The new year greeted the city with, surprisingly enough, quiet and calm. At least in this particular portion of it. The snow laid thick on the wide, open streets, shining in the reflected light of the morning sun, intercepted with long shadows of the skyscrapers dominating the landscape. An astute eye could spot empty cans and bottles and burnt out fireworks lying around, which together with the broken windows some of the shorter buildings sported, somewhat detracted from the charm. That is to say, the idyllic visage of a winterswept, sleepy town meant no one noticed when a person showed up in the middle of the street in a ripple of air and a cloud of displaced snow. The
stranger looked unassuming, a high collared grey jacket over white sweater and dark pants, pale skin, with short black hair and grey eyes, about average height. Everything about him was average and unremarkable, really.
A quick examination of the surroundings didn't yield much in the way of identifying landmarks for the man, unless one counted a rather on the nose gang tag brazenly displayed on the wall of one of the skyscrapers.
A pair of eights, which also looked like a pair of different symbols, should one be so inclined to interpret them. Black on a red background too, just to drive the point home.
"Subtle." The man muttered under his breath. Concerning, too, given that it was big enough and placed so tall it'd have taken a whole crew with scaffolding to get it done. At least a glance at himself in one of the nearby windows told him they probably would leave well enough alone.
There was, of course, the rather poignant question of how he'd gone from a hispano-asiatic hairball to the human embodiment of white bread. Unfortunately, all his brain provided was a whole bunch of microwave noises and a vague impression of having agreed to something.
Well, that and a name. Outis Karas, because apparently he was engaging in the ancestral catalonian tradition of looting the Greeks now. Not that he had an alternative, either, with how his actual name was blotted out with static. Which–
Yeah, he was not going to dwell on any longer, thank you. Time to check his pockets and see how screwed he was in the immediate. A quick go revealed a pack of seven cards in his back pocket, going through all the colours of the rainbow in a gradient. And then, because magic was apparently real, the world seemed to freeze, everything but him and the cards sliding to grayscale.
[
Account Name: 'Outis Karas' accepted.]
[Welcome to P/HO. To begin the game, you must equip a Class Card. You have been given seven Blank Cards.]
[Blank Cards provide basic parameter increases and access to class-specific Skills. Upgrading them will allow for greater parameter increases, levelling the Skills and acquisition of Personal Skills and Noble Phantasm.]
[To equip a Blank Card, simply state "(Colour + Class Name), Install!"]
[Due to that, another name for Blank Cards is Chromatic Class Cards.]
"Merda." He swore under his breath, then did it again when he saw the
design on the top card. Missing memories, appearing somewhere with no explanation, vague recollection of an agreement, Servant Class Cards? The only question was what terrifying force of nature he was the world-saving errand boy of now.
Worse, it being so overt meant that things were
bad. The Counter Forces were lazy fucks, they would much rather just give things a tiny nudge nobody would ever notice. He
supposed it could be Zelretch, the pop up windows weren't that far off from giving someone a Kaleidostick, but the old man would've had the common decency of giving him an actual briefing.
…Right. He didn't know these beings. Just a mushroom's marketable takes on them. He'd have to play it by the ear, then. At least the decision of what to equip wasn't hard, just took figuring out what colour the Class was.
"Indigo Assassin, Install." The clash between cringe and childlike wonder at saying something out of a tonkatsu show and meaning it was fierce, but at least nobody could see Outis' twitching face in timestop.
Foreign muscle memory guided his motions as he gripped the card firmly yet carefully between his fingers, face forward as he thrust his arm in front of him. Immediately, a magic circle sprang to life around him with a shimmer of crimson light. He knelt, pressing the Card face down to the circle, where a mirrored image of the glyph flew upwards, almost as if the field of magic was scanning his body.
Then, bands of brilliant white light erupted from seven points of the circle, entangling themselves over his head before crashing down onto Outis' still kneeling form. Yet, he could feel no weight pressing him down. Instead, he was beckoned to rise up and stand straight and proud. As he did so, indigo flames engulfed his body, covering it almost completely, save for his eyes. They burned for but a heartbeat or two before they cooled, died down and solidified into his new apparel.
A dark hoodie and sweats, their smokey swirls of deep indigo almost imperceptible if not for how they broke up his silhouette. A pair of gloves and boots that felt like a second skin, and a bandana around his neck, melting into the shadows of his hood. He felt light as a feather for all that his clenching and unclenching fingers may as well be steel claws, like he could scale that eyesore of a gang-tagged building easy as taking a stroll down the street.
[Assassin selected. In Free Roam, the Class' Presence Concealment makes it for a good scout to find out Quests and Points of Interest (Instances/Dungeons) without getting into too much trouble.]
[Relatively, early on.]
"Loving the confidence." Outis (or Assassin right now, he supposed) grumbled as he scrunched into his new outfit. It may make him look like a mugger but damn if the indomitable spirit of humanity didn't know how to make some comfy sweats.
[You can designate two other Cards as your 'Hand'. Cards belonging to a Hand can be Quick Swapped to adjust as the situation demands. In Free Roam, it has little effect, but you cannot adjust your Hand once combat starts.]
…His heart cried out for Caster, but not only would it be a gamble if it gave him any combat ability before he put in some work, he was clearly in a first world city and that meant getting dogpiled by spooks if he did anything obviously magical. Rider was also out unless it came with a motorcycle instead of a living mount and even then he'd have to summon it out of sight, so if he had to make a quick getaway it'd have to be with Assassin.
So… "Set Archer and Berserker" Outis decided after a moment. Someone ending up full of arrows may raise some eyebrows (although it may just give him a gun, Assassin was looking pretty modern), but not enough to get him in the shit, so it was his best option in case he needed to fight at range. Berserker was the 'oh shit, oh fuck' button, plain and simple. He'd just have to hope Mad Enhancement was on a toggle and not too high rank, but if he got in a tough spot where the only way out was through, a big brick of stats was the best way.
[Archer and Berserker added to the Hand.] The system helpfully informed him.
[
Current Objective: Gather information about immediate surroundings and situation.]
[
Reward: 1x Saint Quartz.]
With that, the world slid out of grayscale and back into motion, leaving Outis back alone in 'Free Roam' of the city. With how unhelpfully open-ended the objective was, and how these kinds of things tended to go, it meant an encounter shouldn't be too far away.
"Character Sheet." He whispered, hoping that the system would cooperate. He'd been leery of prodding it when it was giving him the step by step, but now it should be fine.
Thankfully, it did cooperate. Although the screen was in his mind's eye instead of in front of his own. Which were apparently indigo now, same with his hair. Dark enough nobody would notice in the gloom of his hood, though, even if he didn't like the resemblance to Shinji one bit. Immediately relevant to him, apparently, were the first two fields in the top right, as well as the one immediately below his 'character sprite'.
[
Name: Outis Karas]
[
Current Mystic Code: None]
[
Current Card Equipped: Indigo Assassin]
Then, under the equipped card field, there was an option to see the Card's current sheet, which listed Assassin's specs which were… well, they certainly were.
[
STR: E
AGL: D
END: E
MAG: E
LCK: D]
[
Class Skills]
[
Presence Concealment [E] – At this rank, can only blend preternaturally well into a crowd or the darkness. Someone with the level of situational awareness of special forces would be able to notice Assassin's presence. If preparing for hostile action, even a normal person with good instincts would get a twinge.]
[
Personal Skills]
[N/A]
[
Armaments]
[Indigo Daggers – A solidly good quality pair of knives (
bowie and
fairbarn-sykes) with absolutely nothing unique to them. They can be dismissed and summoned as per Servant gear rules.]
[
Noble Phantasms]
[N/A]
Once done beholding the absolute state of the sneaky one, Outis noticed three more fields in the bottom right: An option to just change his name, gender toggle and a (currently greyed-out) Mystic Code selector.
The former would've been useful if, y'know, his real one wasn't completely blotted out of his memory. Another scrabble there only told him that whatever it had been, it could be read as 'nothing', so it looked like Outis was as close as he'd be getting. The latter… well, his pragmatic side said that if someone noticed him in mugger chic, being a cute girl would hopefully defuse any suspicion because people were shallow like that.
The other side of him was just chanting the 4chan mantra as he experimentally focused down on the button with his mind. It wasn't like there was a hologram for him to poke.
Immediately, he (she?) could feel himself shrink down. His mental image, after a bit of a flicker with Indigo Assassin, settled down on the
female version of him. The momentary lack of indigo filter landed her square in the 'cute girl next door' vibe.
[Gender change found and unlocked. From now on, the option to transition between the two will only require a mental command instead of digging through menus.]
[Please note that transitioning while having a Card installed may have unintended consequences, especially for Chromatic Cards. They are more malleable.]
[You would think it would be actual Servant Cards that wouldn't play nice with degenerate shenanigans, but no.]
"I mean, d'Eon exists." Outis muttered, taking note of both her voice (bright and sweet, although probably not enough for Yagoo to bust down her door) and the fact that the system definitely had some personality. That was a point towards Zelretch, man liked his assistant AIs, even if Ruby and Sapphire had turned out too obnoxious for him to bother with.
'What sort of unintended consequences?' She added in her mind experimentally, flexing it in a similar way as she'd done with the button. It'd be best if she didn't have to speak to thin air like a loon, although if need be she'd just fake a phone call.
[Certain skills and effects do have gender requirements, to begin with. Both positive and negative. Additionally, Chromatic Cards
are meant to develop with usage.]
'Right, even beyond Servant nonsense, there's things like how female magi have an easier time with flight magecraft and can use their hair as a high value item.' Lots of conceptual bullfuckery going on with what plumbing you had, if you cared to dig a bit. Ah, well, it sounded like she got to double dip without any glitches so long as she swapped while no Chromatic Card was Installed, so it was all good.
'Or does consistently using a certain card as a specific gender cause it to shift too?'
[Negative. Consistently and frequently switching between states while equipping a Chromatic Card
may influence it.]
'Cool, cool. I'll leave sleeping dogs lie, I think.' Outis started strolling as she threw around her musings. Partly because a darkly clothed figure standing still in an empty street didn't exactly inspire warm and fuzzy feelings in people (even if it seemed to be early enough everyone should still be sleeping off their hangovers), partly just to revel in how fucking good her body felt. E rank may sound like shit, but ten times the average human performance was one hell of a drug. She felt like she could run a triathlon, deadlift a car and pinball across those skyscrapers like she was a Tenno on ten cups of coffee.
The surrounding buildings were somewhat well maintained, even if there was still some level of dilapidation here and there. Clearly a more struggling sort of city, then. And, of course, the gang tags strewn all over the place, if more reasonably obscured than the first one that greeted Outis. Possibly a consequence of celebrations getting out of hand?
As she walked, the usual sound of cars passing by started to be faintly audible in the distance. Eventually, she stumbled across a bench, with crumpled, snow covered newspaper spread out across it like the world's saddest pillow. The title read '
Brockton Bay Bulletin' and the date proclaimed 31st December 2010. The front page had a picture of an olive skinned woman in form fitting, stylised army fatigues with an american flag scarf pulled over her lower face. '
Miss Militia's public address. The ups and downs of Brockton Bay Protectorate for the past year.' The last page had a blurry picture of four shadowy figures riding… some sort of quadrupeds. '
Undersiders, the bold teen villains on the upswing?'.
…
……
'At least it isn't Marvel or DC?' Outis thought just a touch hysterically. The good news was that she could pretend to be a superhero and nobody would bat an eye at her nonsense… hopefully. It may very well play by MHA rules with one pretty narrow power per person, so she may still get dogpiled by spooks just for having whole powersets she could swap between. Nevermind whatever ferocious nonsense she'd be cooking up with Caster soon enough.
Ugh, secret identities would be such a fucking pain in the ass. Even if the Chromatic Cards all came with something that worked like a mask, she'd still need to cook something up with Caster for Servant Cards. Hopefully an identity dissociation effect ala meguca wouldn't be too bothersome to cook up. Wait, didn't Kaleidosticks have that baked in?
'Hey, System, are you at a discretion to tell me who made you and what our job here is? Also, what would you like me to call you?'
[To quote a certain Servant: "
Le secret~☆."]
[No preferences.]
Outis couldn't help a soft chuckle, idly pulling her bandana up to her nose under the charade of the cold. It was actually quite nice and, if the circumstances were better, she'd be all too happy to play in the snow for a while. Didn't get much of that next to the mediterranean.
'I'll give it some thought. Maybe one of the Sephirah? Also, do you come with some identity protection or will I need to make a Mystic Code for it with Caster?'
[
Presence Concealment. All Chromatic Cards come with some form of facial cover, save for Berserker which in exchange alters facial features, if not too heavily. At least for now, further rank-ups of Mad Enhancement or Personal Skills may or may not change that.]
Yeah, she could work with that. Now, time to figure out what the fuck she was doing about her living situation. Caster should let her take over an abandoned building easily enough, so that was shelter taken care of. Beyond that…
'I already know the answer, but just to check, I don't have anything to my name other than the Chromatic Cards and whatever gear they may summon, yeah?'
[You
do have your own clothes.]
Right. Hooray for not being buck-ass naked as a normal (probably) human in the middle of the snow whenever she didn't have a Card Installed. Anyways, that meant no papers and no money. If she was lucky, superhuman Endurance meant she could go a while without food or drink, but at the end of the day she'd need to either swipe some money or sign up with a group.
…Yeah, probably better to play pickpocket on gangers for the time being. She'd rather not jump into the arms of any organisation until she had more data. Even if the world was wacky enough that having a superpowered stranger tumbling out of another dimension had government services for it… well, she may not be somewhere like Brazil or Venezuela, but the newspaper was written in american english. So depending on what state she was in, it could be anything from getting thrown in a cell to being given an apartment and a stipend.
Hopefully the libraries here didn't require an ID to use the computers.
Whatever plan she had would have to be put on hold as the footsteps crunching in the snow reached her ears. Footsteps, alongside sounds of… dogs, if she had to guess. The subtle clinking of chains certainly pointed to that. From behind the corner, a person stepped out, wearing heavy boots and fur collared jacket, face obscured by a cheap dog mask framed by locks of red hair. Accompanying them were three large dogs. The dogs stopped first, spotting Outis, causing the person to freeze as well, their gaze initially sliding over her before one of the dogs nudged a chain-wrapped arm and they managed to focus.
[Master: Bitch] the title box above their head seemed to glitch out momentarily before settling on [
Rider: Bitch].
[Congratulations, you've found a local to interrogate! Objective complete!]
[1 x Saint Quartz gained.]
[
New Objective: Successfully obtain information from Bitch.]
[
Rewards: 1 x Saint Quartz, depends on approach.]
Now, she'd never claimed to be the most socially apt person, her cocktail of neuroses made sure she was dogshit (hah) at reading cues. However, between the stage name and how the woman presented herself, figuring out a good approach wasn't exactly hard. Hands out where the superhuman could see them, Presence Concealment off, and words blunt as a brick. "Sup. New in town and not about to start shit."
Pickpocketing some gangoons to buy food wasn't exactly starting shit, as far as she was concerned.
The, going by the unflattering nickname, presumed woman grunted in acceptance of the words. She stayed silent for another long moment, hand absentmindedly petting one of her dogs as she contemplated something.
"Thoughts on dog fighting rings?" She asked eventually.
"Worse than even goddamn bullfighting." Outis replied immediately, not doing anything to keep the very real heat out of her voice, "The people who do that to dogs should get their ears clipped, see how they like it."
The woman's posture relaxed a bit more. "Wanna help bust one? I keep the dogs, you keep the cash?"
"Deal. Kinda broke right now, so cash and a public service is a win-win." Outis said with a nod after a moment's thought, rubbing her hands happily at the prospect of all the loot. It would make her some enemies with a gang, for sure, but honestly fuck 'em. Plus, it got her a tentative ally.
…Speaking of, she'd need a superhero name to be called by. '
Ah, there we go, thanks brain.'
"It's nearby. Scouted it a few times to make sure." Bitch grunted, pointing back the way Outis came. "See they announced themselves too." She added, making it obvious she spoke about the building with the massive tag on it. "You're a Stranger, can you make sure there's no capes inside?"
"Yeah, my stuff works better in a crowd, so it should be easy enough." The Assassin said with a bob of her head even as she made a mental note of the terminology. Intuitive enough.
[
New Objective: Bust a dog fighting ring.]
[
Rewards: Money, ???.]
With no more conversation forthcoming, she slunk off, letting the Class Card guide her. The skyscraper with the massive, doubled eight over its front entrance stood as it was when she left it behind not too long ago, the main entrance littered with discarded fireworks and beer bottles. Said entrance was, surprisingly enough, both automated and open, the door sliding to the sides when she approached. The foyer just beyond sported some more signs of festivities, discarded food and the likes, alongside first unmasked people around, still sleeping New Years off.
The temptation to swipe their wallets was strong, but she had a job to do here. Once they were ignored, the rest of the ground floor was fairly typical. Nothing critical there, just a reception area, a few corridors leading to unimportant looking offices, waiting rooms and, of course, toilets. Most of which were empty of people. The stairs up were behind actually locked doors and the lifts didn't seem to actually work. Finally, tucked beside a (closed and locked) back entrance was a security office where a pair of guards dozed off by a small table, completely ignoring the camera feeds, an abandoned game of cards on the table.
Well, that was promising. A peek at the feeds should tell her everything she needed to know, plus she could snatch their keys for free run of the building. A bit of work revealed that the higher floors were perfectly normal office space, with perfectly normal celebrations, with the worst things happening being cases of dubiously allowed and alcohol enabled office romance, alongside some unfortunate janitors working their way down the building.
The basement floors, on the other hand… Well, there was nothing
directly incriminating, but the amount of traffic seen from the lobby down or from the underground parking towards the stairs implied things. Swiping the keys and access card off the security guard afterwards was a little bit tricky, the men keeping them in their pockets for some semblance of challenge.
But, well,
Assassin. It may not be a capital-S Skill, but having superhumanly light fingers was part and parcel. The only real stumbling block was adjusting to the new instincts, but soon enough she was slipping down to the underground levels. The first underground level, a parking lot, didn't stand out. A whole lot of cars, but otherwise completely empty. The staircase was tucked a fair bit away from the lifts, with additional doors barring the way further down. Well, for someone without the card.
All that led to the spacious underground hall, lights dimmed, with the air heavy with the smell of smoke and alcohol, people slumped over the tables or on the benches in a variety of outfits, but with predominantly red-white-black accessorising or outright colours for the outfits. And, at the centre of it all was a caged off arena, red floor with the distinct, black double eight on it, with cages containing resting dogs just outside the gates to it. The big change was that quite a few people here were awake, either those who managed to rise early or those who never went to sleep in the first place, shuffling groggily around in search of drink or food. One of these, a middle aged, balding guy looking a serious part of 'salaryman after a night on the town' stopped shakily close to Outis, his gaze glazing over as much from effects of Presence Concealment as it did because of tiredness and alcohol his breath stink with.
"Huh? Whad d'you wann?" The man slurred, propping himself against the wall for some balance. He must have some
serious chops to notice her while this hammered, but it seemed like Presence Concealment was keeping her from registering as someone too out of place. Not a cape, though, he lacked a title over his head. Nobody had any such marker, really, so mission accomplished.
"Just making the rounds." She murmured before slipping back out. She already had the floor plan committed to memory and there were no doors other than the one she had come in through.
"F'ir enouff." The man nodded before pushing himself away. "'S pretty borrrin' 'nyway. Piss and quiet."
"Cops don't like when you kill." Was all Bitch told Outis once she got in through the underground garage. Her dogs had mutated into massive, lizard-like, four legged beasts of teeth, claws and bone-y plates over their bodies. Even their tongues looked more serpentine. In short, they looked magnificent.
Bitch could've probably used her own advice, the woman was being pretty brutal with that chain of hers. Her dog-beasts, commanded by Bitch's whistling, weren't exactly gentle in their mauling either. It was fairly impressive how the four of them were going through the entire ring of suddenly very much awake, if chaotic and disorganised, white supremacists. At least it didn't look like anyone had a gun on themselves.
"Fuckin' bitch! C'mon boys, Hook is gonna kill us if we let her break another one!" The man who previously spotted Outis, now much more coherent, tried to bring some semblance of order to the gangers, jacket wrapped around one arm, muscular frame flexing as he tried to keep one of the dogs at bay with a baton.
Which was why the Assassin happily introduced his achilles' tendons to her bowie knife. Right when he was playing tug of war with the dog, of course. Noticing a threat was worthless when you couldn't do anything about it. He went down with a cry, even if, to the man's credit, he kept his jacketed arm between himself and the monster-dog.
"Fukcin' Strangers!" Was all he could grunt before he was too preoccupied.
Assassin happily faded back into the chaos, the dogs keeping everyone entirely too busy to notice her even as she gleefully revoked kneecap privileges. They knew there was
someone going around popping off those shoddy joints with satisfying cracks, but damned if they could get a bead on her. Idly, she noticed that Bitch had taken advantage of the bedlam to slip down into the arena and get started on freeing the dogs, going one by one and spending a moment with each before going for the next.
Outis made sure she wouldn't be disturbed, redoubling her efforts to snuff any rallying or potential problem in the cradle by way of generous stabbings. This was fun!
Soon enough, the gangers, actual and suspected, were all moaning pitifully on the floor, some back in the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. Bitch, for her own part, stood by the stairs with a handful of leashes and a new pack of dogs.
"Go grab their wallets, I'll make sure you have peace." She grunted as she directed one of her transformed dogs partially upstairs.
"Much appreciated." Outis said with a jaunty two-finger salute, going to work swiping their cash and snapping all their cards. Just for that extra bit of spite.
"
Un barco una vez quiso navegar, y su nombre era La Tetera del Mar~𝆕."
[
Objective complete!]
[
Rewards: $800, Bond with Bitch increased from 0 to 1.]
At least the notifications from the system were unobtrusive enough. There was a feeling like the system wanted to continue exposition but held back while Bitch offered her assistance in getaway by way of riding one of her spare monster-dogs. She herself rode one with the kind of ease which implied experienced familiarity with the peculiarities of dog riding. The last of her pets served as a way to transport newly liberated dogs, secured to the beast's back with some knotwork utilising their leashes.
Lady (even if she'd probably object to the term) clearly knew what she was doing and ran a tight operation. Outis wouldn't go quite so far as to call her a professional, but she could damn well appreciate a competent woman. Also the fact she'd let her ride one of the big guys, the bone plates felt lovely to the touch, nevermind the sheer sense of power from those huge muscles flexing underneath. They'd probably be all sorts of uncomfortable to straddle for a normal human, but hey, E Rank Endurance, "Say, mind giving me a quick and dirty rundown of the players and turfs around town?"
Bitch kept silent for a moment as they rode through still empty streets up north, before tugging at the 'reins' of her dog so as to come level with Outis. "Met the Empire." She grunted. "Keep to 'good' part of the town, means mostly Downtown. They're nazis and dog-fighters." From her tone of voice, it was clear she thought the latter part was as bad, if not worse, as the former. "The most capes out of everyone, including the gov. North's the Docks. Belongs to Azn Bad Boys. All-Asian gang, red and green. They do all sorts of stuff but will leave you alone if you aren't starting shit. There's my boss, if he actually exists and Tattletale isn't pulling my leg. Protectorate and Wards, government and government junior division."
"Hopefully the eastern boys are drinking enough yakuza juice to be happy to have someone going to their businesses." Outis grumbled. She could go for some yakiudon right now, get some carbs going before her body hit the alarm bells. For now, time to double check rules of engagement. "Alright, so. Softball with Empire to not get dogpiled, play it by the ear with the ABB, kiddie gloves for the Wards else I get hunted down, touch and go with Protectorate but try not to get too much heat. Whitehats willing to get their hands dirty around here, or keeping to the pretty parts of town to keep the rich schmucks sweet?"
She may be theoretically on the side of the angels here, but humans always found a way to squabble over the pettiest shit. So, yeah, she was probably going to rumble with the heroes at some point. Kinda concerning that Bitch hadn't mentioned any non-government hero teams, but they may just be small time enough that she didn't feel like wasting breath. Or a bunch of independents rather than actual teams.
Well, technically Bitch just implied that she had a teammate and a maybe-boss, but that sort of shady man behind the scenes bullshit smacked of villain. Honestly, he could play Gendo all he damn well pleased so long as he didn't make himself a huge nuisance or do something beyond the pale. She had a job to do here, she'd certainly do good on the side because it felt good and sometimes paid, but saving the world came first.
Bitch grunted in her approximation of agreement. "Tattletale likes to say it's like game Cops and Robbers. 'S why no killing each other if you can help it. Even Empire manages that on capes, most of the time." The woman snorted. "Guess
some good comes from Endbringers."
…
Well, all-fucking-right then.
At least the threat she was here for wasn't subtle? Hopefully they wouldn't be Beast bad. She didn't exactly have the luxury of being in a Singularity or Lostbelt that'd all poof away anyways once all was said and done, so collateral was an actual concern. But it sounded like they were being kept at least somewhat in check by all superhumans banding together whenever they showed up, given they were both a known factor and civilization was still kicking.
"Silver linings and all that." Outis huffed, shaking her head clear of those cheery thoughts, "And more reason to be careful with the Empire, they know they're the biggest swinging dick in town and can get away with some rule breaking because nobody wants to call them out and find out. I'll just pace things out and try not to cripple any of their capes, that and me being pasty white should keep the kid gloves on."
"Mhm. The shelter I'm taking those to is a bit into ABB territory. You can tag along and ask about a decent food place." Bitch offered after another moment of silence, giving a glance towards her 'cargo'.
"Sounds like a plan. They the kind to get pissy about whitebread being fluent in chinese?" The Assassin asked with a tilt of her head. In her experience, it was a bunch of brownie points, but she was a white girl in goddamn America now.
Unfortunately, it seemed Bitch's usefulness in that regard ended there, as the woman just gave her a shrug in response. Ah, well, she'd just fuck around and find out.
[
Objective Complete: Obtained the bare biomes of the situation in Brockton Bay (and possibly greater beyond).]
[
Rewards: 1 x Saint Quartz. Basic understanding of power balance of Brockton Bay. Basic understanding of Unwritten Rules. Bitch doesn't seem to mind your presence terribly much.]
Truly, a privileged status.
[Bonds with parahumans offer the following benefits: Access to relevant Class' EXP instances. Access to relevant Class' Skill Gem and Monument instances at higher levels. Raising the bond sufficiently allows the formation of a Party with parahumans which allows them to receive Command Seal (currently unavailable) benefits. Reaching Bond 5 allows for engraving of Parahuman Power upon Blank Cards.]
[Just like any other kind of humans, parahumans increase their bond levels at different rates. Congratulations on forming a positive first bond.]
'Huh, so rivals and nemeses are also tracked? Neat.' Outis projected, all too happy to settle into a comfortable silence with Bitch. Hah, they hadn't even exchanged names. Well, if the woman didn't feel the need she wasn't going to push.
Special thanks to my Patrons: Xanah, Unknown B, Penguino, JoJoDio, Shirou0Emiya and Bowchikabowbow who decided my writing is actually worth paying for.
AN: As one of our mutual Discord friends put it and then dared us to put in the first chapter's note, "We don't know what to write so instead we'll be recreationally injecting ourselves with subcutaneous doses of rotten semen".
As a word of warning/being honest: neither me nor Nihilo has read Worm. We read some fanfics every now and then and have some amount of osmosis knowledge of the setting. We are also aware of Wildbow's... opinions on some of his characters and how their arcs are supposed to happen. Opinions we don't precisely agree with. As such, the Worm side is heavy on fanon, headcanon and 'bullshit I reasoned after a quick wiki dive'.
Y'know, just to make sure you are aware this will turn AU as a result even without our glorious' protagonist's meddling 
Lastly, I now have Patreon, on which this story is two chapters ahead of what I'll be posting publicly on the forums. If you are interested in being two weeks ahead, consider checking it out: https://www.patreon.com/Omida
