Well, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I could offer you a plethora of excuses: work, mental health (still struggling mightily there), energy levels, the list goes on. The fact of the matter is honestly I've been a coward: constantly second-guessing myself and just giving up for months on end simply because nothing worked in my head. So yeah, it's been a shitshow in my head and I'm not proud of it.
I can't guarantee further progress in a timely manner, I'm trying to go back to Ice and Fire and try and salvage that sunk ship too.
I'd like to thank all of the beta readers and editors who have helped me try and get my thoughts put together to get this out to you, the reader. You all know who you are.
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Adjustments 2.04
Amongst the many sins that could be laid before the feet of James Rinke, there were few that were more personal for Emily than her current inability to drink. Because right now, she would prefer to be drinking something a lot stronger than the coffee she was currently downing.
Of course, that wasn't to say she wasn't doing her level best to push the envelope of what was acceptable to her ailing kidneys as she sipped coffee that could only be described as the blackest of black from her cup.
The reason for her current frustration was the morning intelligence brief that had been set upon her desk ten minutes ago. Every morning, she required a briefing on what happened the previous day, in the event that she may have missed something.
In this case, the news that had caught her ire was two-fold. The first being the expected escalation of activity by the two major gangs of Brockton Bay had yet to materialize for another evening. Nor were there any reports of notable gang activity from either the ABB or E88 outside of a few spotted patrols.
She had at least expected business as usual with probative strikes or even some sort of statement. The silence was certainly unnerving and she had a feeling that there was some meaning behind it, beyond simply being the calm before the storm.
She made a note to reach out to the BBPD to see if they had any intel they'd be willing to share, though considering the tepid nature between their two offices she doubted they would. However, she couldn't really blame them, the PRT and Protectorate had never really done anything to promote interoffice cooperation, in fact the rules rammed through Congress in their charters had only served to alienate any relationship worse than the bog-standard fare that was the usual federal-local relationship. No one liked being constantly reminded they weren't capable of doing the job they swore to do by a bunch of suits and 'heroes'.
That brought her to her second headache of the day, Tenshi. While she would not regret the acceptance of alliance with the rogue, there were still problems with the arrangement. The fact that Tenshi was ostensibly a rogue meant she owed no loyalty to the Protectorate. While it may amount to nothing, it would nonetheless be foolish of her not to consider the other woman as an ally of convenience, nothing more. There was always a chance that Tenshi had plans that would eventually find her opposing the Protectorate and PRT itself once the ABB and E88 were eliminated.
It was with those considerations in mind that the news from Brockton Bay General was a rather unwelcome tidbit of information. The cape's statement that she wasn't very good at it notwithstanding; The fact that Tenshi had hidden her ability to heal until now could only add to worry of
what else she could be hiding.
She had to resist the urge to massage her temples, instead she chose to hide it behind finishing off her coffee.
Conventional logic would suggest that this was likely the limit of what Tenshi could do, but her gut feeling told her otherwise. It was her opinion that Tenshi was certainly hiding more. If it was any other cape, she would likely have said no, but after meeting the woman and getting a feeling for her, she was willing to bet that she was. Because of that, it made no sense if the cape's objectives were as grandiose as she had claimed to show all her cards.. It would allow for the gangs to plan accordingly and counter her.
No, Tenshi was holding back, there was no doubt in her mind. The issue now was divining just what exactly she was hiding, and how much it changed her threat value for the future.
Making a note to again put some pressure on WEDGNG to get her a full report on what they could extrapolate on Tenshi and her abilities, she then looked to the other reports on her desk.
It was as she was going over the readiness report for local PRT assets that her phone rang. Knowing it could only be important if it bypassed her secretary, she picked it up.
"Piggot."
"It's Costa-Brown."
Immediately dropping everything else, she focused upon the probably the most important phone call of the day, "Ma'am."
"How are things holding up over there?"
"Strangely quiet, ma'am. We're not sure yet what to think of it, but I'll be extending feelers to the local law enforcement to see if they have anything."
"And Tenshi?"
"I haven't spoken to her, yet. I was planning to await word from you before contacting her again."
That and it would avoid placing the Protectorate and PRT in an inappropriate position if it was decided that they wouldn't be providing any support.
"In that case, you may want to set up a meeting, Director."
"Ma'am?"
"I've just gotten off the phone with Legend. He's agreed that this may be our best chance to upset the balance of power in Brockton Bay. He'll want a finalized plan, but he's willing to reassign Arbiter, Rime, and Flechette to Brockton Bay. Furthermore, Legend has agreed to assist as well."
For a moment, Emily didn't know what to say. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected such a large diversion of Protectorate assets to Brockton Bay outside of an Endbringer attack. The cynical part of her wanted to snap at the Chief Director that it was about time, but the professional side of her stifled it and instead analyzed just who she was getting.
And immediately she smelt a rat.
Outside of Legend, the leader of the Protectorate, both Rime and Arbiter were the second-in-commands for the Philadelphia and Los Angeles Protectorate branches respectively. It was a much larger investment of personnel and powers than she would honestly expect for what she was envisioning as a shoring up operation. Obviously there was something else going on here.
"Please pass on my gratitude to Legend," she began, choosing her words carefully instead of bulling ahead as she was usually known to do, "however, I can't help but notice the personnel chosen and wonder if there is another motive to the selection."
"I'm glad you noticed that, Emily. Legend felt that it was necessary to kill two birds with one stone. With the current state of the local Protectorate, he felt that Rime and Arbiter would be the best choices for reorganization of both the Protectorate and Wards, while also preparing Dauntless for command. Once the situation is stabilized they will focus their efforts upon that."
That actually made sense; while she knew Dauntless was capable of leadership, he was still rough around the edges. It was somewhat unfair of her to have to put him in this position without the proper training, but the cruel fact was that she had no other choice. For a long time she had willingly ignored Armsmaster's drawbacks because she could not afford to do anything about it, but with his latest stunt it could no longer be ignored. With Washington ignoring her pleas, her only option had been a shitty deal all around. However, if she was getting Rime and Arbiter to help fix the Protectorate side of Brockton Bay, then Dauntless would likely have the support he needed.
"Again, pass along my gratitude to Legend for his understanding. I'll have an operational plan within the next two days, if that will be acceptable. Final action I hope to execute by next week."
"Very well then, Emily. Arbiter and Rime will be arriving within the next three days, hopefully that will give them enough time to get a lay of the land and start reorganizing. Keep me in the loop if you need anything else."
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It took what was left of her exhausted reserves not to audibly groan as Amy sipped from her iced coffee, the chilled caffeine providing just enough to keep her from slipping past the line between alertness and surrendering to the exhaustion that was gnawing at the edge of her consciousness and sanity.
Due to the events at the hospital, sleep had proven to be an elusive beast. Then again, Amy firmly doubted that
anyone could have slept after that, unless they were an outright sociopath. On second thought…
She shook her head, discarding that tangent and firmly laying the blame for its existence on her current lack of sleep, and dedicated herself to finishing off the coffee and moving to purchase another of the precious elixir.
The smart thing would have been to call in sick for the day, citing work at the hospital and just feeling under the weather. Unfortunately, smart had never met Carol Dallon. The second she called in, Carol would be all over her demanding an explanation all the way down to the smallest minutiae.
From there, it would only be a matter of time before Carol discovered her disillusionment with her current life trajectory. She knew more than anything that once
that was discovered, all bets were off with the woman who had 'raised' her. It didn't take a blind man to recognize that Carol Dallon was a control freak, and Amy had a suspicion that it had to do with her trigger event. What made it worse was that Carol extended that behavior to almost everything, including the lives of everyone under her house.
While Vicky was the recipient from time to time, it was nothing compared to the shit that was piled upon Amy simply because she was not Carol's daughter by blood. It was blindingly obvious that Carol only tolerated her out of some sort of notion or agreement, and it had become even worse
after she had triggered, with the matriarch of the Dallons heaping unrealistic demands and expectations upon her.
Amy knew without a doubt that if Carol found out about her flagging resolve, all her previous treatment would pale in comparison to the hell that the woman would make her life. Especially if she ever found out the true scope of her powers.
Sighing, she unscrewed the top of another iced coffee, using the motion to discard the thought entirely. It was pointless to dwell upon what wasn't going to happen at this time, considering she was here at school and not at home sleeping, as much as she wished she was.
And then there was the source of all of this, Taylor Hebert. She wasn't naive enough to believe that the other teenager was doing this out of any sort of heroic altruism. There was obviously an agenda here, though so far she was unable to figure out what her angle was.
Either way, the other reason she had decided to come back to school was to confront the other girl and find out what exactly it was that Taylor wanted. Once she had that answer then she would decide on what she wanted to do.
Still, she couldn't shake the thought, one that was jaded by the reality that was her current lot in life, that maybe - just
maybe - what Taylor was offering and trying to do was legitimate. That it wasn't steeped solely in self-serving greed.
Finishing off the dregs of the last coffee, she tossed it to join its partner in the recycling bin, then gathered her bag up and went over to the table where Taylor had claimed for herself.
It said something about Taylor herself that in the time she had been at Arcadia, she had kept to herself mostly. Those that did engage with her in an attempt to strike a friendship found the girl rather aloof. After the first few days not many people tried, and Amy had a feeling that this suited the brunette just fine. She had to wonder, though, if this was natural for the girl, or if it was something she brought from Winslow.
All in all however, the grapevine at Arcadia of those that had crossed paths with Taylor Hebert had labeled her as a studious and intense loner more interested in her education than in building a social circle.
Coming to a seat across from her, she kept silent as she waited for the brunette to finish reading what appeared to be
Moby Dick. It wasn't any assignment that she knew of, so it was likely being done out of pleasure.
Soon enough, Taylor closed the book and placed it down before focusing solely upon her, hands folding onto the table.
"Yes?"
"About last night-"
"Not here."
Amy blinked, momentarily taken aback by the interruption. She had built herself up to seek answers and to be so decisively put down was not something she was certainly expecting.
It was reflective in her next words where her mouth had not caught up with her brain.
"What?"
"I said not here," was the reiteration, before adding after a moment, "I doubt you want anyone to overhear what you want to talk about."
This caused her mouth to snap shut, as it was true. A part of her cursed herself for not thinking about the fact that they were in a cafeteria. A quick glance around did note that there were some people looking in her direction, obviously wondering what Panacea of all people would want with the new girl.
Closing her eyes, she sighed, cursing again the fact that she had been deprived of sleep.
"Sure," she finally said, "after school."
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It wasn't very often that Max Anders violated his own rules and indulged in alcohol during the day — outside of special occasions. But right now, as he looked out upon Brockton Bay from his office, he had made an exception as he pensively sipped an expensive cognac.
The reason for such a departure from his own strict standards was the burner phone currently sitting in a locked false drawer in his desk. Not just any burner phone, it was the equivalent of an emergency communications link between Lung and himself via Somer's Rock. It was only used in order to request a meeting upon the bar that served as neutral ground.
It had only been used twice in the past, once when the Teeth had looked to return to Brockton Bay, and the other to assure the draconic thug that the idiot that killed Fleur had not been under the orders of anyone under his command.
And now it had been used a third time three days ago, not by himself or Lung, but by Coil. How that snake had managed to divine the backroom arrangement between himself and Lung he did not know, but there would be a reckoning once a review of everyone with knowledge was completed.
That aside, why Coil had chosen to reveal his knowledge of the secret backchannel was the reason why the man who was also Kaiser of the Empire 88 was lost in his thoughts, after having accepted the call for a meeting that would be happening this evening.
A month ago, he would have scoffed at the idea that a single vigilante could mount a threat to the Empire. That had been before Hookwolf's capture and the sudden onslaught that this 'Tenshi' had brought to bear against his people. Before in a single evening, this cape had crippled the Merchants to the point that snapping them up would be an afterthought for the Empire or the ABB.
He
despised underestimating a threat; it showed both a failure of intelligence and a lack of control. He had underestimated Tenshi and it had cost him a large arms shipment and Hookwolf. He would not be doing so again, especially if Coil's claim that Tenshi was now working directly with the Protectorate and PRT turned out to be true.
So he would meet with Coil and Lung under a flag of truce, and regardless of Coil's information - or Lung's choices - he would focus his efforts on eliminating this new player. And there would not be any underestimating her this time.
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While it was a calculated risk, it was still one that ran raw upon the sensibilities that I had cultivated from Konan's experiences. One did not expose strategic assets to unknowns, even if I felt like I had a good read upon said person.
Nonetheless, I kept my guard up as I led Amy into the back room of Daybreak, ready in the event that my read was incorrect.
Coming to a seat at a table, I then motioned towards the other seat, allowing the teenager that was also the foremost healer on the east coast if not the entirety of the United States to gather herself for what she wanted to say.
"Why?"
That was the crux of it, wasn't it? Why was I going out of my way to do any of this? Why was I putting myself at risk? It wasn't like Panacea was critical to fulfilling my goals, outside of the possible threat that she could develop into if my suspicions were correct. At best she was a luxury and a contingency, nothing more. The part of me that was Konan's experiences would have kept a cautious eye upon her, but nothing more.
But there was that part of me that made me who I was, that couldn't help but
see Amy Dallon through all of those considerations. It was somewhat like looking in the mirror and finding yourself. While I hadn't had the weight of the world on my shoulders before all of this, I could easily recognize the weariness and the exhaustion. The unceasing pressure to just
give in.
"Because I know what it's like," I finally said, deciding to just rip the band-aid off and cut to the heart of the matter, "to feel the walls closing in and the only ways out all seem like bad choices."
This was met with a scoff from the healer, "And what? You think all I have are bad choices?"
"I don't know," I arched an eyebrow, "do you?"
Amy's mouth opened, before it closed again, as it appeared she seemed to chew on that thought. Leaning forward, I clasped my hands upon the table, as I chose my next words carefully, "You are one of the strongest healers in the world, Amy. But those around you have limited your growth in so many ways. I'm not talking about developing your power. I'm talking about self-sufficiency. I'm talking about utilizing your reputation independently. The narrative involving Panacea has taken over your life and it's being written by New Wave, the PRT, the Hospital and every other interested party. The only one who doesn't seem to have control over who Panacea ought to be is Amy Dallon."
Seeing the hook being set by the look in her eyes, I then continued, slowly morphing myself into Konan to add emphasis to what I was saying, knowing perfectly well I had to go for the metaphorical jugular while the opportunity existed, "So you have a choice. You can rip away all the strings from these puppet masters who claim to be looking out for your best interest, but profit on your back. You can cast away Panacea to create something new. Maybe it will be famous, maybe it will not, but it will be
yours. Or you can maintain the status quo, and slowly waste away until eventually, that temptation to just give in happens. So yes, you have bad choices, but at least at the end of the day they will be
your choices."
I was met with silence from the other girl and I held a bated breath for what seemed like an eternity before she finally responded, her eyes flicking to me.
"Are you done? I mean, really, are you done? Because if I have to listen to any more platitudes wrapped in bullshit, I'll just go and get myself a fortune cookie."
Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that for a reaction, but then again, I wasn't expecting it to be that easy either. Maybe I was letting a bit of Konan's hubris influence me. But bitchy snark was not on my radar of responses.
My silence must have been telling, as she got to her feet.
"Thanks for wasting my time, then," she continued the snark, before turning towards the door and walking towards it, "I'll make sure to bill you for the hours."
Fuck it, I thought to myself,
cards on the table it is, I guess.
As her hand reached for the door, I spoke, knowing that I was crossing the Rubicon with this play.
"Healing isn't your power."
She froze, her hand wrapped around the knob, but I knew the hook was completely set. It wasn't something I
had wanted to say, because I had a feeling that revealing my deduction would be pulling the pin on a hand grenade, but I wasn't exactly left with a lot of choices here.
So I continued.
"Every power has a theme," I spoke carefully, gauging her reaction, "a logical set of parameters that revolve around a specific niche where no powers are truly the same. At first, I thought your power was regeneration, but it doesn't fit what you can do. Regeneration only restores back to a previous setting, it does not heal or discard defects within a patient. No, it's deeper than that. A regeneration power wouldn't be able to identify me as a cape. The only thing that could explain something like you would do is that you can diagnose and reshape biological matter. That you are a biotink-"
"Stop."
I knew I had hit the nail on the head with her response. While I hadn't been ironclad in my surety, what I did say fit with what I had seen and been able to research. However, as she turned around and began to walk back to the table, I knew we were nowhere finished yet. A biotinker was an
extremely dangerous threat at
minimum, and a death sentence if they were entrenched and provoked.
So when she retook her seat, I was already prepared for possible violence.
"So when you can't convince me naturally, you try to blackmail me?"
I blinked, not exactly expecting that type of reaction, then sighed as I realized what it could look like to a jaded cynic like Amy Dallon.
"No. It was never my intent to blackmail you, or even make it look like that."
"Excuse me if I don't believe you are doing this out of some sort of charity," she snarled, causing me to begin.
"You're right, it's not charity. I'm doing this largely for myself. Because I have two choices, one good, and one not so good. Either I try to talk you into a healthier lifestyle where I don't have to view you as a massive threat waiting to go off. Or I stand aside and watch you continue down this road, and sooner or later, there is going to come a time when you
will snap, and there will be no one there to save you from yourself."
The silence was deafening. I knew I was making things more dangerous by calling her a threat, but I had to drive the point home..
"I don't take any pleasure in saying that, Panacea," I continued after a moment, "but I have every intention of winning against the ABB and Empire Eighty-Eight, and I cannot afford a threat to my rear."
The rest remained unsaid, because it didn't take an idiot to know what the end result would be. But it nonetheless provided her a glimpse of what I was willing to do if I felt that it was necessary in the event I would have to act.
"But I'd rather not do that, Amy, because I believe you could be so much more than you are now. The only one who is holding you back is yourself."
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Somer's Rock could be best described as such a dingy, depressing hole-in-the-wall bar that if there were any sort of due diligence in this broken city, inspectors would have closed it on just the plethora of health and building code violations alone. Alas, this was Brockton Bay and between the damage wrought by cape battles, the exodus of business and people, and sheer criminality, it was better to have some tax income than following something as onerous as codes and rules.
It was in this lens that Somer's Rock also served as an excellent neutral meeting ground for the gangs of Brockton Bay. Because realistically, who would expect the leaders of the Empire-88 and Azn Bad Boyz to lower themselves to such depths, as was the case now?
The only difference now was that there was a third member at the roundtable, the one that had called it as Kaiser kept his gaze upon the figure clad in what he could only derisively describe as little more than a dressed-up gimp suit.
Coil had, up until the recent precipitous phone call, been at best regarded as a minor power in the grand scheme of the struggle for Brockton Bay by all intelligence reports. From all accounts, the man had no capes in his organization, instead appearing to rely only on non-cape mercenaries equipped with Toybox-issued weapons and gear. While this suggested that Coil had deep pockets, the fact that he rarely operated outside of his own territory had firmly downgraded the threat he represented in comparison to the others.
It seemed that estimation would have to be revisited after today.
"What are we waiting for," came the deep baritone voice of the third occupant of the table. Shirtless, adorned with tattoos over his chest and arms, and wearing a dragon-stylized mask, Lung struck an imposing figure upon those of lesser constitution, but to him he was nothing more than a jumped up thug who didn't know his place in the greater scheme of things.
The door to the bar opened, drawing his attention as a petite teenager in a black and lavender skintight outfit stepped into the bar, joined by another figure clad in black motorcycle leathers and a motorcycle helmet with visor sculpted to look like a skull.
Why are the Undersiders here, he had to wonder. If Coil was a low threat, then the Undersider's didn't even rate as anything more than a minor nuisance.
"Sorry for running late, but we had to avoid Tenshi on Sixth and Grover. She seems really keen on the brothel there," she started smirking towards Lung who had stiffened almost imperceptibly.
But before Lung could respond Coil cooly cut in, "I hired Tattletale here to provide analysis and consultation for the subject matter of this meeting: Tenshi has become a problem and she needs to be eliminated."
His eyebrow raised behind his mask. That was a rather bold declaration, one that was completely out of the ordinary for almost any situation. While there was nothing explicit in the Unwritten Rules that prevented targeting an individual hero for elimination, it was generally frowned upon as an unwanted escalation. It was why he had spent quite a lot of effort in making an example of the idiot that had killed, even sending Sarah Pelham a video of the man's interrogation and demise through backchannels in order to avoid any misunderstanding that none of what he had done had been authorized by him in order to prevent New Wave from retaliating beyond the principles that currently existed.
So there was obviously something going on that had Coil spooked insofar as to why he was making his statement.
But before he could ask why, the dismissive snort from Lung cut him off. But instead of saying anything more, it was Tattletale's head who snapped towards the Asian.
"Oh, and how has the last two weeks been looking for her, Lung? Having some issues finding one-"
"Enough Tattletale," Coil interrupted, not even looking at her as Lung had begun to rise, "you're not being paid to provoke Lung, remember that."
"Of course, boss" was her response, though she made no effort to hide the smirk she aimed towards the draconic-themed villain.
"Tattletale's sarcasm aside, Lung, there is a reason that neither you," the snake nodded in his direction, "nor Kaiser, have been successful in tracking down Tenshi."
"Why have you called us here, Coil," he asked, deciding to cut through the act, because it was obvious that Coil was building up to something, "you wouldn't be taking a risk like this without good reason. What has made you so concerned that you would reach out to us and call for a summit?"
"Five days ago, Tenshi approached Piggot with an offer to use her services in order to take advantage of your looming war over the Merchant's territory to launch their own offensive against the Empire-88 and Azn Bad Boyz while you are otherwise embroiled."
Again, Lung snorted, matching Kaiser's own thoughts on that. The last time that the Protectorate and PRT had tried to take the fight to the both of them, it had ended disastrously for them. Still, the fact that they were doing it again…
Tenshi, he realized, his frown deepening. Though, that didn't make sense on the surface. Tenshi was capable, certainly, but she wasn't some insurmountable threat. At best, in Brockton Bay, he would place her as a middling combatant, only good when she has the element of surprise on her side. Without that advantage she was nothing much. It was probably why she didn't attempt to fight any of them head on.
Even adding her to the ranks of the Protectorate, the disparity of power between Protectorate and the E88, or the even ABB, was not something that could be solved with the addition of an opportunistic fighter like Tenshi. The only way they would even possibly greenlight anything was if they believed that they had the advantage. And the only way they would have an advantage was if they believed they had a workable strategy.
So what was it that Tenshi offered them that they previously didn't have that they would take such a large risk? Especially at the urging of a newcomer that had only cut her teeth hitting soft–
"They're not going to attack us directly," he declared, his eyes narrowing even as Tattletale grinned even wider.
"Got it in one," she responded, "Tenshi's brilliant idea, which Piggot is buying into wholesale, is while you two are fighting it out for a few city blocks of turf, they're going to hit your storehouses, drug dens, brothels, and anything else that isn't bolted down and defended by capes."
This time there wasn't a snort from Lung, instead the draconic thug snarled, "They skulk in the shadows like the cowards they are. They-"
"It wouldn't work," Tattletale interrupted, "not even the Empire can cover all of its assets successfully and trying to move things will achieve nothing. Her clones will just track it all and you'll have achieved nothing except to provide her easy opportunities to hit you while you reorganize."
Before Lung could respond it was Coil's turn to cut the legs out from his argument, "While not as passionate as Tattletale here, I can confirm that is the most likely outcome. If anything, any defensive actions will only provide her the means to pick you apart at her leisure as she has been slowly doing since her debut. It is only made worse that Piggot is coordinating with Costa-Brown to bring in several powerful capes to assist, including Legend."
That was certainly not what he was expecting, and while Lung didn't seem too bothered by it, he knew that appearances could be deceiving. The Triumvirate could at least fight him to a standstill, and if Legend was being deployed to Brockton Bay, how long would it be before they just decided that the rest would be necessary to contain him.
The results would be devastating, both to the city, but also to the gangs themselves. A fight between the Triumvirate and Lung should be avoided at all costs. Let alone the specter of them hovering over the city would be like a Sword of Damocles over his own head if they decided to turn their attention towards the Empire Eighty-Eight.
"Then what do you suggest, Coil," he asked.
"Undermining the PRT and Protectorate is only going to delay the inevitable as Tattletale's analysis has highlighted the fact that Tenshi will only grow stronger to the point where she will no longer need the Protectorate for her plans. That is why she needs to be eliminated. Permanently."
It was then that a pair of large manila envelopes were placed upon the table and slid across both Lung and himself. Opening it up, he then pulled out the contents, and his eyebrows raised behind his mask.
"The reason that neither of you have been able to locate Tenshi is because she's a full-body Changer," the blond stated smugly, "Meet Taylor Hebert. The actual face behind the paper."
He was a prideful man, he could readily admit it. It took a prideful man to make the Empire Eighty-Eight and Medhall the powerhouses that they were. So when faced with the
idea that a fifteen year old was causing this much trouble was….irksome.
Though judging by the low growl that escaped the so-called Dragon of Kyushu's lips and the subtle temperature rising in the room, it was more than an annoyance to him.
"She dares!"
Ah, yes, that would be a sticking point for Lung, he realized, keeping his amusement hidden at the realization. It was one thing dealing with a race traitor, it's quite another for someone masquerading as a race they weren't, especially for someone who claimed they represented the entire loathsome race.
"You will provide me everything," Lung continued in a growl, eyes narrowing as he stared down Coil and Tattletale, "The Dragon will not allow-"
"You'll fail," Coil cut him off sharply, and the response was everything Kaiser expected as Lung slammed his hands down, rising to his feet at the audacity. While he didn't expect Lung to direct his ire towards him, he still braced himself in the event he was wrong.
"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, snake!"
"And you are not listening, Lung," was Coil's response, his hands steepling under his chin as he stared him down, "I'm merely pointing out the end result of what would happen if it was only ABB and yourself attempted to take down Tenshi."
For a moment, it looked like Lung would take exception to what the gimp-suit clad cape was saying, before he slowly lowered himself back down into his seat.
"Explain."
"Hebert's tactics are textbook guerilla warfare, she only strikes when she believes she has an advantage and she'll avoid any fight where she believes there is parity or a disadvantage. Any attempt by one of the gangs to fight with their full strength against her will only cause her to disengage and go to ground. If you want to take it out, then we all need to strike her at once and leave her no opportunity to react or escape."
"You're suggesting an alliance."
"Only until she is eliminated. She is the lynchpin to all of this. Without her, the entire plan will collapse into nothing," his head then swiveled back to Lung, "and, of course, you'll be allowed the killing blow."
On the surface, it sounded like a good idea, and looking over at Lung, the parasite looked satisfied with what was being offered. Then again, he was rather simplistic in his wants and needs, so getting the opportunity to make an example of a threat to his legitimacy was simply too irresistible.
Still, there was another elephant in the room, and he would be loath to get caught in it again if he could help it.
"There is a stark difference between a cape killed in the heat of the moment and a deliberately planned assassination," he started, making sure that he met the eyes of everyone assembled at the table, "because that is what everyone will see. While I do not have a problem with eliminating Hebert, I would be remiss not to point out the optics of this. There will be a blowback."
For a moment everything was silent, but Coil leaned forward just a small amount, and he could hear the smirk in the man's voice when he spoke.
"Leave that to me."
