"Absolutely not."
"I refuse," Weld agreed.
The PR guy tried to explain: "It's just a photo."
"No," we denied for the third time. "We don't want to ride on Weld's shoulders."
The metallic brute helped us, pointing at the van: "We have patrol in ten minutes, and you heard the lady."
The assistant relented: "Fine. But I need some promotional material."
He stormed off and closed the door.
"Thanks," we said to Weld.
"No problem. In my second photoshoot, he wanted me to look like a robot."
We shook our head: "Would people even like it?"
He smirked: "Apparently. Just after a few weeks, the Machine Army happened, so..."
"Talk about timing," we commented.
The atmosphere sobered up. S-class threats weren't great jokes.
We quickly joined the rest of the team.
"PR, eh?" Slapdash asked sardonically.
"PR," we replied. "What's the catch today?"
"We are going to patrol near the shop where Gumball pulled up his first stunt," Grinder answered, patting his armor.
It was a big and bulky thing, silver and white.
The helm was round and featureless, except for the blue visor. A big shell on the back held the batteries and the engine. The gauntlets looked more like heads of maces, and the legs had powerful thrusters.
It wasn't elegant, but it looked effective: we didn't find obvious weak points, not even in the joint.
If we had to fight it, we would use one of our two Noble Phantasms, hypothetically speaking.
Firefly snorted: "Talk about excessive force."
The tinker joined the laugh: "I know, but hey, Betty here look the part. Speaking of which, I need to get inside it."
After pushing a button on his costume, the shell opened with a hiss. It didn't look comfortable or livable, but it was approved, so we didn't need to worry about that.
Once we reached our destination, we separated into two groups: Weld and Grinder were on the main street while the other three of us acted as fast responders.
It was our first patrol of only Wards, but it was a PR stunt first and foremost.
For about fifteen minutes, it was boring, which was good.
Unfortunately, we eventually heard a crash accompanied by a burst of 'villainous' laughter coming from the alley on our right.
A blue ball headed towards us at high speed. We threw one scalpel, but the sphere flew over it.
We ducked, pressing ourselves to the wall.
"Get the gummy out, midget!"
We summoned our weapons and rushed after him, but he was flying again.
"Met Gumball. He's heading towards the East Road," we relied on the comms.
"Slapdash, Firefly, chase him. Ghostchild, stay close to Grinder and Weld."
Grinder added: "Don't use your Stranger power yet."
"Roger," we grumbled. We knew he wasn't a 'serious' villain, but this was holding back a lot.
We ran towards the two brutes.
"He must be a Thinker! Nothing I throw at him hits!" Firefly complained.
"He's making a fool of us!" Slapdash added.
We gritted our teeth.
The first Boston villain we faced was a bully, how unexpected.
Weld was calming some of the bystanders, hurrying them out of the way.
Grinder put himself at a crossroad, coordinating with the cops to close the road.
<We are on route.>
<Miss Militia?>
<We had another altercation.>
Why wasn't she using the comms? Nevermind, we had a job to do.
After vanishing our daggers, we joined Weld in his efforts.
"Gumball is heading your way!" Slapdash informed.
Unfortunately, we had to deal with another nuisance: it was hard to dissect the hands of the cape addict in front of us.
"Please ma'am, could you please leave the road?" we asked kindly and reasonably.
"My daughter wanted an autograph," she stated firmly.
We smiled, took out a pen, and firmed the damned thing.
She faltered, nodded to herself, and walked out of the way.
There was something that didn't match.
All the cars were parked and the road was blocked, practically everyone was already inside a shop or out of the way, but we were hearing the sound of screeching tires and the rumble of a motor coming closer.
We heard a crash. The annoying woman dropped on the sidewalk like a ragdoll, dirtying it with her blood.
A car fizzled in and out of view like a bad special effect from a sci-fi film, until the cloaking device failed.
The vehicle was ugly, made of mish-mashed parts, gruesomely decorated with human bones and parts, blades, and spikes.
In the middle of the hood, a demented skull whose teeth looked like shelled pistachio nuts was nailed down like a macabre trademark of the gang.
Whatever tinker-tech failed, it didn't stop the car.
We rushed towards the injured and yelled to the mic: "The Teeth are here, Grinder, they are coming towards you."
We checked the woman and sighed. She was alive, but out of commission. We took her between our arms, not an easy feat when she was at least 18'' taller than us, and brought her inside a shop.
We started checking her wounds, but she had a concussion, and we weren't confident we could do anything about that.
"I'm a nurse," a gel haired man inside said. "I can take care of her."
We dwelled about it, but a second crashing sound made our decision.
We left him our emergency kit and got out.
Grinder was near the vehicle, swatting an irritating blue ball that abruptly changed direction towards us.
We watched it disappear in the sky and cursed its existence.
Slapdash stopped zigzagging beside our team leader, Firefly was keeping watch from the sky and Weld was coming as well.
We entered Concealment.
One of the back doors was opened, and she came out.
She was a tall and elegant woman, wearing an Asian looking costume trimmed with razor-sharp blades.
On her back, she had strapped a massive composite bow, that united her original power, space-bending perfect accuracy within her range, and her inherited superstrength in a deadly mix.
Stabbing her from behind sounded appealing, but immensely stupid. She was a brute and she had a form of danger-sense, anything less than lethal was useless.
Lethal was worse.
She said just one word: "Move."
We could feel Grinder's fear and hesitation behind his armor, which again didn't protect him from her ability to inflict pain.
We quickly closed the distance and watched inside the car.
Hemorragia was on the driver seat rubbing her head, and behind her was a gagged sobbing woman.
Her clothes were dirty and thrashed, her make-up completely ruined. On her left arm were some puncture marks, and she looked completely drugged out of her mind.
We told the rest of the team: "There are Hemorragia and a hostage."
<Militia, how long? Butcher and Hemorragia are here!> We hurried our Master.
<We are coming. Keep yourself and the team safe!>
A heavily modified voice answered the Butcher's request: "Release the hostage."
Butcher closed her eyes and crossed her arms, mulling over it.
"No."
She pointed her hand at our team leader. He started screaming.
Weld moved to tackle her, but she teleported away. We turned towards the explosion.
She was already drawing the bow, we had to act fast. We didn't know how strong Grinder's armor was.
We threw some scalpels, but she dodged them easily.
She pointed her weapon at us, but a fireball soared her in the back.
"Leave the kid alone!" Firefly shouted.
The Butcher leaped at him and struck him with pain.
A smokeless flame engulfed him for a second before he managed to escape from her range.
His skin looked sweaty and irritated.
The villain was hardly singed.
"Go the fuck away or I'll off her!" Hemorragia shouted.
The hostage had a gash on her cheek, and the blood leaking out took the form of a thin but razor-sharp blade over her neck.
If we still had Concealment, we could have done some stunt, but we didn't have it.
The Butcher would read any weird move. Using the Mist against her was detrimental, she could see the veins and arteries of people regardless.
<I'm seeing you.>
<Where is the Protectorate?> we asked.
<We're being careful. You Wards are hostages as well.>
Butcher's bow was drawn tight.
<What are we supposed to do?>
<Retreat.>
We blinked. <At the cost of the hostage?>
<She's a fugitive villain from Brockton Bay. The car must be her tech.>
The Empire and the ABB were fighting their little 'Cold War'. Bay was shitty for real.
"I'm not kidding! Get the fuck out of the way, kids!" Hemorragia threatened, using the blood blade to slash the other cheek of the victim.
<This isn't right!> we cried.
<Ghostchild...>
<How many did the Teeth kill already?>
<Your safety come first.>
<If our safety was so important, we wouldn't be on the street.>
<That wasn't the point. You can't act as you want.>
She could make me act as she wanted, though.
"How do we know you aren't going to screw us around?" Firefly asked. "Your boss already sent one of ours to the hospital."
"Enough talk," the boss in question said.
Damnit, Hannah was right, we were as much of hostages as the drugged tinker.
But... oh, oh!
"Ghostchild, why are you smiling?" Grinder asked worriedly on the comms.
<Militia, can you distract Hemorragia?>
<What do you want to do?>
We told her.
<Absolutely not.>
"Get rid of her," Butcher ordered.
Hemorragia looked at her bewildered.
"We don't need her."
<Please.>
Grinder shouted in the comms: "Plan eightball!"
<Ok.>
Hemorragia got shot with a dart.
Slapdash blurred forward to catch the tinker, who was as thin as a skeleton.
Firefly shot another fireball at the Butcher, who shot her arrow.
Weld intercepted the shot rushing in front of the Striker, getting impaled as a result.
Grinder fought with Hemorragia, keeping her occupied. For once, he was the one being careful with his punches.
"My battery is almost finished," Grinder advised.
It didn't matter. In the rush, nobody looked at us, so we entered Concealment.
The Butcher teleported and drew her arrow again.
We cut the string and dematerialized.
We didn't like doing so, it made us feel vulnerable.
It was the weakest state a Servant would be in. We told our worry to the Protectorate and got tested.
Shaker effect and Striker effect could hurt us heavily. But the Butcher only had the pain surge, and it attacked the nerves of the target.
Hard to have nerves if you didn't have a body.
We reappeared a few feet away.
Grinder shouted: "Go away peacefully, and we'll do so as well."
Hemorragia, who was under his weight, wasn't as confident as our glorious leader.
The Butcher mulled over it, probably listening to the other voices.
"We'll remember this."
She calmly walked towards the car, Grinder stepped out of the way.
The gang leader took her subordinate from her collar and threw her inside.
She got on the driver seat, the car started, and she was away.
<You're grounded.>
The team report was long and tedious.
We were saved by staying on console for twenty months because having seven Wards at the same time was useless.
We had to agree to the PR photo shoot.
"Did we really do it?" Grinder asked himself.
"Go away peacefully, and we'll do so as well," Weld thundered behind him.
"Ahah," the tinker laughed monotone. "I was shitting my pants."
"Me too," Slapdash said. "And I was the first to get out."
"But you didn't get hurt, nor the hostage got hurt," Firefly pointed.
"The practice paid," she smirked. "We one-upped the freaking Teeth!"
"Because you had a sniper, not exactly cape stuff," Hunch commented.
"The Teeth don't play by Cape stuff," we said. "We so wanted to stab him."
Weld raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow: "What are you saying?"
"That Gumball!"
"Motion approved, he caused the incident," Grinder said.
"Aye, aye."
"I'm surrounded by assholes," Hunch drawled.
We glared at him.
"What, never seen Spaceballs?"
"Spacewhat?"
Slapdash punched the table. "That's a most serious offense. What do you say, captain? We need to make her see the truth."
"You're right," Grinder said. "Tonight is film night."
Firefly commented: "Fitting. We stopped because our old comrade fell, and now that Ghostchild has proven worthy to the occasion..."
Slapdash slapped his fake cigarette. "It's not funny."
Weld added his two cents: "I'm all for it."
We grumbled: "Fine."
"Stop being grumpy, Taylor," Slapdash bitched.
We looked at her. "You never called us with our name."
"Sasha it's mine."
We were doing this?
She removed her mask. "Keeping it up all the time is annoying."
Grinder followed her in the act: "Have to agree. I'm Thomas."
Firefly fidgeted. "Call me Rob."
Hunch continued: "This is so cliché, you know?"
"Shut up," Sasha retorted.
He rolled his eyes.
