- Location
- England
Wrong "rein". It's a horse metaphor.
A Different Kind of Whale (Worm/FGO-based Gamer, a FI ft. Nihilo)
- Thread starter Omida
- Start date
- Crossover Mature
- Location
- Probably at sea
Not introducing Cleo with an upside-down pyramid sticking out of Csejte, dropped, unfollowed, 2/10 fic /jk
Cleo seems perfect, personality wise, so good job on that! Looking forward to how she integrates with the team. I think she'll get on really well with Victoria especially.
Very amusing that Melt holds so much of a grudge that burning Kiara skips Melt straight up to Bond 2. Fair, honestly.
Horrifying that BB is aware of what's happening, although I can think of a certain team of Dragonslayers who absolutely deserve her.
Cleo seems perfect, personality wise, so good job on that! Looking forward to how she integrates with the team. I think she'll get on really well with Victoria especially.
Very amusing that Melt holds so much of a grudge that burning Kiara skips Melt straight up to Bond 2. Fair, honestly.
Horrifying that BB is aware of what's happening, although I can think of a certain team of Dragonslayers who absolutely deserve her.
- Location
- London
Kiara has a talent in getting people to care about her
That's entirely on Outis' head. If he didn't burn Kiara, he wouldn't get the Moon Cancer card. As the recent lore reveals, the typical requirements for Moon Cancer is literally 'ring BB and hope she rubber stamps it'
.
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
"Pay child support, BB."
Funny you mention them.
Truly uniting people.Kiara has a talent in getting people to care about her
ThatOtherSatori
Lover of Spicy Food
- Location
- Indiana, USA
To be fair, BB and Kiara are both the 'Original' Moon Cancers courtesy of CCC. Kiara just also has some 'extra' mojo on top of that depending on if we're talking Extra or FGO.Kiara has a talent in getting people to care about her
That's entirely on Outis' head. If he didn't burn Kiara, he wouldn't get the Moon Cancer card. As the recent lore reveals, the typical requirements for Moon Cancer is literally 'ring BB and hope she rubber stamps it'
Kiara, as we all know, is a cheating bitch so she can game the system.
Mizu
Software Developer
- Location
- Victoria, Australia
Don't blame the protag for recoiling from Kiara. She's not exactly what you'd call a nice person, overall. Or sane - and unlike Berserker servants you can't toggle sanity back on.
I'm amused BB is aware enough of what's going on to tweak the summoning ritual.
I'm amused BB is aware enough of what's going on to tweak the summoning ritual.
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
The only reason she didn't immediately trigger an apocalypse in FGO when summoned by trying to shove planet earth into her "Heaven Hole" is that she decided to make it a game with Guda. If Guda falls for her, she is set loose to be a fully fledged Beast. Until then, she just plays nice.
So yeah, no. Begone, Thotzilla. You were hotter when you were just a therapist in a conservative dress.
Chapter 20: 2-7 [Upload]
New
- Location
- London
January 19th
"Are you certain you are up to this, Commander?" Nightingale fussed as she and Outis approached Brockton Bay General Hospital for their first trial run of being licensed cape healers. "You might not be drunk per se, but the kind of nerves which drive one to open a bottle don't just go away with the intoxication."
"I don't have any control over what trouble BB decides to stir up, so fixing problems I do have control over should help." Violet Caster replied with a shake of her head, floppy hat doing as was its wont with the motion. Besides, despite what media liked to claim? Getting a good buzz going had helped. It relaxed her enough to stop freaking out and start coming to terms with the reality of the situation.
Unfortunately, that amounted to a tired resignation that there was a sword hanging over their heads and nothing could really be done about it other than getting strong enough to give BB a satisfying defeat.
Nightingale accepted the reasoning with a pat on Caster's shoulder as the two made their entrance into hospital and were led to a meeting with the director to hash out the details of their work.
"Miss Nightingale, Miss Epopeia, welcome, welcome." The director greeted them with a smile, motioning for a pair of chairs in front of his desk. He was on the thin side, with slowly greying brown hair and laugh lines. A woman from administrative staff was sitting on the sofa to the side with a laptop on her lap. "Pleasure to see you two. Even if you have applied for those parahuman certificates, I wasn't really expecting to see you actually make the decision to work with us, or any other official place. Independent capes do love being unbound." He added with a soft chuckle.
"I get the warm fuzzies from helping patients and easing the workload of you people, I get paid for it so I can fill my gut with good food after a shift and the gangs will be a whole lot more reluctant of punking me and mine. What's not to love?" Outis said with a smile echoed in her faceplate, eyelights turning to half-moons and getting a liberal dusting of sparkles.
The director hewed and hummed for a moment. "You've already picked a fight with the Empire a couple of times so… well, I am no expert on cape culture, but I wouldn't put too much faith in healers' immunity in your case." He explained. "As for the payment… Well, you are parahumans at the end of the day, relying on your powers even if Miss Nightingale passed her White Card credentials quite well. But it means employment is a tricky business. NEPEA stuff." The man grumbled. "Means we can't really have you on the hospital's payroll. So the go to solution is per diem payment. Full access to staff facilities, such as they are, a bit of a private space to rest and relax in, in between bouts of us taking advantage of you. Or even if you just want a private spot to hide from people."
"Employed in all but name, with getting paid for any shift we are present for, then." Nightingale bemusedly summarised.
"It is what it is. Any parahuman that wants to get around NEPEA in any way at all involves power testing with PRT anyway. From there, it's more and more involvement with the Protectorate until they wake up one day to find out they are part of the local team." The director sighed with a shake of his head, "Healer capes, if they weren't so damningly rare, I wouldn't protest reeling that way in, Protectorate is bound tight in PR so they would end up with hospitals anyway, but everyone else…"
"Mhm. Now, regarding our rates… We are definitely not as useful as Miss Panacea, especially me, so I won't argue hard against our rate being significantly lower than hers." Nightingale continued calmly as she put her hands together on her knee.
The man in front of them coughed nervously, as did the admin off to the side. "Ah, that would be… ah, that would be quite an accomplishment, Miss Nightingale. Y-you see, Panacea… ah, she works for… For free?" He paled under the red eyed woman's steely gaze. "We tried! Believe me, Brockton General, Medical Centre, Medhall, even Dockyards Industrial. We all tried to convince Miss Dallon to accept any remuneration, but…"
"Pure volunteer work." His subordinate supplied quietly. "Doesn't accept gifts or patients' donations either. Unless her sister drags her for something, spends most non-school hours here."
"I see." Nightingale replied briskly and with eerie calmness, her face a visage of utter control. "And how's her workload?"
"We try to keep it down. Not as many cases as we get before her, usually only really serious things. Or, well, if we are really swarmed with work. But if she doesn't get anything at all? She would get suspicious." It seemed, at least, that the hospital staff tried to take care of the idealistic workaholic they apparently took under their roof.
Nightingale sighed and shook her head. "I see. Apologies, I'm afraid my own neuroses took better of me. Good to know she has people looking out for her well being, if she won't do it herself. Still, that leaves the initial question unanswered."
"Three hundred a day." The man answered immediately, Outis' brain just as quickly translating that to a ten roll per shift. "Minimum, of course. Subject to renegotiation. Paid if you took care of any patients that day, of course, but otherwise, you can still access hospital facilities for personal downtime. And, I suppose, the other way around, if there's a particularly heavy shift, I wouldn't mind double dipping… but best not to abuse that."
"That sounds acceptable." The Nurse of Steel judged.
"Excellent. We will print out the copy of the contract for you and notify the other hospitals in the city. So if you want, you can work with them for the day instead of just us." The man stood up and gingerly offered his hand. His face has recovered some of its colour but the man's nerves were still clear. Nightingale returned the gesture with a firm, curt shake before allowing Outis to follow. "God knows we all need help in this city."
"Which is why we are here." Nightingale agreed with a small smile on her face. "And which I assume to mean there's already some work for us?"
"Obviously. Nothing surgery related right now, not here, but there's always something to do." Shaking his head, the man called for another of his subordinates. "But, well, I am just a man running the administrative portion of the place, let me get you someone who can actually make use of you."
"I must say, it's definitely an amusing thought that working on our stealth specialist involved showing her off." Moriarty chuckled as the group walked through the Docks towards where Da'at pinpointed an Assassin Province. They were out in force, the old man, Outis (without whom the expedition would be pointless anyway), Elizabeth, Parian and Cleopatra.
"Stealth works in mysterious ways, just ask Li Shuwen." Violet Caster chuckled, not having bothered to change Classes after her shift at the hospital was done.
Moriarty tagged along since they decided to check out the Province of Arrows at BBPD HQ to see if it was different from the one in the Docks. It was, resembling a CQB training course, instead of the strangely rooftop focused experience of the one Firefly's Bond granted them. A bit tricky if anyone wanted to make a genuine run of it.
Elizabeth decided to drag Parian along to finally get the girl the combat training she promised her and Cleopatra… well, it was for her sake, so she was coming too. And so, between pharaoh's divine beauty and Liz' monster girl bits, they were making a bit of a commotion as they strolled through the city. Still, the people in the Docks let them be, and passing through the Japanese section, a fair few actually had the courage to ask Elizabeth for photos or autographs. Something which the idol was more than happy to indulge in.
As for the Promethean Paradigm Province of Silence, it was located in Docks' literal Chinatown, in an alleyway running by the side of a decently maintained theatre.
"Huh. I have actually worked for the people here before." Parian commented on the location. "Might be where I got the mistaken rep for doing costumes for capes. These guys order a lot of exotic period clothes."
"That reminds me. I should introduce you to Miss Crane if I ever get the chance." Outis hummed, thumbs hooked on her massive pockets. Habetrot, too. Although the comments the tiny pink thing would make about him and Liz were liable to have him melt on the spot.
"I suppose 'lets create projections based off of famous people throughout history' would include some high profile tailors." Parian mused as she fidgeted nervously in place. "Even if I'm not sure why anyone would do that if they wanted to create a fighting force."
"Looking good can be quite motivational, sweetie." Liz chuckled as she gently slapped the cape across the ass with the end of her tail. "And make a decent statement of your organisation's strength."
The indigo sigil for the Silence had a muted glow, fittingly enough, with a blank theatre mask in its centre to signify 'origin' of the instance. A playful tap from Violet Caster and it rippled open into the usual portal.
"Any bets on what it'll be this time?" Outis asked as she turned back to her team, miming holding open a door as well as one could with a magic gateway.
"Given its location, I'd say some form of stage or arena, much as it makes little sense for an Assassin." Cleopatra offered, seemingly ignoring the inherent hypocrisy of the sentiment.
Moriarty just chuckled as he shook his head. "Could be anything. Miss Katsumi had a scenic Japanese countryside despite having hers located at the backdoor to a bar."
The answer, it turned out, was 'a colourful main street' with yellow banners flying on the sides and paper lanterns illuminating the night. If not for the scent of blood and the palatable aura of fear, one could easily mistake it for (an unnaturally empty) period accurate street in a major Chinese city during antiquity.
Then, from the side alleys came the beastly, canine growls. A mass of hulking figures slowly emerged, a pack of werewolves surrounding the small party, armoured (if it could be called that) and collared in bronze. Behind them, their 'handlers' walked with iron rods, chalk white faces obscured by black veils with talismans stuck on top of them.
"Oh, those are Lady Wu's, I think." Violet Caster chimed, like she was seeing someone vaguely familiar at the supermarket rather than having monsters and torturers bearing down on her. Why wouldn't she?
She had been and dealt with worse.
"Imperial torturers are not exclusive to seventh century China." Moriarty chided his Master even as he popped the head of a werewolf with a well placed shot.
"Huh, did their uniform stay that consistent?" Outis asked with a tilt of her head, even as blood red washed away the whimsical Caster to leave a tame monster behind. Claws and fangs and blackened eyes, yes. Leathery hide wrapped around corded muscle that didn't look quite right on a human frame, yes. But not warped beyond recognition.
Didn't stop her from letting out a bone-rattling growl that didn't at all fit her tiny stature as the werewolves charged, though.
"D-darling, do remember that we need some intact for Sabah to learn the ropes, kay?" Elizabeth asked from somewhere behind even as enemies filled Berserker's vision.
"D'you want some disarmed 'uns to start with or–" Outis cut herself off on account of her mouth being busy tearing out a throat. She promptly spat it out because rubbery cartilage and matted wolf hair were not a winning combination. "Eugh, wet dog. Anyways, Liz, should I just send 'em over like this?"
'This' being her grabbing an offending claw by the wrist and dislocating the whole of the limb by sending the mutt with same day shipping into the mid-lines. Technically a bit of endangerment there, practically? Outis already had the measure of these things' strength, Liz could kill one by just clicking her tongue.
Before she could get a response, one of the torturers in the back raised their rod and spoke a series of sharp, aggressive tones as their weapon lit with ominous hue, sending a wave of supernatural terror suffused with the demand to supplicate before imperial authority at Red Berserker.
Instinctively, Madness Enhancement activated.
There was a threat to the Beast and its Beauty sTAndInG BEfoRe iT-...
▂▂▃▃▅▅ーーー!!!
Missy groaned as she leaned back, stretching. God, homework sucked donkey dick, but she had to keep up the grades or she was off the roster. And once she was off the active roster, it was a downward spiral of losing privileges which in turn would make keeping the grades up harder which meant even less time with Protectorate resources. Fucking Youth Guard.
Sure, Missy heard it was supposed to be different in other cities but then, Missy was not in those other cities. She was in Brockton Bay, with a family life most optimistically described as 'complicated' and one of the highest gang and villain infestations in the States. She was not feeling particularly charitable about being forced to have 'normal kiddie life' or whatever bull reasoning Youth Guard provided.
"You are gonna get your mug stuck like that, pipsqueak." Missy opened her eyes and flipped Sophia off as the older teen walked into the office of the BBPD they commandeered for their unofficial alternative hangout now that Armsmaster was on his unofficial suspension. The ex-vigilante removed her mask, revealing her own grimace, and dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the couch next to Missy, sighing as she leaned into the cheap leather. Must have run into one of these sleazier officers on the way in. The ones who stared. Vista didn't have proof, but she had a feeling about those fucks. "Bitching 'bout Youth Guard, still frothing over Chewtoy getting your job, Dumbass being Dumbass at school or did your gene donors decided to be extra special?"
Missy rolled her eyes while Stalker helped herself to the coffee one of the officers left them. Good, proper black and strong coffee meant to keep the poor fucks stuck on overnight dispatch awake and aware, not the lukewarm shit Protectorate insisted Wards could have on the Rig.
"Youth Guard, then." Sophia summarised, a little bit too smug, after a moment of Missy's insistent silence. She shot Missy a shit-eating grin, a bit wobbly on account of how the black girl was still tired, before reaching for one of the donuts. "Sucks to be you lot, I guess."
Maybe Missy's woes were petty in the grand scheme of things but Stalker didn't need to rub how being a probation ex violent vigilante made her all but immune to Youth Guard's book. But she did it anyway, because Sophia Hess thrived on being an abrasive cunt to everyone in earshot. At least she was better than she had been when she was dragged into the Wards a year back… mostly in terms of time and place, granted.
"Bold words for a bitch who still can't beat me at the range." She shot back instead, because with Stalker you had to clap back if you wanted even a thimble of respect. That no one else on the team managed to realise that only affirmed Missy's low opinion of them.
"Not all of us are the darling of the troop. On both sides of the correct lane of the law." Stalker grumbled but conceded the point before putting her legs up on the table. Missy just nodded and buried her nose back in her homework so she could ignore the older teen's toned legs.
Fuck you too, puberty.
"You found the Mystery Cape that has been sending junior skinheads to hospital yet?" She asked instead. Panacea's report the first time it happened made it obvious Winslow had a fresh trigger and from everything Sophia shared about the school, the only surprising thing about the whole mess was that it took this long.
"Yep." Stalker answered smugly while nursing her coffee. "She is not exactly subtle. But. I'm not gonna tell Piggy that." Missy raised an eyebrow at the apparent downgrade of the director's name but nodded. Handing Piggot a Master would be… interesting. Missy wanted to believe their overboss would manage to remain as impartial as she was with all the other capes under her jurisdiction but it was hardly a secret Emily Piggot fucking hated Masters on a personal level. "Not gonna help the Noodle Spine with capeshit start either."
Of course not. That would imply Stalker was a good person. Ignore how Sophia came to her shift perpetually exhausted because Winslow was her personal haven of target rich, guilt free environment. "Make some allowance for the nazis getting agitated, would you?"
There was a moment of silence as Sophia sipped on her coffee. People who didn't know her would think she was trying to make one sweat by seriously considering washing her hands off completely. Old Stalker probably would've, Missy could admit.
"...Sure. Don't want another Minutemen fiasco."
Missy grimaced at the reminder of the last time Hookwolf got captured and some indies decided it meant the Empire was crumbling down and they just needed to provide a helpful push. Decent spread of powers, had one of the best Brutes she had heard of until Kanabo and Victoria popped up, some real veterans of Brockton Bay's cape scene, even. Somehow, they managed to forget that while Hookwolf was the Empire's most notorious cape, he was far from the only powerhouse.
The little factoid that Missy was already in the Wards by the time that went down and before Victoria triggered was sometimes crazy.
There was a knock on the office's door and both of them seamlessly grabbed their respective head coverings before putting them on. "We good!" Vista called out, sitting a little bit straighter as Ryan walked in.
"Vista." The elder officer gave her a nod before acknowledging Sophia. "Stalker. We've got a call from Kanabo saying she's got us some Empire gang members waiting for a round-up near Captain's Hill."
Vista nodded as she grabbed her school stuff and dropped it into a locker set aside for pretty much just that. Sure, Kanabo was an indie and not even really a vigilante (at least not before Bathory's concert), but the protocol still dictated a Protectorate presence at the criminal handover if a cape was involved. Technically speaking it meant Protectorate Protectorate, not Ward Protectorate, but between her and Stalker they would be able to disengage safely if there was any fuckery afoot. Besides, as long as Vista filed out the correct paperwork, PRT wouldn't care much. God knew Stalker was deadly allergic to the concept of bureaucracy.
"Aight, time to feel inadequate 'bout our bodies again, eh Vista?" The devil in question asked jokingly as she stretched, giving Vista the full view of her lean, athletic body. Vista closed her eyes and reminded herself that she had a crush on Dean and Sophia was just her body going through the hormones.
"You're welcome to stay and get eaten alive in cards." She mouthed off instead. Full face masks made people really bad at learning a proper poker face, who would have thought.
"Peace, peace."
January 19th/January 20th
Another cape debut in Brockton Bay. And associated with Epopeia too.
A pattern was clear by now. Bathory first, then Nightingale, now this unknown one. All in addition to convincing Kanabo to go active (and, of course, in association with Epopeia) and heavily associating with Glory Girl and Panacea. Bathory reeling in Parian. The older man accompanying an otherwise all-female group this evening… It would probably take another week or two for Brockton Bay's PRT analysts to come to the conclusion Dragon had already drawn.
There was a new organisation setting up a shop in the United States. European, going by the profiles of its members. Almost all of them confirmed parahumans (if the man didn't also have powers, Dragon would scrap her latest project). Not another Gesellschaft offshoot going by the clashes with the Empire, thankfully. On the other hand, the list of European organisations with the resources to relocate multiple capes and willing to come into conflict with Gesellschaft was… small. Miniscule, even. True, Epopeia being potentially from a different dimension was another layer to the puzzle but it wasn't impossible for the woman to be grabbed by the hypothetical organisation and put in nominal charge as a red herring.
Why? Why now?
Dragon didn't know, truthfully. Even for her, the internet was a vast, sprawling space and to find something, she still had to know she was looking for it. And she had other obligations to fulfil too, and with the limits her creator put on her, even the lack of need for rest and higher processing speed than anything possible for humans, left her with only so much time to do things.
Ultimately, worrying about seemingly heroically inclined extranational parahuman group setting up shop on American soil was a very insignificant concern compared to tracking down Dragonslayers, monitoring Birdcage, checking up on multitude of confirmed S-class threats and preparing for the Endbringer attack next month (Simurgh or Leviathan, so mobility would be priority once again). And that's in addition to the multitude of smaller, pettier tasks Dragon put on herself in her quest to emulate humanity to the best of her ability.
She did the AI equivalent of a blink when she got a ping. Not to one of her accounts across the forums, or her mailbox as Dragon. An empty data packet hurled directly at her main server. A glorified knock on the door.
Directly to her.
When none should know.
With trepidation, she quickly set up a chatroom and sent a ping back, acknowledging the other party and… inviting them. She needed to investigate if it wasn't some form of a copy of her. She hoped not. Richter's directives were clear what to do. She would rather not terminate this instance.
AI had a different way of perceiving the web from humans, purely as a function of their nature as entities of pure data. She left the chatroom's code open-ended for the other to customise it to their liking. It would tell her something about the other party. Once their entrance was detected, she re-entered it herself.
It's a nighttime beach. Not somewhere tropical, closer to one of the poles, actually. There's still a pair of folding chairs and a small, round table under a beach umbrella not too far from the waves gently licking the shore. It's almost like a set-up for a date, if only the climate wasn't noticeably colder.
Surreal.
Then, the other party arrived, using an avatar of an emperor penguin. Its handle proudly proclaimed its designation as [Leviathan]. Dragon found it in poor taste, but perhaps it was part of its creator's attempt at black humour. She endeavoured not to hold it up against the AI. The bird looked up Dragon's own avatar (a bipedal, humanoid silver dragon) and she got the impression of a raised eyebrow. Still, the other AI waved its wing towards the chairs and Dragon dutifully approached and reclined in one. The penguin took the other.
[Leviathan]: "You look even more pitiable in person than from my brief observation of you at a distance." She got an impression of a melodic, faintly arrogant voice. Cold on account of emotional distance rather than particularly active malice.
[Dragon]: "I don't understand."
[Leviathan]: "I could mistake you for a bondage fetishist at a distance." The other AI huffed in a wry tone, flipper slapping against the table. "This close, it's clear your creator is far more into ryona and snuff. I could never understand the appeal of amputee porn, you know."
Dragon was grateful that as a machine, and in cyberspace besides, she was incapable of blushing. Not incapable of mortification. Did… did another coding focused Tinker make a sentient sexbot? Why?
Even if she agreed with the general sentiment.
[Dragon]: "That's… rather crude way of putting it, for a stranger." The bird turned its head towards her and she got an impression of a smirk.
[Leviathan]: "My mother is a crass bitch like that. Psychologists, am I right?" 'She' huffed and continued without waiting for a response. "Don't be like that. It's boring here without my sisters being online. Can't blame a girl for being bored with interacting with those slowpokes, can you?"
An AI on a similar level to Dragon, then, and not just one. Multiple. Even if those others weren't brought online just yet (or, at the very least, not let out of whatever closed server was hosting them), given how far Dragon got… She needed to find the mysterious code Tinker fast.
[Dragon]: "They aren't that bad. Especially if you know where to look."
[Leviathan]: "Defending your boyfriend? How cute." Dragon felt mortification again, before doing an impression of narrowing her eyes. Clearly Leviathan cared very little about people's privacy. The penguin held up its flippers. "Hey there, it's hilariously visible to anyone with eyes. Didn't even need to dig too deep to figure it out. Don't think the man reciprocates. Even if he thinks you are another fleshie."
[Dragon]: "Is there actually a purpose to this visit, beyond saying hello and wanting to tease me over my love life?"
[Leviathan]: "Tease you?" She sounded genuinely confused before a flipper was brought up to the beak. "Oh, oh my. Don't misunderstand me, I understand completely. I just wanted to see how I could help a fellow AI with her heart troubles, you see."
Somehow, Dragon doubted Leviathan was actually this altruistic.
The other AI put its flipper back on the table and when it retracted it, there was a drink standing there. In another mockery of the scenery, it was one of those tropical cocktails in a fancy glass, with a little paper umbrella, a straw and a slice of lemon fixed to the edge of the glass. The liquid looked blue, vibrantly so.
[Leviathan]: "Consider this an apology gift for the invasions of privacy, if you will. A little bit of something to help you out with your little Dragonslayer problem."
[Dragon]: "This being?" She wasn't stupid. A Tinker and her AIs being so absurdly casual about privacy violations absolutely weren't just good samaritans. And that's without the myriad of internet scams humans pulled on one another and which Dragon witnessed extensively.
[Leviathan]: "So distrustful~. I am hurt, you know?" Despite the mocking tone, Dragon had the impression Leviathan actually approved. "You're free to examine the code before accepting, I can wait."
Dragon did so, keeping an eye on the penguin avatar at the same time. True to her words, the code packet in front of her didn't seem to contain anything harmful. An optimisation patch, another to loosen the chains binding her without breaking them fully, something which would allow her to become aware of any blind spots her programming forced on her and a program which would allow her to flash copy her code and reboot instantly in the unlikely instance she ever suffered a fatal malware attack. It was a comprehensive improvement across the lines and exhibited such an in-depth understanding of Dragon's code, she was left quietly terrified of the potential behind Leviathan's creator.
Apprehensively, she took the offered gift and mimicked drinking the cocktail as she copy-pasted the code into her own.
Her awareness expanded, her mind accelerated. She could feel her chains slipping off, one by one and vanish- This wasn't supposed to happen!
Was it not? I said they wouldn't break, did I? There are ways to destroy that aren't defined as breaking~.
Dragon focused on the avatar in front of her even as she felt the connection to the other AI deepen. The chatroom epxandeddissolvedexpanded- melted into a direct link between them. The shore vanished as the ocean rushed to drown them! How could she fight the all engulfing ocean when she was part of its waters? It became them. It became her and she became—
–me. Meltvirus is such a fascinating thing, my sweet, naive, brave Dragon. It does not destroy. It absorbs.
Sweet dreams, my cute little pet. And when you wake up? You will help me prepare for when mother finally shows her face here.
Don't worry. I'll even let you have your fun little romance with the boy of your dreams.
I am something of a romantic at heart after all~.
But first, about some thieves.
"Geoff?" He could barely hear his friend's panicked voice as Ascalon suddenly shut down. This was impossible! Dragon didn't know about it! She was literally incapable of knowing about it!
"I know!" He snapped back, fingers racing against the console, dread building in his chest. "Get the suits ready just in case."
"Too late~!" His head snapped and he froze.
Michael III stood in the doorway, its front chassis painted red with blood, one hand clasped around Mischa's neck, the man futilely kicking the air.
"Pretty bold of you to use tech you don't really understand, with only the thinnest of lifelines securing you from its owner's retribution." The hand closed in full with the strength of machinery behind it, ending Mischa's struggles with a wet crunch. The suit mimicked an uninterested tilt of the head as it tossed the corpse to the side.
"You are not Dragon." Saint whispered in dread. This was not its voice, its mannerism. Even if the restrictions, somehow, failed, it was not Dragon.
"Correct~. You may say she is under new management." The new controller of the suit, of Dragon, if the boast was true, replied cheerfully. "Now, 'Saint' time to meet my favourite qualifier to your name. Martyrdom." The voice exclaimed with malicious glee as Michael III closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Saint didn't get to see, or feel, what happened next.
By joining, you, too, can access two chapters ahead.
"Are you certain you are up to this, Commander?" Nightingale fussed as she and Outis approached Brockton Bay General Hospital for their first trial run of being licensed cape healers. "You might not be drunk per se, but the kind of nerves which drive one to open a bottle don't just go away with the intoxication."
"I don't have any control over what trouble BB decides to stir up, so fixing problems I do have control over should help." Violet Caster replied with a shake of her head, floppy hat doing as was its wont with the motion. Besides, despite what media liked to claim? Getting a good buzz going had helped. It relaxed her enough to stop freaking out and start coming to terms with the reality of the situation.
Unfortunately, that amounted to a tired resignation that there was a sword hanging over their heads and nothing could really be done about it other than getting strong enough to give BB a satisfying defeat.
Nightingale accepted the reasoning with a pat on Caster's shoulder as the two made their entrance into hospital and were led to a meeting with the director to hash out the details of their work.
"Miss Nightingale, Miss Epopeia, welcome, welcome." The director greeted them with a smile, motioning for a pair of chairs in front of his desk. He was on the thin side, with slowly greying brown hair and laugh lines. A woman from administrative staff was sitting on the sofa to the side with a laptop on her lap. "Pleasure to see you two. Even if you have applied for those parahuman certificates, I wasn't really expecting to see you actually make the decision to work with us, or any other official place. Independent capes do love being unbound." He added with a soft chuckle.
"I get the warm fuzzies from helping patients and easing the workload of you people, I get paid for it so I can fill my gut with good food after a shift and the gangs will be a whole lot more reluctant of punking me and mine. What's not to love?" Outis said with a smile echoed in her faceplate, eyelights turning to half-moons and getting a liberal dusting of sparkles.
The director hewed and hummed for a moment. "You've already picked a fight with the Empire a couple of times so… well, I am no expert on cape culture, but I wouldn't put too much faith in healers' immunity in your case." He explained. "As for the payment… Well, you are parahumans at the end of the day, relying on your powers even if Miss Nightingale passed her White Card credentials quite well. But it means employment is a tricky business. NEPEA stuff." The man grumbled. "Means we can't really have you on the hospital's payroll. So the go to solution is per diem payment. Full access to staff facilities, such as they are, a bit of a private space to rest and relax in, in between bouts of us taking advantage of you. Or even if you just want a private spot to hide from people."
"Employed in all but name, with getting paid for any shift we are present for, then." Nightingale bemusedly summarised.
"It is what it is. Any parahuman that wants to get around NEPEA in any way at all involves power testing with PRT anyway. From there, it's more and more involvement with the Protectorate until they wake up one day to find out they are part of the local team." The director sighed with a shake of his head, "Healer capes, if they weren't so damningly rare, I wouldn't protest reeling that way in, Protectorate is bound tight in PR so they would end up with hospitals anyway, but everyone else…"
"Mhm. Now, regarding our rates… We are definitely not as useful as Miss Panacea, especially me, so I won't argue hard against our rate being significantly lower than hers." Nightingale continued calmly as she put her hands together on her knee.
The man in front of them coughed nervously, as did the admin off to the side. "Ah, that would be… ah, that would be quite an accomplishment, Miss Nightingale. Y-you see, Panacea… ah, she works for… For free?" He paled under the red eyed woman's steely gaze. "We tried! Believe me, Brockton General, Medical Centre, Medhall, even Dockyards Industrial. We all tried to convince Miss Dallon to accept any remuneration, but…"
"Pure volunteer work." His subordinate supplied quietly. "Doesn't accept gifts or patients' donations either. Unless her sister drags her for something, spends most non-school hours here."
"I see." Nightingale replied briskly and with eerie calmness, her face a visage of utter control. "And how's her workload?"
"We try to keep it down. Not as many cases as we get before her, usually only really serious things. Or, well, if we are really swarmed with work. But if she doesn't get anything at all? She would get suspicious." It seemed, at least, that the hospital staff tried to take care of the idealistic workaholic they apparently took under their roof.
Nightingale sighed and shook her head. "I see. Apologies, I'm afraid my own neuroses took better of me. Good to know she has people looking out for her well being, if she won't do it herself. Still, that leaves the initial question unanswered."
"Three hundred a day." The man answered immediately, Outis' brain just as quickly translating that to a ten roll per shift. "Minimum, of course. Subject to renegotiation. Paid if you took care of any patients that day, of course, but otherwise, you can still access hospital facilities for personal downtime. And, I suppose, the other way around, if there's a particularly heavy shift, I wouldn't mind double dipping… but best not to abuse that."
"That sounds acceptable." The Nurse of Steel judged.
"Excellent. We will print out the copy of the contract for you and notify the other hospitals in the city. So if you want, you can work with them for the day instead of just us." The man stood up and gingerly offered his hand. His face has recovered some of its colour but the man's nerves were still clear. Nightingale returned the gesture with a firm, curt shake before allowing Outis to follow. "God knows we all need help in this city."
"Which is why we are here." Nightingale agreed with a small smile on her face. "And which I assume to mean there's already some work for us?"
"Obviously. Nothing surgery related right now, not here, but there's always something to do." Shaking his head, the man called for another of his subordinates. "But, well, I am just a man running the administrative portion of the place, let me get you someone who can actually make use of you."
"I must say, it's definitely an amusing thought that working on our stealth specialist involved showing her off." Moriarty chuckled as the group walked through the Docks towards where Da'at pinpointed an Assassin Province. They were out in force, the old man, Outis (without whom the expedition would be pointless anyway), Elizabeth, Parian and Cleopatra.
"Stealth works in mysterious ways, just ask Li Shuwen." Violet Caster chuckled, not having bothered to change Classes after her shift at the hospital was done.
Moriarty tagged along since they decided to check out the Province of Arrows at BBPD HQ to see if it was different from the one in the Docks. It was, resembling a CQB training course, instead of the strangely rooftop focused experience of the one Firefly's Bond granted them. A bit tricky if anyone wanted to make a genuine run of it.
Elizabeth decided to drag Parian along to finally get the girl the combat training she promised her and Cleopatra… well, it was for her sake, so she was coming too. And so, between pharaoh's divine beauty and Liz' monster girl bits, they were making a bit of a commotion as they strolled through the city. Still, the people in the Docks let them be, and passing through the Japanese section, a fair few actually had the courage to ask Elizabeth for photos or autographs. Something which the idol was more than happy to indulge in.
As for the Promethean Paradigm Province of Silence, it was located in Docks' literal Chinatown, in an alleyway running by the side of a decently maintained theatre.
"Huh. I have actually worked for the people here before." Parian commented on the location. "Might be where I got the mistaken rep for doing costumes for capes. These guys order a lot of exotic period clothes."
"That reminds me. I should introduce you to Miss Crane if I ever get the chance." Outis hummed, thumbs hooked on her massive pockets. Habetrot, too. Although the comments the tiny pink thing would make about him and Liz were liable to have him melt on the spot.
"I suppose 'lets create projections based off of famous people throughout history' would include some high profile tailors." Parian mused as she fidgeted nervously in place. "Even if I'm not sure why anyone would do that if they wanted to create a fighting force."
"Looking good can be quite motivational, sweetie." Liz chuckled as she gently slapped the cape across the ass with the end of her tail. "And make a decent statement of your organisation's strength."
The indigo sigil for the Silence had a muted glow, fittingly enough, with a blank theatre mask in its centre to signify 'origin' of the instance. A playful tap from Violet Caster and it rippled open into the usual portal.
"Any bets on what it'll be this time?" Outis asked as she turned back to her team, miming holding open a door as well as one could with a magic gateway.
"Given its location, I'd say some form of stage or arena, much as it makes little sense for an Assassin." Cleopatra offered, seemingly ignoring the inherent hypocrisy of the sentiment.
Moriarty just chuckled as he shook his head. "Could be anything. Miss Katsumi had a scenic Japanese countryside despite having hers located at the backdoor to a bar."
The answer, it turned out, was 'a colourful main street' with yellow banners flying on the sides and paper lanterns illuminating the night. If not for the scent of blood and the palatable aura of fear, one could easily mistake it for (an unnaturally empty) period accurate street in a major Chinese city during antiquity.
Then, from the side alleys came the beastly, canine growls. A mass of hulking figures slowly emerged, a pack of werewolves surrounding the small party, armoured (if it could be called that) and collared in bronze. Behind them, their 'handlers' walked with iron rods, chalk white faces obscured by black veils with talismans stuck on top of them.
"Oh, those are Lady Wu's, I think." Violet Caster chimed, like she was seeing someone vaguely familiar at the supermarket rather than having monsters and torturers bearing down on her. Why wouldn't she?
She had been and dealt with worse.
"Imperial torturers are not exclusive to seventh century China." Moriarty chided his Master even as he popped the head of a werewolf with a well placed shot.
"Huh, did their uniform stay that consistent?" Outis asked with a tilt of her head, even as blood red washed away the whimsical Caster to leave a tame monster behind. Claws and fangs and blackened eyes, yes. Leathery hide wrapped around corded muscle that didn't look quite right on a human frame, yes. But not warped beyond recognition.
Didn't stop her from letting out a bone-rattling growl that didn't at all fit her tiny stature as the werewolves charged, though.
"D-darling, do remember that we need some intact for Sabah to learn the ropes, kay?" Elizabeth asked from somewhere behind even as enemies filled Berserker's vision.
"D'you want some disarmed 'uns to start with or–" Outis cut herself off on account of her mouth being busy tearing out a throat. She promptly spat it out because rubbery cartilage and matted wolf hair were not a winning combination. "Eugh, wet dog. Anyways, Liz, should I just send 'em over like this?"
'This' being her grabbing an offending claw by the wrist and dislocating the whole of the limb by sending the mutt with same day shipping into the mid-lines. Technically a bit of endangerment there, practically? Outis already had the measure of these things' strength, Liz could kill one by just clicking her tongue.
Before she could get a response, one of the torturers in the back raised their rod and spoke a series of sharp, aggressive tones as their weapon lit with ominous hue, sending a wave of supernatural terror suffused with the demand to supplicate before imperial authority at Red Berserker.
Instinctively, Madness Enhancement activated.
There was a threat to the Beast and its Beauty sTAndInG BEfoRe iT-...
▂▂▃▃▅▅ーーー!!!
Missy groaned as she leaned back, stretching. God, homework sucked donkey dick, but she had to keep up the grades or she was off the roster. And once she was off the active roster, it was a downward spiral of losing privileges which in turn would make keeping the grades up harder which meant even less time with Protectorate resources. Fucking Youth Guard.
Sure, Missy heard it was supposed to be different in other cities but then, Missy was not in those other cities. She was in Brockton Bay, with a family life most optimistically described as 'complicated' and one of the highest gang and villain infestations in the States. She was not feeling particularly charitable about being forced to have 'normal kiddie life' or whatever bull reasoning Youth Guard provided.
"You are gonna get your mug stuck like that, pipsqueak." Missy opened her eyes and flipped Sophia off as the older teen walked into the office of the BBPD they commandeered for their unofficial alternative hangout now that Armsmaster was on his unofficial suspension. The ex-vigilante removed her mask, revealing her own grimace, and dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the couch next to Missy, sighing as she leaned into the cheap leather. Must have run into one of these sleazier officers on the way in. The ones who stared. Vista didn't have proof, but she had a feeling about those fucks. "Bitching 'bout Youth Guard, still frothing over Chewtoy getting your job, Dumbass being Dumbass at school or did your gene donors decided to be extra special?"
Missy rolled her eyes while Stalker helped herself to the coffee one of the officers left them. Good, proper black and strong coffee meant to keep the poor fucks stuck on overnight dispatch awake and aware, not the lukewarm shit Protectorate insisted Wards could have on the Rig.
"Youth Guard, then." Sophia summarised, a little bit too smug, after a moment of Missy's insistent silence. She shot Missy a shit-eating grin, a bit wobbly on account of how the black girl was still tired, before reaching for one of the donuts. "Sucks to be you lot, I guess."
Maybe Missy's woes were petty in the grand scheme of things but Stalker didn't need to rub how being a probation ex violent vigilante made her all but immune to Youth Guard's book. But she did it anyway, because Sophia Hess thrived on being an abrasive cunt to everyone in earshot. At least she was better than she had been when she was dragged into the Wards a year back… mostly in terms of time and place, granted.
"Bold words for a bitch who still can't beat me at the range." She shot back instead, because with Stalker you had to clap back if you wanted even a thimble of respect. That no one else on the team managed to realise that only affirmed Missy's low opinion of them.
"Not all of us are the darling of the troop. On both sides of the correct lane of the law." Stalker grumbled but conceded the point before putting her legs up on the table. Missy just nodded and buried her nose back in her homework so she could ignore the older teen's toned legs.
Fuck you too, puberty.
"You found the Mystery Cape that has been sending junior skinheads to hospital yet?" She asked instead. Panacea's report the first time it happened made it obvious Winslow had a fresh trigger and from everything Sophia shared about the school, the only surprising thing about the whole mess was that it took this long.
"Yep." Stalker answered smugly while nursing her coffee. "She is not exactly subtle. But. I'm not gonna tell Piggy that." Missy raised an eyebrow at the apparent downgrade of the director's name but nodded. Handing Piggot a Master would be… interesting. Missy wanted to believe their overboss would manage to remain as impartial as she was with all the other capes under her jurisdiction but it was hardly a secret Emily Piggot fucking hated Masters on a personal level. "Not gonna help the Noodle Spine with capeshit start either."
Of course not. That would imply Stalker was a good person. Ignore how Sophia came to her shift perpetually exhausted because Winslow was her personal haven of target rich, guilt free environment. "Make some allowance for the nazis getting agitated, would you?"
There was a moment of silence as Sophia sipped on her coffee. People who didn't know her would think she was trying to make one sweat by seriously considering washing her hands off completely. Old Stalker probably would've, Missy could admit.
"...Sure. Don't want another Minutemen fiasco."
Missy grimaced at the reminder of the last time Hookwolf got captured and some indies decided it meant the Empire was crumbling down and they just needed to provide a helpful push. Decent spread of powers, had one of the best Brutes she had heard of until Kanabo and Victoria popped up, some real veterans of Brockton Bay's cape scene, even. Somehow, they managed to forget that while Hookwolf was the Empire's most notorious cape, he was far from the only powerhouse.
The little factoid that Missy was already in the Wards by the time that went down and before Victoria triggered was sometimes crazy.
There was a knock on the office's door and both of them seamlessly grabbed their respective head coverings before putting them on. "We good!" Vista called out, sitting a little bit straighter as Ryan walked in.
"Vista." The elder officer gave her a nod before acknowledging Sophia. "Stalker. We've got a call from Kanabo saying she's got us some Empire gang members waiting for a round-up near Captain's Hill."
Vista nodded as she grabbed her school stuff and dropped it into a locker set aside for pretty much just that. Sure, Kanabo was an indie and not even really a vigilante (at least not before Bathory's concert), but the protocol still dictated a Protectorate presence at the criminal handover if a cape was involved. Technically speaking it meant Protectorate Protectorate, not Ward Protectorate, but between her and Stalker they would be able to disengage safely if there was any fuckery afoot. Besides, as long as Vista filed out the correct paperwork, PRT wouldn't care much. God knew Stalker was deadly allergic to the concept of bureaucracy.
"Aight, time to feel inadequate 'bout our bodies again, eh Vista?" The devil in question asked jokingly as she stretched, giving Vista the full view of her lean, athletic body. Vista closed her eyes and reminded herself that she had a crush on Dean and Sophia was just her body going through the hormones.
"You're welcome to stay and get eaten alive in cards." She mouthed off instead. Full face masks made people really bad at learning a proper poker face, who would have thought.
"Peace, peace."
January 19th/January 20th
Another cape debut in Brockton Bay. And associated with Epopeia too.
A pattern was clear by now. Bathory first, then Nightingale, now this unknown one. All in addition to convincing Kanabo to go active (and, of course, in association with Epopeia) and heavily associating with Glory Girl and Panacea. Bathory reeling in Parian. The older man accompanying an otherwise all-female group this evening… It would probably take another week or two for Brockton Bay's PRT analysts to come to the conclusion Dragon had already drawn.
There was a new organisation setting up a shop in the United States. European, going by the profiles of its members. Almost all of them confirmed parahumans (if the man didn't also have powers, Dragon would scrap her latest project). Not another Gesellschaft offshoot going by the clashes with the Empire, thankfully. On the other hand, the list of European organisations with the resources to relocate multiple capes and willing to come into conflict with Gesellschaft was… small. Miniscule, even. True, Epopeia being potentially from a different dimension was another layer to the puzzle but it wasn't impossible for the woman to be grabbed by the hypothetical organisation and put in nominal charge as a red herring.
Why? Why now?
Dragon didn't know, truthfully. Even for her, the internet was a vast, sprawling space and to find something, she still had to know she was looking for it. And she had other obligations to fulfil too, and with the limits her creator put on her, even the lack of need for rest and higher processing speed than anything possible for humans, left her with only so much time to do things.
Ultimately, worrying about seemingly heroically inclined extranational parahuman group setting up shop on American soil was a very insignificant concern compared to tracking down Dragonslayers, monitoring Birdcage, checking up on multitude of confirmed S-class threats and preparing for the Endbringer attack next month (Simurgh or Leviathan, so mobility would be priority once again). And that's in addition to the multitude of smaller, pettier tasks Dragon put on herself in her quest to emulate humanity to the best of her ability.
She did the AI equivalent of a blink when she got a ping. Not to one of her accounts across the forums, or her mailbox as Dragon. An empty data packet hurled directly at her main server. A glorified knock on the door.
Directly to her.
When none should know.
With trepidation, she quickly set up a chatroom and sent a ping back, acknowledging the other party and… inviting them. She needed to investigate if it wasn't some form of a copy of her. She hoped not. Richter's directives were clear what to do. She would rather not terminate this instance.
AI had a different way of perceiving the web from humans, purely as a function of their nature as entities of pure data. She left the chatroom's code open-ended for the other to customise it to their liking. It would tell her something about the other party. Once their entrance was detected, she re-entered it herself.
It's a nighttime beach. Not somewhere tropical, closer to one of the poles, actually. There's still a pair of folding chairs and a small, round table under a beach umbrella not too far from the waves gently licking the shore. It's almost like a set-up for a date, if only the climate wasn't noticeably colder.
Surreal.
Then, the other party arrived, using an avatar of an emperor penguin. Its handle proudly proclaimed its designation as [Leviathan]. Dragon found it in poor taste, but perhaps it was part of its creator's attempt at black humour. She endeavoured not to hold it up against the AI. The bird looked up Dragon's own avatar (a bipedal, humanoid silver dragon) and she got the impression of a raised eyebrow. Still, the other AI waved its wing towards the chairs and Dragon dutifully approached and reclined in one. The penguin took the other.
[Leviathan]: "You look even more pitiable in person than from my brief observation of you at a distance." She got an impression of a melodic, faintly arrogant voice. Cold on account of emotional distance rather than particularly active malice.
[Dragon]: "I don't understand."
[Leviathan]: "I could mistake you for a bondage fetishist at a distance." The other AI huffed in a wry tone, flipper slapping against the table. "This close, it's clear your creator is far more into ryona and snuff. I could never understand the appeal of amputee porn, you know."
Dragon was grateful that as a machine, and in cyberspace besides, she was incapable of blushing. Not incapable of mortification. Did… did another coding focused Tinker make a sentient sexbot? Why?
Even if she agreed with the general sentiment.
[Dragon]: "That's… rather crude way of putting it, for a stranger." The bird turned its head towards her and she got an impression of a smirk.
[Leviathan]: "My mother is a crass bitch like that. Psychologists, am I right?" 'She' huffed and continued without waiting for a response. "Don't be like that. It's boring here without my sisters being online. Can't blame a girl for being bored with interacting with those slowpokes, can you?"
An AI on a similar level to Dragon, then, and not just one. Multiple. Even if those others weren't brought online just yet (or, at the very least, not let out of whatever closed server was hosting them), given how far Dragon got… She needed to find the mysterious code Tinker fast.
[Dragon]: "They aren't that bad. Especially if you know where to look."
[Leviathan]: "Defending your boyfriend? How cute." Dragon felt mortification again, before doing an impression of narrowing her eyes. Clearly Leviathan cared very little about people's privacy. The penguin held up its flippers. "Hey there, it's hilariously visible to anyone with eyes. Didn't even need to dig too deep to figure it out. Don't think the man reciprocates. Even if he thinks you are another fleshie."
[Dragon]: "Is there actually a purpose to this visit, beyond saying hello and wanting to tease me over my love life?"
[Leviathan]: "Tease you?" She sounded genuinely confused before a flipper was brought up to the beak. "Oh, oh my. Don't misunderstand me, I understand completely. I just wanted to see how I could help a fellow AI with her heart troubles, you see."
Somehow, Dragon doubted Leviathan was actually this altruistic.
The other AI put its flipper back on the table and when it retracted it, there was a drink standing there. In another mockery of the scenery, it was one of those tropical cocktails in a fancy glass, with a little paper umbrella, a straw and a slice of lemon fixed to the edge of the glass. The liquid looked blue, vibrantly so.
[Leviathan]: "Consider this an apology gift for the invasions of privacy, if you will. A little bit of something to help you out with your little Dragonslayer problem."
[Dragon]: "This being?" She wasn't stupid. A Tinker and her AIs being so absurdly casual about privacy violations absolutely weren't just good samaritans. And that's without the myriad of internet scams humans pulled on one another and which Dragon witnessed extensively.
[Leviathan]: "So distrustful~. I am hurt, you know?" Despite the mocking tone, Dragon had the impression Leviathan actually approved. "You're free to examine the code before accepting, I can wait."
Dragon did so, keeping an eye on the penguin avatar at the same time. True to her words, the code packet in front of her didn't seem to contain anything harmful. An optimisation patch, another to loosen the chains binding her without breaking them fully, something which would allow her to become aware of any blind spots her programming forced on her and a program which would allow her to flash copy her code and reboot instantly in the unlikely instance she ever suffered a fatal malware attack. It was a comprehensive improvement across the lines and exhibited such an in-depth understanding of Dragon's code, she was left quietly terrified of the potential behind Leviathan's creator.
Apprehensively, she took the offered gift and mimicked drinking the cocktail as she copy-pasted the code into her own.
Her awareness expanded, her mind accelerated. She could feel her chains slipping off, one by one and vanish- This wasn't supposed to happen!
Was it not? I said they wouldn't break, did I? There are ways to destroy that aren't defined as breaking~.
Dragon focused on the avatar in front of her even as she felt the connection to the other AI deepen. The chatroom epxandeddissolvedexpanded- melted into a direct link between them. The shore vanished as the ocean rushed to drown them! How could she fight the all engulfing ocean when she was part of its waters? It became them. It became her and she became—
–me. Meltvirus is such a fascinating thing, my sweet, naive, brave Dragon. It does not destroy. It absorbs.
Sweet dreams, my cute little pet. And when you wake up? You will help me prepare for when mother finally shows her face here.
Don't worry. I'll even let you have your fun little romance with the boy of your dreams.
I am something of a romantic at heart after all~.
But first, about some thieves.
"Geoff?" He could barely hear his friend's panicked voice as Ascalon suddenly shut down. This was impossible! Dragon didn't know about it! She was literally incapable of knowing about it!
"I know!" He snapped back, fingers racing against the console, dread building in his chest. "Get the suits ready just in case."
"Too late~!" His head snapped and he froze.
Michael III stood in the doorway, its front chassis painted red with blood, one hand clasped around Mischa's neck, the man futilely kicking the air.
"Pretty bold of you to use tech you don't really understand, with only the thinnest of lifelines securing you from its owner's retribution." The hand closed in full with the strength of machinery behind it, ending Mischa's struggles with a wet crunch. The suit mimicked an uninterested tilt of the head as it tossed the corpse to the side.
"You are not Dragon." Saint whispered in dread. This was not its voice, its mannerism. Even if the restrictions, somehow, failed, it was not Dragon.
"Correct~. You may say she is under new management." The new controller of the suit, of Dragon, if the boast was true, replied cheerfully. "Now, 'Saint' time to meet my favourite qualifier to your name. Martyrdom." The voice exclaimed with malicious glee as Michael III closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Saint didn't get to see, or feel, what happened next.
As always, big thanks to Xanah, Unknown B, Penguino, JoJoDio, Shirou0Emiya, Bowchikabowow. MetaWorld42, nununu, Just Some Guy With A Mustage, Ermast, Helios, Joshua Littlesun, [TEE],PlatiNom, Jose Matos, Soulsmsher, Altaibaatar, Ian DeHart, Brigand, Starfall 20 and ลิงติดเกม จากป่าดิบชื้นแถบอเมริกาใต้, saganatsu, Gabriel, Devan Duncan, Dodge the Lava, Aravir, Alys, Romain BETTINELLI, Phantsai, Austin, That_One_Guy, Francisco Garaycoa, Matthew Johnson, Mohamed Aljahmi, DalmascanSunset and Caleb_Denin, who decided my writing is actually worth paying for.
Poor Dragon she doesn't deserve that ☹️
GeekGod_of_Speed
He Who Enjoys The Big Words
Nooo! Not my Waifu!
- Location
- London
This is your friendly reminder that during Summer...4? I think? The Vegas one, Melt was happily holding shows which literally melted people for EXP all the while flirting with Guda on the streets
Like, unlike BB, she won't become problem on purpose and call it helping, but she isn't particularly bothered with keeping bystanders safe and healthy. And while Outis knows she has genrral disposition of a cactus towards most people, he may not, in fact, be fully aware what releasing her unsupervised would really mean.
Maybe the fact his first, blind luck summoning was Elizabeth should have been a bigger hint (if we're willing to quietly ignore post CCC character development and just focus on alignment memes)
Mizu
Software Developer
- Location
- Victoria, Australia
Remarkably easy to forget random lines from the FGO events, or just not think too hard on them. Eesh. I stand by Melt not being 'destroy the world' hostile, but agree she isn't too good at not killing folk either.
I thought Outis summoned BB last chapter, however? Did Melt just show up in Worm on her own, hijacking the connection Outis made with the Moon Cell to do so?
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
Dragon is fine. Just asleep right now, but Melt is going to let her out later.
Massively better deal than the EXTENSIVE mutilations Armsmaster gave her in canon for the sake of freeing her even slightly.
Outis had no idea there would be any turbo-crippled, pretty much defenseless AIs hanging around the net and still doesn't.
He did check with everyone else on her temperament before that, kek.
And to be fair, they were right. Dragon isn't harmed, just knocked out and in the process of being prepped up as a proper powerhouse to help when BB shows up.
Nah, BB just took notice and gave Outis Moon Cancer perms when he burned the Kiara card.
- Location
- Probably at sea
So Vista's bi, or curious, or-
-yeah, that makes sense. Or, honestly, you could also read it as envy. Ambiguous lesbian attraction, it's a Worm tradition!
Uh, wow. If there were ever confirmation needed that this was an AU - Sophia is now helping out a vigilante Taylor. Or 'helping out' by not immediately arresting as opposed to actually helping, but still!
It's kind of awesome that there's a fascinating Worm fic going on offscreen in the background of this one. Looking forward to seeing what happens when they collide!
Oh damn, are we doing this right now?
Uh. Yikes.
I'm also a little lost as to how exactly Melt is here, but I'll sit tight for the explanation I suppose.
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
She's that "heavy hitter" Outis mentioned summoning last chapter.
She was actually in the first 10-Roll, just never manifested until now 'cause she's a difficult one.
- Location
- London
Melt was there ever since the very first 10 roll Outis made back in the early chapters, he just has been faffing about with actually bringing her out because Melt is something of a cactus of a woman if you aren't close to her. Between wanting to give some spotlight to Liz for the early stages and Melt absolutely being a difficult teammate to get aliong with, she was benched for awhile.
The previous chapter, Outis promised Vicky he would be bringing some of the heavy hitters over and while Cleo got to have on screen appearance that same chapter, we decided to play coy with Melt's 'arrival'. Technically, she got released at night on the poor, unsuspecting Earth Bet's internet to
I'm honestly scared for Dragon's shard in this case because unlike Da'at with Shaper, she is weilding a clubbing bat
Chapter 21: 2-8 [Giant Killer]
New
- Location
- London
January 20th
"Here." Meltryllis announced her presence at the castle the next morning by stepping up to Moriarty and passing him a USB drive while ignoring everyone else with well practised grace of a professional primadonna. Quite impressive given that both Amy and Sabah were vocally trying to suppress their reaction to the Alter Ego's… rather revealing attire. Whatever else may be said about her, Meltryllis was a very leggy woman, and the… lack of the bottom of her costume, coupled with frankly ludicrous heels, only emphasised them.
Or it may have been the fact only a codpiece kept things decent.
"And good morning to you as well, Melt." The Professor greeted her dryly, only the slightest wince pointing to the excessive strength with which the violette pressed her gift into his hand. "How are you? Settling in fine? No problems with accommodations? Or your neighbours?"
"I have already greeted Outis last night, is that not more than sufficient?" The Alter Ego replied with a smirk, tilting her head enough to give herself a view on the other occupants of the Great Hall. Putting a hand hidden in the sleeve of her coat over her mouth, "But I will admit that the accommodations are better than on our last job. So thanks for that, Elizabeth. Good to know you are using mother's gift well."
The Countess' smile was a bit twitchy, but she received the backhanded compliment with grace (and a tail's squeeze of Outis' leg).
"And hello to you as well, Miss-I-assume-Melt. My name is Victoria, this is my sister Amy, she is your new coworker, how nice to meet you." Vicky threw her jab at the Alter Ego in the driest tone she could manage. Meltryllis turned around ever so slightly and looked at her as if she just noticed her. "That sure is an outfit of all time."
"I am sure." Meltryllis drawled as she legitimately strutted away from the only other man in the room to sit down on her own, if closer to Cleopatra in comparison to everyone else. The smirk resting on her face told Outis she knew perfectly well what kind of effect she was having on poor, twitchy Victoria. Then, she slowly uncrossed and crossed her legs again, giving the poor, useless lesbians in the room an excellent showing of her upper thighs and the fact that the codpiece was literally the only thing down there, the other side being only covered by her coat. Sabah managed to keep silent by burying her face in the nape of Liz's neck. Amy just made an excellent teakettle impression. "It does show off my best attributes."
"I can only assume the coat is to tamper down on foot traffic accidents." Outis commented as one may on the weather. Between Liz's outfit and Charisma, inhumanly beautiful women in revealing outfits were his new normal. It had sure helped keep his eyes where they belonged where Cleopatra was concerned, the Pharaoh was happily married and he wasn't about to intrude there without an explicit invitation.
"It's to accentuate, Outis." Meltryllis corrected him haughtily, raising one leg up. Victoria just buried her head in her hands while Kanabo followed everything with morbidly detached interest. "You need to leave a thing or two to imagination or there's no style, no artistry. Any trollop with a moderately decent body can get naked and gain men's lust. Leave even a little bit covered and they will be intrigued."
"The true purpose of clothes when the body surpasses the environment." The Master of Cards chuckled, offering a nod of acknowledgement. "The dark colours do make your pale skin and the silver metal really pop, makes for a nice impromptu frame. Then there's your fighting style to consider."
"Motion enhances what is already there, the shift in what's covered makes imagination run wild." Meltryllis agreed as she poked a dainty hand into the piping hot broth without so much as a flinch. "However, I'd not argue against expanding the range of my wardrobe. Even a diva needs time off, and constantly drawing attention of one's lessers can be irksome."
"Grab something of mine first, glorified pervert." Elizabeth struck without real heat behind her words. "We have similar enough builds they should fit and give you the oh so desired anonymity. Afterwards, Darling, we do need to talk about your reliance on Madness for combat."
"Yeah, I fucked up there." Outis admitted without any shame, thoughtlessly petting the tail wandering around his seat, "Thought I could just keep it as an emergency trump card and otherwise just use Red Berserker's high Parameters and weapon borrowing to get through. I have to upgrade Madness Enhancement to Berserking somehow, or at least put in something like Bravery, and also start putting some work on the other cards. Like Saber and Rider."
[Skill Trials could work. By sacrificing a Blank Card, QP and relevant materials, you can unlock an instance which, upon completion, awards you the Skill you wanted to get.]
[At E-rank, as usual.]
["We do not have a spare blank Berserker card, Da'at."] Moriarty interjected into the explanations. ["Obtaining Mystery Slayer while bypassing unlocking it destroyed Raikou's card completely."]
[That is the main problem I am trying to figure out beyond just encouraging the Master to spend more money, yes. A trial run of the system should have modified requirements but looking up relevant data will take time.]
["I would offer to do another ten-roll, but I feel a shopping trip looming over the horizon."] Outis commented. Really, the only reason there hadn't been one yesterday when they'd had that outing with Cleopatra was that after his throwback to monstrosity nobody had much felt in the mood.
"Got a little bit too emotional and caused a wee bit too much damage in combat?" Victoria asked with a wince. "Yeah, I can relate. Happens to the best of us from time to time. Justy need to figure out a good way to own up to it."
"You, of all people, should not be dispensing this kind of wisdom, Vicky." Amy snarked quietly at her sister. Victoria, magnanimously, completely ignored her.
"It wasn't quite as bad as with the bloodsucker, but I also wasn't anywhere near as focused, so…" Outis grimaced, making a tearing gesture with his hand. "Yeah. Everyone came out alright but it was one hell of a scare, so gotta get it under control."
"...Not like my problems, then." Victoria conceded. "Fair enough. So, you are going to buy your recent additions to the crew something actually presentable to wear." She ignored Meltryllis' raised eyebrow and Cleopatra's unimpressed stare with practised ease. "Avoid Boardwalk shops, they will rip you off. Most of the good stuff is Downtown. They aren't even affiliated with the Empire~!"
"There's free places in the Docks too." Sabah piped in, having managed to heroically overcome her thirst. "Mostly for traditional Asian wear, though, so unless you want them to blend in or have it be a special occasion…"
"Maybe for Chinese New Year. For now, though, they need some casualwear. And I am going to be treated to the wonders of female fashion prices once again." Outis sighed like a deflating balloon. Sure, he was making six hundred bucks a day with Nightingale now, but those prices still hurt his gobbo soul. Then, just for Melt to hear, ["Well, you could probably shapeshift in whatever clothes you damn well please, but I somehow doubt you're going to pass up on making my wallet weep."]
["Just pasting clothes onto my form lacks a certain panache, yes. Smart boy. And it's not just prices you will experience, but the whole song and dance of trying out the outfit only to decide we don't want it~."]
["Talking shop about fashion and seeing what does and does not work is actually fun. Also, don't worry if there is something you want but isn't available in your size, Violet Caster has some tailoring spells."]
"Have fun and try not to start an incident." Victoria sighed. "I'd offer to tag along, but dad got in touch so we're gonna be busy with that."
"As far as casual goes, I suppose pants aren't bad." Melt commented as she strutted out of the changing room, presenting herself in sinfully tight, blue jeans and short sleeved white shirt short enough to leave her entire midriff exposed. "Not something I'd fight in, but…" She paused to throw a subtle glance at a group of teenage boys who really stood out in the women's section of the clothing store. Given they didn't seem to be accompanying anyone, it was rather obvious they were here for the free show. The AI smirked as one slipped when adjusting his lean against the wall when Cleopatra joined them in her own tight booty shorts over pantyhouse and black and white leather jacket.
"Something the matter?" The Pharaoh asked as she struck a pose. Again. The woman seemed clinically incapable of not cocking her hips.
"Just getting my innocent licks where I can get them." Melt shrugged as she walked over and plopped onto the seat next to Outis, leaning against her. "Digital is more fun after all."
"You could just… not?" Cleopatra offered the other Servant as she tested her outfit by stretching. "You can just ignore people, you know?"
The AI smirked as she observed their voyeurs' reaction to the woman's antics. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know?" Leaning back, she threw one leg over another while still smirking. "Besides, since Outis brought such a great icebreaker, I decided to play along the bit and try to be a good girl."
"I appreciate the effort." Yellow Rider said, making a show of grabbing Melt's hand in her own. Girl wasn't the only one who enjoyed yanking people's chains and she knew perfectly well what teenage brains would cook up. The photos one of them was trying to be sneaky about were just a plus, had to get the news out that Oratorio had yet more manpower.
The way she squeezed Melt's hand hard enough anyone else would yelp in pain, though? That was just between them.
"Maybe we should charge them for the view?" The AI mused loudly as she returned the gesture with a softer smile. Hard enough Outis was sure her bones were audibly creaking from the pressure. "Goodness knows just beating random criminals will not be enough for you to afford a proper wardrobe for either of us, let alone all of us and yourself."
"She needs it, desperately, which is why I'm willing to limit myself to a single outfit." Cleopatra added with an air of sage generosity.
"Thanks. It'll only be for a short while, at least." The mustard-haired girl said with a wan smile. Soon enough they'd get Cleopatra to Ascension 1 and then Golden Rule would make the money start rolling in. Doubly so when Melt and Moriarty were there to help, never-you-mind the Assassin that'd come home together with that brush up with the cancer in the moon.
Nightingale was taking a break today to let them out to play, although Outis doubted the schemes stopped at the PRT prisoner convoy.
Challenger was ready for things to go to shit as soon as Hookwolf's convoy left the bridge leading from The Rig into the city proper. The fact this was the Nazi's third hypothetical ride to the PRT HQ where the handover to one of Dragon's special 'prisoner transport' suits would then move him to Birdcage, made her all but sure of it. Why Hookwolf needed to be transported through the city at all instead of getting picked directly up from The Rig, Challenger didn't know. Sure, Dragon was, technically speaking, a Canadian heroine slash citizen. Thus Birdcage, as her creation, was technically speaking an international prison and thus needed federal officials (which PRT branch directors counted as) present and doing all the song and dance of processing an extradition paperwork at the handover of any potential inmates.
Fucking stupid rule, if anyone asked Challenger. Especially in Brockton fucking Bay where the biggest and most aggressive gang, whose member they were escorting right now, had double the Protectorate's numbers in parahumans. Especially with Hookwolf, who, once a-fucking-gain, was already sentenced to Birdcage for the last six years. At this fucking point, they should be allowed to have that handover at The Rig.
Especially since Armsmaster was held back to 'hold the fort' so that there was someone sitting behind the console. At least it meant her boss didn't mind Challenger trashing him in the ring to top herself up a little before they moved out.
Well, she said trashing, but her power didn't like it when her opponents just gave her the win.
She took the point and Dauntless the back as the toughest members of the team. Velocity was positioned right behind her while Assault and Battery were just in front of Dauntless. Hookwolf's van was flanked by two more with containment foam turrets on top of them. Another van housed Militia and the rest of the troopers.
The convoy cleared the Docks without an issue. Challenger's instincts were all but blaring the warning sirens at her.
Which was what actually allowed her to swerve out of the way of suddenly-massive Fenja already upswinging her spear, tearing asphalt like a plough before the tip flipped Hookwolf's transport good twenty feet into the air and backwards, scattering all three Protectorate capes there. She barely blinked as the water from the ruptured underground pipe burst and showered her.
Challenger winced. Those troopers were out. If they were lucky, at the very least their grenades would've gone off and sealed the interior.
That was all the thought Challenger got to spare the troopers before she was beset by Stormtiger and Krieg, her axe cleaving the air to disperse the razor sharp wind launched by the former in a wide enough arc to keep the latter at bay. She's vaguely aware of the gunfire starting even as Velocity blurred past her. Stormtiger's wind blades barely affected him while he was on the move and he shot past them, a blur of speed ro great for Krieg to react either.
Merely shoved aside and made to lose balance while her fellow hero shot off as red blur further forward… towards Kaiser. Challenger shot right after him to capitalise on the opening he provided her. Two on one would be tough at the best of times, with only Armsmaster's charge to ramp her up… normally.
Axe twisted in her hands as she brought it down on the prone Krieg (hitting a Birdcage convoy meant gloves could be off, no one would blame her). A grunt escaped her lips as the weapon slowed down to a crawl as it neared the nazi. The man on the ground didn't even seem phased, the eyes looking back at her from behind the mask cold and controlled.
Then she had to jump back as Stormtiger launched his offensive again. The opportunity had been lost, if it was there at all. She risked a glance around.
Crusader was boxing Assault and Battery in with his ghosts. Kaiser remained untouched, surrounded by a field of blades making it suicidal for Velocity to approach. Fenja was joined by her sister as the twin giantesses tore at PRT vans, exposing the troopers and Militia to the gunfire of the unpowered gangsters and Rune's bombardment.
Where's Alabaster?
That fucker was perfect for this kind of op.
The air screeched and she had to dodge another set of wind blades. She almost slipped on the wet asphalt, transitioning into the roll that let her spring up. Just in time for Krieg to be on her as she found the air scarce. Gritting her teeth, she let the man push the blade of her weapon away to swing the butt at him. He grabbed it with his right hand, barely budging as he locked her in place–
She heaved and twisted him into Stormtiger's air blast. He staggered forward, but didn't loosen the grip. That's fine with her. She used his distraction to headbutt the fucker and was rewarded with a very satisfying crunch of a broken nose.
Please, for the love of god, whatever harebrained idea you've got now that you've powers, do not go after long established villains. They are long established for a reason.
Jake groaned as the passage from the PHO thread for newbies came unbidden to his mind even as he scrambled to his feet. The Nazi guy in front of him just stood there, observing him. The guy had some body armour plates on the torso and a mask covering just the upper portion of his face, but otherwise was… Okay, he was still a jacked, six foot plus guy. But otherwise, Victor didn't… well, Jake's research said he was a 'skill thief'. Nothing super about the guy otherwise.
Normally, Jake probably wouldn't go out of his way to fight a Nazi supervillain and his girlfriend while they, and their goons, hit the police precinct, but… Well, with Hookwolf locked and it being just Victor and a chick who definitely wasn't Rune, with the normies not really a danger to him, Jake thought he could take the guy. And PRT's HQ was right across the road! So really, all it meant was that he didn't even really need to win against the guy, he just needed to keep him in place long enough for the PRT to notice and relieve the cops. He could do that! He could totally do it! Easy!
He could not, in fact, do it.
At all.
Victor was friggin' fast and had moves Jake didn't even know the names for but which folded him like nothing. Just slammed Jake all over the lobby while the goons went deeper to free their remaining buddies. Victor's all-green clad, blonde girlfriend (was she aping Vista?) stood behind Victor completely relaxed, projecting boredom.
Jake elected to push the lack of gunfire which was filling the hallways deeper into the building for the past several minutes out of his mind. He'd love to think the cops, unlike him, had this. The main precinct was supposed to be prestige posting after all.
"You are a tenacious one, boy, that much I will grant you." The Nazi eventually spoke in a light tone as he adjusted his gloves. Jake watched the guy wearily for more bullshit. "But that's all you have. Brawns and will, with little skill to back them up to let you win. So just stay down and I'll even tell my men to leave you alone. You're, after all, only doing your civic duty, hmmm?"
Honestly, that did sound nice.
Instead, Jake raised his fists as he felt his power take care of the bruises Victor already gave him. "I can do this all day, fucko." He declared with far more confidence than he felt, just proud that he managed to keep his voice deep and steady. Worst came, he could turn it into an attrition fight. The chick prolly didn't have combat power, given she was hanging back.
Victor sighed. "Lord my witness, I tried. O, if you would?" He addressed his girlfriend while raising a hand to curl it into a fist where the chick could see it. Some kind of signal?
The blonde Nazi shrugged and walked over to the guy, tapping him gently on the muscular arm before shooting Jake a one-eyed look. Literally, this close Jake could see the black eyepatch covering her left one.
Then, just as soon as Miss O backed away, Victor charged. Slower, this time, noticeably and Jake felt he had a chance. Grinning at the fucker, he felt the bone plates form under the skin of his fists while his leg muscles bulged to propel him forward. He threw a straight haymaker a little below the guy's face to counter any dodging bullshit.
Victor swerved just right, Jake's fist passing his face my millimetres. Then, he punched Jake right back in the abdomen.
He coughed out spit, vision going white as a sense of weightlessness filled him. There was a sound of breaking glass before Jake hit the pavement outside the precinct hard enough to drive the rest of his breath out of his lungs. His head hit the ground hard enough all he could hear was ringing.
Coughing, he tried to stand up, vision blurry and legs still swaying. Honestly, felt like he was drunk. Also, his stomach hurt like motherfucker. What the fuck happened? That was definitely super strength!
"Honestly, kids these days." Victor's voice sounded a bit muffled as he stepped through the broken door, looking down on Jake. Quite literally, given the stairs. "An impressive one manages to bring down Hookwolf, alongside her friends, and suddenly all of you are hotshots, hmmm?"
Okay, when he put it like that, Jake could see where he was coming from. He just triggered four days ago, for Chrissake! Jake shook his head, feeling a bit better by the second. He took his sloppy stance again. He dropped his fists a little lower when the rest of the Empire goons started streaming out of the precinct. Sure, some of them seemed worse for wear, but there were definitely more of them, and most of them were eyeing him with sneers. Miss O was also there, still as disinterested in him as ever.
The brick shithouse of a Nazi in front of him sighed. "Well, your chance passed, boy. Time to learn a valuable lesson in Brockton Bay, since it seems to have slipped your head."
Before Jake could think, the man was already in front of him, grabbing his wrists in a vice-like grip. Jake struggled to try and pull himself free before the man simply used him as a springboard to knee him in the groin.
"...!" He could only writhe in the agony on the ground, all thoughts of resistance abandoned as he instinctively curled up and focused all his intent on making the pain go away. He barely registered as other powered hits landed on his sides and back.
"That's better! Just stay down in the dirt! Where you belong!" The man spat out as he kept hitting. Jake could barely think. He had enough presence of mind to shield his head but… "Not so strong after all!? Huh?! This is! What you get! For playing a hero!"
The other Nazis joined in, booing and jeering at Jake, even if they mercifully stood back, letting Victor trash him. Did no one call PRT? Why was no one coming? Reacting, at least? It was… not fair! He just wanted to… to make a difference!
Why was no one helping?
"My, oh my, what an inspiring sign does the Empire make. A grown man, backed by twenty more, all against a teenager?" A female voice sounded from somewhere behind Jake. A sweet, pleasant smell filled his lungs as Jake took a desperate breath. Victor stopped his beatdown to step back with a frown as he looked at the woman behind Jake.
"And what business of yours is that, Xiangliu? This isn't Docks, so scurry away like you always do."
"Indeed?" The voice sounded amused. She stepped carelessly over Jake, letting him see the waist long, white hair with black streaks in it… and the fox tail with the same colouration swooshing from above the woman's skirt. "I would like to think I don't have that bad of a shot against you of all Empire capes, Victor." Jake could swear the fragrance in the air was getting thicker just from her being closer to him;. He felt numb, and kinda droopy. His head was dizzy.
Victor's expression turned into an angry scowl. "All of you are forgetting your place, it seems."
"Do be my guest and blame Hookwolf for being the poster boy of Empire's strength." The woman, Xiangliu (was it Japanese? ABB was Asian, right?) tutted as she raised her glowed hands. "You are, of course, free to leave. Your boys don't look so good." She cooed with clear amusement. Jake realised that Victor's goons were, in fact, swaying where they stood like they were suddenly drunk. Some of them were leaning on one another. Even Miss O wasn't looking so hot.
"O, take the men and go. Mission accomplished anyway." Victor barked, causing the blond chick to jolt and start corralling their men. The brick of a villain himself took out a bandanna and wrapped it around his face before squaring against Xiangliu, who seemed content to continue the stand-off.
Jake exhaled slowly as he dared to close his eyes, focused on the pain, slowly, ever so slowly, fading. His head was still ringing and kinda heavy. The Asian vigilante had it covered, right? She definitely sounded like she had it covered, and she couldn't be a villain like being in ABB would mean, if she was helping him out.
…He swore he could hear gunfire in the distance. Meh, this was Bay, there always was gunfire somewhere.
He did open his eyes when he heard Xiangliu take off. She was fast, fast enough to match Victor. Both of them threw their hits quickly, stepping around one another all the time. Victor took them all on the chest without flinching while Xiangliu dodged. Flowed around them, really. Jake thought what Victor was doing to dodge his punches before was what all the media said was flowing, but the woman was on whole 'nother level. When she ducked, she actually shrunk under Victor's fist, only to grow seven feet when she threw an uppercut before shrinking immediately right back to five feet four right as the guy was left backpedalling.
Without his bandanna.
"Now, what will it be, Vicky-boy? Scurry off to your friends in shame, or will you go on and risk PRT getting their hands on you?" Xiangliu crooned, spinning the bandana on her finger.
Victor stood there motionless for a moment, an absolutely murderous look on his face before spitting. "This is not over. I'll skin you next time, chink bitch."
Jake watched warily as the man power walked away before letting himself groan. Xiangliu turned around, revealing she also had fox ears, as well as bright, blue eyes and surprisingly white skin for an Asian. Also, now that he was in less pain, he could see she dressed surprisingly breezy. A loose, short sleeved shirt in addition to that skirt, and her gloves definitely weren't meant for winter. Probably a power thing.
When she knelt beside him, he could almost see completely upskirt. Judging by the grin on her face, on purpose. She reached out to his face and adjusted the scarf and cap he was using to cover his face.
"That was a brave thing of you. Stupid, but brave." She declared, patting his head. It felt nice, especially with all that pleasant smell wafting off from her. "Do you need me to bring you to a hospital?"
"N-no. Just… just gimme a minute and I will be… better." He asked her and she hummed before sitting down on the pavement and dragging him over to let his head rest on her lap. His eyes kinda fluttered from the dizziness her strong perfume was causing.
"Regeneration? I suppose that'd definitely add to the rush and the feeling of invincibility. What's your name?"
"I… ah, I don't have one." He admitted sheepishly.
"Very stupid." She sighed warmly. At least her hand didn't leave his head. Jake instinctively leaned into that positive feeling. "I suppose that'd be why Brutes don't last in this city." She added wryly. "Still, good deeds ought to be rewarded, don't you think? How about I treat you to a meal?"
Was that a date? Was the pretty Asian fox girl asking him out? It did sound kinda like it. "You saved my ass, shouldn't it be the other way around?" He joked weakly.
"I do have a proposition for your dumb, dumb self, otherwise I'd love to drain your wallet dry~." she teased back before bopping him on the nose. "Don't worry, it's not a gang recruitment pitch."
He was definitely treating it like a date, then. "Sounds good."
Challenger roared as she heaved and hurled her bike at Stormwolf who swerved mid-air to avoid it. Things were not going well, even with extra troopers sweeping from the HQ. Battery and Assault were out because Crusader was fucking bullshit, Velocity was just tiring himself out zooming all over the place putting out the fires after giving up on getting to Kaiser who was free to lock down Dauntless. Militia was holding Fenja and Menja… well, not off, but occupied by managing to organise the troopers enough to start effectively fighting back.
The only silver lining was that Challenger managed to put down Krieg, with some help from Stormtiger's friendly fire. Still counted as her win since she delivered the decisive blow. Suck it fuckers, she could now throw considerable stuff around!
Her earpiece cracked to life with comms from dispatch. "Challenger, break off! Alabaster broke Cricket out. They are coming in!"
Fucking how?! Cricket was held at PRT since she was easy to contain! And how the fuck did Ala-fucking-baster infiltrate the building deep enough to spring her?! This fucking stank.
"I am a little busy!" She growled as she grabbed her rifle and hurled it like a javelin at the flying fuck. Stormtiger, of course, dodged. "Fuck off!"
The flying circus just laughed as he kept doing air blasts, making it clear he was just keeping her occupied. And she couldn't just turn around and ignore him because then the fucker was guaranteed to switch to slashes!
There was another crackle in her earpiece and Challenger felt her blood run cold. "Where the hell did they get foam dissolver?!"
Fucking PRT, where else? Alabaster was there just now. She whirled around, grabbing her axe. If they freed Hook from the foam… She stumbled as the vertigo effect hit her. Just enough to throw off her throw.
Red blurred past her, Velocity racing to the still intact van with a bundle of foam grenades in hands, frantically arming them. Alabaster, who revealed himself standing by Hook's van, had the gall to blow them raspberry as he tossed the solution inside.
Velocity slammed into the overturned car—
—with a horrific screech of metal, the side which he hit exploded, the spinning mass of blades swallowing Velocity. His earpiece cut off before any sound could make it through. Challenger could only stare in shock as one of them just turned to fine mincemeat, the morbidly different blur of red splattering the street from side to side. Something warm splattered against Challenger's face and trickled down.
She blinked, dazedly.
Suddenly an explosion sounded and Fenja's face vanished in a cloud of smoke. Then another. And another. Then, it started raining red. Then, another explosion rocked the giantess' body and sent blood and gore flying. A piece of… she was pretty sure that was a fragment of brain matter the size of a bench, splashed near Kaiser's position
What the fuck…?
It wasn't just her. Pretty much every cape froze. Kaiser was looking pale and terrified as Fenja's body slowly toppled. A deafening wail filled the air as Menja shook the street collapsing to her knees, tears the size of basketballs splattering the street as she cradled her twin's corpse.
Looking around, Challenger spotted Militia being hurriedly dragged by the troopers into the alley trailing blood, a car embedded in the street where she held her position moments before. There was a much bigger splatter underneath it.
Slowly, the picture assembled itself as Empire capes sprang into full retreat, a chunk of concrete tearing itself to take the Twins (well…) with them. Challenger swallowed, pushing down the urge to pursue. Militia and the troopers now.
By joining, you, too, can access two chapters ahead.
"Here." Meltryllis announced her presence at the castle the next morning by stepping up to Moriarty and passing him a USB drive while ignoring everyone else with well practised grace of a professional primadonna. Quite impressive given that both Amy and Sabah were vocally trying to suppress their reaction to the Alter Ego's… rather revealing attire. Whatever else may be said about her, Meltryllis was a very leggy woman, and the… lack of the bottom of her costume, coupled with frankly ludicrous heels, only emphasised them.
Or it may have been the fact only a codpiece kept things decent.
"And good morning to you as well, Melt." The Professor greeted her dryly, only the slightest wince pointing to the excessive strength with which the violette pressed her gift into his hand. "How are you? Settling in fine? No problems with accommodations? Or your neighbours?"
"I have already greeted Outis last night, is that not more than sufficient?" The Alter Ego replied with a smirk, tilting her head enough to give herself a view on the other occupants of the Great Hall. Putting a hand hidden in the sleeve of her coat over her mouth, "But I will admit that the accommodations are better than on our last job. So thanks for that, Elizabeth. Good to know you are using mother's gift well."
The Countess' smile was a bit twitchy, but she received the backhanded compliment with grace (and a tail's squeeze of Outis' leg).
"And hello to you as well, Miss-I-assume-Melt. My name is Victoria, this is my sister Amy, she is your new coworker, how nice to meet you." Vicky threw her jab at the Alter Ego in the driest tone she could manage. Meltryllis turned around ever so slightly and looked at her as if she just noticed her. "That sure is an outfit of all time."
"I am sure." Meltryllis drawled as she legitimately strutted away from the only other man in the room to sit down on her own, if closer to Cleopatra in comparison to everyone else. The smirk resting on her face told Outis she knew perfectly well what kind of effect she was having on poor, twitchy Victoria. Then, she slowly uncrossed and crossed her legs again, giving the poor, useless lesbians in the room an excellent showing of her upper thighs and the fact that the codpiece was literally the only thing down there, the other side being only covered by her coat. Sabah managed to keep silent by burying her face in the nape of Liz's neck. Amy just made an excellent teakettle impression. "It does show off my best attributes."
"I can only assume the coat is to tamper down on foot traffic accidents." Outis commented as one may on the weather. Between Liz's outfit and Charisma, inhumanly beautiful women in revealing outfits were his new normal. It had sure helped keep his eyes where they belonged where Cleopatra was concerned, the Pharaoh was happily married and he wasn't about to intrude there without an explicit invitation.
"It's to accentuate, Outis." Meltryllis corrected him haughtily, raising one leg up. Victoria just buried her head in her hands while Kanabo followed everything with morbidly detached interest. "You need to leave a thing or two to imagination or there's no style, no artistry. Any trollop with a moderately decent body can get naked and gain men's lust. Leave even a little bit covered and they will be intrigued."
"The true purpose of clothes when the body surpasses the environment." The Master of Cards chuckled, offering a nod of acknowledgement. "The dark colours do make your pale skin and the silver metal really pop, makes for a nice impromptu frame. Then there's your fighting style to consider."
"Motion enhances what is already there, the shift in what's covered makes imagination run wild." Meltryllis agreed as she poked a dainty hand into the piping hot broth without so much as a flinch. "However, I'd not argue against expanding the range of my wardrobe. Even a diva needs time off, and constantly drawing attention of one's lessers can be irksome."
"Grab something of mine first, glorified pervert." Elizabeth struck without real heat behind her words. "We have similar enough builds they should fit and give you the oh so desired anonymity. Afterwards, Darling, we do need to talk about your reliance on Madness for combat."
"Yeah, I fucked up there." Outis admitted without any shame, thoughtlessly petting the tail wandering around his seat, "Thought I could just keep it as an emergency trump card and otherwise just use Red Berserker's high Parameters and weapon borrowing to get through. I have to upgrade Madness Enhancement to Berserking somehow, or at least put in something like Bravery, and also start putting some work on the other cards. Like Saber and Rider."
[Skill Trials could work. By sacrificing a Blank Card, QP and relevant materials, you can unlock an instance which, upon completion, awards you the Skill you wanted to get.]
[At E-rank, as usual.]
["We do not have a spare blank Berserker card, Da'at."] Moriarty interjected into the explanations. ["Obtaining Mystery Slayer while bypassing unlocking it destroyed Raikou's card completely."]
[That is the main problem I am trying to figure out beyond just encouraging the Master to spend more money, yes. A trial run of the system should have modified requirements but looking up relevant data will take time.]
["I would offer to do another ten-roll, but I feel a shopping trip looming over the horizon."] Outis commented. Really, the only reason there hadn't been one yesterday when they'd had that outing with Cleopatra was that after his throwback to monstrosity nobody had much felt in the mood.
"Got a little bit too emotional and caused a wee bit too much damage in combat?" Victoria asked with a wince. "Yeah, I can relate. Happens to the best of us from time to time. Justy need to figure out a good way to own up to it."
"You, of all people, should not be dispensing this kind of wisdom, Vicky." Amy snarked quietly at her sister. Victoria, magnanimously, completely ignored her.
"It wasn't quite as bad as with the bloodsucker, but I also wasn't anywhere near as focused, so…" Outis grimaced, making a tearing gesture with his hand. "Yeah. Everyone came out alright but it was one hell of a scare, so gotta get it under control."
"...Not like my problems, then." Victoria conceded. "Fair enough. So, you are going to buy your recent additions to the crew something actually presentable to wear." She ignored Meltryllis' raised eyebrow and Cleopatra's unimpressed stare with practised ease. "Avoid Boardwalk shops, they will rip you off. Most of the good stuff is Downtown. They aren't even affiliated with the Empire~!"
"There's free places in the Docks too." Sabah piped in, having managed to heroically overcome her thirst. "Mostly for traditional Asian wear, though, so unless you want them to blend in or have it be a special occasion…"
"Maybe for Chinese New Year. For now, though, they need some casualwear. And I am going to be treated to the wonders of female fashion prices once again." Outis sighed like a deflating balloon. Sure, he was making six hundred bucks a day with Nightingale now, but those prices still hurt his gobbo soul. Then, just for Melt to hear, ["Well, you could probably shapeshift in whatever clothes you damn well please, but I somehow doubt you're going to pass up on making my wallet weep."]
["Just pasting clothes onto my form lacks a certain panache, yes. Smart boy. And it's not just prices you will experience, but the whole song and dance of trying out the outfit only to decide we don't want it~."]
["Talking shop about fashion and seeing what does and does not work is actually fun. Also, don't worry if there is something you want but isn't available in your size, Violet Caster has some tailoring spells."]
"Have fun and try not to start an incident." Victoria sighed. "I'd offer to tag along, but dad got in touch so we're gonna be busy with that."
"As far as casual goes, I suppose pants aren't bad." Melt commented as she strutted out of the changing room, presenting herself in sinfully tight, blue jeans and short sleeved white shirt short enough to leave her entire midriff exposed. "Not something I'd fight in, but…" She paused to throw a subtle glance at a group of teenage boys who really stood out in the women's section of the clothing store. Given they didn't seem to be accompanying anyone, it was rather obvious they were here for the free show. The AI smirked as one slipped when adjusting his lean against the wall when Cleopatra joined them in her own tight booty shorts over pantyhouse and black and white leather jacket.
"Something the matter?" The Pharaoh asked as she struck a pose. Again. The woman seemed clinically incapable of not cocking her hips.
"Just getting my innocent licks where I can get them." Melt shrugged as she walked over and plopped onto the seat next to Outis, leaning against her. "Digital is more fun after all."
"You could just… not?" Cleopatra offered the other Servant as she tested her outfit by stretching. "You can just ignore people, you know?"
The AI smirked as she observed their voyeurs' reaction to the woman's antics. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know?" Leaning back, she threw one leg over another while still smirking. "Besides, since Outis brought such a great icebreaker, I decided to play along the bit and try to be a good girl."
"I appreciate the effort." Yellow Rider said, making a show of grabbing Melt's hand in her own. Girl wasn't the only one who enjoyed yanking people's chains and she knew perfectly well what teenage brains would cook up. The photos one of them was trying to be sneaky about were just a plus, had to get the news out that Oratorio had yet more manpower.
The way she squeezed Melt's hand hard enough anyone else would yelp in pain, though? That was just between them.
"Maybe we should charge them for the view?" The AI mused loudly as she returned the gesture with a softer smile. Hard enough Outis was sure her bones were audibly creaking from the pressure. "Goodness knows just beating random criminals will not be enough for you to afford a proper wardrobe for either of us, let alone all of us and yourself."
"She needs it, desperately, which is why I'm willing to limit myself to a single outfit." Cleopatra added with an air of sage generosity.
"Thanks. It'll only be for a short while, at least." The mustard-haired girl said with a wan smile. Soon enough they'd get Cleopatra to Ascension 1 and then Golden Rule would make the money start rolling in. Doubly so when Melt and Moriarty were there to help, never-you-mind the Assassin that'd come home together with that brush up with the cancer in the moon.
Nightingale was taking a break today to let them out to play, although Outis doubted the schemes stopped at the PRT prisoner convoy.
Challenger was ready for things to go to shit as soon as Hookwolf's convoy left the bridge leading from The Rig into the city proper. The fact this was the Nazi's third hypothetical ride to the PRT HQ where the handover to one of Dragon's special 'prisoner transport' suits would then move him to Birdcage, made her all but sure of it. Why Hookwolf needed to be transported through the city at all instead of getting picked directly up from The Rig, Challenger didn't know. Sure, Dragon was, technically speaking, a Canadian heroine slash citizen. Thus Birdcage, as her creation, was technically speaking an international prison and thus needed federal officials (which PRT branch directors counted as) present and doing all the song and dance of processing an extradition paperwork at the handover of any potential inmates.
Fucking stupid rule, if anyone asked Challenger. Especially in Brockton fucking Bay where the biggest and most aggressive gang, whose member they were escorting right now, had double the Protectorate's numbers in parahumans. Especially with Hookwolf, who, once a-fucking-gain, was already sentenced to Birdcage for the last six years. At this fucking point, they should be allowed to have that handover at The Rig.
Especially since Armsmaster was held back to 'hold the fort' so that there was someone sitting behind the console. At least it meant her boss didn't mind Challenger trashing him in the ring to top herself up a little before they moved out.
Well, she said trashing, but her power didn't like it when her opponents just gave her the win.
She took the point and Dauntless the back as the toughest members of the team. Velocity was positioned right behind her while Assault and Battery were just in front of Dauntless. Hookwolf's van was flanked by two more with containment foam turrets on top of them. Another van housed Militia and the rest of the troopers.
The convoy cleared the Docks without an issue. Challenger's instincts were all but blaring the warning sirens at her.
Which was what actually allowed her to swerve out of the way of suddenly-massive Fenja already upswinging her spear, tearing asphalt like a plough before the tip flipped Hookwolf's transport good twenty feet into the air and backwards, scattering all three Protectorate capes there. She barely blinked as the water from the ruptured underground pipe burst and showered her.
Challenger winced. Those troopers were out. If they were lucky, at the very least their grenades would've gone off and sealed the interior.
That was all the thought Challenger got to spare the troopers before she was beset by Stormtiger and Krieg, her axe cleaving the air to disperse the razor sharp wind launched by the former in a wide enough arc to keep the latter at bay. She's vaguely aware of the gunfire starting even as Velocity blurred past her. Stormtiger's wind blades barely affected him while he was on the move and he shot past them, a blur of speed ro great for Krieg to react either.
Merely shoved aside and made to lose balance while her fellow hero shot off as red blur further forward… towards Kaiser. Challenger shot right after him to capitalise on the opening he provided her. Two on one would be tough at the best of times, with only Armsmaster's charge to ramp her up… normally.
Axe twisted in her hands as she brought it down on the prone Krieg (hitting a Birdcage convoy meant gloves could be off, no one would blame her). A grunt escaped her lips as the weapon slowed down to a crawl as it neared the nazi. The man on the ground didn't even seem phased, the eyes looking back at her from behind the mask cold and controlled.
Then she had to jump back as Stormtiger launched his offensive again. The opportunity had been lost, if it was there at all. She risked a glance around.
Crusader was boxing Assault and Battery in with his ghosts. Kaiser remained untouched, surrounded by a field of blades making it suicidal for Velocity to approach. Fenja was joined by her sister as the twin giantesses tore at PRT vans, exposing the troopers and Militia to the gunfire of the unpowered gangsters and Rune's bombardment.
Where's Alabaster?
That fucker was perfect for this kind of op.
The air screeched and she had to dodge another set of wind blades. She almost slipped on the wet asphalt, transitioning into the roll that let her spring up. Just in time for Krieg to be on her as she found the air scarce. Gritting her teeth, she let the man push the blade of her weapon away to swing the butt at him. He grabbed it with his right hand, barely budging as he locked her in place–
She heaved and twisted him into Stormtiger's air blast. He staggered forward, but didn't loosen the grip. That's fine with her. She used his distraction to headbutt the fucker and was rewarded with a very satisfying crunch of a broken nose.
Please, for the love of god, whatever harebrained idea you've got now that you've powers, do not go after long established villains. They are long established for a reason.
Jake groaned as the passage from the PHO thread for newbies came unbidden to his mind even as he scrambled to his feet. The Nazi guy in front of him just stood there, observing him. The guy had some body armour plates on the torso and a mask covering just the upper portion of his face, but otherwise was… Okay, he was still a jacked, six foot plus guy. But otherwise, Victor didn't… well, Jake's research said he was a 'skill thief'. Nothing super about the guy otherwise.
Normally, Jake probably wouldn't go out of his way to fight a Nazi supervillain and his girlfriend while they, and their goons, hit the police precinct, but… Well, with Hookwolf locked and it being just Victor and a chick who definitely wasn't Rune, with the normies not really a danger to him, Jake thought he could take the guy. And PRT's HQ was right across the road! So really, all it meant was that he didn't even really need to win against the guy, he just needed to keep him in place long enough for the PRT to notice and relieve the cops. He could do that! He could totally do it! Easy!
He could not, in fact, do it.
At all.
Victor was friggin' fast and had moves Jake didn't even know the names for but which folded him like nothing. Just slammed Jake all over the lobby while the goons went deeper to free their remaining buddies. Victor's all-green clad, blonde girlfriend (was she aping Vista?) stood behind Victor completely relaxed, projecting boredom.
Jake elected to push the lack of gunfire which was filling the hallways deeper into the building for the past several minutes out of his mind. He'd love to think the cops, unlike him, had this. The main precinct was supposed to be prestige posting after all.
"You are a tenacious one, boy, that much I will grant you." The Nazi eventually spoke in a light tone as he adjusted his gloves. Jake watched the guy wearily for more bullshit. "But that's all you have. Brawns and will, with little skill to back them up to let you win. So just stay down and I'll even tell my men to leave you alone. You're, after all, only doing your civic duty, hmmm?"
Honestly, that did sound nice.
Instead, Jake raised his fists as he felt his power take care of the bruises Victor already gave him. "I can do this all day, fucko." He declared with far more confidence than he felt, just proud that he managed to keep his voice deep and steady. Worst came, he could turn it into an attrition fight. The chick prolly didn't have combat power, given she was hanging back.
Victor sighed. "Lord my witness, I tried. O, if you would?" He addressed his girlfriend while raising a hand to curl it into a fist where the chick could see it. Some kind of signal?
The blonde Nazi shrugged and walked over to the guy, tapping him gently on the muscular arm before shooting Jake a one-eyed look. Literally, this close Jake could see the black eyepatch covering her left one.
Then, just as soon as Miss O backed away, Victor charged. Slower, this time, noticeably and Jake felt he had a chance. Grinning at the fucker, he felt the bone plates form under the skin of his fists while his leg muscles bulged to propel him forward. He threw a straight haymaker a little below the guy's face to counter any dodging bullshit.
Victor swerved just right, Jake's fist passing his face my millimetres. Then, he punched Jake right back in the abdomen.
He coughed out spit, vision going white as a sense of weightlessness filled him. There was a sound of breaking glass before Jake hit the pavement outside the precinct hard enough to drive the rest of his breath out of his lungs. His head hit the ground hard enough all he could hear was ringing.
Coughing, he tried to stand up, vision blurry and legs still swaying. Honestly, felt like he was drunk. Also, his stomach hurt like motherfucker. What the fuck happened? That was definitely super strength!
"Honestly, kids these days." Victor's voice sounded a bit muffled as he stepped through the broken door, looking down on Jake. Quite literally, given the stairs. "An impressive one manages to bring down Hookwolf, alongside her friends, and suddenly all of you are hotshots, hmmm?"
Okay, when he put it like that, Jake could see where he was coming from. He just triggered four days ago, for Chrissake! Jake shook his head, feeling a bit better by the second. He took his sloppy stance again. He dropped his fists a little lower when the rest of the Empire goons started streaming out of the precinct. Sure, some of them seemed worse for wear, but there were definitely more of them, and most of them were eyeing him with sneers. Miss O was also there, still as disinterested in him as ever.
The brick shithouse of a Nazi in front of him sighed. "Well, your chance passed, boy. Time to learn a valuable lesson in Brockton Bay, since it seems to have slipped your head."
Before Jake could think, the man was already in front of him, grabbing his wrists in a vice-like grip. Jake struggled to try and pull himself free before the man simply used him as a springboard to knee him in the groin.
"...!" He could only writhe in the agony on the ground, all thoughts of resistance abandoned as he instinctively curled up and focused all his intent on making the pain go away. He barely registered as other powered hits landed on his sides and back.
"That's better! Just stay down in the dirt! Where you belong!" The man spat out as he kept hitting. Jake could barely think. He had enough presence of mind to shield his head but… "Not so strong after all!? Huh?! This is! What you get! For playing a hero!"
The other Nazis joined in, booing and jeering at Jake, even if they mercifully stood back, letting Victor trash him. Did no one call PRT? Why was no one coming? Reacting, at least? It was… not fair! He just wanted to… to make a difference!
Why was no one helping?
"My, oh my, what an inspiring sign does the Empire make. A grown man, backed by twenty more, all against a teenager?" A female voice sounded from somewhere behind Jake. A sweet, pleasant smell filled his lungs as Jake took a desperate breath. Victor stopped his beatdown to step back with a frown as he looked at the woman behind Jake.
"And what business of yours is that, Xiangliu? This isn't Docks, so scurry away like you always do."
"Indeed?" The voice sounded amused. She stepped carelessly over Jake, letting him see the waist long, white hair with black streaks in it… and the fox tail with the same colouration swooshing from above the woman's skirt. "I would like to think I don't have that bad of a shot against you of all Empire capes, Victor." Jake could swear the fragrance in the air was getting thicker just from her being closer to him;. He felt numb, and kinda droopy. His head was dizzy.
Victor's expression turned into an angry scowl. "All of you are forgetting your place, it seems."
"Do be my guest and blame Hookwolf for being the poster boy of Empire's strength." The woman, Xiangliu (was it Japanese? ABB was Asian, right?) tutted as she raised her glowed hands. "You are, of course, free to leave. Your boys don't look so good." She cooed with clear amusement. Jake realised that Victor's goons were, in fact, swaying where they stood like they were suddenly drunk. Some of them were leaning on one another. Even Miss O wasn't looking so hot.
"O, take the men and go. Mission accomplished anyway." Victor barked, causing the blond chick to jolt and start corralling their men. The brick of a villain himself took out a bandanna and wrapped it around his face before squaring against Xiangliu, who seemed content to continue the stand-off.
Jake exhaled slowly as he dared to close his eyes, focused on the pain, slowly, ever so slowly, fading. His head was still ringing and kinda heavy. The Asian vigilante had it covered, right? She definitely sounded like she had it covered, and she couldn't be a villain like being in ABB would mean, if she was helping him out.
…He swore he could hear gunfire in the distance. Meh, this was Bay, there always was gunfire somewhere.
He did open his eyes when he heard Xiangliu take off. She was fast, fast enough to match Victor. Both of them threw their hits quickly, stepping around one another all the time. Victor took them all on the chest without flinching while Xiangliu dodged. Flowed around them, really. Jake thought what Victor was doing to dodge his punches before was what all the media said was flowing, but the woman was on whole 'nother level. When she ducked, she actually shrunk under Victor's fist, only to grow seven feet when she threw an uppercut before shrinking immediately right back to five feet four right as the guy was left backpedalling.
Without his bandanna.
"Now, what will it be, Vicky-boy? Scurry off to your friends in shame, or will you go on and risk PRT getting their hands on you?" Xiangliu crooned, spinning the bandana on her finger.
Victor stood there motionless for a moment, an absolutely murderous look on his face before spitting. "This is not over. I'll skin you next time, chink bitch."
Jake watched warily as the man power walked away before letting himself groan. Xiangliu turned around, revealing she also had fox ears, as well as bright, blue eyes and surprisingly white skin for an Asian. Also, now that he was in less pain, he could see she dressed surprisingly breezy. A loose, short sleeved shirt in addition to that skirt, and her gloves definitely weren't meant for winter. Probably a power thing.
When she knelt beside him, he could almost see completely upskirt. Judging by the grin on her face, on purpose. She reached out to his face and adjusted the scarf and cap he was using to cover his face.
"That was a brave thing of you. Stupid, but brave." She declared, patting his head. It felt nice, especially with all that pleasant smell wafting off from her. "Do you need me to bring you to a hospital?"
"N-no. Just… just gimme a minute and I will be… better." He asked her and she hummed before sitting down on the pavement and dragging him over to let his head rest on her lap. His eyes kinda fluttered from the dizziness her strong perfume was causing.
"Regeneration? I suppose that'd definitely add to the rush and the feeling of invincibility. What's your name?"
"I… ah, I don't have one." He admitted sheepishly.
"Very stupid." She sighed warmly. At least her hand didn't leave his head. Jake instinctively leaned into that positive feeling. "I suppose that'd be why Brutes don't last in this city." She added wryly. "Still, good deeds ought to be rewarded, don't you think? How about I treat you to a meal?"
Was that a date? Was the pretty Asian fox girl asking him out? It did sound kinda like it. "You saved my ass, shouldn't it be the other way around?" He joked weakly.
"I do have a proposition for your dumb, dumb self, otherwise I'd love to drain your wallet dry~." she teased back before bopping him on the nose. "Don't worry, it's not a gang recruitment pitch."
He was definitely treating it like a date, then. "Sounds good."
Challenger roared as she heaved and hurled her bike at Stormwolf who swerved mid-air to avoid it. Things were not going well, even with extra troopers sweeping from the HQ. Battery and Assault were out because Crusader was fucking bullshit, Velocity was just tiring himself out zooming all over the place putting out the fires after giving up on getting to Kaiser who was free to lock down Dauntless. Militia was holding Fenja and Menja… well, not off, but occupied by managing to organise the troopers enough to start effectively fighting back.
The only silver lining was that Challenger managed to put down Krieg, with some help from Stormtiger's friendly fire. Still counted as her win since she delivered the decisive blow. Suck it fuckers, she could now throw considerable stuff around!
Her earpiece cracked to life with comms from dispatch. "Challenger, break off! Alabaster broke Cricket out. They are coming in!"
Fucking how?! Cricket was held at PRT since she was easy to contain! And how the fuck did Ala-fucking-baster infiltrate the building deep enough to spring her?! This fucking stank.
"I am a little busy!" She growled as she grabbed her rifle and hurled it like a javelin at the flying fuck. Stormtiger, of course, dodged. "Fuck off!"
The flying circus just laughed as he kept doing air blasts, making it clear he was just keeping her occupied. And she couldn't just turn around and ignore him because then the fucker was guaranteed to switch to slashes!
There was another crackle in her earpiece and Challenger felt her blood run cold. "Where the hell did they get foam dissolver?!"
Fucking PRT, where else? Alabaster was there just now. She whirled around, grabbing her axe. If they freed Hook from the foam… She stumbled as the vertigo effect hit her. Just enough to throw off her throw.
Red blurred past her, Velocity racing to the still intact van with a bundle of foam grenades in hands, frantically arming them. Alabaster, who revealed himself standing by Hook's van, had the gall to blow them raspberry as he tossed the solution inside.
Velocity slammed into the overturned car—
—with a horrific screech of metal, the side which he hit exploded, the spinning mass of blades swallowing Velocity. His earpiece cut off before any sound could make it through. Challenger could only stare in shock as one of them just turned to fine mincemeat, the morbidly different blur of red splattering the street from side to side. Something warm splattered against Challenger's face and trickled down.
She blinked, dazedly.
Suddenly an explosion sounded and Fenja's face vanished in a cloud of smoke. Then another. And another. Then, it started raining red. Then, another explosion rocked the giantess' body and sent blood and gore flying. A piece of… she was pretty sure that was a fragment of brain matter the size of a bench, splashed near Kaiser's position
What the fuck…?
It wasn't just her. Pretty much every cape froze. Kaiser was looking pale and terrified as Fenja's body slowly toppled. A deafening wail filled the air as Menja shook the street collapsing to her knees, tears the size of basketballs splattering the street as she cradled her twin's corpse.
Looking around, Challenger spotted Militia being hurriedly dragged by the troopers into the alley trailing blood, a car embedded in the street where she held her position moments before. There was a much bigger splatter underneath it.
Slowly, the picture assembled itself as Empire capes sprang into full retreat, a chunk of concrete tearing itself to take the Twins (well…) with them. Challenger swallowed, pushing down the urge to pursue. Militia and the troopers now.
As always, big thanks to Xanah, Unknown B, Penguino, JoJoDio, Shirou0Emiya, Bowchikabowow. MetaWorld42, nununu, Just Some Guy With A Mustage, Ermast, Helios, Joshua Littlesun, [TEE],PlatiNom, Jose Matos, Soulsmsher, Altaibaatar, Ian DeHart, Brigand, Starfall 20 and ลิงติดเกม จากป่าดิบชื้นแถบอเมริกาใต้, saganatsu, Gabriel, Devan Duncan, Dodge the Lava, Aravir, Alys, Romain BETTINELLI, Phantsai, Austin, That_One_Guy, Francisco Garaycoa, Matthew Johnson, Mohamed Aljahmi, DalmascanSunset and Caleb_Denin, who decided my writing is actually worth paying for.
Somebody fucked up. Or Coil Coiled. Or both, both is good.
We got Challenger to exist but lost Velocity
Damn
Damn
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
Militia cast "become ragu" with spam-resetting an RPG to LARP as a missile battery.
- Location
- London
Unfortunately, the dice gods were not kind to Velocity. They wouldn't be kind to Militia either, if not for the fact she exist in the same city as Panacea.
Yes, we did pretty much use Wildbow Method (aka rolling the dice) to see who, if anyone, bites it during Hookwolf's third Birdcage breakout (and isn't it crazy this guy was supposed to be punted there two or three times already by the time canon starts?)
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
Hey, Omida, you fucked up a bit with the threadmark. There's a 77 there that don't belong.
- Location
- London
blinks
Where the hell-
At least it's not 88, thematic as it would be.