able to reason with his own clone. "Do you want to look like him for the rest of your life?" I asked, jerking a thumb at my unhelpful friend.

BJ snorted, "Fuck no, I'm not him, I'm my own me." He considered this for a second. "You got a way to change my face? Fine, what do I need to do to get rid of this ugly mug." He glanced down at his light brown arms. "And make me darker, I'm too fuckin' white."

"The plan is that you get hurt and have to go to the hospital, your injuries requiring Panacea to heal, and while she does so I copy her powers as she uses them on you. I'm in the room because I'm pretending to be your partner."

Boojack looked at Herb speculatively. "Do I get to fuck him up?" he asked. "It'd only be fair."

"Not until after I get the power to heal him, and even then, you can't do anything permanent," I responded without missing a beat.

"Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait, why?" Herb asked in a rush.

"I'll be able to heal you, it'll be cool. Besides, you wouldn't ask him to do something you wouldn't be willing to do yourself," I reasoned.

" . . . WHAT!?"

"We're doing this so I can get a healing power," I explained. Honestly, he knows this already I thought. "So, if his price is smacking you around a bit, after I have the power to heal you, then it's no big deal and problem solved, right?"

Herb looked at me pleadingly and got no help whatsoever. If Herb hadn't had clones, I would've volunteered to be the one injured for this plan so I couldn't understand the issue. Seeing no salvation with me, he turned to Boojack. "Boo, Boo, Boo baby," he implored. "Um, look. You, pain. Okay. You weren't there when we were there. There was pain, we got beat up, life sucked that first day. You're taking a couple hours of slashing. Cutting. Stabbing. Think of it that way. We had a whole day of it, you'll have a couple hours, tops."

Sometimes, when one sees an opportunity, one has to take it. "But wait," I chimed in. "Doesn't he have all your memories? That means he went through it too."

Herb glared at me. "Shut up!" he commanded.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, obviously not feeling sorry in the slightest. "I'm just trying to follow the logic here."

"I had the logic!" he nearly shouted as Boojack countered with "I remember that day. That sucked. What's your point?"

"Look," Herb practically begged. "You don't have to. This isn't a thing you need to do!"

Boojack shook his head. "Oh no," he disagreed. "My Stand, Jackhammer, I need to learn how to use him."

"You have my memories!" He pleaded. "You know how to use it!"

"Yeah, but we're different in some ways," Boojack stated with the smug demeanor of someone arguing from a position of justified power. "I need to check."

"Come on, we can compromise!" Herb beseeched his other self. "How about one punch?"

Boojack snorted in disgust. "Fine, Seven."

Herb, now hopeful, tried to bargain. "Two."

His other self-looked at him disdainfully. "Are you really doing this? Eight."

Herb looked shocked. "That's not how this works! We're bartering! We're supposed to come to a compromise!"

BJ stared back impassively. "Nine."

My friend tried a different track. "Do you really want to hurt me? Do you really want to make me cry?"

His replicant looked back in disgust. "Yeah, now I do."

"Fine, but if you're gonna fuck me up, then I'm really gonna cut you!"

I sighed, trying to intercede. "Look, if Herb dies, you do too. Also, while you do have his memories, this will help everyone differentiate between the two of you."

Boojack looked at me consideringly before finally nodding. "I want a pound of weed. . . and three punches."

I quickly agreed, "Done!"

"You're an ass!" Herb declared, looking at his alternate self.

"He's YOU!" I told my friend.

"You're pathetic," BJ chimed in. "So, we good? We both make sacrifices," he gave Herb a significant look, "so he can 'help us all'?"

Herb sighed, "So he can help us all."

"Yeah, I want to help. You're my friend. . . sss." I amended.

Boojack smirked at Herb, "See, I'm his friend too."

"Yeah," I explained, "You're technically the same person."

"Traitor," Herb shot back.

"Uggh!" I groaned. "You're the same person!"

Herb pointed at Boojack. "Does that look the same as. . . um, well."

"YES!" I told him. "You look exactly alike, that's one of the reasons we're getting this power!"

"Well," Herb rallied. "Does that sound like me?"

"If you were stoned? Yes."

"You're a dick," Herb conceited, knowing I was right, trying his luck with his clone. "Are you gonna at least recognize me as the guy giving the orders."

"As long as they're fun," he responded, adding, "And not too much work."

"Endbringers?" Herb questioned.

"Well that's just a given. I mean, saving people, I'm getting favors from that shit. Bitches, ya know."

I gave Boojack a hearty thumbs up when he commented on fighting endbringers, which got a bit less confident when he explained his rationale. "Yeah, bitches." I half-heartedly agreed. At least he'd be helping people, and that was the important thing.

"So when we doin' this?" the clone asked. "'cause if it isn't right now, there's some shit I want to watch if we're not doin' this right now."

I checked my phone, seeing that it was only a bit after eight. "Not yet, probably this afternoon. We want to get Panacea in the middle of her shift so she doesn't remember us."

Boojack turned towards the tv. "Good," he grunted, changing the channel. "Heh, fuck yeah, I love Maury. YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!" he yelled before breaking up in laughter.

Herb and I left him to it, retreating to back to the computer room. "Maury?" I asked him. "Really?"

He looked disgusted. "No, I hate that stuff."

"But isn't he, you?"

Herb glanced out the open door where Boojack could be heard occasionally yelling at the tv. "Ya gotta understand, I don't watch Maury, or not as a thing that I do on purpose."

"I don't think anyone really does," I quipped.

Herb shook his head sadly, "You'd be amazed."

There was an awkward pause. "I'm gonna go out, get some food, see if I can spot Glory Girl or Purity flyin' about." I said, starting to walk out.

Herb started to say something when we both heard Boojack yell "Oh you lying ya dirty skank. No way he's the only dick you've been raw-doggin'!"

Wincing Herb said "I'll think I'll go with you. And maybe shop for soundproofing."



Getting a bus to downtown was fairly easy, even if Herb laughed the fourth time I double checked to make sure we were on the right side of the street, which shouldn't be a thing, but fairly quickly we were in the heart of the city, relaxing in a café near a closed ferry station. This one was a Starbucks, and according to the barista was the only one in the city, go figure, but it had outdoor seating where we could sip coffee, eat those little overpriced sandwiches, shoot the shit, and I could keep an eye out for active capes. The place even had a view of the protectorate headquarters if you looked down the street.

As we talked I played with Cricket's Acoustokinesis, keeping our conversation from escaping our table while letting each of us hear each other easily over the sound of the city. While the day was young, the heroes seemed to be sleeping in, leading to our current topic of discussion.

"I know it'll be more complicated than 'Hey Undersiders, come work for us, your boss is super evil!' but we could. . ." I trailed off. "You have that, you're being a dumbass look. What is it this time?"

"Well, one, we don't have the money to keep 'em"

I winced. "Yeah, they do get several grand each, each month, and way more for jobs, and we're in debt. Stupid freakin' Numberman. Can you even hint at what you did?"

"Doesn't matter," he waved away, "and two, you're, well, you."

"And?" I asked, trying not to get offended.

"Ya gotta remember," he tried to soothe, "They're all in it for fun, or to get some things, but aren't that serious, they're just enjoying the villain life."

"Tattletale-" I started

"Is the exception" he finished. "And that girl, hoo boy, is not someone I want to meet if I'm not prepared."

I winced. "Right, no way I want to face her until I'm ready or everything'll go to hell. And yeah, it's not until the bank hei- no, Bakuda's rampage that they get pulled into the big leagues. Armsdick tells Taylor that he knows almost nothing about them when they meet in two days. And even then, they're okay until after Levi visits- no," I snapped my fingers, trying to remember. "It's the gala that gets them on center stage, and only because Tom's giving them so much money to do it, that everything goes wrong for them."

"Oh, damn, I'm gonna need to hold you back!" he realized.

"Whhhhyyy?" I asked. With our plans, by that point we'd either be invited to the Gala, or the Undersiders would've already been co-opted by us.

"When Taylor fights Lung, you're gonna want to save her!"

I scoffed. "She's got that." Thinking a bit more I added, "And if she doesn't I'll build something I can layer with my zones on to shoot lung with gravel at several times the speed of sound."

"No, I meant Armsmaster's pitch, we don't need to help her."

I scoffed harder. "This is Armsdick, I've got no worries, I'll talk to her later, and use his assholery to cement myself as the actual hero I am. And as for Lung, we humiliated him and ran, he might go harder than he did in canon, hence the preparation."

Nodding, "Yeah. In that case we need to figure out our intros."

"Intros? To Taylor?" I clarified. "I was planning on doing it the next day, or that afternoon if it's past midnight."

Herb disagreed. "Nah, we gotta do it right then. She just saw two sides of the coin, we need to show her it isn't one."

My brain stalled for a second as I tried to decode his statement. "Oh, yeah, show her that her mode of thinking is that of a false binary, that's it's not Heroes vs Villains. I'll have to do the same thing with Panacea later, since her not-mom Brandish has been such a bitch about it. That soon? Yeah, better to disrupt the pattern as it's forming then have to break it after its been formed. Do you have a plan?"

He shrugged, an action that did not fill me with confidence. "Most of one."

I waited, but there was no more forthcoming. "Would you like to share with the class?"

"Not really."

I groaned. He was going to be a dick about this. That meant I'd make some plans and then wing it. I was good- okay I was ok at winging it. It was more just rapid creation of new plans then whatever the hell Herb did, but I got by. "So GG is just gonna fly around, like she does. We've got a plan for healing, and getting Bug Control is going to be super easy, she's not as subtle as she thinks and I know where she lives."

Herb gave me a deadpan look. "That sounded really creepy dude."

"I know," I responded, aware of my unfortunate phrasing.

"and the fact that everyone you're goin for are teenage girls makes it worse," he added.

"I know, but hey, if Purity flies by I need her power for my second identity."

"Second?" he asked. "You haven't even gotten a first one."

"I mean cape identity. Get this, I combine Skidmark's power, Shadow Stalker's, and Purity's. I'll wear a full body suit, and tell everyone that no, I'm not the lovechild of Purity and Skidmark, and Shadow Stalker isn't my half-sister so stop asking."

Herb guffawed in laughter. "Oh that's fucked up. I love it!"

I smiled back. "Thing is, I need a name. Mine tend to be fancy, allusions, tell too much, or sound kinda corporate. You're better at street sounding names, and this persona is gonna be a lot more villain than hero, for when I need to do things that are kinda questionable." I looked at his amused expression. "I know, I'm a horrible racist. What've you got?"

Herb thought for all of three seconds before declaring, "Boardwalk."

I blinked dumbly. "You're gonna have to explain that one."

"Well, Boardwalks are active when it's dark, and have lights, and people move on them," he elucidated.

It clicked far too well. "And this is why I asked, it's too perfect. Boardwalk it is." I said, giving him a half bow from my seat.

I grabbed us another pair of coffees and we relaxed and just watched the world go by.



"I wonder how they get to it? Is it flying cars?" Herb interrupted my people watching.

"Huh, what?" was my witty retort.

"The Protectorate," he indicated, waving an image at a PRT van with its purple and black coloring floating over the waves towards the government-sponsored cape's base.

"Forcefield," I told him, pointing out the slight discoloration against the tame waves. "They extend it to let people on or off if they're not flying."

"That's cool."

"Eh," I responded making a kinda gesture. "Defense-wise, yeah, but it puts them at a distance and dehumanizes them, making people have to go to the downtown parahuman response team office instead of the main one if you want to get anything done quickly. It's a kind of pseudo-nobility thing where to even get into the real office you have to get permission from the lower office. It's the kinda thing a good PR department would nix in an instant, but they probably got overruled."

We tracked the van until it was a dot against the water.

"Honestly, can we make that our base?" Herb asked.

"Dude, we just got a cool base," I chastised. "And didn't you listen to what I just said? Right," I corrected myself. "What would hamstring a hero might be an asset to a villain. Still wouldn't work. Besides Leviathan wrecks it, takes it and slams it into the rest of the city. We're inland so we should be fine, but it gets wrecked."

"Yeah, I know," He responded defensively. "but then we take it for our own!"

"Did you miss the part of the book where they cannibalize it and integrate it into PRT headquarters?"

"Yeah, but what I'm sayin' is, we get to it first and use it for our own stuff!"

I looked at him skeptically. "Okaaay, how do you propose that without breaking the Enbringer Truce?

"Eeeeeeh, We still have to work under that bullshit?" He groaned, taking an exaggerated sip of his coffee.

I hated it when he whined like a petulant child. "Until we have a way to reliably kill the fuckers that ruin everything," I reasoned. "And that's some end-game shit, then yeah, we have to at least pretend to play nice. Your bosses can do the 'end justifies the means' BS because they're shadowy as shit. Stealing the rig? Not shadowy, like, the opposite of shadowy. That fucker glows." I sighed. "We don't pull that until we're ready to face the world. Technically the good guys aren't supposed to do that kind of thing either but, yeah, fuck Armsdick."

Herb crossed his arms, honest to god pouting. "I never get what I want."

I couldn't help myself. "Yeah, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need!" At his look of extreme disappointment, I felt bad. "Sorry."

He shook his head, bad mood gone as fast as it appeared. I'd have worried it was his shard messing with his head, but he was always like this. "Channel it," he told me before looking thoughtful, "Do they even exist here?"

I shrugged. "No clue, they might get it from Earth Aleph."

"It's probably better there," he observed.

"You mean without the kaiju? Yeah, probably." A thought struck me. "Did you ever notice the complete lack of any named media in the book. Like, at all?"

"I think it's a publishing thing," he gestured towards the Starbucks. "'cause it exists, but product placement is a thing you have to be careful if you want to get your book sold."

After a bit more I saw a flicker of white and gold against the overcast grey of the sky and my Sight activated, turning the distant shape into a brilliant comet of white and gold, leaving a trail across the eye. I saw two powers, the first a Force Field, it was weakened by one good hit, but not actually dispersed, and was the source of her flight and strength instead of any muscular enhancement. The other was an Emotional Control Aura, togglable and adjustable, it acted to bring out emotions that would help the wielder, though the power couldn't precisely choose which one. My own power struck, like snake a mile long, and snatched off a bit of flame, pulling off a section and slamming it into my chest in an instant. This one felt like a stiff breeze blew through me, a new fire appearing in the metaphorical inferno that blazed in the back of my mind, a mental construct that I only now realized existed.

"That was fuckin' cool!" commented Herb, staring at me, and the area around me.

"What?" I panicked, looking around to see if I was manifesting anything new.

He gestured towards the flying heroine. "The thing with Glory Girl, I can't copy that audio-thing you're doin' but I've got your Power Sight and that was cool. What's the range on that thing?" he asked.

"Um, visual?" I guessed. "I lost my handle on Ziz's power when I lost sight of her, same for Lung. Not sure if it works with cameras."

"Pfft," he waved, "That's easy to check." He messed around with his new phone before bringing up an image of Alexandria fighting the Simurgh. "Try this!"

I watched the video as not-superman tried her best to take down the multi-winged angel to no avail for a minute before handing it back. "Sorry man, it's just a phone to my power. Would've been cool though."

He shrugged. "We tried." Turning back to me he commented. "It's always weird to see your fire when you do that."

I looked at myself, but my power didn't work on myself, so I couldn't see my own flame. "What is it?"

"It like, wraps around it and engulfs it, and you'd think it would overwhelm it a bit, and it looks like it does," he explained, using expansive arm movements. "But it doesn't it just kinda disappears into you, but when you use the power it flickers back and gets bigger. Like the sound thing is white and green right?" I nodded. "Yeah, it's been there the entire time, try droppin' it." I did, both of wincing as the world around us got a lot louder. He said something, but I couldn't hear him over the honking of mid-day traffic right in front of us.

Bringing back the bubble I asked him "What did you say, I couldn't hear you."

He nodded. "Didn't know you were doin' that much. I said when you dropped the sound, the fire disappeared, most goin' out but some goin' back into you."

"Makes sense," I agreed, standing up and gathering up our trash. "First tier of my power gives you as many uses as you see the power used. Second trigger is infinite use, so it saves it for later. I've got what I wanted, and if GG's patrolling her sister's probably on-shift. Let's get those 'buffalo wangs' Boojack wanted and head back."

"Why ya gotta say it like that?" Herb complained. "That sounds so ghetto."

"I'm just quoting him verbatim, he's your replicant," I shot back, heading inside.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.3

We were walking back through the trainyard, Bag of 'wangs' in hand and Herb was still complaining, even if he had shifted topics. "Why couldn't we've seen Purity?" he opined.

I stopped, looking around. "It's overcast dude, she gets her power from bright light. Means she has to marshal her power on days like this. You're not gonna have the chance to see her every day."

He gave a forlorn sigh. "You know what would help save my world? Seeing her."

I just looked back, unamused. "What is it with you and fucking white supremacists man?"

"You know that, deep down, all those chicks love me."

I started walking again, the sooner we got home, the sooner we could moving forward with the plan. "She and Cricket were pretty clear. They hate you. Well, Purity hasn't met you, but still considers you to be of an inferior race."

"Again," he reasoned. "Her thinking I'm inferior will make it all the better when I get with her."

"Um, no," I corrected. "Her thinking you're inferior will mean you're not going to get there. Full stop."

He looked at me with the disappointment that I felt for this whole conversation. "Ya know, this defeatist attitude is not good for you. How are you gonna be a hero if you keep sayin' things are impossible."

I sighed deeply, this back and forth we were having made no sense whatsoever, and I was ninety percent sure he was enjoying the hell out of it. "Well, for starters, I'm not going to date a white supremacist, though if we're keeping things even, I wouldn't date a black supremacist either."

He shook his head, taking a tone that suggested I was the one being thick in this situation. "No, what I'm sayin' is it seems like a challenge."

"'cause it is"

"Exactly," he stated with surety.

I amended, telling him "An impossible one."

"It's not an impossible one," he reasoned. "Improbable, not impossible."

"Ok, yes," I gave, trying to end this conversation. "It's improbably, highly improbable, and you're efforts are almost surely wasted-"

"-Until they're not!" He finished.

"What about her kids?" I asked, annoyed that I was even entertaining the concept.

He grinned broadly. "Then I'll be the dad they really need!"

I tried to place this on the timeline. "Before or after Kaiser gets offed, because there's no way he'd be fine with that."

"Oh, After, Obviously. No way he'd want a half-black man raising his kids, especially since I'd be better at it then he is." Ignoring my comment of "like that's a high bar," he continued, "Hell I might have to off him just because."

I winced at my friend's plans of murder over poontang, but nevertheless offered, "If you need help, I'll back you. Just, make sure she likes you first. And wait until the city has gone downhill, right now it'd draw way too much heat."

"Maybe we could stop that from happening?" he theorized. Really? I thought. This is makes him want to save the city? "But I don't have a lot to offer her right now," he mused. "And I need to do it before she goes back to him."

I couldn't help pointing out some missing details. "And do you know when that happens?" At his look of realization, I trawled my memory, finally remembering the pertinent details. "She shows up with metalhead at the villain meeting to talk about Bakuda's rampage, so you've got like, two weeks, tops. I don't remember the exact day."

"Shit, I gotta work fast." He told himself as we reached the base.

I walked inside, calling to Boojack that we were back and we had his 'wangs'.

"Mauri's such a bitch here!" was his response. "He's got a stupid ass 'emotion detector' that shows how bad they feel, and keeps the fuckin' golddiggin' skanks from comin' on the fuckin' show! And they keep on talkin' about superheroes & shit!"

"My heart bleeds," I deadpanned. "You have Herb's memories right? Why does he want to have sex with Kaiser's ex-wife?"

"You want to bang Purity? You want to bang Purity. Why? Just, Why?" he asked disgustedly. "That'd be like puttin' you're dick in a blender."

"Made of light. And racism." I added.

"No," Herb explained, with the visage of someone describing nirvana. "The idea, that every time you sleep with her, knowing she might kill you the next day, just, damn."

"You need help." I told him, Boojack nodding in agreement. "Either way Boojack, eat your wings, then we can get this show on the road."

He looked down at the open container of wings then back at me. Not breaking eye contact. He brought one up and very, very slowly took a bite, slowly chewing it in exaggerated slowness. I gave him an unamused look. He took another one, and was starting to take a third when Herb walked over and stabbed him in the chest.

I shot to my feet in shock. "What the hell you ass!? We needed to get him there and then hurt him!"

"He's the ass!" he explained, pointing at BJ laying on the floor, hand holding the wound. "Did you see how slow he was eating?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I helped the bleeding Boojack to his feet. "Manifest your Stand" I told him, a ram-horned figure appearing behind him, glaring at Herb, flat teeth grinding behind a shaggy beard. "Okay," I told BJ, handing him a knife. "Now stab Herb in the arm."

"What?" my forethought-less friend asked as his clone stabbed him, BJ's own wound healing as he did so. "Ow, what the hell!"

"No." I told Boojack as he moved to stab Herb again, before turning to the bleeding original and telling him "Now punch me." Taking the what I'm sure he thought as righteous blow on my arm, the bruising blow stopping the bleeding from his own stab wound, but not visibly healing it. "Stop!" I commanded as he reared back to hit me again. "Now BJ is uninjured so Panacea won't see any oddly healed wounds and you're not gonna bleed all over the place as you follow us. That was stupid, don't stab people outside of the plan. Shut up and let's go."

"But my wings!" Boojack bellowed, drowning out Herb's response.

"You were being an ass, you can eat them when we get back." I informed him, pushing him out the door.

"It was in the plan!" Herb insisted as he followed. "Just a bit early!"

"We need to get picked up in the industrial sector, on the other side of the city from the fucking trainyard, and not leaving a blood trail to your secret fucking base. Now shut up and grab the car."

Herb facepalmed. "I did not think of that. Wait, what car?"

"You're base has a car," I told him, tossing him the keys. "The garage is on the other side of the workshop.

Boojack glared over at his shoulder at Herb. "I'm gonna enjoy punching you."

"Both of you shut up!" I commanded. "Dear god, you're worse than fucking teenagers!"



Herb brought the car around, a rust red Prius. After much complaining, and a bit of shoving as all three of us, none of us small men, wedged ourselves in, we were off, and a half an hour later were pulling into an area in the new industrial part of town without any peopl. Piling out I looked around, and didn't see anyone as we ducked into an alley.

"Okay," I told the two of them, Boojack standing a few feet away from Herb, "Let's do this."

"Do I have to?" Boojack asked.

"Yes!" Herb told him, lunging at him and stabbing him. Boojack shuddered as he took it, and more as Herb carefully stabbed him in places that would bleed, but wouldn't be life threatening, adding heavy punches and breaking a few ribs, careful not to puncture anything. It was, quite frankly, hard to watch even if I knew that Boojack was just a power-created clone of my best friend. By the end Boojack was a beaten, bleeding mess on the ground, staring hatefully up at his progenitor who was covered with his blood and bleeding heavily.

I used one of the burner phones I'd taken from the base to call 911, sounding terrified as I talked about how a bunch of skinheads held me down while they beat my boyfriend before they left, and please send someone I think he's going to die! I motioned for Herb to leave, who nodded and got in the car, peeling out. Well, as much as one can in a Prius.

The operator told me to stay on the line and I gave a panicked but inarticulate reply as I muted the phone. "You okay?" I called to Boojack walking over. At his look I amended. "Okay, stupid question. Ambulance should be here in a few minutes, you good for that?

"Can they come faster?" he winced. "Because, he stabbed me a few more times while you were talking, and I think one of them was a kidney shot."

"Got damnit Herb," I growled before unmuting my phone. "Oh god, there's so much blood!" I called out with a slight light to my voice. "Is there anything I can do?" I pleaded.

"Apply pressure to the wound," the man on the other side.

"Which one?" I cried, "There's so many!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Whichever one is bleeding the most. Help should be there soon."

I gave another effeminate cry of terror as I calmly kneeled down and applied pressure to his side, holding the phone with my shoulder and cheek. After a minute or two I heard the distant sirens, and an ambulance pulled up, the paramedics jumping out and running towards us. One of them looked at the bloody scene and swore heavily, running back to get the stretcher. The other bent down, putting his hands on another injury, asking me if I was injured.

"Nothing more than maybe bruises." I told him earnestly. "They held me down while they, while they, oh god!" I fake broke down.

The other EMT came back, and the two loaded him up, taking the stretcher back to the Ambulance. "Can I come with him?" I asked looking around. "My hunny-bear doesn't look that good!"

The two glanced at each other before one told me to get in. Climbing in I took his hand, telling him. "It's okay honey, the EMT's are gonna make everything all right."

One had gone to say something to the driver while the other was l reaching back to get something, so neither saw Boojack open his eyes to look supremely uncomfortable. "Ya know what dear?" I told him, patting his hand before putting it down. "Rest, conserve your strength. I'll be here for you." Boojack nodded before closing his eyes as the paramedic turned around with a tube of something.

"I'm gonna need you to sit there," he told me. "I know you want to help, but we need to work fast ok?"

I nodded as the other EMT came running around, jumping inside and closing the door as the ambulance jerked into motion. As they worked frantically I felt a little bad, since they were working this hard to try to save someone who ultimately didn't need their help. I comforted myself as I told myself that their efforts would lead me to gaining healing powers, which would in turn let me heal a lot more people.

They worked hard, Boojack's enhanced body keeping him alive as we got there. He was rushed into the room, where he was hooked up to IV's, the staff only noting my preference to tell me where to sit and to ask his blood type and allergies. After a few minutes Panacea walked in quickly, looking first at the unconscious Boojack then at me, asking "Can I heal him?" I nodded Seeing her, her power a bone white and blood red flame of not healing, but twinned Biological Understanding & Biokinesis. Her flame wasn't the blazing inferno of her sister, but a constrained campfire that barely extended past her form, though the intensity of it made my eyes water. The flesh sculptor put her hand on his arm looking shocked at the extent of his damages as she started to heal them. My power snaked out, meeting hers as it closed his wounds, taking some it for my own, her power a warm glow in my chest. Concentrating on it, trying to See the bit of her power inside me started to give me a headache, but I realized in a crushing bolt of despair that, like her sister, I only got half of the package. I could heal, and I could sculpt flesh, but I had no intrinsic understanding, nor could I diagnose problems I didn't know about. I might be able to knock people out with a touch, but unless I figured out exactly what I was doing I was just as likely to shut off their heart. Damn I thought as she finished up, trying to tearfully thank her as the doctor that came in with her hurried her off somewhere else, there goes almost a full third of my plans.

After she left Boojack looked over at me. "You get what you need?" he asked.

"I got enough," I responded. "Let's get home."

We checked out, paying six grand, the fact that I did so in cash raised an eyebrow but provoked no other comment. We took the bus back to base, Boojack not sayin' much, other than to ask once. "All that gay stuff. . ." he started, trailing off.

"Was to sell the character and make sure I was there when she healed you. I'm into chicks, and even if you were one, you're old enough to be my father, which is a bit much, even for me." I told him, looking out the window as the bus drove on. "Herb and I joke about it, but it's one of those funny 'cause it's never gonna happen things. It's why I stopped when I saw you getting uncomfortable."

"'kay. Thanks," He said. "So, when am I gonna get the weed?"

"I'll steal some from the Merchants tonight. I need some practice with my flying brick setup."

He nodded. "Good. Thanks."

"No prob," I told him. "If Herb couldn't replicate I was planning on having him injure me instead, having you around lessened the risk, as he could remake you if we screwed up."

There was silence for a minute before he asked. "Fuck, really?"

I glanced over to see him staring at me. "Yeah, I told Herb I wouldn't ask someone to do something I wouldn't do myself. I don't lie to my friends, you included."

"I'm not him," he huffed, looking away.

I snorted. "Try that to someone who can't see your soul."

His head snapped around so fast it almost looked painful. "What!?" he hissed.

I tapped my temple. "I can See powers and Know them, and I know people. Social niceties I have problems with. Didn't at first, but hey, both of our childhoods sucked, just in different ways. But who people are deep down? I figure that shit out fast, and hoo boy has that lost me a lot of friends. You know that. Either way, I see your power feeding into his and vice versa, and I've seen you act. You're still my friend, just a different aspect of him. You want to call yourself something different? That makes total sense with what I know of Herb. You're him, and you're not," I laughed. "Which is just the kind of koan level of shit he says all the time, but it's how you guys process things." I sighed, looking back out the window. "Herb is Herb, always has been, so an Herb that isn't Herb can't be Herb so he musn't be Herb, he must be something else, even if he isn't. No matter how you look at it though, Herb is my friend, no matter his name, or his perspective."

We rode in silence, him not saying anything else, the walk from the bus-stop to our base quiet. As I was about to put in the code for the door he put a hand up to stop me. "What you said. . . Thanks. You're my friend too."

"No prob Boojack," I told him, keying the code in. "Let's see what Herb made for dinner, then I'll see about getting your own face."



Herb hadn't made dinner, as he had gotten wrapped up in checking out the Parahuman Online Forums, trolling for information. He started putting something together as Boojack flopped down on one of the dining room chairs and I recounted the events of the day while grabbing one of the bases portable consoles and looking up information on melanin production and plastic surgery.

"So you've got Pamacea's power!" he crowed as I got to Boojack getting healed. "That's so ridiculous!"

"Nah dude, I've got half of it. I can do the Fleshsculpting, but I'm doing so blind. For instance, Boojack, give me your arm," I instructed. "He reluctantly handed it over and I grabbed a kitchen knife, slashing lightly at him with it. Holding onto his wrist as he tried to jerk it back. Reaching into my power I pulled on the Fleshsculpting and willed it to heal. The flesh knit itself back up, leaving his arm bloody and unmarked.

"What the hell!" he yelled, taking his arm back and rubbing the healed section.

"I need practice," I told him, "And a demonstration. I'd use it on myself, but that's the one thing the power can't do. Besides, you're borrowing my disease immunity so you don't need to even worry about that."

He didn't say anything for a moment then offered his arm again, Herb stopping as he was cutting up some carrots to look between us and shoot me a questioning glance. I gave a minute shake of the head and Herb shrugged before going back to meal prep. He has a really low opinion of himself sometimes I thought. "So," I said, turning my attention to Boojack's arm, concentrating on what I had read about melanin formation and distribution, trying to reach into the skin on his arm to darken him like he asked. "I'm doing this blind, but I'm 90% sure can heal by forcing something to go back to the way it was," I told him. I tried feeling something for feedback purposes, but got nothing. Going over what I read I tried to imagine an increase in melanocytes, the various melanosomes to individual keratinocytes, and all of the other things that determined skin pigmentation.

A whispered "Holy Shit" caught my attention and I stopped, looking at the skin of the arm I was working on as it had turned to pure obsidian. Herb had stopped and Boojack was looking down at his own arm which he pulled free with a mixed expression of fear and awe. "I think ya overdid it," Herb commented, staring at his replicants pure black arm, with even the palms and the skin under the nails the color of pitch.

"Oh, shit!" I commented, looking at it. "I might have accidentally given you Melanism." Both of them looked at me in confusion. "It's like the opposite of albinism, I can probably tone it down if you want."

BJ shook his head. "Fuck no, this shit's fuckin' awesome. Can you do the rest?"

I shrugged, grabbing his arm and trying again, this time conceptualizing all of his skin as a single continuum, applying what I'd done to his arm to the rest of him, trying to apply a general healing effect to it as worked, hopefully catching any mistakes I'd made. Letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I opened my eyes to see Herb & BJ, one with light brown skin, the other obsidian, but otherwise still identical.

With his skin done, I focused on his face. "Okay," I told him. "This is at the same time way more complicated, and way less. I can micromanage the shit out of this, but that's something I want to experiment with on someone who isn't my friend. And I wouldn't feel bad about messing up. Like a rapist pedophile or something. The way easier way would be to just describe what you want, and I try to make it work. Worst case scenario," I pointed to Herb. "I just use him as a template and reset you." I think I can do that, but there's no need to mention that I might not have that capacity.

Boojack looked at his new skin and nodded. "Yeah, I'll just tell ya what I want."

After another hour of tweaking, taking a break for dinner as Boojack got used to chewing with a different jaw, I'd finished. Boojack had had me tweaking his facial structure, hair line, and a handful of other things as I reached a happy medium between a young Nelson Mandela and some rapper named Shabba Ranks.

When I'd finished he'd looked at himself in a mirror I'd grabbed from the bathroom, checking out his new face. "You are one ugly asshole," commented Herb looking at his replicant.

BJ shot a considering look back at his creator. "Really?" he asked. Herb nodded emphatically, and Boojack smiled broadly, turning to look at me. "It's perfect!"

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.4

I stretched, releasing the tension that had built up using a new power when I couldn't afford to screw it up. Even if I really had screwed the pooch, BJ would be back in a week, but we'd still be down an effective fighter if he was on Herb's level. "Okay, that's done I need to go out for a bit."

"What for?" Herb asked.

"Well, for starters, I've gotten two out of the three powers I need for Vejovis, and if I can get the third I can sign up first thing in the morning. That means taking a trip over to Taylor's place, as knowing her, she's doing some last-minute suit tweaking which'll hopefully let me snag her power."

Herb looked concerned. "Okay, but we need to talk about your habit of stalking teenage girls."

"What?" I responded, thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you spent the morning trying to see Victoria, then you hurt someone just to see Amy, and now you're trying to look in Taylor's windows. You've got a problem, and the first step is admitting it."

I sighed. "One, I was only doing that to get their powers. Two, we were also looking for Purity, who's older than I am, and three, I don't have a problem!"

He nodded sagely, "So you can't even take that first step. That's sad."

I threw my hands up in frustration, "Whatever man, I'm heading out." I paused. "Oh, and Boojack, I'm gonna go pick up your weed. Just make sure not to do anything life threatening to Herb in case it's a couple of hours 'fore I get back."

BJ chuckled as Herb shot me an accusatory look. "Asshole!" he declared.

"I learned it from watching you," I responded as I walked out the door.



Using a combination of Shadow Stalker's Shadowform and Glory Girls flight I became a dark spot against the black of the night, shooting across the sky like a dark comet. Circling around Merchant territory, it was only a matter of time before I found some dealers sitting on a street corner. After watching them for a few minutes peddling some drugs to some kids who were probably in their mid-teens, I waited until one went to relieve themselves down an alley. Sinking behind him, shifting my outfit to a dark cloak, leather armor, and a black mask while waiting for him to finish, I phased in, applying a chokehold that had him out in seconds as he struggled uselessly, scrabbling for a knife which pinged off my forcefield and armored costume uselessly, dropping to the ground as he lost consciousness.

Lifting him to a nearby rooftop I patted him down, relieving him of his wallet, a bag of pills, some white powder, and several small bags of weed. Looking at it, trying to get a feel for it, it was lighter than I thought it would be for its volume. I sighed as I pocketed it and his cash, dropping the powder and pills, realizing that if I was gonna do this, it would be way easier to follow them back to their base, but I was working on a time-limit. Looking over the passed-out Merchant I shrugged and reached down, pulling the costume off of my hand to get skin contact, calling on my Fleshsculpting to try to heal him up a bit, not doing anything specific but trying for a general healing. It took a minute, but the track-marks in his hands healing up and the bags under his eyes tightened. A couple lesions healed up, and the gauntness in his cheeks filled in a bit. He still looked like shit, but not quite so bad, and I considered my good deed of the day done as I took off in Shadowform once more.

Passing over the city, looking down on it with my power as I gazed upon the rows upon rows of houses, looking for Taylor's. Flying lower, but still above the homes, I drifted around, looking in through open windows for a light to focus on. After several false starts, and surprised by the sheer number of people who don't shut their curtains when engaged in all sorts of activities, from the lewd to the illegal, I finally hit jackpot. Floating along and seeing another basement light I hesitantly drifted closer, ready for another suburban sex dungeon when instead I saw a room covered in cobwebs, the window cracked open and a slow but steady trickle of bugs making their way inside. Sitting on a stool was a lanky girl, her back to the window, working at a table while a mass of spiders and other bugs covered her table. The conglomeration of insects worked on something that was a shifting pattern of greys and blacks, a bit of yellow at one end. I tried to use my Power Sight, but it wouldn't activate. It took me a few moments to realize that while I could see things in Shadowform, I couldn't see powers. Shifting out of it my eyes warmed as I saw the grey and hornet yellow flames pouring off of her form, tendrils of fire spreading out in an intricate web work connecting every single bug, directing them and controlling them in concert. My own power reached out, skimming some off of the bugs in front of me, and bringing it back.

I had to cut off a cry of pain as it connected to me and spread, a blood red and royal purple web of lines bursting out of me, crisscrossing with the grey and yellow one in front of me. The insects around me flickering into my consciousness as a sea of embers all around me, and Taylor a muted inferno before me. I Knew that I could sense her, or the shadow of her with this power, but I could not puppet her, just as she couldn't puppet me in return, though there might be some other effects possible. She gave a cry of surprise and fell off her stool, the bugs all around me starting to swarm and converge on me as she struggled to get up and see me.

Panicking, I took to the air, shifting to shadows once more, the connection with the bugs muted, but still present as I felt Taylor's shock and fear through them as several took off to follow me. Concentrating, I let go of her power, trying to force it to the back as Herb described seeing it. The power seemed to resist my attempts, but submitted, my connection to the insects below me and Taylor fading like smoke on the wind as I changed direction and headed back for Merchant territory.

Several dozen blocks later I took Taylor's power back out, feeling the insects below me in a living map, one that started giving me sense data. Okay, got what I wanted, just not in the way I meant to I thought to myself as I drifted, the information I got muted somewhat by my Shadowform. No way I can I can pretend I haven't met her next time. From that brief contact I knew that if I ever met Taylor again, my power would recognize her, and vice versa, just like it let me recognize different types of insects and I did not expect her to have that many black widows. If her dad ever walked into the basement, he was a dead man, and she needed to move them asap.

I drifted as I felt out the insects, getting a slight headache as I did so, pushing myself to concentrate on as many as I could and holding it there, looking through their eyes and feeling what they felt, though the senses didn't really match up. I started at five and slowly pushed myself more and more until I could handle five times that, before tacking a deep breath and checking my phone, letting the connection drop back to its passive level. I'd been out here for a bit over two hours, and I should probably be getting back to the base soon incase BJ did actually hurt Herb.

Drifting back in that general direction, I saw another pack of Merchants. Forcing a bug to land on one of them and hide in the folds of his too-large clothing was fairly easy, and I tracked them in the air as they walked. I tried to listen in as they talked about someone, and it took a few times to put it together but something about a bad boy slayer 8 posting a video? I gave up on it, as I wasn't going to risk flying into something listening to them talk about videogames, and just focused on trying to put together visual data while still paying attention to what I was seeing as I followed them.

It took another twenty minutes, and I only had to swerve to avoid a taller building twice, but I finally followed them back to a house at the edge of the railyards. They walked up, greeted someone at the door, and proceeded inside, the door being shut behind them. Four of them plopped down on a couch while the fourth went upstairs, giving the guy inside some money before getting passed some more drugs and heading down to sit with his friends. Drifting down I saw the window was blocked by heavy curtains, but the flies inside had a clear view. It took a few minutes to figure out what I was looking at, a good deal of which was spent figuring out they were looking upside down, as they had landed on the ceiling.

Inside were three guys, one sitting behind a desk watching internet videos, another dividing drugs into small bags from a massive pile of weed while a third relaxed by the door, gun in one hand, phone in the other as he texted someone, waving away my fly when I tried to see what. The desk-guy finished his video finished, grabbed the money, and moved to a dark shape in corner, fiddling with it until it opened. A safe I realized, getting ready to enter. Thinking for a moment I applied Speed Zones to my knuckles, adding power to my punches, before I phased in and hit the window fist first. I paused for a second as the push from my hands was countered by the structure of the window, but I flew harder and the glass broke, cutting through the shades and slicing into the gunman as he looked up from his phone. I followed in and punched him in the face, his head snapping back and hitting the wall behind him, knocking him out. Landing I spun and kicked the guy by the safe in the head before he could close it, hearing the third guy getting up, the fly on him tracking his movement as he closed. Turning I caught his wrist with a knife-hand, forcing him to drop his blade as my other hand came up, punching him in the gut and sending him flying upwards, impacting the ceiling before dropping to the floor, moaning on the ground. Checking the gunman, I saw that he was bleeding pretty heavily, so I revealed a fingertip and pressed it to his skin, stopping the bleeding, but nothing more than that, pulling my costume back as I heard shouts from below. I punched the three incandescents lighting the room, plunging it into darkness except for the faint moonlight filtering in through the slashed curtain, and the dark blue flickering glow on my knuckles. Holding my hands behind me, as I crouched down in a corner opposite the downed guard, enhanced eyes unblocked by the darkness. Glory Girl's forcefield could tank anything once before needing to recharge, and my own costume was bulletproof, so unless one of the guys downstairs was an unknown cape, I was going to be fine.

There was a hesitant knock on the door, and a voice calling for "Big Pat?" Looking around, I thought maybe they meant the guy who'd had the gun? They were all kinda normal sized. After a moment another voice called "Big P? We heard somethin' you okay?" After more silence a third said "We comin' in, okay?" A full minute passed before the door opened and a raggy looking white kid, maybe college aged stepped in, hand blindly reaching for the light switch, flicking it on and off to no effect. "What the fuck?" one of them asked as a few more edged their way in, all of them carrying some sort of weapon, the two I hadn't tagged quickly getting a gnat to track them with. All of them crowding around the doorway, they blocked out the light from the hall, but as they entered they saw the dropped form of the gunman. "Eddie!" one of them called, rushing over. Guess that wasn't Pat I thought, tightening up.

As they turned to look at 'Eddie' I pushed my knuckles to the wall, launching me forward, using my flight to keep my going as I careened into one of the three holding pistols. I broke the momentum of my flight on his back, taking him down as I lashed out with both fists, negating my recoil with flight as the other two were sent flying in different directions. One of the gang swung out with an oversized knife, which I dodged, spinning around it to punch him in the face, sending him flying off into a wall. A few moments of frenzied fighting later and the last one was down. I'd taken two shots during the fighting, the shield taking the first one to the side, the other glancing off my armored arm, and everyone was down, either unconscious or moaning on the floor, curled up around their injuries.

Dusting my hands off theatrically, I walked over to the safe, pausing as I saw the bricks of cash stacked inside. Looking around, I grabbed two duffel bags, stepping over moaning Merchants. One tried to stab me in the leg as I walk around, but a quick shuffle step dodged it, landing on his hand and probably breaking at least one finger. "That wasn't nice," I chided as I stepped past the thug as he wrenched his hand back, holding it to his chest. Grabbing the stacks of cash and stuffing it into the bag, I'd only filled half of one, so I stepped over to the trash bags of weed, dumping out enough that I could fit them into the duffel bags, grabbing a third just for good measure. Looking around at everyone passed out I shrugged before walking over to one of the thugs and taking his phone, starting to dial 911 before pausing. If I do this they'll get caught, but I haven't registered yet, and if an unknown cape takes down a drughouse, only for a new one to register in the morning, it's gonna look suspicious. Clearing the number, I dropped the phone back on the thug. As I was walking to jump out the window one of the thugs, moaning in pain, asked "Who are you?"

I stopped thinking. Should I go with Vejovis? No, they might have seen the Shadowform. Might as well start dropping hints of the second identity. "Boardwalk," I told him, relaxing my throat to deepen my voice, before turning to shadow and jumping out the window, the reduced gravity of that form letting me land lightly below as I took off down the street.



After a few blocks I took to the air, flying back to base and landing lightly, my control much improved from when I left. I walked inside, dropping the bags and my mask on the kitchen counter as I poked around, trying to find Herb & BJ. I heard laughter from the workshop, Herb's full belly laugh and BJ's low chuckles. Ambling over I saw the two of them leaning on each other, both bruised and bloody, their stands both a dozen feet away and engaged in an arm wrestling contest. I ambled over, both of them turning to look at me, both grinning. "What happened?" I asked, healing up Herb who was worse, though not by much, before turning and doing the same to BJ, unblackening eyes, removing bruising, and giving them the general repair treatment.

Herb grinned. "We were bonding!" he declared.

Boojack gave a snort of laughter. "He was whining, so we fought. He's not as weak as he looks." I quirked an eyebrow at the Stands, who both dispersed. "The whiny bitch here said if we had them out, we could keep fighting 'cause of that heal if you hurt someone thing they have. Probably thought he could heal up by takin' me down." Boojack grinned. "Didn't, but he aint as bad off as he was."

I looked around them, and the broken and knocked over shelves that had held all sorts of material for building pretty much anything, the ground littered with bolts, screws, pieces of bent metal and broken wood. "Ugh," I moaned into my palm. "Okay, priority, setting up a sparring area so you two don't break something." My aggravation led me to, rather than tell them, show them my newly acquired power.

Herb screamed like a small girl as Boojack let out a low "Woooooaaahh" as hundreds of bugs streamed in from every direction to stop around me, coming up through the grates on the floor, crawling through the cracked windows, and scurrying in from every corner, carpeting the floor around me in an ever-growing mat of insects. Herb's squeals of terror rose in pitch as they slowly arrayed themselves closer to him. Boojack looked at his progenitor in morbid curiosity. "What the hell is that sound?" he asked.

"I don't know," I quipped, amused at seeing the dynamic turned on Herb. "Though there are some dogs that might be able to identify it."

"You didn't have to take that power! You didn't have to take that power. You. Didn't. Have. To. Take. That. Power." Herb chanted as he retreated until his back hit the wall of the storage area.

I shrugged, trying to repress my smirk. "I needed something I could work on with Taylor, and besides: Bug control is cool. Creepy, but less so when I tell them what they do."

"Can you get rid of the bugs?" he pleaded, but I was too busy thinking about the possibilities.

"Oooh, and the power synergy. My range might be bigger but I don't have nearly the fine point control that she does, yet, maybe never will, but I can fly, so I can go around, grabbing swarms, then bring them back to her to use, then she takes over and BAM, she destroys the bad guys because we're both gonna be heroes!"

Boojack amusedly looked at Herb panicking, having noticed that the bugs made a small circle around him as their ranks crept closer to my friend.

"That's cool," Herb commented, going up on tiptoes. "Could ya' get rid of them now?" he asked, as thousands upon thousands of eyes stared at him.

Thinking about it I ordered the lot of them to face me, and shit, that was creepy. "Any you want me to keep?" I asked. "I heard spiders were good for silk and stuff."

"You know what's really good?" Herb asked.

"What?"

"When they're not in the house. With. Me!"

I snorted. "They're already in the house, you just didn't see them."

"Yeah," Boojack weighed in. "But, like, out of sight, out of mind and shit."

I sighed. "Fine, gimme a sec." I ordered them all out, and they streamed in a dark tide to every exit, the swarm obscuring all sight for a moment

"Is that all of them?" Herb asked after the last few exited out the window.

"Well, there's-" I stopped myself as I saw his warning look. "Yes," I told him flatly. "Yes, there are no more bugs in the house."

"Good," Boojack said, ambling out. "I'm going to sleep."

"Wait," I called, stopping him at the doorway. "The bags on the counter have your weed. The money is ours, but I still need to count it." Boojack nodded and walked off.

"Money?" Herb asked.

"I hit a Merchant drug-supply house," I explained, looking around the room and trying to figure out how to put it back together. "Hit them, took their money, and grabbed a couple bags of weed."

Herb nodded as we both heard Boojack yell out "Holy Shit!" in happiness.

Wandering over we saw Boojack almost cuddling one of the duffel bags. "I thought you said a few bags?" he asked as we watched.

"Yeah," I told him, not getting his surprise. "A few duffel bags. The money only took up half of one, so I filled the rest of it up, and two more just to make sure. That's stuff's lighter than I thought it would be."

Herb looked at me, dumbfounded as Boojack stated. "If you guys need me for something else, I'm so fuckin there. I'm gonna get high as shit!"

"What?" I shrugged. "I didn't have a scale and didn't want to short him."



Boojack made good on his promise, and Herb went to bed, stating that he'd done enough today and wanted sleep, unlike some other dumbass. I pretended not to notice. I started to count the money and, after I was sure Herb was asleep, called in some beetles to start organizing the mess he'd made of the workroom, splitting my focus between counting and getting them to sort through, and gather up, like items. Adding more beetles as I could handle them, having kept a group on standby, helped give my power a workout and iron out the, well, bugs. Giving general commands was easy, but individualized ones were much more difficult, and if I hadn't had my power keeping my body in peak condition, I probably would have had a killer migraine. I started to get one as I reached my limit, but holding it there caused it to eventually fade, and a bit after that I increased it again until I had to stop. It had been a couple hours and I was up to 82 beetles when BooJack stumbled in. He stopped as an already counted bundle of cash, held together with a rubber band, was carried past him by several beetles working in concert to move it to my office.

"Didn't you say you were getting rid of the bugs?" he asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.

I quirked an eyebrow. "I did, but then he went to sleep and I need the practice. They'll be gone in the morning, and no way he's getting up before daybreak if he doesn't have to." I continued counting as I talked, though splitting the focus dragged it away from the workroom bugs who started to fly around until I gave them a general 'land and stay still' command. The group carrying the money had dropped it, so I stopped counting while I got them to pick it up and drop it off before joining their fellows.

"You don't care about a few beetles, do you?" I asked, bringing one and having it settle on my hand.

He looked at it suspiciously. "They're not gonna eat my weed, are they?"

I didn't think they would naturally, but by the red glassines of BJ's eyes he was extraordinarily high, so I had some fun with him. "You wouldn't do that, would you Barry?" I asked the beetle in my hand, making it shake its body back and forth in negation.

BJ looked at the beetle before nodding to it back. "Okay Barry, you tell your friends the weed is mine, and if they eat it I'll squash them like a. ."

"Bug?" I offered.

"Yeah a bug," he finished. I had Barry run behind my hand, poking his head out in fear.

"Do you have to be so mean?" I asked him, pretending to pet the beetle comfortingly. "He wouldn't eat your weed."

"I'm sorry Barry," he told the puppeted insect. "But I gotta set boundaries. You know how it is." He looked at me. "Beetles get territorial and stuff, right? He'd understand."

I nodded, having 'Barry' go join the rest. "He's gonna go tell the others. Why'd you come in? You hungry?"

He thought for a moment before nodding. I sighed, got up, and made us both some sandwiches, directing him to bed after he finished eating, before I sat back down to keep counting while the beetles continued to clean the workshop.

Taking a break around three, I tried to see if I could use Fleshsculpting on the beetles, like Panacea did for Taylor later. The good news is that I could, the bad news was that I had no idea what I was doing, so it died pretty quick when I tried to make it stronger. The second one exploded when I tried to make it bigger, and the third one I gave a spike on its head, which was kinda cool, but then it couldn't fly, and died shortly after. Giving it up as a bad job I finished counting the proceeds, just over forty thousand, before I had to go try and fix the shelving. The beetles had separated out the mess, and the shelves were modular enough that I could rebuild them fairly easily, shifting them to make a sparring area near the door, the process going extraordinarily fast with one hundred and twenty-six little helpers. I stretched out and dismissed them back to the nest I was building in an abandoned box-car outside of the base as dawn bloomed.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.5

Making a quick breakfast, I started to get ready, picking up my mask before pausing. I looked at the mask I held, the mask which had been formed from my costume, but was now completely separate from the rest. Turning on Power Sight, I could see the threads of energy that ran through my costume, and one seemed to drift off in the direction of the mask before fading into nothing. At the mask what could only be the other end of the thread faded into sight, running through the length of the mask. Moving it moved the faded ends, the two ends always pointing at each other.

Now that I looked at the mask, it, too, was odd. Where I had assumed there were eyeholes, was nothing but blank, black material the same color as the mask. Putting it to my face, it was black until I put it on, where it lightened until I could see again. Walking to the bathroom I didn't see my own prismatic eyes, but instead just the black of the mask staring back. Concentrating on seeing my eyes the blackness faded until my eyes could be seen, but taking off the mask again showed not eyeholes, but clear sections for my eyes.

Thinking about it I reformed it into one of my first mask ideas, a white domino mask with red the color of arterial blood forming a border around it. Instead of eye-holes I had the white continue, covering the eyes completely. Putting it on, more pressing it to my face really, it stuck and I could see perfectly fine out of it. Looking in the mirror I saw just white where my eyes were, none of the telltale prismatic light shining through. Touching it lightly, I found that while the material had been soft when I handled it, the mask was now hard, resisting the pressure of my fingers easily, even, I hesitantly found out, on my eyes.

Reaching up to feel the edges, I found it flush with my skin, and couldn't find any point I could leverage to take it off. As I started to panic about being able to take it off, thinking was it changeable until I settled on a superhero costume, it immediately peeled off in in my hands, feeling like a somewhat rubbery fabric. Taking a deep breath, I held it and put it on, sticking to my face, before willing it off again, catching it as it fell.

Finished with that, I turned my attention to my costume. Turning to a pristine white bodysuit with a matching red set of gloves, boots, belt with pouches, and a strip at my neck where the costume ended. I considered adding a cape, but all I could think of was Edna Mode's emphatic "No Capes!" Instead I emblazoned a red caduceus, tweaking the snakes a little to give them the subtle horns of the Entities' shards.

Smirking at the joke, I checked the network to see when the PRT opened for visitors, noting that my new identity had been made, a Lee Elric, from Iowa, a town that had been wrecked when a cape named Voidshadow with the ability to effect gravity had been killed, before or after setting off a micro-black hole, destroying half the town and killing most of the people who lived there. Really, I thought, Voidshadow? What was he, 14? I checked just in case, but she was twenty-seven, so I was secure in my snark instead thinking badly of a kid with problems. My official documentation would be arriving today, but I had a social security number, bank account with the minimum required to keep it open, A credit card with a couple thousand in debt, jerk, and everything else your average person would need. I had a college degree for liberal arts, and had been doing odd-jobs to make ends meet on my work history, along with a single ticket for speeding several years ago. Number man cost top-dollar, but the identity was surprisingly complete.

The PRT opened at seven, which meant if I left now, I'd probably get there right as it opened. Checking that both my friends were sound asleep I cleared out the last of the bugs, including a couple that had snuck in without my help, and left the base.

Flying just over the buildings until I left the trainyard, I took off and did a quick drift over the docks and boardwalk, seeing the people just starting work, opening up shops and milling about early on Sunday morning. As I flew I could feel the bugs below me, but my power worked in a sphere several hundred meters around me, allowing me to feel those below me, but not more than a block at a time at my height far above the city. I tried to control some floating below me, but I didn't breach the triple digits like I had in the base while I flew and tried to pay attention to those around me.

Floating onward I headed downtown, lazily floating past the skyscrapers, waving casually at the cleaning staff on one floor as I moved by them. Looking around, I finally spotted the PRT building, a decently tall building of stone instead of glass with barred windows, a Helipad on top, and two guards on it looking up at me as I descended keeping at least a hundred feet away, guns at the ready. I waved at them as I dropped to street level, pushing open the clear glass doors of the lobby, stepping in lightly pas the guards who watched me warily, what must be foam sprayers ready, but not pointed at me.

Behind the front desk was a middle-aged man, who was trying to look calm as I walked up to him, and mostly succeeding. Should I hold up my hands to show I mean no harm? I thought. No, that will make them think I could do harm, and treat me like an armed gunman instead of someone potentially dangerous. I tapped into bugs around the base, and saw that in adjacent corridors soldiers were moving into position, as several analysts freaked out, a spider in the break room, along with the fly caught in its web showing me someone dropping their coffee as a sound went off and they started running. This is a bit much, I thought. They really should have had a 'New Hero? Click here!' option on their website if they didn't want them just to walk in. I pondered that obvious oversight for a second. Then again, with powers pushing for conflict, they might not have that many takers instead of people jumping into fights and meeting the Protectorate on sight.

"Hello," I told the man cheerfully, like this was perfectly normal and I was coming in to register a new car or something. "I'm a new hero and I'd like to register, as well as register an independent team. What forms do I need to do that?"

The man looked at me as if I had asked for a baby chihuahua and a quarter pounder with cheese. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"I'm a new hero, and I figured that before I went hero-ing I should register with the Parahuman Response Teams, see if there's a do's and don'ts booklet or something like that, and register me and my partners as an independent team. They think this is kinda stupid," I only half-lied, "But hey, good communication is necessary to working together, and prior planning prevents piss poor performance and all of that!"

He looked down at his computer as a phone rang. He looked at me hesitantly but I shrugged. "Take your time," I told him. "I'm not in a hurry."

He took the phone, giving out several "Yes sirs", a couple "No sirs", and one where he glanced at me before going "This wasn't in the training sir". He finally looked up at me asking, "If it isn't too much, what is your power. . ."

I smiled. "I was thinking of going with Vejovis for a name, unless that's taken, and I have the Alexandria package, bug control, and a limited healing ability."

He stared. "How do those go together?"

"How do powers work in general?" I asked, shrugging.

"Bug control?"

I pointed at the spider making a web in the far corner of the room. "Is it okay if I use my power in here?" No need to be rude I thought.

He looked taken aback before nodding hesitantly. Taking direct control of the spider, I had it abandon the web it was making and descend, scuttling across the floor before climbing onto the desk, stopping halfway between the two of us, the fingertip sized arachnid raising its forelegs in greeting. My power told me it was a funnel weaver, and that even if it did bite, it would be practically painless. As he watched I made it cartwheel across the table, falling on its back. I extended a finger and flipped it back over, making it bow in thanks before turning towards the man and standing at attention, one leg raised in a salute. "I'm still getting a handle on it," I told him. "General orders like 'come here' or 'go there' get a lot more, but I'm limited with fine control."

He looked at me. "Is it poisonous?"

"Even if it did bite you, you'd barely feel a thing, and it's not a threat to people," I told him, answering the question he meant to ask.

He nodded before going back to the phone, relaying what just happened while I had the spider do yoga, or as close to it as an arachnid could, pretending that I wasn't listening in on what he was saying. After a bit a woman in her early thirties walked in with some paperwork, wearing what looked like office wear, but she was a bit too muscular and moved a bit too smoothly to be the corporate drone she dressed as. Taking the paperwork, and producing my own pen, turning down her offer of one, I stood there and filled out the forms, occasionally making the spider look as if it was checking my spelling. I left the forms for personal identity, trigger circumstances, past actions, and other potentially incriminating fields blank, as I started to get the suspicion that I was being played.

"You need to fill those in," she told me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so, what was the worst day of your life mam, please don't shy away from graphic detail."

"What?" she asked starting to get offended.

"It's what you're asking for, so it's only polite to share." I told her, motioning towards the blank fields. "If this is what's actually required to register, I can now see why no-one ever does, and why my compatriots thought this was a fool's errand. For instance," I indicated the page I was currently working on, getting the spider to point to the relevant section. "You're asking for a blood sample. Not only is that incredible invasive, but with the amount of rogue tinkers out there, I'd rather not have to fight some cloned mutated version of myself in the future, let alone the possibility of powers that let you affect someone through their blood. I'll fill in the information I'm willing to give, and if that's not enough I'll leave."

"That's if you are allowed to," she said. Hmm, I thought. Either security or management, maybe both. Mark this down as reason 8 why I'm never joining the Protectorate.

"You're holding me? On what charges?" I asked, watching the two guards shift uncertainly. Good, she was undoubtedly taking a chance trying to goad the unknown parahuman who had demonstrated a low-level Master power, and was likely high on her own authority instead of following orders. At least her stupidity wasn't mandated, just probably encouraged. "I did make sure to hire a lawyer before I came here, and if you were to take the blood sample you wanted, I'm pretty sure that counts as illegal search and seizure." Note to self, go hire a lawyer.

She just glared at me so I stopped filling in sections, flipping through the "registration" form, finding nothing else they really needed to know about me. Turning to the sweating desk-clerk I asked. "This should be enough. I expected to have to be careful of being tricked by villains, not the good guys. Is there a 'form' for independent teams or should I just give you the basics?"

The 'aide' bit out, "If you and your friends come for a full testing, they will receive a stipend in order to follow PRT Guidelines."

I didn't even look at her. God, I hated these people. "We have no need of that, I was coming here as a courtesy, now, would you like information on my team or should I leave?" I asked the man. The woman started to say something when the phone rang again. He picked it up, before handing it to the woman who listened, before angrily shoving it back to him snatching the papers I'd filled out and stomped out a side door. I watched her go before turning back to the guy, and I couldn't help but comment "Some security people really need PR training. Has anyone checked to make sure she's not secretly a para-human? I've heard that sometimes the powers make you a bit antagonistic towards other capes." Both completely true statements, but what they implied was completely unfounded as I would have Seen her power if she'd had any.

The man behind the desk looked pained, as if he wanted to say something but doing so would get him in trouble. "So, right, Independent Hero Team. I'll be setting up a PO box later today, so I'll just mail you guys a postcard or something. As for the name, we're called the Penumbral Protectors, and our members-" I was cut off as the phone rang again. "Do you want to just put them on speaker or something?"

The poor receptionist took the call telling me "I'm being told you can't call yourselves Protectors because it's too close to the Protectorate, and I can't put him on speaker." The man looked scared. At least he understood the dangers of people with unknown powers.

I sighed, resting my face in my palm. "No, that makes sense. If I had some kind of 'hear my voice and be hypnotized' power keeping me here and contained would be ruined if I could talk to someone in charge." I looked up to see his panicked expression. "I don't have one of those, but you guys couldn't have known that. So, no protectors, it's not like they own the copywrite to the word, but okay," I mused as he calmed down. "Um. . . hmmmm. How about Penumbral Defenders?"

He listened in before nodding. "That's okay. Who else is on your team?"

"Right now it's myself and two brothers. One calls himself Break, the other is Enter. Both have strength and toughness that increases as they fight, kinda like Lung without the whole turning into a dragon thing, they heal as they fight, and Enter turns into dinosaurs."

He looked at me in disbelief. "Dinos?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "all kinds, he turned into a T-Rex once, and can do little ones as well. No idea how that fits, but it does. And either Enter turns invisible, or something else entirely, he didn't want to explain." The guy I was talking to looked around nervously as the guards by the door shifted again, sprayers pointed into the air where I wasn't standing. "I don't think he's here," I told him as I watched the rest of the base started to freak out through my bugs, going into full Master/Stranger protocols. I wasn't gonna mention that part, but the security chick had pissed me off. "I don't think he's here, probably. He's like seven feet tall. Either way it's just the three of us."

The PRT clerk looked at me. "A team with three members. That's small."

"Yeah," I responded a bit defensively. "We're starting small, then growing later. You know, 'started from the bottom now we're here'!"

He gave me a look of sheer disbelief before nodding. "You're actively recruiting?"

I nodded in return. "Yeah, but we're mostly settling in, getting a feel for the city, fighting crime, all that good stuff. Is that it?"

He listened to his boss before asking, "How long have you been a team?"

"Today. Right now, we just registered."

Again listening. "How long have you known them is what he meant."

"Oh! Break I've known for years, way before he got his powers. We used to play D&D together and chat online. His brother I've only known for a few days. He's kinda an ass, but follows Break's lead. If there's anything else I was planning on heading over to the hospital and see if I could help. Oh, and before I leave, do you want me to take the bugs out of your base? I can kinda feel them out there and around, so I could tell them to come here and just take them out, but it'd probably freak people out." I advised.

A few more moments of listening and he turned down my offer, wishing me a good day. I casually walked out, pausing by one of the guards who stiffened, but relaxed when I asked which way it was to the nearest hospital. He gave me the directions and I thanked him, leaving and taking flight from the sidewalk, heading to my next stop that day.



Landing outside the Brockton Central Hospital, I walked into the ER, seeing no one in line I approached the desk. Informing her that I was a healer who'd registered with the PRT (neglecting to mention I did so less than hour ago), and that I was here to help. A doctor was called in, looking annoyed at having to show up, and questioned me on my capabilities. Telling him I could heal, but only if I knew what was wrong seemed to actually make him happy for some strange reason, as well as the fact that my ability to generally heal things didn't work on anything more than a low-level problem. I was sent to a patient, an older man on a hospital bed, and told to wait there. The man was unconscious, and had a number of tubes connected to him, but otherwise the room was empty, quiet except for the occasional beeping.

After a few minutes the door opened and a girl walked in. Average height, with messy brown hair and freckles, it was the bags under her eyes I noticed first as she slowly walked in, like someone half asleep. If it wasn't for my Sight and her costume I wouldn't have recognized her. The hood of Panacea's white and robe put her face in shadow, hiding it, and the red scarf also served to distract, both emblazoned with pseudo-Caducei, the snakes having stars instead of heads, turning them into intertwined shooting stars below a first aid symbol instead of the winged staff on my chest. She started to walk over, her power a guttering candle to the campfire it had been yesterday. She stopped and looked at me for a second, light returning to her eyes as the flame stabilized. "Who are you?" she asked in the confused tone of someone not sure if they're dreaming.

"Vejovis, hero, independent team, new trigger and newly registered," I told her, holding out my gloved hand for her to shake numbly. "I asked the PRT for the nearest hospital to help at and they sent me here. I assume they want me to work with you because of your diagnostic power."

That got her attention. "What?" she asked, coming more awake. "How do you know about. . ."

I shrugged "I'm a healer, but I need to know what's wrong before I can heal them or I might miss something. From what I've heard you don't, so you obviously have some kind of thinker power that lets you diagnose things for you to heal, which is kinda awesome, so what's wrong with this guy?" I asked, jerking my thumb at the guy in the bed.

She glanced at me, muttering to herself, "Hero healer. That's what heroes do." Honestly I wouldn't have heard her if I wasn't cheating, and I got the feeling that if she were more awake, she'd never have said it. She started to ask, "Do I have. . ." before noticing he was out cold. She looked back at the doorway at a doctor who was waiting, looking bored and annoyed, and he nodded.

She touched the patient nodding to herself before shaking her head, looking at me. "He's got a broken pelvis, a weak heart, and a UTI from the catheter," she instructed. I walked over, miming manipulating something as I pulled off the index finger of my glove, putting it in my belt pouch as I touched the man's chest. "Okay, Pelvis is just reconnecting the bone, but I'm not sure about the heart or UTI, that's," I motioned towards his lap. "Right?"

She nodded, walking me through the steps of healing, feeling my progress as I worked. Happy with the progress, she turned to leave and I followed. The doctor looked unsure. "Where are you going?" he asked.

I motioned towards Panacea who didn't look nearly as tired, though she was still swaying slightly, watching us. "I follow her and she can walk me through healing someone while she heals someone else. It won't double the rate of healing, I'm not on her level, but it'll go a lot faster." She looked at me, brow furrowed in confusion to some part of my statement, though I wasn't sure which, it was all pretty self-evident.

When I looked back at her she turned to look somewhere else, the doctor thinking for a moment before saying "Yes, of course, I was just wondering why you were walking that way." I didn't point out that I had just followed Panacea, letting him officiously lead us to out next set of patients. From there we worked through room after room of sick and injured, Panacea diagnosing and walking me through the process while she healed someone else at the same time, my speed of Fleshsculpting drastically increasing in rate and precision under her expert instruction. I avoided my general 'get better' technique, since I wanted to run that by her somewhere that, if I was doing something wrong, wouldn't get me in trouble. There were some problems though.

"What? Why are you healing me? Why can't Panacea do it?" An older man with a clogged heart asked me indignantly.

"You have a clogged Circumflex Artery, and the others need to be cleaned, which is easy, she's curing cancer, which I'm still learning. Do you want the healing or not?" I asked, baffled that anyone would complain about painless life-saving healing with no long-term effects.

"I came here to be healed by Panacea, and I paid top dollar to do so!" He retorted angrily, puffing up his already ample chest.

By this time, we were attracting stares, and I was losing my patience, as every minute spent dealing this blowhard was another I could have spent healing some kid in bad shape. Is this how she feels all the time? I thought, glancing over her as she sleepily moved onto another patient. No wonder she pushes herself. Taking another track, I looked at him in questioning disgust. "Sir, there is literally no difference between Panacea or I healing you, except she can do it faster or. . ." I trailed off. "Is it the fact that she's a teenage girl, and you want her to touch you. Because, that's not appropriate, in the slightest."

He sputtered as the stares all around us turned from curious to disgusted. "Just heal me," he commanded imperiously as I rolled my eyes, touched the top of his hand, and cleared the arteries in seconds.

We kept working, moving from room to room as the time slowly moved on. After a bit I recognized that we were, with two exceptions for critically wounded patients, moving in a giant circle. Several times I had a doctor or nurse try to direct me away from Panacea, telling me that I knew enough and that their diagnosis would be good enough. I pointed out that it was my first day, and that for every new thing I still needed her explanations, which made them upset for some stupid reason, but they had no convincing argument against it so gave up after a few tries and stomping away in disgust. After the first attempt, I started reading the patient's charts as Panacea diagnosed them, finding a handful where they had been mis-diagnosed, and if I had gone from the chart I would have, at best, done nothing to help them, and at worst possibly killed them as instead of joining together a break, I would have fused two separate bones together, or something like that.

By the time noon rolled around, my stomach was rumbling and I needed a break to relax. Heading over as she gave sight back to a heavily scarred young woman, I tapped Panacea on the shoulder as I had taken to doing when I needed an explanation on how to heal something. "Oh, something new?" she asked hopefully, eyes drooping as she half smiled. "What is it this time?"

"Lunch," I told her, motioning towards the clock on the wall.

"What?" she asked, processing the words slowly. "Oh, um, you go, I need to keep going."

I snorted. "I've been with you all morning and neither of us have eaten, or even taken a break. Come on, it'll be twenty minutes, then we can go back to healing the masses."

She shook her head, "No, I'm okay, I'll just keep going," she insisted, the woman looking around in amazement as Panacea healed her burn scars. As I gave her a disbelieving glance her stomach gave a growl like a corned lioness.

She blushed as I asked. "When's the last time you had something to eat. I had some breakfast six hours ago, when did you?"

"Um," she said, not meeting my eyes. "I had something yesterday." She admitted, letting go of her now healed patient.

Rolling my eyes, I stepped beside her and put a hand on her back, pushing her towards the door calling to the rest of the room "We're gonna grab a quick lunch, then we should be back!"

A couple of the people inside cried out in anger, but I ignored them as we left and I started to head towards the cafeteria we'd passed a few rooms ago. The doctor that had been 'helping us' looked up from his phone as we passed, fiddling with it before running after us. "Where are you going?" he demanded, "You still have patients to see!"

"It's noon," I explained slowly, not stopping. "We haven't had a break all morning, we're going to get some food."

He ran in front of us, barring the way. "You can eat when you're done," he commanded, as if he were in a position to dictate terms to us. "Heroes wouldn't stop while people still need them," he added, almost vindictively, eliciting a wince from my companion, who made an attempt to turn back around, but gave up when I provided a bit of token resistance with my hand.

I stopped, looking at him. "Yeah, no. I'm taking a break and," I looked over at Panacea, who was leaning into my hand, struggling to stay awake. "Panacea, how long have you been working and how many breaks have you taken."

She looked sleepily back. "I started last night, and I haven't, people need me." My look of shocked disbelief prompted her to add. "They do, and I couldn't sleep anyways."

I looked back at the doctor. "She's been working all night? Why haven't you made her take a break, I'm pretty sure that, by law, you have to."

His look of indifference spoke volumes. "I started this morning, it's not my fault she didn't take any breaks. Can't she just make herself not tired, or is that beyond her capabilities?"

"Panacea, can you heal your own tiredness, or make yourself not hungry?" I asked calmly, looking at this dumbass and wondering how he finished medical school.

"Huh? No, can't heal myself. Don't do brains, it's wrong." She murmured, leaning more on me for support.

I looked at him with finality. "There you go. We're taking a break."

"You can if you want to, she still has work to do," he answered dismissively, reaching out to grab her shoulder, looking offended when I blocked his hand.

"Okay asshat, here's what's going to happen," I spoke calmly, reaching out for every insect in range. "You're gonna step out of the way, or I'm gonna do the hospital a favor and make all the insects in it leave." He looked unsure. "And I'm gonna do so, by making them all follow you for the rest of the day," I threatened as I started to pull them out of nearby rooms, the amount small at first, but starting to group together around him.

He shrieked and ran off, with the bugs starting to follow him, but going back to where they came after he turned the corner. Pushing Panacea forward as she muttered about not being nice, we entered the cafeteria as I responded that no, he wasn't. I moved her along as we got food, putting it all on a tray that I carried as people stared. Getting to the end the cashier blinked at us, before giving us the price.

"We're healers," I told her. "Take it out of what the hospital is paying us."

"Um," she glanced between the two of us nervously, checking her screen. "I don't have an account for Panacea or you Mr. . ?"

"Vejovis," I told her. "Today's my first day here. I've probably done over a hundred thousand dollars' worth of healing for the hospital this morning, I'm not sure how much they're paying me, but I'm sure it'll cover my lunch, and Panacea's even better at it than I am." The girl looked between the two of us, unsure. "And of course Panacea has an account, she's been doing this for a while, right?" I added.

The cashier nodded slowly. "She's been here for months, she must," she responded thoughtfully, "You might not be in the system yet. I'll go get my boss, go ahead and eat."

I brought our food over, directing her to a chair, commenting as I ate my burger. "That was weird, did you have that problem last time you ate here? How much are they paying you?"

She munched on her fries, eyes almost closed. "Never ate here, too busy, need to heal, be a hero, heroes don't ask for money." She looked almost zombie-like. No wonder, if she had been here since yesterday. I remembered how in the book, Amy had been running herself ragged healing trying to prove herself as a hero to her adopted mother, Brandish, who was always looking for evidence that she was a villain because Amy's dad was the villain Marquis. That was a messed-up family dynamic that I'd need to take steps to fix, let alone the entire 'sins of the father' thing that was pretty un-Christian. Normally, especially for teenagers, especially for teenage girls, someone would have stepped in to help, but if the doctor's attitude, and the fact that she didn't even have an account in the cafeteria were an indication, something was rotten in the state of Denmark. Or the halls of the hospital. The metaphor still worked.

A call of "You!" broke me out of my thoughts. I saw an older man in a suit coming over, Dr. Texts-a-lot behind him along with two orderlies that wouldn't look out of place as gang muscle. I glanced over at Panacea who had fallen asleep as I pondered the situation, and stood up to meet them.

"Can I help you?" I asked politely, aware of the other people in the cafeteria, two of which had pointed their phones at me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the man demanded.

"Well," I responded in a carrying voice. "Panacea and I had been healing patients all morning, and took a quick break to eat some lunch before going back to work. Is there a problem?"

"You bet your ass there's a problem! You still have people to see and you attacked my doctor!" he yelled.

I looked at him, adopting a confused body posture. Is this guy an idiot? I thought Or just so sure of his own power he thinks I should just bow. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you." I asked him in a confused tone. "I've been working for four hours, and Panacea twelve without a break. Also, I never touched the man."

"You sicced your bugs on him!" he accused, ignoring my point. Like Lung, is that a thing here? Is this why Herb hates New Hampshire?

"One," I started slowly, "So you agree that we had been working hours without a break and two, no I didn't. I suggested, that since he was so busy that he was trying to physically drag the teenage girl who was on the verge of passing out back to work, I could get the insects that have nested in the hospital to follow him out, so he could help while we got food. He turned down my offer. Neither I nor any insect I controlled touched him."

"And the food!" The man continued. "I've been informed that you didn't pay for it. As the Administrator of this hospital I could call the cops and have you arrested for stealing!" Dear god, is it like a disability or something? And he's the Administrator? Oh, no. I realized. I know what this is. He's either making things up or taking them out of context to make his point, and instead of admitting he's wrong he's just jumping to the next thing. I've met people like him before. This is not a person I can have an honest dialog with, time to change tactics.

I straightened up and looked him in the eye. "Are you telling me," I asked calmly, but letting the offense into my voice, giving it the qualities that would carry straight to several phones I saw recording. "That we've been working at your hospital, performing services for which I'm sure that you've charged hundreds of thousands of dollars for, today, and not only are you not paying us a thing, you aren't even supplying us food and demand that your volunteers not leave, acting the same as kidnappers? I've been here less than a day I'm sure that the local news would love to hear how this hospital, despite having a nigh-magical healer was paying her nothing, denying her breaks, and was giving her no support whatsoever. On top of that, when said hospital gained the service of a second super-powered healer they managed to alienate him in. A. Single. Morning!"

The director looked like he wanted to punch me, but doubled down on his high horse, settling for. "You are no longer welcome in this hospital, leave and never return, but first pay for the food you stole!"

I looked at him for a second, before I had to laugh. "Fine, whatever, you'll never see me in Brockton Bay Memorial Hospital again." I reached into my belt, the orderlies tensing as I took out my wallet, grabbing a fifty and leaving it on the table. Stowing it I turned back to Panacea. "Wake up Panacea, we're apparently not wanted."

"Not her!" he said. "Just you. We'll take care of her. Leave or you will be forced to leave!"

Again, I looked at him for a moment. What is wrong with this guy? I thought, before it clicked. Powers, most people have one, maybe two. He hasn't been informed I have an Alexandria Package. He's underestimating bugs and thinks that I can only heal, like Panacea claims. If I obviously use my biologically themed powers to attack people who are physically attacking me, he can try and play victim and fearmonger, but if I drop them with fisticuffs, he can't use that angle. "Yeah. No." I said. "This girl's been run ragged, call her emergency contact and I'll leave when I know she's not with people that work her to exhaustion."

"I will do no such thing!" He yelled, motioning for the orderlies to do something. I looked at them with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, you are not police officers, and if you put your hands on me, I will defend myself from your assault." They glanced back at the Administrator, who motioned them forward. I waited until one of them grabbed me before taking his arm, pulling it off my shoulder and shoving him backwards into the space between tables. He skidded several feet, looking surprised. "Right, I also have an Alexandria Package. I'm not moving until I'm sure she's safe, as apparently this hospital likes to assault people, or someone with actual authority shows up. Call. Her. Contact."

"I don't negotiate with criminals!" The blowhard stated, arms crossed, having now spotted the cameras.

"Then you shouldn't talk to yourself, since you've technically committed conspiracy to commit battery, and have all but admitted to false imprisonment. If you won't call her contact, I'll borrow her phone to do so." I told them, walking over to her robe and reaching a hand in her pocket to get her phone."

"He's molesting her, get him!" the idiot yelled, trying to play to the crowd. Leaning over to get the phone, one hand in her pocket I was in an awkward position, but still had no problem swinging out with my other hand slamming it into the chest of the other orderly who tried to tackle me, sending him into a table as a few people screamed.

Standing back up I looked at her phone, accessing her emergency contact, which was her adopted sister, Victoria, A.K.A. Glory Girl. "Are you high on painkillers or something?" I asked as I waited for her to pick up. "I told you exactly what I was doing. Throw incitement of violence on that list of reasons why you're a criminal."

"Hey Ames, What's up?" A teenage voice answered from the phone.

"Hello, this is Vejovis, new hero, healer, I'm at cafeteria at Brockton Bay Memorial Hospital. I was working with your sister when she collapsed from exhaustion, and the hospital staff refused to call you, attacking me when I tried. I'm guarding her until you can get here."

"What the fuck!?" she cried, and I could hear a quick "Sitch at the hospital Ames is in trouble, got to go Dean" Before the sound of wind picked up. "Stay right there!" and the phone disconnected.

Looking up I saw the Orderlies trying to take phones from the people that had been recording. "Put it in an e-mail and send it to yourself," I told them. "Then the file isn't just on your phone."

"You!" The administrator raged futilely. "Do you know what you've done? You'll never work in another hospital again!"

"Oh no, I'll never work for free without breaks in a place where I get yelled at if I try to leave and attacked if I try to help my coworkers? Whatever will I do with myself? Oh wait, I'll stay here until Glory Girl shows up." I drolled, glancing at the Orderly moaning on the remains of a table. "I want to say I'm sorry, but you did try to attack me when I was distracted, so I wasn't able to be as nice."

I stood there, waiting as several more Orderlies showed up and tried to force people to leave. Several near me who hadn't stopped recording moved around me to keep doing so, and when the orderlies tried to shove past me I shook my head at them, indicating the injured one who they carried away before backing off.

I heard someone shout "wait!" and felt a feeling of artificial awe a half second before Glory Girl flew through the door, the sounds of footsteps coming behind her as an unpleasant looking man ran in behind her. She took one look at the cafeteria, myself standing between her sister and a squad of orderlies, and the people filming it all behind me before demanding, "They say you kidnapped her. What the hell is going on?"

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.6

"I'm not," I told her, "but first, what does your master power do exactly?"

She looked confused as she floated closer, probably believing that she was the greater threat in close quarters combat. "What? Why?"

I stepped away from her sister. "Humor me, please."

"Well," she said getting between Panacea and I, "Um, it makes people think I'm awesome, and criminals scared why?"

I gestured towards the Administrator, the person who followed her, the Doctor, and the orderlies, who were all backing away, several of them trying to hide behind each other, and then the people behind me, who were filming, and looked like this had made their day.

"Okay, seriously, like what the fuck is going on?" Glory Girl demanded.

I shrugged. "It's like I said on the phone. I'm Vejovis, a new healer, who came here to heal people and learn how to do so from Panacea. She looked tired, but I didn't think much about it until lunch time rolled around and the doctor over there," I indicated Dr. Texts-a-lot, "Told us we couldn't stop for lunch or a break, he tried to physically drag her back so I pressed the issue and he ran to his boss while we got lunch. Turns out that they don't pay her anything, and won't even handle her meals, and told me to pay for the food I 'stole'" I explained, using air-quotes. "And to leave, while they'd 'take care of her'. I asked they call her contact because she obviously needed to go home and get some rest, since she fell asleep while eating, they refused to, and attacked me when I told them I was getting her phone to call you. I'm assuming they lied to you when you got here, to try to get you mad and attack me for them."

The Superheroine blinked dumbly. "Okay, what the hell?" she glanced at her sister, the administrator, and the doctor before looking back at me. "She's worked herself hard before, but they're never that bad when I'm here."

"You mean when you have a mind control aura that makes them not want to make you mad? Gee, I wonder why." I answered sarcastically. Did she forget about her own power?

She blushed in embarrassment, getting defensive. "It's not a Master ability, it's a Shaker."

"That just means it's area of effect instead of making minions," I shot back before dragging myself back to the topic at hand. "But without you here, they apparently are totally okay playing off her desire to be a hero to manipulate her into working her like a slave." I saw her start to get more upset, and cut off her response before we could get more sidetracked than we already were. "Get your sister, the two of us have been told we're not wanted here again ever."

"Not her, just you!" the administrator tremulously called.

I rolled my eyes. "My bad, I've been told that I'm not wanted here because I can't be manipulated into working more than a slave. People still feed their slaves." Why am I getting so testy? I thought as Glory Girl nodded before turning around and picking up her sister and floating towards the door, the feeling of awe diminishing slightly as she moved away. Ah, that. I thought as I followed and the feeling increased. I hate being manipulated, and feeling emotions that had no apparent cause irked me.

I followed her out, shaking my head at the administrator as I walked, the few people still recording following after, one orderly making a grab for a phone that missed as the woman recording ducked and followed after me faster. "So," I said, coming up even with Glory Girl, walking quickly to keep up. "Panacea said she had been working since yesterday. Does your mother know?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. Ames does this sometimes, even with me telling her it isn't good."

I feigned shocked concern, despite expecting the answer. "Does this happen often?

She winced. "Not really, but sometimes on weekends I check on her if she's working." I snorted, she got defensive. "What?"

"Work suggests she's getting paid." I told her. "Apparently she wasn't, which might have been how they told themselves it was ok to take advantage of her. There's laws regarding employees, but volunteers aren't protected. Lawmakers probably assume that if things get bad, volunteers'll just leave."

We walked out the front doors, Glory Girl coming to face me. "I better bring her home, thanks for calling me. You're okay."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Do you want me to head back and talk to Brandish about what happened? I figure since she's Panacea's mom she ought to know."

Glory Girl wouldn't meet my eye. "I'll tell her, it'll be fine. Besides, I can't carry both of you."

I levitated using my copy of her power. "You don't need to, I can fly." She looked shocked. "Sorry, didn't get to do the full intro in there. My name is Vejovis, I'm a new trigger and a newly registered independent hero, head of the Penumbral Defenders, a new independent team. My powers are bug control, healing, but not diagnosing like your sister, and an Alexandria package. I'd offer to shake your hand, but they're full." I joked.

"Okay," she said, starting to lift up in the air watching as I kept pace. "That's weird. Bug Control?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, no idea where that comes from. Makes about as much sense and strength, flight, durability, and an emotional inspiration field. Powers, right?"

She nodded. "Okay. Icky, but okay."

I laughed as we flew over the city. "They're less gross when I control what they do, but it's limited to bugs, so rats still gross me out."

We flew for a bit before she asked. "You said you didn't diagnose? What d'ya mean?"

"You know how Panacea can touch you and knows what's wrong with you?" Glory Girl nodded. "I can't do that. Surface level stuff that I can see are easy, but anything underneath the skin I need a picture of, and steps on how to fix it. She was helping me understand how to heal different things as I worked. Panacea's pretty amazing with that stuff."

She nodded, before tilting her head in question. "Why do you keep calling Ames Panacea?"

"Professional Courtesy, Glory Girl" I responded immediately. "Her identity might be known, but until she gives me permission to call her by real name I won't use it. Like how you call someone Mr. or Mrs. and use their last name until they say 'call me, whatever'."

She looked thoughtful about this as we flew in what I realized was almost a parabolic arc towards her parent's house, finally stating "You were surprised when I said mom didn't know Ames was wor- at the hospital."

I mentally praised my acting as I took on a serious expression. "I've finished college, but if I were working in high school, she's in high-school, right?" I asked, continuing at her nod. "If I were in high school my mom would want me to call her if I was working late, and if I didn't come home she'd call me to make sure I was alright. I was just surprised that she didn't. I meant it as a rhetorical question, that's why I was surprised when the answer was no. I'll have to ask her why she didn't know where her teenage daughter was when I talk to her."

"Yeah, you might not wanna do that," she advised as we descended in front of a nice-looking house. She tried to move to get to her belt, but was having trouble with her hands full of healer. I motioned towards the doorbell and pressed it when she nodded.

A minute later a severe looking blonde answered the door, glancing at Glory Girl before glaring at me. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Mom, he's a hero," Glory Girl told her moving forward and angling past the woman to take Panacea inside.

"My name is Vejovis Mam. I'm a newly registered hero on a new team. I presume you are Brandish?" I asked, holding out my hand, which she ignored.

"What were you doing with my daughter?" she asked instead. Okay, someone's having an off day I thought.

"One of my powers is healing, though I'm not nearly as good as Panacea. I was working at Brockton Bay Memorial Hospital with her as she taught me to use my power more effectively." I waited a beat to emphasize my extended hand before slowly retracting it.

Her glare didn't lessen. "What did you do?"

I looked at her for a moment, controlling my emotions completely and stomping down my first response, which would be to meet her aggression with my own. For some reason she reminded me of one of my exes, who would want to get upset with a person, even if they didn't really deserve it, but would wait for something to react to as an excuse, even if her response was in no way proportional. I would thus, deny her the chance by acting perfectly professional. "When your daughter collapsed from overexertion, given that she has been working at the hospital since yesterday without a break, Mam, I wished to call her emergency contact. The hospital did not wish that to happen, likely due to the fact that she had not been allowed to have a break by the hospital staff, as they kept telling her that if she was a hero, she wouldn't stop, and they didn't want this fact to come to light Mam. It was a both simplistic and dirty manipulation that worked very well on your daughter, Mam, and was likely why she pushed herself past her limits in the first place. The Administrator told me to leave when I took a break, and had his orderlies attempt to restrain me when I informed them I wouldn't leave until someone came for your daughter, Mam, as she had fallen asleep a minute after sitting down. I used your daughter's phone to call your other daughter, who arrived and carried her back here, Mam. One of my other powers is flight, which I used to follow her so I could tell you what happened in person. Mam."

As I talked Brandish seemed to get more upset, probably because I wasn't giving her anything to lash out at me for. She hadn't made much of an appearance in the book, but what I had seen wasn't good. "And why did you stay if they ordered you out?" she asked.

"Why did I stay and not leave her with the people who had worked a teenage girl until she passed out, and then refused to call her parents when she was unconscious? Really Mam?" I asked in return, voice almost devoid of emotion.

She narrowed her eye, her hand starting to glow. "Don't take that tone of voice with me young man!" she practically hissed. Ah, I thought, repressing my feelings harder and keeping my face emotionless. The last bastion of the harridan, lie about the other person's 'tone' while simultaneously pretending you have done nothing wrong, standing on your age and gender to presume you have the moral high ground. Brandish, you are bitch, and the faster I get your daughters to notice, the better off they'll be.

I started to open my mouth to respond but was cut off by Glory Girl saying "You're still out there? Geez mom, he's cool, let him come inside!"

Brandish glared at me even harder, "He was just leaving."

"What, really?" she asked, coming back and squeezing past her mom. "Thanks for calling me, you helped Ames out, and I'm glad you did!"

I returned her smile with one of my own, physically turning to look at her and ignoring Brandish completely. "It's the least I could do for another hero, let alone one that was teaching me how to use my power." I reached into a belt pouched and pulled out one of the cards I'd printed that morning. "Here's my contact details, please give it to Panacea when she wakes up. I enjoyed working with her and would like to do so again."

As I handed over the card Brandish reached out and snatched it out of my hand. Glory Girl looked at her mom in surprise. "I'll take that," the sad excuse for a mother said.

I looked back at Glory Girl and rolled my eyes. "My number is 1 777 835 6487. It's 1 777 Vejovis essentially. Thanks for your help too, have a nice day Glory Girl."

And with that I turned my back on Brandish and took off, using my sound control to listen as Brandish told her daughter "He's dangerous, stay away from him," only for her daughter to respond "What the hell mom? He was being nice!"



I entered the trainyard and flew low to avoid detection, landing at the base a little before one. "Lucy, I'm home!" I called, feeling a little let down when I got no response. Poking around I found BJ in the kitchen, making a gigantic plate of sandwiches, giggling as he did so.

"Boojack?" I asked him. He waved me off, so I left, looking around for Herb. I saw the light was on in Herb's room. Poking my head in I saw him in his bathroom, studying his reflection in the mirror, lips pulled back. "What are you doing?" I asked causing him to jump.

"Dude!" he told me excitedly. "I've got Vampire teeth!"

"It's been two days, you just realized this?" I asked incredulously.

"I forgot," he defended, fingering them. "I know I was gonna get them, but these are hardcore. I was expecting, like, Buffy teeth."

"You're a Case 53," I told him, walking in. "They need to be obviously inhuman features. 'Buffy teeth' could just be unusually large."

"Yeah, but these are like Bella Lugosi long. I like it!" he commented, going back to looking at them in the mirror. "Yeah, Buffy teeth are so short!"

"I think they had that game-face demonic visage thing they had was supposed to balance that out."

He nodded. "Yeah, at least I don't sparkle."

"Dude, I don't think you'd be able to make it as a supervillain if you sparkled," I laughed. "Not without murdering enough people to get a kill-order on your head."

Herb thought about it. "It would be a challenge, but maybe too much of one."

"No, it would just suck," I disagreed.

"Yeah!" Boojack yelled from another room. "It'd suck, you gay-ass bitch!"

I sighed. "Thank you Boojack for your helpful contribution."

"You're welcome!" he called back without a hint of remorse.

"God he's a dick," I commented to Herb. "Is that what you could really be like if you took a different path?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"Thank you for not being like that."

"Oh, I thank myself all the time," he answered without missing a beat.

"Nevermind," I sighed, to his amusement. "I met Brandish," I told him, testing to see if it was all the older white woman he was interested in, or just the white supremacist ones.

He looked up at me in confusion. "Why? She's a cunt!"

Apparently not. "I registered at the PRT, our team name is the Penumbral Defenders."

"Penumbral. . ." he trailed off, thinking. "I like it, we're the police department, since the Protectorate ain't doin' shit!"

"What?" I asked. "No, I figure since we're going to be a team of heroes, villains, and rogues when I track down my father that some sort of shadow theme name would work. My first Idea was fpr Crusaders but Crusader is already an E88 cape so that was out."

"Yeah," Herb agreed. "Plus the whole Christian thing, and it's gay as shit, we'd get called Twinkles or something like that."

"What's wrong with Christian thing, the word isn't inherently religious." He gave me a look. "Fine, but why the police? We're. . . Oh, I get it. Our initials would be PD, like Police Department. Okay, yeah, I can see it now. Wasn't intentional."

"Still awesome," he added. "And we'll be the cops people can like, instead of just shooting black kids!"

"Statistically speaking white people are. . . you know what, it doesn't matter. Either way," I said, dragging the conversation back on topic. "It's our official name. So after registering I went to go help out healing with Panacea-"

"Dude, you've got a problem," he interrupted.

"I will hurt you, and I won't even feel that bad, because I can heal you now." I promised. "So, I worked with her, getting practice healing and she taught me a lot about healing things I can't see. Thing is, she'd been working since yesterday double shift at least, maybe a triple shift with no breaks at all and was dead on her feet. When we stopped for lunch, which I had to fucking threaten the doctor who was 'helping' us with bugs just to get, the hospital admin comes and tries to chew me out. Oh, and get this, not only were they paying us nothing while charging the patients, they wouldn't even cover lunch, and accused me of 'stealing' when the cashier chick said we should be good and went to go check."

"Damn," he said. "That's fucked up, what'd ya do?"

"I was ready to split, but Panacea had fallen asleep, and they wouldn't even call her contact to come pick her up. Dude had his goons try to jump me and throw me out, didn't know I had strength, dumbass, and they attacked me after I said I was going to use her phone to call her emergency contact. So I put them on their ass, called her, and Glory Girl showed up. You know that mind control power she has?"

"The fear/awe aura thing?"

"Yeah, turns out that even with them lying to her that I'd been 'holding her sister hostage' when she showed up and they nearly shit themselves, well it was pretty damning fucking evidence they did something wrong. So, she picked up Panacea, and we flew back to her house, where I got the 4th degree from Brandish despite doing nothing wrong!" I exclaimed. "She was looking for anything to get mad at, so I was polite and professional, which just pissed her off more since she couldn't find anything to get mad at!"

Herb winced. "Um, dude, that was the wrong thing to do?"

"What?" I asked. "I was being professional, what the hell's wrong with that?"

"Okay," he prefaced. "So, Brandish's a total bitch, but remember she has a massive hate-on for Marquis, who was always professional, who reminded her of her kidnapper, who was too. The one that made her trigger. By bein' all 'professional'," he said with air quotes, "All you did was remind her of both of the dudes she fuckin' hates."

"Oh. Shit, you're right." I replied, sighing. "Fuck it, I never was gonna get her on my side to begin with, and she's too stuck in her paradigm and her power is too limited for her to be worth helping. I'd rather have Panacea on my team anyways. My being perfectly professional to her bitchiness will just distance them from her faster, since god knows she'll never deign to explain herself to her kids, and it'll make he look like the irrational harpy she is." I stretched. "You ready for tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah," he grinned, before looking at me seriously. "But you can't help, she's gotta fight this on her own."

I nodded. "Yeah, if it goes like cannon. We did piss off Lung in a way that didn't happen in cannon though, so if it starts to get really bad, I'm stepping in."

He nodded, "So when do we head out?"

"Nightfall." I responded. "But before that, I'm building a Railgun!"

"Wait, What!?"

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.7

I finished my project with an hour and change to spare. It would have gone faster, but I'd promised Herb I wasn't going to bring in bugs, and I wasn't going to now that I wasn't cleaning up his mess. Having built and tested my device, I folded it up and left it by the door, going to make everyone dinner.

After a descent chicken-alfredo baked penne, Herb and I got into costume, ready to take the next step on our Path to Victory, and I secured my weapon to the back of my costume, willing it to stick in place to hold it there, threads reaching out and securing it.

The sun had set an hour ago, and twilight was shifting into darkness as we got ready to leave. Standing outside Herb looked at me expectantly. "How we gonna do this?" he asked. "You can fly, but I can't copy your copied powers, so should I have Enter turn into a giant bird or something?"

I shook my head. "I can just carry you, besides, I registered him as turning into Dinos, so stick to them unless shit gets really bad. A princess carry'll have to do," I told him, holding out my arms.

"Ahh, are you my prince?" he asked as he jumped into my arms.

"Dude, you guys are so fucking gay." Boojack commented from inside the doorway.

Herb hopped out of my arms and took off his mask as he ran over to BJ, grabbing his replicant by the head, declaring "Boojack! I love you soooo much!" before kissing him straight on the mouth.

Running back, he jumped into my arms as I declared "Ambiguously Gay Duo, away!" and took off into the night sky, the both of us laughing.

We flew around for a while, I shifted us into Shadowform once we reached a hundred feet, flying around the docks looking for Taylor. I hesitantly felt with my bug sense, ready to disconnect it if I go to close. With my extended range I'd detect her before she detected me, but if I tipped her off that I was in the area, the fight might go much differently. After a bit we landed to give my arms a break, Herb copying my Power Sight to improve his own vision as he looked around. "Anything?" I asked stretching out.

"Nah, just some thugs," he told me, pointing them out.

I got ready to pick him up again when I stopped and thought. Glory Girls' Alexandria package was really just one power, not three. Her forcefield blocked damage, enhanced her own strikes, and moved her, but the first two needed recharging. Actually, it was the moving that I thought about, since she could still feel things, breathe, all that fun stuff, that meant that the field was malleable. "Give me your hand," I told Herb. Grabbing it I concentrated on her power, specifically on extending it past me to cover him as well, levitating myself and trying to levitate him as well. He watched, interested, as I tried it for a few times with no result until I mentally thought of cupping him with my forcefield, like a metaphorical bowl that lifted him rather than a full forcefield that locked him in. He squeaked as he lifted up with me, and moved as I moved my arm, maneuvering him around as if he were weightless.

"Holy shit, you really are Superman!" he cheered before thinking. "Does this make me Lois Lane?"

"You get into enough trouble," I commented as he had the gall to look offended. "But no, there's not a good Superman analogy. Try letting go," I advised, moving him a few feet over the ground. He did so, and fell to the ground with a yelp, taking the fall into a roll before looking down at himself in surprise. I hmmm'd before nodding. "Okay, I can extend it to move people, but I need skin contact. Actually, wait a sec." I told him floating down into an alley and grabbing an empty bottle. I came back up holding it by the neck and floating, extending my field over it. "Try grabbing it now."

He did, but didn't float. When I pictured the forcefield extending past the bottle to lift him, there was a crack as the glass deformed and crushed into itself, leaving only dust. "Holy shit," Herb commented as I grabbed another bottle.

"Okay, I can extend it, but not through two things. Different experiment." This time I covered it with my forcefield, trying to cover it, not cup it like I had Herb. Leaning down I swung it against the ground in a motion that should have broken it. Instead I felt the strength of my forcefield diminish as it gave a loud thunk, cracking the cement we stood on. "Okay, that might be useful," I murmured, reaching for Herb's hand again with my free one. This time I focused on covering both weapon and cupping Herb, lifting slowly, bringing both up with me without a problem, and moving us over a few buildings in case anyone investigated the disturbance I made.

Nodding to myself I stuck the bottle to my back just in case, grabbed my friend by the forearm and waited until he did the same, then extended the forcefield and took off, phasing out as we started to cover the docks in a less intimate position.



After another few hours of searching, with both of us silent as we looked for a disturbance, I felt a pull on the bugs at the edge of my range. I oriented us that way, tracking the direction of the pull as it slowly moved before turning off that power and taking us in that direction, murmuring to Herb "Found her," as I wrapped us in a bubble of silence, making sure that any noise we made wouldn't be heard.

"You're not using the bug power?" he asked as we flew. I glanced at him. "The web faded, which looked fucking cool but holy shit there are a lot of bugs out there."

I nodded. "I don't want her to feel me through the power and get distracted."

He nodded back, pointing out the darkly mottled shape of Taylor creeping along, the grey and yellow flame that shone once I focused on her highlighting her in her own web of power as she pulled and controlled thousands of insects at once. He was right, it was impressive. I flew several hundred feet above her and kept pace as she flitted from shadow to shadow in the docks, moving bugs to scout ahead as she moved. After following her for close to an hour, I saw a group of people gathered together, one familiar figure standing head and shoulders above the rest, the grey and orange flames of his power reaching up into a dragon that paced as it flickered. Looking at her path, I saw her stiffen, before heading for a nearby fire-escape and I knew it was time to get set up. Herb pointed at nearby building but I shook my head, heading to one farther away and higher. We set down, and only our enhanced sight let us see Taylor as she finished the climb, creeping to get into position, her insects starting to swarm.

"Dude, we're too far away to help if she needs it," He said. "Not that she does, but you said-"

"We're well within range," I interrupted, taking out the device behind my back and setting it up, Extending the tripod and folding out the trough.

"Oh shit, is this the railgun?" he asked looking over the device. "It looks kinda, basic."

The railgun, as it was right now, was the bottom half of a length of pipe mounted on a tripod, with sights, and small set of rails perpendicular to the pipe which ended at the back of the pipe and a single handle attached to the bottom of the pipe. "It's 'cause it is," I responded. "I only had a few hours to build it."

"But aren't, don't those things have magnets and shit to shoot things? Where's the battery?"

I laughed. "You're looking at him." I grinned. "Instead of a magnetic field, I'm using something better." With the base secure, and the feet extended, I started laying speed zones down the length of the pipe, each layer turning it darker and darker, until it was hard to see against the dark of the night, the sparks it gave off an eggplant purple, a slight breeze picking up from it as air molecules hit the zone and accelerated. I grabbed a bolt and slid it along the track, moving it into a divot I'd cut to hold it in place before it would drop into the trough and be accelerated, probably to five times the speed of sound if I'd done my calculations correctly. Instantly lethal to an unarmored opponent, enough to knock Lung flat on his ass and take him out of the fight. Probably. Hopefully. It would make a hell of a noise, so no test firing, but the arc would only have an inch of drop at this range and speed at most, and I adjusted my sights accordingly.

Looking down them I could see Taylor crouched on the rooftop, directing her bugs below, the sounds of gunfire and the burst of flame from Lung showing her attack had begun. We stood there, tense, as the battle played out like canon, with the thugs running and the light from Lung's fire becoming more intense as he transformed. Then. . . there! Taylor started to leave, not knowing that as Lung's transformation progressed, he gained what he believed were a dragon's senses. By the movement of the light and shadows, Lung was climbing the building as Taylor rummaged around her backpack, taking out two things, hard to see at this distance. "What's she got?" Herb asked, either of me or himself as she advanced on the dragon as it started to crest the top of the building. Instead of scoring a shoulder shot the first time, she hit him square in the eyes, Lung covering his eyes as he bellowed in pain with his free hand, still clinging to the ledge with his other. Taylor darted forward, what looked like a baton in her other hand, striking at his free hand. Lung started to let go, but grabbed the ledge again, shooting a stream of flame at Taylor, probably guessing her position from the impact of her weapon. She twisted away, falling prone as the fires barely missing her, and scrabbled backwards, frantically crab-walking away from the scaled menace, summoning her bugs to help.

"This is different," I commented coldly, sighting on Lung and preparing to fire. "She gets burned I'm taking this fucker down, or if he gets a good hit in. I can stabilize her, and Panacea can heal her, but I'm not taking more of a chance than that."

"Agreed," he responded, all joviality gone as we watched the confrontation.

They swarmed him, going for his eyes again, blinding him as he let out gouts of flame, Taylor taking shelter behind a vent as Lung struck out blindly. Hitting nothing, and doing very little other than scorching the rooftop. Taylor had her baton, but with the villain's wild swings, she was playing it safe, trying to distract him with what few stings she could get in before her swarms perished. Smart girl, but I already knew that. Lung continued to shift, the fire around him intensifying as he started to move towards Taylor. "Bitch's coming." Herb commented as I was about to take the asshole down, finger on the bolt.

Sure enough, a large shape launched itself from a nearby rooftop, the monster body slamming into the dragon, claws scrabbling uselessly on the iron scales, but it's imparted momentum taking both of them off the side, a whining howl mixed with a surprised roar that cut off after a moment, the firelight dying down quickly. "Good," I commented, moving the bolt off of the firing line and pocketing it. "I'm gonna drop the field, be right back," I told him, carefully taking the tripod and flying to the alley behind us. Looking away and closing my eyes as I tried to strip off the fields one at a time, but the collapse of one triggered the rest, flashing my vision red through my closed lids. Quickly collapsing the structure and sticking it to my back, I flew up to see Herb looking in my direction.

"That was really fuckin' bright!" he told me as I grabbed his hand, shifting us to shadow and taking off, seeing Taylor and the Undersiders all looking in our direction, but without enhanced vision of their own they shouldn't be able to see anything that mattered.

"Stronger it is, the brighter it is," I apologized. "Maybe if I could strip off the layers one at a time it would be better, but I've been kinda pressed for time." He nodded as we rose high above, watching Taylor talk to the villains, before they climbed on what must be Bitch's dogs and riding off. Grue was right there, constantly leaking darkness, but to see it I'd have to shift back into full visibility, and I wasn't doing that anywhere near Tattletale if I didn't have to.

Armsmaster arrived a moment later, shooting Lung with his specialty tranquilizer before Batman-ing up to the rooftop Taylor stood on with a grappling hook. I didn't need to hear them to tell that he talked her into letting him take credit, the douche, and sent her on her way before anyone else could show up and realize that Armsdick hadn't performed a solo takedown. We watched her descend the fire escape, and start to head back home. Looking at her path, I saw she planned to take cut through an alley a couple of blocks away that would be perfect. Stopping on the rooftop to phase in, I kept a hold on Herb as we dropped over the ledge and dropped down, slowing our fall right before we touched down.

Looking at her, I saw that she'd already taken off her mask and was staring at us, eyes wide behind her glasses. The insects around us started to swarm as she visible panicked, probably thinking she'd just outed herself. Bringing my own, more powerful bug control online I took hold of the swarms around us and grounded the lot of them. She gave a shriek of terror as she fumbled for her baton, dropping it before catching it and holding it out in front of her unsteadily. Herb took the lead.

"Woah, woah, slow down, slow down," he said motioning with his hands as we calmly walked towards the panicking girl. "It's not what you think, but it's not what you don't."

She glanced at him, still keeping most of her attention on me, confusion vying for fear across her face. I looked at him stating, "Wow, that was such a clear statement," before turning my attention back on her as she tried to grab control of the insects around us.

"The world is never that clear," he reasoned, projecting an aura of calm relaxation.

I glanced back. "No, sometimes it really is."

"Taylor, darling-" He started.

"Don't say darling dude, that's creepy," I interjected. Why did I let him take the lead on this?

"Taylor, darling" he reiterated. "I know you're gonna try this whole superhero thing. "

I felt compelled to add "That's not a bad thing,"

"It's not," he amended, "But it's also not the right thing."

"Yes it is," I retorted, folding my arms, flexing my power to keep her bugs calm, despite her continuous attempts to take control. "'Not the right thing,' says the villain. Hero here, doing the right thing is the right thing. That's why it's called the right thing!" I sighed. "we're getting sidetracked again aren't we."

"Yeah," he ruefully agreed, as if hadn't started it with his inscrutable bullshit.

Taylor, thoroughly off balance by this point, tried going on the offensive "Who are you? How do you know my name? What are you? You're a hero, but he's a villain? What's going on!?" she demanded.

"Listen," Herb started carefully. "That, I could tell you but. . . Well, you wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Sorry," I added "You really wouldn't."

Herb redirected the conversation. "Can we just stick to the fact that you really don't want to be a hero."

Taylor and I responded at the same time with "Yes I do/ Yes she does." I continued as she stared at me, curiosity overcoming her fear. I Explained to both of them, for different reasons, "Armsmaster isn't a hero, he's a power-hungry corporate climber with tunnel-vision so bad he doesn't understand anything not directly related to his goal, and willing to sacrifice almost anything to get it."

Rolling his eyes, he clarified, "You don't want to be one of those heroes-"

"Exactly!" I interrupted, clamping back down on the bugs that were swarming behind us. "Independent teams are the way to go!" I selected a few beetles and used them to float my card over to her, which she took, before I released control over those six, letting her puppet them around for a second as a show of good faith. She turned her attention back on us as they landed in her hair, disappearing.

Herb waited for that little show to finish before adding, "You don't want to be New Wave either."

"Yeah, that's not what I meant by independent teams." I sighed, "They've got some serious problems, but those are more psychological and sociological than anything inherent to being an independent team."

"Thing is," Herb told her, "the Undersiders are going to be something amazing for you, and you're gonna mess with it, by trying to be a hero. You're not gonna mean to do it, but you are."

I weighed in. "They're generally good people, for definitions of good, but their boss is, ugh." I gave a theatrical shutter.

He tried to drag the conversation back on topic, "Look darling, I have future sight, trust me."

"Annoying is what it is," I chimed in. "It also doesn't function how you think, and it makes planning things a pain."

She seized on that lead and ran with it. "Is that how you know who I am? I tell you in the future, so you know now? Is that how you knew where I was?"

"In a way," I agreed. "As far as I can tell, our view of the future doesn't set off Time Paradoxes, so we're free to act on it. We didn't mean to catch you with your mask off," I told her truthfully. "But we knew who you were anyways."

"So, here's the thing darling," he tried again, and I think I could hear the frustration in his tone as we got on a tangent he didn't control. "I want to offer you- we want to offer you," he corrected at my look, ignoring my thumbs up, "a better option."

"Saving people without dealing with large amounts of bureaucratic BS!" I explained. "And not being commanded by the government to do blatantly illegal things because 'shut up I'm in charge, do what I say or I'll break the law even further to punish you because that's how the law is supposed to work' or things like that," She looked at me in mild confusion. "Which is the Protectorate and the PRT, and what they'll become later in Brockton Bay. Don't believe me? Wait a few days and call Armsd-master," I advised, almost slipping. "Talk to him about possibly infiltrating the Undersiders, but know that he's gonna rip you a new one because of a fuck up that he made that he's gonna blame you for."

"What?" she asked. "What did he do, does Lung escape?"

I shook my head. "He does later, but that's not what I'm talking about. Armsmaster took sole credit for taking down Lung, dick move by the way, the rep for taking down the Dragon of Kyushu would make the local villains respect you and be wary of you, not make you a target."

Herb added, "You took down a serious threat, one that normally takes a team of capes to beat. People would be going 'Oh my god, you did this really awesome thing, please join our Wards team, and then you could negotiate for almost anything you wanted. School transfer? Done. Investigation into your bullying? Done. New ballin' bugs that aren't native to here? Done and Doner."

I nodded, "But that's not going to happen now because Armsmaster already called in his solo takedown of Lung, isn't he amazing? But what did he actually do in the fight?" At her look of dawning horror I repressed a smile, this was too easy. "Yeah, thing is, Tranquilizers? Anesthesia in general? It's a lot finicky-er than movies, tv, and books make them out to be." Herb nodded in agreement sagely. "He said his tranqs were configured to take down brutes like Lung? That means they'd be meant to work to fight his healing factor, a healing factor which is busy fighting off the venom you pumped him full of. Nice job on that!" I told her approvingly, slowly releasing my hold on the bugs around her, causing her to jump in surprise before looking back at me warily, moving them into position to swarm us, but holding back, as if they were waiting for an excuse. "It's honestly the best thing you could have done, and if you'd bought yourself a bit more time you wouldn't have needed the Undersider's help at all. However, that means that his healing factor has to decide between stopping the necrosis at the bite sites, or fight off the tranquilizers which will shut down his brain. The things your bugs bit? They're gonna rot."

Looking at the now sickened girl turning green, her minions buzzing in agitation, I waved at her to calm down. "Don't worry, Lung's power means it'll grow back. Hell, you could dig out his eyes and he'd only be blind for a fortnight." Ignoring Herb's cough, I plowed forward. "Thing is, you told him this. Not about the drug interaction, but that you'd filled him full of venom. Anyone who uses drugs to fight is responsible for what those drugs do, that's why you brought EpiPens after all, and you told him everything he needed to know. However, he wasn't focused on apprehending the dangerous mass murdering gang leader supervillain, he was focused on the glory it would get him, and how to get as much as possible, even if it meant screwing over a new independent hero. It's too late to warn him, the damage has already been done, but now instead of a flawless solo capture he's gonna look like a slightly out-of-control tinker who performed a vicious PR-unfriendly takedown. A true hero wouldn't have done it in the first place, an honest man would come clean about his deception and try to make it right. The leader of the local Protectorate? He's gonna blame you, and if, no, when he has the opportunity? He's going to screw you over, hard, possibly fatally if he can get away with it, for the crime of daring to make him look bad, when he was the one breaking his own rules and you were just trying to save what you thought were some kids from a horrific death. That's why if you want to be a hero, and you know in your heart you do, or let's be honest, Emma, Sophia, and Madison's houses would have a serious bug problem. Don't join the Protectorate, team with us instead."

Herb nodded. "That way, you'll be doing the right things for the right reasons, not what you think are the right reasons."

She blinked at him in confusion, still a bit overwhelmed from my appeal, as I quirked an eyebrow. "Okay dude, you're gonna need to explain that one."

He sighed. "Here's the thing. You're young, so young. You think you're gonna do the right things for the right reasons, and this is the only way you've got to do things, but honestly? It's because assholes keep pushing you in that wrong direction."

I pondered that for a second before nodding with a "Yeah, pretty much." Seeing her blank expression, I elucidated. "Taylor, and I'm calling you by your real name because you don't have a cape name yet, and the ones you do end up with aren't yours by choice, but things people give you, and they're all villainous, even when you're a hero working with the Protectorate." She gave a start at that, looking to Herb who nodded.

"What my villainously inclined friend means is that you're fairly reactive as a person, that you only tend to do things in response to other people's actions, which narrows your own options as you're always fighting them on a battlefield of their choosing." She opened her mouth to retort but I held up a hand, at this point, and especially unmasked, her reaction to social confrontations was to listen, and stew if attacked until she exploded. Her earlier outburst was because Herb had baited me into a Tattletale like 'I know something you don't know' kind of behavior. Her current reaction set would let me hit her with hard truths, but then explain them so that she was forced to listen in a way that her father never would. "The things you do, are going to do, are damn impressive, but they're always a direct escalation of the situation. Someone threatens you, you find a way to take them down and remove the threat. You think someone's hiding something, you pour your efforts into finding it out yourself so they can't hide it. You think you need something, you find a way to get it no matter what. It's an admirable trait, and one I have a bit of myself, but it leads to limiting yourself in a number of ways. Thing is, even with the Undersiders, your strength of character and drive, and yes, you have both in spades, leads to you co-opting the team as the new leader in all but name, but that also means that you never truly talk to anyone about your plans or views on what's going on, so you don't get different perspectives. We'd offer those perspectives, and help you when you need it, not only if maybe you ask in exactly the right way to not offend us or trigger our personal hang-ups, like most capes."

Herb nodded. "We'll support you. We'll not always be there one hundred percent because we both got shit that we need to do, but we'd expect the same from you, and we'll back you if you need it."

"Yeah, like the whole going undercover, gathering information, then turning them over to Armsmaster thing?" I asked. "Do you think he'd really honor any promises you, or even he made, to them or you? Or do you think he'd lie about it, like he lied, lies, and will lie about Lung, possibly claiming you were just a villain who helped him for leniency. That he'd lie that you've already given him your statement, so there's no need to talk to you, get you thrown in jail for being one of them, and take the glory of their capture for himself? All the while he'd tell himself he was doing the right thing by getting a troubled girl out of harm's way. By imprisoning her. You really want to know what he's like when he doesn't think he can get something from you? When he can't use you? Call him."

"Or offer to meet him somewhere he doesn't control." Herb suggested. "We'll be there, not doing anything, unless you need us to."

I gave a laugh, "That would actually work better, then you could get a read on him in person and he couldn't claim some BS like 'that wasn't me, I never said that, it must have been your friends who were manipulating you because they're all super evil and I am the sole paragon of law and goodness as long as you don't actually pay attention to anything I do!'" I finished in a fake voice.

She looked between the two of us. "Did you plan this?"

I shook my head. "Nah, our future knowledge gave us broad strokes with a focus on critical people and critical events. One of them is you. Another is the Undersiders. Another is their sociopathic boss, and there are more."

He nodded. "So, if you set up a meeting, tell us when and where, we're good but not that good, yet." He took out a card of his own, walking over and handing it to her "My card, for if you don't want to be hampered by all those pesky 'rules'"

"Says the villain," I retorted.

He rolled his eyes again. "I'll support you for the tough things."

"You're saying that like I won't," I commented.

"I'm saying it so I get first shot," he responded.

Rolling my eyes this time, I clarified. "If you want to be a hero, give me a call, a villain, him, but if you want to do the right things and help people, call either of us. We're both on the same team for a reason."

 

[PublicLee S.]

Development 2.x (Interlude: Chuck)

Trigger Warning: Extreme Racism. No one is the good guy here.

Charlie, Chuck to, well, everyone, wasn't sure if this was a dream, or if he was just really high. Wandering through the streets of the city that he wasn't sure was real, he hadn't thought that he'd taken anything, but he couldn't think of any other reason why he'd be here. His phone had no service, and it was early morning, so he figured he'd walk around and get his bearings. This city, apparently named 'Brockton Bay', had seen better days, and the name seemed familiar, but only enough that he felt like he was on the edge of a full on holy shit, brain expanding, déjà vu moment instead it actually giving him anything to work with.

He wandered toward the smell of the sea, since if there was anything interesting to see, it would probably be the place to be. The city woke up around him as he walked, the hustle and bustle of the people giving his surroundings a feeling of business they hadn't had when he'd arrived, stepping out of an alley with no memory of how he'd gotten there. He'd checked the alley twice, and all he'd found was a bad smell and more questions.

Reaching the shore, he sighed and looked along the boardwalk. Whelp, it was a boardwalk. Grabbing a newspaper someone had left on a table and moving to a café down the street he got some food, dipping into his reserve funds since he was pretty sure they wouldn't take his college cafeteria card. Reading it he was still not sure if he was high or dreaming, but he realized why this place sounded familiar. As he perused stories about superheroes, and the three gangs that were active in this city, he remembered his older brother talking about a story he'd wanted him to read. Something called Wyrm, though there was only, like, one dragon, and he wasn't the main character either. Thinking about it, he was leaning towards dream. He'd fallen asleep reading stuff and dreamed up plotlines before, like that time he'd been reading Animal Farm and the pigs had been overthrown by the two dogs they'd "educated" and turned the farm into an actual socialist Utopia. Man, he'd failed that book report hard.

A few hours later, some delicious waffles down, and with the waitress giving him hints that he should leave, he was definitely leaning towards dream, as he didn't think drug trips were supposed to last this long. Well, he thought they didn't, he hadn't actually ever done drugs, other than alcohol, which didn't really count. The paper had been cool though, and if the story was even half as cool as he'd dreamed it, he should probably read it. As he walked down the street, he figured that he could bargain with his brother that he'd read the story if his brother played the newest season of the Walking Dead, since none of his friends played it and he wanted someone to talk about it with.

Wandering around, he heard screams and looked down the Boardwalk to see that one of the shops was apparently on fire. Yeah, not my problem he decided, turning on his heel and walking away. He'd made it out of sight when he heard distant screaming, but a different kind of screaming, with what sounded like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. Looking behind him, he saw two guys, both jacked, running full tilt down the Boardwalk, one was black with a bright yellow jacket wrapped around his head, the other. . . he couldn't really tell. He was covered head to toe, a hood and mask obscuring everything but glowing rainbow eyes. God those look gay, he thought. Behind them an honest to god Dragon, slate grey and on fire, which ran on all fours to catch them, wingless, but with a long tail swinging back and forth that looked freaking lethal. The runners passed him on both sides, the covered one's eyes meeting his and opening in shock for a moment. The dragon charged straight for him, or at him, and he leaped to the side, somehow pulling himself into some kind of roll that cleared him of the monster as it pursued its prey, the heat from the flames like he'd stuck his head in an oven for a moment. Watching it chase those two, he shook his head. Better them than me.



Having wandered away from the dragon, he'd taken a few turns towards what looked like downtown, really, away from the dragon and the cops that would eventually show up is all he wanted, and was now just meandering. He'd started down an alley, of the non-stinky variety, and there were three Asian guys hanging out in it. He'd given them a nod and passed by, stopping when he heard a ringing click down the corridor. Slowly turning around, he saw that one of them had an honest to god submachine gun that he'd pulled from. . . somewhere. "You, Gaijin, give me you money fool!" the guy with the gun demanded.

"Um, why?" he asked, not really sure how he should respond in this situation.

"Are you high round eye?" the mugger asked, walking up to him and pointing the gun at his head. "Because I'll fill you pasty head full of lead if you don't."

He stared at the guy in disbelief, finally noticing that all three of the them were wearing the same color scheme. The Asian themed gang? He thought. But it's broad fucking daylight! Who mugs people in the middle of the day when there's cops and shit everywhere? Yeah, this is a dream, which means worst case, I'll just wake up. He'd had lucid dreams before, though they were rare. They were always really fun though, since he could do whatever he wanted and it didn't matter, since none of it was real. It was like video games on crack, and he remembered them fondly. Well, kinda, in that half-memory thing that dreams did. If he was just in an unfamiliar city, sure, it might be real, but one with glowy-eyed people and dragons? Definitely a dream. He started giggling, which descended into full guffaws, this was gonna be awesome.

One of the other gang members shifted uncomfortably, looking at the guy they were mugging laughing uproariously with a gun pointed at his head. "Is he high or something?"

The other thug glared at the laughing teen. "Maybe he's a Merchant, they're always fucking high. Hey Bai Tou, give us your money and your drugs, then get your ass back to Archer's Bridge!"

He stopped laughing, petering out quickly, looking down in thought. I don't even know what that meant but it sounded racist. How does that work? And Merchants? Wait, if there's drugs in this dream, I should take them! "Hey big nose!" the SMG wielding thug yelled, poking him in the face with the barrel of his weapon. "Pay attention to me when I've got a weapon in your face, or I'll blow it off!"

Again with the racism? He mused. Actually, fuck it, if racism is the way you want to go, let's play! Calming himself down, but unable to repress a smirk, he made a show of looking at the gun. "Hmm, that's a big gun," he started, pausing for a second for the thug to start to say something gloating before adding, "compensating for something, eh?"

The thug looked flabbergasted before his face turned into a snarl as he started to shout "For that y-" obviously about to pull the trigger.

The gunman never got the chance as Chuck brought his hand up, knocking the SMG to the side right before it was shot, the quick burst of bullets going wild, hitting the wall to the left, one hitting a trash can as he took a step inside the thug's firing arc, yelling "Golden Rule Yellow Man! I'm mugging you now!" as he punched the gangbanger straight in the face, nose crunching viscerally under the impact. One down in a spurt of blood, the other two froze before one whipped out a knife and slashed at him. He took a step back, slapping the knife out of the thug's hand, stepping forward and rising in an uppercut, using his full six foot five inch frame to lift the smaller man off his feet, letting his height compensate for honestly sub-par strength, pairing it with a taunt of "Where's your Sun Tzu now, Bitch!"

"Fuck? You a cape?" the last one asked, fumbling for a pistol.

Chuck spun with a hammer fist to the last one's temple, downing him as well. "No," he said to the now unconscious gangbangers. "I just know kung fu!" Looking around he realized that no one in the alley could hear his awesome one-liner. "Dammnit!"

He relieved the thugs of their weapons and money, after all, on top of being a great taunt, he was just following the golden rule, and these thugs obviously wanted to be robbed because of their skin color. Looking at them though, it didn't seem like enough. He walked out of the alley, the street had only a few people on it, all glancing at him before hurrying on their way. Striding confidently over to a corner store, he bought a permanent marker and returned to the racist thugs, the cashier oddly jumpy. He stripped them, tying their clothing together in a rope which he used to bind them all to each other, and to a dumpster. With the sharpie, he considered what would be appropriately racist before shrugging and just writing on them every horrible thing he could think of like "I don't know Kung-fu", "Slanting eyes slant my aim", and "Both my weapons are 9mm" which he was pretty sure wasn't physically possible. Looking at what he'd done he had to laugh. This was such a hate crime it shouldn't even be funny, but fuck it, they were racist assholes and this was a dream, so none of it mattered anyways.

Using one of their phones he took a few pictures, creating an email account to send the pictures to, taking the address "BadBoySlayer888". He'd thought of 666, but that was way too edgy teen, 777 was kinda angelic, and what he was doing wasn't, so 888 it was. Dropping their phones and wallets next to them, without their cash, he wasn't going to be a complete jerk and make them get new licenses and stuff, he took off, asking a food-cart vendor where "Archer's Bridge" was as he ordered lunch.



Several hours later he headed back downtown, having jumped two groups of "Merchants", and almost jumped some drug addicts who weren't bothering anyone, who'd forgiven him when he'd given them some free drugs he'd taken from the first group, which was only fair. He was looking for a nice hotel to crash at and check out his new purchases. It had surprised him how easy the gang members were to beat up, he'd sparred with his brother, who was way better than he was, but now all the moves and advice just clicked, and the idiots he'd taken down were moving so slow. He figured it was just the dream helping, since he wanted to be a better fighter, so he was. Wanting to fly and shoot lasers from his eyes had, sadly, not helped at all. So, wearing a backpack containing his new pre-paid phone, laptop, and mp3 player, several "confiscated" weapons, and a whole lotta of drugs, he looked for a swanky place to crash. Two places had turned him away at the door, though given the fact that his clothing was bit bloodstained, even if none of it was his own, he couldn't really blame them.

The third place however, the doorman actually looked approving and let him in. The guy at the desk didn't even bat an eye, only asking how long he wanted to stay. A thousand dollars for a night seemed like a lot, but hey, it was fancy, and the way the guy was specific about no violence on the hotel's grounds was a bit odd, but he didn't really care. Apparently, there were services that were available for free, or a bit more money with a list in each room, which might explain the cost.

Once he'd settled in, having an artisanal pizza sent up for him to eat while he unpacked, he got the laptop online and set it up. If he was in a dream world, then that should mean if he signed into Steam, he should be able to play dream games as well, which would be awesome. The pizza arrived and he finished the setup, immediately searching for Valve's gaming service. To his shock and horror, it didn't seem to exist, neither did GOG or even Humble. The only one he could find, was Origin. "I thought this was a dream!" he yelled dramatically to the sky, knowing he was being ridiculous, "But it's a nightmare!"

He tried finding some to download directly, only to come to the conclusion that most of his favorite games didn't exist. CK2? Nope. Hotline Miami? It was a band, and not a good one. Shrouded Isle? The search engine directed him to the game Myst. He flopped down on his bed in childish despair, before looking over at the pile of weapons and drugs he'd unpacked. Hmm he thought. If I couldn't play the game, why not live it? This dream was a bit more resistant to manipulation than the other lucid dreams he'd had before, but maybe it was because he was in an established setting already? Either way, he was gonna have some fun.

Mind made up he uploaded the photos he'd taken on a photo sharing website with an account of the same name, giving the photos names like "Worst part of beating up ABB, you're bloodthirsty again in an hour" and "Made in China, Beat in America". It was so over the top and offensively racist, he had to laugh. The best part about dreams is that you got to be someone completely different from who you were, like acting in a play or playing a roleplaying game. That done he loaded the appropriate music on his MP3 player, grabbed his wallet, phone, and a revolver, took two handfuls of shrooms and pills, consuming one of them right there, and headed out into the night. He shopped for the appropriate gear, appreciating how the colors of everything slipped and blurred into each other, the night bright and exciting in a way it'd never be in real life, and while he couldn't find the exact one he wanted, he acquired a white and red letterman jacket, along with a rooster mask from one of those year-round Halloween stores. From there it was a matter of time to wander around the slums and near the Boardwalk until he found some ABB thugs.

Jumping them was easy, and a bit of enhanced interrogation got the location of their nearest operation, a combo drug den/brothel, along with the password. It only took threatening to blow off the thug's fingers to get the actual password as well, "may-oo", whatever that meant, though wasn't that a white thing? Good password though, he'd never have guessed it. So, after knocking them out and taking their money, he left them with only minor flesh wounds, everything fairly intact, though that one guy he'd stuffed in a trash can would be feeling it when he came to.

Popping back to the costume supply store he picked up a panda mask and a compliment on the 'realistic' bloodstains, along with a couple of duffel bags. Walking calmly to the location of the brothel, he adjusted his cell phone in his breast pocket, setting the camera so it would record what he did, and took a deep breathe before he knocked and gave the password. The guy who opened the door was armed, and had a look of shocked surprise seeing a man in a bloodstained letterman jacket and panda mask, but quickly raised his gun to fire. The door guard was knocked inside as Chuck kicked him in the chest, following him and taking him out with a double tap to the head and heart as he yelled "Who's endangered now bitch!"

Inside another thug sat, watching dumbly before bringing up a shotgun. He got a two-shot combo as well as his killer informed him "Ling-Ling says hello!" Taking a moment to check if more were coming, he reloaded his revolver, pocketing the brass, and taking the pistol and shotgun from the two dead thugs. Damn my imagination is vivid he told himself as he stripped the two dead bodies of their valuables, a bit shocked at how life-like the bodies looked, getting a little queasy as he looked at the shredded remains of what once was a face, though that might have been the drugs. Screw it, this is a dream, he told himself, looking away, psyching himself up, it doesn't really matter, 'cause it's not real!

With that, he grabbed some more drugs, chowed down, and set the mp3 player to blast the most racist song he could find, "Love me long time" by some rapper named Dizaster on repeat. He stood there, listening and couldn't help but laugh as it played, the world pulsing a bit in time. It was so over the top racist that he felt bad just listening to it, but it fit what he was doing so well. With that in mind, he opened the next door, giggling to himself, and proceeded inside to kill every motherfucker in there.



Walking back, masks stuffed in his now full duffle bags, he grinned, flush with victory, adrenalin, and soooooo many drugs. That had gone better than he'd thought. There'd been quite a few gangbangers inside, but he'd caught them with their pants down. He chuckled, literally in some cases. Sweeping through like an endangered specter of death he'd scythed through them with almost no problem. That one guy had known kung-fu, and had started kicking his ass, but the revolver in his pocket had stunned the fighter long enough for him to use one of his pilfered pistols to take him down. If you weren't supposed to bring a knife to a gun fight, this moron hadn't even done that! What was black and white and red all over? Him! Laughing he shook his head, he wished he'd thought of that one while he was doing the run. The laughter trailed off. He was sad he had to kill that one whore though. Most of them were happy to escape, some running immediately once they realized the guards were dead, a few stripping the bodies of their rapists before leaving, which he couldn't blame. One bitch though had started yelling at him in Chinese, or Japanese, or maybe Korean. He didn't speak. . . what was the super racist way of talking about Asian languages? He couldn't remember. Either way, she was yelling at him in a language he didn't know and had rushed him with a knife so he'd shot her. He hadn't meant to kill her, just wing her, but she tried to dodge his shoulder shot, and took it in the chest instead. Heart, if he had to guess, from when he'd tried to give her first aid, but she was already dead. Either way, there was no need for her to be nasty about it.

His job done he'd found one of their computers, which hadn't even been locked, and uploaded his video before sending all the documents he could find to the cops. The combo to the safe had been on the computer, so he'd opened that sucker up, filled it with cash, and left. A few ABB idiots had tried to jump him on his way out, so those fuckers were dead, though he was so surprised he hadn't thought of any dope one-liners, so it wasn't an A+ victory, maybe like A-. Or B+. Definitely better than a C.

He wandered back to the hotel, the front desk guy, not batting an eye at his appearance. The. . . Concierge! That was it. That guy pointed out he was bleeding, which he hadn't even noticed, and said he'd send up the hotel Doctor. Sure enough, a few minutes after he'd reached his room, there was a knock and an elderly black man with a doctor's bag came in.

The doctor tsk'd as he viewed the damage. "Busy Night?"

Chuck shrugged, feeling no pain. "Kinda, sometimes you have to make your own fun, ya'know?"

The man directed him to sit on the bed, before kneeling down and examining the knife and gunshot wounds. "None of these look life threatening, luckily. Have you taken anything today and when?"

He gestured towards the drugs. "A handful of drugs and pills, maybe three hours ago? Then another, maybe an hour ago?"

The Doctor looked over, poking the hodge-podge pile. "Depending on the mix it's either no wonder you're still on your feet, or a wonder you made it out the door. I'll give an addiction suppressor and some antibiotics after I'm done," The doctor responded, getting to work suturing wounds, extracting bullets, and doing everything doctors did. It was interesting to watch when you didn't really feel anything. Pulling out a couple of syringes the Doctor gave him a stern glare. "This will make you feel worse in the morning, but stop any new addictions from forming. Do you want it?" Chuck shrugged. It wouldn't really matter, since he was going to wake up back home after he "Went to sleep", so he didn't see why not.

When the Doctor finished, advising that he see someone in a few days to repack the wounds, Chuck tipped him an extra thousand, which was greatly appreciated. Lying down he couldn't help but think Good dream Chuck, back to classes when I wake up but it was nice to blow off steam where I didn't have to ask everyone their freakin' pronouns as he fell asleep.



He awoke in agony, fire lacing through his guts. He rolled over to get out of his dorm bed, only for his legs to hit more bed, quaking in spasms of pain. Opening his eyes against the too-bright sun he saw he was in a very nice room, drugs and guns piled up, along with three duffle bags of cash in the corner. What the hell? He thought as he looked around, seeing the painkillers the doctor had left and using the glass of water next to them to take them. Why haven't I woken up yet? And why does it hurt? Dreams don't hurt!

He staggered over to the desk, legs barely able to support him as he turned on the computer, the browser automatically opening to a news site, detailing an attack by Lung on the E88 and a retaliatory strike on an ABB safehouse that looked very familiar. Wait. He thought, dread surging in his gut, twisting his wounds in shapes of suffering, the pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before. What if this isn't a dream. What if I'm, I don't know, in an alternate dimension or something? That would mean I. Mean I!

He ran for the bathroom, stumbling, falling, and made it in time to be sick, whether it be from the pain, the drugs, what he had said, what he had done, that he'd fucking KILLED PEOPLE, or some combination of all that, vomiting until there was nothing left, then vomited some more. After an hour he struggled to his feet, feeling only marginally better, though whether that was from drugs or from vomiting he wasn't sure. Shakily, he returned to his bed and laid down, trying not to aggravate his injuries as he considered his situation.

So, the Merchants might want to kill me for mugging them, the ABB definitely wants to kill me for sooo many reasons, that means I need to stay out of their territory. Looking online he saw that Downtown, while not really any gang's territory, had all of them pass through from time to time. Okay, that means I need to go somewhere they won't go that means. . . shit I'm going to have to head towards the fucking Neo-Nazis. I hate those assholes. He didn't want to, but it was his only choice. He'd get a place there and lie low until he could find out what the hell was going on. Those assholes were just like Pikmin; dumb, easily lead, and cared way too much about skin color, but they'd serve to keep his ass from becoming dragon-chow.

Destination in mind he gathered up his spoils, grabbed some new clothing from the closet, putting the letterman jacket in his backpack along with the masks, since they definitely would be evidence, and got the hell out of there. Checking out, he heading for what the map had called "South Imperial", deep in the Neo Nazi Territory.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.1

We left Taylor in the dark alley, swarm curling around her protectively, both of us flying off as I kept a hand on Herb's collar. "Well, that went well," I commented as we soared through the night.

"Yeah," He nodded, thoughtful, bombastic persona turned down now that it was just us. "Any other plans?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I want to work a bit on my air control, I think it might help with flight control, or maybe help divert bullets like Stormtiger can, but I need fine enough control that I can make it subtle enough to not register as a power if people see, and I need to look over what our base has. Have you read the manual?"

"There's a manual?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah," I responded, confused. Was there a quick guide he'd been using instead? "it's the word document on the desktop of the base computer that says 'Read This First'!"

"Oh, that, yeah, it's like over a thousand pages long! You can't expect me to read that!" he complained.

I considered dropping him, just for a moment. "You can't be bothered to read the manual for your secret villain base? Are you serious?"

"You'll read it, that's good enough," he waved at me.

"Ha. Ha. No." I flatly responded. "I'm not telling you what's inside, you can read it for yourself. We don't have anything to do until she calls us, or the bank heist in three days." I landed, and strode forward. He fumbled for his phone, trying to look up the code, while I commanded "Vejovis, Unlock." The voice lock and facial scan recognized me and opened, letting us in.

"Wait, you can do that?" he asked, impressed.

"Yeah, it's in the manual." I retorted.

He tried to give me puppy dog eyes, but they didn't really work coming from a jacked six foot tall black man. "Oh come on, can-"

He was cut off as a pure black fist punched him straight in the face. "That's for making me gay asshole! I don't kiss guys! I'm gonna go punch some people!" Boojack announced, stomping out.

"Merchants are near the docks, they probably have weed!" I called out after him, laughing as I reached down and picked Herb up, healing his broken nose.

"He hit me!" Herb informed me, shocked.

"You did kiss him," I reminded, still laughing. "And he doesn't think the pretending to be gay thing is nearly as funny as you do."

He sputtered. "But, but, he's me, kinda."

Rolling my eyes, I headed to my room to drop off my railgun prototype. "Oh, now he's you. Read the manual, I'm gonna go practice."



Starting with thrown stones and working my way up, I spent the night alternating between practicing my Aerokinesis and working on the base manual, having downloaded a copy to the smartphone I got from the base. The air claws that I'd seen him used were fixed in my memory, a mental prompt that said 'press this to claw!' but they gave only straight use, not the skill behind it, nor did it allow me to modify them, making them larger, weaker, on anything else. I knew the underlying concepts, but it was like having a grounding in physics and being asked to build a car. Any other use of the power I had to build from scratch, including the claws if I wanted to do more than ape Stormtiger. Moving breezes was easy enough, but it took a bit more to move objects. Doing do without blasting wind everywhere was even harder, but after a few hours I got the hang of it. From there, tossing rocks and altering their flight path was the next step in difficulty. I was making progress, but it was slow, and not nearly as straightforward as reading the manual. I figured out how to turn on the security cameras and a few other features around the base, running them through my new phone which, like my old one, was still at 100% charge when I took it out of my pocket, recharging whenever I put it back. Trying to find a connection for my old phone was proving difficult, as the exact micro-usb connection it used didn't match anything I could find online.

Boojack stomped back in a few hours later, bloody with a few scratches. He borrowed my Disease Immunity, and I closed up his cuts before making him something to eat and sending him off to bed, animosity forgotten.

It was another few hours before the sun rose, and I could start working on my other plans. First thing I needed was a lawyer, and fast if I was going to keep ahead of those that would use the law against me. Growing up I considered being a Lawyer, thinking that they were bastions of Law and Fairness, given that they had law right in the name. I found out instead they were that jerk who only bothered to remember the rules when it helped them, and would let blatant violations of the law go without a word if it would advance their desires. That, combined with the fact that most judges were previously lawyers themselves turned me off of the profession entirely. However, just like you needed a security guard to fend off vandals who might be similarly armed, I needed one to assist me. With the emails sent off to various firms, and a hot breakfast waiting for Herb when he came out of the shower, I turned towards tracking down my errant father.

I knew he was a rogue in the city, which made finding him trivially easy. In canon there was exactly one rogue, a cape who didn't join in the massive game of cops and robbers that most played at while they destroyed people's lives. That was Parian, who had cloth control, or something else that seemed like it since the author had been oddly cagey about it. That meant when I checked online and there were two rogues in Brockton Bay, it was stunningly obvious who my father was. He had apparently become "The Neutral Party", a thinker who specialized in negotiations and had been checked several times for mind control powers, all tests turning up negative.

I frowned as I looked at the screen. I didn't remember exactly what dad's powers were, but I was pretty sure that "Super Negotiation" wasn't one of them. I typed up an e-mail, as Vejovis, taking an hour to phrase it so the first letter on each line spelled out my name as a clue, and sent it to his official e-mail. He had no listed phone number or address, or really anything to tell you where he was. While that was frustrating on my end, I could kinda see why, as having a master negotiator working for you would be the type of thing the E88 would love, let alone some of the major players from other cities, like Accord in Boston, the Thinker specializing in planning.

I considered setting up a meeting with Parian to get Taylor a better-looking costume, but decided to hold off on doing it until she officially joined the team, and went back to play with projectiles while reading the manual. After an hour of diminishing returns I tried to take a different track to see how my technique was progressing so started filming the rocks with my phone and reviewing after every third attempt. After a bit I nearly smacked myself in the head in frustrated realization. We were going to go meet Armsdick later today, and part of his intimidation shtick was the whole "I'm recording this" thing, with which, to be honest, probably highly selective editing. What we needed to do was have equipment to film things, so that when, not if, things went bad, we had video proof that it was the heroes being the aggressors! Mind made up, I headed out to add even more debt to our account as I left in my civvies to go pick up some easy to place cameras.

Stepping out the door, the phone I'd set up with my Vejovis phone rang, picking it up I didn't recognize the number so started with "Vejovis of the Penumbral Defenders speaking, how may I save your day today?" Okay, saying it out loud, it wasn't nearly as cool as it had been in my head.

"This is Amy?" came the reply, more question than statement. "Vicky gave me your number."

"Amy?" I asked confused. Who the hell was Amy? Oh! "Hello Panacea, you sound better. Did your mother tell you what happened?" I inquired, voice warming.

"No, but Vicky did," she responded quickly. "And I saw the video."

Once again, I had a moment of confusion. "What video?" I asked after a moment, walking back inside and pulling open a computer.

"The video of what happened in the cafeteria. You didn't post it?"

Opening up a browser on one of the base's laptops and hitting the bookmark labelled 'News' I was brought to page detailing several stories, one with a picture of me in profile in the hospital cafeteria. "Oh, right, the people who were taping the thing at the hospital. I kinda forgot about them to be honest, I was more concerned with getting you home."

There was silence on the other end of the line before she came back with "But you said you were going to go to the news!"

"Just to get him to back off. I had plans that evening and it slipped my mind," I explained. "Probably should have done it though," I mused. "A quote from me would have made the entire thing much more damning."

"That's not very heroic," she responded, sounding hurt.

"What?" I retorted. "You mean your family never gives public statements? 'cause I'm pretty sure they do."

"But not to hurt anyone! You would have been doing it out of spite, that's different!" she tried.

I laughed. "Ha, yeah, no. Doing something out of spite assumes I care, and I really don't about that hospital. What they were doing was blatantly illegal, and I'd just be giving a report on what happened when I interceded in what was obviously a crime." I heard her take a breath to retort and realized what I was doing. Shards push people to conflict Lee, you can't respond in kind when capes get combative or it'll turn into a feedback loop. "Panacea, what they were doing was not okay," I told her softly, cutting her off before she could defend the people that wronged her because of her warped ideas of heroism. "Think about it this way, you know how the hospital uses machines like X-rays and MRI's?" I waited for her response, a terse mm-hmm. "Do they use them constantly, over and over again with no time for cooling down or maintenance? Or do they use them in a way that will let the machine continue running for as long as it can? They weren't allowing you to even take breaks, using you over and over again with no care for how you were holding up. There were other issues there, but let's just focus on that one, because it's enough. They weren't treating you with as much care as they treat inanimate objects, and if other people exposed what they did, then good on them."

I sighed, might as well attack this from a different angle. "Think about it this way Panacea, what if Glory Girl was out doing patrols with the Wards and the Protectorate, but after each patrol they'd switch out the team and tell her that if she was a real hero, she wouldn't stop while there might be people out there that could use her help, that might get hurt if she selfishly takes a break. And so she goes on another patrol, then another, then another. The sun sets, she's still going, still trying to save everyone, and as the Protectorate teams switch out, each new one pushes her to keep going, to the point where she's finding it hard to fly straight but they keep telling her there are people who need her so she does it anyways. And then she's paired up with a new team after the sun rises and say, Battery notices how she's flagging, only to realize that she's been doing this for over twelve hours straight, and when Glory Girl falls asleep in the meeting room and Battery rightly goes 'What the hell? someone call her contact, she needs to go home!' Director Piggot says, 'No, leave her here, and if you say anything we're kicking you out!' Battery then goes 'Screw this, I'm doing it anyways!' Would you say that's unheroic behavior on Battery's part, or would you look at all those who either forced her to keep going on patrol, or saw it happen and did nothing, and look at them and go 'What you are doing is not ok!'"

Again, silence. "But Vicky would just tell them she doesn't answer to them, and the Protectorate wouldn't do that anyways!" was her eventual repost.

I sighed again, repressing a growl of frustration. This wasn't ignorance, this was willful blindness of the truth, to the point of pointless martyrdom. "I know that, but we're talking hypotheticals. You say that my amusement at the hospital's horrible treatment of you coming to light is unheroic, I'd say their treatment of you is downright villainous. And not the semi-harmless Uber and L33t kind, the ongoing, systematic, screw you up horribly E88 or ABB kind. The fact that they were helping people while hurting you by treating you badly doesn't excuse their behavior, anymore than Kaiser helping out his community at the cost of persecuting minorities excuses his. Part of being a Hero is helping other people, and if you have to inconvenience yourself to do so, well that makes the sacrifice worth it, but after a certain point you get diminishing returns. Do other doctors regularly pull over twelve hour shifts without breaks, only to be expected to pull another one immediately afterwards? The Doctor assigned to help us spent most of his time texting his girlfriend when he could have been working to save lives, and he was getting paid to do it. Your power makes it easier to help a lot more people, but he had the power and training to help people as well, even if not as effectively, was getting paid to do it, and wasn't. What does that make him?"

I waited for a response, but only received silence. I had the distinct feeling this conversation would have gone more smoothly if I could've seen her face to read her reactions. "I'm not saying don't help people Panacea, I'm a Hero, I'm all about that. I'm saying don't assume those around you are always as good as you are. A lot aren't, and treating them as if they are will get you in trouble. I learned a lot about how to use my power to heal more than just cuts and bruises from you, even if you were dead tired, and the next time you go to help heal people I'd like to be able to help you and learn from you. Just, don't go somewhere where they'll treat you badly. Seeing a fellow hero be abused by those with evil in their hearts, even if they're not capes, is one of my pet peeves. I'm still new in town, and new to this hero-ing thing in general, so would it be okay if I called you later if I need help?" I finished.

"Um," was her erudite reply. "I'm. Yes, if you need help, you can call. I might be busy, I'm still in school." She finished, almost apologetically. Ugh I thought. Get off the cross honey, someone needs the wood.

"Are you calling me from your cell phone?" I asked gently, trying not to set off another bit of self-doubt.

"Yes," she rallied. "Yes, this is my cell phone, and Vicky's number-"

"I don't need her number" I told her, cutting her off. "If I need help, you're the one I want to call."

"Oh, um. Okay? Are you sure? It's just that-" she tried, obviously off-balance.

"I'm sure. Have a good day Panacea." I told her, hanging up after her response of "You too."

I walked out, a spring in my step and my plans in motion. Now I needed to get my hands on some cameras.


It was almost 2:30 in the afternoon when I finally got a call from Taylor. "This Is Vejovis of the Penumbral Defenders, what needs saving?" Nope, that didn't work either.

"Um, this is, um Taylor?" she half asked. "You and the other guy asked me to tell you about the meeting."

"Right Taylor, still working on the phone thing. When, where, how do you want us to play this, and how visible do you want us to be?" There was silence on the other end of the line. "Taylor?"

"Um, right, sorry, didn't expect you to ask me that," she responded. "You seemed you like you had a plan yesterday. Well, some of one."

"This is your Op, where just there to make sure you're okay," I informed her confidently. "If you want to go with the 'I've got a team backing me up now' thing we can be right there with you. If you want him to think you're being scouted we can be barely visible, and if you want him to treat you as the lone hero you were when you first met we can be out of sight, but ready to respond if things go bad."

"Wow, okay," was her response, a moment later finishing with "the last one. If he's as bad as you say, and he sounded angry on the phone, he might be different if you're there." Might? I thought, but held my tongue.

She gave me an address near where the southern docks turned into downtown, and promised me she'd be there at least 20 minutes early, accepting my suggestion to meet somewhere other than where she was meeting Armsmaster in case he was setting up a trap, though she was pretty sure he wouldn't do that.

Rousing Herb form his surfing, or whatever he was doing on the computer, and suiting up, the two of us flew, or to be more specific I carried us, to the secondary meeting sight, cameras taking up half of my belt pouches. I had purchased ones with low EM emissions, so his gear hopefully wouldn't spot them against the low-level interference of the city. Meeting Taylor, she was pacing up and down an alley, obviously nervous as the sound of bugs were a constant low-level buzz in the background.

"My dear, so good to see you!" Herb called magnanimously, causing her to jump. As she turned around I realized my bug powers weren't online, so she hadn't been able to sense me. Bringing it up and feeling the bugs she'd accrued in the alley I raised an eyebrow, about to comment when she beat me to it.

"How do you do that?" she asked, just short of demanding. "It's like you didn't exist until you did!"

I gave a Gaelic shrug. "I have ways of relaxing my control on my powers that you apparently don't."

"Could I learn?" she asked hopefully. Her desire to learn new ways of using her power was so blatant and earnest it was almost painful, and I was glad she'd met us, instead of someone who'd take advantage of that. "It's just, sometimes I see things I don't really want to."

Herb shook his head. "I understand why you would wish that my dear, but the more you use your power the more it will grow. You don't have my friend's other gifts, so you need to develop yours to the fullest."

I nodded. "Pretty sure it wouldn't work for you, since you only have the one power."

"How do you know I don't- right. Future knowledge."

I didn't bother correcting her. "So, you're going to go and talk to Mini-Man and sell the entire infiltrating the Undersiders thing, while we hang back and play support." I reached into my belt pouch, taking the comm units I'd found in the base, tossing one to Herb while passing another to Taylor before putting the third in my ear. "This'll keep us in touch."

"Mini-Man?" Herb asked, taking off his mask to put in the earbud, missing Taylor's surprised glance at his casual unmasking.

"He's a tinker specializing in miniaturization of tech, it fits." I defended, my domino mask letting me put mine in without a problem.

He laughed. "So the halberd, you think he's compensating for something?"

Taylor made a disgusted face as she put her mask back on. "That's gross," she commented, her voice coming in through the comms.

I rolled my eyes as I shrugged. "I don't know, nor do I want to. Now where's your meeting place?"

She led us down a few alleys to a deserted lot far away from the mid-afternoon traffic. "Here, it's out of the way enough we shouldn't be seen."

Herb visibly winced as I started setting up cameras. "What?" she asked. "And what are those?"

"Not being seen, means more likely not to get caught doing something bad darling," Herb informed her. "Armsmaster's more likely to start shit where people can't see him and ruin his image."

"And I'm making sure we have video proof," I added, putting a camera in a pile of non-bio trash and moving it to hide it while keeping the view. "So that it's not established hero's word vs. unknown creepy bug girl's. It's established hero's word vs video evidence."

"Wait, you think?" she asked, trailing off.

"That he'd lie?" Herb asked. "Undoubtable."

"No, well yes, but that I'm creepy?" she asked, looking down at her costume, self-consciousness screaming from her posture. Well, as much as her body language ever showed anything when she was masked. I really needed to help her work with that. Once we got her to be consciously expressive, it wasn't that hard to learn how to physically express things you didn't feel to throw people off.

"Us? No," I reassured her, Herb nodding in agreement. "But someone seeking to discredit you, who didn't know you? Yeah, your current costume is a bit off-putting. It's secretive and stealthy, great for ops, but intimidating, which might have been the point, but there's things that can be done to off set that."

Herb nodded sagely. "Definitely girl, we got plans."

Her body language, muted as it was, spoke of confusion, so I told her. "Cameras are set, well be the next street over. You've got this, but if you need help, just call. If your comm goes dark we'll assume he's done something and jump in." She nodded back to us as Herb gave her a thumbs up and we retreated to a nearby alley to listen in, moving the trash cans to better hid us from the street as we laid in wait.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.2

Armsdick was almost five minutes late, of course, and we were safely sequestered in a nearby alley as his motorcycle pulled into the empty lot. I'd tapped into a few beetles and placed them to get a better, if still blurry, view of what was going on.

"Damn, I wish we could see this. It's gonna be good." Herb laughed.

I shook my head. "Can't risk him spotting them if they're broadcasting. Listening to Taylor will have to do. Also, Taylor, don't respond to us. He might be able to pick up your responses."

I saw her start to nod before catching herself, luckily it looked like Armsdick had turned his back so he didn't notice.

He strode over, halberd in hand, stopping a good ten feet away from her. "You said you wanted to meet and talk. Talk," he commanded, voice thick with annoyance, sounding like he was doing her a favor she didn't deserve.

"He's not gonna tell her he's recording this?" Herb asked.

"No, makes more of a psychological impact to tell them after they've been talking so they have to go back and make sure they haven't said anything damning. It's one of those good one-off tactics that completely poisons any further interaction for a win in the moment. Classic Armsmaster." I responded. Taylor stiffened at this, "You need to respond to his question," I told her, as Armsmaster said "Well?" impatiently.

"I've," she started, finding her feet. "The Undersiders sent me a message. They want to talk, and I think they want to recruit me. I was thinking that I could join them, find out about them, then turn the info over to the Protectorate." I winced. If she'd said turn it over to him he might've gone with it but now. "They've men-"

"Absolutely not," he responded gruffly. "You're irresponsibility has been proven, and you couldn't be trusted with something as difficult as-"

"Wait, what irresponsibility?" she interrupted, outraged, her voice a little saddened. I felt for her, it was one thing to be told your heroes weren't, but it was entire different thing to see it for yourself. "I took down Lung with just a little help!"

"Don't interrupt!" he admonished.

"Didn't he interrupt her first?" Herb asked, smiling.

"Yeah, but he's both an adult and knows better," I responded, "the hypocrite." I listened to hear what Armsdick was telling her, my bugs seeing he'd taken a few steps closer, looming over her. Real mature I thought, physically intimidate the girl who asked for help. God I hate the Protectorate.

"Your reckless use of your powers nearly killed Lung, if I hadn't gotten him medical help you could have killed him, and there'd be an order out for your arrest!" He told her, betraying nothing of the whopper of a lie he'd just dropped. Not necessarily a lie as some would understand, it, but a willful misinterpretation of the truth. If I hadn't told Taylor, she'd probably be on the back foot, but we'd nixed that play already.

"Why did that happen?" Taylor asked, knowing why but laying a trap to see if he'd hang himself, given enough rope, "He was fine when you got to him!" The hurt in her voice could have easily been worry, and Mini-Man obliged.

"Are you trained in parahuman toxicology?" He asked, like he was, and like that even mattered to the argument, though the response of 'no' would have given him an opening, which Taylor didn't take, forcing him to press with an "Are you?"

"Are you?" Taylor shot back. Herb high-fived me as we listened.

"You are responsible for the effects of your powers, even if they look 'fine'!" He retorted, getting more upset, trying to take the position of the superior rightfully stripping down one of his charges. Mind you, he wasn't doing anything else that a superior officer was supposed to do, just the things he

Herb frowned. "He ducked the fucking question, right?"

"Yep, and he's pretending like he didn't do anything either, probably hoping she'll forget about the tranq," I responded.

Taylor gave a start, probably having done just that. "Wait, what about the tranquilizer you gave him, maybe it was that?"

He crossed his arms, and if the tilt of his head was correct, he was literally looking down his nose at her. "My tranquilizer was specially designed for his biology and checked by experts. Your venom is what rotted his flesh." Like that was it, the infallible word of god.

Taylor though, was all over that. "So it was designed for him healthy? I told you I had my spiders bite him, you knew he was poisoned! You knew that would've thrown it off if you're an expert on parahuman toxicology!" she finished, throwing his assumed title back in his face.

"Point, Taylor," I grinned, looking over at Herb, who was shaking his head. "What? She's Right!"

"Nah, she backed him down," he told both of us, Enter manifesting behind him, a vicious smile on its crocodile face, at odds to Herb's worried expression. "He's gettin' ready to fight!"

"If it wasn't for your reckless use of powers that wouldn't have been a problem!" He practically roared.

She flinched backwards, swarm massing behind her. I tapped into my bug control and tried to send her feelings of support and confidence, not sure if it helped. "He said he was gonna kill kids!" She shot back, just as heated, but controlled in volume.

Armsdick snorted, contempt dripping from his tone. "He was going after villains, and now you want to run off and join them. Tell yourself that you're doing it to help people, but that's not going to happen. I have software in my helmet that tells me when people lie. I should arrest you right now, assuming the people you poisoned last night haven't died, then it might be the Birdcage."

I could feel her emotions, the self-doubt, the panic, the overwhelming fear as she stood her ground, not speaking, but not running like she felt like she should with every fiber of her being. Yes, I thought. This strength, this is why I'm recruiting her. "He's lying," Herb said. "Fucktard!"

"Worse, he's making unrelated misleadingly-true statements," I overruled. "He has software that does that, but it's not perfect, especially with you, and he can't be held accountable for any future predictions. He's leaving out all the context to make even a selfless and heroic act sound cowardly, it's not that hard a game, and one easily uncovered if you know what he's talking about. Taylor, he's trying to make you scared. He wants you to panic so he can take you down, so he can hurt you, and then make up a stupid story to tell the authorities, who like him, so they'll believe him over some nobody they don't care about without a second thought, without checking to see if it's true, just punishing people because he said so, just like Emma." I finished, practically hissing the last part in anger as the connections were made in my mind, flowing forth like tumblers falling into place, unlocking terrible understanding. How had I not seen the parallels before? He's popular, and in authority, using it for petty ends. For him it's making the world a better place, he's stopping people he's deemed villains before they can hurt anyone, even if he breaks the rules he himself hides behind. For Ms. Barnes it was trying to get Taylor to lash out, she's trying to get her to prove herself strong like Emma did before Sophia would bother to save her, even if it means torturing someone she called a friend. For both of them though, it's perverted its original purpose, moving from misguided help to vicious self-aggrandizement. I swear to god if I didn't know he had a chance of being redeemed I'd kill him myself!

Herb looked at me in concern, my intentions probably written across my face. 'You good?' he mouthed. I nodded back sharply, mouthing 'get ready to move', jerking my head in the direction of the confrontation. He nodded, still looking at me in concern, as Taylor's voice came over the comms, seething with the rage I felt. "You. You asshole!" she bit out. "I tried to save kids, and now you're threatening me with the Birdcage? I checked the laws, I was in the right! I-"

"Like someone your age knows the laws," he scoffed, so full of prideful dismissal, so sure that he had complete control of the situation. He was wrong, and if, no, when he stepped over the line, as he would when he didn't 'win', he'd pay for his arrogance. "I have access to them right now and I-"

"Are Lying!" She spat, the swarm agitating around her. "Arclight, 94. He fought the Red-Gaters when he thought they'd taken a school bus hostage, and a couple of them died. He was cleared of charges because they'd said they were going to kill their hostages, even though it was a bluff! I'm trying to be a Hero and-"

"You are too dangerous to be allowed to go free, you obviously can't control your powers and are a danger to those around you," His tone of voice was odd, his haughtiness and twisted anger mostly suppressed, almost clinical. The Disconnect confused us all for a second. It was like he wasn't talking to her anymore. Like he was speaking to a camera almost.

"Taylor, run!" Herb shouted into the comms, figuring it out moments before I did. "He's gonna-" but the man who claimed the title of hero had already taken something from his belt and tossed it at her, the bugs I had watching him blinded by a white light as the crackle of lightning sounded from the empty lot, the comms capturing her cry of pain, as the presence of the swarm around her vanished in a moment of shock and twitching death. A cold wash of panic flooded me as I felt Taylor's power dim like an ill-snuffed flame.

Herb was off like a shot, Enter right behind him. I flew up to come in from above. As I crested the roof I saw Enter barrel into Armsmaster who was turning to face him in surprise, Taylor prone and unmoving, the ground dark around her, hopefully with insects, not blood. The Stand dodged around the halberd's blade, planting a haymaker across the "hero's" face. Herb followed his Stand as Armsmaster stumbled backwards, slamming his fist into Armsmaster's breastplate, sending his foe backwards as Herb pulled his hand back in pain, the broken finger quickly righted as his Stand's copied power healed him slightly.

Swooping towards Taylor I pulled the costume off of my finger to heal her if I needed to. Coming down kneeling next to her, I smelled burnt hair and fried insects, but not the distinct metallic scent of blood. The ground crunched under me as I picked her up, checking her for injuries. There was electrical scoring on the chitin plates, but the grey silk that made up the majority of her suit was unblemished. Right I thought, spider silk, like at the Gala.

Her hair was frazzled, and bit of her ends were burnt, but I couldn't find any more obvious injuries. As I held her she started moaning in pain, her presence in my bug sense brightening as she woke up. I reached with my uncovered hand and pressed my finger to her scalp, willing my healing power to do the general "Get Better" package, hopefully healing the damage I couldn't see. "What?" she asked, starting to struggle, weakly at first but gaining strength.

"Break and Enter are taking care of Armsmaster, you okay?" I asked, standing and letting her up.

"Yeah, what was-" she asked, cut off by the sound of electricity. Both our heads snapped over to see Armsmaster throw a ball at Enter, similar to the one that had fallen next to Taylor, Lightning striking out from it like tesla coil. Enter caught the baseball sized device, arcs playing over the Stand's body to no effect as it gave the Tinker a saurian smile, it's second trigger Immunity power negating the electricity. It crushed the device as bolts scored the cement dozens of feet away, tossing the sparking device negligently back at its creator, Armsmaster rolling away as it exploded. Enter pursued him through the explosion, Herb running to the side to cut off his escape.

Taylor started to form a swarm, but I stopped her from sending the gathering to help, pulling them back. Her head whipped around to look at me, shocked expression probably on her face. "Let Break and Enter take care of this," I told her, watching the fight. "You getting involved will let him claim that you 'attacked him', whereas this is us defending someone who was attacked for no legal reason." She wasn't happy, bristling over the Bug Control sense we shared, but kept quiet as we watched the fight.

Armsmaster had done something and the blade of his halberd had shifted ninety degrees and started spinning like a demented circular saw, the disk blade warding off Herb. Taking two steps back he shifted his grip and the blade righted itself, launching outwards to plant itself in the wall of a nearby building, pulling himself up and away as Herb charged, grasping hand missing the tinker by inches. Enter leaped upwards, form molding and shifting into the leathery wings of a Pteranodon as it gave a single powerful flap, accelerating towards Armsmaster in a dark blur.

The Tinker reached the top, using his weapon to leverage himself up to the rooftop in a smooth, practiced jump, armor cracked and blackened but still intact. His leap however sent him on a parabolic arc which Enter arrowed in on, shifting back as he reached his target, momentum conserved as the Stand flew above the escaping cape, fist impacting the back of Armsmaster's helmet, sending his head to impact the ledge and to fall the forty feet back to earth. The armored figure impacted the ground, back first, with a metallic crunch, frantically reaching for his halberd as Enter descended, aiming to impact Armsmaster. His halberd grasped, he twisted something in the handle and pointed it straight up.

The halberd gave the whine of something powering up and the blade glowed with a crackle of plasma, before the it was launched at high speed, catching Enter straight in the head, bisecting it into a burned bloody mess as the body impacted Armsmaster, the murderous Tinker giving an 'oof' on impact.

Taylor gave a shout of fright, and tried to send the swarms down at him, only to be pulled back by me again. "Don't you care!" she yelled. "He just killed your teammate!"

"Did he?" I asked, as Enter, reformed, ran in from an alley, catching up to Herb as they ran towards Armsmaster, who had pushed the corpse off of himself and was struggling to his feet. They both reared back and kicked him in the chest, lifting him up as they knocked him back, Herb grabbing and tossing the halberd away as Enter landed on his chest, pounding away at Armsmaster's head. He struggled under the blows, electricity arcing up over Enter, doing nothing, followed by several darts, and a burst of fire, all useless. The blows rained down as his struggles got weaker and weaker, stopping entirely.

"Enough" I called, striding forward. Enter gave one more punch before standing up, spitting on his killer as he ambled away. I walked over to his downed form, using the bugs with me to swarm him, getting a sense of his armor in three dimensions. Motioning Enter over, I had him help me pry the armor apart, the Stand growing claws to help him pry open the crushed metal.

His armor opened like a high-tech can and we pulled him out in his under-suit, dragging him over so I could put my unarmored hand on him, giving him the "Get Better" treatment enough to stop his bleeding, no more. No sense to have him die on us when we meant to humiliate the Vigilante with good PR.

Enter moved past me with Herb, the two grabbing his motorcycle and dragging it across the empty lot. Dropping it next to the broken armor, Herb shot his Stand a look, who morphed into something large and armored, slamming its clubbed tail into the bike over and over again, various defenses going off and doing absolutely nothing as the high precision vehicle powered by tinkertech was reduced to a heaping pile of scrap, as well as the remains of the armor. Turning over the pile, Enter smashed that as well, repeating the process several more times, the pile seeming to grow in size each time, which made no sense. Fucking Tinkers.

I walked over to Herb glancing at Taylor before glaring at the downed Protectorate Leader. I shot Enter a look. "He's being thorough," I commented dryly.

"Fucker tried to kill Enter!" he responded hotly. "Hero my ass!"

I shrugged, using the collected bugs to retrieve my cameras, stopping the recordings and storing them. "Luckily for us, Enter's hard to kill." The Stand snorted in agreement.

We looked down at the bloody body of the leader of the Protectorate and I Knew him. Primary power was the mess of locked knowledge that indicated a Tinker, specializing in the Miniaturization of other tech, with a barrier to the integration of Tinker-made Tech. Secondary Power, Spatial Warping, with a range limit, subconsciously controlled, and limited to non-biological material in the warped space. I had no qualms as my power reached out and took that, adding it to my roster.

Looking down at his unconscious form Herb said "You know, I'm gonna need to recycle this, because it's wrong to litter trash all over the place. Don't worry, we'll clean up your mess." Enter rolled the wreckage over to an alley, stuffing it in the cans. "We'll call an ambulance for you, maybe."

With that Herb turned on his heel and walked off, the three of us following him, indifferent to the piece of trash we left behind.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.3

Following Herb through the streets, Enter dissipated in the third alleyway we cut through, causing Taylor to jump in surprise. "He'll be back when he's needed," Herb told her, smiling mysteriously. "It's his way."

I rolled my eyes. "I think we're far enough away. We need to talk," I stated, turning to face Taylor, who took a step back, suddenly nervous. I stopped seeing her reaction. "No, calm down Taylor, not that way. Shut up Herb." I groused at my friend, who was trying to suppress giggles.

"I'm sorry, but," the rest was lost in giggles.

I rolled my eyes. "Right. On point, Taylor, we need you to make a decision. Do you want to join our team, or not? If you want to be a hero, we need to get you registered with the PRT before Armsdick regains consciousness and sets up things against you. Right now, we can walk right in and get you registered, if we wait too long, they'd probably try to arrest you for 'questioning', where you'd end up conscripted in the wards, or sent to jail."

"But not the Birdcage?" she asked fearfully.

"What?" I asked, confused, things clicking together as I thought about her question.

"Honey, he wasn't gonna actually do it," Herb told her, having stopped laughing. "That was just to rustle your feathers. 'sides, even if he somehow did, you'd never get there. We'd break you out on the way! And if you somehow got there, we'd break you out!"

"But," she asked in tones of disbelief, "No one's broken out of there."

Herb countered easily, "Only 'cause we haven't had a reason to do it yet."

"Either way, it's nothing to worry about," I told her, focusing on the pressing issue. "So, do you want to sign up as a Hero of the Penumbral Defenders?"

"Buuuuuut," Herb interjected. "If you don't there's a great group of Undersiders who are looking for a teammate. You and them would work really well together, and I'm always gonna be that shadow that's there for you." Damnit Herb, can't you even let her answer? I thought, annoyed. I could work with a no!

I smacked him in the arm. "I'd help her too dumbass, even if she didn't sign up with us officially. Don't make it sound like you're the only one that would."

"Of course you would," he shrugged. "But you still gotta be the Hero, which means you might not be able to help."

"Hero-ish," I corrected. "My definition, not theirs. Hero, of an In-De-Pen-Dent Team!" I stressed.

He rolled his eyes before smacking me back with a loose wrist and pronounced lisp. "Fine, he-ro."

"Dude, please don't be gay, like right now. I'm trying to be serious," I asked, likely fruitlessly.

"He-roooo," he repeated, sounding like a geisha. I looked at him pleadingly as he turned to our hopefully new recruit, all seriousness gone from the moment. "Taylor shouldn't care," he said, glancing as he also addressed her, a hint of a lisp still in his voice. "'cause she's gonna learn that true masculinity is a show of self-confidence in yourself." He reached over and started stroking my arm. "That means even if you act gay-"

"Please stop petting me," I requested, knowing that getting upset would only make him worse.

"I know I want the pootangy," he continued as if I hadn't said anything, "I don't need the pole."

"Really?" I asked, "Do you have to be so vulgar in front of the fifteen-year-old girl?"

"Sorry," he said unrepentantly, all accent gone. "I would like the vagina over the penis."

"Somehow that's worse. Complaint retracted."

"Thank you," he replied magnanimously.

"So, right, the point of what we were talking about," I redirected, trying to salvage the momentum of the moment. "I can get you on my independent hero team, or you can join the Undersiders. Hell, I might be able to get you on after you join them, but it would be an order of magnitude harder to pull off."

"Again, the Undersiders, they kinda need you," Herb argued. "They need you more than the heroes do, in every way, shape and form."

I just looked at him. "Why you gotta be like that man?" I asked. "You're not wrong, but why you gotta be like that?"

"Because," he answered smugly. "I'm an emotional person, I may do some fucked up shit, and money is fun to mess with, but it's all about the emotions for me."

"Not logic apparently," I retorted.

He waved away my point. "Logic is relative."

"No it isn't!" I protested. "That's the point of logic! It's objective!

"To you," he snorted as I couldn't help but sigh, Taylor looking between the two of us like following a tennis match. "I'm from 'murica, and you know what I care about? Well, we're in New Hampshire, so probably not much, just sayin', But I know that I care about Taylor, her wellbeing, her future self's wellbeing-"

"Can ya stop suggesting that I don't?" I asked, getting a little annoyed. "I mean, I don't really give a shit about most of the Undersiders to be honest."

"I do though," He sighed, knowing our goals diverged here.

"Why?" Came the question from Taylor, stopping us both in the tracks. "Why do you care about me so much? I'm. . . I'm not worth it."

At this both of us stopped and sighed in unison. I walked further down the alley, motioning them to follow, cranking up my Acoustokinesis to check for anyone hiding. Getting nothing more than the heartbeats of a few rats, I wrapped the sound around us so no-one else could hear. I looked to Herb, asking with my eyes if I could take this one, to which he nodded. "Taylor, take off your mask for a sec," I requested.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to as well and it's only polite," I told her, which was one reason. The other is that without the mask, Taylor was much more likely to take what I said to heart, and what I said would make a much greater impression.

She went utterly still for a moment, muttering to herself "They already know who you are." Words that I wouldn't have caught had I not been using my power, before reaching up and taking off her mask, fishing a pair of glasses from a belt pouch.

I put my hand to my domino mask, willing it off and catching it, holding it in my hand as I looked at her straight in the eye. As her green eyes met my prismatic ones, she gave a start and diverted her gaze, taking a step back, her agitation thrumming through her bugs. I was confused for a second before I realized why she was treating me like Medusa. "It's not a master power," I told her, exasperated. "The only one I have that falls under that classification is bug control, like you. Do you remember hearing about case 53's?" I asked.

"The monster capes?" She asked, still not looking at me. "The ones who don't have memories? You seem to still have yours!" she responded accusatorily.

I rolled my eyes as Herb just watched, amused. "Yeah, they're the extreme examples. Sometimes powers change you a little bit. I got these eyes, Herb got Vampire teeth." She looked at him, as he took off his mask, smiling. She stared, a combination of scared and intrigued, before looking me in the eye once more, rallying herself.

"You were going to tell me why you cared?" she asked, trying to go on the offensive.

I held her gaze as I told her with honest sincerity. "Because I know you Taylor Anne Hebert, just as I know a handful of others in this city. I know who you are, who you were, and who you could become. I know the things that you hate about yourself, that you think you hide from everyone; your secret hopes and fears. I know your strengths, and I know your weaknesses, and I accept them all. You are worthy of care, not because of your age, your gender, your race, or even your powers, but because you are you. I may disagree with you, may even work at odds to you, but I will never abandon you, even if you fall, for you are worth saving. Do you understand?"

She gave me a terrified, deer in the headlights look that my moments of pure honesty sometimes inspired, finally letting at a tenuous "No?" I closed my eyes sighing, this had been a mistake. I started to turn away as Herb laughed, his humor at my failure salt in the wound. "Wait," she called. "Maybe? It's just. . . a lot." She looked over at Herb, "What's funny."

"It's just doing that is so. . . him," He chuckled. "You've got to work up to that shit, but he just goes and says it. He totally means it too," he told her seriously. "He hates lying to people he respects."

"But I,-" she started.

"Have earned his respect," he interrupted. "From me too. Fuck, at your age I would have fucked those bitches up hard, especially if I'd had your powers. They'd have woken up covered in 'em every single morning."

"But, I'd have been arrested," she started, stopping at my snort. "I would have been!"

"That's what you told yourself," I said, looking her in the eye again. "But you're intelligent and creative, a devastating combination. A swarm would get you caught, but something as simple as lice? You know how that can spread among friends, and would it be that unlikely they'd 'spread' them to each other?" I asked using air quotes. "They might spread to a few other girls, but those are the bitches that support the terrible trio, so why should you care? Or you could give their homes roaches, along with a few random other houses so as not to attract suspicion. Have a single wasp go after one of them, that happens sometimes. You could just strip out the beneficial bugs from their house, or have a bee chew a hole into the attic and set up a hive. Hell, if you really got vindictive you could give them crabs. You didn't do it because you'd get arrested Taylor, you did it because you're a good person and you want to be a hero." I saw her look of dawning comprehension and pressed on. "You believe that using your powers for personal vengeance would sully them, and sully you, so instead you took another several months of bullying and abuse rather than use your powers for that. That, and things like that, are why we're here to help."

Herb nodded, "He's right, even if he's being too fuckin' long winded. It's why we believe in you, and the fact that you question yourself is your best and worst trait, because it keeps you honest"

"I," she started. "I don't,"

"Don't worry about it," I told her, putting my mask back on. "I might've overdid it on the frank truths." I ignored Herb's snort of "you're like an emotional sledgehammer to the face", "But you asked a question, and I gave you my honest answer. All you need to worry about now is a name."

"Nova," Herb declared. "It just sounds great. Hopi for chasing butterflies, but it doesn't give away your powers. They expect explosions, then you hit them with bugs!"

"Or," I retorted. "You could go with 'The Lady, Bug'. Sounds regal, bit of a pun, and makes you sound mature, like Lady Photon."

She looked down at herself, her costume a study in greys and blacks. "I don't look much like a Nova or a Lady."

"In your stealth costume? Not really," I observed, getting her attention. "But your formal costume? Definitely."

"We gonna hook you up girl!" Herb crowed, putting his mask back on. "We gonna get you set up with a cape designer and you are gonna look fan-tab-u-lous!" The last word accompanied by finger snaps.

"Then, I think I'm gonna go with 'The Lady, Bug'," she decided, ducking her head down to put on her mask. As she did so I shot Herb a questioning look about my efforts, and he nodded back, smiling broadly.

"So, Registered Hero or Undercover Hero?" I asked. Two could play the false dichotomy game. Besides, she was going to be a hero no matter what.

"You'll be a good hero," Herb told her, "You are a hero, but the Undersiders need you the most."

It was subtle, but Herb's proclamation that she was a hero, especially coming from a self-professed villain, seemed to take her aback. I pushed the point home, "Don't doubt you're a hero Taylor, you fought fucking Lung, someone you believed to be way above your weight class, the leader of one of the cities gangs on your first night out. You didn't do it because you wanted to test yourself, or you thought you could take him, or any of that bullshit. You did it because you thought that he was going to kill kids, and you had to stop that from happening, even scared shitless, even thinking you might die! You fought someone you believed was so far above your weight class it wasn't even funny.

Herb chimed in, "If anything, you're above him. You don't know how kinda awesome you are, and by kinda I mean really." He waved me to go on.

"Right, you fought him just because it was the right thing to do." I jerked a thumb in the direction of the scene of our fight against the overbearing tinker. "Armsdick back there? If he wasn't sure he could take Lung down with his first strike, he would've left them to die, even if it hadn't been the Undersiders, but actually fucking kids. He would've called in support, and twiddled his thumbs until he could get a team to lead in with overwhelming force, so chances would be he wouldn't be hurt in the slightest. Some twelve-year olds are burned to death? Whelp, he was just following procedure. No one could blame him for that. Mind you, nothing in procedure said he was supposed to, or even allowed to try to take you down, but he only cares about that when it helps him avoid responsibility as a hero, hiding behind rules to cover his own cowardice." I took a deep breath, calming myself. "Authority figures who reap the benefits of their position while neglecting their duties are the reason I don't work for the Protectorate, nor would I ask you to. Independent teams though, that's a whole 'nother ball game."

"Ah-men!" Herb chimed in with a southern accent. "He is quite the smart dude, and a bit more preachy. I'm just more fun." I'm not preachy! I thought, shooting him a glance. Why is he being such a dick and undercutting the points we agree on?

She considered the problem looking like she might end up choosing Herb's option. I could give her fame, recognition, and help her do the right thing, but he was offering her friends. Not only that, but friends that needed her. With how she was right now, the chance she'd choose straight hero-ing was a coin-flip at best. My mind scrabbled for a few seconds before I found a possible work-around. "Best of both worlds," I told them, startling them both, though only Taylor really showed it. "I sign you up as 'probationary' member of my team, if you get caught doing a bunch of really hinky shit, please don't get caught doing a bunch of really hinky shit, I can be all 'I'm reconsidering her probationary status'," I said in a bad posh British accent. "'And am considering her versatility and utility in my organization as opposed to the difficulties involved in possible rehabilitation, if you have evidence that it really is her that is,' and other shit like that until you can either redeem them, find enough evidence to put them away if they're irredeemable, as well as their boss who's a freaking sociopath, or decide to quit their team and go legit. As long as you don't do anything worth getting Birdcaged over, and don't get successfully framed by villains or 'heroes' for that level of stuff either, you should be good." I finished.

Herb nodded, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "See!" he proclaimed. "I told you, he's the smartest. He knows how to work the system."

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. "I fucking hate the system and would tear it down if I thought it wouldn't do more harm than good, but yeah. I can kinda do the dance of perception management."

"Like I said, he knows how to work it. Me," he told her, putting a hand to his chest, "not so good at that." I snorted in response. When it came to people, he was naturally better than I was by a country mile.

"So," I said, starting to walk out of the alley. "If we're going to do this we need to get moving before he gets conscious. Do you want to go with our probationary hero plan?" I asked. Taylor looked between the two of us before slowly nodding, her control of her bugs thrumming with nervous apprehension. "Okay then," I smiled, holding out a hand. "We need to get there in a hurry. Would you like to fly?"

Taylor nodded again, this time a bit more confident as she reached out and tentatively took my hand. I used the forcefield I'd copied from Glory Girl and extended it past me to surround Taylor as well, who gave a strangled shriek as we both smoothly lifted up several inches. "Basic Superman rules apply," I told her. She stared at me for a second before cocking her head to the side in confusion. "Right, Earth Aleph thing. I can make you fly by touching you, so don't let go. I can catch you, but it won't be nearly as fun as flying." I turned us both in the air to face Herb. "You want to come with or do you want to ride your brother home."

Herb blinked, nonplussed at my phrasing before shaking his head. "We'll just walk home," he stated, manifesting his Stand to walk beside him as he started to leave the alley.

"Was he there the entire time?" asked Taylor nervously.

"Yes and no," I responded. At her look I explained, slowly levitating us. "It's his power, you want to know the specifics about the mechanics, ask him. Functionally, just know that wherever Break is, Enter is probably somewhere nearby." She started to nod, immediately realizing how high she was and started to let go in surprise. I held on as she immediately realized what she was doing and grabbed on with both hands, a swarm of flies, wasps, beetles, and other flying insects swarming up toward us. Reaching out with my own power, I pushed all of them but a few back down.

She turned her head to look at me in what I assumed was an accusatory fashion as I drew her up and away, starting to move over the city. "We're going to PRT HQ," I told her. "Bringing an army of insects to do so sends the wrong message. Also, I get how you like the full helmet, it's good protection, hides your identity, except your hair, and looks intimidating, but unless you're going for the inhuman terrifying persona of a really good villain, you need to be more expressive. I can't tell if you're glaring at me, want an answer, or are gazing at me lovingly behind that thing.

That got a reaction. "What?! No, I was, I mean, I wanted to know about the bugs. I wasn't, you wouldn't, wait, inhuman?" she demanded in a rush, shock forcing her into a stream of consciousness.

I nodded, dropping the acustokinetic bubble, causing her to jump as the sound of the city came back, keeping a direct connection so we could still hear each other. "You're always concentrating on the bugs, and your. . . experiences tamped down your body language as a defense mechanism, so people would have to listen to you talk or see your face to pick up your emotions. If you don't talk and cover your face, it gets a lot harder for normal people to pick them up, and you are expressing your emotions through your insects, so you seem emotionless, and without a visible face, inhuman." I tapped my domino mask. "It's why most heroes try to leave at least part of their face exposed, even if they don't have brute powers. The public relations and interpersonal gains are worth the lack of protection."

We flew over the city as I slowly dispersed all the bugs flying around us, leaving the ones on Taylor alone. "What are you thinking?" I prodded.

"My helmet, it's not a hero's, is it?" She asked softly, sounding depressed.

I looked over at her, concentrating on her, feeling a sense of mistake, failure, defeat, from my sense of her through my borrowed bug control. I shrugged, getting her attention. "It could be, the color scheme is kinda villain-y, but as an armored stealth suit for missions it's pretty good. With the helmet, you need to learn to, damn it I can't remember the word. You need to show your emotions more."

"Expressive?" she offered, trying to help.

"Maybe, I can't remember," I responded, slowing down as we landed in front of the entrance, the guards inside putting their hands on their foam sprayers, but doing nothing else. "You need to show your emotions more. There's some tricks I can teach you which are really effective uses of your power, but they'll exacerbate the problem if you aren't already vocally expressive."

Walking inside I saw the guard who had given me directions to the hospital on-duty inside the lobby. "Hey, you!" I called with good cheer. "It didn't work out, but thanks for the directions!" He looked distinctly uncomfortable, but I was just being nice, so whatever. Walking over to the front desk, Taylor in tow I smiled at the receptionist, a younger woman this time. "Hello, my name is Vejovis, leader of the independent hero team, the Penumbral Defenders, and I'm here to register our new probationary member; The Lady, Bug. Is there a form to fill out for this, or are we going to have to go through that entire hassle again?" I tried to keep my tone jovial, but my annoyance must have crept in as her answering smile got a little forced.

"I," she started, drawing out the sound, stalling for time. "I don't believe we do. What information are you willing to share about Ladybug?"

"Can I have a piece of paper?" I asked, getting one after a moment. "To start with her name is The Lady, Bug, or Lady Bug, like Lady Photon," I told her, writing it down. "Not Ladybug, minor but important difference. Obviously female, Caucasian, and her power is insect control, like mine, less range but greater finesse."

I felt Taylor's agitation behind me as I casually told them her power. I made a subtle 'calm down' motion with my hand as I tried to send feelings of confidence back to her as the woman behind the desk asked, "What is her range?" causing the feelings from her to spike as I responded, "A block and a half, about four-hundred fifty, five hundred feet," the agitation calming into confusion and interest. "It shifts a bit, we're not sure why yet." I continued, titling the page "Probationary member, Penumbral Defenders", listing her powers and details, understating everything as I did so.

"Is there anything else you need to know?" I asked as the phone rang. Took you long enough I thought, reaching through the bugs to look inside, finding less then there were yesterday, but still enough to serve as spies. People were moving around quickly, though less panicked then last time, which was progress, I supposed.

Looking around, I couldn't find Piggot, the director. Guess she's on the Rig, I mused. Wouldn't have guessed she'd work right next to the capes, given her position on 'em, but it's a better tactical position, and she's distinctly militantly minded. The receptionist took the call, asking me "The Director-" before wincing as the person on the other end snapped something loud enough for the act to be heard by us, though not the content. "My boss," she amended. "Wants to know how you found Lady Bug."

"We ran into each other on patrol," I replied easily. "She was independent, and, well, you know the survivability of new independent heroes, so I offered her a probationary position on my team."

What could only have been Piggot relayed another question. I was tempted to use Acoustokinesis to listen in, but if I heard something before it was relayed, my expression might give me away, and I wanted to avoid that if possible, so waited for the question to be relayed. "Where did you meet her?" was the next one.

I smiled, showing a bit of teeth. "I'm afraid I won't relay information that may result in the unmasking of my team members. Next question please."

Another relay. "Sh- My boss says you need to answer the question."

"I really don't. This is a courtesy, and I have committed no crimes. Have a nice day." I turned on my heel and started to walk away, the guards moving to hold their sprayers, but not point them at us.

A could here Piggot yelling something. "Last question!" The woman called. "What do you mean probationary?"

I didn't break stride. "Break and Enter have my full trust, everyone else has to earn it!"

Stepping outside I offered Taylor an arm, which she hooked hers through, and we took off, leaving the nervous guards behind.

Flying through the air, I turned to Taylor, "Where and when are you meeting the Undersiders?"

"What, um, where I fought Lung, and at 4, so, what time is it?" she asked.

For a girl who could multitask like a supercomputer, she seemed oddly distracted. "What's up Lady Bug?".

"Nothing. Nothing's up," she responded quickly. I sighed, and then stared at her, slowing down slightly. "It's just, you said everyone had to earn your trust, and-"

I sighed harder, pinching the bridge of my nose with my free hand as I slowed us to a stop, hanging mid-air. "Lady Bug, while I don't lie to people that I respect. Do you really think I respect people who demand answers from someone coming in as a curtesy, let alone all the other shit the PRT pulls?"

I got the distinct impression that if I could see her face, she would be red as my connection to her thrummed with embarrassment. "No," she finally replied, when it was obvious I was waiting for an answer.

"That part wasn't a lie, but don't take everything I tell other people at face value. Those who would be our enemies peddle in false-hoods and double talk, so I only see it fair that I reply in kind. I don't trust people who haven't earned it, but you have already, so calm down. So," I continued, looking away as she felt even more embarrassed for some reason, fishing my phone out of a pouch. "We have twenty minutes, there's some things you need to know about the group you're going to go get recruited by," I commented, starting to move again.

"I know at least one of the Undersiders isn't there by choice, and you need to see if the rest are working for Coil through threat of force, dangling the thing they need in front of them and making them believe he's the only way to get it, or because they have no-where else to go," I explained.

"They're forced to be villains?" she asked, aghast.

I shook my head. "Don't be naïve Lady Bug, you've heard of people being forced into gangs at school. If you don't have a combat oriented power, what protection would a person have against doing the same thing? Their boss, Coil, you probably won't meet him, but you need to make sure you're never alone with him okay?"

Her grip on my arm tightened. "Why, is he a Master?"

I shook my head just once, looking her in the eye, or at least eye-plate, once more. "No, he's just a sociopathic sadist whose power lets him indulge in his tastes without consequence. The blonde, Tattletale, has super-intuition, so I can't tell you everything until your undercover stint is over. Sorry," I shrugged to her feelings of betrayal. "So, powers, they sometimes effect how your brain works to optimize your powers," I threw out, distracting her.

"Wait, did that happen to me?" she asked, concerned, issue forgotten, or at least put on the backburner.

"A little, if I had to guess it's was more your brain's own plasticity adapting to better handle your power," I told her. "You're multitasking has gotten unreal, but is natural as far as I can tell, and will only improve with time and use. You're way better than me, and Break isn't in even close. I'm mentioning this because their heavy hitter, Bitch, is an extreme example of that."

"The one with the monster dogs?" She asked, looking down at the city as we lazily flew above it while still obviously paying attention to everything I said.

"Like most things, sorta," I explained, slipping into teacher mode. "She can incase dogs in a larger meat-suit they control for a bit, but they are still regular dogs in the center, and she can't control them like you can your bugs. Instead she her brain got shifted so she has a near supernatural ability to understand and train them. Unfortunately, when it was programming in canine social systems it overwrote a lot of the human ones she has, and she was from an abusive foster-home so that wasn't a lot to begin with. She intellectually knows about human social patterns, but hasn't really studied them in depth to fake normality, as dogs aren't big on book learning. To her, too much talking registers as excessive barking, smiling is just baring your teeth, and every group works like a pack. Regardless of what the others want, she'll probably try to establish dominance. Don't let her, or she'll never respect you."

"What?!" Taylor cried, shocked and a little scared. "How?"

I shrugged, "That's for you to handle. None of them are really a threat to you."

She looked at me, and her tone indicated she doubted my sanity. "They're an entire team of supervillains, how are they not a threat?"

"Bug control, it's battlefield control on a ridiculous scale. Grue, the guy in leather and a skull mask, creates darkness that acts like impenetrable smoke to everyone but him. It stops all light, and mutes sound, heat, and radiation. It doesn't stop your connection to your bugs. Tag him with a few to keep track of him, and swarm him if you have to. Regent can take over a person's nervous system and puppet them, but it takes hours of sustained effort to really pull it off, and normally he can just make you trip, but too much has a feedback effect on him. Doesn't affect your swarm, so swarm him. Bitch has dogs. Swarm them hard, blocking airways if you have to, but know it'll kill them and make her your enemy for life. Tattletale claims to be psychic, but like I said has super-intuition. She'll immediately read that you know their powers from little things like word choice, intonation, body language, so on, and will try to de-escalate the situation now the element of surprise is gone. Might even read info about me, but again that's why Break and I haven't told you that much yet, and can't tell you certain things until she's joined up, has left the city, or is dead."

"Dead?" Taylor asked, fear creeping into her tone.

"Won't be from our hands," I reassured her. "The options are in order of preference. If she won't join I'll get her into a safehouse somewhere people that would hunt her down and enslave her for her thinker power wouldn't find her, but that she'd hopefully be happy in."

I landed in the docks, a few blocks away from the meeting place. "You're smart, resourceful, and tough. You can do this. You have our cards if you want to hang out, get some training, vent, need help, or are about to do something really stupid."

"Don't you realize something stupid after you do it?" she asked, hurt by the implication that she'd do something stupid in the first place. I considered bringing up her location for the Armsmaster meet, but she'd take it the wrong way. Natural triggers were so damn touchy.

I visibly winced. "Bad phrasing. If everyone else is going to do something really stupid, like robbing a bank in broad daylight, and you're going to have to go with them, call us with the when and where and we'll be there to cover you and keep things from getting too bad. Hell, depending on what you're doing, we might just straight up help. At the very least I'll be able to spin it to make any 'heroes' who cross the line look villainous, and you to look downright heroic with your restraint.

She gave me a nod as she let go of my arm, looking in the direction of her next confrontation. I dropped into the alley and flew off, staying low so I didn't get spotted by Tattletale.

Good I thought, I didn't fuck that one up. One down, two to go.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.4

Landing back at Base, I walked in to rap blasting, Herb singing tonelessly along with it. Striding over to the computers I turned it off right as he hit a high note, and I feared for the safety of the glassware in the kitchen. Turning around he asked, "What the hell man?"

"Dude," I shot back, "That's way too loud. This is supposed to be an abandoned train depot."

"It's my base, I do what I want!" he sassed, before getting serious. "How did it go?"

"Good, we got her registered, and dropped off with a warning about Tattletale and Bitch, along with a quick rundown of their powers. She's got this," I reassured him.

"Won't telling her that change how thing play out?" He asked, concerned.

I shook my head. "Nah man, that was gonna happen no matter what. She's still got the marks on her armor from that Tesla sphere, which Lisa will pick up instantly. Taylor's also got us supporting her, so that'll change how she acts anyways. Speaking of support, what the hell was that with Taylor? She needs to be on our team so we can help her, why were you trying to convince her not to be?"

He shook his head. "You got it all wrong. Taylor isn't a hero, she just thinks she is. I'm just giving her options to find her true self."

I looked at my friend in disbelief. "Are you high? Of course she is, every time she's given power she uses it to help other people! That's, like, the definition of hero!"

"The heroes keep fuckin' her over, so she obviously isn't" he retorted.

I growled, frustration percolating deep in my throat. "I don't give a shit what the government stooges think. I know what a Hero is, I know I am one, Taylor is, and you are, even if you're convinced your not, but if you want to label yourself as a villain as that's the roll you're playing, I haven't been commenting on it. You are an intrinsically good person, and trying to make the world a good place. You want a Villain, look at Boojack. He doesn't have that innate need to help that we do, and if he declared himself a villain, I'd believe it." I paused for breath, quickly pressing on before Herb could get his stupid, illogical rebuttal in. "Boojack isn't a Supervillain, but he'd be on call for one, and would only answer like half the time. You, you're different, and I'm respecting your self-delusion, but don't spread that shit to Taylor. She's still figuring herself out, and doesn't need you messing with her head that way. The Undersiders? Villains all, but I'd still try to recruit Grue and Tattletale. The rest can hang for all I care, but those two are villains that can be redeemed! I know you're trying to help, but for once I've got a better read on the situation than you do here so back off on the villain shit. Okay?"

His expression had gotten increasingly apprehensive. "Jesus Christ man, fine, I'll stop talking about her being a villain! What's your problem?"

The honest confusion ground my anger like a lightning rod. "Dude," I sighed, "You might not remember but at the start of the book? She'd in a pretty delicate headspace. You joking and shit with Weaver? Confuse the hell out of her, but she'd adapt and the two of you would get along decently, both villains trying to do the right thing. Thing is, she isn't even Skitter yet, and with luck never will be. I won't hamstring her like the PRT would, and I'm giving her a different, better option. You've got that Villains are cool shit goin' on, and understand implicitly how that and bein' good aren't mutually exclusive by the common linguistic conventions, but she's, she's like I used to be. Burned so many times by people her feelings told her were okay she tends to go by overt communication, what they say, instead of implicit shit, what they really mean. Your words say Villain, but you mean Rebel, but that's not what other people mean, hell, it's not what most mean, and the type of 'villain' you represent is the exception not the rule. You convince her to be a 'villain' and she'll be what she thinks a villain is, not what you actually mean. She'd learn in time, but I don't want her to go through all the shit that I went through to be able to understand you, and we don't have time to teach her the right way. You're normally all up in this shit that I thought you were doing it on purpose. Sorry," I finished lamely.

"Fuuuck," Herb replied in realization. "She is isn't she. Yeah, I'll cut back on that shit, but I'm still trash talkin' the Protectorate,' he warned me.

I snorted "Pffft, go ahead, they deserve it. I'll help." I grabbed a laptop and headed for my room, turning the music back on, but turning it down. "Thanks man, good talk," I told him as I left. He nodded, back to singing about drifting on memory bliss, whatever that meant.



Killing time I went over the responses I'd gotten from my Lawyer search, looking up the positive responders online. I finished up going with Eldington, Raul, & Calle, lawyers specializing in dealing with capes, though they had positive reviews from both heroes and villains. I faxed them the contract, forwarded their retainer, and asked how soon they were ready to start. A few minutes later I got a response of "As soon as you need us."

With that heartening reply I wrote up an edited description of what happened, leaving out everyone's names and the specifics of our powers, but enough for them to work with. Attached to that were the video files all eight of my cameras recorded, along with the audio file from our comms, cutting out our use of names with a beep, only then realizing I'd never asked back from Taylor, just turned them off.

Shrugging I sent it all, with the request that they present what happened to Director Piggot, minus the portion about going undercover, since Armsmastor's actions did not seem befitting as the head of a branch of the Protectorate, using what appeared to be untested Tinkertech, but not to release it to the media, just to use the threat of which to keep her from trying anything too hasty. Leaning back and stretching, I considered my current power set. I'd gotten better with the Aerokinesis, but I needed to work on something else as I was getting a bit bored with it, and the next step would have involved someone throwing things at me. I didn't trust Herb, or god forbid Boojack, to do it consistently without fucking with me, couldn't let Taylor know I had four powers, as some online research showed that the hard maximum anyone had found a cape to have was three, and that would have raised too many questions, and I honestly didn't feel like building something to do it.

As my mind wandered I turned my focus to Armsmaster's secondary power I'd snatched. Turning anything into a bag of holding sounded nifty, but he'd not been using it consciously, so I didn't have a repertoire of pre-developed tricks to work with like Stormtiger or Glory Girl. Playing around with it for a few hours was seriously disappointing, which I should've expected from Armsdick. I wasn't exempt from the "No Biological matter" limitation like I thought I might be, so it was less 'bag of holding' and more 'complex machinery that massed a fraction of what it should'. If I could've taken his miniaturization Tinkerness it would have had ridiculous synergy, and the fact that he went with a set of low-tier power armor, a single weapon, and a bike he never used in combat cemented my contempt. He was useless as a hero, and even as someone with super-powers he was an utter failure, in the same tier as Skidmark in terms of utilizing his capability.

I mean, he was good friends with Dragon, or as much as that AI had friends, who SPECIALIZED in mech suits. If he could get over himself and collaborate? They did a bit in canon, but with a bit more creativity, he might be able to go toe to toe with an Endbringer that wasn't just playing with it's food. Fully outfitted, he might be able to bloody Scion's nose! I sighed, visions of miniaturized railguns better suited to naval battleships which used the kinetic recoil to power energy weapons dancing in my mind, along with dozens of other concepts. If I could trust Armsmaster, I could quite easily give him all the fame and respect he wanted with a few suggestions, but then again, if I could trust Armsmaster, the plot would have been much different. I gave a mirthless chuckle. It's the hallmark of good vs. evil; evil might be more powerful individually, but good can cooperate without reservation, which carries the day. As I mused philosophical my phone rang.

Not recognizing the number, I asked "Vejovis of the Penumbral Defenders, do you need a Hero?" That works better I thought.

It was Taylor, who promptly yelled "I'M NOT JOINING THESE ASSHOLES!"



Herb and I met her a couple blocks away from Fugly Bob's because honestly, it was the only restaurant that I actually knew about that she would as well, that also served comfort food. Herb and I landed in front of Taylor, still suited up like I'd asked, literally buzzing with irritation.

"I'm not go-" she started angrily, only to be cut off by my upraised hand and my command of "Stop! Have you eaten since I dropped you off?"

"What?" she asked, confused. "No, but-"

"Then we're not going to talk about this until we get something to eat!" I told her. "We have-" Herb looked away uncomfortably. "I haven't either, and I can get a bit irritable if I'm hungry, so we're gonna get some food, eat it, and only then are we going to talk about the difficulties a hero would have being sounded out by a team of teenage villains. I will listen to what you say, and if by the end you still don't want to, I won't press you to go back, but we're going to eat first. Now, can you eat in your helmet or do you need to take it off?"

I could practically taste her stubbornness and desire to tell me off, but her grumbling stomach, along with my own grumbling stomach, which I may have made a teensy bit louder than was natural, gave her enough time to reply instead of instinctually responding, even if it was just a mulish shake of her head.

Walking into the restaurant, leaving her swarm in the alley, all eyes immediately turned to us and the conversation died. An older waitress approached us, trying to put on a brave front as the younger waitstaff froze like spooked rabbits. "Party of 3?" she asked hopefully.

I smiled and waved her off. "Actually, I was wondering if we could get our order to go." Looking over I saw someone, probably thinking they were subtle, film us with a phone camera. I loved them so much, they made for free publicity for actual Heroes. "We're the Penumbral Defenders. We're new in Brockton Bay and we heard Fugly Bob's was practically an institution, so I thought we'd get some food from here for a team meeting. Would that be okay?"

The waitress blinked, nonplussed for a moment, before nodding and grabbing three menus for us. I heard Taylor's intake of breath as she moved to wave off the menu, probably to give her order and smoothly pushed it into her hands, talking over her. "Lady Bug," I admonished kindly, making sure to put a pause between the two words. "I know you're trying to watch your figure but please at least look at the menu, before you make a decision. I know this wasn't your first choice, but humor me." Feeling her confusion, I opened it for her and put it right in front of her, so it at least looked like she was looking at it behind her one-way lenses.

Turning to Herb I asked. "Break, any idea what Enter would want?"

He considered the menu for a second before responding. "Knowing him, a Challenger. Shit, I'll have one too."

I nodded, "Sounds good to me as well."

The waitress looked at us. "Um, they're only free if you eat them here."

I laughed kindly, getting a look from Herb and turning down the good humor before I went full Alex Louis Armstrong. "We'll pay the full price. We're capes, so we burn more energy than normal. The challenge wouldn't be fair and we have the money."

"I'll have a cheeseburger and a coke," Taylor added, handing back the menu.

"It'll be a few minutes," she told us, making her retreat.

I smiled at her retreating form, motioning for the three of us to stand off to the side to let people walk in and out. The sense of confusion and curiosity from Taylor was like a beacon, so I turned, presenting my back to the cameras and moved my head next to hers, whispering in her ear "If you don't need to look at the menu, that means you've been here before, and I'm trying to obscure your possible identity."

Her confusion changed to shock, realization, and a little bit of fear, none of it expressed in her body language as she kept still. "But, I could have looked it up online, or figured that this place would serve cheeseburgers. What you said meant you could've been here," she replied, trying to find a way to excuse her almost-mistake.

I shook my head, keeping the sounds of our conversation from leaving a bubble around us. "But that's not what people would think. Managing perception is not about what could be, but what probably is. I led with hearing about this place, and The Challenger is on their marketing. Also, by ordering one to go, I can come here and as long as I don't order one, it obviously isn't me. After all," I laughed quietly. "I payed full price for the Challenger without blinking, suggesting that I could eat it in one sitting easily. A regular burger would be a snack in comparison for someone like that. Now, we're being filmed, so pretend to laugh quietly and nod your head when I step away." I gave her a second to process before stepping back, smiling broadly as I turned to face the restaurant, dropping the bubble as she chuckled and nodded. Herb gave me questioning look as I waved a hand at him. "I'll tell you the joke when we get back," causing him to nod.

"You're jokes aren't that funny man, not like mine!" he declared. And this is why we work so well together I thought.

"Pffft," I waved him off, "Lady Bug thinks my jokes are funny, don't you?" I asked turning to her.

"Umm," she responded, not sure how to respond. "Kinda?"

I put a hand to my chest in mock hurt. "But you laughed? Were you just humoring me? Alas, such is my lot in life!" turning my back to the two of them, smiling as I huffed.

"No, wait, Um, they were funny!" she tried, obviously confused.

"No, no, it's too late, you've made your thoughts clear!" I turned back to the two of them, Herb repressing his laughter at Taylor's struggling to keep up with what was going on. "Just kidding Lady, I know you think I'm funny."

She looked between the two of us before crossing her arms. "That wasn't funny." She told us, the feelings of betrayal and hurt coming from her strongly over the bug control.

I patted her on the shoulder, sending back feelings of apology and feeling bad for something done wrong accidentally, "Lady, it's just joking around. Maybe in poor taste, but relax."

Herb nodded, "Oh my darling, please relax, life's too short!"

She glanced between us, probably glaring, but I couldn't tell with her helmet. "Fine. Where's our food."

A few minutes later, I payed our order with a pilfered hundred from the Merchants, telling her to keep the change, handed the bag to Herb, and the three of us walked out, thanking the waitress as we left. Outside there was a group of people, watching and filming us. Ah, the paparazzi I thought as I offered my arm to Herb and Taylor, waiting for both of them to link theirs through mine before taking off and heading southeast towards the commercial sector. Alighting on the rooftop of an office building, I blanketed the top with insects for a minute, feeling out the two security cameras and obscuring them, buzzing slightly to mess with sound while I wrapped us all in the acoustic bubble I was quickly becoming proficient with. I motioned for everyone to sit and handed out the food, looking at the frankly massive burgers Herb and I had gotten. Shrugging I got started only to be interrupted by Taylor's indignant question of "What was that about?" From the tone she'd been stewing on it the entire flight here.

I finished my bite. "You're gonna have to be more specific." I looked up, seeing her mask still on. "I've blocked the security cameras, you'll be fine."

"You, with that plans, and then you're joking and making fun of me. What was going on?" she demanded as she took off her mask, her eyes oddly bright.

Herb looked at me. "This is all you," he unhelpfully told me before taking another bite as he reclined against an air vent. "Damn this is good."

I looked at her and repressed an instinct to go give her a hug. She looked like she needed one, and given she'd probably had two serious fights already, she was probably drained, and not up for the back and forth yet. Yep I thought. Too much too fast, she's not used to dealing with the concept of personality masks and all that shit.

I motioned for her to take a bite, and waited for her to do so before continuing. "I plan, it's what I do, and growing up I . . . had problems with people. Understanding them, relating to them, the whole deal. So, I started studying them, and it took me the better part of two decades, but I've broken down interactions to what they are, and like any science, once you understand it you can work with it."

"Sounds like a freakin' supervillain when he explains it, doesn't he?" Herb asked between bites, getting a tenuous nod from Taylor.

I sighed, putting down my burger as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Damnit Herb, you do the same thing, you just picked up the skills naturally. Most people do to some extent, but psychological trauma retards that process, stopping it completely sometimes, but like anything the use of intelligent thought can overcome those problems. It might not work in the same manner, but it has the same results. I was explaining to Taylor that if she ordered without looking at the menu, it made her look like a regular, which would hint at her identity as a native, as well as my rationale for having us all order Challengers, letting us come back later without suspicion as long as we didn't order those. Isn't that why you did that?" I asked.

He laughed. "Nah, I just wanted to see if I could eat that big-ass burger, but that works too!" He looked at her, "But he's right about lookin' at the menu. Leave no signals. And as for the joking around, didn't mean anything by it. Darlin', you've really got to maintain."

"But it sounded like. . ." she responded, looking down at her food, trailing off as I felt the emotional hurt from her.

"Like something the bitches that tormented you might do?" I asked gently. She didn't look up, just nodded. "I won't go into it right now, but there's nothing intrinsically wrong with social manipulation. I thought that for a bit and lost all my friends, not realizing that everyone does it all the time without realizing. It, like all things, is flavored by the intent, but again, not the point," I stated.

"And he doesn't do it to his friends," Herb added. "We just get the bad jokes."

"What?" I asked confused. "Duh! Well, I'm honest about it. It's only common courtesy. They're honest with me and trust me so how could I be anything but the same in return? That's-" I cut myself off with a facepalm, my own stupidity slapping me in the face like an errant trout. "Right, emotional damage due to betrayal not healed, compounded by the falling of an idol and the death of a dream, finding new friends, and probably two separate combat encounters, one without backup, on top of the normal feminine conditioning package. I'm a fucking moron."

I stood up and walked over to her, gently taking her food and putting it off to the side before sitting down next to her and putting an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against me. "I won't betray you, nor will Herb, and if he does I'll kick his ass. I'm. . . not exactly normal." I glanced at Herb waiting for the joke, but it never came. "I know that, but when I don't have to put up a performance for those that would mean us ill, and I'll do my best to be as clear as possible. I know this has been a hell of a day, and while most of them won't be this bad, some of them will be. You'll get stronger from this though, to the point that you can press on and be there. Think of it like jogging. Today you ran a marathon, having to do the occasional sprints at school because of your tormentors, but otherwise not that much. There are days that will be this bad, hell, I can't promise some of them won't be worse, but you'll be stronger, and you won't be doing it alone. We'll be there for you, okay? We have goals we can't tell you yet, and things we can't tell you either, but that's because of your current mission. It's the best way to save the Undersiders, but again, if by the end of tonight you don't want to, Herb and I'll figure out another way to do it."

I sighed, carefully not paying attention to her face, not paying attention to her feelings through the connection, not wanting to intrude while she was vulnerable. "I will do my damndest to never lie to you, and any manipulations will be to help. Seeing your friend isn't feeling good, so you talk to them and distract them from whatever's bugging them? That's a manipulation, but one done from kindness, not malignance. Herb and I both have problems because we use words in the way that we've come to understand them, not necessarily the popular conception, though we both try not to do so around people that don't understand. So, I manipulate people, so does everyone, but I would never do so to hurt you, and if you were to ever ask why I was doing something, I'll tell you, or at least tell you why I can't tell you. I promise, and I do my damndest not break promises I give my friends."

"He doesn't," my friend added, watching us both with a smirk for some reason. "Even if it sounds fuckin' stupid."

"Thank you Herb," I responded rolling my eyes. "So, you okay?" I felt her nod. "Do you want me to let go?" A shake no this time. "Okay, let's eat, calm down, and you can tell us about your meeting the villain. It sounds like it might've gone worse than I thought, but let's discuss it after we've clogged our arteries and give our enhanced physiology a run for it's money." That earned a choked laugh and I considered it a win.

I had Herb pass me my burger and worked on it one handed, getting three-fourths of the way through it before putting it down. Putting myself in a food coma when my teammate needed me wouldn't be ok.

I waited for her to finish and pull away from me, rubbing at her face before I went to talk, interrupted by an impressive belch from my friend. Looking over at him I couldn't help to ask "Dear lord man, did you actually eat the whole thing?"

He shrugged, smiling and unrepentant. "Sooo fuckin' good man, but I'm full."

"Wait, when you were talking about parahumans needing more energy, that was true?" Taylor asked, eyes wide.

I wiggled my hand in a 'kinda' gesture. "Have you seen any fat capes that weren't fat because of their powers? When you get your powers, you get a tune-up, healing terminal conditions, fixing you up, so on. Part of that seems to be a higher energy consumption, so you might still be able to get fat, but not without concerted effort."

"But. . .?" she asked, hand touching her glasses self-consciously.

I shrugged. "Not sure why it doesn't fix that. Maybe because you don't need to see to use your powers? Who knows, I've got a plan to fix that, but not for at least a month," I replied offhandedly.

"Wait what?" she asked, shocked.

"Dude, enough!" Herb groaned from behind me. "Let her talk or we'll be here forever!" He turned to address her. "Taylor darling, we've a lot of plans to help you, maybe other people, but why am I here to meet you. Other than that delicious Burger," he added as an afterthought.

"Sorry," I replied chagrined. "So, you met the Undersiders, which, despite their various hang-ups, are good people. Honestly if it wasn't for Herb's desire to take this subtly, I'd've gone for a straight recruitment pitch. I don't trust them like I do you or Herb, but we could do good work together."

"Nah man," my friend told us, "not right now, they're too loyal."

I looked at him confused. "Really?"

He nodded to himself, explaining, "I think the only one who isn't loyal, is Tattletale." After a moment of thought I nodded in agreement as Taylor cast a questioning glance that looked confused as I had first felt.

"They don't seem that loyal to anyone," she informed him.

"Grue is loyal because of Aisha," He explained.

"Who?" She asked, glaring at us tiredly as we both laughed. "What? What's so funny?"

"You'll get the joke when she triggers," I explained. "But I see your point, Regent wants to keep a low profile because of the villain looking for him, who, just saying, I'm gonna snipe him." Taylor looked horrified, but I just shook my head. "Not gonna say who, because you might give it away, but the only reason he doesn't have a Kill Order on his head is the chaos it would cause, the damage of which would be less than he's doing long term, but hey, governments, no one wants to take responsibility when they can kick the can down the street. Or roll the snowball down the hill for a more apt metaphor."

Herb nodded. "Hell yeah, no way I'm getting close to him." He turned to Taylor. "How did things go with Bitch?"

"Um," she started nervously. "I think I established dominance?"

"How? Herb inquired.

"Well," she started, shrinking in on herself.

"You kicked her ass, didn't you?" He grinned evilly.

Taylor blinked, looking between the two of us. "You knew that would happen?" she asked, trying to get upset, but only managing moderate annoyance.

"Are you injured?" I asked, dodging the question.

"Uh, no? Should I be?"

"Original timeline? Yeah," I responded guilelessly. "But we're here now, so the ripple effects have started. Even if you had been, I could've healed you up easily. What happened?"

"Well, I kept what you said in mind," she started, looking down. "So, when the dogs came in and attacked me I hit them in the face, muzzle, with my Baton, and did again when they got up and went for me, and then asked Bitch what she was doing, and smiled, like you told me, with teeth, and she tried to hit me for hurting her dogs when they fucking attacked me!" She was getting incensed, anger burning away tiredness as she clenched her fists, while I kept the insects over the cameras instead of the mindless rage she was trying to spur them into unconsciously. "So I hit her in the face with my baton, and then she tried to call her dogs on me so I hit her again, and then the dogs come on anyways and who does that when they're trying to recruit someone, and then Grue did that darkness, thanks for the heads up, and then I decided fuck that because even if you said they're good," She shot us an accusing glare, "I'd never normally hang out with people that attack strangers but it all sorta worked out and she apologized and we might be okay?" she finished weakly, her torrent of words trickling down, as her energy crashed, leaving her more wrung out looking than she had before. "Are you sure these are good people?"

"For measures of good," I hedged. "They're honorable, and loyal if you do right by them, and at worst they deserve juvenile detention and some serious counseling." She looked incredulous. "No really, the only villains in town that are worth turning to the side of the angels are the Undersiders, Faultline's Crew, and they barely count as villains, Purity, Night, Fog, Rune and maybe Othala.

"Ah, Purity," Herb mumbled into his fries, not able to help himself as he ate a bit more.

"Of them, the Undersiders are the surest for turning good," I continued, ignoring my partner and regaining her attention. "as they did turn good, will do so, might do so, future tenses are weird."

Taylor slowly turned her gaze to Herb. "Aren't some of them E88? Wouldn't having them join with Herb be. . . bad?"

"Oh, so bad, but such a challenge," Herb reassured her to little effect.

"Purity left E88, though she's still a racist it's more of a worldview, one that's reinforced by dealing with the ABB instead of a full-on religion. Night & Fog are heavily brainwashed to be living weapons, which is both fucked up and means we might be able to help them. Rune became a Neo-Nazi after her parents, who escaped E88, left her to rot in juvenile detention where she was put in solitary confinement so long she triggered, which is illegal by the way. She suffered a slow torture to your few hours of bio-hell. Either way her parents abandoned her, so she joined the group they hated, which is such classic teenage rebellion that it hurts, but that shit makes for a weak foundation. Othala, I don't know that much about, but I'd like to meet her once just to get a feel for her."

"What about Cricket?" Herb asked. "You forgot her."

I rolled my eyes. "No Herb, I didn't, she's not gonna join willingly." I ignored both his hmmph of "defeatist," and her horrified expression to continue. I mentally thanked Herb for breaking the building tension, one I hadn't realized had been present until it was gone. "That's for the villains. We can discuss the rest when you've had more rest." I looked her in the eye. "The Undersiders are rough around the edges, but they're worth saving. If you don't want to, we'll find another way to do it. I'm not gonna pull that 'well I gave you a choice and you made your decision' bullshit about this. I trust you to think about it and be honest, and I'll respect that. For tomorrow at least, can you keep going with your undercover op? It's harder than you thought, but we're here to support you."

She took a deep breath before nodding. "I can," she stated, turning around to get her mask, murmuring to herself, my sound control kicking in automatically to hear her tell herself "Was gonna do it on my own, I just have fr- teammates now." I wanted to correct her, but that would result in me outing my power, so I let the comment pass, thinking about the implications.

"So Herb," I addressed him instead. "You okay with me dropping you off near the docks while I take Taylor home before her dad gets home?"

He nodded slyly, laughing to himself. "I'll be fine, fly the girl home."

I rolled my eyes as I offered my arm to her, taking off into the night sky.



I left Herb as we sped towards her house. "It's. . ." she started, before turning to look at me. "It's this way. Do you know where I live?" she tiredly asked me, sounding miffed. I rolled my eyes. "Yes Taylor, I know your dad's name and have access to the white pages and a map. I know where you live."

"White pages?"

"It's like the yellow pages for people. You didn't know what it was? Really?" I shot a look back at her.

"How old are you?" she asked. "I think you're younger than Herb, but. . .?"

"I'm in my mid-twenties."

"Oh. Okay." Was all the response I got.

I wanted to press her on that, but the last thing I needed was for her to be so surprised and tired that she let go and fell. Looking down at what I thought was her house I saw a car pulling into the driveway. "Um, Taylor, is that your dad?" I queried with trepidation.

She looked down as well, stiffening. "Oh no," she breathed. "I'm in so much trouble."

I looked at the situation and weighed it, calling the risk as acceptable I told her. "I've got a way to get you in, but I need you to close your eyes, and don't open them until two seconds after you hit your bed. Okay?"

She looked at me, interest warring with tiredness. "Do you have a fourth power? No one has four."

"Can't tell you because of Tattletale," I stated. "Decision time, yay or nay?"

"Yes," she said, "eyes closed do it."

With that I poured on the speed, shifting to Shadowform as I barreled through the sky, skimming low over rooftops. She stiffened as the world faded, but said nothing, not reacting as I took us straight through the window into her room. I turned and dropped her, her body shifting from the full color she was when I took her with me to the desaturated view of the rest of the world as I passed back out the window, flicking out with Aerokinesis to ring the doorbell, the sound of it hopefully covering the impact of Taylor hitting her bed. I flew up and out as a man answered the door, looking around before closing it, shaking his head. Drop-off complete I headed back out, happy with how things had turned out.

 

[PublicLee S.]

I originally posted these in response to comments/questions/complaints from SB. I'm posting them in the order I posted them there to help clarify questions that may arise.

So, to start, the main character (and maybe myself as well) has a massive chip on his shoulder when it comes to authority reaping the benefits of a position while derelicting their sworn duty, hence why while he rags on the "good guys", he wouldn't want to take them down, just get them to follow their own stated rules. He's also judging people not by their history, which he doesn't know that much as the main story never really goes into detail about it, but on what they will do, arguments about pre-crime notwithstanding. So You have a hearty helping of unreliable narrator, but when he/I complain about the PRT and Protectorate, you need to remember that the only instances we see of them in Canon are Brockton Bay, where I think WOG is that Cauldron let it get out of hand as an experiment in how a parahuman dominated environment would turn out with an ineffective governing body, and Vegas, which was corruption personified. Los Angeles, New York, hell probably even Boston are better, and way along the story, probably during the period normally covered by the timeskip, the Penumbral Defenders will try and extend their reach and run face first into PRT offices that actually do their job, and they'll need to adapt to having a competent authority to deal with, after being seriously shocked.

As for the comment about Armsmaster being well liked, I'd say he's respected by the other heroes, but I don't remember anything in canon where people actually liked him on a personal level. At most his failing got blamed on his Tinker-ness, rightly or wrongly, but people don't pull glory stealing and attempted murder by breaking the single immutable law of capes (Enbringer Truces), while simultaneously trying to frame the victim of their attempted murder for committing a crime they say is just as bad, when the victim did it by accident, and mostly because they were being denied any information and getting screwed with, out of no where. I will heartily agree that Lee, and Herb to a lesser extent, are being particularly hard on him, but it's not without at least a few good reasons, even if they haven't happened yet. As for the heroes, you run into the one problem any story where young people are the protagonists has to deal with. Be it Harry Potter, Naruto, Worm, hell even Twilight and Maximum Ride, the adults, specifically the people in authority can'tdo their job, because if they did it would never be up to the kids/teens to save the day. To this end, they either need to be absent, malicious, incompetent, or there needs to be a lot more going on than the protagonists realize, and the people in authority are doing everything they can to help, it just isn't enough.

One of the underlying themes of Worm is that the people in authority can't, or won't, do their job, so you need to learn to be self-reliant and maybe have some friends you can rely on. Except for Dragon, who's an AI, I can't think of anyone of the adult "heroes" that you see truly deserve the name. I'm discounting the Wards, because they ultimately answer to the Protectorate, who stops them from helping too much. To start with, Armsmaster has to hit rock bottom so hard he bounces, Miss Militia, when the cards are down and Tagg is giving what are almost assuredly illegal orders just goes with it, which hasn't been an acceptable excuse since the 40's, if then, Battery is kinda cool, but gets offed by the S9 before she has more development, and everyone else has bit parts, with not enough screen-time to make definitive positive statements about their character. This pattern repeats with every adult in authority in the entire work. Teachers at the high school? I have friends who are high school teachers, and not reporting what Taylor goes through in a single week, could get their teaching licenses revoked. Cops? Never seen to help in any meaningful way. Government heroes? See previous statement. New Wave? I honestly can't recall if Lady Photon has a single line of dialog in a series three times longer than War and Peace. Hell, even the Triumvirate themselves, the best of the best, fight the protagonist at almost every step while in-scene and are massive assholes when they do so. The reason Taylor has to go Khepri at the end is because the adult led Cape Illuminati leaned so hard on a planning ability they knew Scion and the Endbringers were immune to, ALL of their plans to save the world, the reason why they excused themselves for committing countless atrocities, were utterly useless.

In the End Tattletale, who was maybe eighteen, did a lion's share of the planning, Panacea, who was similarly aged, was vital in enacting it, and Taylor, who was 17, had to practically mind rape the adults so they would work together to save everyone. It's not a nice writing convention, and hell, Herb and Lee, both adults, are going to stand out so starkly and ruin canon completely, not just because of their future knowledge, but because they are going to serve as, admittedly faulty, supports for the rest of the younger main cast to lean on and get the help they so desperately need. Unfortunately, (thought without it at all there is no story) everyone who was supposed to give their support to the main cast either refused to, was unable to, or never noticed they needed it in the first place. The "for want of a nail" potential of Worm is ludicrously high because of this, which is ultimately what led to this stories' creation. Sorry for the rant, this is just how I see it, and I'm passionate enough about it to write (currently) 111,450 words to that effect via fanfiction.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.5

Walking into the base I nodded to Boojack, who was munching down on the extra Challenger. "Thanks man! You're the best, I was getting the munchies hardcore!" I laughed and gave him a thumbs up as I walked over to the computer room to grab a laptop to work on.

"So, walk your girlfriend home?" Herb asked, not looking up from his computer as he worked on something.

"Okay, one, not my girlfriend. She's like, 15, I think. Well past the acceptable limits of the creepy rule of dating. Two, yeah, we got there right as her dad was getting home," ignoring his snort of laughter, "but I managed to drop her off while distracting Danny by ding, dong, ditching him." I defended. "Only thing on the docket right now is the bank heist, and that's not for a couple of days at the very least, maybe a week. I can't remember. You have any plans?"

"Fuck bitches, get money!" was his immediate reply.

I just stared at him. "That sounds like a reference, but I don't get it. Any actual goals?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Ya' need me for anything?"

"Not really, but if something comes up I'll call you. I'm planning on meeting our lawyers, setting up PR, doing some patrols, and maybe hitting up a gang business to make some money to pay off our debt. You know, team upkeep things."

"Yeah, that's why you're the lead." He said, looking over at me. "I don't want to deal with any of that shit."

Nodding I told him. "Thanks for helping me there. I didn't realize how we were piling up everything on her like that."

"No big, she's more like you than me, but she ain't used to this shit. She didn't choose the cape life, the cape life chose her, but she needs time. Also- nevermind."

"What?"

He thought, obviously choosing his words carefully. "You're kinda. . . intense. I'm used to it, so's Boo 'cause he's made from me, just, be careful, 'kay?"

"Um, okay?" I replied, not really knowing what the hell he was referring to.

"You'll figure it out," he waved me off, turning back to. . . was that porn? Nope, not gonna ask I thought as I turned around and left, laptop in hand as I looked up on how to make a low tech pitching machine, putting it together outside so I could call on my insectile handymen to help.

After a few hours of power practice I wandered inside, grabbing my leftovers and noting that everyone had long since gone to sleep. I considered joining them. I didn't need to sleep, but it had been a while. Shaking my head, I went back out and continued deflecting projectiles, maybe later.



It took nearly eight straight hours, pushing through boredom and distraction, but I was able to finally get a handle on Stormtiger's projectile deflection to the point I could use it automatically, like a muscle I could stretch, a bit distracting to keep going, but something that would do better with time. By the end I'd built something to fire a gun I'd pulled from some Merchants, and used it to fire bullets at me, deflecting them wildly at first, but making the margin closer and closer as I worked, using Glory Girl's shield to tank the shots I didn't quite deflect. All of this was while I wrapped in an acoustic bubble to keep the sound from gathering attention. Finishing up, I was collecting the small hill of spent brass when I had an idea. Taking the gun, focusing on it, I wrapped it in a sound bubble, and pointed it at the wall I'd pock-marked with hundreds of bullets. Picking a part that made a pattern, I concentrated on the gun and fired, nudging the bullet mid flight to hit my target. I was a bit off, but could get the sense of feedback, which caused me to smile, the only sound from attempt being the sound of the impact. This, I decided, was something to work on later.

Making breakfast for the crew, leaving the pancakes in the warming drawer and a note on the table, I left for my lawyer's office, which was set to open pretty soon. Flying over, stopping an early morning mugging, and saving an actual cat from a tree (apparently a thing that actually happened), I made it right at the time on the website listed, walking in to be greeted by an elderly man behind a desk. A few minutes later I was seated in a meeting room with a cup of coffee, one of the senior partners on the way. I shrugged and pulled out my phone, seeing that I still hadn't received a response from the Rogue that was probably my father, I sent another, this one making oblique references to his origin, and computer support, his job before we were all dragged to this place. Sending it off the door opened and a man walked in with the bearing of a professional. Mid-30's, dark hair, Latino, what struck me immediately was the thin burn scar across half his face.

"You!" I called, pointing at him as I finally realized why this law firm sounded so familiar. This was the guy who tried to help Taylor when she turned herself in!

The man in question froze, just for a second. "Me?" he asked, walking further in and setting down his briefcase. "Have we met before?" If he was nervous, he didn't show it.

Shaking my head, I apologized. "Sorry, I just remembered why this law firm sounded familiar. I don't actually remember your name, sorry, but I've heard good things."

He nodded in response. "I'm glad we have that reputation. My name is Quinn Calle, of Eldington, Raul, & Calle, and I assume you're the hero that dropped that bomb on us yesterday? Vejovis?"

I smiled in return. "Yeah, I was planning on doing it myself, but I don't know parahuman law, or how to deal with the PRT in a, in that way so I figured I might as well contact professionals. Did you enjoy the videos?"

"The multiple camera angles were a nice touch," he acceded. "Though if you had been the one to instigate violence, it would have spoken of pre-meditation. Who was the person in black, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The Lady, Bug." I told him, "She's a probationary member of the team for- Do we have lawyer client privilege?" I broke off, double checking.

He smiled. "Yes we do, and thank you for asking."

"Good," I wrapped us a sound bubble. "As I was saying she's currently going forward with her plan to infiltrate the Undersiders, a teenage villain team, with us for support. Their boss has an agent in the PRT and I'd rather not clue him in. She'd survive, but it wouldn't be pleasant. We know enough that we could probably strike once we locate his base, but we're trying to flip the lower level villains first."

He let out a breath. "That's interesting. I was going to tell you that you might not need our firm's services directly, but it appears I was in error. Anything else you think I need to know?" he asked with a grin.

Never one to miss a straight line, I didn't miss a beat. "I'm a healer, and managed to get kicked out of Brockton Memorial for the temerity of assuming they'd at least pay for my lunch when I healed close to a hundred patients for free. The video is out there somewhere of the confrontation, and if you think you have a case to sue them, by all means go ahead. Of note is that I'm in contact with a paranoid precog who occasionally gives me information on where to go or warns of upcoming danger, but never in a way that's actually helpful in stopping it. Something about time paradoxes and the rending of space-time. Only thing I have right now is that you probably shouldn't go anywhere near ABB territory for a couple of weeks, starting in a few days. No idea why, other than 'It'll get suddenly weird, repeatedly'."

I smiled at the look on his face. "Well," he responded, voice neutral. "All right then. You seem like the kind of client that will make my firm a good deal of money. You do have enough money to pay for the hours we will undoubtable accrue, correct?"

I shrugged. "If I don't, the Merchants, ABB, & E88 will. Though my healing ability will help there, as I was planning to use that in a manner similar to a Rogue. Basic trauma I can handle, but I need Panacea to double check my work for anything internal as she has diagnostic capabilities I lack. Ironically though, I've discovered that my abilities for minor plastic surgery are quite strong. Do you mind if I demonstrate?"

I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes, quickly restrained as he appeared to think about it before giving a single, professional nod. Pulling off my glove, I looked at the side of his face which was unblemished, fixing it in my mind. I could have just touched his hand, but I couldn't help but go for the flare of the dramatic as I drolly told him, "There's something on your face, let me get that for you." Reaching up I made a brushing motion, trying to do it in stages, but it all changed at once. Nevertheless I finished the motion before taking my hand back stating, "That's better," as I put my glove back on.

He smoothly took out his phone, turning on the camera, a slight quiver in his hand the only thing betraying his state of mind. Turning it on he stilled, before turning his head back and forth, raising one hand to brush his new, unblemished cheek. "How long will this last?" he asked carefully.

I shrugged. "As long as skin would normally last, I copied the design of your other cheek and mirrored it. It's less healing and more bio-kinesis, which is why I'm careful with injuries. Sealing the skin and an infection within could kill someone if I'm not careful, and the nightmarish things I could do if I didn't care about human life would, well, the Slaughterhouse 9 may consider recruitment. Hence I call it healing, for PR reasons."

He looked up at me. "Is Panacea like you?"

I gave him a cool stare. "No, she's much better, but a healer, nothing more, and someone I would quite dislike being slandered with any untoward accusations, understood?" I smiled, with teeth.

"Of course. And you wish for us to arrange this. . . Healing?" he smiled back, his friendly.

I nodded. "I'm free most nights, though may need to cancel. If I do, I'll probably give you a warning to lay low. If I tell you to leave the city, get your family and do so. Trust me, sometimes I only get a few hours warning, but you'd not want to be stuck somewhere like Canberra."

"You mean you,-" he started.

"Wasn't there, but my contact should be able to predict things of that magnitude, though not reliably." I cut him off. "But, and this is important, you can get you and yours out, but do not tell others. You are, no offence, a minor enough player that it won't change that much, but if your actions from my warning disrupt the future enough, people will die, and that will be the last warning you get. I'm sorry I have to be like this, but I'm taking a risk giving you even that."

He leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. "Can I tell the other partners?"

"Will they tell 'just a few more' people, or actually stop it there?" I shot back.

He nodded. "Just Raul then. Damn." He shook his head. "Thank you, you are being most helpful. Unusually helpful." He mused. "I must say, if this a recruitment pitch, I'm going to have to turn you down."

I laughed. "Of course, it's not, you're already working with me, and I wouldn't be so silly as to try any of those 'offer you can't refuse' traps with a lawyer. You're trained to wriggle out of contracts, and make them wriggle proof. You're the one who'd draft contracts others would sign, it would be the height of stupidity to try to abuse you." I stood up, extending my gloved hand to shake. "I hope this is the beginning of a profitable endeavor, please e-mail me when you have clients ready. I trust you'll do right by me, and I will return the favor."

Shaking my hand, he responded. "Yes, I think it will be." He paused, mulling something over. "Forgive me if this offends, but you do actually seem like some of my regular clients."

I considered the statement, understanding that it was not meant with malice, merely as an observation and question of intent. "That might be true," I finally told him. "But villains don't save the world."



I left the office behind, with a request for them to look into a PR agency I could use. As I flew around downtown, relaxing as I made my way back towards base in an ambling manner I spotted a flash of white around where the northern ferry station was located, moving in closer I saw something that almost hurt to look at. A woman, outlined in white. My Sight kicked in and I saw what could only be Purity, her light dampening as the fire of her power bloomed to the point that I could see her face, which was less attractive than I thought, and twisted in rage. Her power collected and concentrated light, shifting her in a manner similar to Shadow Stalker, only tuned differently. However, the shift somehow cost light from an internal reservoir itself to manifest, as did pulling matter from that dimension, which she was using to attack the gangbangers below her, shooting up at her.

It was hard to keep a bead on her as she flew back and forth, dodging and weaving around the buildings, but a bird's eye view let me track her as I copied her power. It burned in my chest, wanting to activate, but I clamped down on it, as it would have been way too obvious. Instead I flew down to ground level, following her trail of destruction, stopping at a few of the more injured gang members to stop them from bleeding out. She darted over me, sending a blast downwards, my Power Sight the only thing giving me warning, the fire collecting around her hands and flaring as she let the projectile go, double helix trails passing right by my head.

Tossing the thug who had been coughing up blood to the side, I ascended, nudging the second projectile out of the way as I rolled past it, coming up to her level, though several dozen feet away, my hands in the air. "Pax!" I called. "Peace! I don't want to fight!"

"Then what were you doing?" she countered, thankfully willing to use words. Is it 'cause I'm white, or because I'm wearing white? My inner comic snarked.

"Making sure the scum didn't die," I responded honestly. "You were going at it pretty hard."

Her face had a moment of worry, and it was apparent that she hadn't realized how hard she was going at it, but more than that, the open honesty of her face told me she wasn't used to dealing with people reading her expression. If that was a personal habit that carried over into her normal life, no wonder Kaiser could play her. "And if they did die, so what? They're barbarians." She defended hotly. I laughed, raising her hackles. "What? They are!"

I held up a hand. "Sorry, it's just, that's what they call us, like, all the time. I appreciate the irony. Also, I hate bringing race into it, but I thought you quit the E88?"

Her power pulsed with her anger. "I have!"

"Then why do you only go after the Asians?" I asked, pointing out the obvious.

"As opposed to who, the Empire? They know who I am, I can't exactly go against them!" she shot back with the speed of practice of someone who had been asked that question, if only by themselves.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized you were a part of the Merchants as well," I replied, voice thick with sarcasm. The shocked look on her face was priceless. "Hit them occasionally, and you can throw it in the face of anyone who cries racism." I advised. "So, is this a random patrol, or do you have a lead? And if so, can I help?"

"I," she started, looking at me, and my exposed face, probably my white skin. "I don't have anything. Do you? Who are you anyways?"

I grabbed a couple of beetles from below, bringing them up and using them to carry over my card. "I'm Vejovis, of the Penumbral Defenders, new hero team, and looking for new members, though this isn't a recruitment pitch."

"Is it because I used to be part of the Empire?" she demanded. "Don't want to taint yourself?"

I reeled back as if struck "Dear god woman calm down! No, it's because you seem kinda upset and I don't like doing the whole 'an offer you can't refuse', 'once you've joined I own you' BS. I was gonna say if you wanted help or wanted to join, call me later once you've had time to think. I don't give a shit even if you were a major part of that gesundheit group back in Germany, if you want to join, be a hero, and not screw us over, then you'd probably be welcome!"

I flew a bit closer, trusting in my shield to tank the first shot if she attacked. "Have you had any support since you left E88? Because if you've been doing this alone, that must've been bad."

She looked at me suspiciously. "You said you weren't recruiting."

I threw my hands in the air. "I'm not, I just have empathy! You look like you need some help, and, overenthusiastic patrols aside, you don't seem like a horrible person, so I was trying to help."

"I look. . ." she echoed, eyes suddenly going wide. "You can see my face!" she exclaimed, backing away.

"Yes, and?" I responded. "I'm not gonna unmask you or anything, I'm not a villain!" But I was talking to air as she took off, faster than I could follow with my standard flight. "Dammnit!" I swore at the empty air.



Landing back at base, I walked back in the door only to see him step out of a glowing rectangle, dirty and blood splattered. "Oh, hey man!" he greeted me. "Cauldron needed some shit done, so yeah. How's your day been?"

I walked up to him, the doorway snapping shut behind him as a voice called "You said it was empty!"

I looked at him questioningly. "Contessa can't see you," he laughed. "So, some of what she said was off. It was pretty funny."

"Are you injured?" I asked, checking him over.

"Nah, I nabbed Enter's power and healed by bustin' some Russians up!" he practically cheered. "And I got paid! I'm now only kinda in absolutely crippling debt if I didn't have powers."

I rolled my eyes. "Sounds like fun, I met with our lawyers. You know the one that defended Taylor from Tagg? It's him, so I fixed his face." I shrugged, "He deserved it."

Herb whistled. "Damn, so, he's gonna like you."

I nodded. "Yeah, I think we went well. Wanna know who else I met?" I asked, grinning.

"Don't keep me in suspense man!" he called, as I activated Purity's power, the world around me lighting up, seeming to oversaturate, the inverse of my Shadowform.

Herb staggering backwards, shielding his eyes! "What the mother pickle fucking Farquhar is going on with . . . You motherfucker! You met Purity without me!" He groused.

I stood there, grinning, "You snooze you loose man, besides, I only talked with her for minute 'fore she ran away."

"You-" He cut himself off, tone serious. "Dude, stop with the light, it's getting annoying."

"Use my Power Sight to look at me," I told him.

"I can't, you're too. Oh." He said looking at me. "I've still only got your powers, but I can see you. Why?"

I shrugged. "No clue, just a quirk of the power. I gave her my card, but may have let slip that I could see her face and she bugged out."

"Dude, why did you do that?" he asked, confused.

"It was a mistake," I acknowledged. "I was kind of doing the entire 'I'm not recruiting you, but I'm giving you all the reasons why you should join, but not actually asking you to join so when you do you're more likely to stick with it' thing, while trash talking Kaiser's methods. I made a comment about how she looked like she was having a tough time, and then she asked if I could see her, so I said I could, 'cause I could, and started to explain how that wasn't a big deal, but she flew the coop before I could finish."

Herb groaned, placing his face in his palm. "That shit only works if they're willing to listen." He told me. "Let me handle her next time."

I grimaced. "Hate to break it to you, but I think she was only willing to give me the time of day because I'm white."

He waved away my response as he headed for his room. Stripping off his dirty costume. "That just makes it more fun!"

I rolled my eyes as I played around with Purity's power, glowing and levitating, not blasting anything because I liked this base. Combining my Light and Shadowform made for an interesting combination, as radiance and darkness played across my body. I tried to put my hand on a table and it went through, but when I tried to bring it back up, my hand thunked into it. Hard. Concentrating on it I realized I could move the light around my body, and only the lit portions were tangible. It took some time, figuring out how to move the lit portions, forming patters and changing setups. Filing that away, I heard my phone ringing, an odd, distorted sound.

Dropping both powers, the sound cleared up, and I answered the phone, for Taylor to answer. "Hi," she asked. "Could we meet?"

"We can be there in a couple minutes. Where, and formal or casual?" I asked. Getting a response and turning to get Herb, I saw that he'd pulled up a chair at the table and had been watching me. "Um," I told him eruditely. "Taylor. . . how long have you been sitting there?"

"Like five minutes," he shrugged. "You've been at it for hours dude, I was gonna say something, but you looked like you're having fun playing with yourself. That Boardwalk?"

"If you add Speed Zones, yeah. It's kinda overkill, with three high mobility powers, but I'm still going with it," I responded absently. "Hours, really?"

"Yeah, you looked super into it, so we didn't bug you." He told me. "Where we going?"

Looking at the clock it wasn't one in the afternoon like I thought, but almost five o'clock in the evening. Something seemed just off about that, but that was something to worry about later. Taylor needed us, and I'd probably lost track of time playing around with a new power. I shook myself, turning a grin to my best friend. "We're going to Panera!"

"Yay?" he inquired, enthusiasm fading, "Panera ain't that great." I gave him a shocked look. "White people," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Sandwiches. Yay."

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.6

Giving him a lift we made it there in a few minutes, walking out an alley in civilian gear. Herb was in cargo shorts and a grey hoodie, while I had had my costume set to look like I was wearing jeans and an unbuttoned red dress shirt, the black t-shirt underneath stating 'This t-shirt was tested on animals. It didn't fit,' and shades to hide my eyes. I could feel Taylor on the street, so leading Herb we met here and headed inside. After getting our food and heading back into the quiet room that these places always seem to happen, I wrapped us in a sound bubble before nodding to her. "We won't be overheard, what's up?"

"Yeah, how was your day at school, my little Chiquita?" Herb asked with exaggerated interest.

She looked down in embarrassment. "I. I didn't go." She said, sounding ashamed. "I spent it with the Undersiders instead." She looked up at me, as if waiting for a response, and afraid of it at the same time.

"Um. Okay?" I shrugged, not seeing the problem. "How did it go?"

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "You're not mad?"

I matched her confusion with my own. "Should I be? It's not like you were learning anything that important. When things calm down I could tutor you and you could get your GED in, like, a month. Less if you want to cheat."

Herb looked at me. "Dude, you're a teacher, shouldn't you be wanting her to go to school?"

I gazed back. "Do you want her to go back to Winslow?"

"Fuck no," was his immediate response, "I just thought. . ."

I waved away his comment, half formed as it was. "If she went to Arcadia then yeah, maybe she should go, but she goes to Winslow. The only reason for her to stick around in that hellhole would be if she had friends in there, and she doesn't. After the tsunami of suck that's gonna hit this town passes I'll want her to get it, just to avoid truancy officers accidentally discovering her identity or something silly like that, but with her abilities, a high-school diploma's not gonna mean that much."

"Wait, what's gonna happen?" Taylor asked intently.

I shook my head. "Sorry. Tattletale."

"Right, her." She frowned. "She knew about you, but she didn't." she told us. At my confused look she elucidated, "She knew I'd been contacted by another team, and when I told them I was just using you, sorry!" she apologized as I waved for her to continue, not worried in the slightest. "She knew a bit about you Herb, but. . . Wait, what's your name?" she asked, shocked.

"Um, what?" I asked.

"You've never told me your name! How come I didn't realize that?" she said to herself before turning to face me with an almost laser-focus. "What is it?"

I smiled as I took off my glasses. "Sorry, I was busy and forgot to introduce myself. I'm going by Lee Elric here, but my actual Name is Lee Rycroft, it is a pleasure to formally meet you Taylor Hebert."

I smirked at her expression until Herb smacked me in the arm. "What?"

"Taking girls home and they don't even know your name. For shame man, for shame," he lamented.

Rolling my eyes, I got her back on topic. "So, Lisa was having trouble with me? Good. Means I haven't let enough slip for her to get a read."

"Yeah, Lee," she stressed, still a bit miffed, "She got a bunch of things wrong, like your age, but got that you were Vejovis, which pissed them off, but then Lisa told them a bit about the fight with Armsmaster, and then we were cool. How did she know about that?"

"Super Intuition." I replied. "I told you this. If you can see the details it's not that hard to figure out, she just is really, really good but on a subconscious level."

"But how?" she asked. "I didn't tell her anything about it and she just knew!"

I leaned back, steepling my fingers as I thought about it. "Your armor had electrical scoring coming from a central point from where Armsdick tossed his lightning generator at you. There aren't any electrical capes in the city, as far as I know, so damage from pure electricity like that had to be Tinkertech, and, unless you got in a fight with the Merchants, which would have resulted in a lot more blunt force trauma and broken armor panels, that meant you fought the Wards or the Protectorate. You were unsure about the entire hero/villain thing the last time she saw you, so there's no reason why you should have met Kid Win, which just leaves Armsmaster, who they know you met with as they probably saw you talk to him as they escaped. The electrical damage would have fried your bugs, and she may or may not have figured out the reason you aren't in custody right now was your spider-silk insulated jumpsuit, us, or a combination of both. Either way, you weren't acting like someone out on the edge without any help, ergo, you have someone backing you up. The problem with her power is that it's really scattershot, and can give her incorrect information with just as much surety as it does hidden truths, but she can use the reactions to bad guesses to make better ones, provided she has someone to work with. Either way, you got in a fight with Armsmaster, and got out okay, but still don't hold yourself with the confidence such a feat would engender if done alone, so, once again, you had to have had help. I've already made news in this town with my confrontation at the hospital, so I'm known, and if she could read you to know that a hero helped her, that meant either the Protectorate, which wouldn't protect you from their leader, New Wave, who wouldn't have stepped in against the PRT for anyone who isn't one of them, or some third option, which right now is just me. She guesses, you respond, even slightly, and she sees you respond to her guess, thus confirming it. This is why there's some things we can't tell you yet."

". . . Yep, supervillain!" Herb declared, breaking my air of calm intelligence as Taylor just stared.

"What, it just makes sense!" I defended. "Besides, I'm working backwards because I know what actually happened. It's a lot harder guessing correctly, which is why she doesn't half the time." Taylor's stare did not lessen. "Enough about her, what about the rest?"

"They're," she paused thinking. "They're not as bad as I thought. They really didn't know that Rachel was gonna do that," she acknowledged. "Brian's nice."

"Hunky, isn't he?" Herb asked with a over the top conspiratorial leer.

"What? I. No!" Taylor stammered. "He's just. . ."

"He's a good Lieutenant, and good backup, but not a leader." I informed her. "Impressive physique aside-Shut up Herb, she knows we're both straight-he can't keep his teammates on task. He's good to have in a fight, and can respond quickly, but he's not someone you can rely on for plans or ideas of any inventiveness or complexity. Also, the guy's got no confidence in his own people. There's a lot of reasons you ended up taking over, even when you desperately didn't want to. He'll be useful if we can flip him to our side, and he'll be happier for it, but I don't have any plans that depend on him for several reasons."

She nodded sadly as Herb shot me an indecipherable look. "Recruiting them. . . Not Bitch, but him, I can kinda understand. Last night." She hesitated. "Last night you said you wanted to recruit heroes too, that it wouldn't just be villains. Who?"

I looked back at her, "Heroes joining the team. . . sorry if I gave the impression if it was going to just be reformed villains. Also, sorry, about laying all that stuff on you last night, I sometimes get caught up in the moment." I looked at Herb for a second as I dredged up my mental list, "I can probably convince Parian and this Neutral Party guy to work with us, or at least for us if we pay them for their services. For heroes that are actually deserving of the title? There's you for one, obviously." I pretended not to notice the pleased embarrassment I felt from her over the bug control. "Panacea, Vista, Clockblocker, though he needs a bit of work, and Gallant definitely. Probably Battery. What little I saw of her didn't disgust me."

Taylor looked at me in silence, before finally asking. "And?"

"And what?" I replied.

"Think she's expecting more," Herb supplied.

I snorted. "Well Armsdick's a nope, for what I hope are obvious reasons, 'I was just following orders' didn't work for the Nazis and it doesn't work for Miss Militia, Triumph's a coward, and Assault is the biggest fucking Hypocrite of the bunch. Dude used to be a villain named Madcap that intercepted vans bringing villains to the Birdcage because he thought it was wrong. I mean he was right, and it's so illegal on so many levels it isn't even funny, I mean at least Guantanamo bay isn't on American Soil, but-."

"Wait, what?" asked Taylor, cutting me off. "What's that."

I stopped, mentally facepalming. I started to relax and forgot I had to keep secrets. "Another different universe thing," I tried to pass off casually.

Unfortunately, that last hint was enough. "You're, you're, it's not that you're talking about things from other dimensions, fuck you're not from this dimension, are you!?" she demanded, jumping back and knocking over her chair and sending her empty drink spilling over the side of the table, scattering ice everywhere.

I sighed putting my head in my hands as Herb shook his head at the situation. "Can't go one goddamned day without fucking up, can I." I looked at Taylor, gesturing for her to sit down. She hesitated, and I sighed, entreating, "Taylor, we're not a threat, and if we were, running wouldn't help, and neither would attacking us, and doing so would unmask you. Please, just have a seat."

She picked up her chair but just put it down between us, my sense of her overflowing with betrayal, anger, and hurt, tightly controlled. "Talk," she demanded.

"Before you do your thing, can you choose your words a little better please?" Herb asked, looking at me in sad concern, before indicating Taylor. "This sweet young thing is just tryin' to do the best she can, and is feelin' a bit out of place."

I looked at him. There was obviously some kind of subtext there, but I'd be damned if I got it. Leaning back, running my hand through my hair I tried to do as he asked. "Let's just put this on the list of things I can't fully explain right now for good reason. Yes, we're probably from another dimension. No, I don't know the specifics. No, we don't want to do anything evil. Shut up Herb. We've seen one possible future for this place, it sucks giant sweaty donkey balls, and we were unexpectedly given the chance to save it. Trust me, when it won't screw you over, I'll tell you how the original timeline went. A LOT of people died. Does that make what we're doing any less real? No. Does it make us Aliens? Only so much as someone from Earth Aleph, or one of the others, are and there are dozens of them running around, most of whom just want to go home. Is there any reason whatsoever to be afraid of us? Maybe, I don't know, but if there is that's not it." I blew out a long breath. "Fuck I suck at keeping secrets."

Herb laughed, "Only from people that you trust." That shocked Taylor out of whatever she was going to say. She debated internally for a few seconds before she retook her seat and made a "go on" gesture, the negative feelings lessened, but still dominant.

I gave a groan before burying my face in my hands. "Okay, our earth, let's call it Earth Omega. There are no capes, it's several years in the future, and terrorism is a thing, New York got hit. The president at the time set up a detainment camp in Cuba that's nine kinds of illegal, but everyone was so scared of terrorist attacks that they went along with it. It's like the Birdcage, without the underlying racism in its creation, and way more military. I really wish I could tell you everything Taylor, I really do, but I can't." I looked up at her pleading, and her anger died down enough for her to give me a single nod. Taking it as, well, I wasn't sure what, I continued. "Back to my original point, Assault, then Madcap, hit the Birdcage transports because what they were doing was so illegal the people who passed the legislation could actually be charged with treason for violating the constitution itself, obstruction of justice, and a whole host of other things with a good chance of conviction. He got caught and joined the Protectorate, where he's done jack all to try and reform the system from the inside. Also, after his wife dies to a villain so bad they have a standing kill order, he takes out his anger on the Undersiders, and you in particular. He can't control his emotions so takes them out on people who did nothing to deserve it. The fact that for him it's anger, while for people advocating Birdcaging it's primarily fear doesn't really mean that much to me. It's the exact same thought process he railed against, but when he's the aggrieved party that makes it okay. It's just a different flavor of Armsdick with the law."

"Okay," Taylor said, obviously following my thought process, but not agreeing or disagreeing. "The rest of the Wards?"

"Aegis and Browbeat weren't featured that heavily in the future we got to see, so I'm withholding judgement until I see more of them,"

She noticed I was leaving one person out. "But what Kid Win?"

"Really?" I asked deadpan. "Hey fellow Wards?" I asked in a cheery, high pitched voice like a demented children's show host. "Wanna what's the bestest of best ideas? Let's take this new untested, unapproved of laser cannon," I stressed, dropping my voice to normal for emphasis, "And use it in a hostage situation against unknown foes I'm sure I won't accidently murder someone with its somehow explosive beam, rip them to shreds with explosions of flying glass, or bring the entire building down, squashing them smaller than my ability to think past my own selfish desires to show off my new tech! That totally makes me a hero!" I gave the disturbed teen a level look. "Most tinkers are shit heroes because of what their power does to their minds. There are exceptions, like Dragon and Hero, but they are exceptions in a very small field. There's a reason the Protectorate has to check and certify all Tinkertech before it's deployed, and that bullshit is exactly why. If that beam had hit anyone without a Brute rating or some unusually effective armor, there's a good chance they might have died. And remember, this is in a god-damned hostage situation. The public would have reacted badly if anyone had, because while Masters and Strangers terrify them the most, unstable Tinkers are a close third, and just like that Kid Win gets Birdcaged because he couldn't stop thinking with his techno-dick."

She made a face. "Techno-dick, really?"

"That is a little x-rated man," Herb reprimanded.

"Yeah, you don't get to talk about obscene," I shot back at him. "And do you have a better metaphor?" I asked her. "It's somewhat uncontrollable, effects their thought process, and can result in at best a slight mess, at worst a lifetime of problems if not handled correctly."

"I was giving you shit before," Herb said, "But that's actually getting messed up."

"But am I wrong?" I pressed.

He winced. "Nooooo?" he gave. "Not really, it's just."

"You didn't think when I called him Armsdick, I meant it literally?" I asked with a grin. I hadn't but it made the name apropos.

"He does love to handle his pole. . . arm." He responded, collapsing into giggles. "It's so true though!"

Taylor, by this time, was turning bright red. "Oh, god," she muttered to himself, negative feelings dispelled. "I'll never be able to look a Tinker in the eye. Oh, god, is that why all the female tinkers have a guy they work for, so they can handle their. . . ewwwwww!"

Herb started to laugh so hard he was having trouble sitting up as I waved to get her attention. "Don't think about it too hard," which sent him off into paroxysms of laughter, falling to the ground as he gasped out "HARD!" only to start laughing again. I sighed. "Right, phrasing. Just focus on the. . . Practically speaking this means that while Tinkers can be useful, and the tech they create pivotal in battle, they're not someone you want on the front lines without a handle-. . . Without someone to keep a. . . without oversight." I finished lamely. "Never as leaders. Brutes have the same thing happen to a lesser extent if they're not careful. Aegis is a good hero, but not the leader material he thinks he is as he forgets how squishy everyone else is. Gallant or Vista would be the best leaders for the Wards. Whether the fact that I think the thirteen-year-old would be a good choice of leader says good things about her, or bad things about the rest of them is up to you and god damnit Herb shut up it's not that funny!"



We cleaned up, heading out and started to part ways, when I remembered something. "Taylor!" I called, jogging back over to her as she turned around. "This is for you," I stated, slipping one of the Base phones out of a pocket and handing it to her. "It's secure, and will let you contact us without having to search for a payphone."

She looked at the cell phone in her outstretched hand, indecision on her face. "I've never had one. I-" she glanced up, seeing my pained expression. "What?"

"Do you want me to be nice or blunt?" I asked.

She thought about it, visibly preparing herself. "Blunt." She told me.

I covered the hand holding the cell phone my own. "It wasn't a cell-phone that killed your mother, anymore than it was the car she was driving. It was inattentiveness, and an overestimation of her ability to multitask," I informed her flatly, ignoring the "Jesus!" of Herb behind me. I tipped my glasses down to lock eyes with her, the hurt visible, but also the glimmer of terrible understanding. "Neither of which are your problem. Yours is that you've been burned so often, you're afraid to lean on others, dreading that their support is just an illusion of your own desperate self-delusion. Remember this Taylor, we're there for you, and honestly, if given the chance to head back to our dimension right now, I'd pass it up. There's too many people who need us here for us to leave."

Stepping back, I pushed my glasses back, turning on my heel and heading towards an alley calling over my shoulder. "Get a good night's sleep my friend, trust me, you'll need it soon enough!" Feeling suitably badass and that the situation had been rectified. I could have sworn that one of the options we all got was to keep anyone from finding out this was a fictional universe. Then again, I mused. When have the rules truly applied to Taylor. Besides, alternate dimension isn't the same as fictional world, so technically it's still working.

Herb said something to Taylor before catching up to me, saying "Ya know, just wait bro, we've gotta talk."

I shot him a questioning look, but at the shake of his head just shrugged, assuming it was mission planning. We flew back in relative quiet, enjoying the bird's eye view of the city before swooping low, making it to our base undetected.

Once inside and in the kitchen, which was becoming our de-facto meeting room, despite having an actual meeting room down the hall, I turned to him. "So, what's up?"

He didn't say anything as he pulled some kind of pastry out from the fridge. "So?" I asked again. "What's up?"

He sighed. "I get you my friend, I get you, I really do. I love you to death for it," It? "But, ya, ya gotta be that shotgun to the face, you can't be that trauma to the heart especially when it comes to young girls."

I sighed in return, having slowly come to the conclusion that the bit at the end might have been a bit much, but it was a necessary evil. "Dude, I asked if she wanted the blunt truth. She's strong enough to take it, and we only have so much time to do so much. I mean, she barely survived in canon, and I'm not sure how things'll go, so she needs to be able to get ahold of us quickly. She's not like most teenage girls, and, let's be honest, if she was, we wouldn't recruit her."

He looked at me for a moment, expression once again indecipherable, before taking a bit out of his pastry, consider both me and it. "You're right, she isn't," he admitted. "but you can send her down the slide instead of pushing her off a cliff."

"Not if I need her to fly, and am there to catch her if she falls. Things are getting so bad they break lesser heroes, and she can't afford to be one." I responded, seeing his point, even if I disagreed with it.

"But does she, does she break?" he asked. "She never does, which is why we're recruiting her first."

At first glance it sounded like he was completely agreeing with me, but his tone was all wrong for that. Thinking it over, as he left me to do so while consuming his pastry. It took a couple passes but I thought I got it. "So. What you're saying is I don't need to worry about her doing ok, because she was okay in the books? But, we weren't in the books man, you can't know that!"

He gave me a look that just seemed to scream 'don't I'?

I groaned, walking over and taking one of his pastries, so I'd get something positive from this. "Fine," I grumbled. "I'll go easier on her. She has the phone now, so if she needs our help she can get it." Unspoken was that just because I was going to go easier on Taylor I wouldn't on the others who needed my help.

He smirked, smug in his victory. "Look, one thing she never had in the book was seriously dependable friends. That's all," before turning and walking off to his room.

After he left, I ate the pastry, which was apparently filled with apple pieces & raisins, which worked for some reason. I wanted to work on my Bug Control, but for some reason my heart wasn't really in it, so I settled for trying to merge my Light and Shadowforms, with limited success, dawn of the next day coming far too early.

 

[PublicLee S.]

Blueprint 3.7

"Lee, you knew this was going to happen!" Were the first words I heard when I answered Taylor's call.

"And a good afternoon to you Taylor, I assume that Lisa has informed you of her boss' plans? Did she call you out for knowing about it ahead of time?"

"Everyone was pretty freaked out, I don't think she noticed," she dismissed, focusing on what she obviously thought was important. "Lee. Did you know?"

"That the Undersiders were going to hit Bay Central at 3 in the afternoon? With how Herb and I have been making waves, I downgraded it to highly probable. As for Lisa, the chance that she missed something bottoms out at 50 percent, but the fact she didn't say anything bodes well." I replied smoothly.

"It's at 1, not 3," was her only retort.

"Noted. Did they give you a rundown on the Wards?" I asked

"Yes, He made sure to tell me what I should expect!"

I rolled my eyes. "And he's not running a delicate operation with his people in contact with ingenue Sherlock Holmes. Besides, his plan is a hot mess that would have failed if you weren't there." I rebuked.

"He obviously was planning on having me there to help!" she shot back.

"Which one of us has seen the future?" I asked. "Also, look up the Halo Effect, it'll explain why you think the hunky beefcake is a paragon of strategic planning because of his muscles."

"Like you have room to talk!" She exclaimed.

I took a deep breath. Scion's Shards push conflict, let it go. "I'll have you know that despite how muscular Herb is, I know he sucks at planning. Definitely more a seat of his pants kind of guy, even if he sometimes gets his ass kicked for it. Now, was there anything you wanted to know that I might be able to tell you?"

I could practically hear the bugs buzzing on the other end of the line. "Is there anything else I should know?"

I honestly couldn't help myself. "Don't drop a spider on anyone with freckles."

"What the hell does that mean!" she exploded.

I suppressed my laughter. "I'll tell you when you're not getting read like an open book every day Taylor, and I do appreciate you doing this for us. I'll be there to help, in my way, as will Herb. All of you will get away, and we'll stop the heroes from doing anything stupid. The original raid was a dumpster-fire of fail, a complete pyrrhic victory in the long run. This one'll go a lot better, and not screw over everyone involved. Okay?"

"Okay," she grumbled. "Thanks."

"Anytime teammate, I need to start the ball rolling, see you tomorrow? I'll be suppressing my bug control, so you don't give it away by accident if Lisa glances your way at the wrong moment and messes it up. And don't worry, you got this."

I thought she might have hung up, before I heard her mumbled "See you," and the click of the call ending. Checking my contacts, I called up Panacea, getting her voice mail. "Hi, Panacea? This is Vejovis. You're probably in school but when you get out, I was wondering if you could help me with something. I wanted to open a bank account at Bay Central, but I have no idea how to do so for my cape identity, and was wondering if you could help me with that this afternoon. Thanks!"

Hopefully with that I could get an account, and come in tomorrow come back with questions in time to be there for the raid. I had a couple plans on how to handle it, depending on how everything played out. I gave a snort of disdain as I thought of Grue's plan. You never had just one plan after all, and his escape method was just 'run like hell'.

Walking over to Herb's room I roused him as he blearily answered the door. "What is it?" he sleepily asked. "It's. . . noon?" he commented, looking back at his clock. "Okay," he conceded. "I'll get ready."

A few minutes later he emerged, suited up and raring to go "Okay, what are we doing? Messin' up the Merchants? Asskickin' the Azn Bad Boys? Explodin' the Empire?"

I looked up from my bagel and lox. "Um, no? We're just gonna talk about what we're doing tomorrow."

He looked quite disappointed about the fact that we weren't going to be enacting violence today, demanding "Then why are you all dressed?"

Looking down I realized I was still in my Vejovis costume, having not changed out of it. "Because it's comfortable?" I remarked, mentally shifting it to civilian clothing. "We can do something today if you want to, my schedule's pretty clear."

"Whatever," he grumbled, raiding the fridge. "So, what's up?"

"Coil's paying the Undersiders to hit Bay Central Bank tomorrow, and we're gonna go make sure that the everything goes off better than canon. What?" I asked at his disbelieving stare.

"How the fuck do you think you're a Hero if you're robbin' a fuckin' bank!" he exclaimed.

"Well, obviously I'm going to try to stop it, but sadly due to the irresponsible interference of the Wards and Glory Girl I'll be too busy trying to save the hostages to stop them." I replied guilelessly.

"Fuckin' Supervillain," he muttered. "So, you got a plan, right?"

I nodded, thinking about them. "I've got a couple. Current idea is to go the bank today with Panacea and set up an account as Vejovis, only to come back the next day at 12:40 with some questions, happening to just be on site when everything goes down, hopefully keeping Amy out of it so It's just the Wards. When Kid Win unveils his laser cannon you and Enter jump him for not caring about friendly fire. The Wards fight back, as they're not going to be thinking and just assume you're with the Undersiders, despite your obvious age, and after that you defend yourself while I secure the hostages and the villains get away. I come out and take them to task, and in their confusion, we leave. You have any suggestions?"

Herb held up his hands. "I'm gonna defer to you on this. I do things subtle, and nothing about this is gonna be subtle. I'm not Boojack."

"Fuckin' Right!" came Boojack's voice through the doorway. Apparently, he was listening in.

"Hey Boojack?" I called back. "Wanna punch some Nazis in the face?"

A loud thump was heard as he ran down the hall, skidding in front of the doorway. "You're gonna let me fight? Fuck yeah, what'ya want? I'm bored as shit!"

"Herb and I are gonna go fuck up the fuck up of a bank Robbery, and this is the perfect time to establish you as your own cape, and divert some heroes. At 1 tomorrow I want you to start some shit in E88 territory. Don't kill anyone who hasn't tried to kill you first-"

"Or Purity! Or Cricket!" Herb added.

"Or Rune or Othala," I amended, "But feel fry to take down the dudes." I paused. "Damn that's sexist, but we have reasons. Anyways, just try to avoid killing any Neo-Nazis unless you have to, beating them until they need their super-powered healer to avoid a several month-long hospital stay is totally ok and ties up their resources. Either way, keep going until you need to run, or it's been half an hour. If the heroes show, fight, but don't maim or kill, and retreat. Sound good?"

He snorted. "Ah fuck, restrictions. Eh, it'll let me show those bitch-ass motherfuckers how much stronger I am!"

"Hell Yeah!" Herb agreed, high fiving his replicant.

I turned back to Herb. "Okay, so, I need to get a pair of blackout shades to cover my eyes enough that I can wear my mask underneath it, and some clothes to wear over my costume." Herb gave me the 'you're an idiot' look. "What?"

"Your costume can take any shape, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." We'd been over this. It's what let me make my costume turn into clothes."

"And it can turn into regular clothes?" he asked again, trying to use the Socratic method and failing horribly.

"Yeah, it's how I made this," I told him, tugging on red and gold t-shirt I was currently wearing. What was his point?

He looked at me as if I was a colossal moron who'd just told him that huffing paint was a great hobby, you couldn't get a girl pregnant if she was on top, or that professional wrestling was all real.

"Use your costume to make both!" he almost yelled.

But that wouldn't work because. . . I facepalmed as I changed my outfit to what I needed, Boojack laughing as he left to go back to getting high.



Happy with my progress replicating with Stormtiger's deflection from the ground up, I focused on Glory Girl's shields. Working with it was. . . slippery. It was present, and I could feel the strength of the shield, but the lack of any visual feedback made everything more difficult. Coating an item with my power let me use it as a weapon, but trying it with a knife just made it a baton, since the field appeared to be curved slightly. Interestingly, the more I worked on it the more I could control how much a blow took out of the shield, the more I put into the blow, the harder it hit.

Is this why Glory Girl was having control problems with her strength, I pondered. Is she pulling a Midoirya and putting her all in every punch? Working with it, the feeling was hard to quantify, similar to pointing Speed Zones in any direction but parallel to the ground. As I worked, depleting and refilling my shield, I realized that my reserves were, ever so slowly, increasing. Testing a theory, I set up my rock throwing machine up and pelted myself with them. A solid hit still drained it entirely, but as I worked through the day, the threshold that trigged a drain slowly rose, rendering glancing blows inert without drain. It was hours later when a call of "Dude! What're ya doin'?" broke my focus. Looking over I saw that it was later than I thought, probably early evening, the sun low in the sky, highlighting the trainyard, turning the rusting steel to brilliant bronze. "Dude!" came the call again, and I turned to see Herb standing there in his plainclothes, waving at me.

"What?" I responded, dropping the sound bubble and using aerokinesis to stop the machine from slinging more rocks from the reservoir.

"Dude, it's been all day, what've you been doing?" he asked, ambling over. I gave him a look that said 'Isn't it obvious?' as I gestured to the machine.

"I'm getting stoned!" I responded, smiling as he groaned. "I'm training my powers. Get this, throw rocks at me!" I told him, gesturing to the gravel which covered the ground.

"You sure?" he asked, grabbing a golf ball sized rock. I nodded, pulling on my air control to deflect projectiles. He shrugged before pitching it at my chest, on for it to veer off and fly under my arm. He narrowed his eyes, grabbing a couple more and throwing them at me as hard as he could. Each one missed without fail. "Okay, you can't get stoned, knew that already ya square, but they aren't throwing rocks, they're shooting bullets!"

I smirked. "Really? I asked, pulling the pistol from the back of my costume.

His eyes went wide. "Dude, I'm not gonna shoot you!" he said, backing up.

I rolled my eyes. "Just do it one at a time. If you do hit me, my shield can tank it, and we'll have to wait for it to reload, which takes like 10 seconds."

He still looked unsure, so I took the gun, silenced it, and shot my hand with it. The kickback was more than I thought, and it took longer for my shield to recharge than it normally took for a pistol shot. Frowning, ignoring Herb's call of "Holy Shit Man!", I tossed him the flattened bullet I'd caught and checked the gun, unloading it and opening the slide, only to find one of my Speed Zones sitting innocuously in the barrel. Right I thought. I'd added it to my gun to give it a bit extra kick and promptly forgotten about it. That could have gone badly. Tapping into Skidmark's power, I now felt the presence of the zone, but it was a faint thing, the inch-long strip's profile was barely at the edge of perception. Dismissing it, I reloaded the gun and tossed it at him, safety on of course.

He swore as he caught it, trying not to drop it as he looked at me in concern. "Dude, I fuckin' believed you, you didn't need to shoot yourself!"

I shrugged. "I'd never tell you to do something I wouldn't be willing to do myself," I blithely commented. "So, one at a time, but go for it."

He looked trepidations, but lifted the gun anyways, his stance all wrong. At least it isn't sideways. Is that racist? Either way, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, the bullet needing no nudging to pass several feet to my left and hitting the rusted train car behind me. "Dude, open your eyes and look down the iron sights. One shot isn't going to hurt me," I admonished.

He winced, opening his eyes and moved the barrel to actually point at me. Wincing as he jerked the trigger, he was still on target enough to hit me. Barely. A little nudge and it missed, pinging again off the train behind me.

He shook his head, lowering the gun. "I'm sorry man, I can't do this," he admitted, sounding ashamed.

"No!" I contested. "That one was going to hit me before I deflected it. I can show you how to shoot properly later, but you've got the basics. We're at point blank range, even someone who doesn't have any training has a chance of hitting!"

Looking back at me in confusion, he shook his head, muttering "Fuckin' white people, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm someone who wants to train with their powers?" I contended. "I mean, haven't you been training with yours?"

"Doin' what?" Herb shot back, verbally. "My body's somethin' I already know, I can't exactly control my cloning, I already know how to summon Enter, and I can't exactly practice copying when no one around me has powers I can practice copying can I?" he practically yelled.

I cocked my head in confusion. "Yes, you can!" I challenged. "You really didn't notice?"

"Notice what?" he exclaimed. "BJ has all my powers already, and I can't copy your copied powers, just that I can copy others, which I lose the second you get out of range!" I rolled my eyes, ignoring his "What!?"

Apparently, he'd been getting more frustrated about this than I thought. I walked over to my projectile machine, unhooking the pistol from the assembly and loading a bullet into it. Turning around I commanded "Summon Enter." He looked at me, summoning his Stand, who smiled at me. I got the distinct feeling that Enter knew what I was doing, even if Herb didn't. That was. . . odd. I nodded to it, and it promptly turned into the thing that crushed Armsdick's cycle, an Ankylosaurus, having researched it when we'd gotten home. Herb jumped, looking at his summon in confusion before looking back to me, a question in his face.

"I'm going to shoot you," I informed him. "And unless you turn into that, it'll hit you as a human, and it's gonna hurt like a bitch until I heal it, which I won't until you can transform." I smiled evilly, selling it. Mind you, I'd nudge the bullet to just graze him, but he didn't know that.

"Woah, woah dude, let's not be too hasty about this, I'll just, um, it's kinda hard to concentrate when you're doing that so could you just, like, put the gun down, please?" he asked, the last bit a squeak as I raised the pistol and pointed it right between his eyes.

"You have until the count of three," I informed him. Bringing over three brightly colored beetles to hang in the air right in front of him. "One," the first dropped to the ground.

"Dude, I get you're trying to help, but can't we just talk about this normally."

"You're the one who says I'm too long winded, I'm just following your advice. Two," the second one followed suit as his eyes grew wide.

"I didn't mean it like that man, you know that!" he practically whimpered. Closing his eyes and muttering under his breathe. "I don't wanna get shot! Change. Change. Change. Change!"

"Three," I said, dropping the third one, pulling the trigger as it hit the ground, but Herb's form was already a swarm of color as he changed into another Ankylosaur, I nudged the bullet up and to the left to impact at an oblique angle off one of his head plates. The shocked dinosaur, and that was something I never thought I'd see, stood there looking at me in disbelief before turning back to his base, Enter staying in his form, smugness radiating from every scale.

"You fuckin' shot me!" he yelled. "I can't believe you fuckin' shot me! We're friends, then you goin' all evil and fuckin' shoot me you goddamn supervillain fuck!" Herb reiterated, not believing it.

I tossed the empty pistol back towards my machine, striding over. "Don't be such a baby."

"I'll be one if you shoot me. You don't shoot babies, wouldn't you?" he asked, suddenly unsure.

I shrugged, "Depends on the baby, but generally no, now turn back dumbass."

Nodding, he threw out: "Might be safer, bein' armored if you're goin' around shooting people, mindin' their own business," before turning back.

Walking up to him, I put a finger on where I'd shot him. "Now turn back" I instructed. He shifted back to human. It was interesting that the shift pivoted on where his head was, the majority of his body shrinking backwards around that point.

Herb, human again, looked at where I'd kept my finger in place, a couple inches to the left of his head, over his shoulder. He looked back at me, equal parts impressed and pissed. "Motherfucker." He shook his head. "You weren't actually gonna shoot me, where you?"

I looked back at him as if he were crazy. "Not without damn good reason," I told him. "Besides, you needed to get out of your comfort zone to think outside the box. That did it." I waved to his Stand. "You've got someone with their own powers you can copy at any time. Hell, dude can go nearly microscopic if need be. Just have him turn into a water bear and have him hitch a ride. He'll be hanging on to you and always be in range, so you could have all his powers to copy at any time."

"Water bear?" Herb asked, only for Enter to launch himself in a way I'm pretty sure that breed of dinosaur never could, jumping above us, and disappearing as Herb gave a terrified shriek and the sun was blotted out by Enter's shadow. Herb looked around, before turning his attention back to me. "I can feel his powers, but where the hell is he?"

Using Power Sight, I followed the tendril of Herb's power that connected him to his Stand, following it to his collar. Looking down I couldn't see it, merely where the power went to. Pointing at the point I said "There, somewhere, you'll probably need a microscope to see it. If I remember right the second trigger animal form let's you do everything but micro-organisms, which water bears are just above in classification, but still almost impossible to see."

"That's so goddamn broken," Herb murmured, mind filling with possibilities.

"That's the point," I reminded him. "I can leave a sound bubble up here if you want to practice, but if you're doin' anything destructive, go to the Boat Graveyard, it's practically tradition."

He nodded, practically vibrating with happiness, before hugging me, turning into a velociraptor, and darting off into the sunset. Shaking my head, I headed inside to get something to eat before my patrol.



Night had fallen as I tracked a group of Merchants in my Boardwalk persona, getting practice using Speed Zones to travel roof to roof, and dismissing the Zones slowly, causing them to glow instead of flash as they dissipated. I'd been spotted half a dozen times by civilians looking up at the flash when I started, but had gotten the hang of it. If I tried to fly I needed to have at least one part of myself glowing at full blast, which kinda negated the entire "stealth" thing I was going for, so I held my Lightform in reserve.

This group I'd been tracking for the better part of two hours and my patience was running low. Following them back to their base of operations would make a raid do far more damage, and net me more in return, but letting them lead me around the same four blocks like this was just so boring! The threesome chatted, guys whose only commonality was their poor hygiene and obvious drug use. They talked about the price of smack, one of their colleagues overdosing which wasn't that surprising, a video the E88 had made when they busted up an ABB whorehouse, and how their boss was pissed that no-one had found the pair of "Gay Ass Buttsniffers" who'd crashed his party. I assumed the last one was us, but I couldn't find myself to care. I'd already taken Skidmark's power, I couldn't take Squealer's, and you couldn't pay me to take Mush's, so they had nothing left for me other than to take them down. Maybe when Herb decided to be an actual villain and started taking territory I'd help there, but that didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon. As I watched them sell some weed to yet more high-schoolers I pondered taking them down and just beating the information out of them, but they'd probably just lie about it. I lazily made and dismissed another Speed Zone, the glow not reaching past the ledge I leaned against.

I reflexively went full shadow as a frankly terrifying roar echoed across the city, coming from the boat graveyard. The Merchants below looked at each other, one saying "Uh, Derek, I think we've sold enough for tonight, yeah?"

The leader, probably Spanish, nodded, responding. "Yeah, let's go chill somewhere else. Big Pat's?"

The first one shook his head "Nah Man, Big P got hit by some new guy, called himself Boardwalk." Yes! Brand recognition! "Looked like Shadow Stalkers big brother, nearly killed Ed with some broken glass. Let's head to Khan's, no one'd mess with him!"

Khan? I thought. Either Genghis, or this druggie's a trekkie. I smirked as I followed them roof to roof, that would be amusing. A flicker of motion caught my eye as I followed, a streak passing by a couple of streets over, my eyes catching it before my brain could. Planar Shift: Time Dilation, flickered across my consciousness, a flicker of bright red flame burning far too quickly that dissipated in an instant. The sound of his running no louder than a person jogging, just run together in a way that, while distinct, was not that noticeable. I searched my memory for who that could have been. Velocity I decided, disappointed that I hadn't had time to grab his power before he left. That would have been a nice power to have. Shrugging I turned my attention back to the idiots I was tailing, who hadn't noticed a thing. Where they high? Probably I decided as I followed them down to what looked to be a pizza place. They took the back entrance, the bugs I'd tagged them with showing a staircase to the apartments above, an actual armed guard on the third floor, who looked them over before they entered, nodding and opening the door. This place, I saw, looking through the eyes of the bugs, was cleaner and better put together. Just as the first time, all but one of them sat down in the lounge with a bunch of others while the leader went on ahead. Unlike last time, the place was packed. I counted at least twenty in the lounge, with a couple asleep, and a few in the safe room. The door to that space had been barred, and the windows as well.

Like that's gonna stop me I thought, considering the problem. Taking time and coming out into the real world, I sat, meditating on the rooftop across the building. Tapping into the network of life that represented the invertebrate population in the area, I narrowed my focus on the building in front of me, tapping into their senses, a few at a time, to build a picture of the structure. Feel was the easiest to understand, the sense of touch and relative distance building a framework that I used their eyes to fill in. Translating from compound to single lens input was difficult, but I took my time, putting together a picture. The basement was accessible through the restaurant, and had freezers, as well as quite a few bugs. To their credit, there were no cockroaches, so go them I guess. The pizza place was the first level, the kitchen extending backwards, exiting into the lower stairwell that led to the alley. The second floor was an apartment, currently uninhabited, probably where the owners of the pizza place lived. The third and final floor had the guard outside, watching him carefully, he was nervous, shifting places every so often, a submachine gun sitting uncomfortable in his pocket, poking him in the gut. Inside was the lounge, bathroom, and a heavy door leading to what was probably two bedrooms. One still was, but the other had been reinforced into the more secure room. Inside the barred door was a decently furnished room, what looked to be like mail cabinets set up with individual bags of drugs in each cubbyhole. The windows were barred, both vertically and horizontally, the bars drilled into the frame securely. In this room was another guard, and what I assumed was Khan, sitting at a desk playing some kind of first person shooter, wearing headphones and talking. It took a full twenty minutes to hook into all of them individually, getting their perspectives and building a mental map of my target.

Standing up I double checked my costume. I was covered head to toe in black studded leather, fake coat-tails obscuring my belt pouches, a hood covering my head, a mask over my face, not a single inch of skin visible, my eyes safely hidden away. Taking a step on a Speed Zone I launched myself across the way, the reduces gravity of my Shadowform allowing me to touch down silently. I considered my problem. I could take all of them directly, and as long as I kept most of my body in shadow, bullets would pass right through me, my shield allowing me to take an occasional round on whatever part was tangible. However, this persona was all about fear and darkness, and casually walking in and taking them on was just too, too Vejovis. He was the flying brick, I was more a knife in the dark, a glowing knife mind you, but that just made you feel worse when you got stabbed by it.

What I really would have liked was Grue's power, which I could have said was part of my Shadowform, but sadly getting close to him would mean getting close to Tattletale and fuck that. As I stood there I facepalmed. I had bugs everywhere, which included the power breakers. Gathering the ones in the basement together, I opened it up, seeing all the switches. Getting ready I partially shifted into Light, my hands and feet glowing a brilliant white as I sharply rose, off balance for a second as Purity's flying mechanic was very different from Glory Girl's when used for more than levitating, but that was something to practice later. Someone in the lounge had noticed the light.

Rather than take them out one at a time, I slammed the basement bugs into all the switches, turning them all off as I reached out into the light, grabbing something like I'd seen Purity do, body moving on autopilot as I sent it spiraling downwards into the roof right above the unoccupied bathroom. The bug inside saw no breach, so I slammed it again and again until the bug died as the roof caved in, letting go of the light on my feet and dropping down, I slammed a blast point blank into the door, blasting it off its hinges and catching one thug in the process, taking him down with a solid thump not a worrying crunch. I jumped in, keeping the light on my knuckles, but letting it play across the rest of my body, the harsh white radiance shifting into a riot of colors as I launched myself across the room, slamming a punch into the temple of one thug, letting another's punch pass harmlessly through my gut before stepping through him, feeling a slight shock from something, probably his phone, before slamming him in the back of the head with a hammerfist.

My Sight let me see clearly as everyone else scrambled for cover, shots going wild as most of them weren't even aiming at me. The big-screen television died for the crime of reflecting my light, distracting one idiot with a shotgun. He was next, a flying knee catching him in the jaw, the speed zone that propelled me dismissed in a flash, drawing fire. The "front" door burst open and the guard looked in, pulling his Uzi out and firing it in an arc across the room, apparently not giving a shit if he hit his friends. For that, he was going to visit the hospital I decided, using the air to nudge the bullets up to hit the walls and ceiling instead of the cowering Merchants. Taking a step back and bouncing off a speed zone on the wall, I launched myself at him like a psychedelic missile, breaking my momentum on his chest, breaking his ribs as I grabbed his gun arm, shifting my weight around and down throwing him into the lounge, but keeping a hold of his wrist, shattering it with a sickening Crack. The Merchants, realizing that I was out from among them, opened fire, and I was harshly forced to come to terms with the fact that blocking bullets from one source was far easier than a proverbial hail of them. Shifting fast, most of the bullets passing through me, but one that would have hit me in the head caught on my shield, another catching me in the arm right after. That's gonna bruise I thought as the pain flared and I dropped on a Zone, flying back into the room where the possibility of friendly fire would temper their shots. The rest of the fight was a messy mayhem of melee and gunfire, my shield and costume taking blows that might have seriously injured me.

The last one, Derek, went down as he made a run for it. I didn't save him for last, it's just he wasn't actively shooting at me, so I used a chokehold to put him down gently. Through the entire fight the guard and Khan had stood ready in their secure room, the leader behind his desk with a bulky pistol while the guard stood in a corner, what felt like an automatic Shotgun at the ready, a flashlight pointed towards the door the only light in the room. I'd say it's overkill, but it's not gonna help I thought, considering the problem. I could just blast down the door, but it lacked that screw you style and subtly sideways thinking Boardwalk was meant to display. Well, as subtle as a guy could get with explosions. I could go to the outside windows and blast my way in, but in their defensive positioning both targets were right next to a window, and I hadn't played around with the one-setting light blasts I had enough to know just how deadly they could be, especially if used as breaching charges against metal bars. I sighed, grabbing and tossing unconscious and moaning thugs out of the way. There was obviously only one way to do it.

With a clear area, I lined up on the most likely unarmored wall as both my hands glowed, fingers instinctually grasping on the slippery not-vapor energy that existed in the light dimension Purity slipped into. Tagging the barrels of both my foe's guns with bugs to keep track of them, I reached out with my hands simultaneously, letting loose with both barrels, blasts instantly crossing the space in double-helixed spirals to blow apart the wall, the pressure from the destruction knocking my targets over. Flying in I was on the guard, knocking him out with a strong cross, letting just a little of my strength into the blow, sending him down senseless. Khan slid out from behind his plaster-covered desk, gun at the ready and opened fire. The pistol, apparently automatic, spat a torrent of bullets as I ducked in front of the guard, only having to deflect a couple shots as his aim went wide before running out with a pronounced click. I smoothly stood as he struggled with an extra magazine, taking a swinging step to kick the gun, breaking his fingers, before coming back and kicking him in the side of the head, dropping him. After checking that he was still breathing, I turned to the room, spotting the safe in the corner. Looking at it, electronic in construction, I considered it before realizing that it probably wasn't all electric. Turning my arm to shadow and reaching straight through the top, pulling out the money inside as I did so. I filled up the duffel bags I'd brought for that exact purpose, though they had a few new bullet holes.

After taking all the money from the safe, all the ammo, and a bag full of weed to bribe Boojack with eventually, I groped around the safe and found a few thumb drives. Grabbing a baggie and dumping out the pills, I bagged the drives to take with me as well. Before leaving I had a thought, and carefully tried to reach and grab just a little bit of the power needed to fire those light explosives, trying to tease it out in a tiny trickle instead of a handful sized blast. It wasn't anything close to an even flow, but aiming it I created a low-level concussive beam. Moving to the mostly undamaged far wall, I tried my hand at sprucing up the place, writing BOARDWALK with it before nodding to myself at the effect. It was crude, and uneven, but the irregular bursts of explosive light gave it an odd style all its own. Walking out, I spotted someone playing possum, but when I visibly turned my back on him, and he relaxed instead of attacking, I mentally shrugged. If he doesn't want to fight me, I'll return the favor I thought, heading for the bathroom, back up, and out.

As I lifted up, hands and feet alight I spotted a figure in full plate on a rooftop across from me, watching me, glove aglow with blue light. Lighting up my own with a readied beam, I waved at them, watching their confused reaction as the armored person waved back. Dismissing the readied attack, but keeping my hands aglow. I slowly flew over, landing a few meters away, spotting a cloaked figure which stood out oddly to my eyes, the black of their cloak not desaturated like everything else I saw. They crouched on an adjacent rooftop, holding what looked like a hand crossbow cocked and pointed at me, though the person's face, covered with a hockey mask, was pointed away.

Sophia I thought, keeping my reaction from seeing her out of my voice as I addressed the figure. "Sup?" I asked, internally wincing at the slang. "You Gallant?" I asked, keeping my voice deep and relaxed, forcing myself to relax in turn.

He nodded as he inquired "I am, you are?"

I gave that odd chin-thrust that I'd seen black kids do when they wanted to look tough. "Names Boardwalk. New. We gonna have a problem if I hit a Merchant drug den?" I asked, pointing a thumb back at the place I came from, the lights flickering on as someone from the restaurant reset the breakers, the shattered windows in the lounge showing the place littered with bodies, one guy getting up. He looked out, and seeing me seeing him, he dropped back to the ground, feigning unconsciousness, causing me to laugh. Seriously dude? I thought. I left, just fucking run. I'm not gonna chase you.

"Are any of them dead?" Gallant asked cautiously, peering into the room.

I shrugged. "If they are, ain't from me. One asshat tried to spray'n'pray with an Uzi, didn't hit me, but he might've 'accidentally' broken his wrist and ribs. Heard recoil's nasty on those." I mused, pissed that he'd ignored the lives of the damn people he'd been tasked to protect. I hadn't killed him, but I'd been tempted to.

Gallant nodded understandingly. "And the bags?" he asked pointing to the several duffle bags I'd slung across my back.

"Loot, got it more legally than they did," I asserted, not sure where he was going with this. I'd checked the laws, and goods claimed in the process of busting up criminals was a legal grey zone where the heroes got all they could carry, but it wasn't exactly officially endorsed.

"Most heroes don't bring bags," he calmly pointed out, hands careful held at his hands.

Another shrug. "Most heroes are dumbasses," was my poignant reply. "Oh!" I added, reaching into a belt pouch and digging out the thumb drives, mildly surprised he didn't try something when I reached into my belt. "Found these in the safe, you might like'em, not sure what I'd do with them." I remarked, tossing it to him underhand. There, good deed for the day done. Gallant seems pretty cool, I hope he doesn't die this time, but I'm gonna have my hands full keeping my own team alive. I turned to leave, and saw Sophia Hess, Shadow Stalker lying prone, weapon pointed in my general direction, and face turned away. I wonder why she's doing that? I thought, before getting an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful awful idea.

I got ready to fly, preparing for a full burst pushing me off to the west towards Winslow, and waved to her, calling out "Hi Soph, see you later!" before blasting off like a rocket, her loosed bolt missing me by a mile, her terrified cry of "What The FUCK!" sweet nectar to my ears.