- Location
- Here
I think those two traumatized a little girl, and I seem to have forgotten why that was a good idea.
Abaddon Born(e) - (Worm CYOA)
- Thread starter PublicLee S.
- Start date
- Status
IronLucario2012
<Verified Pokémon> <Licensed Mech Pilot>
- Location
- Ireland
If you're talking about Dinah, that happened because Herb decided to not remind Lee because, AFAICT, 'Muh Canon'.
If you're talking about the first Sophia thing, it was the Worst Day Ever.
If you're talking about the Boardwalk breaking Sophia's leg thing, she had just tried to kill him.
If you're talking about something else, I can't remember off the top of my head.
- Location
- Kansas
I think he's talking about Kara.
IronLucario2012
<Verified Pokémon> <Licensed Mech Pilot>
- Location
- Ireland
Ah. I was thinking late teens/young adult there, but it's totally possible I just missed something.
- Location
- United States of America
Kara's about Lee's age, maybe a bit younger, though I get how her being scared and summoning a rabbit to hold (and try and mask her scent) might make her seem younger. If it's because Lee referred to her as a girl, he tends to do that to any female who seems to be college aged or less. Worm has a bit of a weird divide where all the female characters seem to be under twenty or over thirty. Even The Travelers were in their late teens, despite seeming older in-story.
I'm sure there were a few more minor things, but I was distracted by enjoying the chapter 
glowing
Double open quotes
effect
'though.
- Location
- Wonderland
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Hee heee.
Cannibalism
scent
it's your color, though,"
Reconnoiter 10.8
- Location
- United States of America
Reconnoiter 10.8
I didn't quite understand how big Maine was. Two and a half hours later, driving from highway to slightly smaller highway, I still had a good hour and a half left before we arrived at our next destination. In the wee hours of the morning, the roads were completely empty, and it'd been a while since I'd seen any active sign of civilization. To conserve fuel I'd encompassed the car in a lift field and been flying it just over the road, bringing it back down to an inch off the ground the one time a car had been going in the opposite direction.
Herb was asleep in the passenger seat, so I jumped, the car lifting a good twenty feet off the ground, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. Looking back, I saw another Herb, this one looking panicked. Landing on the shoulder and turning on the emergency lights, Herb mumbled in his sleep but did nothing else as I turned around.
"Hello, what's your name?" I asked the clone politely, trying to avoid another Curtis situation.
"Mike. I'm Mike. My name is Mike," he said in a rush. "But don't tell anyone else!"
I blinked slowly, taking in, of all things, a nervous, paranoid version of Herb. "Can I tell the others in the PD?"
The replicant froze, eyes darting back and forth, before nodding rapidly. "Yes. Them. But only them. No one else."
"Okay," I shrugged. "Anything I should know about you?"
He froze again, going completely still, before nodding rapidly once more. "Yes. Don't want to fight. Fighting's dangerous. But I want to help. How do I help?"
While it was a bit odd, I was glad to deal with a version of Herb I could carry a conversation with, even if he seemed pulled taught with sheer nervousness. "What's your favored animal form? Herb's are dinos, Boojack's are large herbivores, Cu-"
"Birds!" he blurted out. "Birds are fast. Gotta go fast."
"Are you sure that isn't hedgehogs?" I joked, only to get a blank stare in return. "Right," I coughed, feeling awkward. "So, you don't want to fight?"
"Yes."
I waited, but that was the entirety of his response. He looked increasingly nervous, so I nodded, "Okay, I can work with that. Do you mind doing Search and Rescue during the Leviathan fight? Not fighting him, but just getting other people to safety quickly."
He went utterly still once more, which I was quickly coming to assume meant he was thinking hard about something. "Can do that. Running is good. Helping others run is good too. Don't want to die."
"If you do, you'll just come back in a week or two," I pointed out kindly. "Others don't have that safety net."
A look of anger flashed across his face, gone so fast and so completely that if I wasn't looking directly at him I would've never known it'd happened. "Said I would. Will. Sorry," he said, his face shifting downcast for a moment before once again returning to his default anxiousness.
"Sorry Mike, I'm used to dealing with Herb, where you need to make sure. So, I'm assuming you want looks of your own. You want to step out of the car for a moment and stretch out while we look up some references."
"No!" he blurted out, panicked. "Sorry," he added as he calmed slightly. "Car is probably armored. Safe. Outside isn't. Don't have shields like you. Sorry."
I shrugged, "It's okay man, calm down. We can do that here. You have any preferences for what you want to look like?"
He started to answer immediately, only to close his mouth before he could say a word. This process repeated four times before he looked away from me completely, muttering, "I don't care. Whatever you want is fine. Maybe a skinny body? I don't like muscles, but it doesn't matter. Sorry. A thinner nose, if you could. You know what? Don't mind me. Stupid for bringing it up. Stupid for bugging you. It's ok. I'm ok. World's ok," he let it out in a long rush. Muttering to himself so quietly I needed my power to hear him, he added, "We're all gonna die anyway."
"Dude, it's okay," I told him, reaching over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder only for him to flinch away form me, shoving himself back against his seat. Retracting my hand, I continued, "I asked you, so don't feel bad about this. If you want to do this freeform, I can give that a shot. Not sure how many body-wide changes I can make safely, but it's not that big a deal."
Tweaking his body to his specifications, while having to repeatedly tell him that his having specifications in the first place was okay, resulted in someone who looked vastly different than the original. Herb and I both had a decently broad build, definitely endomorphic. What Mike ended up with was distinctly ectomorphic: tall, lean, and with a certain bird-like appearance. He had his skin lightened even more than Herb, to the point that he barely looked African American at all and was just what someone might call just 'ethnic'. Similarly, his features, other than thinning and narrowing a bit, were made generally bland. Boojack and Curtis had both had definite styles they were going for. Mike? If he was going for something other than 'thin and nondescript', I couldn't see it.
"So, what are your plans until the fifteenth?" I asked as I was finishing up, my phone in my other hand as I tried to copy the structure of a hawk's eyes. It seemed to work as he blinked, looked around rapidly, and gave me a quick nod.
"Gonna scout. Keep on the move. Keep an eye out. Maybe find the Teeth? That'll help, right? I find them, call you?" he asked rapid fire.
I hadn't even considered heading them off, not knowing where to even start looking before they came to the Bay. "Sure," I shrugged. "If you can, awesome, if you can't, don't sweat it. We know where they're going to end up. Just be there for the Endbringer fight."
He nodded again, quickly flashing a thumbs up before rolling down the window. In the space of a second he was gone, transforming into something small, dark, and fast, flapping once and rocketing out the window with enough force to blow my hair back, the beat of his wings, a dozen feet away, hard enough to rock the car with the wind generated. The 'bird' seeming to teleport out as I could barely track it, arrowing away up and westward into the night.
The hell? I thought. Unless in the middle of a fight, Mike should've been limited by the biological constraints of what he turned into, just like Herb was. I wondered if that had been some weird bird, but no, what I'd just seen was physically impossible for unpowered physiology to replicate. Shaking my head, I rolled up the window, looking over at my teammate who hadn't even woken up, turned the lights back on, and levitated the car back over the road once more.
Two hours later, I'd run into a problem. The address on file for Brix from Eclipse's database lead me to a P.O. box, in a place called Presque Isle. I'd ended up on U.S. Highway 1 of all things, which was almost unrecognizable as a highway, considering it was two lanes, three at most, like ninety percent of surface roads. The town was a nice bit of condescend civilization after so long only passing the occasional dark house, 'driving' across mile after mile of sparse forest, dotted with large expanses of oddly empty ground.
Luckily, there was a 24-hour Dunkin Donuts nearby. While I didn't need the caffeine to stay awake, the tea so sweet I had to repeat my order three times helped calm my frustration. Looking him up online, it took an hour to track his real location down, a news story from someplace called Ashland (Maine, as apparently there was one in Massachusetts as well, and wasn't that confusing!) about him moving there giving me a destination, with a quote from him saying he was retiring and just wanted to be left alone.
Well, he'll either join us or I'll nab his power and leave him in peace, I thought, pulling out of the parking spot and waving to the cop who'd pulled up across the lot from us and had been watching us for the past ten minutes. The other car followed us until it was clear that we were leaving his town, making a u-turn and driving back the way he'd come. Part of me wanted to copy him and drive right back into town, because he was being kind of a passive-aggressive ass about it, but antagonizing the local constabulary was antithetical to the entire 'keep a low profile' thing I was trying to do. Well, at least as ourselves, and I didn't have time to do so as someone else.
The sky was starting to lighten, though dawn was still quite a while off, when I rolled into Ashland, having amusingly passed through a town literally named Mapleton. In the distance I could finally see the mountains I'd associated with Maine, slowly realizing that pretty much everything I knew about the place was based off of bad stereotypes. Except for the number of trees. That was spot on.
The article had given me an address, but as I rolled up to its location on a dirt road, off a dirt road, off a third dirt road, I only found dense forest and was forced to confront the fact that either the GPS was wrong, or the address was. Busting out the paper map in the glovebox, I found that the map was at least a decade out of date, so that didn't really help me either. Driving back to Ashland, I actually found a real person up and about, even if it was just someone manning what I assumed was a general store.
Buying gas and a couple of sandwiches made the old guy behind the counter willing to answer my questions, though when I asked about Brix his mood fouled up again pretty quick. Telling him I was working for a hero group looking to recruit him netted me a full on scoff, but also directions to where he lived. The directions. . . well they sucked. It was all 'go down that road a bit' and 'if you see the tree that looks like a bird, you've gone too far'. Herb was still fast asleep when I got back into my car and headed off once again.
Almost forty-five minutes later I was about ready to kill something. On the bright side, he was right, that tree had looked like a bird. On the not-so-bright side I still hadn't found Brix's place. I tried to pull off what passed for a road, more levitating the car slightly into the woods than pulling off since there wasn't a real shoulder to pull off onto. Herb was still asleep, so I let him rest as I turned off the car and stepped outside, locking it behind me.
Lifting high up in the air, I strained my eyes as I looked for this god-damned house. I finally spotted it in the distance, or at least a really bright campfire, the trees lit from below by something. Looking around I spotted what was more a suggestion of a path then an actual one, ending at what I assumed was where his driveway met the road. However, the driveway wasn't even a dirt road, it was a wide spot between two fucking trees. Tracing the path to where I was, I realized I'd probably make it there shortly after dawn, which was actually probably for the best now that I thought about it. Dropping back down to the car, A high-pitched noise emanated from inside, like an overfilled balloon slowly losing air. Leaning over to look inside, Herb had woken up and was looking in my direction, eyes wide with fright, scrabbling for his seatbelt.
Clicking the unlock button, the lights turned on inside the car, and he froze as he looked at me, and I just looked back at him, one eyebrow raised. Getting back into my car, he said, voice faint, "Oh, you're back. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"You're. . . welcome?" I replied. "We're not quite there yet, we should be there in like. . . twenty minutes?"
"Don't ever do that to me again!" he snapped, uncharacteristically angry.
I blinked, staring at him uncomprehendingly. "Do what?"
"Leave me in the dead of Maine! Alone! What were you thinking!" he yelled.
. . . what. "You're a superpowered person who can become a werewolf, and that's barely scratching the surface," I pointed out. A moment later I was looking back at his first attempt at being a werewolf, thankfully not going dire were in the car that couldn't hold his larger form. He turned back a moment later.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," he apologized, contrite. "I forgot."
"Are," I hesitated, "are you scared of forests?"
"The dark, dark forest?" he asked right back, as if that meant something.
I looked around, easily able to see everything around us, the pre-dawn light more than enough to let me see without my Power Sight doubling as darkvision. "The sun's almost, okay, the sun will rise in like half an hour. Forty-five minutes, tops."
"The dark, dark forest?" he repeated, as if I missed his point. I did, but just repeating it wasn't going to help.
"We're going to talk to someone whose power is to grow and control trees," I reminded him. "Is this gonna be a problem?"
"That's fine, as long as he doesn't bury me in a dark, dark forest," he insisted.
I raised an eyebrow, "I think that's literally his power."
"Yeah, I'm not gonna do good on this one, am I?" he whimpered.
"What is it even called when you're scared of forests?" I asked, waving around us. "Treephobia? Arboraphobia?
He frowned, shaking his head, "It's not the forest, exactly, it's the dark, dark forest."
". . . what's the difference?" I questioned, still not getting it.
He shrugged, "Well, during the day I'm not so scared."
So, the darkness? I thought, wondering why he couldn't have just lead with that. With what we'd done not ten hours ago, he was just being silly. "Dude, you can do partial transformation," I told him. He just looked at me, not getting it. "Give yourself wolf eyes!"
His pupils immediately shifted, irises turning amber as his whites turned dark like spreading ink. "You know," he informed me, "some days. Some days suck."
I rolled my own eyes, not bothering to try to decode that statement, levitating the car back onto what might be called a road, if one was feeling charitable. "Just remember you can be dazzled more easily with those," I advised, but if he heard me he didn't say anything, too busy looking all around us as I 'drove'. We ate our breakfast as I levitated the car just above dirt paths the vehicle likely couldn't have handled, the ground impassibly muddy, snowy, or both. At least Herb enjoyed my complaining about the state of the roads.
It was indeed after dawn when I found the turn off that would lead to Brix's house. I could've sworn I'd been exactly here before, and it'd been solid trees, not the obvious corridor that turned off into the forest, but after a certain point all these backroads started to blend together. Landing the car to actually drive the last bit, I still had to use a lift field to move the car, the tires spinning uselessly otherwise.
I growled and Herb laughed as we turned the corner only to find a cleared, paved road twisting deeper into the forest, trees arching overhead, hiding it completely. Driving without having to cheat anymore it was another few minutes before I turned the last time, his driveway squigglier than an indecisive snake, and saw Brix's house.
It was astonishingly modern, looking quite a bit out of place surrounded by impenetrable forest. The mini-road ended in a large paved area, a single beat-up looking pickup parked in front of the house. Leaning against it was an older man in flannel, arms crossed, watching us as I pulled up. He had a thick beard, black with bits of grey, and looked the very definition of a lumberjack as he peered at us with suspicious eyes.
Seeing at him as I parked he blazed with the Bark Brown & Birch White of Tree Growth & Control. Herb had already gotten out as I did the same, studying his power as it spread out in every direction, like a spider's web, connecting to every single tree around us, to the house, to underneath the road. We were positioned in the center of his power, which might be part of the reason he was standing there, calmly, waiting for us.
Now that I was actually here, I wasn't exactly sure how to start this conversation. Herb broke the ice for me, giving the older Parahuman and grin and a wave, greeting him with a "Howdy!"
Brix, and it couldn't've been anyone else, nodded slowly, "Mornin' boys. What be bringing the two of you to my doorstep at this time of the hour?"
Extending my shades to my standard domino mask, I disconnected the pieces and 'pocketed' my shades to appear that I'd been wearing the mask the entire time. "I'm Vejovis, and this is Break. We're from the Penumbral Defenders, a new hero group in Brockton Bay. Are you Brix?"
He gave me a long look, seeming to be looking for something. I took the moment to get a better handle on what his power was. He could grow trees in any way he wanted, from seeds or from existing trees, and anything he grew he could both sense and control. The entrance, I realized. It had looked like impenetrable forest because it was impenetrable forest until he'd been ready for visitors and moved the trees blocking his driveway. His expression didn't reveal what he was thinking as he drawled, "Mayin' that I might bein' this fella, Mayin' that I won't bein' this fella. What is your business with this here 'Brix'?
His power being what it was, he could've ruined most people's day, which explained his easy confidence. Us though, he'd barely slow down. Ignoring that fact that we could fly, and his trees couldn't, Herb could shrink to the point of being invisible and I didn't care how tough his trees were, they'd still burn if I shoved a sun into them. As such I was completely comfortable being upfront and honest, ready in case things went badly. "We're recruiting for our hero group, and you both have a good track record, and you have powers that could be used for more than just combat. We've a precog contact, and things are going to get worse in the Bay before they get better, so having someone both experienced and able to help others is what we're looking for. We're reaching out to a lot of people with constructive powers, and we'd like your help." Herb nodded enthusiastically but didn't say anything else. While I would've liked his assistance, he also wasn't undercutting me, accidentally or otherwise, either.
Brix looked at me, at my teammate, and didn't say anything. I waited for his response, and Herb followed my lead. After a long moment he calmly pointed out, "I'm retired. Have been for a while. Whole buncha people fightin' for nothing that really matters, no matter what they be claimin'."
I shrugged, taking that as a 'I don't want to fight, what do you have to say to that' statement. The fact that he was obviously a Natural Trigger made me doubt that, but I'd deal with him as he was. "Then don't fight. While we could always use the backup, support staff are still necessary. If our Tinker decides he never wants to throw down, I'd be okay with that, right?" I asked Herb.
He nodded, "Kid's getting' good at hand to hand, but if it's just to keep him safe, it'll be worth training him."
There was another long pause before he finally nodded once, slowly. "I'm not be sayin' yes, but if you be wantin' to make your pitch, I could be usin' some hands to help around here."
Knowing what his power was, I knew that was absolutely bullshit, but it wasn't a no, so I'd take it. Looking to Herb, he shrugged, so I turned to Brix and nodded. "Sure, what do you need us to do?"
What he needed us to do was put spigots into trees to collect the sap to turn into maple syrup. It was so incredibly, stereotypically Maine, that I almost asked if he was serious, but I didn't want him to think I was baulking at his request, so I just went along with it. Herb just grinned, finding this hilarious, though he at least didn't do more than chuckle. After a quick instruction on how to do it correctly he led us deep into the forest, which was if anything thicker with his power. The two of us carried a large stack of buckets, a bag of spigots, and an old-timey, hand-cranked drill each.
It was a balmy fortyish degrees outside, and we trudged through the snow, carefully putting the taps in. I could See him tweak the trees with his power, the sap starting to drip as soon as the spigot was secured. While not needed, I did appreciate the gesture, giving us an immediate payoff to our actions. We worked for almost an hour, both of us in our t-shirts, sneakers, and jeans, before Brix, in heavy flannel, winter pants, and boots finally asked, "Aren't you boys cold?"
My Immunity power kept me comfortable and glancing over I could See Herb borrowing my power to keep from freezing as well. I shrugged, commenting, "The cold never bothered me anyway." Herb laughed, almost dropping his spigot. "So," I continued, hoping that since Brix had broken the silence we'd fallen into, it meant it was okay to talk. "Why did you retire? As far as I could find, you never said."
"Been readin' up on me, haven't ya?" the older parahuman asked dryly.
"Yes?" I replied. "I was planning on trying to recruit you. What kind of person doesn't look up the people they're trying to recruit?"
"The PRT," Herb called, getting a chuckle from Brix, the first bit of mirth either of us had seen from the man.
"What kind of smart person doesn't look up the people they're trying to recruit," I amended, the Mainer pretending he hadn't laughed as he nodded seriously.
"You'd be surprised," he informed me. "I never did say why I stopped." He lapsed into silence again, and I could almost feel him waiting for me to say something. With the oddest feeling like this was a test, I held my tongue. If he wanted to tell us, he would. If he didn't then he wouldn't. My goal here was to either recruit him or copy his power. While I wouldn't copy a Hero's power for moral reasons, retired heroes where an entirely different ballgame. Getting his reasons for retiring wasn't needed for that.
I tapped into the local insect life and watched him watch me, before he nodded to himself, stating, "Like I said, it was a whole buncha people fightin' for nuthin'. Saw no worth in it. Just idiots dressin' up and fightin' for things they don't need. Capes been around for a while, but how much of 'em get married, settle down, and raise a family like proper Americans?"
I paused mid drill, thinking about it. "Huh," I remarked, "you're right. There's New Wave, but they're not exactly a good example, given how Brandish treats Panacea. Hadn't really thought about it, more worried about trying to save people from others trying to kill them."
"You and every other feller in spandex, runnin' around like you've got something to prove. Know how many heroes settle down?" He asked. I shook my head. "Neither do I, but I'd be bettin' ya it be less than one in ten," Brix told me. "You got anyone back home?"
Herb laughed again, calling over, "It's really bugging him!"
Resisting the urge to throw a metal spigot at my teammate's head, I ground out, "No. Things are kind of tense right now, with the bombing, and the Nazis, and everything else. Maybe when things calm down in a year or two, more likely two, but I'm kinda busy. "Besides," I shrugged, considering it, "I'd need to be with someone I was equal to, which for better or for worse means a fellow cape, which limits the pool substantially." Herb made a sound of agreement as he tried to hand the bucket so that it'd hang off the spigot, even once it was full of sap.
Brix smiled in my direction, expression firming back to his neutral mask as I looked back at him. He motioned back to the tree I was working on and I sighed, getting back to it. "Do you have any kids, if you don't me asking," I inquired, setting a bucket underneath my own tap. As he reached out with his power to make the sap flow through the tree, I let my own power reach out and grab a copy for myself. If he joined, I wouldn't use it, but if we had to leave, short of a fight (which I didn't want), I wasn't sure if I could get him to use his power in front of me.
He shrugged. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," was all he said, and the conversation petered off after that.
It was nearly noon when we finally finished, and other than being a bit hungry, I was perfectly fine. The work was repetitive, not strenuous, and, like before, I got the feeling that this was some sort of test, so I went along with it. After putting in all the taps, which required us to go back and get two more sacks of them apiece, we had to make the rounds collecting the sap as it flowed.
If I hadn't known that powers were at play before, I would've known from the trips that we had to make, gathering gallon after gallon of clear sap, the buckets always almost full when we got to them. He had us continue to collect and stack up the filled jugs next to a small shack that'd been hidden when we first arrived, the snow disturbed all around it by the trees that had uprooted themselves and moved away when we were out of sight, but not out of sight of the insects I controlled.
Giving into temptation we both tried the sap, which turned out to just taste like water with just a hint of maple and sugar instead of syrup, but otherwise it was just a whole lot of walking and carrying. Setting us to watch the sap as it cooked off in a still built into the shed, Brix went inside his house and told us he'd bring us out some lunch "in a few."
"Well, I think this is going well," I commented after he left.
"You really think he's going to join?" my teammate asked dubiously.
I brought my copy Brix's power to the forefront, not using it but making it obvious if Herb was borrowing my Power sight. I motioned to my eyes and he nodded, eyes darting over me and nodding to himself. "If he doesn't, then I'm sure that Case 53 we talked about might be amenable. He's got more experience, so I'd prefer him, but if he says no then we'll just have to accept it."
He laughed, nodding. "Gotchya."
"Wait, you hear that?" I asked him, the sound of a car driving towards us faint but slowly growing. Herb shook his head, before his ears rippled momentarily, briefly becoming furred and pointed before he nodded, ears returning to normal. Moments later a blue SUV turned the corner, slowing down as the person driving likely spotted us. It pulled up next to Brix's truck, the passenger's side facing us, and the driver got out.
Walking around the car was a teenage girl, who looked at us incredulously. Having no idea what was going on I followed Herb's lead and waved to her in greeting. She had black hair tied back in a brad, was middling in height, her build was somewhat stocky, and she just stared at us incredulously, finally declaring, "I'm going to kill my dad."
I didn't quite understand how big Maine was. Two and a half hours later, driving from highway to slightly smaller highway, I still had a good hour and a half left before we arrived at our next destination. In the wee hours of the morning, the roads were completely empty, and it'd been a while since I'd seen any active sign of civilization. To conserve fuel I'd encompassed the car in a lift field and been flying it just over the road, bringing it back down to an inch off the ground the one time a car had been going in the opposite direction.
Herb was asleep in the passenger seat, so I jumped, the car lifting a good twenty feet off the ground, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. Looking back, I saw another Herb, this one looking panicked. Landing on the shoulder and turning on the emergency lights, Herb mumbled in his sleep but did nothing else as I turned around.
"Hello, what's your name?" I asked the clone politely, trying to avoid another Curtis situation.
"Mike. I'm Mike. My name is Mike," he said in a rush. "But don't tell anyone else!"
I blinked slowly, taking in, of all things, a nervous, paranoid version of Herb. "Can I tell the others in the PD?"
The replicant froze, eyes darting back and forth, before nodding rapidly. "Yes. Them. But only them. No one else."
"Okay," I shrugged. "Anything I should know about you?"
He froze again, going completely still, before nodding rapidly once more. "Yes. Don't want to fight. Fighting's dangerous. But I want to help. How do I help?"
While it was a bit odd, I was glad to deal with a version of Herb I could carry a conversation with, even if he seemed pulled taught with sheer nervousness. "What's your favored animal form? Herb's are dinos, Boojack's are large herbivores, Cu-"
"Birds!" he blurted out. "Birds are fast. Gotta go fast."
"Are you sure that isn't hedgehogs?" I joked, only to get a blank stare in return. "Right," I coughed, feeling awkward. "So, you don't want to fight?"
"Yes."
I waited, but that was the entirety of his response. He looked increasingly nervous, so I nodded, "Okay, I can work with that. Do you mind doing Search and Rescue during the Leviathan fight? Not fighting him, but just getting other people to safety quickly."
He went utterly still once more, which I was quickly coming to assume meant he was thinking hard about something. "Can do that. Running is good. Helping others run is good too. Don't want to die."
"If you do, you'll just come back in a week or two," I pointed out kindly. "Others don't have that safety net."
A look of anger flashed across his face, gone so fast and so completely that if I wasn't looking directly at him I would've never known it'd happened. "Said I would. Will. Sorry," he said, his face shifting downcast for a moment before once again returning to his default anxiousness.
"Sorry Mike, I'm used to dealing with Herb, where you need to make sure. So, I'm assuming you want looks of your own. You want to step out of the car for a moment and stretch out while we look up some references."
"No!" he blurted out, panicked. "Sorry," he added as he calmed slightly. "Car is probably armored. Safe. Outside isn't. Don't have shields like you. Sorry."
I shrugged, "It's okay man, calm down. We can do that here. You have any preferences for what you want to look like?"
He started to answer immediately, only to close his mouth before he could say a word. This process repeated four times before he looked away from me completely, muttering, "I don't care. Whatever you want is fine. Maybe a skinny body? I don't like muscles, but it doesn't matter. Sorry. A thinner nose, if you could. You know what? Don't mind me. Stupid for bringing it up. Stupid for bugging you. It's ok. I'm ok. World's ok," he let it out in a long rush. Muttering to himself so quietly I needed my power to hear him, he added, "We're all gonna die anyway."
"Dude, it's okay," I told him, reaching over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder only for him to flinch away form me, shoving himself back against his seat. Retracting my hand, I continued, "I asked you, so don't feel bad about this. If you want to do this freeform, I can give that a shot. Not sure how many body-wide changes I can make safely, but it's not that big a deal."
Tweaking his body to his specifications, while having to repeatedly tell him that his having specifications in the first place was okay, resulted in someone who looked vastly different than the original. Herb and I both had a decently broad build, definitely endomorphic. What Mike ended up with was distinctly ectomorphic: tall, lean, and with a certain bird-like appearance. He had his skin lightened even more than Herb, to the point that he barely looked African American at all and was just what someone might call just 'ethnic'. Similarly, his features, other than thinning and narrowing a bit, were made generally bland. Boojack and Curtis had both had definite styles they were going for. Mike? If he was going for something other than 'thin and nondescript', I couldn't see it.
"So, what are your plans until the fifteenth?" I asked as I was finishing up, my phone in my other hand as I tried to copy the structure of a hawk's eyes. It seemed to work as he blinked, looked around rapidly, and gave me a quick nod.
"Gonna scout. Keep on the move. Keep an eye out. Maybe find the Teeth? That'll help, right? I find them, call you?" he asked rapid fire.
I hadn't even considered heading them off, not knowing where to even start looking before they came to the Bay. "Sure," I shrugged. "If you can, awesome, if you can't, don't sweat it. We know where they're going to end up. Just be there for the Endbringer fight."
He nodded again, quickly flashing a thumbs up before rolling down the window. In the space of a second he was gone, transforming into something small, dark, and fast, flapping once and rocketing out the window with enough force to blow my hair back, the beat of his wings, a dozen feet away, hard enough to rock the car with the wind generated. The 'bird' seeming to teleport out as I could barely track it, arrowing away up and westward into the night.
The hell? I thought. Unless in the middle of a fight, Mike should've been limited by the biological constraints of what he turned into, just like Herb was. I wondered if that had been some weird bird, but no, what I'd just seen was physically impossible for unpowered physiology to replicate. Shaking my head, I rolled up the window, looking over at my teammate who hadn't even woken up, turned the lights back on, and levitated the car back over the road once more.
Two hours later, I'd run into a problem. The address on file for Brix from Eclipse's database lead me to a P.O. box, in a place called Presque Isle. I'd ended up on U.S. Highway 1 of all things, which was almost unrecognizable as a highway, considering it was two lanes, three at most, like ninety percent of surface roads. The town was a nice bit of condescend civilization after so long only passing the occasional dark house, 'driving' across mile after mile of sparse forest, dotted with large expanses of oddly empty ground.
Luckily, there was a 24-hour Dunkin Donuts nearby. While I didn't need the caffeine to stay awake, the tea so sweet I had to repeat my order three times helped calm my frustration. Looking him up online, it took an hour to track his real location down, a news story from someplace called Ashland (Maine, as apparently there was one in Massachusetts as well, and wasn't that confusing!) about him moving there giving me a destination, with a quote from him saying he was retiring and just wanted to be left alone.
Well, he'll either join us or I'll nab his power and leave him in peace, I thought, pulling out of the parking spot and waving to the cop who'd pulled up across the lot from us and had been watching us for the past ten minutes. The other car followed us until it was clear that we were leaving his town, making a u-turn and driving back the way he'd come. Part of me wanted to copy him and drive right back into town, because he was being kind of a passive-aggressive ass about it, but antagonizing the local constabulary was antithetical to the entire 'keep a low profile' thing I was trying to do. Well, at least as ourselves, and I didn't have time to do so as someone else.
The sky was starting to lighten, though dawn was still quite a while off, when I rolled into Ashland, having amusingly passed through a town literally named Mapleton. In the distance I could finally see the mountains I'd associated with Maine, slowly realizing that pretty much everything I knew about the place was based off of bad stereotypes. Except for the number of trees. That was spot on.
The article had given me an address, but as I rolled up to its location on a dirt road, off a dirt road, off a third dirt road, I only found dense forest and was forced to confront the fact that either the GPS was wrong, or the address was. Busting out the paper map in the glovebox, I found that the map was at least a decade out of date, so that didn't really help me either. Driving back to Ashland, I actually found a real person up and about, even if it was just someone manning what I assumed was a general store.
Buying gas and a couple of sandwiches made the old guy behind the counter willing to answer my questions, though when I asked about Brix his mood fouled up again pretty quick. Telling him I was working for a hero group looking to recruit him netted me a full on scoff, but also directions to where he lived. The directions. . . well they sucked. It was all 'go down that road a bit' and 'if you see the tree that looks like a bird, you've gone too far'. Herb was still fast asleep when I got back into my car and headed off once again.
Almost forty-five minutes later I was about ready to kill something. On the bright side, he was right, that tree had looked like a bird. On the not-so-bright side I still hadn't found Brix's place. I tried to pull off what passed for a road, more levitating the car slightly into the woods than pulling off since there wasn't a real shoulder to pull off onto. Herb was still asleep, so I let him rest as I turned off the car and stepped outside, locking it behind me.
Lifting high up in the air, I strained my eyes as I looked for this god-damned house. I finally spotted it in the distance, or at least a really bright campfire, the trees lit from below by something. Looking around I spotted what was more a suggestion of a path then an actual one, ending at what I assumed was where his driveway met the road. However, the driveway wasn't even a dirt road, it was a wide spot between two fucking trees. Tracing the path to where I was, I realized I'd probably make it there shortly after dawn, which was actually probably for the best now that I thought about it. Dropping back down to the car, A high-pitched noise emanated from inside, like an overfilled balloon slowly losing air. Leaning over to look inside, Herb had woken up and was looking in my direction, eyes wide with fright, scrabbling for his seatbelt.
Clicking the unlock button, the lights turned on inside the car, and he froze as he looked at me, and I just looked back at him, one eyebrow raised. Getting back into my car, he said, voice faint, "Oh, you're back. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"You're. . . welcome?" I replied. "We're not quite there yet, we should be there in like. . . twenty minutes?"
"Don't ever do that to me again!" he snapped, uncharacteristically angry.
I blinked, staring at him uncomprehendingly. "Do what?"
"Leave me in the dead of Maine! Alone! What were you thinking!" he yelled.
. . . what. "You're a superpowered person who can become a werewolf, and that's barely scratching the surface," I pointed out. A moment later I was looking back at his first attempt at being a werewolf, thankfully not going dire were in the car that couldn't hold his larger form. He turned back a moment later.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," he apologized, contrite. "I forgot."
"Are," I hesitated, "are you scared of forests?"
"The dark, dark forest?" he asked right back, as if that meant something.
I looked around, easily able to see everything around us, the pre-dawn light more than enough to let me see without my Power Sight doubling as darkvision. "The sun's almost, okay, the sun will rise in like half an hour. Forty-five minutes, tops."
"The dark, dark forest?" he repeated, as if I missed his point. I did, but just repeating it wasn't going to help.
"We're going to talk to someone whose power is to grow and control trees," I reminded him. "Is this gonna be a problem?"
"That's fine, as long as he doesn't bury me in a dark, dark forest," he insisted.
I raised an eyebrow, "I think that's literally his power."
"Yeah, I'm not gonna do good on this one, am I?" he whimpered.
"What is it even called when you're scared of forests?" I asked, waving around us. "Treephobia? Arboraphobia?
He frowned, shaking his head, "It's not the forest, exactly, it's the dark, dark forest."
". . . what's the difference?" I questioned, still not getting it.
He shrugged, "Well, during the day I'm not so scared."
So, the darkness? I thought, wondering why he couldn't have just lead with that. With what we'd done not ten hours ago, he was just being silly. "Dude, you can do partial transformation," I told him. He just looked at me, not getting it. "Give yourself wolf eyes!"
His pupils immediately shifted, irises turning amber as his whites turned dark like spreading ink. "You know," he informed me, "some days. Some days suck."
I rolled my own eyes, not bothering to try to decode that statement, levitating the car back onto what might be called a road, if one was feeling charitable. "Just remember you can be dazzled more easily with those," I advised, but if he heard me he didn't say anything, too busy looking all around us as I 'drove'. We ate our breakfast as I levitated the car just above dirt paths the vehicle likely couldn't have handled, the ground impassibly muddy, snowy, or both. At least Herb enjoyed my complaining about the state of the roads.
It was indeed after dawn when I found the turn off that would lead to Brix's house. I could've sworn I'd been exactly here before, and it'd been solid trees, not the obvious corridor that turned off into the forest, but after a certain point all these backroads started to blend together. Landing the car to actually drive the last bit, I still had to use a lift field to move the car, the tires spinning uselessly otherwise.
I growled and Herb laughed as we turned the corner only to find a cleared, paved road twisting deeper into the forest, trees arching overhead, hiding it completely. Driving without having to cheat anymore it was another few minutes before I turned the last time, his driveway squigglier than an indecisive snake, and saw Brix's house.
It was astonishingly modern, looking quite a bit out of place surrounded by impenetrable forest. The mini-road ended in a large paved area, a single beat-up looking pickup parked in front of the house. Leaning against it was an older man in flannel, arms crossed, watching us as I pulled up. He had a thick beard, black with bits of grey, and looked the very definition of a lumberjack as he peered at us with suspicious eyes.
Seeing at him as I parked he blazed with the Bark Brown & Birch White of Tree Growth & Control. Herb had already gotten out as I did the same, studying his power as it spread out in every direction, like a spider's web, connecting to every single tree around us, to the house, to underneath the road. We were positioned in the center of his power, which might be part of the reason he was standing there, calmly, waiting for us.
Now that I was actually here, I wasn't exactly sure how to start this conversation. Herb broke the ice for me, giving the older Parahuman and grin and a wave, greeting him with a "Howdy!"
Brix, and it couldn't've been anyone else, nodded slowly, "Mornin' boys. What be bringing the two of you to my doorstep at this time of the hour?"
Extending my shades to my standard domino mask, I disconnected the pieces and 'pocketed' my shades to appear that I'd been wearing the mask the entire time. "I'm Vejovis, and this is Break. We're from the Penumbral Defenders, a new hero group in Brockton Bay. Are you Brix?"
He gave me a long look, seeming to be looking for something. I took the moment to get a better handle on what his power was. He could grow trees in any way he wanted, from seeds or from existing trees, and anything he grew he could both sense and control. The entrance, I realized. It had looked like impenetrable forest because it was impenetrable forest until he'd been ready for visitors and moved the trees blocking his driveway. His expression didn't reveal what he was thinking as he drawled, "Mayin' that I might bein' this fella, Mayin' that I won't bein' this fella. What is your business with this here 'Brix'?
His power being what it was, he could've ruined most people's day, which explained his easy confidence. Us though, he'd barely slow down. Ignoring that fact that we could fly, and his trees couldn't, Herb could shrink to the point of being invisible and I didn't care how tough his trees were, they'd still burn if I shoved a sun into them. As such I was completely comfortable being upfront and honest, ready in case things went badly. "We're recruiting for our hero group, and you both have a good track record, and you have powers that could be used for more than just combat. We've a precog contact, and things are going to get worse in the Bay before they get better, so having someone both experienced and able to help others is what we're looking for. We're reaching out to a lot of people with constructive powers, and we'd like your help." Herb nodded enthusiastically but didn't say anything else. While I would've liked his assistance, he also wasn't undercutting me, accidentally or otherwise, either.
Brix looked at me, at my teammate, and didn't say anything. I waited for his response, and Herb followed my lead. After a long moment he calmly pointed out, "I'm retired. Have been for a while. Whole buncha people fightin' for nothing that really matters, no matter what they be claimin'."
I shrugged, taking that as a 'I don't want to fight, what do you have to say to that' statement. The fact that he was obviously a Natural Trigger made me doubt that, but I'd deal with him as he was. "Then don't fight. While we could always use the backup, support staff are still necessary. If our Tinker decides he never wants to throw down, I'd be okay with that, right?" I asked Herb.
He nodded, "Kid's getting' good at hand to hand, but if it's just to keep him safe, it'll be worth training him."
There was another long pause before he finally nodded once, slowly. "I'm not be sayin' yes, but if you be wantin' to make your pitch, I could be usin' some hands to help around here."
Knowing what his power was, I knew that was absolutely bullshit, but it wasn't a no, so I'd take it. Looking to Herb, he shrugged, so I turned to Brix and nodded. "Sure, what do you need us to do?"
What he needed us to do was put spigots into trees to collect the sap to turn into maple syrup. It was so incredibly, stereotypically Maine, that I almost asked if he was serious, but I didn't want him to think I was baulking at his request, so I just went along with it. Herb just grinned, finding this hilarious, though he at least didn't do more than chuckle. After a quick instruction on how to do it correctly he led us deep into the forest, which was if anything thicker with his power. The two of us carried a large stack of buckets, a bag of spigots, and an old-timey, hand-cranked drill each.
It was a balmy fortyish degrees outside, and we trudged through the snow, carefully putting the taps in. I could See him tweak the trees with his power, the sap starting to drip as soon as the spigot was secured. While not needed, I did appreciate the gesture, giving us an immediate payoff to our actions. We worked for almost an hour, both of us in our t-shirts, sneakers, and jeans, before Brix, in heavy flannel, winter pants, and boots finally asked, "Aren't you boys cold?"
My Immunity power kept me comfortable and glancing over I could See Herb borrowing my power to keep from freezing as well. I shrugged, commenting, "The cold never bothered me anyway." Herb laughed, almost dropping his spigot. "So," I continued, hoping that since Brix had broken the silence we'd fallen into, it meant it was okay to talk. "Why did you retire? As far as I could find, you never said."
"Been readin' up on me, haven't ya?" the older parahuman asked dryly.
"Yes?" I replied. "I was planning on trying to recruit you. What kind of person doesn't look up the people they're trying to recruit?"
"The PRT," Herb called, getting a chuckle from Brix, the first bit of mirth either of us had seen from the man.
"What kind of smart person doesn't look up the people they're trying to recruit," I amended, the Mainer pretending he hadn't laughed as he nodded seriously.
"You'd be surprised," he informed me. "I never did say why I stopped." He lapsed into silence again, and I could almost feel him waiting for me to say something. With the oddest feeling like this was a test, I held my tongue. If he wanted to tell us, he would. If he didn't then he wouldn't. My goal here was to either recruit him or copy his power. While I wouldn't copy a Hero's power for moral reasons, retired heroes where an entirely different ballgame. Getting his reasons for retiring wasn't needed for that.
I tapped into the local insect life and watched him watch me, before he nodded to himself, stating, "Like I said, it was a whole buncha people fightin' for nuthin'. Saw no worth in it. Just idiots dressin' up and fightin' for things they don't need. Capes been around for a while, but how much of 'em get married, settle down, and raise a family like proper Americans?"
I paused mid drill, thinking about it. "Huh," I remarked, "you're right. There's New Wave, but they're not exactly a good example, given how Brandish treats Panacea. Hadn't really thought about it, more worried about trying to save people from others trying to kill them."
"You and every other feller in spandex, runnin' around like you've got something to prove. Know how many heroes settle down?" He asked. I shook my head. "Neither do I, but I'd be bettin' ya it be less than one in ten," Brix told me. "You got anyone back home?"
Herb laughed again, calling over, "It's really bugging him!"
Resisting the urge to throw a metal spigot at my teammate's head, I ground out, "No. Things are kind of tense right now, with the bombing, and the Nazis, and everything else. Maybe when things calm down in a year or two, more likely two, but I'm kinda busy. "Besides," I shrugged, considering it, "I'd need to be with someone I was equal to, which for better or for worse means a fellow cape, which limits the pool substantially." Herb made a sound of agreement as he tried to hand the bucket so that it'd hang off the spigot, even once it was full of sap.
Brix smiled in my direction, expression firming back to his neutral mask as I looked back at him. He motioned back to the tree I was working on and I sighed, getting back to it. "Do you have any kids, if you don't me asking," I inquired, setting a bucket underneath my own tap. As he reached out with his power to make the sap flow through the tree, I let my own power reach out and grab a copy for myself. If he joined, I wouldn't use it, but if we had to leave, short of a fight (which I didn't want), I wasn't sure if I could get him to use his power in front of me.
He shrugged. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," was all he said, and the conversation petered off after that.
It was nearly noon when we finally finished, and other than being a bit hungry, I was perfectly fine. The work was repetitive, not strenuous, and, like before, I got the feeling that this was some sort of test, so I went along with it. After putting in all the taps, which required us to go back and get two more sacks of them apiece, we had to make the rounds collecting the sap as it flowed.
If I hadn't known that powers were at play before, I would've known from the trips that we had to make, gathering gallon after gallon of clear sap, the buckets always almost full when we got to them. He had us continue to collect and stack up the filled jugs next to a small shack that'd been hidden when we first arrived, the snow disturbed all around it by the trees that had uprooted themselves and moved away when we were out of sight, but not out of sight of the insects I controlled.
Giving into temptation we both tried the sap, which turned out to just taste like water with just a hint of maple and sugar instead of syrup, but otherwise it was just a whole lot of walking and carrying. Setting us to watch the sap as it cooked off in a still built into the shed, Brix went inside his house and told us he'd bring us out some lunch "in a few."
"Well, I think this is going well," I commented after he left.
"You really think he's going to join?" my teammate asked dubiously.
I brought my copy Brix's power to the forefront, not using it but making it obvious if Herb was borrowing my Power sight. I motioned to my eyes and he nodded, eyes darting over me and nodding to himself. "If he doesn't, then I'm sure that Case 53 we talked about might be amenable. He's got more experience, so I'd prefer him, but if he says no then we'll just have to accept it."
He laughed, nodding. "Gotchya."
"Wait, you hear that?" I asked him, the sound of a car driving towards us faint but slowly growing. Herb shook his head, before his ears rippled momentarily, briefly becoming furred and pointed before he nodded, ears returning to normal. Moments later a blue SUV turned the corner, slowing down as the person driving likely spotted us. It pulled up next to Brix's truck, the passenger's side facing us, and the driver got out.
Walking around the car was a teenage girl, who looked at us incredulously. Having no idea what was going on I followed Herb's lead and waved to her in greeting. She had black hair tied back in a brad, was middling in height, her build was somewhat stocky, and she just stared at us incredulously, finally declaring, "I'm going to kill my dad."
IronLucario2012
<Verified Pokémon> <Licensed Mech Pilot>
- Location
- Ireland
...Cherish? Is that you?
Can't remember her appearance and I'm not in a position to look it up, but it'd fit.
- Location
- florida
- Location
- Lansing, MI
Doubt it. Almost certainly Brix's daughter - note the conversation about whether he had kids when he settled down. No doubt pissed at her dad not telling her about the pair of strangers he let through the perimeter.
People acting reasonable, meeting a sensible parahuman?
The other shoe is gonna be a doozy.
"braid" I presume.
The other shoe is gonna be a doozy.
Surely not condescending... Condensed?
arrange the bucket so that it'd hang off the spigot?
my copy of Brix's
Brought her boyfriend along?
"braid" I presume.
- Location
- Wonderland
They have Power Copy (proximity), too. Can't they copy Vejy's Aerokinesis?
Not sure what you meant here.
braid, (as mentioned)
On the Unwritten Rules or, "Why following rules when no one else does makes. no. sense."
- Location
- United States of America
I have realized that I never made an informational post for February, so, lacking any really driving topic, I'd like to address the topic of the Unwritten Rules. They get referenced a lot (including by Lee), but a lot of the comments I see about them seem to miss a point or three. So, in the hope that this clears up some points (though expecting someone to read 3.8 thousand words instead of the one hundred and ninety-one seems the height of folly), here we go.
To start with, at their core, what are the Unwritten Rules? Side note, it should always go without saying that when I make declarative statements about the nature of things in fictional creations that aren't my own that they are just my opinion of how it works, and thus how I'll be approaching things in AB because that is how I understand them. So, right, Unwritten Rules. They're not as much rules as. . . guidelines. However, while they can be bent with more than a bit of grumbling, they aren't supposed to be broken. Mind you, almost none of the villains in Brockton Bay actually follow the unwritten rules, but they keep their infractions hidden (Hookwolf in the E88, Coil), are too pathetic to bother dealing with (Skidmark), or are too strong to take on directly without calling in backup (Lung). The last is particularly galling because the point of the UR is to motivate others to team up to take down those who break the rules and cannot be defeated by a single faction.
Brockton Bay is likely a horrible example of how the Unwritten Rules work, but that place was a powder keg on purpose. A better example? Boston. Accord is many things (Sociopathic, Egotistical, OCD+), but as far as I can tell he is also a follower of the UR, and it's evidenced in his actions. However the Unwritten Rules keep things from escalating, so it only makes sense that everyone within a ten-mile radius of Taylor can't keep to them.
The Unwritten Rules, in essence, are an honor code shared by parahumans (honor among thieves works, but only when enforced by the others). Here's the thing about honor codes, they only really apply to those that follow them. It's been brought up a number of times before, though I suppose never explicitly enough, but one must consider the concept of the Outlaw. Outlaws were, well, outside the law. By denying its restriction and limitations, they also forgo its protections. You could do anything you wanted to an Outlaw, and you wouldn't get in legal trouble over it (though given the rewards and what your neighbors might say, turning them over to Law (Dead or Alive), was the normal result).
Similarly, a shockingly large number of people don't understand how military treaties work. To put it simply, each side is only bound as long as the other also follows it. If two countries go, 'Hey, we know attacking farms is really effective, but even if one of us wins the war we're going to end up with mass starvation, so let's agree not to do that,' then that works if both sides do so. If country A is following the rule when they go to war with country B (Those honey-loving bastards!), but country B starts attacking Country A's farms to mess with Country A's supply lines, Country A is under absolutely no obligation not to do the same thing to country B.
People who are either incapable of basic logic or, more likely, have an ulterior motive might go "Hey, Country A can't do that! They agreed that they wouldn't!" or "That makes Country A just as bad as Country B!" but that makes no sense. If you and someone else agree to take turns paying for dinner, and the other person refuse to pay when its they're turn, you are under absolutely no obligation to pay for them the next time. Furthermore, your not paying next time isn't as bad as them going back on your agreement with them, as they broke the agreement. The agreement was already broken by the time that you acted. This is basic logic and the basis of all contracts, formal and informal, and the fact that a lot of people claim not to see the difference means that they are blindingly stupid, incredibly sheltered, or, most likely, disingenuous liars, even if they're lying because they don't want to question the unquestionable 'truths' taught to them by others.
Back to Treaties and the Geneva Conventions, other countries would be well within their right to use chemical weapons to wipe out groups like ISIS, since they commit war-crimes by the wagon-load and thus have no protections from others doing the same thing back to them. Now, a lot of countries would condemn a nation for using chemical weapons, and the country might have their own internal rules against it, but it wouldn't violate the Geneva Conventions. In fact (and I haven't studied this in enough detail to speak authoritatively, so this is just my belief here), not acting against countries who violate them may be a violation of the conventions themselves, though if it is, then, just like the Unwritten Rules, its an aspect that no-one actually follows in more than the barest, 'I guess we could now that things are over and there's almost no risk to us', way.
Lastly on this sub topic, you can't pick and choose how you break agreements, only keeping to the rules that benefit you the most. You can't go 'well I broke the third rule, so you can break the third rule in return, but not any of the other ones!' You can't go 'well I raped someone but that doesn't mean you get to go straight to lethal force! or 'I mind controlled someone, making them a puppet to my will and violating them every way but sexually, but finding out my secret identity is not allowed!' You break a rule, you break the entire agreement. One might argue that that's how the legal system works, but we're not talking about trials, we're talking about agreements between armed parties, ultimately beholden to no one else but their organization. Even if we were, the cops can kill you for resisting arrest if you're enough of a threat no matter the severity of your crime (or even if you've committed no crimes at all). You don't get to say 'well I only robbed a cash register and got so little it's only a misdemeanor, that means the cops aren't allowed to shoot me if I resisted arrest! That's an entire rabbit hole that I'm not going to go down, possibly ever, but at every level you don't get to choose what laws you can break and others can break towards you, just like you can't choose which parts of an agreement that you need to fulfill. That's why these agreements are only binding on groups that follow all of them, which in Worm I could count on one hand, and the Protectorate isn't one of them.
Now, here's the most important part about this entire thing: Lee doesn't really care about following the Unwritten Rules. He uses them as a general 'if you're following them then I will' guideline, and he gets annoyed when those who should be following them aren't, but he's not willing to bind himself by rules the other side won't follow. That's why he'd likely politely ask Über and Leet to stop if they were filming one of their videos, to turn themselves in if they'd hurt people, and only rough them up if they refused. Hell, he'd probably heal them back up after he had them bound. On the other hand, he wouldn't blink before putting a bullet right between Coil's eyes in the dead of the night, in his civilian identity, in his home, while he slept. If Scion wasn't a thing and the PRT weren't hopelessly corrupt, Lee'd probably, if not outright join them, then work in close contact with them, but there is no good official option and the Golden Rule cuts both ways.
All that said, here's the rules themselves. Being unofficial, quibbling about the exact wording is useless, since there is no exact wording, and pretending there is just shows how little the pedant understands what they're talking about. First of all:
Respect the secret identities of fellow parahumans. Private lives are a needed outlet and taking that away is asking for trouble.
All well and good, except Lee doesn't have a secret identity. He has no private life, and it's easily argued that the lack of one (combined with personal betrayals and having to do some really messed up shit to try to fix the evil done by others) is causing him some serious problems. Remember though, this protection is only given to those who follow the Unwritten Rules.
No attacking the civilian family members of parahumans.
Is a sub-rule, and established to double impress upon the importance of not targeting non-combatant family members. However, you get to the entire "Mob Wife" problem where the spouse either knew, or kept themselves willingly ignorant of, what their partner was doing, personally benefited from those actions, and helped support those actions by their support of their spouse. This is why this protection only extends to the families of those parahumans who follow the Unwritten Rules.
No violence or using powers during a meeting between multiple parties.
Common sense, and put as an ironclad rule (unlike the next one). Without this everything breaks down, but, that being said, one that is less a 'no one do it', but more a 'no one get caught doing it', allowing for 'harmless' uses of power (Purity staying bright, primed to fire, and generally hard to look at should count as breaking this, and all non-obvious Thinkers are at work constantly during these meetings because who's going to catch them?), showing how little most care for the 'rules'. Really put here as a 'if you break this publicly we all go after you' thing, which in Brockton Bay at least, never actually materializes.
Try not to use lethal force.
Keyword 'try', though, 'attempt not to' or 'don't go straight for' would also apply. In a world where Brutes exist, the line between lethal and non-lethal force is pretty blurred. Also, this is, once again, something that only protects you as long as you keep to the Unwritten Rules. People who don't? Lung, Hookwolf, Coil, and many others. The entirety of the ABB post-Bakuda's takeover falls here as well.
No widespread attacks against civilians.
Theoretically common sense, and the reason, on the surface, why the Truce against the ABB came about. 'Widespread' is the key-word here, and should realistically, probably be swapped out for 'public'. All gangs, by their very nature, inflict widespread attacks against civilians that don't comply (and sometimes even when they do), so it's really all about public perception. The E88 demanding 'protection' money from all who are in their territory (with double or triple price from non-Whites, Jews, and Gays, most likely) should theoretically violate this, but it's more of a 'If Hookwolf kills people, he needs to have a reason and not just because he wanted to go kill some (insert slur here) at night and in a back alley' kind of thing. The rules exist, but, like the fey, as long as no one calls you on breaking them, then it's okay. This is not how rules should work.
Enslaving others with mind control is not permitted.
On one hand, that seems like a common sense thing, on the other hand, that is literally one of the Fallen's powers (Valefor), and, by the Unwritten Rules, everyone, Hero and Villain alike, should be teaming up to kill the heck out of him as soon as he shows up in Brockton Bay. Does this happen? Nope. Will this trend continue in AB? What do you think? On a side note, as much as Lee wants Regent to get better as a person, if Alec goes back to having flesh puppets, Lee will kill him.
No rape or sexual assault of any kind.
The thing that should've brought the entirety of Brockton Bay down on Lung's scaly head. They are known for their sex slavery in Canon, but nothing ever happens. Unpleasant truth of power: a lot of people use it for sexual gratification. On the (relatively) less horrible end you have the open secret of how many people are forced to perform sexual favors to get acting roles in Hollywood, on the other end of the spectrum you have the Congo where men and women are raped at gunpoint by men and women, both many times using everything from genitalia and body parts to the barrel of a gun. Hell, "Lust Rapes" where a person's "needs" must be fulfilled but no one dies are just normal in some rebel-controlled areas of the Congo. Add in superpowers and everything gets worse.
Now, being America (with all the sexual hangups that we have here in Burgerland), that shit needs to be kept relatively on the down low, as the backlash would be much worse than if you just killed someone. What I've taken that to mean, given the altered morality I've had to craft for the public to let Lung openly run sex slavery rings, is that the rule should more likely be read as 'No rape or Sexual Assault of any kind to other capes or in public'.
Lee doesn't add in that implied part of the rule and is more than willing to not only enforce the base rule, but drag out violations of it into the light, forcing all those who've remained willingly blind to see what they've been avoiding. Doing so is not making him any friends. He's used to it.
Don't use guns. If you absolutely have to carry a gun be careful using them. They lead to escalation and death.
If you want to play Cops and Robbers, this is obvious and understandable. Also, trigger discipline is just common sense, and thus woefully rare. Once again, the 'try not to use guns' rule is a rule that is only followed if all the others are. If a villain tries to Mind Control someone, then by the rules it's fire when ready.
Stick to less "lethal" archaic weaponry, swords crossbows shields, things that work with powers.
Less a rule and more a suggestion. Also, guns are strong enough and versatile enough that they simultaneously work with most powers but also break most power themes enough that they add a level of uncertainty that can make Cape Fights much more deadly. Ignoring the ones with synergistic effects (*cough*Vista*cough*), imagine fighting Lady Photon, all bright glowy shields and energy blasts that move slow enough to dodge, when she pulls out a glock and shoots you. No build-up, no chance to block, just getting shot (though hitting a target with a handgun at the range capes would fly at is harder than you'd think if you don't have personal experience). A longsword will kill you just as dead as a sawn-off shotgun, but it's harder to hide and much easier to dodge and/or block.
Then there's the four rules for Endbringer and Class S threats:
No attacking people who volunteer, irrespective of grudges.
No taking advantage of an attack for personal gain or to advance your faction.
No setting up others to die.
Medical care is provided without discrimination for past deeds.
None of these need any explanation. Also, fun fact, Taylor accidentally wondering into Sophia's room and finding out she's Shadow Stalker is not a violation of the Endbringer Truce, it's the PRT being absolute morons (A shocker, I know), and having unmasked Wards in beds in public areas instead of even giving them a basic domino mask. Trying to railroad Taylor for their own mistake, ironically, is breaking the UR, as it would be taking advantage of the attack and setting up villains, not to die, but to be put in a situation where death (or Birdcaging, which is equivalent) is on the table despite not breaking the law or intentionally breaking the UR. The only bargaining chip they have is the Triumvirate right there, and their reputation so if it weren't for the fact that Taylor had evidence of Armsmaster's gross violation of the Endbringer Truce she likely would've ended up forcibly recruited into the Wards, Birdcaged, or dead.
Back on topic, given the nature of Superheroes, if the PRT doesn't have a bunch of disposable masks around in the medical area of an Endbringer fight 'just in case', then they're well past stupid and into willfully, suicidally incompetent. Armsmaster's actions however were as blatant a break as it's possible to do without turning and shooting one of the other Endbringer Fighters in the head mid-battle. Not going to go into that topic, but anyone who supports that man and doesn't put themselves in the 'vigilante' or 'conspirator' category in the CYOA is deluding themselves.
Then there's the last two. The two that no one freaking follows.
If anyone breaks the rules, all willing parahumans work together to effect punitive action.
Please, tell me one time this happens in way that involves both sides of the hero/villain divide. The closest you get is the Anti-ABB Truce, but that was a Villain/Mercenary only endeavor, none of the Non-Protectorate heroes doing jack. Even the Governmental heroes should be helping, by the way the Unwritten Rules are supposed to work. One might argue that the Echidna Incident might count, but that was the Undersiders having to go to the heroes and practically beg them to do their damn jobs, the Travellers were there because it was their teammate, and all of the other villains in the city (like Über & Leet) were nowhere to be found. Back on topic, if this rule was actually in play in Brockton Bay, then the ABB would've been taken down long before the start of canon. Also the Teeth. And the Fallen. And the S9. And likely more, but you get my point.
In reality, the Unwritten Rules have all the threat of the United Nations. While they can make things worse for someone who doesn't obey them, at the end of the day they're fairly useless unless someone enforces them, and that only seems to happen if one of the parties feels like it. Laws that are not consistently enforced are less than useless and undercut the foundation of whatever it is they are supposed to protect. The Unwritten Rules are nice guidelines to follow if you want to keep things cordial, but in reality they're more often than not something that binds the side of good (who wouldn't do half those things anyways), while the evil parahumans break them with impunity, hiding behind them whenever possible, always downplaying their actions and smiling to themselves about how smart they are for gaming the system. And lastly, the most ridiculous of them:
Repeated and flagrant breaking the rules could be grounds to be sent to the Birdcage or for receiving a kill order.
In one direction, Canary should never have been sentenced to the Birdcage. In the other, Lung should've been jumped by several Protectorate teams and been sent to the Birdcage with an armed guard long ago, by these rules. If I recall correctly the excuse was that he was useful against Leviathan once, so what did it matter how many he forced to be repeatedly raped for money or how many he killed as long as they weren't public on the off chance that he decided to fight the Endbringers once more.
So, there's the entirety of the Unwritten Rules in all their 'glory'. When people start yelling about Lee breaking them, with the air of a child tattling to a teacher, remember exactly what the rules are and that they only apply to those who themselves follow them. They're ignored as often as they're enforced, and to the inevitable cry of 'Well Lee's breaking them! He shouldn't be protected by them either!' I have to nod slowly and ask, 'Yes, and?'
Lee has no Secret Identity, and thus has nothing to fear by it getting exposed. He even considers it a 'burner' identity, worth nothing more than a mild inconvenience as he gets a new one. He would outright expect any family he had to be the target of attacks, finding the act of others doing so to be repugnant but he's fighting evil. It's kind of the reason he fights it in the first place. Expecting betrayal at meetings is also something that Lee expects, but something he'd not initiate with honorable opponents, which are the only ones the rules protect anyways. Similarly he wouldn't attack civilians, but would also not be surprised if his opponents did so, because evil.
Lee hates Mind Control as much as he hates Rape and is quickly coming to grips with both being done against innocents without repercussion from the 'heroes'. After all, Heartbreaker exists. He expects guns to be used against him, as they have been, a lot, and other than the Endbringer rules, that's pretty much all of them as Lee doesn't expect others to enforce the rules for anything other than personal gain and short of a top-tier power suppressor he's never seeing the inside of the Birdcage unless he wants to. In terms of Endbringers, he'll fight with the PRT & Villains but has no illusions that someone, be it Hero, Villain, or even the Triumvirate themselves, may try to stab him in the back.
TL;DR: The Unwritten Rules are the Geneva Conventions of Capes, with all that entails. Treating an honorless opponent with honor would be seen by those with (the old type of) honor as the height of stupidity. Lee uses the Unwritten Rules as guidelines when dealing with other capes and already expects no-one to follow them with him, so loses nothing by breaking them if he wanted to. The hypocrisy of other claiming to follow them and not doing so rankles him, but a lot of things rankle him. That being said, Lee tends to generally follow them because he's not a raping, innocent murdering, kill-em-all psychopath. I'm aware that a vocal minority of readers hate characters who believe themselves moral, but please have actual arguments on why the metaphorical paladin should fall, as we're really starting to get to a 'boy who cried wolf' scenario of overusing accusations of self-righteousness with nothing of substance to back them up.
To start with, at their core, what are the Unwritten Rules? Side note, it should always go without saying that when I make declarative statements about the nature of things in fictional creations that aren't my own that they are just my opinion of how it works, and thus how I'll be approaching things in AB because that is how I understand them. So, right, Unwritten Rules. They're not as much rules as. . . guidelines. However, while they can be bent with more than a bit of grumbling, they aren't supposed to be broken. Mind you, almost none of the villains in Brockton Bay actually follow the unwritten rules, but they keep their infractions hidden (Hookwolf in the E88, Coil), are too pathetic to bother dealing with (Skidmark), or are too strong to take on directly without calling in backup (Lung). The last is particularly galling because the point of the UR is to motivate others to team up to take down those who break the rules and cannot be defeated by a single faction.
Brockton Bay is likely a horrible example of how the Unwritten Rules work, but that place was a powder keg on purpose. A better example? Boston. Accord is many things (Sociopathic, Egotistical, OCD+), but as far as I can tell he is also a follower of the UR, and it's evidenced in his actions. However the Unwritten Rules keep things from escalating, so it only makes sense that everyone within a ten-mile radius of Taylor can't keep to them.
The Unwritten Rules, in essence, are an honor code shared by parahumans (honor among thieves works, but only when enforced by the others). Here's the thing about honor codes, they only really apply to those that follow them. It's been brought up a number of times before, though I suppose never explicitly enough, but one must consider the concept of the Outlaw. Outlaws were, well, outside the law. By denying its restriction and limitations, they also forgo its protections. You could do anything you wanted to an Outlaw, and you wouldn't get in legal trouble over it (though given the rewards and what your neighbors might say, turning them over to Law (Dead or Alive), was the normal result).
Similarly, a shockingly large number of people don't understand how military treaties work. To put it simply, each side is only bound as long as the other also follows it. If two countries go, 'Hey, we know attacking farms is really effective, but even if one of us wins the war we're going to end up with mass starvation, so let's agree not to do that,' then that works if both sides do so. If country A is following the rule when they go to war with country B (Those honey-loving bastards!), but country B starts attacking Country A's farms to mess with Country A's supply lines, Country A is under absolutely no obligation not to do the same thing to country B.
People who are either incapable of basic logic or, more likely, have an ulterior motive might go "Hey, Country A can't do that! They agreed that they wouldn't!" or "That makes Country A just as bad as Country B!" but that makes no sense. If you and someone else agree to take turns paying for dinner, and the other person refuse to pay when its they're turn, you are under absolutely no obligation to pay for them the next time. Furthermore, your not paying next time isn't as bad as them going back on your agreement with them, as they broke the agreement. The agreement was already broken by the time that you acted. This is basic logic and the basis of all contracts, formal and informal, and the fact that a lot of people claim not to see the difference means that they are blindingly stupid, incredibly sheltered, or, most likely, disingenuous liars, even if they're lying because they don't want to question the unquestionable 'truths' taught to them by others.
Back to Treaties and the Geneva Conventions, other countries would be well within their right to use chemical weapons to wipe out groups like ISIS, since they commit war-crimes by the wagon-load and thus have no protections from others doing the same thing back to them. Now, a lot of countries would condemn a nation for using chemical weapons, and the country might have their own internal rules against it, but it wouldn't violate the Geneva Conventions. In fact (and I haven't studied this in enough detail to speak authoritatively, so this is just my belief here), not acting against countries who violate them may be a violation of the conventions themselves, though if it is, then, just like the Unwritten Rules, its an aspect that no-one actually follows in more than the barest, 'I guess we could now that things are over and there's almost no risk to us', way.
Lastly on this sub topic, you can't pick and choose how you break agreements, only keeping to the rules that benefit you the most. You can't go 'well I broke the third rule, so you can break the third rule in return, but not any of the other ones!' You can't go 'well I raped someone but that doesn't mean you get to go straight to lethal force! or 'I mind controlled someone, making them a puppet to my will and violating them every way but sexually, but finding out my secret identity is not allowed!' You break a rule, you break the entire agreement. One might argue that that's how the legal system works, but we're not talking about trials, we're talking about agreements between armed parties, ultimately beholden to no one else but their organization. Even if we were, the cops can kill you for resisting arrest if you're enough of a threat no matter the severity of your crime (or even if you've committed no crimes at all). You don't get to say 'well I only robbed a cash register and got so little it's only a misdemeanor, that means the cops aren't allowed to shoot me if I resisted arrest! That's an entire rabbit hole that I'm not going to go down, possibly ever, but at every level you don't get to choose what laws you can break and others can break towards you, just like you can't choose which parts of an agreement that you need to fulfill. That's why these agreements are only binding on groups that follow all of them, which in Worm I could count on one hand, and the Protectorate isn't one of them.
Now, here's the most important part about this entire thing: Lee doesn't really care about following the Unwritten Rules. He uses them as a general 'if you're following them then I will' guideline, and he gets annoyed when those who should be following them aren't, but he's not willing to bind himself by rules the other side won't follow. That's why he'd likely politely ask Über and Leet to stop if they were filming one of their videos, to turn themselves in if they'd hurt people, and only rough them up if they refused. Hell, he'd probably heal them back up after he had them bound. On the other hand, he wouldn't blink before putting a bullet right between Coil's eyes in the dead of the night, in his civilian identity, in his home, while he slept. If Scion wasn't a thing and the PRT weren't hopelessly corrupt, Lee'd probably, if not outright join them, then work in close contact with them, but there is no good official option and the Golden Rule cuts both ways.
All that said, here's the rules themselves. Being unofficial, quibbling about the exact wording is useless, since there is no exact wording, and pretending there is just shows how little the pedant understands what they're talking about. First of all:
Respect the secret identities of fellow parahumans. Private lives are a needed outlet and taking that away is asking for trouble.
All well and good, except Lee doesn't have a secret identity. He has no private life, and it's easily argued that the lack of one (combined with personal betrayals and having to do some really messed up shit to try to fix the evil done by others) is causing him some serious problems. Remember though, this protection is only given to those who follow the Unwritten Rules.
No attacking the civilian family members of parahumans.
Is a sub-rule, and established to double impress upon the importance of not targeting non-combatant family members. However, you get to the entire "Mob Wife" problem where the spouse either knew, or kept themselves willingly ignorant of, what their partner was doing, personally benefited from those actions, and helped support those actions by their support of their spouse. This is why this protection only extends to the families of those parahumans who follow the Unwritten Rules.
No violence or using powers during a meeting between multiple parties.
Common sense, and put as an ironclad rule (unlike the next one). Without this everything breaks down, but, that being said, one that is less a 'no one do it', but more a 'no one get caught doing it', allowing for 'harmless' uses of power (Purity staying bright, primed to fire, and generally hard to look at should count as breaking this, and all non-obvious Thinkers are at work constantly during these meetings because who's going to catch them?), showing how little most care for the 'rules'. Really put here as a 'if you break this publicly we all go after you' thing, which in Brockton Bay at least, never actually materializes.
Try not to use lethal force.
Keyword 'try', though, 'attempt not to' or 'don't go straight for' would also apply. In a world where Brutes exist, the line between lethal and non-lethal force is pretty blurred. Also, this is, once again, something that only protects you as long as you keep to the Unwritten Rules. People who don't? Lung, Hookwolf, Coil, and many others. The entirety of the ABB post-Bakuda's takeover falls here as well.
No widespread attacks against civilians.
Theoretically common sense, and the reason, on the surface, why the Truce against the ABB came about. 'Widespread' is the key-word here, and should realistically, probably be swapped out for 'public'. All gangs, by their very nature, inflict widespread attacks against civilians that don't comply (and sometimes even when they do), so it's really all about public perception. The E88 demanding 'protection' money from all who are in their territory (with double or triple price from non-Whites, Jews, and Gays, most likely) should theoretically violate this, but it's more of a 'If Hookwolf kills people, he needs to have a reason and not just because he wanted to go kill some (insert slur here) at night and in a back alley' kind of thing. The rules exist, but, like the fey, as long as no one calls you on breaking them, then it's okay. This is not how rules should work.
Enslaving others with mind control is not permitted.
On one hand, that seems like a common sense thing, on the other hand, that is literally one of the Fallen's powers (Valefor), and, by the Unwritten Rules, everyone, Hero and Villain alike, should be teaming up to kill the heck out of him as soon as he shows up in Brockton Bay. Does this happen? Nope. Will this trend continue in AB? What do you think? On a side note, as much as Lee wants Regent to get better as a person, if Alec goes back to having flesh puppets, Lee will kill him.
No rape or sexual assault of any kind.
The thing that should've brought the entirety of Brockton Bay down on Lung's scaly head. They are known for their sex slavery in Canon, but nothing ever happens. Unpleasant truth of power: a lot of people use it for sexual gratification. On the (relatively) less horrible end you have the open secret of how many people are forced to perform sexual favors to get acting roles in Hollywood, on the other end of the spectrum you have the Congo where men and women are raped at gunpoint by men and women, both many times using everything from genitalia and body parts to the barrel of a gun. Hell, "Lust Rapes" where a person's "needs" must be fulfilled but no one dies are just normal in some rebel-controlled areas of the Congo. Add in superpowers and everything gets worse.
Now, being America (with all the sexual hangups that we have here in Burgerland), that shit needs to be kept relatively on the down low, as the backlash would be much worse than if you just killed someone. What I've taken that to mean, given the altered morality I've had to craft for the public to let Lung openly run sex slavery rings, is that the rule should more likely be read as 'No rape or Sexual Assault of any kind to other capes or in public'.
Lee doesn't add in that implied part of the rule and is more than willing to not only enforce the base rule, but drag out violations of it into the light, forcing all those who've remained willingly blind to see what they've been avoiding. Doing so is not making him any friends. He's used to it.
Don't use guns. If you absolutely have to carry a gun be careful using them. They lead to escalation and death.
If you want to play Cops and Robbers, this is obvious and understandable. Also, trigger discipline is just common sense, and thus woefully rare. Once again, the 'try not to use guns' rule is a rule that is only followed if all the others are. If a villain tries to Mind Control someone, then by the rules it's fire when ready.
Stick to less "lethal" archaic weaponry, swords crossbows shields, things that work with powers.
Less a rule and more a suggestion. Also, guns are strong enough and versatile enough that they simultaneously work with most powers but also break most power themes enough that they add a level of uncertainty that can make Cape Fights much more deadly. Ignoring the ones with synergistic effects (*cough*Vista*cough*), imagine fighting Lady Photon, all bright glowy shields and energy blasts that move slow enough to dodge, when she pulls out a glock and shoots you. No build-up, no chance to block, just getting shot (though hitting a target with a handgun at the range capes would fly at is harder than you'd think if you don't have personal experience). A longsword will kill you just as dead as a sawn-off shotgun, but it's harder to hide and much easier to dodge and/or block.
Then there's the four rules for Endbringer and Class S threats:
No attacking people who volunteer, irrespective of grudges.
No taking advantage of an attack for personal gain or to advance your faction.
No setting up others to die.
Medical care is provided without discrimination for past deeds.
None of these need any explanation. Also, fun fact, Taylor accidentally wondering into Sophia's room and finding out she's Shadow Stalker is not a violation of the Endbringer Truce, it's the PRT being absolute morons (A shocker, I know), and having unmasked Wards in beds in public areas instead of even giving them a basic domino mask. Trying to railroad Taylor for their own mistake, ironically, is breaking the UR, as it would be taking advantage of the attack and setting up villains, not to die, but to be put in a situation where death (or Birdcaging, which is equivalent) is on the table despite not breaking the law or intentionally breaking the UR. The only bargaining chip they have is the Triumvirate right there, and their reputation so if it weren't for the fact that Taylor had evidence of Armsmaster's gross violation of the Endbringer Truce she likely would've ended up forcibly recruited into the Wards, Birdcaged, or dead.
Back on topic, given the nature of Superheroes, if the PRT doesn't have a bunch of disposable masks around in the medical area of an Endbringer fight 'just in case', then they're well past stupid and into willfully, suicidally incompetent. Armsmaster's actions however were as blatant a break as it's possible to do without turning and shooting one of the other Endbringer Fighters in the head mid-battle. Not going to go into that topic, but anyone who supports that man and doesn't put themselves in the 'vigilante' or 'conspirator' category in the CYOA is deluding themselves.
Then there's the last two. The two that no one freaking follows.
If anyone breaks the rules, all willing parahumans work together to effect punitive action.
Please, tell me one time this happens in way that involves both sides of the hero/villain divide. The closest you get is the Anti-ABB Truce, but that was a Villain/Mercenary only endeavor, none of the Non-Protectorate heroes doing jack. Even the Governmental heroes should be helping, by the way the Unwritten Rules are supposed to work. One might argue that the Echidna Incident might count, but that was the Undersiders having to go to the heroes and practically beg them to do their damn jobs, the Travellers were there because it was their teammate, and all of the other villains in the city (like Über & Leet) were nowhere to be found. Back on topic, if this rule was actually in play in Brockton Bay, then the ABB would've been taken down long before the start of canon. Also the Teeth. And the Fallen. And the S9. And likely more, but you get my point.
In reality, the Unwritten Rules have all the threat of the United Nations. While they can make things worse for someone who doesn't obey them, at the end of the day they're fairly useless unless someone enforces them, and that only seems to happen if one of the parties feels like it. Laws that are not consistently enforced are less than useless and undercut the foundation of whatever it is they are supposed to protect. The Unwritten Rules are nice guidelines to follow if you want to keep things cordial, but in reality they're more often than not something that binds the side of good (who wouldn't do half those things anyways), while the evil parahumans break them with impunity, hiding behind them whenever possible, always downplaying their actions and smiling to themselves about how smart they are for gaming the system. And lastly, the most ridiculous of them:
Repeated and flagrant breaking the rules could be grounds to be sent to the Birdcage or for receiving a kill order.
In one direction, Canary should never have been sentenced to the Birdcage. In the other, Lung should've been jumped by several Protectorate teams and been sent to the Birdcage with an armed guard long ago, by these rules. If I recall correctly the excuse was that he was useful against Leviathan once, so what did it matter how many he forced to be repeatedly raped for money or how many he killed as long as they weren't public on the off chance that he decided to fight the Endbringers once more.
So, there's the entirety of the Unwritten Rules in all their 'glory'. When people start yelling about Lee breaking them, with the air of a child tattling to a teacher, remember exactly what the rules are and that they only apply to those who themselves follow them. They're ignored as often as they're enforced, and to the inevitable cry of 'Well Lee's breaking them! He shouldn't be protected by them either!' I have to nod slowly and ask, 'Yes, and?'
Lee has no Secret Identity, and thus has nothing to fear by it getting exposed. He even considers it a 'burner' identity, worth nothing more than a mild inconvenience as he gets a new one. He would outright expect any family he had to be the target of attacks, finding the act of others doing so to be repugnant but he's fighting evil. It's kind of the reason he fights it in the first place. Expecting betrayal at meetings is also something that Lee expects, but something he'd not initiate with honorable opponents, which are the only ones the rules protect anyways. Similarly he wouldn't attack civilians, but would also not be surprised if his opponents did so, because evil.
Lee hates Mind Control as much as he hates Rape and is quickly coming to grips with both being done against innocents without repercussion from the 'heroes'. After all, Heartbreaker exists. He expects guns to be used against him, as they have been, a lot, and other than the Endbringer rules, that's pretty much all of them as Lee doesn't expect others to enforce the rules for anything other than personal gain and short of a top-tier power suppressor he's never seeing the inside of the Birdcage unless he wants to. In terms of Endbringers, he'll fight with the PRT & Villains but has no illusions that someone, be it Hero, Villain, or even the Triumvirate themselves, may try to stab him in the back.
TL;DR: The Unwritten Rules are the Geneva Conventions of Capes, with all that entails. Treating an honorless opponent with honor would be seen by those with (the old type of) honor as the height of stupidity. Lee uses the Unwritten Rules as guidelines when dealing with other capes and already expects no-one to follow them with him, so loses nothing by breaking them if he wanted to. The hypocrisy of other claiming to follow them and not doing so rankles him, but a lot of things rankle him. That being said, Lee tends to generally follow them because he's not a raping, innocent murdering, kill-em-all psychopath. I'm aware that a vocal minority of readers hate characters who believe themselves moral, but please have actual arguments on why the metaphorical paladin should fall, as we're really starting to get to a 'boy who cried wolf' scenario of overusing accusations of self-righteousness with nothing of substance to back them up.
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Reconnoiter 10.9
- Location
- United States of America
Reconnoiter 10.9
The girl didn't say anything else to us, turning on her heel and striding to Brix's front door, opening it with a call of "Dad, you said you'd stop!" I shared a bemused glance with Herb at this. She was definitely Brix's daughter. Not only did she share several facial features with the man in question, but her power was very similar.
A moment later she came back out, dragging a bemused Brix, beer in his hand. The Violet & Rose Red Flames of Dicot Growth & Command wrapped around the teenager in tendrils, reaching out and around her to connect to plants all around her, but not the grass peeking out from underneath the snow at the edges of the driveway. I vaguely remembered what a dicot was from biology class several years ago, classifying a plant by having two parts in the seed, along with other things which I couldn't recall. Her power was interesting as, unlike her father who puppeted trees he grew himself, she connected to all around her and could command it as if it was sentient, though limited by biology. Oh god, I can see the Disney Princess jokes from here.
Glancing over at Herb, I saw him grinning and gave him a stern look. His return look said, 'c'mon man! It's right there!'. I glared at him, giving a small shake of my head. He just rolled his eyes, and we both looked back at Brix, who himself was looking between us with a smile mostly hidden under his beard.
"You said you'd stop doing this after last time," the girl said, folding her arms in annoyance.
Brix took a long pull from his drink, pointing out, "Those were villains. These two boys bein' heroes, or so they say, are bein' a different thin' altogether."
"Hey, I'm a villain!" Herb protested.
I sighed as Brix looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "He's really not. He watched the A-Team as a kid, and took to the entire 'villain helping the little man, regardless of what those in power want' message."
"But you're a hero?" the still unnamed girl asked, expression guarded.
I nodded and Brix said, "See, honey? This bein' a completely different situation from what I be sayin' I wouldn't be doin."
She waved at the shed behind us. "And you didn't make them go mapling?"
He shrugged, "They did a good enough job."
"Dad, you know-really?" she asked, surprise derailing her thoughts, glancing over at us. Herb just smiled and gave her another friendly wave.
"'sides, I said I'd let 'em stay for a day or two to try to convince me to join their group. It'd be mighty disrespectful to turn them away now," Brix reasoned.
She frowned, sigh, and pointed to me. "You're a hero, right?" I nodded. "Fine. I'm going to go change and you'll help me collect more sap. Dad'll show your friend how to work the filter." She headed back into the house without another word.
"So, Daughter?" Herb asked for a moment.
Brix nodded, "Hedera's more like her mother every year." He glanced over to me, "I don't need to say anythin', do I?"
"In the woods you completely control?" I shot back, getting a nod from him. "I'm heroic, not idiotic."
Half an hour later, Brix's daughter, Hedera, was out and leading me back into the woods. While we were waiting Brix showed us the device which used reverse osmosis to filter out a large portion of the water, cutting down on the time needed to cook the sap by quite a bit. I grabbed snacks from the car for Herb and myself, sharing them with Brix who was mildly amused at my preparedness.
Before we left I had grabbed several large jugs, getting a raised eyebrow from her until I said, "Brute," which caused her to hand me a few more. Once we were well and out into the woods, she used her own power to affect the trees around us, causing the sap to flow once more. Given her non-combatant status, I had no qualms grabbing her power as well, making sure to keep it from activating immediately. After gathering sap for a bit, she finally stated, "He's not going to say yes, you know."
I just shrugged, "I assumed so, but it didn't hurt to try. Besides, I'm making maple syrup in Maine, which is kinda cool, even if it is out of season." Her power faltered and gathered in the trees around us, ready to grow them out, likely to try to entrap me. "Nice of your dad to use his power to make it happen, and his range is something else," I continued calmly. Her power dissipated, the flow of sap picking back up again.
"Uh, yeah," she agreed, looking away guiltily. I considered pointing out that it wasn't like she could actually stop me, but that would likely do more harm than good. "But if you know he's not going to say yes, why are you still here?" I looked at her questioningly. "Not that I want you to leave," she added hastily. "But, why?"
I sighed, moving to another tree and pouring the gathered sap into one of my larger jugs. "I needed a vacation, and Brockton Bay's been. . . a bit much," I admitted. "Herb and I had a bit of a falling out, and I've been trying to figure out how to make that work as well, though that's been. . . difficult."
"Herb?" she asked, confused. "You mean Break?"
I froze, not realizing that I'd used his wrong name. I sighed, shaking my head, "Yeah, his name's Herb. Mine's Lee. Neither of us have much of a life outside of hero-ing, so it's not that big a deal."
"But, your family," she started to ask, trailing off.
"My brother has a different last name," I explained, the chances of him using the same fake last name for his identity here were astronomical, "and my parents," and now it was my turn to trail off. My dad. . . didn't really seem like my dad anymore. The time I'd met him there were flashes of him in the body he now inhabited, but there were also flashes of someone else entirely. My mom was back home, and I wondered what happened to her, suddenly finding herself alone. It was something that I hadn't really thought about, though saying it was something I hadn't really wanted to think about would be more accurate.
"My mom's gone too," she admitted, seeing something in my face that prompted her.
"You don't need to-" I started to say, but she shook her head and kept going.
"I only kind of remember her," the teen continued, as if I hadn't said anything. "I only kind of remember her. She left when I was young. Dad won't say why. She moved to New York, and died in a cape fight. She wasn't even involved, just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I think that's why dad retired." She looked over at me, "That's why he's not going to help you."
"That. . . sucks," I said lamely, unsure what to do. "Did they catch who did it?"
She nodded, "Ayuh. Broke out of prison a month later. Died fighting someone else. Another villain. Bitch."
I had a moment where I wondered if it was Rachel, but no, she was just calling the person a bitch. I wasn't sure if she was referring to the cape who killed her mom, or the cape who killed the cape who killed her mom.
"You're a hero," she said, more to herself than to me, "you ever kill anyone? I know Break, Herb has. I've seen the video."
"Civilians? No," I stated. "Murderous gang bangers? Yes, though for obvious legal reasons I'll deny it if officially asked. If you've been following what happened in Brockton Bay, you know what happened there."
She almost negligently used her power to make the sap flow, overdoing it a little and making it flow like a hose. It tapered off after a moment when she realized what she was doing, and she shot me a sheepish look. "I think your dad wants us to come back," I remarked dryly.
"He can wait," she dismissed. "Why?"
"Why what?" I asked in return.
"Why did you do it? Why didn't you take them down like a real hero?" she clarified, likely not meaning the insult she conveyed.
"The longer I took, the more bombs went off, the more innocents died," I said. I knew I likely could've stopped it on the first day, but to do so would've required me to do the entire thing myself, and there would've been no way to do so without slaughtering the ABB en masse until I found Bakuda's lab, which would've in turn brought down more attention I could handle, which would've meant I would've had to reveal my hand, which would've brought even more attention, which would pit me against the entirety of the PRT, and likely most of the parahuman population of the world. I could fight them, or I could gain strength and fight Scion. Not both.
"And Herb?" she asked.
I just shrugged, "You'll have to ask him. He's less utilitarian, so it was more likely they tried to kill him and his, so he stopped them and returned the favor."
She didn't have a response to that.
Returning back with several more jugs of sap, Brix looked up at his daughter, concern hidden but evident in his eyes. She gave a small shake of her head, and he relaxed a little. His power, which has started to flow out when we approached, slackened off to what appeared to be its resting state. Herb groaned at the additional material he needed to process, but grinned as he did so, moving them to the other barrels he had hooked up to a large, complex looking machine.
"This'll be workin' for a while, ya just needin' to be makin' sure ya don't run it dry," Brix said, standing up and walking back towards his house. "I'll be showin' ya where ya both'll be sleepin'."
As we followed him Herb shot me a look. At my incomprehension he whispered, "Things goin' well?"
"Um, Yes?" I whispered back, having no idea what he was referring to.
"Should Taylor be worried?" he teased. Reading my confusion, he sighed, "I guess she shouldn't. Don't worry, I got this."
Oh god. He has a plan. I thought. And there's no way for me to find out what it is. Shit. Brix led us inside the spacious, two-story house, showing us the room we'd be sharing. I dropped my overnight bag inside, and the Mainer appeared unimpressed at Herb's lack of luggage. "A bank card is all you'll need, huh?" I asked my teammate, giving him a hard time.
Shooting me an annoyed look, Herb turned to Hedera. "Where's the nearest mall?"
"Uh, Presque?" she said, not sure why he was asking.
"And where's that?" he asked.
"Forty-five minutes that way," she replied, waving in a westerly fashion.
He nodded, opening a window in the room. Disappearing with a faint crack of collapsing air, a pterodactyl appeared outside, gave a few flaps, and flew up into the sky. Brix and his daughter stood for a moment, stunned. Having Seen his power, I knew he hadn't teleported, but turned into something very small which passed through the screen at high speed before shifting to his dinosaur form and leaving me behind.
"He'll be back in an hour, tops," I announced. Hopefully, I added internally.
Brix turned to look at me, incredulous. "Are you tellin' me that he be usin' his power to go shopping?"
I shrugged, "Says the guy who uses his power to make maple syrup."
He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. "Fair enough," he admitted. "You want to be waitin' for him to come back?"
I shrugged again, "Sure. Anything else you want me to do while I'm here?" I tapped my bug control. "Get the ants out of your basement?"
He just stared at me before shaking his head, heading back downstairs. "Ayuh. Might as well."
Joining him downstairs, he'd poured out a drink for himself, and offered one for me. Taking him up on it, Hedera rolled her eyes and put a kettle on, muttering "men" underneath her breath. Sitting down, I took a sip, and it tasted like maple whiskey. Looking over at Brix, I could see him hiding a smile underneath his beard. "It's good," I complimented what I was ninety percent sure was his own home-made alcohol.
"So, I was wondering," I asked after a long few moments. "When I asked about you in town, they didn't seem happy to see me."
"Hmph. Buncha cheap bastards," Brix grunted. "They got themselves a bit of a villain problem, and they want old Brix to help them."
"You could," Hedera called from the kitchen.
"And they could pay me," he called right back with the air of having had this argument many times before. "Those revenuers kife my hard-earned profits, they can either be payin' me like I'm supposed to be payin' them, or they can be gettin' one of those goverm'nt capes to do it," he stated, settling back into his chair as if he'd just won an argument.
"What kind of villains are we talking about?" I asked. "Because they run the gamut from Break, who calls himself a villain but is really a hero with odd ideas, to the late Hookwolf, who had a hefty body count, to anyone on the Slaughterhouse nine."
"Don't rightly care," he replied. "They be knowin' better than to mess with me and mine."
"People have gone missing," Hedera said, coming in and taking a seat. So. Murder, at the very least, I mused. More than enough reason to pay them a visit. "People are scared," she continued, shooting her father a significant look, to which he just laughed.
"Not scared enough to pay," was his rebuttal, and in a very cold sense I had to admit he had a point. Then again, I wouldn't be taking my payment in money, but powers.
"Do you know where they are?" I asked Hedera.
She ignored her father's derisive snort and shook her head. "They're in the mountains," she said, "to the south. They've hit Patten too."
"You should let the Protectorate protect them," her father argued.
It was my turn to snort derisively. At his look I had to say, "You really expect the Protectorate to help? If I waited for them to work in Brockton Bay, where they have a main office, the bombs would still be going off and people would still be dying."
He opened his mouth to counter what I said, but paused as it sunk in, nodding. "Can't be rightly arguin' that. They are a bunch of numb, lazy parasites. Why you be doin' their job for them?"
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," I hedged. "Best to keep my options open. Hedera, do you know their numbers, powers, anything like that?"
She frowned, thinking hard. "There's at least two of them. One's a blaster with Ice powers, and another is a striker who uses poison. I don't know anything else. Sorry."
"More intel then if I went in blind," I reassured her. "PHO?" she nodded and Brix muttered about kids and their computers under his breath. "So," I said after a long moment and after taking anoth sip of maple whiskey. "How does the entire maple syrup thing work when you're not using powers to cheat?"
Herb returned nearly an hour later, carrying a couple of shopping bags. He stopped, looking at us with a smile as Brix talked about the world of black market maple syrup and "barrel rollers." A knowledge which he stated was entirely hypothetical with a "now I not be sayin' that I ever be doin' this, but you hear things if you stop 'n' listen." Smiling, he joined us as Brix finished up.
He looked between the two of us, got up, and poured himself another whiskey, offering both of us some more, which we accepted. Herb laughed after taking a sip, quickly apologizing and taking another. "Alright. So you flatlanders be wantin' me to join your team. Why should I?"
"For pay, to help people, to fight evil, take your pick," I replied easily. If what Hedera had said was true, then this was a lost cause, but at least it'd be good practice for others. "Things are getting worse and worse, and while those with power can carve out their place in the world, or at least try to defend themselves, others don't have the power be it political, financial, or parahuman, to do so. Now, on a personal level I don't care about those who don't at least try to help themselves, but no amount of initiative, ingenuity, or integrity will save you from Heartbreaker, Crawler, or the Simurgh."
"Add in governmental corruption, which is unfortunately redundant, and diffusion of responsibility and you have people punished for trying to help others because they aren't slaving themselves to a non-functional system. The Penumbral Defenders say 'screw that'," I stated with authority, swinging my free hand out in emphasis. "A mad bomber is destroying the city piece by piece and the PRT is sitting on their hands? We'll work with villains if that's what it takes to fight a greater evil. If, in the process, we flip a few black hats that were on the other side through no fault of their own? Even better."
"The Protectorate comes down hard on troubled teens, but lets raping, murdering, pieces of filth like Lung off time and time again. If a normal person did half the things he did, the cops would go after him hard. However, because he was strong, the PRT allowed him to," I paused, memories of the second raid bubbling to the surface. "He was kidnapping kids, having his men rape them, and sell them into sexual slavery," I said quietly, my voice still carrying throughout the space.
Hedera gasped and Brix's face was stone. Looking over, Herb looked equally shocked and angry, which surprised me. Didn't he know? "Hedera, you're on PHO. Did you see the video people took of the kids I brought to the hospital?" I asked.
She shook her head, eyes wide "I heard about it, but it was removed and anyone who tried to post it was banned." She said. "No one knew what happened."
"They had a fuckin' breakin' station?" growled Herb almost animalistically. I'd never heard the phrase before, but the meaning was clear enough, and I nodded. "I shoulda hurt him more."
"This was going on for god knows how long," I told the two sitting opposite of me. "It was well known by the locals, just as the Merchants dealt drugs to everyone, including kids, and that the E88 were white supremacists, that the ABB's distinguishing crime was sex slavery, but no one wanted to think what that really meant," I stated coldly. "They had territory that could be targeted, their members were known, hell, their leader was such a hubristic asshat he regularly got into fights with other teams. All it would've taken was calling in some help from another department or two for a few days, a week at most, and they could've been stopped. That is part of what we want to do, to fight the real monsters. Not the showboating jerks like Über and L33t. Not small time heist groups like the Undersiders. Our foes are those that make the world worse by their very presence, and who've been given free rein to do as they wished because they were strong."
"The thing about the entire struggle of Good versus Evil?" I asked rhetorically. "Evil is usually individually stronger. The Darwinian, 'survival of the fittest' world Evil lives in leads to that kind of isolated power. But Good? Good is supposed to win because they work together. Laugh about the 'power of friendship' BS that gets thrown around, but at its core it's not wrong. However, those who are held up as the epitome of righteousness, those who are supported as working on the side of angels? At least in Brockton Bay, they're just as bad, if not worse then the villains. Not because they commit atrocities, but because they're a trap, a comforting lie that lures in people that want to help, binds them in regulation, isolates them, and keeps them from doing anything."
"And supposin' I don't want to fight?" Brix proposed, watching me carefully.
"Then you don't have to!" I replied immediately, "The way things are going, it's going to get worse before it gets better, and the people are going to need help that government will either be too slow to provide, assuming the help doesn't get siphoned away in a thousand little ways into a thousand little pockets, each corrupt official telling themselves that they're only taking a little, or that they know how this can really help people, supporting those they like and leaving those they don't, which nine times out of ten are the poor working class, to suffer."
I looked him in the eye, "I'm not asking you to work for free, or for the 'good of the cause' or some utopian nonsense, but with your power you could help rebuild after a disaster, at least provide a bit of shelter for those in need." I motioned to the perfectly fitting hardwood floor under our feet, the surface not made of individual boards but a continuous piece of timber, "Unless you want me to believe you found a rectangular tree to cut up to make this place."
I sighed, feeling oddly drained, "People focus on the fight, and the fight is important. You can't help people if you're dead. But just as important is the recovery afterwards. We've got a secure base of operations to weather whatever storm comes our way, and a secondary fallback point if necessary, but being safe ourselves means a lot less if we can't help innocents after the combat ends, the rubble settles, and a new day dawns. There's always another fight, and will be until the Endbringers are ended themselves, but without people helping in the background it's incredibly easy to win the most of the fights but lose the war."
At my pronouncement, there was silence. Herb stared at his feet, face stony in anger, but not directed at any of us. Hedera was glancing between Herb and I, occasionally glancing to her father. Her father, however, looked thoughtful. "You've given me somethin' to chew on," he announced, slowly standing up. "And somethin' that's gonna take a bit. I'm gonna go get started on suppah. I'm not sayin' yuh, mind ya, but I'm not sayin' nah either."
After a quiet dinner Hedera asked me if I'd be willing to talk more about what had happened that had ended up dropping the kids off at the hospital. With some slight tweaks, like saying that the gun I'd created with Miss Milita's power was a Tinker firearm I'd gotten from Arachne, I took her through the entire thing, step by step. It wasn't pretty, but recounting it was cathartic after a fashion. After it'd happened I'd not thought about it, too busy trying to keep going forward, but going over it again helped, oddly enough. Herb listened in silence, along with Brix, though the latter's interest spiked when I described Lucas' Trigger event. I remembered halfway through that Shards tried to scrub that knowledge from parahumans' memories, but, likely because I never mentioned The Warrior, that didn't happen to the father and daughter listening to me.
We all went to bed shortly afterwards, the sun having barely set, but a few hours of meditation later I was awake and at the ready. Cloaked in a Sound Bubble, I sneaked out the window, setting the screen back in place behind me, and moved to my car. Opening up the trunk, I lifted the fake cover up from the bottom and extracted the PSAT from the storage that would normally carry an extra tire. Silently closing the trunk, I rose up into the sky and headed almost directly west towards my target.
This far out everything was almost completely black, the moon a thin crescent rising in the sky, lights few and far between as I flew, hiding in Shadowform, across the border into Canada. The lights started to grow in number and intensity, and I found Quebec city, glowing like a veritable jewel in the night compared to the inky blackness of rural Maine. Dropping down enough to get service on my phone, I re-oriented myself and moved on, flying for at least another hour.
One more check and one more course correction later, I found what I was looking for. It was decently well hidden, looking like an upscale campground in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. If I'd been moving faster, higher, or not knowing what I was looking for, I could've easily missed it. Flying high, high above, thankful for the lack of clouds, I brought the PSAT up and viewed through the scope. The weapon automatically zoomed in on the ground over two miles below.
The air was thin, but a bit of Aerokinesis solved that problem, and the frigid air didn't bother me in the slightest. I was actually thankful for the feeling of the cold, feeling brisk but not uncomfortable, as I felt sick to my stomach below me.
I'd call it an orgy, but that would suggest that more than one person was having fun, that there were people paring up in blind hedonism instead of over a dozen woman fawning over one scrawny, naked man as he casually thrusted, seemingly bored by it. Moving the scope minutely helped me scan the surrounding area, more women in the area, along with quite a few kids and several men handling the heavier labor, though they were heavily outnumbered by the women.
Taking my eye off the scope I tried to See him, but at this distance I couldn't even make out his power. Even opening up the eyes of my mask, the night suddenly painted in rich, velvety tones, didn't let me See his power. Re-covering my eyes, the blackness below me becoming the same visible darkness the night now became for me, I sighed. It was likely for the best. Heartbreaker's power was evil, the complete destruction of the minds of others. I'd happily torture someone to death before I'd do that to them, destroying who they were and replacing them with a poor, twisted facsimile of who they used to be.
Victor's power had a use, and I still felt a slight pull to use it again. The more I knew the fewer mistakes I'd make and the more people I could save but it was still wrong. With Heartbreaker's power it would be so deliciously easy to take over the world. Sneak into Congress, make everyone my friend and make them do their damn jobs, and pull America out of the spiral it was in. I could even seen the rationalization, as they'd all sworn an oath of office and were violating it daily. I'd just enforce the pledge they'd willingly taken, along with the privileges that had come with the obligation. It wouldn't be my fault that they made promises with no intention of following through on them, after all.
Other countries would fall in line even easier, and I could focus on killing Scion. Power controlled locations would be difficult, but I could sneak into Cauldron easy enough and unlike Weld's ragtag army I wouldn't try to doom the world with my tantrum, I'd save it. I could do all of that, and all I'd have to sacrifice was my morals, and the minds of everyone that opposed me. Even if I had the power I wouldn't do so, or at least that's what I told myself, but the temptation was so strong to make people stop being so stupid and be truthful was scarily powerful.
No, while I was of the definite belief that it was good to have aces up one's sleeve just in case I needed them, to go down this path I might as well have Panacea break Taylor's power, copy that, and use Doormaker & Clairvoyant to replicate Canon, only without the twenty-two millimeter lobotomy at the end. If I had to mind control humanity to save it, then it didn't deserve to be saved. I wouldn't need to, and if it turned out that I did. . . Then fuck it, and fuck them. I'd gather the powers and pull a Noah, rebuilding humanity on Mars if the rot ran straight through to the core.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed those thoughts away. However this all turned out, what I was doing now was the right thing. Re-sighting in on Heartbreaker he'd moved to a different sex puppet, the woman's expression rapturous as it turned my stomach. I considered waiting for him to step away from them, but these women were effectively dead. They were broken things that would never recover from a violation far deeper than even what Lung had been doing to those children.
Turning the PSAT on, it hummed, starting to glow. The Aerokinesis that kept me supplied with air jumped in difficulty to maintain, but was still easily doable as the only other things vying for my attention being keeping my aim stable and keeping myself stationary in the air. The oily feeling grew, and grew, and grew, extending outwards in every direction.
It took nearly ten minutes before the ready light turned on, the charged air extending hundreds of feet in every direction, if not farther. Flicking the camera Theo had affixed to the scope on I made sure to take a deep breath and let go of the air, which expanded out around me as I held my breath, just in case that would change the weapon's effects. After one last time sighting in on my target, I breathed out and pulled the trigger.
Just like when Theo had fired it, time seemed to slow. Careful to keep my aim steady, I opened my the eye not staring down the scope to look around me as best I could. The energy, unseen, swirled in towards me in fractal patterns. What had before been a pattern a dozen feet across, and almost two dimensional, became a latticework a hundred feet across and perfectly spherical as the accumulated energy, enough to kill me in an instant, silently screamed towards me.
Trusting in Theo's design, I held still, the energy swirling up and around me, never quite touching as it started to light up the plates running down the length of the barrel. What had glowed like a bonfire before no shone like a series of rectangular suns, casting light in every direction, even illuminating the compound far, far below.
Heartbreaker, facing down, started to turn, twisting at a slug's pace, as his death continued to slowly unfold. Gathering in front of the tip the energy became lightning, not one bolt, but dozens, all flowing downwards towards the Master in interweaving patterns so bright that I knew, if my eyes had not been supernaturally able to handle what I saw, it would leave me blinded.
The bolts, interweaving, dancing around each other, seeming to race each other down their unfolding path, taking what felt like a full minute to reach their target, but by how much those far below had moved, couldn't've been more than a few seconds. By the time that Heartbreaker had turned to face me the bolts were a scant hundred feet from the ground. Even if he could've seen me to try to use his power on me, the luminescence of the bolts would've rendered his power useless, unable to see anything but the oncoming bolts.
They struck him, the ground below him, those around him, and everything within twenty feet. From there the energy blasted into the ground, rebounding outwards, striking every exposed inch of the compound. His death was instantaneous, flesh instantly blackening as it was blown apart by the sheer force of the energy his body was forced to try to conduct. The devastation the PSAT wrought was horrible, it was beautiful, it was a sight that I doubted I would ever forget. Whatever let me see this work also showed me how it functioned in detail how every man, woman, child died in what, to them, would be an instant, but to me seemed like an eternity.
My Acoustokinesis kicked in automatically as the simultaneous thunderclaps from easily over two dozen lightning strikes wrapped around me as the sky split open and everything below me died. Time returned to normal and the muted echoes of the PSAT's discharge thundered back up at me from below. The warning light of the weapon was shining a baleful red, warning that, despite what Theo had thought, I only had one shot from his weapon, not that I needed another. The forest below me was on fire, a jagged, blackened circle where the compound used to be, bits of glowing hot stone and metal lighting the area in a hellish light.
I'd headed North at first, dropping below the ground before returning back to Brix's house. Once I was close I rose above the treeline once more, dropping out of Shadowform. Silently landing next to my car, I opened the trunk once more, freezing as the faintest sound of a single tree moving was carried to me by my Acoustokinesis.
Turning around slowly, I saw Brix standing there, the tree at the edge of the parking area partially open, revealing a hollow inside. "It be mighty suspicious, sneakin' around at night with a piece of tech like that," he pouted out calmly, his power reaching out to control trees all around us, and trees hidden underground.
I turned my back to him, putting the weapon away and closing the fake bottom. If he attacked me, I'd defeat him. If he tried to kill me, I'd return the favor. I really didn't want to do either. "I was taking care of a problem that was long overdue for being solved," I stated, not bothering to silence the sound of the trunk closing.
"Those villains up in the mountains," he asked, and looked annoyed when I couldn't help but laugh.
"No, I heard about them this afternoon. I don't normally carry Tinker canons in my car for fun." I felt tired again, so tired, and resolved to get some actual sleep before morning came. "Trust me, if I took care of a local problem, you'd either notice immediately, or not at all. I tend to be fairly all or nothing about those things. No, I was dealing with a rot that Canada allowed to fester for so long; it almost explains why the Birdcage is there, given the evil their government, and by extension their people, have no problem ignoring."
He looked at me, confused, and I sighed, weary beyond words. "Brix, If you haven't guessed by lunch, I'll tell you, but I don't think I'll have to tell you."
The girl didn't say anything else to us, turning on her heel and striding to Brix's front door, opening it with a call of "Dad, you said you'd stop!" I shared a bemused glance with Herb at this. She was definitely Brix's daughter. Not only did she share several facial features with the man in question, but her power was very similar.
A moment later she came back out, dragging a bemused Brix, beer in his hand. The Violet & Rose Red Flames of Dicot Growth & Command wrapped around the teenager in tendrils, reaching out and around her to connect to plants all around her, but not the grass peeking out from underneath the snow at the edges of the driveway. I vaguely remembered what a dicot was from biology class several years ago, classifying a plant by having two parts in the seed, along with other things which I couldn't recall. Her power was interesting as, unlike her father who puppeted trees he grew himself, she connected to all around her and could command it as if it was sentient, though limited by biology. Oh god, I can see the Disney Princess jokes from here.
Glancing over at Herb, I saw him grinning and gave him a stern look. His return look said, 'c'mon man! It's right there!'. I glared at him, giving a small shake of my head. He just rolled his eyes, and we both looked back at Brix, who himself was looking between us with a smile mostly hidden under his beard.
"You said you'd stop doing this after last time," the girl said, folding her arms in annoyance.
Brix took a long pull from his drink, pointing out, "Those were villains. These two boys bein' heroes, or so they say, are bein' a different thin' altogether."
"Hey, I'm a villain!" Herb protested.
I sighed as Brix looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "He's really not. He watched the A-Team as a kid, and took to the entire 'villain helping the little man, regardless of what those in power want' message."
"But you're a hero?" the still unnamed girl asked, expression guarded.
I nodded and Brix said, "See, honey? This bein' a completely different situation from what I be sayin' I wouldn't be doin."
She waved at the shed behind us. "And you didn't make them go mapling?"
He shrugged, "They did a good enough job."
"Dad, you know-really?" she asked, surprise derailing her thoughts, glancing over at us. Herb just smiled and gave her another friendly wave.
"'sides, I said I'd let 'em stay for a day or two to try to convince me to join their group. It'd be mighty disrespectful to turn them away now," Brix reasoned.
She frowned, sigh, and pointed to me. "You're a hero, right?" I nodded. "Fine. I'm going to go change and you'll help me collect more sap. Dad'll show your friend how to work the filter." She headed back into the house without another word.
"So, Daughter?" Herb asked for a moment.
Brix nodded, "Hedera's more like her mother every year." He glanced over to me, "I don't need to say anythin', do I?"
"In the woods you completely control?" I shot back, getting a nod from him. "I'm heroic, not idiotic."
Half an hour later, Brix's daughter, Hedera, was out and leading me back into the woods. While we were waiting Brix showed us the device which used reverse osmosis to filter out a large portion of the water, cutting down on the time needed to cook the sap by quite a bit. I grabbed snacks from the car for Herb and myself, sharing them with Brix who was mildly amused at my preparedness.
Before we left I had grabbed several large jugs, getting a raised eyebrow from her until I said, "Brute," which caused her to hand me a few more. Once we were well and out into the woods, she used her own power to affect the trees around us, causing the sap to flow once more. Given her non-combatant status, I had no qualms grabbing her power as well, making sure to keep it from activating immediately. After gathering sap for a bit, she finally stated, "He's not going to say yes, you know."
I just shrugged, "I assumed so, but it didn't hurt to try. Besides, I'm making maple syrup in Maine, which is kinda cool, even if it is out of season." Her power faltered and gathered in the trees around us, ready to grow them out, likely to try to entrap me. "Nice of your dad to use his power to make it happen, and his range is something else," I continued calmly. Her power dissipated, the flow of sap picking back up again.
"Uh, yeah," she agreed, looking away guiltily. I considered pointing out that it wasn't like she could actually stop me, but that would likely do more harm than good. "But if you know he's not going to say yes, why are you still here?" I looked at her questioningly. "Not that I want you to leave," she added hastily. "But, why?"
I sighed, moving to another tree and pouring the gathered sap into one of my larger jugs. "I needed a vacation, and Brockton Bay's been. . . a bit much," I admitted. "Herb and I had a bit of a falling out, and I've been trying to figure out how to make that work as well, though that's been. . . difficult."
"Herb?" she asked, confused. "You mean Break?"
I froze, not realizing that I'd used his wrong name. I sighed, shaking my head, "Yeah, his name's Herb. Mine's Lee. Neither of us have much of a life outside of hero-ing, so it's not that big a deal."
"But, your family," she started to ask, trailing off.
"My brother has a different last name," I explained, the chances of him using the same fake last name for his identity here were astronomical, "and my parents," and now it was my turn to trail off. My dad. . . didn't really seem like my dad anymore. The time I'd met him there were flashes of him in the body he now inhabited, but there were also flashes of someone else entirely. My mom was back home, and I wondered what happened to her, suddenly finding herself alone. It was something that I hadn't really thought about, though saying it was something I hadn't really wanted to think about would be more accurate.
"My mom's gone too," she admitted, seeing something in my face that prompted her.
"You don't need to-" I started to say, but she shook her head and kept going.
"I only kind of remember her," the teen continued, as if I hadn't said anything. "I only kind of remember her. She left when I was young. Dad won't say why. She moved to New York, and died in a cape fight. She wasn't even involved, just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I think that's why dad retired." She looked over at me, "That's why he's not going to help you."
"That. . . sucks," I said lamely, unsure what to do. "Did they catch who did it?"
She nodded, "Ayuh. Broke out of prison a month later. Died fighting someone else. Another villain. Bitch."
I had a moment where I wondered if it was Rachel, but no, she was just calling the person a bitch. I wasn't sure if she was referring to the cape who killed her mom, or the cape who killed the cape who killed her mom.
"You're a hero," she said, more to herself than to me, "you ever kill anyone? I know Break, Herb has. I've seen the video."
"Civilians? No," I stated. "Murderous gang bangers? Yes, though for obvious legal reasons I'll deny it if officially asked. If you've been following what happened in Brockton Bay, you know what happened there."
She almost negligently used her power to make the sap flow, overdoing it a little and making it flow like a hose. It tapered off after a moment when she realized what she was doing, and she shot me a sheepish look. "I think your dad wants us to come back," I remarked dryly.
"He can wait," she dismissed. "Why?"
"Why what?" I asked in return.
"Why did you do it? Why didn't you take them down like a real hero?" she clarified, likely not meaning the insult she conveyed.
"The longer I took, the more bombs went off, the more innocents died," I said. I knew I likely could've stopped it on the first day, but to do so would've required me to do the entire thing myself, and there would've been no way to do so without slaughtering the ABB en masse until I found Bakuda's lab, which would've in turn brought down more attention I could handle, which would've meant I would've had to reveal my hand, which would've brought even more attention, which would pit me against the entirety of the PRT, and likely most of the parahuman population of the world. I could fight them, or I could gain strength and fight Scion. Not both.
"And Herb?" she asked.
I just shrugged, "You'll have to ask him. He's less utilitarian, so it was more likely they tried to kill him and his, so he stopped them and returned the favor."
She didn't have a response to that.
Returning back with several more jugs of sap, Brix looked up at his daughter, concern hidden but evident in his eyes. She gave a small shake of her head, and he relaxed a little. His power, which has started to flow out when we approached, slackened off to what appeared to be its resting state. Herb groaned at the additional material he needed to process, but grinned as he did so, moving them to the other barrels he had hooked up to a large, complex looking machine.
"This'll be workin' for a while, ya just needin' to be makin' sure ya don't run it dry," Brix said, standing up and walking back towards his house. "I'll be showin' ya where ya both'll be sleepin'."
As we followed him Herb shot me a look. At my incomprehension he whispered, "Things goin' well?"
"Um, Yes?" I whispered back, having no idea what he was referring to.
"Should Taylor be worried?" he teased. Reading my confusion, he sighed, "I guess she shouldn't. Don't worry, I got this."
Oh god. He has a plan. I thought. And there's no way for me to find out what it is. Shit. Brix led us inside the spacious, two-story house, showing us the room we'd be sharing. I dropped my overnight bag inside, and the Mainer appeared unimpressed at Herb's lack of luggage. "A bank card is all you'll need, huh?" I asked my teammate, giving him a hard time.
Shooting me an annoyed look, Herb turned to Hedera. "Where's the nearest mall?"
"Uh, Presque?" she said, not sure why he was asking.
"And where's that?" he asked.
"Forty-five minutes that way," she replied, waving in a westerly fashion.
He nodded, opening a window in the room. Disappearing with a faint crack of collapsing air, a pterodactyl appeared outside, gave a few flaps, and flew up into the sky. Brix and his daughter stood for a moment, stunned. Having Seen his power, I knew he hadn't teleported, but turned into something very small which passed through the screen at high speed before shifting to his dinosaur form and leaving me behind.
"He'll be back in an hour, tops," I announced. Hopefully, I added internally.
Brix turned to look at me, incredulous. "Are you tellin' me that he be usin' his power to go shopping?"
I shrugged, "Says the guy who uses his power to make maple syrup."
He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. "Fair enough," he admitted. "You want to be waitin' for him to come back?"
I shrugged again, "Sure. Anything else you want me to do while I'm here?" I tapped my bug control. "Get the ants out of your basement?"
He just stared at me before shaking his head, heading back downstairs. "Ayuh. Might as well."
Joining him downstairs, he'd poured out a drink for himself, and offered one for me. Taking him up on it, Hedera rolled her eyes and put a kettle on, muttering "men" underneath her breath. Sitting down, I took a sip, and it tasted like maple whiskey. Looking over at Brix, I could see him hiding a smile underneath his beard. "It's good," I complimented what I was ninety percent sure was his own home-made alcohol.
"So, I was wondering," I asked after a long few moments. "When I asked about you in town, they didn't seem happy to see me."
"Hmph. Buncha cheap bastards," Brix grunted. "They got themselves a bit of a villain problem, and they want old Brix to help them."
"You could," Hedera called from the kitchen.
"And they could pay me," he called right back with the air of having had this argument many times before. "Those revenuers kife my hard-earned profits, they can either be payin' me like I'm supposed to be payin' them, or they can be gettin' one of those goverm'nt capes to do it," he stated, settling back into his chair as if he'd just won an argument.
"What kind of villains are we talking about?" I asked. "Because they run the gamut from Break, who calls himself a villain but is really a hero with odd ideas, to the late Hookwolf, who had a hefty body count, to anyone on the Slaughterhouse nine."
"Don't rightly care," he replied. "They be knowin' better than to mess with me and mine."
"People have gone missing," Hedera said, coming in and taking a seat. So. Murder, at the very least, I mused. More than enough reason to pay them a visit. "People are scared," she continued, shooting her father a significant look, to which he just laughed.
"Not scared enough to pay," was his rebuttal, and in a very cold sense I had to admit he had a point. Then again, I wouldn't be taking my payment in money, but powers.
"Do you know where they are?" I asked Hedera.
She ignored her father's derisive snort and shook her head. "They're in the mountains," she said, "to the south. They've hit Patten too."
"You should let the Protectorate protect them," her father argued.
It was my turn to snort derisively. At his look I had to say, "You really expect the Protectorate to help? If I waited for them to work in Brockton Bay, where they have a main office, the bombs would still be going off and people would still be dying."
He opened his mouth to counter what I said, but paused as it sunk in, nodding. "Can't be rightly arguin' that. They are a bunch of numb, lazy parasites. Why you be doin' their job for them?"
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," I hedged. "Best to keep my options open. Hedera, do you know their numbers, powers, anything like that?"
She frowned, thinking hard. "There's at least two of them. One's a blaster with Ice powers, and another is a striker who uses poison. I don't know anything else. Sorry."
"More intel then if I went in blind," I reassured her. "PHO?" she nodded and Brix muttered about kids and their computers under his breath. "So," I said after a long moment and after taking anoth sip of maple whiskey. "How does the entire maple syrup thing work when you're not using powers to cheat?"
Herb returned nearly an hour later, carrying a couple of shopping bags. He stopped, looking at us with a smile as Brix talked about the world of black market maple syrup and "barrel rollers." A knowledge which he stated was entirely hypothetical with a "now I not be sayin' that I ever be doin' this, but you hear things if you stop 'n' listen." Smiling, he joined us as Brix finished up.
He looked between the two of us, got up, and poured himself another whiskey, offering both of us some more, which we accepted. Herb laughed after taking a sip, quickly apologizing and taking another. "Alright. So you flatlanders be wantin' me to join your team. Why should I?"
"For pay, to help people, to fight evil, take your pick," I replied easily. If what Hedera had said was true, then this was a lost cause, but at least it'd be good practice for others. "Things are getting worse and worse, and while those with power can carve out their place in the world, or at least try to defend themselves, others don't have the power be it political, financial, or parahuman, to do so. Now, on a personal level I don't care about those who don't at least try to help themselves, but no amount of initiative, ingenuity, or integrity will save you from Heartbreaker, Crawler, or the Simurgh."
"Add in governmental corruption, which is unfortunately redundant, and diffusion of responsibility and you have people punished for trying to help others because they aren't slaving themselves to a non-functional system. The Penumbral Defenders say 'screw that'," I stated with authority, swinging my free hand out in emphasis. "A mad bomber is destroying the city piece by piece and the PRT is sitting on their hands? We'll work with villains if that's what it takes to fight a greater evil. If, in the process, we flip a few black hats that were on the other side through no fault of their own? Even better."
"The Protectorate comes down hard on troubled teens, but lets raping, murdering, pieces of filth like Lung off time and time again. If a normal person did half the things he did, the cops would go after him hard. However, because he was strong, the PRT allowed him to," I paused, memories of the second raid bubbling to the surface. "He was kidnapping kids, having his men rape them, and sell them into sexual slavery," I said quietly, my voice still carrying throughout the space.
Hedera gasped and Brix's face was stone. Looking over, Herb looked equally shocked and angry, which surprised me. Didn't he know? "Hedera, you're on PHO. Did you see the video people took of the kids I brought to the hospital?" I asked.
She shook her head, eyes wide "I heard about it, but it was removed and anyone who tried to post it was banned." She said. "No one knew what happened."
"They had a fuckin' breakin' station?" growled Herb almost animalistically. I'd never heard the phrase before, but the meaning was clear enough, and I nodded. "I shoulda hurt him more."
"This was going on for god knows how long," I told the two sitting opposite of me. "It was well known by the locals, just as the Merchants dealt drugs to everyone, including kids, and that the E88 were white supremacists, that the ABB's distinguishing crime was sex slavery, but no one wanted to think what that really meant," I stated coldly. "They had territory that could be targeted, their members were known, hell, their leader was such a hubristic asshat he regularly got into fights with other teams. All it would've taken was calling in some help from another department or two for a few days, a week at most, and they could've been stopped. That is part of what we want to do, to fight the real monsters. Not the showboating jerks like Über and L33t. Not small time heist groups like the Undersiders. Our foes are those that make the world worse by their very presence, and who've been given free rein to do as they wished because they were strong."
"The thing about the entire struggle of Good versus Evil?" I asked rhetorically. "Evil is usually individually stronger. The Darwinian, 'survival of the fittest' world Evil lives in leads to that kind of isolated power. But Good? Good is supposed to win because they work together. Laugh about the 'power of friendship' BS that gets thrown around, but at its core it's not wrong. However, those who are held up as the epitome of righteousness, those who are supported as working on the side of angels? At least in Brockton Bay, they're just as bad, if not worse then the villains. Not because they commit atrocities, but because they're a trap, a comforting lie that lures in people that want to help, binds them in regulation, isolates them, and keeps them from doing anything."
"And supposin' I don't want to fight?" Brix proposed, watching me carefully.
"Then you don't have to!" I replied immediately, "The way things are going, it's going to get worse before it gets better, and the people are going to need help that government will either be too slow to provide, assuming the help doesn't get siphoned away in a thousand little ways into a thousand little pockets, each corrupt official telling themselves that they're only taking a little, or that they know how this can really help people, supporting those they like and leaving those they don't, which nine times out of ten are the poor working class, to suffer."
I looked him in the eye, "I'm not asking you to work for free, or for the 'good of the cause' or some utopian nonsense, but with your power you could help rebuild after a disaster, at least provide a bit of shelter for those in need." I motioned to the perfectly fitting hardwood floor under our feet, the surface not made of individual boards but a continuous piece of timber, "Unless you want me to believe you found a rectangular tree to cut up to make this place."
I sighed, feeling oddly drained, "People focus on the fight, and the fight is important. You can't help people if you're dead. But just as important is the recovery afterwards. We've got a secure base of operations to weather whatever storm comes our way, and a secondary fallback point if necessary, but being safe ourselves means a lot less if we can't help innocents after the combat ends, the rubble settles, and a new day dawns. There's always another fight, and will be until the Endbringers are ended themselves, but without people helping in the background it's incredibly easy to win the most of the fights but lose the war."
At my pronouncement, there was silence. Herb stared at his feet, face stony in anger, but not directed at any of us. Hedera was glancing between Herb and I, occasionally glancing to her father. Her father, however, looked thoughtful. "You've given me somethin' to chew on," he announced, slowly standing up. "And somethin' that's gonna take a bit. I'm gonna go get started on suppah. I'm not sayin' yuh, mind ya, but I'm not sayin' nah either."
After a quiet dinner Hedera asked me if I'd be willing to talk more about what had happened that had ended up dropping the kids off at the hospital. With some slight tweaks, like saying that the gun I'd created with Miss Milita's power was a Tinker firearm I'd gotten from Arachne, I took her through the entire thing, step by step. It wasn't pretty, but recounting it was cathartic after a fashion. After it'd happened I'd not thought about it, too busy trying to keep going forward, but going over it again helped, oddly enough. Herb listened in silence, along with Brix, though the latter's interest spiked when I described Lucas' Trigger event. I remembered halfway through that Shards tried to scrub that knowledge from parahumans' memories, but, likely because I never mentioned The Warrior, that didn't happen to the father and daughter listening to me.
We all went to bed shortly afterwards, the sun having barely set, but a few hours of meditation later I was awake and at the ready. Cloaked in a Sound Bubble, I sneaked out the window, setting the screen back in place behind me, and moved to my car. Opening up the trunk, I lifted the fake cover up from the bottom and extracted the PSAT from the storage that would normally carry an extra tire. Silently closing the trunk, I rose up into the sky and headed almost directly west towards my target.
This far out everything was almost completely black, the moon a thin crescent rising in the sky, lights few and far between as I flew, hiding in Shadowform, across the border into Canada. The lights started to grow in number and intensity, and I found Quebec city, glowing like a veritable jewel in the night compared to the inky blackness of rural Maine. Dropping down enough to get service on my phone, I re-oriented myself and moved on, flying for at least another hour.
One more check and one more course correction later, I found what I was looking for. It was decently well hidden, looking like an upscale campground in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. If I'd been moving faster, higher, or not knowing what I was looking for, I could've easily missed it. Flying high, high above, thankful for the lack of clouds, I brought the PSAT up and viewed through the scope. The weapon automatically zoomed in on the ground over two miles below.
The air was thin, but a bit of Aerokinesis solved that problem, and the frigid air didn't bother me in the slightest. I was actually thankful for the feeling of the cold, feeling brisk but not uncomfortable, as I felt sick to my stomach below me.
I'd call it an orgy, but that would suggest that more than one person was having fun, that there were people paring up in blind hedonism instead of over a dozen woman fawning over one scrawny, naked man as he casually thrusted, seemingly bored by it. Moving the scope minutely helped me scan the surrounding area, more women in the area, along with quite a few kids and several men handling the heavier labor, though they were heavily outnumbered by the women.
Taking my eye off the scope I tried to See him, but at this distance I couldn't even make out his power. Even opening up the eyes of my mask, the night suddenly painted in rich, velvety tones, didn't let me See his power. Re-covering my eyes, the blackness below me becoming the same visible darkness the night now became for me, I sighed. It was likely for the best. Heartbreaker's power was evil, the complete destruction of the minds of others. I'd happily torture someone to death before I'd do that to them, destroying who they were and replacing them with a poor, twisted facsimile of who they used to be.
Victor's power had a use, and I still felt a slight pull to use it again. The more I knew the fewer mistakes I'd make and the more people I could save but it was still wrong. With Heartbreaker's power it would be so deliciously easy to take over the world. Sneak into Congress, make everyone my friend and make them do their damn jobs, and pull America out of the spiral it was in. I could even seen the rationalization, as they'd all sworn an oath of office and were violating it daily. I'd just enforce the pledge they'd willingly taken, along with the privileges that had come with the obligation. It wouldn't be my fault that they made promises with no intention of following through on them, after all.
Other countries would fall in line even easier, and I could focus on killing Scion. Power controlled locations would be difficult, but I could sneak into Cauldron easy enough and unlike Weld's ragtag army I wouldn't try to doom the world with my tantrum, I'd save it. I could do all of that, and all I'd have to sacrifice was my morals, and the minds of everyone that opposed me. Even if I had the power I wouldn't do so, or at least that's what I told myself, but the temptation was so strong to make people stop being so stupid and be truthful was scarily powerful.
No, while I was of the definite belief that it was good to have aces up one's sleeve just in case I needed them, to go down this path I might as well have Panacea break Taylor's power, copy that, and use Doormaker & Clairvoyant to replicate Canon, only without the twenty-two millimeter lobotomy at the end. If I had to mind control humanity to save it, then it didn't deserve to be saved. I wouldn't need to, and if it turned out that I did. . . Then fuck it, and fuck them. I'd gather the powers and pull a Noah, rebuilding humanity on Mars if the rot ran straight through to the core.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed those thoughts away. However this all turned out, what I was doing now was the right thing. Re-sighting in on Heartbreaker he'd moved to a different sex puppet, the woman's expression rapturous as it turned my stomach. I considered waiting for him to step away from them, but these women were effectively dead. They were broken things that would never recover from a violation far deeper than even what Lung had been doing to those children.
Turning the PSAT on, it hummed, starting to glow. The Aerokinesis that kept me supplied with air jumped in difficulty to maintain, but was still easily doable as the only other things vying for my attention being keeping my aim stable and keeping myself stationary in the air. The oily feeling grew, and grew, and grew, extending outwards in every direction.
It took nearly ten minutes before the ready light turned on, the charged air extending hundreds of feet in every direction, if not farther. Flicking the camera Theo had affixed to the scope on I made sure to take a deep breath and let go of the air, which expanded out around me as I held my breath, just in case that would change the weapon's effects. After one last time sighting in on my target, I breathed out and pulled the trigger.
Just like when Theo had fired it, time seemed to slow. Careful to keep my aim steady, I opened my the eye not staring down the scope to look around me as best I could. The energy, unseen, swirled in towards me in fractal patterns. What had before been a pattern a dozen feet across, and almost two dimensional, became a latticework a hundred feet across and perfectly spherical as the accumulated energy, enough to kill me in an instant, silently screamed towards me.
Trusting in Theo's design, I held still, the energy swirling up and around me, never quite touching as it started to light up the plates running down the length of the barrel. What had glowed like a bonfire before no shone like a series of rectangular suns, casting light in every direction, even illuminating the compound far, far below.
Heartbreaker, facing down, started to turn, twisting at a slug's pace, as his death continued to slowly unfold. Gathering in front of the tip the energy became lightning, not one bolt, but dozens, all flowing downwards towards the Master in interweaving patterns so bright that I knew, if my eyes had not been supernaturally able to handle what I saw, it would leave me blinded.
The bolts, interweaving, dancing around each other, seeming to race each other down their unfolding path, taking what felt like a full minute to reach their target, but by how much those far below had moved, couldn't've been more than a few seconds. By the time that Heartbreaker had turned to face me the bolts were a scant hundred feet from the ground. Even if he could've seen me to try to use his power on me, the luminescence of the bolts would've rendered his power useless, unable to see anything but the oncoming bolts.
They struck him, the ground below him, those around him, and everything within twenty feet. From there the energy blasted into the ground, rebounding outwards, striking every exposed inch of the compound. His death was instantaneous, flesh instantly blackening as it was blown apart by the sheer force of the energy his body was forced to try to conduct. The devastation the PSAT wrought was horrible, it was beautiful, it was a sight that I doubted I would ever forget. Whatever let me see this work also showed me how it functioned in detail how every man, woman, child died in what, to them, would be an instant, but to me seemed like an eternity.
My Acoustokinesis kicked in automatically as the simultaneous thunderclaps from easily over two dozen lightning strikes wrapped around me as the sky split open and everything below me died. Time returned to normal and the muted echoes of the PSAT's discharge thundered back up at me from below. The warning light of the weapon was shining a baleful red, warning that, despite what Theo had thought, I only had one shot from his weapon, not that I needed another. The forest below me was on fire, a jagged, blackened circle where the compound used to be, bits of glowing hot stone and metal lighting the area in a hellish light.
I'd headed North at first, dropping below the ground before returning back to Brix's house. Once I was close I rose above the treeline once more, dropping out of Shadowform. Silently landing next to my car, I opened the trunk once more, freezing as the faintest sound of a single tree moving was carried to me by my Acoustokinesis.
Turning around slowly, I saw Brix standing there, the tree at the edge of the parking area partially open, revealing a hollow inside. "It be mighty suspicious, sneakin' around at night with a piece of tech like that," he pouted out calmly, his power reaching out to control trees all around us, and trees hidden underground.
I turned my back to him, putting the weapon away and closing the fake bottom. If he attacked me, I'd defeat him. If he tried to kill me, I'd return the favor. I really didn't want to do either. "I was taking care of a problem that was long overdue for being solved," I stated, not bothering to silence the sound of the trunk closing.
"Those villains up in the mountains," he asked, and looked annoyed when I couldn't help but laugh.
"No, I heard about them this afternoon. I don't normally carry Tinker canons in my car for fun." I felt tired again, so tired, and resolved to get some actual sleep before morning came. "Trust me, if I took care of a local problem, you'd either notice immediately, or not at all. I tend to be fairly all or nothing about those things. No, I was dealing with a rot that Canada allowed to fester for so long; it almost explains why the Birdcage is there, given the evil their government, and by extension their people, have no problem ignoring."
He looked at me, confused, and I sighed, weary beyond words. "Brix, If you haven't guessed by lunch, I'll tell you, but I don't think I'll have to tell you."
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ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
And then Brix will shit bricks.
Too bad about the bounty though.
Wonder how the official story will run?
"Heartbreaker and thralls found dead after freak microburst lightning storm starts wildfire. Wrath of God? You decide." Theme music plays...
Edit:TY autocorrupt.
Too bad about the bounty though.
Wonder how the official story will run?
"Heartbreaker and thralls found dead after freak microburst lightning storm starts wildfire. Wrath of God? You decide." Theme music plays...
Edit:TY autocorrupt.
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I expect the daughter will find out first from PHO.
Guessing Heartbreaker is pretty far out of the box from what he's seen of the two harvesting maple syrup so far.
Guessing Heartbreaker is pretty far out of the box from what he's seen of the two harvesting maple syrup so far.
peeking
breath
He'd needs tools to Tinker cannons in the car. I think the secret compartment is for him to carry Tinker cannons.
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Sorry - what does that mean? I mean, I can take parts of the sentence and fiddle them around so they make sense to me, but not like it's written.
Heartbreaker is an evil that Canada allows to fester.
The fact that Canada is bad enough to ignore this evil explains (or almost explains) why Canada ignores other evils.
The Birdcage, which is located in Canada, is one of those other evils.
- Location
- United States of America
Lee is comparing the fact that the lack of morals needed to let Heartbreaker, the mind controlling mass rapist, roam free because it's a hard problem to solve to the Birdcage, an inescapable prison where the inmates are free to do anything they want to each other (except escape). Both of which are solutions to hard problems (taking down a line of sight mind controller and keeping powerful villains imprisoned) which grossly violate the ethics that the Canadian government claims to hold. There is a typo in that there should be a semicolon after long, not a comma.
- Location
- Wonderland
forwent
1.hear→here
2.astronomical things are big. The odds *against* him using the same last name are astronomical.
"But I wanted to have the same name to support you!" says Herb. "So I looked up your name nd got my docs with the same."
Lee facepalms.
maple syrup.
they
distinguishing
set, but
If
feeling[/QUOTE]
Reconnoiter 10.10
- Location
- United States of America
Reconnoiter 10.10
I slept, to try to escape the devastation I'd just inflicted, and the poor souls I'd taken out along with a man who should've been eliminated long ago. However, maybe because I was focusing on it as I went to sleep, maybe because there was something I was missing, all that happened was I got to watch it happen all over again. Only this time, I couldn't even move, just along for the ride.
I woke as something struck the side of my face and launched myself up with a snarl, metal claws projected from my hands and ready to kill whatever attacked me.
Herb stood near the door, one hand holding a bunch of small rocks, the other ready to throw a coin sized stone, likely from the pile. "Ya got Wolfie's? Good on ya. I'd hoped ya had before I took him out," was all he said. I blinked fully awake, not at all rested. "You okay? You look like shit," he commented.
"Didn't sleep well," I mumbled, pulling back the metal underneath my skin again.
He nodded sagely, "Missin' Taylor. I know how it is. I'm missing the light of my life." He waited a beat before announcing, "Breakfast's ready," as he opened the door. "Come on. It'll make you feel better. They made waffles!"
Pausing to shift my clothes to something else, so it'd at least looked like I changed, I stumbled after him, trying to wake up, and generally failing. A full spread was out, waiting for Herb & I, and Hedera handed me a cup of coffee, which I gratefully accepted. Slamming back the steaming hot beverage helped a bit, making me aware enough that the others had stopped what they were doing to stare at me. "Um, heat resistant," I explained. "But thanks, that helped. Could I possibly have another?"
Sipping this one, I had to admit Herb was right, it did make me feel better, if even just a little. "Not a morning person?" Hedera asked.
I grimaced, "Didn't sleep well."
Brix gave me a knowing look, which Herb caught but didn't comment on. As we finished, the retired hero turned on the TV that sat in sight of the table but had remained off while we ate. Flicking through a few channels, he settled on the news, which was reporting on a very familiar patch of forest, the devastation looking worse in the light of day.
"-still don't know exactly what caused the event which shook windows in Ottawa, and the light from which could be seen from Montreal," the news anchor for NBC stated, images of the flash of light that had been my firing of the PSAT followed shortly by a vibration which set off car alarms down the street playing before cutting back to the fire. "The PRT have cordoned off the air until they can determine if there are any lingering effects. Anonymous sources within the Canadian Government have stated that the location could have housed Heartbreaker, the elusive Master. Reports have been coming in of those effected by this villain's power revealing themselves across Ontario & Quebec, falling catatonic upon hearing news of the villain's probable demise. Authorities urge caution, in case any effected by the Master's power strike out at those around him. From preliminary reports, over four dozen individuals were at the location of the time of attack, mostly women & children."
Brix shot me a look and I just stared right back, not blinking, sipping my coffee. They knew. I thought. Those motherfuckers knew where he was all this time, and they did nothing. The PRT and the Canadian government could hang for all I cared.
"Those poor people," Hedera breathed, eyes riveted to the screen.
"And there'd be less of them if the PRT had done their damn jobs," I couldn't help but add. Herb, who had been watching the screen with dawning realization, snapped his head over to give me a questioning look. Brix gave me a raised eyebrow while Hedera just seemed confused.
"But all those innocent people he had with him, did they have to die?" she asked.
I sighed, not really in the mood for this. "They were dead the moment they locked eyes with Heartbreaker, or the moment he saw them, depending on how his power works. Worked," I corrected. Herb frowned but nodded, probably knowing what I meant, but Hedera obviously didn't. "You are your mind," I said, trying to put this into words. A good example would be vampires from the Buffy series, but that wasn't a thing here, nineties television in Earth Bet seeming to fetishize heroes instead of vampires. "Imagine you were in Montreal for some reason. Maybe visiting family, maybe a school trip, maybe just vacation, doesn't matter. You're walking down the street when you move to pass by a guy in his forties, just another part of the crowd, when all of a sudden everything you feel is changed. The love you have for your father? Gone. All he's worth is stringing along for resources to give to your new beloved. Your friends? They don't matter, unless of course one of them catches the eye of the only person you really care about. All you feel is an all-consuming love and lust for the man in front of you. You'll give him everything you have, betray everyone you know for him, have his children, and you will have his children, and be rapturous for the morning sickness because it shows that he loves you even a fraction as much as you love him. And the worst part? His power isn't persistent, it's instant. For the rest of your life, no matter what you do, you'll love him more than the most devout believer loves their god."
Hedera paled as I talked, obviously picturing exactly that scenario. "Thing is, those feelings doesn't make sense. People, at their core, do. They can believe contradictory things, and their actions can seem utterly illogical, but go deep enough and they have reasons for what they do. They might not be good reasons," I gave, "but there's still reasons. Those effected by Heartbreaker? They aren't people anymore, they're puppets, having all the memories and habits of the bodies they inhabit, but none of the soul. If there was any kind of visual indicator, even something as simple as a mark on the skin or a change in eye-color people would be faster to recognize a threat on the level of Nilbog, dormant at the time but a ticking timebomb, waiting to go off and destroy cities. Instead they just ignored it, because he was happy to effectively kill a few women at a time, turning them into puppets to keep himself sexually satisfied."
"I've met one of Heartbreaker's children," I disclosed, "one of the few who escaped. He's a good kid at heart, I think, but damaged almost to the point of sociopathy. He learned how to puppet people, using a temporary method much different than his father, and still doesn't get why it's wrong, only that doing so isn't worth the blowback he'd get for it. His father's inflicted overwhelming, mind-numbing terror on him so many times, and to such a degree that the boy can't feel scared of anyone but his father anymore. If there was anything left of those women, they'd be screaming in their heads until the day they died, but Heartbreaker doesn't even allow them that, wiping everything out. The man was a cancer on the level of the Slaughterhouse Nine, and the fact that the PRT knew where he was and did nothing surprises me, but it really shouldn't."
"'bout time someone did something about him then," Brix said, surprising me. "Mind you, no way that person's ever gonna get thanked for that, let alone paid."
I just shrugged, "That's why it's good to have alternate revenue streams. Heroing doesn't pay, but that's why I work as a Healer for those willing to spend the money for my services."
"And that be workin', even with all them revenuers sniffing down your neck?" Brix asked skeptically.
"It does when you hire lawyers to take care of it," I shot back, glad to get off the topic.
"Hmmf," he snorted. "That be just usin' one evil to fight another."
Working on the sap we'd collected yesterday gave us, gave me something to do. The taps we'd carefully put in the previous day had been re-bagged and tasking a beetle to go look at the trees within my range had shown that the maples had completely healed from being drilled without a single blemish. Hedera had returned to her room, and Herb and I worked in silence, though he did give me odd looks from time to time. Brix came out after an hour and looked over our work with an approving nod.
"That rifle you be puttin' away last night," the retired hero said leadingly.
"We've got a Tinker," I confirmed. "The warning he put in tripped, so I'd not use it again before he okays it, but he made what did that."
"This boy got a name?" he asked me.
I looked to Herb, who shook his head, "Not yet."
"Not officially," I told the retired hero. "And he's a long way from being ready to fight."
"Ready to fight?" echoed the florakinetic.
"I won't put anyone in the line of fire unless I think they're ready," I stated. "Going off half-cocked is a good way to get yourself killed. Break, Enter, and I are there, barely, but our other team members aren't. We fought the ABB because we had to, to save the city, but we've still got a ways to go before I'd be comfortable doing the entire 'patrol and wait to get attacked' song and dance."
He was quiet for a long moment. "Fancy a bit of a spar? Ya be talkin' a good game, but I'd like to be seein' if you can be backin' up your barkin'."
"Um, the syrup," I hedged.
"-Will keep. Unless you're scared," he teased a little.
I looked at Herb and he just grinned. "I'm next!" was all the support he gave.
After getting Hedera, along with Herb and I changing into our costumes, all four of us moved deeper into the forest, coming across a clearing in the middle of the woods that, by the disturbed snow and thicker than normal forest at the edges, hadn't been a clearing five minutes ago. Herb was off to the side, grinning like a loon, and Hedera, all bundled up, was standing there right next to him, a thermos full of hot chocolate under her arm.
Brix waved for me to go to one side of the clearing, and I hesitated. "What kind of spar is this going to be?" I asked.
"The kind where we fight," he said, but he seemed amused, not taking my questioning for cowardice.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Are we starting light and going harder to get each other's measure? Should I try new things? Should I go straight for the win? There's different kinds of fight."
"You be tryin' ta win, and we'll be seein' how that gets ya," Brix smiled.
I nodded, "Then please armor up, so I don't accidentally hurt you."
He gave me a long look then nodded once, his power flaring downwards to something buried below us. Branches seemed to explode around him, twisting tight and forming a suit of wooden armor around him, the bark creating a flowing armor that covered him from head to toe, slits open for his eyes. Copying the technique, I gave him a single nod, floating over to where I'd be fighting him, landing on the ground. I could See his power priming something below me, but it wouldn't get a chance to work.
"When you say start, deah," Brix called to his daughter.
She looked between the two of us, excited but maybe a little worried, something else in her expression as well. She opened her mouth to say "Go," but both of us were moving before she made a sound.
I leapt into the air, wooden hands growing up around where I'd been a moment before as I unholstered my hidden, Speed Zone enhanced pistol and drew down on Brix's chest. A wall of wood sprung up as I pulled the trigger, obscuring him from my line of sight. My insects, however, caught sight of him rolling to the side as the round hit the barrier and broke it apart, splintered wood flying into the space where he'd just been, burying themselves like daggers into the snow.
As he moved down the barrier, I fired three more times, punching holes in his wooden wall, stopping when he positioned himself so a shot would've sent hand sized splinter flying towards Herb and Hedera. "Good!" Brix called as the trees behind me moved, growing spears of timber and hands with which to throw them. "But now what's your plan?"
"I wait, old man, and use what you give me," I replied calmly, watching his power go to work. Holstering my gun, I stared at where he stood behind his barrier, now a half circle thirty feet wide and fifty feet long. My first instinct was to grab the spear the tree threw at me and hurl it directly at him, but I quickly remembered that the only requirement for him controlling the wood is that he grew it. That kind of showboating would have him immediately grow the spear down my arms to bind me.
Instead I dodged the projectile, flying up high and angling myself around the wall he'd made. Diving down towards him, a dome of wood grew to cover him, spikes growing up and out of it. Spinning around to lead with my foot, I slammed down onto the structure next to where he'd been and reached out to grab him, but he was already gone. The wood surged towards me, already hooking around my feet, and I had to launch myself up, draining the shield on my other foot, the first broken from my descent.
Looking around he was nowhere to be found, likely in a tree. "Don't be a Stranger," I said, staring at the trees below. "If you wanted to make this a Master fight you just should've said so."
Reaching out with Taylor's power I took hold of the insects in the forest below, commanding them to converge on the arena we'd entered. They gathered, a trickle at first but then a stream, buzzing angrily as I searched for Brix.
The trees started throwing more spears, but they were easily dodged, my Aerokinesis meant that even the ones that got close, which in turn exploded into tendrils to try to grab me, still missed by several feet. The insects continued to gather and blanket the area, the trees' aim getting worse and worse. I've found him, I thought, I just don't know where. The bugs were messing up his line of sight, I just didn't know which ones.
Concentrating on them to find out would make me a sitting duck for the spears, but I didn't need to see through their eyes I just needed to. . . there! A few at the edge had just died, the spears being thrown my way becoming accurate once more.
Looking in the other direction from him, I focused on the bugs, finding exactly where he was. I managed to get a few ladybugs inside his armor before flipping around and diving straight for him. He dropped down below the ground once more, the not-ents firing blindly, and I tracked him as he maneuvered himself not to the other side of the clearing, but off to one side. Flying up to be directly above him, I felt the bugs move as he tried to angle himself to see me, finally leaning outside of the tree, still armored.
Silently dropping down, making sure not to touch a branch, I placed my open hand on the back of his head, fingers splayed out. "I win," I announced, not wanting to hurt him.
"Do ya now?" called Brix, three trees over. I looked at him, then down at the armor, which turned to show that it was completely empty before exploding into growth and binding me completely.
"Huh," I said, looking over to him, my head the only part of me not encased in timber. "So, I'm in a bit of a pickle."
He looked down on me from a tree trunk, ten feet above me. "Ayuh," he agreed, smiling broadly behind his beard. "I know it."
I looked around at the wood, figuring out three ways to get out of this without tapping more powers (though it'd put him and possible the others at risk), then back at him. "Not that kind. I could show you how I'd still win, but I'm not sure I can do so without actually hurting you, which I don't want to do."
"Hard tellin' not knowin' how you'd be pullin' that one off," he commented. "Ain't nuthin' to be 'shamed of, losin' to me." Hedera, who looked oddly disappointed, moved to walk towards us only to be stopped by Herb, who was still smiling.
"Yeah. Um. That's not what's happening here. If you could be so kind as to go stand with the other two, I could show you what I mean," I offered in turn, directing the insect swarm all around us to head back into the woods.
He snorted, seeming to flow down the tree before calmly walking over to the other two. "Whenever ya be ready, Vejovis."
I gave him a nod, throwing up an Air Shield in front of them, just in case, "Can you grow a dummy for where you were when you first spoke?" I requested. One appeared, stepping naturally out of the wood like a real person. My Sight greedily drank in the use, and the level of precision needed to pull that off was astounding. It was a pity that I was going to wreck it with sheer power. "Right. This might get loud," I warned, and gripped the wood encompassing me with both hands, with both crystalline shields shifted to run along my knuckles.
I'd gotten them to work by discharging them to enhance strikes, like Glory Girl did, but their purpose wasn't to enhance blows, just pure strength, tearing through new growth like it was rotten and moving my arms just forward enough to make this work. Slamming my elbows back, discharging the shields there, gave me room to pull back and shove my arms forward like pistons, slamming the palms of my hands forward as hard as I could into the wood in the direction of the dummy Brix. I did so in one smooth movement, taking less than a half a second from grip to push.
There was a thunderclap as the wood exploded and was thrown outwards at speeds only I could likely see, timber accelerated to the speed of bullets, if not more, tearing into the trees, blasting them to splinters, as well as the trees behind them, and the trees behind them. After what was left of that part of the forest finished raining down like snow, the devastation left behind looked like a tornado had blasted through sideways.
I negligently slammed myself backwards, dispelling the shield there and blowing the tree off me, lifting up and using the shields on my forearms to crack off the pieces still clinging without draining them. Glancing backwards, Brix and Hedera were staring at the damage, all three of them covering their ears. The Air Shield was nicely splinter-free, so I dismissed that entirely.
Flying back, I dropped down to ground level and started to walk towards them. "So, yeah, if this was a fight you were dead the moment you revealed yourself, but I don't want to actually hurt you. Hence my problem."
Brix gave me a long, considering, look before grinning broadly, "I be appreciatin' that. So, how'd'ya feel about marryin' my daughter?"
"I. . . I'm sorry, what?" I asked, nonplussed. "You, that, what?"
"She's smart as a whip, good around the house, and wicked cunnin'," he insisted.
"Daaaad!" the girl in question groaned, turning bright red.
"I, um, no?" I sputtered. She was kinda cute, and not jailbait like Taylor, but I'd just met the girl, and we'd had a grand total of one one-on-one conversation. "I mean, I'm kinda busy, and what I'm doing is really dangerous, I mean, I lead from the front, and it wouldn't be fair to her, and-"
"And he's kinda got someone he's interested back home," Herb interjected.
"No I don't," I snapped. "We're not dating!"
Brix gave me a long look, then nodded. "Ah, you're one of those." Those what? I thought, but couldn't think of anything to say in response. Brix gave me another nod, "I understand." He turned to look at Herb. "What about you? I've already been seein' ya fight, and if yer with this one," Brix nodded in my direction, "Yer only gonna get better."
Hedera blushed even harder, carefully inspecting her shoes.
My teammate gave her a long look. "Is that what you want?" he asked her gently, not joking in the slightest.
She played with the thermos in her hands, "I. Yes." She mumbled. Where is this coming from? Who does this? I thought as I watched this play out.
"Then I'd love to," Herb smiled broadly.
Brix looked at him for a long moment before smiling in return. "Good man. C'mon Hedera, let's go be getting' you ready."
The father and daughter walked off, leaving the two of us behind. Once they where out of earshot I turned on Herb, who looked far too calm with what just happened. "Dude. What. The. Fuck?" I practically hissed.
He just smiled that stupid fucking smile of his. "We're gonna Rom-Com this bitch," he stated authoritatively, a red flag if I'd ever seen one.
"One, I fucking hate Rom-Coms, two, what the fuck does that mean?" I demanded.
He looked at me, confused, confident stance broken, "Wait, you hate Rom-Coms? How can you hate Rom-Coms? They're fantastic trash!"
I nodded slowly, as I thought it would be obvious, desperately wondering how 'Rom-Com' equaled 'Marry a girl you just met!' Actually, that fit a bit too well, but I'd answer his question first. "Well, I seemed to miss the seminar on how relationships were supposed to work, so I turned to media."
He slowly nodded in return, face pained as he made the connection, "So you used Rom-Coms?"
"Doesn't work!" I yelled, throwing up my hands. "At least, not unless you're really fuckin' hot, and I wasn't playing life on easy mode then because I was fat, so all it was, was people laughing about lies and girls saying they wanted the thing, that when you did it, they didn't actually want."
"Nooo. Noo," he sighed, shaking his head. "The number one rule of life is it never works unless you're hot."
"I wouldn't say number one, but it's up there," I agreed, distracted. "Right up there with 'don't listen to most people about what they want.'" I groaned, "That's why I hate romantic comedies, they're neither romantic, nor comedic. I don't like seeing people in pain, physical, psychological, emotional, or otherwise, so I derive no joy from them!"
He nodded again, seeing my point, "Yeah, you can inadvertently fall into one of those, but not purposefully do so."
I motioned around us, "Pretty sure you just fucking did." He just shrugged, grinning once more. "How does this work with your plans? Fuck it, do you even have any fuckin' plans?
He shrugged again, unconcerned, "Deal with Kayden."
"That's it? Deal with Kayden. For the full week? I know that this is gonna create one hell of shitstorm, but then we have to fight Leviathan!" I practically yelled.
"Probably gonna take a week," he nodded, as if that answered my question.
I couldn't help but ask, "How about training with your powers to get stronger?"
"Huh," he said, as if he hadn't considered this before. "Yeah. That should be a thing."
"That should be a. . ." I trailed off the terminal stupidity on display finally too much for me to handle. "Did you even think about this in the slightest?"
He shook his head, "Not really, no"
I stared at him. He's gotta be messing with me. He has to be. But try as I might, there was nothing in his tone, nothing in his body language, nothing at all that suggested he was anything else but being completely honest. Unbidden, a question crossed my lips, not angry, just curious: "What is your problem?"
Herb looked honestly confused by my query, finally answering, "Nuthin'."
There was a long pause, as I felt mental circuit breakers pop. There was a disconnect here. One that ran deep. Either he was messing with me, in which case I was going to beat him so bad he'd need my healing power to be able attend his own wedding, or he was being completely serious and just straight up didn't understand why I was so upset. There really could be no third option.
"Dude," I said seriously, "Leviathan is here in a week and a fuckin' half!" I wasn't angry, just trying to get across the enormity of the situation.
"Yeah," he nodded, still confused, "and we're taking a break."
"From doing w-" I started to ask, but I knew that going down that road would just lead to weasel wording, obfuscation, and more miscommunications. I needed to be as fair and straightforward as possible here. "Okay, I know what I've been doing but what the fuck have you been doing? I want to assume it's been something, but I haven't seen anything, and I haven't heard anything, so there's no way for me to know exactly what you've been doing."
There was another long pause where I just stared at him, waiting for him to reply without giving him anything to spin, anything to react to, forcing whatever he said to stand on its own.
Eventually he shrugged again, the movement looking awkward. "Handlin' stuff."
"Like what?"
"Things," was the entirety of his answer.
"Oh of course! Things and stuff and stuff and things and I'm trying to throw together a plan to save our lives when I could've just been doing things!" I yelled, but Herb wasn't getting what I was saying, and once again the circuit popped, draining the anger from me. "You know why I stopped making plans with you?" I asked calmly.
Herb was looking more than a bit confused, but just shrugged again, "No. I thought it was because you were still mad."
"About the Dinah thing?" I queried.
"Yea-" he started to nod, seemingly happy to be back on solid conversational ground, only for me to interrupt him.
"Well after I fixed your goddamn fucking problem, I figured we could move on-" I started to say, only to be interrupted by him in turn.
"Which, honestly," he commented, not finishing his sentence.
I waited for him to finish his sentence, not doing the job for him. It was a working theory, but maybe, just maybe, he didn't actually have the rest of his sentence thought out whenever he did this, using whatever I came up with as a springboard while pretending that's what he meant all along. So, instead of giving him that, I just asked, "Yes?"
"You did that wrong," he chided me, as if he was in a position to do so. "You shoulda at least had some help."
I'll bite. "Oh, okay." I nodded. "Like what?"
"Like me," he replied without missing a beat.
Instead of dismissing what we both knew was a fucking lie, I took him seriously. "Okay, so would you have been able to sit there and just watch her get shot up with drugs, waiting for the exact correct moment to move so you didn't fuck up the timelines? Would you have been able to sit back and watch an innocent girl suffer, knowing it was the only way to stop your plan to save her from falling to goddamn pieces?" I asked intently.
He shrugged nonchalantly, "No."
"Yeah, so that's why I didn't fucking bring you!" I snapped, forcing myself to calm down with a long sigh. "More than just that-"
"Wait," he interrupted, looking disgusted. "you sat back and watched?"
You do not get to judge me! "I fucking had to to do everything at the correct time to keep Coil's two timelines in sync. It's literally the only way to get around his powers!"
He shook his head sadly, muttering, "At least you saved her. That was weighing on me."
"For good fucking reason," I growled. Fuck it, let's go for the throat. "That's your problem. You don't fucking plan. And when I try to plan with you I can't get a goddamned straight answer out of you. Ever. I think we have a plan, I think we're going to go do a thing, and then you're all like, 'oh that works, and I'm just going to go out in the identity that's tied to the hero group I'm a part of', linking, you know. . . oh god," I sighed, pressing my hands to my face. "Just let me count the ways!"
"First of all, you were going to go start shit as Break. Do you know how much of a fucking line I'm walking with the PRT to try to keep them off our asses?" I demanded. "And you're a registered member of this team and you're just gonna go start shit?"
He looked shocked, and timidly replied, "You're right."
I looked at him incredulously, not sure if this was honest or just another trick, "Don't just 'you're right' me! Dude, you don't tell me before you do things. Now I do the same thing, don't get me fucking wrong, but at least my plans have some sense to them!"
"I believe I'm doing the right thing at the time I'm doing the right thing!" he defended.
"Do you even think about the thing or do you just convince yourself you're doing the right thing and stop there?" I practically sneered. That answer was so bullshit it fucking moo'd.
There was a long pause as I waited for an answer that never came.
"Yeah, that's what I fuckin' thought!" I spat. "So, oh god," I groaned as I thought where do I go from here? "What is your plan for Leviathan? I'm assuming you have one, at least."
Herb looked down, not meeting my eyes. "Well, meet him at the ocean. . . fight him into the land. . . hopefully reduce some of the damage. . . whup his ass."
I blinked at this. My own plans were nested, relying on various variables, ready to adapt around what Cauldron did with the forewarning, with backups in case we got lucky and Behemoth, or the Simurgh, showed up instead. "I. . . I'm sorry," I said. "What."
He started to recite his 'plan' again: "Meet him at the ocean-"
"No I fuckin' heard you the first time, I just wanted to give you the chance to see how stupid that was!" I snapped. "So your great plan is to fight the Hydrokinetic in the ocean, to start with. . ." I tried to figure out the mindset required to make that plan. What I came up with. . . wasn't good. "Dude. You do know that's how you die. . . right?" I asked him without rancor, trying a gentler approach. "Your power ramps with time, not fighting him at his strongest right off the- Send Boojack to do that if you want to see how well that plan's gonna fucking turn out," I suggested, swearing without heat. "You can make more clones, I can't make more yous."
"Yeah, true. Clones would be nice," he commented.
"What do you mean 'would be'?" I asked incredulously. "you already have them!"
"Yeah but I don't really do it, they have, like, their own mind. It's really weird," he complained.
"They're you. You've said so!" I reminded him. This is why I hate liars, because everything turns into a game of 'I know I said that but I didn't mean it!' or 'If you can't remember it in exacting detail then it never happened and you're the liar!'. "They're all you if you took a different path in life."
"I know," he agreed, not even bothering to address the lie I'd just revealed. "It's. . . weird."
"They're. . ." I trailed off, realizing that he'd turned my serious concern into another side conversation. He'd just made a statement, and when I proved that statement was wrong, he didn't argue, didn't apologize, just changed the subject. I got the distinct feeling he wasn't even doing it on purpose, which just made it worse in so many ways. Nothing to do but address the core problem and ignore the diversions. "That's not even why I'm mad. I try to be clear. I try my best to be clear. I succeed most of the time, correct?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"Yeah." I echoed, keeping my tone mild even as I asked, "Why can't you pay me back that same. Basic. Fucking. Courtesy?"
"Ehh," he said, making as if he was going to say something. Then he didn't, and I let the moment hang.
Drawing out the moment long enough to make it clear that I knew exactly what he was doing, I finally continued my point, "When I ask you what is going on, you do not answer the question I am asking. You answer the question you think I am going to ask next. And, I mean, if you're right, oh, look at you, you're so wise, and mystic, and cryptic, and bullshit. But when you're wrong, I can't even have a conversation with you because you're having a conversation with someone that doesn't exist!"
"Sorry 'bout that," he shrugged.
I started to get mad, but tamped the heat down to the point that it was ice cold. "That's just it? 'Sorry'?"
The moment dragged, and dragged, and it became very clear that this time, I wasn't going to say anything. "Okay, look," he said seriously. "I know I'm not the perfect partner, and I may be goin' about this the wrong way." I stared coldly at him, not saying a word. "But I'll listen to you more."
YOU TRITE MOTHERFUCKER HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO A GOD-DAMNED THING I'VE BEEN SAYING? I raged internally, keeping my expression as calm as I could, though my voice still carried a fraction of my frustration, "That's just it! I don't want you to listen I want you to fucking Talk!"
"Well I don't doooo that wellll," he replied, finishing in a sing songy voice, referencing something.
"I'm sorry. Was that supposed to be funny," I said, voice dead.
He at least had the decency to wince, "A little bit."
"Yeah, ya fucking failed, just like you fail at fucking planning," I informed him.
"Well, I'm a sucky planner," he said, as if that absolved him of all guilt.
"Yes!" I cried, emotions spinning out of control. "So maybe, maybe, here's a thought, ya just, I don't know, say your plans out loud?" I asked sarcastically. "Check them with other people? I've realized I need to start doing so and am going to do so with Taylor because I forgot about the fucking armor 'cause that, that, was fuckin' dumb! But seriously dude, at least I'm trying to talk to someone, and most of my plans seem to work! Are you talking to anyone?"
There was a long pause, which spoke volumes.
I let out a quivering sigh, "At least you admit it-"
"Kayden," he threw out.
I blinked. Every time I think he can't go lower. "You're really telling Kayden your plans for the future, and what you're doing?" I asked him incredulously. "Not in a 'I love you so much I want to have kids with you someday' way, but 'Here's my plan to fight Leviathan'?"
"Our relationship," he shrugged.
"Yeah, that is literally not what I just fucking asked!" I yelled. "And guess what? That relationship isn't going to work if one of you are fucking dead! That relationship isn't going to work if Scion wins."
"Which, that is something we have to work on," he admitted.
I gave him a scathing look, derision dripping from my tone, "No, really, I would've never fucking guessed."
"Look, you're the best planner I know," he said, pausing for my response. I didn't. "You have plans upon plans upon plans upon plans upon plans, and I expect you to-"
"Not five deep," I had to correct him, "but yeah, I guess."
Herb waved expansively, "I expect you to. . . plan out. . . whatever it is that we're gonna do, because you do it the best." The sheer calm confidence in his tone, with annoyingly pacifying tones, seemed so incredibly out of place with this entire conversation, I had to stop and think what kind of mindset would lead him to say that in that way. Either he was completely lying to me, but he tended not to do that. Blatant lies, after all, would be easier to deal with. But if he was honest, just bad at communicating. . .
Pieces I didn't even know existed fell into place. I was always better at planning, but the level of faith he had in me. . . it was near religious. That. . . that wasn't something I had ever expected, and it certainly wasn't something I was comfortable with. I sighed, trying not to get mad at him again. "I can't make plans if I don't know what's going on. If I make a plan that requires you to do something, or not to do something, and I assume you would because. . ." I trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain this. "Okay, when I make plans, I account for what I know people are going to do. If you're just gonna go off and do things randomly, the plan doesn't work. This is literally Accord's problem. This is literally why my actions are fucking with Cauldron."
I motioned to myself, "I am a Blindspot to their plans. You're not. Charlie is. Dad is. They can't account for us in their plans, so we're fucking up their plans. Now, you aren't a Blindspot to them, ironically for this fucking situation, but, similarly, I keep on making plans, only to constantly be on the lookout to keep you from fucking them up! Or Kayden, flying in like a fucking cowboy into a mafia shootout."
"Eh, I didn't know it was that bad," he admitted, chagrined.
Oh god. This is it. This is exactly what's been going on. It hasn't been maliciousness, it hasn't been simple stupidity, it's been blind fucking faith in me. I. . . how do I get angry about that? He hasn't been listening to me, but I've always known he's just as fucked up as I am. This is my fault. I should've seen this coming. Quietly, I started to say, "Dude, on the way here- no." I approached this from another angle, not 'you messed up', but 'you're working without seeing what you're doing'. "You have plans too man, the problem is that your plans require other people to do what you want them to do without being aware of them. They work a lot of the time too, because people don't want to be honest with themselves. But, answer me this, honestly, do I act like other people?"
He looked at me curiously "No."
"Do I react like other people?" I asked him.
Herb shook his head, "No."
"Then why the fuck are you treating me like other people." I said more than asked, feeling run down. "You're managing me, or at least trying to, and with fucking Taylor, ignoring the entire fucking thing that's turning into, I appreciate you trying to help. I do. Thank you. I'm kinda shit at being careful about people's feelings sometimes, but when you try to manage me like you try to manage other people, it doesn't fucking work."
He didn't say anything, and that, at its core, was the problem.
"Just talk to me man," I begged. "I'm not gonna get pissed. Well, unless you've already gone and done something really stupid. But just a 'hey, I'm planning on doing this' is what I'm asking for. It might be a good idea. It might be a bad idea. It might be an okay idea that could become a good idea with a bit of work. But! I gotta know that it exists in the first place!"
"I'll try to be more vocal," Herb promised, but the loophole might as well have been made of neon.
"No!" I yelled, feeling like I was nearing the end of my rope. "No don't make me be Yoda about this bullshit! Don't 'try', just fucking talk to me. If I ask a question, give me an answer to that question and then give me the extra information you think I might fucking need!" I waited for a reply, an affirmation, a denial, anything I could work with. "Okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, his tone as if he wasn't sure why I was so upset, "You're so ramped up."
"And you're way to fucking passive about this!" I cried out, out of anger, out of rage, out of anything but despair. No matter what I do I fail. I always fail. I was stupid for thinking anything else.
Herb, however, just looked confused. "'Cause. . . we got this," he affirmed with supreme confidence.
"No. No we fucking don't!" I almost sobbed. "Do you know what it would take to break everything down on our fucking heads?"
"But you won't let that happen," he stated.
"I'm. . . what?" I just looked at him, uncomprehendingly. "I'm not fucking God! I can try, I can do my best, but-"
"But you plan so well," he reasoned.
I laughed hysterically, unable to cope with what I was finding out, what had been going on this entire time, "No I fucking don't!"
"But, here's what I'm seeing. I'm seeing the stress breaks. And that's my fault," he declared.
I grimaced, while it was his actions, I should've figured this out weeks ago. "Not entirely."
He shook his head, "No it-"
"Okay, fucking yes," I cut him off before he could try to take on more shit that wasn't his fault. I didn't see this coming. That was on me. "But it's not just you it's this fucking situation, and what's going on with her, and what I need to do and-"
"So much stuff," he agreed. "Me tryin' to lighten the situation doesn't seem to be helping."
"You need to tell me you're trying to lighten it man," I implored. "I know that's not how it works for most but sometimes when you try to lighten it kinda works, but sometimes when you try to lighten it. . . just. . . it sounds like you're pulling the Dinah shit all over again. Makin' plans based on what you think you know is right, and trying to manipulate me into going along with them."
"Alright. But getting Hedera out is kinda. . ."
And now I could see the plan. "Oh god. You aren't doing this to marry her, you're doing this to get her out of Maine and out from her father's thumb, aren't you?" He just nodded, a bit of a smile coming back to his features. This one honest, not meant to distract. "Assuming that Brix doesn't fucking kill you, then. . . yeah, it'll be a good thing," I agreed. "Not what I woulda done, I've already got too much shit to worry about, but having her around would actually help a great deal, yes."
"So I did one good thing," he announced.
I just looked at him in confusion, "You, you've done more than one good thing man. You-
"All I know is this," he said, cutting me off and stepping towards me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me dead in the eyes.
"Yeah?" I asked, confused.
"I'm with you," he promised. "And I may not be the best of bests, but I'm with you. I'm literally gonna do my best to try to fill you in on what's in my head, but even I don't know what's in there sometimes. So, I'm very reaction. Don't know why I'm so reactionary. But. You make a plan? I'll letter that son of a bitch."
"And if you make a plan, fucking tell me?" I confirmed, making sure this wasn't just some over-the-top bullshit move to agree to do something that wouldn't actually change anything.
He didn't even flinch. "That I will."
"In that case, fuck," I swore stepping back and away from him, watching him carefully, looking for any expression, and bit of body language that would betray what he was saying. "You're really gonna tell me your plans? Anything large. Getting groceries, going out on a date with Kayden, not stuff like that. I'm gonna go pitch a fight- Pitch a fight? Damn I can't even fucking talk. Pick a fight with Skidmark then-"
"Yes," Herb agreed emphatically, but I needed to get it all out in the open.
"Then I'll do my best to help you and include it in my plans. And unless it's really fucking stupid I'll find a way to make it happen, or explain why I can't," I promised in turn. "Really?"
"Yes," he said again.
I wanted it to be enough, I really wanted it to be enough. One last bit of trust. That's gone, we're done forever. "Promise," I demanded.
"On my heart and hope to fly," he stated with complete seriousness.
I had to just stare at him. What the fuck did he just say? Oh god, has he not listened to a god-damned thing I said? About how if he's trying to lighten the mood he needs to say he is or it'll backfire? Is this entire thing me just fooling myself, frog and the scorpion style? No. He uses weird fucking phrases sometimes. They're funny, so people laugh and he thinks they're real. Like dire wolves being 'real in his head' when he meant imagination. I have to know though.
"So, dude," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I know you're trying to be funny, but, dude, seriously."
"I'm being serious," he promised.
"In that case. . . fuck it," I sighed. This is either going to blow up horribly, or help me save everyone, and I have no idea which one this is. If he's going to help me though, he needs to be better. "I've had some ideas. You can turn into any animal, right?"
"Right?" he asked, obviously put off by the apparent non-sequitur.
"Even fake ones, though you don't get their magical effects?" I asked leadingly.
"Right," he agreed, still not knowing where this was going.
I felt like I hadn't slept for a week, been beat with hammers, and my head and heart both ached worse then I'd ever felt, but maybe things were going to get better, for once. I gave him a tired grin, "You ever try a Dragon?"
I slept, to try to escape the devastation I'd just inflicted, and the poor souls I'd taken out along with a man who should've been eliminated long ago. However, maybe because I was focusing on it as I went to sleep, maybe because there was something I was missing, all that happened was I got to watch it happen all over again. Only this time, I couldn't even move, just along for the ride.
I woke as something struck the side of my face and launched myself up with a snarl, metal claws projected from my hands and ready to kill whatever attacked me.
Herb stood near the door, one hand holding a bunch of small rocks, the other ready to throw a coin sized stone, likely from the pile. "Ya got Wolfie's? Good on ya. I'd hoped ya had before I took him out," was all he said. I blinked fully awake, not at all rested. "You okay? You look like shit," he commented.
"Didn't sleep well," I mumbled, pulling back the metal underneath my skin again.
He nodded sagely, "Missin' Taylor. I know how it is. I'm missing the light of my life." He waited a beat before announcing, "Breakfast's ready," as he opened the door. "Come on. It'll make you feel better. They made waffles!"
Pausing to shift my clothes to something else, so it'd at least looked like I changed, I stumbled after him, trying to wake up, and generally failing. A full spread was out, waiting for Herb & I, and Hedera handed me a cup of coffee, which I gratefully accepted. Slamming back the steaming hot beverage helped a bit, making me aware enough that the others had stopped what they were doing to stare at me. "Um, heat resistant," I explained. "But thanks, that helped. Could I possibly have another?"
Sipping this one, I had to admit Herb was right, it did make me feel better, if even just a little. "Not a morning person?" Hedera asked.
I grimaced, "Didn't sleep well."
Brix gave me a knowing look, which Herb caught but didn't comment on. As we finished, the retired hero turned on the TV that sat in sight of the table but had remained off while we ate. Flicking through a few channels, he settled on the news, which was reporting on a very familiar patch of forest, the devastation looking worse in the light of day.
"-still don't know exactly what caused the event which shook windows in Ottawa, and the light from which could be seen from Montreal," the news anchor for NBC stated, images of the flash of light that had been my firing of the PSAT followed shortly by a vibration which set off car alarms down the street playing before cutting back to the fire. "The PRT have cordoned off the air until they can determine if there are any lingering effects. Anonymous sources within the Canadian Government have stated that the location could have housed Heartbreaker, the elusive Master. Reports have been coming in of those effected by this villain's power revealing themselves across Ontario & Quebec, falling catatonic upon hearing news of the villain's probable demise. Authorities urge caution, in case any effected by the Master's power strike out at those around him. From preliminary reports, over four dozen individuals were at the location of the time of attack, mostly women & children."
Brix shot me a look and I just stared right back, not blinking, sipping my coffee. They knew. I thought. Those motherfuckers knew where he was all this time, and they did nothing. The PRT and the Canadian government could hang for all I cared.
"Those poor people," Hedera breathed, eyes riveted to the screen.
"And there'd be less of them if the PRT had done their damn jobs," I couldn't help but add. Herb, who had been watching the screen with dawning realization, snapped his head over to give me a questioning look. Brix gave me a raised eyebrow while Hedera just seemed confused.
"But all those innocent people he had with him, did they have to die?" she asked.
I sighed, not really in the mood for this. "They were dead the moment they locked eyes with Heartbreaker, or the moment he saw them, depending on how his power works. Worked," I corrected. Herb frowned but nodded, probably knowing what I meant, but Hedera obviously didn't. "You are your mind," I said, trying to put this into words. A good example would be vampires from the Buffy series, but that wasn't a thing here, nineties television in Earth Bet seeming to fetishize heroes instead of vampires. "Imagine you were in Montreal for some reason. Maybe visiting family, maybe a school trip, maybe just vacation, doesn't matter. You're walking down the street when you move to pass by a guy in his forties, just another part of the crowd, when all of a sudden everything you feel is changed. The love you have for your father? Gone. All he's worth is stringing along for resources to give to your new beloved. Your friends? They don't matter, unless of course one of them catches the eye of the only person you really care about. All you feel is an all-consuming love and lust for the man in front of you. You'll give him everything you have, betray everyone you know for him, have his children, and you will have his children, and be rapturous for the morning sickness because it shows that he loves you even a fraction as much as you love him. And the worst part? His power isn't persistent, it's instant. For the rest of your life, no matter what you do, you'll love him more than the most devout believer loves their god."
Hedera paled as I talked, obviously picturing exactly that scenario. "Thing is, those feelings doesn't make sense. People, at their core, do. They can believe contradictory things, and their actions can seem utterly illogical, but go deep enough and they have reasons for what they do. They might not be good reasons," I gave, "but there's still reasons. Those effected by Heartbreaker? They aren't people anymore, they're puppets, having all the memories and habits of the bodies they inhabit, but none of the soul. If there was any kind of visual indicator, even something as simple as a mark on the skin or a change in eye-color people would be faster to recognize a threat on the level of Nilbog, dormant at the time but a ticking timebomb, waiting to go off and destroy cities. Instead they just ignored it, because he was happy to effectively kill a few women at a time, turning them into puppets to keep himself sexually satisfied."
"I've met one of Heartbreaker's children," I disclosed, "one of the few who escaped. He's a good kid at heart, I think, but damaged almost to the point of sociopathy. He learned how to puppet people, using a temporary method much different than his father, and still doesn't get why it's wrong, only that doing so isn't worth the blowback he'd get for it. His father's inflicted overwhelming, mind-numbing terror on him so many times, and to such a degree that the boy can't feel scared of anyone but his father anymore. If there was anything left of those women, they'd be screaming in their heads until the day they died, but Heartbreaker doesn't even allow them that, wiping everything out. The man was a cancer on the level of the Slaughterhouse Nine, and the fact that the PRT knew where he was and did nothing surprises me, but it really shouldn't."
"'bout time someone did something about him then," Brix said, surprising me. "Mind you, no way that person's ever gonna get thanked for that, let alone paid."
I just shrugged, "That's why it's good to have alternate revenue streams. Heroing doesn't pay, but that's why I work as a Healer for those willing to spend the money for my services."
"And that be workin', even with all them revenuers sniffing down your neck?" Brix asked skeptically.
"It does when you hire lawyers to take care of it," I shot back, glad to get off the topic.
"Hmmf," he snorted. "That be just usin' one evil to fight another."
Working on the sap we'd collected yesterday gave us, gave me something to do. The taps we'd carefully put in the previous day had been re-bagged and tasking a beetle to go look at the trees within my range had shown that the maples had completely healed from being drilled without a single blemish. Hedera had returned to her room, and Herb and I worked in silence, though he did give me odd looks from time to time. Brix came out after an hour and looked over our work with an approving nod.
"That rifle you be puttin' away last night," the retired hero said leadingly.
"We've got a Tinker," I confirmed. "The warning he put in tripped, so I'd not use it again before he okays it, but he made what did that."
"This boy got a name?" he asked me.
I looked to Herb, who shook his head, "Not yet."
"Not officially," I told the retired hero. "And he's a long way from being ready to fight."
"Ready to fight?" echoed the florakinetic.
"I won't put anyone in the line of fire unless I think they're ready," I stated. "Going off half-cocked is a good way to get yourself killed. Break, Enter, and I are there, barely, but our other team members aren't. We fought the ABB because we had to, to save the city, but we've still got a ways to go before I'd be comfortable doing the entire 'patrol and wait to get attacked' song and dance."
He was quiet for a long moment. "Fancy a bit of a spar? Ya be talkin' a good game, but I'd like to be seein' if you can be backin' up your barkin'."
"Um, the syrup," I hedged.
"-Will keep. Unless you're scared," he teased a little.
I looked at Herb and he just grinned. "I'm next!" was all the support he gave.
After getting Hedera, along with Herb and I changing into our costumes, all four of us moved deeper into the forest, coming across a clearing in the middle of the woods that, by the disturbed snow and thicker than normal forest at the edges, hadn't been a clearing five minutes ago. Herb was off to the side, grinning like a loon, and Hedera, all bundled up, was standing there right next to him, a thermos full of hot chocolate under her arm.
Brix waved for me to go to one side of the clearing, and I hesitated. "What kind of spar is this going to be?" I asked.
"The kind where we fight," he said, but he seemed amused, not taking my questioning for cowardice.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Are we starting light and going harder to get each other's measure? Should I try new things? Should I go straight for the win? There's different kinds of fight."
"You be tryin' ta win, and we'll be seein' how that gets ya," Brix smiled.
I nodded, "Then please armor up, so I don't accidentally hurt you."
He gave me a long look then nodded once, his power flaring downwards to something buried below us. Branches seemed to explode around him, twisting tight and forming a suit of wooden armor around him, the bark creating a flowing armor that covered him from head to toe, slits open for his eyes. Copying the technique, I gave him a single nod, floating over to where I'd be fighting him, landing on the ground. I could See his power priming something below me, but it wouldn't get a chance to work.
"When you say start, deah," Brix called to his daughter.
She looked between the two of us, excited but maybe a little worried, something else in her expression as well. She opened her mouth to say "Go," but both of us were moving before she made a sound.
I leapt into the air, wooden hands growing up around where I'd been a moment before as I unholstered my hidden, Speed Zone enhanced pistol and drew down on Brix's chest. A wall of wood sprung up as I pulled the trigger, obscuring him from my line of sight. My insects, however, caught sight of him rolling to the side as the round hit the barrier and broke it apart, splintered wood flying into the space where he'd just been, burying themselves like daggers into the snow.
As he moved down the barrier, I fired three more times, punching holes in his wooden wall, stopping when he positioned himself so a shot would've sent hand sized splinter flying towards Herb and Hedera. "Good!" Brix called as the trees behind me moved, growing spears of timber and hands with which to throw them. "But now what's your plan?"
"I wait, old man, and use what you give me," I replied calmly, watching his power go to work. Holstering my gun, I stared at where he stood behind his barrier, now a half circle thirty feet wide and fifty feet long. My first instinct was to grab the spear the tree threw at me and hurl it directly at him, but I quickly remembered that the only requirement for him controlling the wood is that he grew it. That kind of showboating would have him immediately grow the spear down my arms to bind me.
Instead I dodged the projectile, flying up high and angling myself around the wall he'd made. Diving down towards him, a dome of wood grew to cover him, spikes growing up and out of it. Spinning around to lead with my foot, I slammed down onto the structure next to where he'd been and reached out to grab him, but he was already gone. The wood surged towards me, already hooking around my feet, and I had to launch myself up, draining the shield on my other foot, the first broken from my descent.
Looking around he was nowhere to be found, likely in a tree. "Don't be a Stranger," I said, staring at the trees below. "If you wanted to make this a Master fight you just should've said so."
Reaching out with Taylor's power I took hold of the insects in the forest below, commanding them to converge on the arena we'd entered. They gathered, a trickle at first but then a stream, buzzing angrily as I searched for Brix.
The trees started throwing more spears, but they were easily dodged, my Aerokinesis meant that even the ones that got close, which in turn exploded into tendrils to try to grab me, still missed by several feet. The insects continued to gather and blanket the area, the trees' aim getting worse and worse. I've found him, I thought, I just don't know where. The bugs were messing up his line of sight, I just didn't know which ones.
Concentrating on them to find out would make me a sitting duck for the spears, but I didn't need to see through their eyes I just needed to. . . there! A few at the edge had just died, the spears being thrown my way becoming accurate once more.
Looking in the other direction from him, I focused on the bugs, finding exactly where he was. I managed to get a few ladybugs inside his armor before flipping around and diving straight for him. He dropped down below the ground once more, the not-ents firing blindly, and I tracked him as he maneuvered himself not to the other side of the clearing, but off to one side. Flying up to be directly above him, I felt the bugs move as he tried to angle himself to see me, finally leaning outside of the tree, still armored.
Silently dropping down, making sure not to touch a branch, I placed my open hand on the back of his head, fingers splayed out. "I win," I announced, not wanting to hurt him.
"Do ya now?" called Brix, three trees over. I looked at him, then down at the armor, which turned to show that it was completely empty before exploding into growth and binding me completely.
"Huh," I said, looking over to him, my head the only part of me not encased in timber. "So, I'm in a bit of a pickle."
He looked down on me from a tree trunk, ten feet above me. "Ayuh," he agreed, smiling broadly behind his beard. "I know it."
I looked around at the wood, figuring out three ways to get out of this without tapping more powers (though it'd put him and possible the others at risk), then back at him. "Not that kind. I could show you how I'd still win, but I'm not sure I can do so without actually hurting you, which I don't want to do."
"Hard tellin' not knowin' how you'd be pullin' that one off," he commented. "Ain't nuthin' to be 'shamed of, losin' to me." Hedera, who looked oddly disappointed, moved to walk towards us only to be stopped by Herb, who was still smiling.
"Yeah. Um. That's not what's happening here. If you could be so kind as to go stand with the other two, I could show you what I mean," I offered in turn, directing the insect swarm all around us to head back into the woods.
He snorted, seeming to flow down the tree before calmly walking over to the other two. "Whenever ya be ready, Vejovis."
I gave him a nod, throwing up an Air Shield in front of them, just in case, "Can you grow a dummy for where you were when you first spoke?" I requested. One appeared, stepping naturally out of the wood like a real person. My Sight greedily drank in the use, and the level of precision needed to pull that off was astounding. It was a pity that I was going to wreck it with sheer power. "Right. This might get loud," I warned, and gripped the wood encompassing me with both hands, with both crystalline shields shifted to run along my knuckles.
I'd gotten them to work by discharging them to enhance strikes, like Glory Girl did, but their purpose wasn't to enhance blows, just pure strength, tearing through new growth like it was rotten and moving my arms just forward enough to make this work. Slamming my elbows back, discharging the shields there, gave me room to pull back and shove my arms forward like pistons, slamming the palms of my hands forward as hard as I could into the wood in the direction of the dummy Brix. I did so in one smooth movement, taking less than a half a second from grip to push.
There was a thunderclap as the wood exploded and was thrown outwards at speeds only I could likely see, timber accelerated to the speed of bullets, if not more, tearing into the trees, blasting them to splinters, as well as the trees behind them, and the trees behind them. After what was left of that part of the forest finished raining down like snow, the devastation left behind looked like a tornado had blasted through sideways.
I negligently slammed myself backwards, dispelling the shield there and blowing the tree off me, lifting up and using the shields on my forearms to crack off the pieces still clinging without draining them. Glancing backwards, Brix and Hedera were staring at the damage, all three of them covering their ears. The Air Shield was nicely splinter-free, so I dismissed that entirely.
Flying back, I dropped down to ground level and started to walk towards them. "So, yeah, if this was a fight you were dead the moment you revealed yourself, but I don't want to actually hurt you. Hence my problem."
Brix gave me a long, considering, look before grinning broadly, "I be appreciatin' that. So, how'd'ya feel about marryin' my daughter?"
"I. . . I'm sorry, what?" I asked, nonplussed. "You, that, what?"
"She's smart as a whip, good around the house, and wicked cunnin'," he insisted.
"Daaaad!" the girl in question groaned, turning bright red.
"I, um, no?" I sputtered. She was kinda cute, and not jailbait like Taylor, but I'd just met the girl, and we'd had a grand total of one one-on-one conversation. "I mean, I'm kinda busy, and what I'm doing is really dangerous, I mean, I lead from the front, and it wouldn't be fair to her, and-"
"And he's kinda got someone he's interested back home," Herb interjected.
"No I don't," I snapped. "We're not dating!"
Brix gave me a long look, then nodded. "Ah, you're one of those." Those what? I thought, but couldn't think of anything to say in response. Brix gave me another nod, "I understand." He turned to look at Herb. "What about you? I've already been seein' ya fight, and if yer with this one," Brix nodded in my direction, "Yer only gonna get better."
Hedera blushed even harder, carefully inspecting her shoes.
My teammate gave her a long look. "Is that what you want?" he asked her gently, not joking in the slightest.
She played with the thermos in her hands, "I. Yes." She mumbled. Where is this coming from? Who does this? I thought as I watched this play out.
"Then I'd love to," Herb smiled broadly.
Brix looked at him for a long moment before smiling in return. "Good man. C'mon Hedera, let's go be getting' you ready."
The father and daughter walked off, leaving the two of us behind. Once they where out of earshot I turned on Herb, who looked far too calm with what just happened. "Dude. What. The. Fuck?" I practically hissed.
He just smiled that stupid fucking smile of his. "We're gonna Rom-Com this bitch," he stated authoritatively, a red flag if I'd ever seen one.
"One, I fucking hate Rom-Coms, two, what the fuck does that mean?" I demanded.
He looked at me, confused, confident stance broken, "Wait, you hate Rom-Coms? How can you hate Rom-Coms? They're fantastic trash!"
I nodded slowly, as I thought it would be obvious, desperately wondering how 'Rom-Com' equaled 'Marry a girl you just met!' Actually, that fit a bit too well, but I'd answer his question first. "Well, I seemed to miss the seminar on how relationships were supposed to work, so I turned to media."
He slowly nodded in return, face pained as he made the connection, "So you used Rom-Coms?"
"Doesn't work!" I yelled, throwing up my hands. "At least, not unless you're really fuckin' hot, and I wasn't playing life on easy mode then because I was fat, so all it was, was people laughing about lies and girls saying they wanted the thing, that when you did it, they didn't actually want."
"Nooo. Noo," he sighed, shaking his head. "The number one rule of life is it never works unless you're hot."
"I wouldn't say number one, but it's up there," I agreed, distracted. "Right up there with 'don't listen to most people about what they want.'" I groaned, "That's why I hate romantic comedies, they're neither romantic, nor comedic. I don't like seeing people in pain, physical, psychological, emotional, or otherwise, so I derive no joy from them!"
He nodded again, seeing my point, "Yeah, you can inadvertently fall into one of those, but not purposefully do so."
I motioned around us, "Pretty sure you just fucking did." He just shrugged, grinning once more. "How does this work with your plans? Fuck it, do you even have any fuckin' plans?
He shrugged again, unconcerned, "Deal with Kayden."
"That's it? Deal with Kayden. For the full week? I know that this is gonna create one hell of shitstorm, but then we have to fight Leviathan!" I practically yelled.
"Probably gonna take a week," he nodded, as if that answered my question.
I couldn't help but ask, "How about training with your powers to get stronger?"
"Huh," he said, as if he hadn't considered this before. "Yeah. That should be a thing."
"That should be a. . ." I trailed off the terminal stupidity on display finally too much for me to handle. "Did you even think about this in the slightest?"
He shook his head, "Not really, no"
I stared at him. He's gotta be messing with me. He has to be. But try as I might, there was nothing in his tone, nothing in his body language, nothing at all that suggested he was anything else but being completely honest. Unbidden, a question crossed my lips, not angry, just curious: "What is your problem?"
Herb looked honestly confused by my query, finally answering, "Nuthin'."
There was a long pause, as I felt mental circuit breakers pop. There was a disconnect here. One that ran deep. Either he was messing with me, in which case I was going to beat him so bad he'd need my healing power to be able attend his own wedding, or he was being completely serious and just straight up didn't understand why I was so upset. There really could be no third option.
"Dude," I said seriously, "Leviathan is here in a week and a fuckin' half!" I wasn't angry, just trying to get across the enormity of the situation.
"Yeah," he nodded, still confused, "and we're taking a break."
"From doing w-" I started to ask, but I knew that going down that road would just lead to weasel wording, obfuscation, and more miscommunications. I needed to be as fair and straightforward as possible here. "Okay, I know what I've been doing but what the fuck have you been doing? I want to assume it's been something, but I haven't seen anything, and I haven't heard anything, so there's no way for me to know exactly what you've been doing."
There was another long pause where I just stared at him, waiting for him to reply without giving him anything to spin, anything to react to, forcing whatever he said to stand on its own.
Eventually he shrugged again, the movement looking awkward. "Handlin' stuff."
"Like what?"
"Things," was the entirety of his answer.
"Oh of course! Things and stuff and stuff and things and I'm trying to throw together a plan to save our lives when I could've just been doing things!" I yelled, but Herb wasn't getting what I was saying, and once again the circuit popped, draining the anger from me. "You know why I stopped making plans with you?" I asked calmly.
Herb was looking more than a bit confused, but just shrugged again, "No. I thought it was because you were still mad."
"About the Dinah thing?" I queried.
"Yea-" he started to nod, seemingly happy to be back on solid conversational ground, only for me to interrupt him.
"Well after I fixed your goddamn fucking problem, I figured we could move on-" I started to say, only to be interrupted by him in turn.
"Which, honestly," he commented, not finishing his sentence.
I waited for him to finish his sentence, not doing the job for him. It was a working theory, but maybe, just maybe, he didn't actually have the rest of his sentence thought out whenever he did this, using whatever I came up with as a springboard while pretending that's what he meant all along. So, instead of giving him that, I just asked, "Yes?"
"You did that wrong," he chided me, as if he was in a position to do so. "You shoulda at least had some help."
I'll bite. "Oh, okay." I nodded. "Like what?"
"Like me," he replied without missing a beat.
Instead of dismissing what we both knew was a fucking lie, I took him seriously. "Okay, so would you have been able to sit there and just watch her get shot up with drugs, waiting for the exact correct moment to move so you didn't fuck up the timelines? Would you have been able to sit back and watch an innocent girl suffer, knowing it was the only way to stop your plan to save her from falling to goddamn pieces?" I asked intently.
He shrugged nonchalantly, "No."
"Yeah, so that's why I didn't fucking bring you!" I snapped, forcing myself to calm down with a long sigh. "More than just that-"
"Wait," he interrupted, looking disgusted. "you sat back and watched?"
You do not get to judge me! "I fucking had to to do everything at the correct time to keep Coil's two timelines in sync. It's literally the only way to get around his powers!"
He shook his head sadly, muttering, "At least you saved her. That was weighing on me."
"For good fucking reason," I growled. Fuck it, let's go for the throat. "That's your problem. You don't fucking plan. And when I try to plan with you I can't get a goddamned straight answer out of you. Ever. I think we have a plan, I think we're going to go do a thing, and then you're all like, 'oh that works, and I'm just going to go out in the identity that's tied to the hero group I'm a part of', linking, you know. . . oh god," I sighed, pressing my hands to my face. "Just let me count the ways!"
"First of all, you were going to go start shit as Break. Do you know how much of a fucking line I'm walking with the PRT to try to keep them off our asses?" I demanded. "And you're a registered member of this team and you're just gonna go start shit?"
He looked shocked, and timidly replied, "You're right."
I looked at him incredulously, not sure if this was honest or just another trick, "Don't just 'you're right' me! Dude, you don't tell me before you do things. Now I do the same thing, don't get me fucking wrong, but at least my plans have some sense to them!"
"I believe I'm doing the right thing at the time I'm doing the right thing!" he defended.
"Do you even think about the thing or do you just convince yourself you're doing the right thing and stop there?" I practically sneered. That answer was so bullshit it fucking moo'd.
There was a long pause as I waited for an answer that never came.
"Yeah, that's what I fuckin' thought!" I spat. "So, oh god," I groaned as I thought where do I go from here? "What is your plan for Leviathan? I'm assuming you have one, at least."
Herb looked down, not meeting my eyes. "Well, meet him at the ocean. . . fight him into the land. . . hopefully reduce some of the damage. . . whup his ass."
I blinked at this. My own plans were nested, relying on various variables, ready to adapt around what Cauldron did with the forewarning, with backups in case we got lucky and Behemoth, or the Simurgh, showed up instead. "I. . . I'm sorry," I said. "What."
He started to recite his 'plan' again: "Meet him at the ocean-"
"No I fuckin' heard you the first time, I just wanted to give you the chance to see how stupid that was!" I snapped. "So your great plan is to fight the Hydrokinetic in the ocean, to start with. . ." I tried to figure out the mindset required to make that plan. What I came up with. . . wasn't good. "Dude. You do know that's how you die. . . right?" I asked him without rancor, trying a gentler approach. "Your power ramps with time, not fighting him at his strongest right off the- Send Boojack to do that if you want to see how well that plan's gonna fucking turn out," I suggested, swearing without heat. "You can make more clones, I can't make more yous."
"Yeah, true. Clones would be nice," he commented.
"What do you mean 'would be'?" I asked incredulously. "you already have them!"
"Yeah but I don't really do it, they have, like, their own mind. It's really weird," he complained.
"They're you. You've said so!" I reminded him. This is why I hate liars, because everything turns into a game of 'I know I said that but I didn't mean it!' or 'If you can't remember it in exacting detail then it never happened and you're the liar!'. "They're all you if you took a different path in life."
"I know," he agreed, not even bothering to address the lie I'd just revealed. "It's. . . weird."
"They're. . ." I trailed off, realizing that he'd turned my serious concern into another side conversation. He'd just made a statement, and when I proved that statement was wrong, he didn't argue, didn't apologize, just changed the subject. I got the distinct feeling he wasn't even doing it on purpose, which just made it worse in so many ways. Nothing to do but address the core problem and ignore the diversions. "That's not even why I'm mad. I try to be clear. I try my best to be clear. I succeed most of the time, correct?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"Yeah." I echoed, keeping my tone mild even as I asked, "Why can't you pay me back that same. Basic. Fucking. Courtesy?"
"Ehh," he said, making as if he was going to say something. Then he didn't, and I let the moment hang.
Drawing out the moment long enough to make it clear that I knew exactly what he was doing, I finally continued my point, "When I ask you what is going on, you do not answer the question I am asking. You answer the question you think I am going to ask next. And, I mean, if you're right, oh, look at you, you're so wise, and mystic, and cryptic, and bullshit. But when you're wrong, I can't even have a conversation with you because you're having a conversation with someone that doesn't exist!"
"Sorry 'bout that," he shrugged.
I started to get mad, but tamped the heat down to the point that it was ice cold. "That's just it? 'Sorry'?"
The moment dragged, and dragged, and it became very clear that this time, I wasn't going to say anything. "Okay, look," he said seriously. "I know I'm not the perfect partner, and I may be goin' about this the wrong way." I stared coldly at him, not saying a word. "But I'll listen to you more."
YOU TRITE MOTHERFUCKER HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO A GOD-DAMNED THING I'VE BEEN SAYING? I raged internally, keeping my expression as calm as I could, though my voice still carried a fraction of my frustration, "That's just it! I don't want you to listen I want you to fucking Talk!"
"Well I don't doooo that wellll," he replied, finishing in a sing songy voice, referencing something.
"I'm sorry. Was that supposed to be funny," I said, voice dead.
He at least had the decency to wince, "A little bit."
"Yeah, ya fucking failed, just like you fail at fucking planning," I informed him.
"Well, I'm a sucky planner," he said, as if that absolved him of all guilt.
"Yes!" I cried, emotions spinning out of control. "So maybe, maybe, here's a thought, ya just, I don't know, say your plans out loud?" I asked sarcastically. "Check them with other people? I've realized I need to start doing so and am going to do so with Taylor because I forgot about the fucking armor 'cause that, that, was fuckin' dumb! But seriously dude, at least I'm trying to talk to someone, and most of my plans seem to work! Are you talking to anyone?"
There was a long pause, which spoke volumes.
I let out a quivering sigh, "At least you admit it-"
"Kayden," he threw out.
I blinked. Every time I think he can't go lower. "You're really telling Kayden your plans for the future, and what you're doing?" I asked him incredulously. "Not in a 'I love you so much I want to have kids with you someday' way, but 'Here's my plan to fight Leviathan'?"
"Our relationship," he shrugged.
"Yeah, that is literally not what I just fucking asked!" I yelled. "And guess what? That relationship isn't going to work if one of you are fucking dead! That relationship isn't going to work if Scion wins."
"Which, that is something we have to work on," he admitted.
I gave him a scathing look, derision dripping from my tone, "No, really, I would've never fucking guessed."
"Look, you're the best planner I know," he said, pausing for my response. I didn't. "You have plans upon plans upon plans upon plans upon plans, and I expect you to-"
"Not five deep," I had to correct him, "but yeah, I guess."
Herb waved expansively, "I expect you to. . . plan out. . . whatever it is that we're gonna do, because you do it the best." The sheer calm confidence in his tone, with annoyingly pacifying tones, seemed so incredibly out of place with this entire conversation, I had to stop and think what kind of mindset would lead him to say that in that way. Either he was completely lying to me, but he tended not to do that. Blatant lies, after all, would be easier to deal with. But if he was honest, just bad at communicating. . .
Pieces I didn't even know existed fell into place. I was always better at planning, but the level of faith he had in me. . . it was near religious. That. . . that wasn't something I had ever expected, and it certainly wasn't something I was comfortable with. I sighed, trying not to get mad at him again. "I can't make plans if I don't know what's going on. If I make a plan that requires you to do something, or not to do something, and I assume you would because. . ." I trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain this. "Okay, when I make plans, I account for what I know people are going to do. If you're just gonna go off and do things randomly, the plan doesn't work. This is literally Accord's problem. This is literally why my actions are fucking with Cauldron."
I motioned to myself, "I am a Blindspot to their plans. You're not. Charlie is. Dad is. They can't account for us in their plans, so we're fucking up their plans. Now, you aren't a Blindspot to them, ironically for this fucking situation, but, similarly, I keep on making plans, only to constantly be on the lookout to keep you from fucking them up! Or Kayden, flying in like a fucking cowboy into a mafia shootout."
"Eh, I didn't know it was that bad," he admitted, chagrined.
Oh god. This is it. This is exactly what's been going on. It hasn't been maliciousness, it hasn't been simple stupidity, it's been blind fucking faith in me. I. . . how do I get angry about that? He hasn't been listening to me, but I've always known he's just as fucked up as I am. This is my fault. I should've seen this coming. Quietly, I started to say, "Dude, on the way here- no." I approached this from another angle, not 'you messed up', but 'you're working without seeing what you're doing'. "You have plans too man, the problem is that your plans require other people to do what you want them to do without being aware of them. They work a lot of the time too, because people don't want to be honest with themselves. But, answer me this, honestly, do I act like other people?"
He looked at me curiously "No."
"Do I react like other people?" I asked him.
Herb shook his head, "No."
"Then why the fuck are you treating me like other people." I said more than asked, feeling run down. "You're managing me, or at least trying to, and with fucking Taylor, ignoring the entire fucking thing that's turning into, I appreciate you trying to help. I do. Thank you. I'm kinda shit at being careful about people's feelings sometimes, but when you try to manage me like you try to manage other people, it doesn't fucking work."
He didn't say anything, and that, at its core, was the problem.
"Just talk to me man," I begged. "I'm not gonna get pissed. Well, unless you've already gone and done something really stupid. But just a 'hey, I'm planning on doing this' is what I'm asking for. It might be a good idea. It might be a bad idea. It might be an okay idea that could become a good idea with a bit of work. But! I gotta know that it exists in the first place!"
"I'll try to be more vocal," Herb promised, but the loophole might as well have been made of neon.
"No!" I yelled, feeling like I was nearing the end of my rope. "No don't make me be Yoda about this bullshit! Don't 'try', just fucking talk to me. If I ask a question, give me an answer to that question and then give me the extra information you think I might fucking need!" I waited for a reply, an affirmation, a denial, anything I could work with. "Okay?"
"Okay," he agreed, his tone as if he wasn't sure why I was so upset, "You're so ramped up."
"And you're way to fucking passive about this!" I cried out, out of anger, out of rage, out of anything but despair. No matter what I do I fail. I always fail. I was stupid for thinking anything else.
Herb, however, just looked confused. "'Cause. . . we got this," he affirmed with supreme confidence.
"No. No we fucking don't!" I almost sobbed. "Do you know what it would take to break everything down on our fucking heads?"
"But you won't let that happen," he stated.
"I'm. . . what?" I just looked at him, uncomprehendingly. "I'm not fucking God! I can try, I can do my best, but-"
"But you plan so well," he reasoned.
I laughed hysterically, unable to cope with what I was finding out, what had been going on this entire time, "No I fucking don't!"
"But, here's what I'm seeing. I'm seeing the stress breaks. And that's my fault," he declared.
I grimaced, while it was his actions, I should've figured this out weeks ago. "Not entirely."
He shook his head, "No it-"
"Okay, fucking yes," I cut him off before he could try to take on more shit that wasn't his fault. I didn't see this coming. That was on me. "But it's not just you it's this fucking situation, and what's going on with her, and what I need to do and-"
"So much stuff," he agreed. "Me tryin' to lighten the situation doesn't seem to be helping."
"You need to tell me you're trying to lighten it man," I implored. "I know that's not how it works for most but sometimes when you try to lighten it kinda works, but sometimes when you try to lighten it. . . just. . . it sounds like you're pulling the Dinah shit all over again. Makin' plans based on what you think you know is right, and trying to manipulate me into going along with them."
"Alright. But getting Hedera out is kinda. . ."
And now I could see the plan. "Oh god. You aren't doing this to marry her, you're doing this to get her out of Maine and out from her father's thumb, aren't you?" He just nodded, a bit of a smile coming back to his features. This one honest, not meant to distract. "Assuming that Brix doesn't fucking kill you, then. . . yeah, it'll be a good thing," I agreed. "Not what I woulda done, I've already got too much shit to worry about, but having her around would actually help a great deal, yes."
"So I did one good thing," he announced.
I just looked at him in confusion, "You, you've done more than one good thing man. You-
"All I know is this," he said, cutting me off and stepping towards me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me dead in the eyes.
"Yeah?" I asked, confused.
"I'm with you," he promised. "And I may not be the best of bests, but I'm with you. I'm literally gonna do my best to try to fill you in on what's in my head, but even I don't know what's in there sometimes. So, I'm very reaction. Don't know why I'm so reactionary. But. You make a plan? I'll letter that son of a bitch."
"And if you make a plan, fucking tell me?" I confirmed, making sure this wasn't just some over-the-top bullshit move to agree to do something that wouldn't actually change anything.
He didn't even flinch. "That I will."
"In that case, fuck," I swore stepping back and away from him, watching him carefully, looking for any expression, and bit of body language that would betray what he was saying. "You're really gonna tell me your plans? Anything large. Getting groceries, going out on a date with Kayden, not stuff like that. I'm gonna go pitch a fight- Pitch a fight? Damn I can't even fucking talk. Pick a fight with Skidmark then-"
"Yes," Herb agreed emphatically, but I needed to get it all out in the open.
"Then I'll do my best to help you and include it in my plans. And unless it's really fucking stupid I'll find a way to make it happen, or explain why I can't," I promised in turn. "Really?"
"Yes," he said again.
I wanted it to be enough, I really wanted it to be enough. One last bit of trust. That's gone, we're done forever. "Promise," I demanded.
"On my heart and hope to fly," he stated with complete seriousness.
I had to just stare at him. What the fuck did he just say? Oh god, has he not listened to a god-damned thing I said? About how if he's trying to lighten the mood he needs to say he is or it'll backfire? Is this entire thing me just fooling myself, frog and the scorpion style? No. He uses weird fucking phrases sometimes. They're funny, so people laugh and he thinks they're real. Like dire wolves being 'real in his head' when he meant imagination. I have to know though.
"So, dude," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I know you're trying to be funny, but, dude, seriously."
"I'm being serious," he promised.
"In that case. . . fuck it," I sighed. This is either going to blow up horribly, or help me save everyone, and I have no idea which one this is. If he's going to help me though, he needs to be better. "I've had some ideas. You can turn into any animal, right?"
"Right?" he asked, obviously put off by the apparent non-sequitur.
"Even fake ones, though you don't get their magical effects?" I asked leadingly.
"Right," he agreed, still not knowing where this was going.
I felt like I hadn't slept for a week, been beat with hammers, and my head and heart both ached worse then I'd ever felt, but maybe things were going to get better, for once. I gave him a tired grin, "You ever try a Dragon?"
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IronLucario2012
<Verified Pokémon> <Licensed Mech Pilot>
- Location
- Ireland
Wow. Just wow.
That was surprisingly cathartic and explains so much.
Out of curiosity, how did the RL version of that revelation go? Or whenever you found out about that little 'I really believe in your plans' bit if you already knew it before you played out this conversation.
That was surprisingly cathartic and explains so much.
Out of curiosity, how did the RL version of that revelation go? Or whenever you found out about that little 'I really believe in your plans' bit if you already knew it before you played out this conversation.
- Location
- United States of America
Brownie and I both have acting training so we got into character and had the entire 'fight' during the monthly chat I do with my top-end Patrons. We set up the general circumstances (I'd written up through 10.8), knew this was going to happen when we were at Brix's, and just had it out while I recorded it. I didn't realize that this was what his character was doing it until it actually came up during the back and forth we had. Brownie doesn't really talk about why he does things unless I ask, as it's just obvious to him. When I asked him about it afterwords he was all like "Yeah, duh," which was. . . aggravating, but it's why he writes his own character and I just try to add context and translate it from IRL to a literary format. We had to stop looking at the chat when someone said "Mommy and Daddy are fighting," and we both broke character as we couldn't help but laugh.
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- Location
- Somewhere in Space
Hmm...are we talking Bahamut(FF), Shenron, Porunga, or Tiamat(D&D)? The results will be delicious.
- Status