Jumpchain stories often feature over-powered dimensional travellers visiting Worm and wowing everyone with their out of context abilities, exploiting their meta-knowledge to run rings around everyone. What happens when everyone in Worm knows exactly what to expect, however? This story follows what happens when a jumper and his companions insert into Worm having taken a drawback which gives everyone a full rundown on his capabilities. The Jumper is very powerful, but those powers are also very quantifiable.
Advent of the Jumper
- Thread starter Ebiris
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Hiatus
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Statistics (11 threadmarks, 37k words)
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Chapter 1
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
December 31, 2010
14:00
Armsmaster's bike purred as it crawled through the downtown streets of Brockton Bay, the noise a carefully modulated rumble that brought to mind Harley Davidson and Easy Rider, a steady and consistent sound disconnected from the actual functioning of the bike which could run quiet as a whisper when he wanted it to.
But for a hero, especially doing an afternoon patrol through the more prosperous parts of the city, being heard and seen and recognised was an important practical consideration. The time he'd spent calibrating the particular noise his bike emitted proved its worth in the positive reactions he saw from people out on the streets. Excited calls of, "Hey look, it's Armsmaster!" were met with nods and waves where he could spare the attention with his bike slow-rolling through traffic. Moving just enough that he wouldn't get swarmed with requests for selfies and autographs, but slow enough to show a little recognition.
It was the perfect essence of a flag-waving patrol. This time of day saw little criminal activity, and the time of year similarly tended towards being quiet. Brockton Bay was often unseasonably warm for the North-East coast, so Winter wasn't necessarily that much more sedate than Summer, but even so the few days between Christmas and New Year tended to put everyone in a bit of a lull.
He'd rather have been in his lab all the same. The constant cycle of iterating on his equipment waited for no man. But all the same a couple hours riding around the city after lunch wasn't the worst use of his time. It was still more refreshing than having to deal with the myriad administrative tasks that came with leading Protectorate ENE.
"Console to Armsmaster, come in," a voice crackled through the earpiece under his helmet, the high-pitched voice of one of the team's Wards greeting him. It might be a school holiday as evidenced by the teenagers he'd just passed, but that just gave Vista a chance to log in some duty hours during time she'd normally be in school. The girl had a commendable work ethic, and he foresaw a bright future for her in the Protectorate. He kept those thoughts to himself as he transmitted an acknowledgement.
"Emergency call came in from BBFD," she went on in a briskly officious tone characteristic of her console demeanour. "Car crash on Seventeenth Avenue. Paramedics are on site but they're going to need the jaws of life."
Naturally Armsmaster's halberd could function for that. Though he'd have to write Vista some feedback later on using the correct term of hydraulic rescue tool, as jaws of life was a registered brand name used by a specific company. He was sure she'd appreciate the correction, but he wasn't going to waste bandwidth correcting her on the radio. "On my way," he confirmed, briefly sounding the siren on his bike before he accelerated, weaving between traffic to get to the scene. While the police department often got territorial over jurisdiction when the Protectorate got involved, there was no such friction with other emergency services and he knew he wouldn't have to deal with grumpy firefighters even if he beat them to the scene.
The location was further inland from the bay, where the skyscrapers of downtown faded to smaller commercial lots, Armsmaster seeing an ambulance parked where a car had wrapped itself around a lamp-post, the body crumpled enough to suggest it had been going at some speed.
As he pulled his bike towards the scene, another figure dropped from the sky. Though there was little human about it, the sight of one of Brockton Bay's more unusual heroes didn't elicit much terror but rather pleased surprise from the paramedics and the bedraggled child who'd likely been extricated from the less damaged rear of the car.
Iron Fist, as he was known, a curious name for someone who appeared to be composed primarily of clay and jagged rock. He had the appearance of an enormous yellow pot with a red lid, bearing whorls and loops engraved around his sides with a more detailed tree like sigil embossed on the lid. From his sides stretched two arms made of said jagged rock, ending in clumsy looking three-fingered hands, while he stood on short stumpy legs with a similar number of toes.
No one was sure if it was some kind of tinker-tech suit, a projection, a changer form, or even if he was a particularly odd Case 53. Armsmaster was partial to the Case 53 theory, if only because of the accent.
"What ho! Quite a pickle you've got yourselves in here, lads. Never fear, shouldn't take more than a bit of elbow grease to get the young lady free."
He sounded like he was on the stage in a Shakespeare production with that deep and stentorian elocution, and most of Armsmaster's colleagues were certain he was putting the accent on. But he'd interacted with enough Case 53s to know they often did have unusual accents, and he'd run recordings of Iron Fist's speech through language analysis models that came back with enough consistency to show that if he was putting on the accent, he never slipped.
"Armsmaster on site, independent hero Iron Fist also on location," a quick update was given to Console, Vista giving her acknowledgement following procedure.
"Iron Fist," he put on a reassuring smile where people could see his mouth under the mask as he dismounted his bike. "You think you can open the vehicle up enough to allow a safe rescue?" The smile hid his displeasure at the other hero arriving just seconds before him, likely preventing him from being able to use the rescue tools built into his modular halberd.
"Armsmaster! Jolly good of you to show up!" despite the lack of any facial features to register expression, Iron Fist's voice at least sounded sincere and happy. "Why, with two of Brockton Bay's finest heroes here I dare say you couldn't ask to be in finer hands. Why don't I peel the car open, and you fellows pull the young lady out? It can't be comfortable staying long all cramped up like that!"
"Can you save my mom, Armsmaster, Iron Fist?" the boy fretting nearby despite the best efforts of the paramedics to keep him distracted asked plaintively.
There were no open flames, which was promising. The driver was another story, conscious but pale and bleeding from a head wound, while the way the car's body-work was twisted and pinched suggested severe leg injuries.
"We'll get her out of there, son. Don't you worry," he said, pitching his voice to sound slightly more gruff and paternal, which played well with the pre-teen male demographic.
And the older female demographics, which he preferred not to examine too closely. The only thing worse than knowing someone had authorised Armsmaster-branded underwear was having their sales figures listed in his monthly public relations metrics.
At least it appeared to work as the boy smiled hopefully up at him while he approached the car, Iron Fist shifting to make some room – he was almost as big as the vehicle himself. "Alright, ready chaps? Don't worry I'll hold her steady – trust me, I've got a good grip!" the other hero spoke despite a lack of mouth or speakers, voice simply emanating from his surface as one hand grasped the roof of the car while the other poked his fingers through the frame of the door as if it were made of cotton wool. With a downwards tug, the warped and twisted door unfurled itself down like a sardine can and was wrenched free of the body with no seeming effort.
Clumsy as Iron Fist looked, he was as steady as he boasted. Those short waddling legs didn't matter much when he could fly through the air at hundreds of miles an hour, and those long spindly arms were as strong as any high tier brute could hope for. It was the classic Alexandria package, wrapped up in one of the most bizarre physical packages Armsmaster had ever seen.
The driver's legs were trapped, certainly broken with what he could see of how they were bent under the deformed metal pressed down over the footwell.
"Hold on ma'am, we'll have you out in just a second," he said as he stepped in and braced his halberd into the void, the blade folding in on itself and the ramming attachment pressing up against the compacted in dashboard. Rather than hydraulic fluid, which would take up far too much space in his equipment, it operated on pure electrics driving the mechanical action. With a whump sound and the crunch of shifting metal and plastic, the ruined interior was pushed back, drawing a gasp from the driver.
Pulling his halberd out of the way, he and one of the paramedics then helped the dazed occupant out of the vehicle and onto a waiting stretcher, before she was transported into the ambulance amidst utterances of thanks and apologies for the accident happening in the first place.
Armsmaster duly recorded her words for the case of a possible negligent driving conviction.
"Alls well that ends well, eh chaps?" Iron Fist asked, crossing his arms at the front of his circular body. "Good thing I happened to be in the area, always happy to lend a hand!"
That was right, they were near the office of Jumpco, the company that sponsored Iron Fist to act as an independent hero. Corporate backed heroes weren't rare, though Jumpco was a unique case as it was a company ran by three rogues who used their powers for commercial benefit, which blurred the line between hero and rogue for all concerned.
Though it was probably the case that having a high-end Alexandria package on their payroll went a long way to keeping Jumpco from having any trouble with the city's gangs, not that it helped them much in dealing with the stifling bureaucracy surrounding commercial parahuman enterprises.
"Your assistance is much appreciated, Iron Fist," he said, holding out his gauntleted hand for a shake. There weren't many people around, though likely they had plenty of people watching from the windows of nearby office buildings, so it made for a good photo-op as well as simple outreach to a well regarded local hero.
Iron Fist's frustratingly not-iron hand enveloped his own and gave it a hearty shake mercifully without exercising any brute-rated strength, the inhuman Case 53 letting out a hearty laugh. "Think nothing of it, good sir! Why be it assisting others from traffic mishaps, rescuing kittens from trees, or indulging the thrill of combat against ruffians, no deed's too small for men of our calibre! I'm glad to find myself among like-minded warriors!"
He wasn't quite sure where Iron Fist had gotten all that from his expression of appreciation, but he gave his rehearsed smile and nodded all the same, reminding himself of the importance of maintaining positive relations with local heroes even if they weren't part of the Protectorate. "Hopefully we can see out the end of the year without any combat though. Are you going on a patrol yourself?" he asked, gathering some information and creating a rapport what with his own patrolling activities.
"Quite so my good man," Iron Fist let go of his hand and straightened up on his stumpy little legs. "Quick flight around the bay and a stop down at the Boardwalk to fly the flag and all that rot. Should any need the might of the Iron Fist to answer their plea, raise the cry and I promise I'll hear!"
That sounded scripted, not that Armsmaster was really one to judge. It wasn't a bad line either way. Wishing each other well, he watched Iron Fist rise into the air and jet off in a way that looked entirely unnatural given his shape and proportions. With the ambulance taking the mother and son duo off to the hospital, and the car left for a two truck to handle, he went and re-mounted his bike to resume his own patrol.
"Armsmaster to Console, incident resolved. Altering patrol route to pass by Jumpco offices," he reported in as he peeled back onto the road.
"Did something come up with Iron Fist?" Vista asked.
"Negative, he's gone on his own patrol around the bay he said. Just going to pass by while I'm in the area," he answered, receiving a confirmation as he set off, soon coming across the three storey grey-panelled structure with a sign outside it's car park declaring its name in a bold font, along with its three main services. Business consulting. Sensory experiences. Medical technology.
A thinker, a stranger, and a tinker. Three of the most potentially troublesome categories of parahumans… Master being the other one, and it was of course represented just as well by the benign term of 'sensory experiences'.
His eyes flicked to the corner of his heads-up display on instinct. A recurring pattern of words played out, one he'd memorised. He doubted the particular layout of his heads-up display could be replicated by someone altering his perceptions, but the code phrases layered an extra level of confirmation that he was seeing the things he should be seeing.
He'd met BB, the rogue with that dangerous power, only twice. Her name could have been the initials of the city they lived in, though she gave inconsistent answers whenever anyone asked. Her power let her completely control the senses of another, making them see and hear and smell and taste and touch whatever she wanted them to perceive. The potential uses of that power were boundless and horrifying, yet as part of Jumpco she contented herself with selling aforementioned 'sensory experiences'.
It reminded him of an old science fiction story he'd read as a kid. We Can Remember It for You Wholesale. While she couldn't pack a vacation to Mars in a few minutes, as perception of time remained constant, all sorts of fantastic and dangerous experiences could be safely simulated, with the only limit being the imagination.
Their commercials promised extreme sports taken beyond the extreme, the experience of being a parahuman with incredible powers, interacting with fantastic or extinct creatures, visiting locations straight out of fiction and fantasy.
There were also salacious rumours of more deviant experiences she could simulate. Frankly if that was the worst she did with such a power, they could consider themselves lucky.
The one behind the Medical Technology part of Jumpco's portfolio was concerning in her own way of course. Dea Saint was a bio-tinker, a specialisation most unfairly known for its poster child in the Slaughterhouse Nine. She was far easier to get along with than BB, though perhaps that may simply be that as a fellow tinker they had more to talk about.
Though really, BB was just that unpleasant. Her cloyingly sweet attitude was as fake as such things could be, obvious even to someone like him. Dea Saint on the other hand was clearly earnest and sincere in her desire to use her tinker power to help people.
Unfortunately she found herself constantly stymied by bureaucracy and lobbying from existing medical firms that didn't appreciate allegedly unreliable tinker-tech competition. So far Dea Saint had not yet been able to bring a single product to market, and was effectively being kept afloat by the other members of the collective, subsidised like Iron Fist and not even having so much as a kitten rescued from a tree to show for it.
He remembered the driver from earlier and her broken legs. A long recovery and course of physiotherapy awaited her. If she was lucky she might get seen by Panacea and instantly healed by a striker power. But the potential of a tinker power to help her remained out of reach. He considered it a terrible waste. At least if Dea Saint joined the Protectorate she'd be able to use her power to support her teammates, there was no telling what kind of cybernetic enhancements he might be able to make in collaboration with someone like her.
That left the last member of the group. It's leader, Advent, with a seemingly innocuous thinker power relating to timing and scheduling. That he was in charge with such a seemingly low-key power was a testament to the effectiveness of thinkers, or else it came down to interpersonal dynamics within the group that went beyond their individual powers.
He was at least in demand for his services, with a raft of testimonials from companies that had seen their bottom line improved from putting his recommendations into practice. There had been some lobbying within the PRT to have him consult on their own schedules, but so far nothing had come of it. Director Piggot deemed it too great an information security risk. Besides, the PRT had plenty of directly employed thinkers it could call on for such matters.
Armsmaster had still met him, as with the other three, in a professional capacity. He came across as friendly but overshadowed by the more bombastic personalities of BB and Iron Fist, for all that those two still deferred to him in matters of their organisation's direction. Perhaps that was the value of having a thinker power to back up your ideas.
He finished ruminating on the group as his bike turned around the corner of the lot their building was situated on. The car park was mostly empty, expected given it was a Friday on new year's eve, although he did spot several figures leaving and heading into a white van with the company branding on it, one of them wearing a yellow hard hat, though they were too far away to make out much more detail. Still, he felt their eyes on him and gave a wave in reply before continuing on down the road away from the rogue company's office, his perceptions as far as he was able to confirm having gone without interference.
January 1, 2011
00:00
"Happy new year, Colin," the voice of a valued colleague was a hardly unwelcome interruption to Armsmaster's work as he refined the code for his combat prediction software, the sound of fireworks from the city dimly heard through the walls as he worked in his lab at the Protectorate headquarters.
"Thanks Dragon, still three more hours left for you?" he asked, smiling at the sight of her computer generated face, the agoraphobic woman conferencing with him from her base in Vancouver so they could collaborate. The same models that he used for combat prediction could be used to predict other larger scale events, and they were both highly interested in the potential of using it to better stay on top of S-class threats.
"Just a little bit longer in 2010 over here, yes," she confirmed amiably before her face shifted to an expression of surprise and alarm. "Colin, I think you need to see this, it just hit every PRT, Protectorate, and Guild message server at the same time… and it's on PHO as well."
Armsmaster hardly cared about what the drama-seeking posters of PHO were obsessing over, but bringing up his own email he could see a message had just come into his inbox to match the one Dragon was bringing up on their shared workspace screen. The sender was blank, though he didn't doubt Dragon was capable of tracing it so he left that to her as his eyes read over the subject line.
An Overview of the Jumper Advent.
14:00
Armsmaster's bike purred as it crawled through the downtown streets of Brockton Bay, the noise a carefully modulated rumble that brought to mind Harley Davidson and Easy Rider, a steady and consistent sound disconnected from the actual functioning of the bike which could run quiet as a whisper when he wanted it to.
But for a hero, especially doing an afternoon patrol through the more prosperous parts of the city, being heard and seen and recognised was an important practical consideration. The time he'd spent calibrating the particular noise his bike emitted proved its worth in the positive reactions he saw from people out on the streets. Excited calls of, "Hey look, it's Armsmaster!" were met with nods and waves where he could spare the attention with his bike slow-rolling through traffic. Moving just enough that he wouldn't get swarmed with requests for selfies and autographs, but slow enough to show a little recognition.
It was the perfect essence of a flag-waving patrol. This time of day saw little criminal activity, and the time of year similarly tended towards being quiet. Brockton Bay was often unseasonably warm for the North-East coast, so Winter wasn't necessarily that much more sedate than Summer, but even so the few days between Christmas and New Year tended to put everyone in a bit of a lull.
He'd rather have been in his lab all the same. The constant cycle of iterating on his equipment waited for no man. But all the same a couple hours riding around the city after lunch wasn't the worst use of his time. It was still more refreshing than having to deal with the myriad administrative tasks that came with leading Protectorate ENE.
"Console to Armsmaster, come in," a voice crackled through the earpiece under his helmet, the high-pitched voice of one of the team's Wards greeting him. It might be a school holiday as evidenced by the teenagers he'd just passed, but that just gave Vista a chance to log in some duty hours during time she'd normally be in school. The girl had a commendable work ethic, and he foresaw a bright future for her in the Protectorate. He kept those thoughts to himself as he transmitted an acknowledgement.
"Emergency call came in from BBFD," she went on in a briskly officious tone characteristic of her console demeanour. "Car crash on Seventeenth Avenue. Paramedics are on site but they're going to need the jaws of life."
Naturally Armsmaster's halberd could function for that. Though he'd have to write Vista some feedback later on using the correct term of hydraulic rescue tool, as jaws of life was a registered brand name used by a specific company. He was sure she'd appreciate the correction, but he wasn't going to waste bandwidth correcting her on the radio. "On my way," he confirmed, briefly sounding the siren on his bike before he accelerated, weaving between traffic to get to the scene. While the police department often got territorial over jurisdiction when the Protectorate got involved, there was no such friction with other emergency services and he knew he wouldn't have to deal with grumpy firefighters even if he beat them to the scene.
The location was further inland from the bay, where the skyscrapers of downtown faded to smaller commercial lots, Armsmaster seeing an ambulance parked where a car had wrapped itself around a lamp-post, the body crumpled enough to suggest it had been going at some speed.
As he pulled his bike towards the scene, another figure dropped from the sky. Though there was little human about it, the sight of one of Brockton Bay's more unusual heroes didn't elicit much terror but rather pleased surprise from the paramedics and the bedraggled child who'd likely been extricated from the less damaged rear of the car.
Iron Fist, as he was known, a curious name for someone who appeared to be composed primarily of clay and jagged rock. He had the appearance of an enormous yellow pot with a red lid, bearing whorls and loops engraved around his sides with a more detailed tree like sigil embossed on the lid. From his sides stretched two arms made of said jagged rock, ending in clumsy looking three-fingered hands, while he stood on short stumpy legs with a similar number of toes.
No one was sure if it was some kind of tinker-tech suit, a projection, a changer form, or even if he was a particularly odd Case 53. Armsmaster was partial to the Case 53 theory, if only because of the accent.
"What ho! Quite a pickle you've got yourselves in here, lads. Never fear, shouldn't take more than a bit of elbow grease to get the young lady free."
He sounded like he was on the stage in a Shakespeare production with that deep and stentorian elocution, and most of Armsmaster's colleagues were certain he was putting the accent on. But he'd interacted with enough Case 53s to know they often did have unusual accents, and he'd run recordings of Iron Fist's speech through language analysis models that came back with enough consistency to show that if he was putting on the accent, he never slipped.
"Armsmaster on site, independent hero Iron Fist also on location," a quick update was given to Console, Vista giving her acknowledgement following procedure.
"Iron Fist," he put on a reassuring smile where people could see his mouth under the mask as he dismounted his bike. "You think you can open the vehicle up enough to allow a safe rescue?" The smile hid his displeasure at the other hero arriving just seconds before him, likely preventing him from being able to use the rescue tools built into his modular halberd.
"Armsmaster! Jolly good of you to show up!" despite the lack of any facial features to register expression, Iron Fist's voice at least sounded sincere and happy. "Why, with two of Brockton Bay's finest heroes here I dare say you couldn't ask to be in finer hands. Why don't I peel the car open, and you fellows pull the young lady out? It can't be comfortable staying long all cramped up like that!"
"Can you save my mom, Armsmaster, Iron Fist?" the boy fretting nearby despite the best efforts of the paramedics to keep him distracted asked plaintively.
There were no open flames, which was promising. The driver was another story, conscious but pale and bleeding from a head wound, while the way the car's body-work was twisted and pinched suggested severe leg injuries.
"We'll get her out of there, son. Don't you worry," he said, pitching his voice to sound slightly more gruff and paternal, which played well with the pre-teen male demographic.
And the older female demographics, which he preferred not to examine too closely. The only thing worse than knowing someone had authorised Armsmaster-branded underwear was having their sales figures listed in his monthly public relations metrics.
At least it appeared to work as the boy smiled hopefully up at him while he approached the car, Iron Fist shifting to make some room – he was almost as big as the vehicle himself. "Alright, ready chaps? Don't worry I'll hold her steady – trust me, I've got a good grip!" the other hero spoke despite a lack of mouth or speakers, voice simply emanating from his surface as one hand grasped the roof of the car while the other poked his fingers through the frame of the door as if it were made of cotton wool. With a downwards tug, the warped and twisted door unfurled itself down like a sardine can and was wrenched free of the body with no seeming effort.
Clumsy as Iron Fist looked, he was as steady as he boasted. Those short waddling legs didn't matter much when he could fly through the air at hundreds of miles an hour, and those long spindly arms were as strong as any high tier brute could hope for. It was the classic Alexandria package, wrapped up in one of the most bizarre physical packages Armsmaster had ever seen.
The driver's legs were trapped, certainly broken with what he could see of how they were bent under the deformed metal pressed down over the footwell.
"Hold on ma'am, we'll have you out in just a second," he said as he stepped in and braced his halberd into the void, the blade folding in on itself and the ramming attachment pressing up against the compacted in dashboard. Rather than hydraulic fluid, which would take up far too much space in his equipment, it operated on pure electrics driving the mechanical action. With a whump sound and the crunch of shifting metal and plastic, the ruined interior was pushed back, drawing a gasp from the driver.
Pulling his halberd out of the way, he and one of the paramedics then helped the dazed occupant out of the vehicle and onto a waiting stretcher, before she was transported into the ambulance amidst utterances of thanks and apologies for the accident happening in the first place.
Armsmaster duly recorded her words for the case of a possible negligent driving conviction.
"Alls well that ends well, eh chaps?" Iron Fist asked, crossing his arms at the front of his circular body. "Good thing I happened to be in the area, always happy to lend a hand!"
That was right, they were near the office of Jumpco, the company that sponsored Iron Fist to act as an independent hero. Corporate backed heroes weren't rare, though Jumpco was a unique case as it was a company ran by three rogues who used their powers for commercial benefit, which blurred the line between hero and rogue for all concerned.
Though it was probably the case that having a high-end Alexandria package on their payroll went a long way to keeping Jumpco from having any trouble with the city's gangs, not that it helped them much in dealing with the stifling bureaucracy surrounding commercial parahuman enterprises.
"Your assistance is much appreciated, Iron Fist," he said, holding out his gauntleted hand for a shake. There weren't many people around, though likely they had plenty of people watching from the windows of nearby office buildings, so it made for a good photo-op as well as simple outreach to a well regarded local hero.
Iron Fist's frustratingly not-iron hand enveloped his own and gave it a hearty shake mercifully without exercising any brute-rated strength, the inhuman Case 53 letting out a hearty laugh. "Think nothing of it, good sir! Why be it assisting others from traffic mishaps, rescuing kittens from trees, or indulging the thrill of combat against ruffians, no deed's too small for men of our calibre! I'm glad to find myself among like-minded warriors!"
He wasn't quite sure where Iron Fist had gotten all that from his expression of appreciation, but he gave his rehearsed smile and nodded all the same, reminding himself of the importance of maintaining positive relations with local heroes even if they weren't part of the Protectorate. "Hopefully we can see out the end of the year without any combat though. Are you going on a patrol yourself?" he asked, gathering some information and creating a rapport what with his own patrolling activities.
"Quite so my good man," Iron Fist let go of his hand and straightened up on his stumpy little legs. "Quick flight around the bay and a stop down at the Boardwalk to fly the flag and all that rot. Should any need the might of the Iron Fist to answer their plea, raise the cry and I promise I'll hear!"
That sounded scripted, not that Armsmaster was really one to judge. It wasn't a bad line either way. Wishing each other well, he watched Iron Fist rise into the air and jet off in a way that looked entirely unnatural given his shape and proportions. With the ambulance taking the mother and son duo off to the hospital, and the car left for a two truck to handle, he went and re-mounted his bike to resume his own patrol.
"Armsmaster to Console, incident resolved. Altering patrol route to pass by Jumpco offices," he reported in as he peeled back onto the road.
"Did something come up with Iron Fist?" Vista asked.
"Negative, he's gone on his own patrol around the bay he said. Just going to pass by while I'm in the area," he answered, receiving a confirmation as he set off, soon coming across the three storey grey-panelled structure with a sign outside it's car park declaring its name in a bold font, along with its three main services. Business consulting. Sensory experiences. Medical technology.
A thinker, a stranger, and a tinker. Three of the most potentially troublesome categories of parahumans… Master being the other one, and it was of course represented just as well by the benign term of 'sensory experiences'.
His eyes flicked to the corner of his heads-up display on instinct. A recurring pattern of words played out, one he'd memorised. He doubted the particular layout of his heads-up display could be replicated by someone altering his perceptions, but the code phrases layered an extra level of confirmation that he was seeing the things he should be seeing.
He'd met BB, the rogue with that dangerous power, only twice. Her name could have been the initials of the city they lived in, though she gave inconsistent answers whenever anyone asked. Her power let her completely control the senses of another, making them see and hear and smell and taste and touch whatever she wanted them to perceive. The potential uses of that power were boundless and horrifying, yet as part of Jumpco she contented herself with selling aforementioned 'sensory experiences'.
It reminded him of an old science fiction story he'd read as a kid. We Can Remember It for You Wholesale. While she couldn't pack a vacation to Mars in a few minutes, as perception of time remained constant, all sorts of fantastic and dangerous experiences could be safely simulated, with the only limit being the imagination.
Their commercials promised extreme sports taken beyond the extreme, the experience of being a parahuman with incredible powers, interacting with fantastic or extinct creatures, visiting locations straight out of fiction and fantasy.
There were also salacious rumours of more deviant experiences she could simulate. Frankly if that was the worst she did with such a power, they could consider themselves lucky.
The one behind the Medical Technology part of Jumpco's portfolio was concerning in her own way of course. Dea Saint was a bio-tinker, a specialisation most unfairly known for its poster child in the Slaughterhouse Nine. She was far easier to get along with than BB, though perhaps that may simply be that as a fellow tinker they had more to talk about.
Though really, BB was just that unpleasant. Her cloyingly sweet attitude was as fake as such things could be, obvious even to someone like him. Dea Saint on the other hand was clearly earnest and sincere in her desire to use her tinker power to help people.
Unfortunately she found herself constantly stymied by bureaucracy and lobbying from existing medical firms that didn't appreciate allegedly unreliable tinker-tech competition. So far Dea Saint had not yet been able to bring a single product to market, and was effectively being kept afloat by the other members of the collective, subsidised like Iron Fist and not even having so much as a kitten rescued from a tree to show for it.
He remembered the driver from earlier and her broken legs. A long recovery and course of physiotherapy awaited her. If she was lucky she might get seen by Panacea and instantly healed by a striker power. But the potential of a tinker power to help her remained out of reach. He considered it a terrible waste. At least if Dea Saint joined the Protectorate she'd be able to use her power to support her teammates, there was no telling what kind of cybernetic enhancements he might be able to make in collaboration with someone like her.
That left the last member of the group. It's leader, Advent, with a seemingly innocuous thinker power relating to timing and scheduling. That he was in charge with such a seemingly low-key power was a testament to the effectiveness of thinkers, or else it came down to interpersonal dynamics within the group that went beyond their individual powers.
He was at least in demand for his services, with a raft of testimonials from companies that had seen their bottom line improved from putting his recommendations into practice. There had been some lobbying within the PRT to have him consult on their own schedules, but so far nothing had come of it. Director Piggot deemed it too great an information security risk. Besides, the PRT had plenty of directly employed thinkers it could call on for such matters.
Armsmaster had still met him, as with the other three, in a professional capacity. He came across as friendly but overshadowed by the more bombastic personalities of BB and Iron Fist, for all that those two still deferred to him in matters of their organisation's direction. Perhaps that was the value of having a thinker power to back up your ideas.
He finished ruminating on the group as his bike turned around the corner of the lot their building was situated on. The car park was mostly empty, expected given it was a Friday on new year's eve, although he did spot several figures leaving and heading into a white van with the company branding on it, one of them wearing a yellow hard hat, though they were too far away to make out much more detail. Still, he felt their eyes on him and gave a wave in reply before continuing on down the road away from the rogue company's office, his perceptions as far as he was able to confirm having gone without interference.
January 1, 2011
00:00
"Happy new year, Colin," the voice of a valued colleague was a hardly unwelcome interruption to Armsmaster's work as he refined the code for his combat prediction software, the sound of fireworks from the city dimly heard through the walls as he worked in his lab at the Protectorate headquarters.
"Thanks Dragon, still three more hours left for you?" he asked, smiling at the sight of her computer generated face, the agoraphobic woman conferencing with him from her base in Vancouver so they could collaborate. The same models that he used for combat prediction could be used to predict other larger scale events, and they were both highly interested in the potential of using it to better stay on top of S-class threats.
"Just a little bit longer in 2010 over here, yes," she confirmed amiably before her face shifted to an expression of surprise and alarm. "Colin, I think you need to see this, it just hit every PRT, Protectorate, and Guild message server at the same time… and it's on PHO as well."
Armsmaster hardly cared about what the drama-seeking posters of PHO were obsessing over, but bringing up his own email he could see a message had just come into his inbox to match the one Dragon was bringing up on their shared workspace screen. The sender was blank, though he didn't doubt Dragon was capable of tracing it so he left that to her as his eyes read over the subject line.
An Overview of the Jumper Advent.
An Overview of the Jumper Advent
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This document serves as an overview of the individual known as Jason Scott, also known by the cape identity 'Advent', founding member of the parahuman business concern 'Jumpco' located in Brockton Bay, Massachusetts. For the remainder of this document he will be referred to using his cape alias of Advent.
While born in Brockton Bay and having lived there for his whole life, at the time of this document's release Advent has acquired the memories, abilities, and resources of several past existences lived on worlds separate from Earth Bet. He is a 'Jumper', a being who 'jumps' across realities into fresh lives in new worlds usually every ten years. Every time a new reality is jumped into, the Jumper acquires a new set of abilities and resources specific to that reality. Advent's jump in this reality is expected to end on 12/31/2021.
Historical Overview
Advent was born on 01/04/1999 on a version of Earth with no parahumans, and lived until 03/10/2025 before being selected as a Jumper. He had few noteworthy accomplishments and earned a living as a freelance artist, with most of his income coming from commissions of furry fetish artwork. For a full breakdown of his life, please refer to Appendix 1.A Mundane.
After being chosen as a Jumper, Advent's next life began on the world of Abeir-Toril, where he hatched from an egg as a Time Dragon. Much of his time in this world was spent masquerading as a typical 'adventurer', the term for individuals who fight monsters and explore dungeons as usually depicted in role playing games like Dungeons & Dragons. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.B D&D – The Dragons.
The following life took place on a version of Earth with no parahumans, but a historical tradition of magic that was kept secret from the mundane world. In this world Advent was a Magus, a practitioner of magic of no repute. He took part in a ritual known as the Holy Grail War, were magi would summon legendary heroes to battle for a presumed omnipotent wish-granting artifact known as the Holy Grail. His Servant in this ritual was BB, a virtual being from an alternate future made real for the purposes of the ritual, who continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.C Fate/Stay Night.
The next life was on a version of Earth with no parahumans broadly similar to Advent's original world. In this world Advent was the leader of a Japanese crime syndicate known as the Ryuzo Family. Taking the Ryuzo Family into more legal fields of construction, real estate, and entertainment, he spearheaded the dissolution of many organised crime groups which were no longer able to operate effectively in the modern world. In the course of this he befriended Goro Majima, leader of another organised crime group turned commercial enterprise, who continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.D Yakuza.
The life following was set on the world of Genkai, what could be considered a 'fantasy' world similar to Abeir-Toril. In this world Advent took the role of a local deity, who sponsored adventurers who would fight monsters and explore the singular Dungeon that had spawned monsters since ancient times. Growing a small but powerful familia, the term for such groups operating under the auspices of a local god, Advent played an important role in securing the peace of the city above the Dungeon. One member of his familia, the famous healer Airmid Teasanare, continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.E Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon.
The life immediately previous to the current one took place in the Lands Between. Another fantastical realm where the previous civilization had been destroyed in an event known as 'The Shattering' and demigods vied for the throne of the Elden Lord to restore the world in their own images. Advent was one such demigod, and in defeating some and forging alliances with others, was able to bring order to the Lands Between and begin its recovery from the Shattering. One ally he made along the way, the warrior jar Iron Fist Alexander, continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.F Elden Ring.
Note that while the appendixes will refer to items and resources Advent has available, their inclusion should not be considered exhaustive as they are only mentioned when relevant to detailing events or tactics, while the primary purpose of this document is to detail Advent's innate abilities.
Personality Profile
Advent generally presents himself with a humble self-effacing attitude towards others as a means to defuse conflict and 'keep himself real' as with the inhuman perspective of his other lives and the disconnect from the world engendered by the ten year time limit in any given world it would be easy for him to slip into solipsist megalomania.
He lives his life under the (correct) impression that every action and thought are being scrutinised by an unseen audience. Frequently he will refer to this audience, addressing them as 'Chat', and seeks to perform for them under the (correct) belief that the purpose of his journey between worlds is for their entertainment. This leads him to insert himself into situations of significance both on a global and intimate scale, as such events form a source of 'content' for his audience. This conflicts with his own desire for a quiet and unassuming life, and often causes him to detach from events after the initial surge of interest. It is predicted that reading this document will make Advent 'follow through' more judiciously, as he is quite receptive to criticism.
Viewing the world through the lens of a fictional story which he has already read, Advent has preconceived notions regarding many people he deems of 'narrative significance' which can colour interactions with them for good and for ill regardless of someone's public persona or attitude taken towards Advent in turn.
Owing to his wide variety of powers and physical prowess, Advent takes a cavalier attitude towards violent confrontation. So long as no one else is endangered, he typically limits his abilities in order to make a conflict more interesting and to reserve abilities as surprises for true threats. Despite this document detailing his abilities in sufficient detail to ruin said surprise, it is predicted he will maintain this attitude. However if Advent believes an opponent to be a genuine threat to himself, or a threat to innocents, he will execute surprise attacks with overwhelming force in order to end conflict without risk.
Politically, Advent's beliefs hew left-libertarian, and although he holds some authoritarian sympathies in extremis, he holds no respect for right wing views. In particular he despises extreme right wing adherents and 'Nazis' who he views as easy and unsympathetic targets for him to exercise his powers on.
In terms of morality, Advent is motivated to leverage his powers and resources to altruistically help others. He has little faith in laws and government, viewing them as inherently self-serving protectors of a status quo that benefits the few. Due to this, he will take matters into his own hands to right perceived wrongs without deference to legitimate authorities, and will break laws he sees as immoral with few reservations.
Powers
Advent's powers and abilities will be broken down according to the standard Parahuman Response Team power classification system. Threat numbers will not be provided as this is not an official PRT document, the classification is simply used for ease of categorisation. Capabilities within the realm of a talented ordinary human are excluded.
Refer to Appendix 2.A Tactics for a detailed overview of how these are used in typical scenarios Advent is likely to face or has previously demonstrated.
Mover
At his basic unaugmented speed, Advent can run at roughly 40mph for extended periods up to several hours. In his dragon form he is capable of flight at a maximum of 280mph with similar effort. His unaugmented reaction time is 0.1 milliseconds.
Time Control. Advent has a limited capacity to adjust his personal time-flow. Once every day he can pull on future time, effectively allowing him to do two things at once. For a total of 30 seconds a day, which need not be consecutive, he can modestly accelerate his personal time relative to others, allowing him to move and act more swiftly.
Time Stop. At any time, though he must wait between 12 and 24 seconds between uses, Advent can speed himself up to such a degree that the rest of the world is effectively frozen in time. This state can be maintained for 42 subjective seconds, and during it Advent cannot interact with living beings or their held belongings, but can otherwise move freely and interact with the environment.
Time Travel. Advent can freely travel back to a specific period 390 million years in the past. While in the past time continues to progress at a 1:1 rate with the present time, and upon returning from the past he always arrives at the same spot he left. He can take as many passengers as are able to make physical contact with him at the moment of transit, which takes 60 seconds of preparation.
Teleport. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent and up to 3 people and their belongings to travel up to 1,000 miles instantly. Advent must have a clear idea of the intended destination, with a small chance of missing the target that grows inversely with the clarity of his mental image. Certain parahuman powers can prevent this spell from succeeding.
Expeditious Retreat. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell boosts the speed of Advent or anyone touched by 3mph for 10 minutes.
Shaker
Black Mud. Advent can generate from his body a magical black mud composed of 'All the World's Evils'. This can be produced in vast quantities, sufficient to cover a major metropolitan area within an hour. Exposure to the mud has a corrosive effect on the sanity of humans, quickly rendering most people catatonic or psychotic. Additionally the mud can be shaped into various configurations to use as a physical weapon.
Rubber Fists. This ability effects every other one, and is placed in the Shaker category due to the potential range it can have between melee and ranged attacks. Fundamentally Advent can guarantee that no matter how devastating his attacks are, they only do as much damage as he wishes. From full lethality down to leaving a foe passed out but otherwise unharmed. This cannot be changed by anyone other than Advent's own decision, even under the influence of all-consuming Master effects.
Light. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates a light source attached to any physical object that glows like a torch and lasts for 100 minutes.
Mending. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell perfectly repairs any broken object up to a mass of 1lb.
Solid Fog. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates a zone of fog anywhere within 200 feet, measuring a 20 foot radius and a height of 20 feet. The fog blocks vision past 5 feet, and reduces the speed of anything within to half a mile per hour. It can last up to 10 minutes, although winds above 31mph will quickly disperse it.
Gradation Air. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This spell creates objects that Advent can visualise the construction of. The size generally can't exceed that of a European auto-mobile, and these objects can't last longer than approximately 10 minutes.
Brute
In his human form, Advent can carry up to 10 tons of weight without strain, and 25 at his maximum effort. These values change to 120 and 300 tons respectively in his dragon form though this is more due to superior leverage as Advent's base strength and striking power are the same in both forms.
While toughness is difficult to fully quantify, weapons exerting less impact than high calibre firearms will not so much as scratch Advent unless they are magically enchanted to a level impractical for anyone reading this document. While harm can still be inflicted, Advent is considered likely to survive even the close proximity detonation of a nuclear device in the high kiloton range.
Advent is completely immune to all naturally occurring diseases and poisons, as well as any kind of effect that would induce paralysis, sleep, or slow his relative passage of time.
In terms of environmental hazards, Advent is unbothered by voltages of electricity below 300, acids above PH 1, temperatures between -100F and 300F, and sounds up to 180 decibels. While levels above these ranges can potentially cause harm, they must still deal with his innate toughness and regenerative ability.
Said regenerative ability is sufficient for Advent to completely recover from near fatal wounds such as bisection within three hours.
Black Mud. An additional facet of the Black Mud is that any parahuman effect that seeks to control or read Advent's mind must go through a portion of 'All the World's Evils' to reach him mentally. This is sufficient to block powers of limited throughput, and even ones capable of affecting vast numbers of people simultaneously can take longer to prove effective and subject their users to thinker headaches.
Heat. When engaged in combat, Advent builds up a resource known as Heat. This is visible as a glowing blue aura around him, and improves all of his physical abilities to a small degree, and can be expended to significantly increase the potency of a single physical attack. When his Heat is maximised, which can be seen by the aura turning red, he can expend it on Extreme Heat mode which massively increases speed and strength, and ensures he cannot die under absolutely any circumstances. Extreme Heat can last for 28 seconds.
Water Breathing. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent or anyone touched to breathe water for up to 20 hours, the duration divided by the number of creatures the spell benefits when cast.
Endure Elements. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent or anyone touched to be unbothered by temperatures between -50F and 140F for up to 24 hours.
Advent can draw sustenance from eating any physical matter, even rocks.
Breaker
Resurrection. Should Advent actually be killed, his body and belongings swiftly disintegrate and within a day he and his belongings will reappear in a place of safety. Killing him multiple times in quick succession makes subsequent resurrection more taxing and take longer, and it is theoretically possible to exhaust him enough to prevent any further resurrections but this is speculative as it depends on his own willpower.
Master
Black Mud. The earlier mentioned Black Mud can be used to create minions of sub-human intelligence that are capable of following simple orders. Because they can be formed into varying shapes their specific physical capabilities are variable, with previously demonstrated examples listed in Appendix 3.C Familiars.
Hypnosis. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This magic can be used on groups of people at a time, and requires both eye contact and hearing Advent's instructions to work, but can place people into a suggestible state where short-term memory can be adjusted and orders implanted. All parahumans are naturally able to overcome this due to the function of how their powers work, otherwise exceptional willpower is required to resist it.
Unseen Servant. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates an invisible and shapeless projection lasting 10 hours capable of performing simple chores and repetitive activities. It must remain within 50 feet of Advent or ceases to exist.
Frightful Presence. Any time Advent physically attacks or performs a dramatically imposing action, opponents who witness it within 90 feet of Advent become unsettled with fear, those with little experience in battle likely to simply flee in terror while the more experienced become unnerved for 24 to 36 seconds.
Tinker
No applicable powers.
Blaster
Sting. This is Advent's parahuman power, and thus interacts in predictable ways with Trump effects. Unfolding a touched object (up to the size of a large truck) though nigh infinite dimensions, it becomes capable of ignoring all forces that would effect it, such as physical resistance or durability. Interaction with objects time-locked by other parahuman powers cancels both effects.
Dragon breath. Note Advent can use this regardless of his current form. Comes in two forms, both of which are functionally invisible but for their effect. A straight line projected 120 feet ages everything within by 30 years – no time passes, starvation does not occur, the physical body simply degrades as if it had become 30 years older. A 60 foot cone ejects creatures and their belongings (objects and terrain are unaffected) from the time-stream for 18 seconds, effectively travelling them forward through time. After using either version, Advent cannot use it again for 6 to 24 seconds. The ageing effect can theoretically be resisted with sufficient toughness, though this level is unlikely to be found outside of high-end brutes. The time travel effect similarly can be resisted with sufficient willpower.
Acid Splash. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell projects a small volume of acid up to 50 feet away, functionally equivalent to battery acid.
Blindness/Deafness. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell renders a subject within 200 feet either blind or deaf as a permanent magical curse.
Thinker
Though it is difficult to quantify, Advent's native intelligence, reasoning speed, and ability to make deductions places him more in the realm of a parahuman with a Thinker power than even the top percentile of geniuses.
Eyesight. Advent possesses visual senses that are considerably greater than the norm for humans. His eyesight is comparable to that of a bird of prey, able to judge distance with superb accuracy and see well even in his peripheral vision. Bright light doesn't impede his vision, and in low-light conditions he can see five times as well as a normal human can. Even in complete darkness he can see up to 240 feet, albeit this vision does not discern colour. This darkvision can be granted to others for up to 10 hours, see Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic though this version only extends to 60 feet.
Blindsense. Even without looking (and overcoming certain Stranger effects that do not remove the parahuman from physical reality), Advent can detect anything within 60 feet that is not blocked by physical barriers.
Hearing. Advent can easily hear a casually spoken conversation within 700 feet under normal ambient noise conditions without specifically paying attention.
Polyglot. Advent can speak and understand all languages.
Draconic Appraisal. Advent is able to identify the exact value of anything he looks at with just a glance.
Sense Motive. With a short interaction Advent can determine a person's overall ethical and moral framework on the spectrums of law vs chaos and good vs evil.
Alarm. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell wards a 20 foot radius area for up to 20 hours. Any time a creature the size of a rat or larger enters the area it can either mentally alert Advent so long as he is within one mile, or creates an audible noise in the vicinity.
True Strike. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell provides a moment of brief precognition solely focused around the next potential attack Advent might make.
Locate Object. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent to locate the nearest example of any object he can clearly visualise, so long as it is within 800 feet. Objects encased within lead cannot be detected, and the spell lasts for 10 minutes.
Sting. This is Advent's parahuman power, and thus interacts in predictable ways with Trump effects. The secondary aspect of Sting gives Advent a near perfect sense of timing and trajectories.
Stat Sheet. Anyone Advent encounters, he can perceive their fundamental abilities in a similar fashion as seen in a role playing game. Demonstration of further skills or equipment adds more detail to the mental sheet as it constantly updates.
Dynamic Intro. Whenever a physical altercation begins with Advent, his subjective time briefly slows down and he is provided with some background information and the rough power level of his foe in comparison with himself.
Financial Wizard. Advent's understanding of financial markets could be considered a thinker power in terms of its scope and effectiveness.
Mountains of Paperwork. Simply by touching a physical document with a pen, or touching the keyboard while an electronic one is loaded on a device's memory, Advent can complete any kind of formulaic or administrative document instantly as if he had carefully considered and taken his time over the document.
Divine Mirror. Functioning on a similar basis to the Teleport spell of having a clear idea of the destination, Advent can create a one-way window allowing visual and auditory monitoring of any location in the world. The presence of the window on the receiving end is not detectable with human senses or modern technology, although many parahuman powers and tinker-tech devices will be able to detect it.
This is my Story. A supernatural sense alerts Advent should anyone he has an emotional bond with be in trouble, though it does not give any concrete details on the nature of the trouble.
A Father to your Familia. Much like the earlier mentioned Financial Wizard trait, Advent's organisational skills are on a similar level and can be applied to almost any field or scale.
Opportunist. What could be considered a sixth sense for seizing opportunities, momentary vulnerabilities or helpful coincidences are always immediately clear to Advent when they are presented.
Striker
Black Blade of Destined Death. Typically sealed inside of Advent's body, this can be unlocked to provide a significant increase to all of his physical abilities and allow the production of energy such as red beams, flames, and blades which are all extremely deadly. The reason this power is listed here and not as Blaster power is because of the sword it produces as its final aspect. A melee weapon, it erodes defences and imposes the inevitability of Death upon anything struck.
Even without unlocking the seal, Advent can apply the energy of Destined Death to his physical attacks, though at the level of the previously described energy manifestations and not the sword.
Greater Magic Weapon. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell can be cast on any weapon (or up to 50 projectiles), modestly improving its function in all parameters for up to 10 hours.
Tiger Drop. See Appendix 2.A Tactics for a more thorough detailing of Advent's martial arts capabilities, but this technique deserves special mention. As a counter-attack against any melee attack that requires precision timing, Advent can perform the Tiger Drop which in addition to being a powerful blow by itself, negates all damage that the countered attack would have inflicted.
Changer
Master Shapeshifter. Advent can freely change his shape to that of a human, animal, or even a fantastic monster. There are too many to list in this document, but in addition to creatures found in nature refer to Appendix 3.D Shapeshifting Forms for a more complete list of the possibilities.
Trump
Blessing of the Falna. Via a brief ritual, Advent can grant a status known as 'falna' to an individual. This immediately increases their physical capabilities to the level of a high end athlete. Those who are already physically fit receive a smaller relative gain but still come out stronger than those who are less able.
Over time by performing actions that push their limits, individuals with falna build up a store of potential power, which Advent can unlock with further rituals to improve the physical boosts granted by the falna, potentially unlocking a variety of superhuman abilities. See Appendix 3.E Falna for examples.
Dimensional Anchor. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell must strike a target with a physical ray within 200 feet. A target struck becomes incapable of using any parahuman power or tinker-tech device that would teleport them or move them to or through another dimension for 10 minutes.
Prestidigitation. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell has a variety of minor effects, and is thus considered a Trump effect for categorisation. It can slowly lift 1 pound of material. It can colour, clean, or soil items in a 1 foot cube each round. It can chill, warm, or flavour 1 pound of non-living material.
Reinforcement. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This magic can be used to boost Advent's physical abilities in any metric – from strength, to speed, to eyesight, or hearing. He can generally augment a function by 50% before risking injury from over-saturating it with magical energy. Objects can be reinforced to boost their function such as the sharpness of a blade or an object's overall durability, with the amount they can be boosted by varying by their inherent quality and sturdiness before they risk destruction from over-saturation.
Best in the Business. Anyone working directly under Advent will find their skills in whatever job they are doing expand to put them among the elite within a week, and continue to grow at a still noticeable rate after that. The effect is slower and less pronounced for those working on the fringes of his organisation but still apparent. This skill acquisition is permanent and does not go away if they stop working for Advent.
Stranger
Advent is specifically immune to the precognition of Contessa, The Simurgh, and Scion. Other forms of precognition are not guaranteed to work or fail regarding him, as he can alter a projected future if he applies meaningful effort to it.
Message. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates allows up to 10 people within 200 feet of Advent to hear any words whispered by any individual connected to the spell for up to 100 minutes. The effect is blocked by 3 feet of wood or dirt, 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of metal, or any amount of lead.
Invisibility. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell renders Advent or a creature he touches invisible to all forms of visual detection for 10 minutes. Any attempt by an invisible creature to cause direct harm to another ends the spell prematurely.
Major Image. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates an illusion within 800 feet which can be arranged in any configuration made up of 11 connected cubes 10 foot across on each side. The illusion covers visual, auditory, and thermal senses, and remains as long as Advent concentrates on it plus an additional 18 seconds.
Leave me Alone. Barring a pressing need or provocation (which this document presents), people will generally leave Advent alone and unbothered.
While born in Brockton Bay and having lived there for his whole life, at the time of this document's release Advent has acquired the memories, abilities, and resources of several past existences lived on worlds separate from Earth Bet. He is a 'Jumper', a being who 'jumps' across realities into fresh lives in new worlds usually every ten years. Every time a new reality is jumped into, the Jumper acquires a new set of abilities and resources specific to that reality. Advent's jump in this reality is expected to end on 12/31/2021.
Historical Overview
Advent was born on 01/04/1999 on a version of Earth with no parahumans, and lived until 03/10/2025 before being selected as a Jumper. He had few noteworthy accomplishments and earned a living as a freelance artist, with most of his income coming from commissions of furry fetish artwork. For a full breakdown of his life, please refer to Appendix 1.A Mundane.
After being chosen as a Jumper, Advent's next life began on the world of Abeir-Toril, where he hatched from an egg as a Time Dragon. Much of his time in this world was spent masquerading as a typical 'adventurer', the term for individuals who fight monsters and explore dungeons as usually depicted in role playing games like Dungeons & Dragons. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.B D&D – The Dragons.
The following life took place on a version of Earth with no parahumans, but a historical tradition of magic that was kept secret from the mundane world. In this world Advent was a Magus, a practitioner of magic of no repute. He took part in a ritual known as the Holy Grail War, were magi would summon legendary heroes to battle for a presumed omnipotent wish-granting artifact known as the Holy Grail. His Servant in this ritual was BB, a virtual being from an alternate future made real for the purposes of the ritual, who continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.C Fate/Stay Night.
The next life was on a version of Earth with no parahumans broadly similar to Advent's original world. In this world Advent was the leader of a Japanese crime syndicate known as the Ryuzo Family. Taking the Ryuzo Family into more legal fields of construction, real estate, and entertainment, he spearheaded the dissolution of many organised crime groups which were no longer able to operate effectively in the modern world. In the course of this he befriended Goro Majima, leader of another organised crime group turned commercial enterprise, who continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.D Yakuza.
The life following was set on the world of Genkai, what could be considered a 'fantasy' world similar to Abeir-Toril. In this world Advent took the role of a local deity, who sponsored adventurers who would fight monsters and explore the singular Dungeon that had spawned monsters since ancient times. Growing a small but powerful familia, the term for such groups operating under the auspices of a local god, Advent played an important role in securing the peace of the city above the Dungeon. One member of his familia, the famous healer Airmid Teasanare, continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.E Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon.
The life immediately previous to the current one took place in the Lands Between. Another fantastical realm where the previous civilization had been destroyed in an event known as 'The Shattering' and demigods vied for the throne of the Elden Lord to restore the world in their own images. Advent was one such demigod, and in defeating some and forging alliances with others, was able to bring order to the Lands Between and begin its recovery from the Shattering. One ally he made along the way, the warrior jar Iron Fist Alexander, continued to accompany Advent into subsequent jumps. For a full breakdown of this life, please refer to Appendix 1.F Elden Ring.
Note that while the appendixes will refer to items and resources Advent has available, their inclusion should not be considered exhaustive as they are only mentioned when relevant to detailing events or tactics, while the primary purpose of this document is to detail Advent's innate abilities.
Personality Profile
Advent generally presents himself with a humble self-effacing attitude towards others as a means to defuse conflict and 'keep himself real' as with the inhuman perspective of his other lives and the disconnect from the world engendered by the ten year time limit in any given world it would be easy for him to slip into solipsist megalomania.
He lives his life under the (correct) impression that every action and thought are being scrutinised by an unseen audience. Frequently he will refer to this audience, addressing them as 'Chat', and seeks to perform for them under the (correct) belief that the purpose of his journey between worlds is for their entertainment. This leads him to insert himself into situations of significance both on a global and intimate scale, as such events form a source of 'content' for his audience. This conflicts with his own desire for a quiet and unassuming life, and often causes him to detach from events after the initial surge of interest. It is predicted that reading this document will make Advent 'follow through' more judiciously, as he is quite receptive to criticism.
Viewing the world through the lens of a fictional story which he has already read, Advent has preconceived notions regarding many people he deems of 'narrative significance' which can colour interactions with them for good and for ill regardless of someone's public persona or attitude taken towards Advent in turn.
Owing to his wide variety of powers and physical prowess, Advent takes a cavalier attitude towards violent confrontation. So long as no one else is endangered, he typically limits his abilities in order to make a conflict more interesting and to reserve abilities as surprises for true threats. Despite this document detailing his abilities in sufficient detail to ruin said surprise, it is predicted he will maintain this attitude. However if Advent believes an opponent to be a genuine threat to himself, or a threat to innocents, he will execute surprise attacks with overwhelming force in order to end conflict without risk.
Politically, Advent's beliefs hew left-libertarian, and although he holds some authoritarian sympathies in extremis, he holds no respect for right wing views. In particular he despises extreme right wing adherents and 'Nazis' who he views as easy and unsympathetic targets for him to exercise his powers on.
In terms of morality, Advent is motivated to leverage his powers and resources to altruistically help others. He has little faith in laws and government, viewing them as inherently self-serving protectors of a status quo that benefits the few. Due to this, he will take matters into his own hands to right perceived wrongs without deference to legitimate authorities, and will break laws he sees as immoral with few reservations.
Powers
Advent's powers and abilities will be broken down according to the standard Parahuman Response Team power classification system. Threat numbers will not be provided as this is not an official PRT document, the classification is simply used for ease of categorisation. Capabilities within the realm of a talented ordinary human are excluded.
Refer to Appendix 2.A Tactics for a detailed overview of how these are used in typical scenarios Advent is likely to face or has previously demonstrated.
Mover
At his basic unaugmented speed, Advent can run at roughly 40mph for extended periods up to several hours. In his dragon form he is capable of flight at a maximum of 280mph with similar effort. His unaugmented reaction time is 0.1 milliseconds.
Time Control. Advent has a limited capacity to adjust his personal time-flow. Once every day he can pull on future time, effectively allowing him to do two things at once. For a total of 30 seconds a day, which need not be consecutive, he can modestly accelerate his personal time relative to others, allowing him to move and act more swiftly.
Time Stop. At any time, though he must wait between 12 and 24 seconds between uses, Advent can speed himself up to such a degree that the rest of the world is effectively frozen in time. This state can be maintained for 42 subjective seconds, and during it Advent cannot interact with living beings or their held belongings, but can otherwise move freely and interact with the environment.
Time Travel. Advent can freely travel back to a specific period 390 million years in the past. While in the past time continues to progress at a 1:1 rate with the present time, and upon returning from the past he always arrives at the same spot he left. He can take as many passengers as are able to make physical contact with him at the moment of transit, which takes 60 seconds of preparation.
Teleport. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent and up to 3 people and their belongings to travel up to 1,000 miles instantly. Advent must have a clear idea of the intended destination, with a small chance of missing the target that grows inversely with the clarity of his mental image. Certain parahuman powers can prevent this spell from succeeding.
Expeditious Retreat. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell boosts the speed of Advent or anyone touched by 3mph for 10 minutes.
Shaker
Black Mud. Advent can generate from his body a magical black mud composed of 'All the World's Evils'. This can be produced in vast quantities, sufficient to cover a major metropolitan area within an hour. Exposure to the mud has a corrosive effect on the sanity of humans, quickly rendering most people catatonic or psychotic. Additionally the mud can be shaped into various configurations to use as a physical weapon.
Rubber Fists. This ability effects every other one, and is placed in the Shaker category due to the potential range it can have between melee and ranged attacks. Fundamentally Advent can guarantee that no matter how devastating his attacks are, they only do as much damage as he wishes. From full lethality down to leaving a foe passed out but otherwise unharmed. This cannot be changed by anyone other than Advent's own decision, even under the influence of all-consuming Master effects.
Light. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates a light source attached to any physical object that glows like a torch and lasts for 100 minutes.
Mending. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell perfectly repairs any broken object up to a mass of 1lb.
Solid Fog. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates a zone of fog anywhere within 200 feet, measuring a 20 foot radius and a height of 20 feet. The fog blocks vision past 5 feet, and reduces the speed of anything within to half a mile per hour. It can last up to 10 minutes, although winds above 31mph will quickly disperse it.
Gradation Air. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This spell creates objects that Advent can visualise the construction of. The size generally can't exceed that of a European auto-mobile, and these objects can't last longer than approximately 10 minutes.
Brute
In his human form, Advent can carry up to 10 tons of weight without strain, and 25 at his maximum effort. These values change to 120 and 300 tons respectively in his dragon form though this is more due to superior leverage as Advent's base strength and striking power are the same in both forms.
While toughness is difficult to fully quantify, weapons exerting less impact than high calibre firearms will not so much as scratch Advent unless they are magically enchanted to a level impractical for anyone reading this document. While harm can still be inflicted, Advent is considered likely to survive even the close proximity detonation of a nuclear device in the high kiloton range.
Advent is completely immune to all naturally occurring diseases and poisons, as well as any kind of effect that would induce paralysis, sleep, or slow his relative passage of time.
In terms of environmental hazards, Advent is unbothered by voltages of electricity below 300, acids above PH 1, temperatures between -100F and 300F, and sounds up to 180 decibels. While levels above these ranges can potentially cause harm, they must still deal with his innate toughness and regenerative ability.
Said regenerative ability is sufficient for Advent to completely recover from near fatal wounds such as bisection within three hours.
Black Mud. An additional facet of the Black Mud is that any parahuman effect that seeks to control or read Advent's mind must go through a portion of 'All the World's Evils' to reach him mentally. This is sufficient to block powers of limited throughput, and even ones capable of affecting vast numbers of people simultaneously can take longer to prove effective and subject their users to thinker headaches.
Heat. When engaged in combat, Advent builds up a resource known as Heat. This is visible as a glowing blue aura around him, and improves all of his physical abilities to a small degree, and can be expended to significantly increase the potency of a single physical attack. When his Heat is maximised, which can be seen by the aura turning red, he can expend it on Extreme Heat mode which massively increases speed and strength, and ensures he cannot die under absolutely any circumstances. Extreme Heat can last for 28 seconds.
Water Breathing. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent or anyone touched to breathe water for up to 20 hours, the duration divided by the number of creatures the spell benefits when cast.
Endure Elements. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent or anyone touched to be unbothered by temperatures between -50F and 140F for up to 24 hours.
Advent can draw sustenance from eating any physical matter, even rocks.
Breaker
Resurrection. Should Advent actually be killed, his body and belongings swiftly disintegrate and within a day he and his belongings will reappear in a place of safety. Killing him multiple times in quick succession makes subsequent resurrection more taxing and take longer, and it is theoretically possible to exhaust him enough to prevent any further resurrections but this is speculative as it depends on his own willpower.
Master
Black Mud. The earlier mentioned Black Mud can be used to create minions of sub-human intelligence that are capable of following simple orders. Because they can be formed into varying shapes their specific physical capabilities are variable, with previously demonstrated examples listed in Appendix 3.C Familiars.
Hypnosis. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This magic can be used on groups of people at a time, and requires both eye contact and hearing Advent's instructions to work, but can place people into a suggestible state where short-term memory can be adjusted and orders implanted. All parahumans are naturally able to overcome this due to the function of how their powers work, otherwise exceptional willpower is required to resist it.
Unseen Servant. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates an invisible and shapeless projection lasting 10 hours capable of performing simple chores and repetitive activities. It must remain within 50 feet of Advent or ceases to exist.
Frightful Presence. Any time Advent physically attacks or performs a dramatically imposing action, opponents who witness it within 90 feet of Advent become unsettled with fear, those with little experience in battle likely to simply flee in terror while the more experienced become unnerved for 24 to 36 seconds.
Tinker
No applicable powers.
Blaster
Sting. This is Advent's parahuman power, and thus interacts in predictable ways with Trump effects. Unfolding a touched object (up to the size of a large truck) though nigh infinite dimensions, it becomes capable of ignoring all forces that would effect it, such as physical resistance or durability. Interaction with objects time-locked by other parahuman powers cancels both effects.
Dragon breath. Note Advent can use this regardless of his current form. Comes in two forms, both of which are functionally invisible but for their effect. A straight line projected 120 feet ages everything within by 30 years – no time passes, starvation does not occur, the physical body simply degrades as if it had become 30 years older. A 60 foot cone ejects creatures and their belongings (objects and terrain are unaffected) from the time-stream for 18 seconds, effectively travelling them forward through time. After using either version, Advent cannot use it again for 6 to 24 seconds. The ageing effect can theoretically be resisted with sufficient toughness, though this level is unlikely to be found outside of high-end brutes. The time travel effect similarly can be resisted with sufficient willpower.
Acid Splash. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell projects a small volume of acid up to 50 feet away, functionally equivalent to battery acid.
Blindness/Deafness. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell renders a subject within 200 feet either blind or deaf as a permanent magical curse.
Thinker
Though it is difficult to quantify, Advent's native intelligence, reasoning speed, and ability to make deductions places him more in the realm of a parahuman with a Thinker power than even the top percentile of geniuses.
Eyesight. Advent possesses visual senses that are considerably greater than the norm for humans. His eyesight is comparable to that of a bird of prey, able to judge distance with superb accuracy and see well even in his peripheral vision. Bright light doesn't impede his vision, and in low-light conditions he can see five times as well as a normal human can. Even in complete darkness he can see up to 240 feet, albeit this vision does not discern colour. This darkvision can be granted to others for up to 10 hours, see Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic though this version only extends to 60 feet.
Blindsense. Even without looking (and overcoming certain Stranger effects that do not remove the parahuman from physical reality), Advent can detect anything within 60 feet that is not blocked by physical barriers.
Hearing. Advent can easily hear a casually spoken conversation within 700 feet under normal ambient noise conditions without specifically paying attention.
Polyglot. Advent can speak and understand all languages.
Draconic Appraisal. Advent is able to identify the exact value of anything he looks at with just a glance.
Sense Motive. With a short interaction Advent can determine a person's overall ethical and moral framework on the spectrums of law vs chaos and good vs evil.
Alarm. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell wards a 20 foot radius area for up to 20 hours. Any time a creature the size of a rat or larger enters the area it can either mentally alert Advent so long as he is within one mile, or creates an audible noise in the vicinity.
True Strike. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell provides a moment of brief precognition solely focused around the next potential attack Advent might make.
Locate Object. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell allows Advent to locate the nearest example of any object he can clearly visualise, so long as it is within 800 feet. Objects encased within lead cannot be detected, and the spell lasts for 10 minutes.
Sting. This is Advent's parahuman power, and thus interacts in predictable ways with Trump effects. The secondary aspect of Sting gives Advent a near perfect sense of timing and trajectories.
Stat Sheet. Anyone Advent encounters, he can perceive their fundamental abilities in a similar fashion as seen in a role playing game. Demonstration of further skills or equipment adds more detail to the mental sheet as it constantly updates.
Dynamic Intro. Whenever a physical altercation begins with Advent, his subjective time briefly slows down and he is provided with some background information and the rough power level of his foe in comparison with himself.
Financial Wizard. Advent's understanding of financial markets could be considered a thinker power in terms of its scope and effectiveness.
Mountains of Paperwork. Simply by touching a physical document with a pen, or touching the keyboard while an electronic one is loaded on a device's memory, Advent can complete any kind of formulaic or administrative document instantly as if he had carefully considered and taken his time over the document.
Divine Mirror. Functioning on a similar basis to the Teleport spell of having a clear idea of the destination, Advent can create a one-way window allowing visual and auditory monitoring of any location in the world. The presence of the window on the receiving end is not detectable with human senses or modern technology, although many parahuman powers and tinker-tech devices will be able to detect it.
This is my Story. A supernatural sense alerts Advent should anyone he has an emotional bond with be in trouble, though it does not give any concrete details on the nature of the trouble.
A Father to your Familia. Much like the earlier mentioned Financial Wizard trait, Advent's organisational skills are on a similar level and can be applied to almost any field or scale.
Opportunist. What could be considered a sixth sense for seizing opportunities, momentary vulnerabilities or helpful coincidences are always immediately clear to Advent when they are presented.
Striker
Black Blade of Destined Death. Typically sealed inside of Advent's body, this can be unlocked to provide a significant increase to all of his physical abilities and allow the production of energy such as red beams, flames, and blades which are all extremely deadly. The reason this power is listed here and not as Blaster power is because of the sword it produces as its final aspect. A melee weapon, it erodes defences and imposes the inevitability of Death upon anything struck.
Even without unlocking the seal, Advent can apply the energy of Destined Death to his physical attacks, though at the level of the previously described energy manifestations and not the sword.
Greater Magic Weapon. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell can be cast on any weapon (or up to 50 projectiles), modestly improving its function in all parameters for up to 10 hours.
Tiger Drop. See Appendix 2.A Tactics for a more thorough detailing of Advent's martial arts capabilities, but this technique deserves special mention. As a counter-attack against any melee attack that requires precision timing, Advent can perform the Tiger Drop which in addition to being a powerful blow by itself, negates all damage that the countered attack would have inflicted.
Changer
Master Shapeshifter. Advent can freely change his shape to that of a human, animal, or even a fantastic monster. There are too many to list in this document, but in addition to creatures found in nature refer to Appendix 3.D Shapeshifting Forms for a more complete list of the possibilities.
Trump
Blessing of the Falna. Via a brief ritual, Advent can grant a status known as 'falna' to an individual. This immediately increases their physical capabilities to the level of a high end athlete. Those who are already physically fit receive a smaller relative gain but still come out stronger than those who are less able.
Over time by performing actions that push their limits, individuals with falna build up a store of potential power, which Advent can unlock with further rituals to improve the physical boosts granted by the falna, potentially unlocking a variety of superhuman abilities. See Appendix 3.E Falna for examples.
Dimensional Anchor. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell must strike a target with a physical ray within 200 feet. A target struck becomes incapable of using any parahuman power or tinker-tech device that would teleport them or move them to or through another dimension for 10 minutes.
Prestidigitation. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell has a variety of minor effects, and is thus considered a Trump effect for categorisation. It can slowly lift 1 pound of material. It can colour, clean, or soil items in a 1 foot cube each round. It can chill, warm, or flavour 1 pound of non-living material.
Reinforcement. See Appendix 3.B Magecraft. This magic can be used to boost Advent's physical abilities in any metric – from strength, to speed, to eyesight, or hearing. He can generally augment a function by 50% before risking injury from over-saturating it with magical energy. Objects can be reinforced to boost their function such as the sharpness of a blade or an object's overall durability, with the amount they can be boosted by varying by their inherent quality and sturdiness before they risk destruction from over-saturation.
Best in the Business. Anyone working directly under Advent will find their skills in whatever job they are doing expand to put them among the elite within a week, and continue to grow at a still noticeable rate after that. The effect is slower and less pronounced for those working on the fringes of his organisation but still apparent. This skill acquisition is permanent and does not go away if they stop working for Advent.
Stranger
Advent is specifically immune to the precognition of Contessa, The Simurgh, and Scion. Other forms of precognition are not guaranteed to work or fail regarding him, as he can alter a projected future if he applies meaningful effort to it.
Message. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates allows up to 10 people within 200 feet of Advent to hear any words whispered by any individual connected to the spell for up to 100 minutes. The effect is blocked by 3 feet of wood or dirt, 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of metal, or any amount of lead.
Invisibility. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell renders Advent or a creature he touches invisible to all forms of visual detection for 10 minutes. Any attempt by an invisible creature to cause direct harm to another ends the spell prematurely.
Major Image. See Appendix 3.A Vancian Magic. This spell creates an illusion within 800 feet which can be arranged in any configuration made up of 11 connected cubes 10 foot across on each side. The illusion covers visual, auditory, and thermal senses, and remains as long as Advent concentrates on it plus an additional 18 seconds.
Leave me Alone. Barring a pressing need or provocation (which this document presents), people will generally leave Advent alone and unbothered.
Last edited:
Chapter 2
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
December 31, 2010
23:55
Airmid clapped politely as Minami finished singing. With so many Japanese employees in Jumpco it was no wonder their New Years Eve party featured lots of karaoke, but fortunately that was probably the last song for a little bit as they were approaching the countdown. The best that could be said for the man's performance was that it was very spirited.
Really it was a struggle not to get drawn in by looking at his face, not out of any desire but rather because he had so many piercings it made her power act up with ideas, both in terms of fixing the tissue damage and in employing externally pierced devices to augment or take over various bodily functions.
She didn't exactly get many opportunities to flex her power, unfortunately. Even having the cure for cancer, the holy grail of modern medical science, she couldn't even run experimental trials on humans. She had the healthiest collection of lab mice in the world, but 'tinker-tech is too unreliable and unproven to use on humans'.
Picking up her glass of rum and coke from the bar she sipped it to distract herself from her spiralling thoughts, only spurring another tangent. Despite being twenty five she still got carded every time, her short stature and youthful face meaning she still looked like a teenager. And not the kind of 'teens' played in TV dramas by actors in their thirties. It meant she didn't drink much, though she wasn't so inexperienced as to dislike the taste. Even if her power whispered to her of the strain absorption of alcohol would place on her liver and ways she could improve it to better handle that, and even process things far more toxic and deadly than mere alcohol.
Every day dealing with procedural roadblocks increased the temptation to do a little self-experimentation that much further.
Wincing more at the direction of her thoughts than the taste, Airmid walked across the floor of the bar they'd rented out for the evening towards the windows. High up above the Boardwalk, it offered a commanding view across the bay, and the festivities down below where masses of people had gathered to welcome 2011. It also came with easy access to a freight lift which had allowed Alexander to join them. He didn't drink, but he'd given a fantastic performance of My Way when handed the microphone earlier.
The glass was reflective enough to see herself as well as the Atlantic Ocean and pale blue glow of the Protectorate headquarters. Dressed up as Dea Saint, even though the room was full only of Jumpco staff, she had her mask on to cover the upper half of her face. At one point she'd considered something like a plague doctor's beaked mask, but it just looked too creepy so instead she had a rather bland white mask that covered her from nose to brow, her blonde hair held up in a neat bun underneath her nurse cap and matching the white smock she wore with peppermint green stripes.
Professional looking but with a touch of whimsy to better mark her as a cape and not just a normal nurse. Of course not too much whimsy. Alice in Wonderland dresses and white pinafores and horrifyingly whimsical art was what most people thought of when hearing of bio-tinkers. The fact that Airmid looked young for her age was nothing more than genetics and lifestyle, but it was another unfortunate point of comparison.
She disliked feeling so melancholy. They were on the cusp of a new year, she had a power which could change the world for the better and free millions from pain and despair… but it felt like she was in a holding pattern. Just passing the time without achieving anything, squandering her potential. Did her friends feel the same?
Looking back across the party, she saw Sakura hanging off of Jason as she usually did while their leader held court among their other employees. Jason – or Advent when on the clock, a dull pun there considering his publicised powers, was in costume as well. He was a big man, powerfully built, the sort who could walk down any of Brockton Bay's streets without fear. His costume may have elicited some mockery though, a steampunk ensemble that was basically a Sherlock Holmes outfit covered in gears and doodads, the deerstalker hat swapped out for a bowler hat which of course had a clock built into it.
The whole thing felt tiring to look at, it was so busy, and the wraparound visor he used to cover his eyes just didn't match, looking too sleek and modern. Still, he argued that it worked well as a costume because it distracted the eye and made it so people wouldn't be able to pick out personally identifiable details.
Distraction was clearly the name of the game when it came to Sakura's costume as well. With an Eidolon style blank mirrored face-mask and hood covering her head, her body was sheathed in a scandalously tight black leather bodysuit that left a diamond shaped cutout on her chest in what could only be called a boob window.
Airmid had seen how the sausage was made though. The amount of talcum powder Sakura went through to squeeze herself into that thing was unreal. And while it couldn't be brought to market, Airmid had tinkered up a specially formulated powder of her own which helped her friend's skin breathe and obviated the risk of ovarian cancer she was exposed to by using store bought product.
But of course it was her unproven tinker-tech which was the danger.
She took deeper gulp of her drink to distract herself from unhelpfully spiralling thoughts. There were too many things she could help with, too many dangers blithely accepted as normal because of inertia and corporate greed. It was too easy to run across reminders and all it did was make her unhappy.
Besides, the countdown was starting. The TVs in the corners were showing the Times Square festivities, and from far down below the roar of the crowd dimly transmitted through the window. Putting a smile on her face, Airmid stepped closer to where everyone was clustered around and calling out, her own voice added to the chorus. "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"
"Happy new year!"
It wasn't the expected resounding of their voices as one. Some got through the whole sequence, some cut themselves off partway through, some never even started. With some dry amusement she noticed Sakura had pulled off her mask and was halfway towards a kiss with Jason before they'd all stopped what they were doing, the deluge of memory and power hitting them.
It let her see Sakura's pretty face somehow transition into airbrushed supermodel perfection, which she probably could have managed with her own knowledge of cosmetic surgery. Yet it wasn't uncanny, because that was the version of her she knew. BB, vice captain of the Ryuzo Familia, a familia she'd joined up with during Orario's dark period. It was all coming back to her, just as unsettling now as it had been when Airmid the needle knight of Miquella and wielder of unalloyed gold recovered her memories of life as a healer and adventurer in Orario and came out of her pointless pining for the lost Empyrean to embark on the quest for the Elden Ring. Indeed she could hardly talk about BB's divine level beauty without hypocrisy considering she herself held a measure of Miquella's own divine charm in her looks.
It was a bracing experience, but her mind quickly found itself wrapping around the reality of her multiple lives. She really had been in a holding pattern, her life up until now on Earth Bet simply marking time for the moment when the 'story' properly began. They couldn't have her upset the status quo before chapter one, after all.
"Well look at all your faces! I've gotta take Drop-In more often if that's what I look like getting all those memories dumped in my head," the abrasive almost greasy sounding voice of someone who'd literally just appeared in their midst rang out.
"Boss, you're back!" Nishida, the man with the curious habit of always wearing a yellow hard hat, called out excitedly amidst the other employees of Jumpco that were in fact members of the Ryuzo Clan and Majima Construction, not quite companions given the privilege of perks and backgrounds, but still along for the journey, and still in some cases higher level adventurers than she was.
"Aha, the esteemed Mad Hound of Malenia has returned to us at last!" Alexander let out his own sound of approval as everyone beheld the one who'd taken a different route than the rest of them for this jump in order to serve as a hidden weapon. Wearing a tacky snake-skin jacket and leather pants that exposed his chest and the edges of a tattoo that wrapped all around his back, his neatly parted black hair framing an intense looking and handsome mature face. A black patch covered one eye, with a silver snake design on it, and Airmid felt her power whispering solutions. It wouldn't even be a hard job to clone Goro Majima's eye and implant it back in the socket good as new.
"Yer all actin' like I've been gone, I just saw all your ugly mugs a minute ago," Majima huffed at the excited greetings, his accent thickening as he put emotional distance between them all. Rubbing his leather-gloved hands together, he looked around the room and then over the bay where colourful fireworks were shooting up to mark the new year. "Gotta say, feels nice to be back in the twenty first century, even if it's a fucked up comic book world."
Airmid had thought it might be exciting to see the kind of world her companions had talked about coming from, but now she had memories of growing up in it, bouncing between apathetic foster carers, working in an unsanitary burger joint, struggling against bureaucracy even after she triggered with a power that could have helped so many people… the shine had worn off. Even if she knew she could do better now, this 'modern' world had already done its best to grind her down.
She must have worn her feelings on her face, because Jason has come closer and was looking at her, having taken off his goofy looking visor so she could see his greyish-green eyes. "You doing okay, Airmid?"
She took a breath, and her hair changed colour to its natural silver, unnatural as it might look in this world. She could see BB had already let her hood down and turned her hair from brown to purple as well, her eyes having turned a matching shade which she knew was reflected in her own. "Just thinking that living in the twenty first century has taken its toll."
"Yeah," he nodded in commiseration, "It has its upsides, but there's a reason you didn't hear me yearning for it in Danmachi or Elden Ring. Still, we can fix things now. Your tinker power and the tinker-tech data core we bought can do a lot of good."
It always felt a little odd when he called it Danmachi. Not Genkai, not Orario. Danmachi. The fan name for a story about her world, a story in which she herself was only a bit player. She put the thought aside and asked, "Where is that data core?" Her parahuman power was part of her backstory here, as was her costume which she was wearing right now and knew exactly how to make despite it not really being part of her tinker speciality. Highly resistant to damage, as protective as clothing could be short of something like what Gallant and Armsmaster wore… though in BB's case her chest was left quite vulnerable. Not that it mattered now, all of them were effectively mid-tier brutes by local classification, thanks to their adventurer levels and the runes they'd empowered themselves with in Elden Ring.
"It'll be back at the lair," Jason answered. "Too disruptive to have as part of my backstory."
"Speaking of disruption, Senpai…" BB's voice came out in a wheedling tone as she pressed herself against Jason's side, "Have you checked your email? I bet lots of people are already reading that juicy drawback document about you."
Those broad shoulders slumped and Jason's well sculpted face turned into a weary look. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be a nightmare." He took his phone out of his pocket and started swiping a finger on the screen, a few other people also taking out their phones though probably just as much to see if they could find this mythical 'document'. Airmid was curious to read it too actually and she navigated to the Parahumans Online tab of her browser.
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♦ Topic: An Overview of the Jumper Advent
In: Boards ► Places ► America ►Brockton Bay
Guest
Posted on January 1st, 2011
This document serves as an overview of the individual known as Jason Scott, also known by the cape identity 'Advent', founding member of the parahuman business concern 'Jumpco' located in Brockton Bay, Massachusetts. For the remainder of this document he will be referred to using his cape alias of Advent.
"Well, it unmasks you right at the start," she glanced up before continuing to read down, ignoring the private message notifications appearing at the top of the tab. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked up again. "Furry fetish artwork?"
Those words would have meant nothing to the Airmid Teasanare who grew up in Orario, but unfortunately life in the twenty first century had armed her with all sorts of knowledge.
"It put food on the table, okay? You don't know what it's like to be a struggling artist, I wasn't always a badass dragon martial artist god hero," he protested, looking gratifyingly on the back foot from the reminder of his less storied past.
"Was your fursona a dragon, Senpai?" BB cooed, poking him in the chest.
"No, it was a fox. And in retrospect I should have picked Tamamo!"
Leaving them to their lovers quarrel as BB started calling him a pig, Airmid resumed reading, letting out an irritated exhalation when she saw her own name dropped into the document, right next to an appendix listing the unwieldy full name of the story her world was based on. No wonder he just called it Danmachi.
The listing of his powers was of course as troubling as expected. It didn't even soften things by saying how he never actually used the black mud, it just bluntly said that if he felt like it he could trivially ruin a city the same way the Simurgh might. Then there was his shapeshifting, which was sure to put every faction into fits trying to secure themselves against Advent if he were disguised as one of their own, or even just a pigeon on the window-ledge outside their meeting room.
Being able to overcome any defence and enforce the concept of death upon a victim was somehow one of the least troubling abilities depicted, but then again destined death was perhaps a nonsensical description to a world used to people dying when they were killed as the default proposition.
Reaching the end of the document without expanding the appendices, she ignored the meaningless messages declaring 'first!' and expressing disbelief, instead checking on her now swelling inbox. Throwaway accounts requesting off-site contact, a slew of random accounts asking her to comment on the thread, and…
"I got a private message from Dragon," she announced, looking up from her phone and the polite message asking to get in contact.
"That's good but also bad," Jason said, checking his phone and adding, "She's emailed me as well on the office account. This can open doors, but remember she's compromised. We really ought to get moving, it'll probably take people time to digest things but there's no telling if one of the gangs might make an immediate play."
"'Bout time, seeing all you kids glued to your phones, makes a man feel old," Majima cut in as he swaggered over. "What's the plan, Jason? Or should I call ya Advent?"
"Either works at this point, secret identity's blown anyway," Jason responded with a crooked grin. "Anyway, me, Airmid, and Alexander will stay to run the company. Pull attention on Jumpco and see if we can get some movement on curing cancer and unpacking that tinker-tech core."
Airmid nodded her head in agreement. The passivity that had defined her before the ringing in of the new year was gone, there was too much good to be done and time that had been wasted. Her world-changing medicine wasn't going to lie in the shadow of Advent's corporate seminars and BB's illusory flights of fancy any longer.
"I expect the greatest challenges will come flocking right to us," Alexander gave his own vocal approval. "But oh, not to downplay the challenges our valiant comrades will be facing themselves. Haha, I dare say there'll be thrills aplenty for us all!"
"Can be sure of that," Jason answered with an agreeable chuckle. "BB, you're on Dragonslayer duty. We've got enough liquid cash you should be able to hire the Undersiders, get Tattletale to find their base, use Grue's power to block transmissions, should give a clean shot at taking them down and retrieving Dragon's backdoor codes."
"Haiiii!" BB answered with gratuitous Japanese, a habit she'd had even as Sakura during the time Airmid had known her before their memories came back. "I'll turn those naughty kids into good little workers for us, Senpai!"
"And Majima…" Jason trailed off, looking at the one-eyed man as the tension rose. Before Airmid had thought it overly paranoid. But given the direction her thoughts had been going in before the new year, she had a deeper understanding of why such measures were necessary now.
"I hear ya," Majima said, voice low and gravelly, his single eye narrowed. "Not a word till the job's done." Then he leaned back, his pitch shifted to the more thready and cackling cadence he'd used when he'd first appeared. "Nishida! Minami! Shinji! You three chuckleheads with me. We're going on a road trip!"
The three of them followed as Majima confidently led the way out, despite having no memories or experiences in this world he'd literally just been dropped into a few minutes ago. The one companion who'd abstained from taking a parahuman power despite their free availability beforehand.
"Good luck, Majima…" she whispered, praying for his success.
23:55
Airmid clapped politely as Minami finished singing. With so many Japanese employees in Jumpco it was no wonder their New Years Eve party featured lots of karaoke, but fortunately that was probably the last song for a little bit as they were approaching the countdown. The best that could be said for the man's performance was that it was very spirited.
Really it was a struggle not to get drawn in by looking at his face, not out of any desire but rather because he had so many piercings it made her power act up with ideas, both in terms of fixing the tissue damage and in employing externally pierced devices to augment or take over various bodily functions.
She didn't exactly get many opportunities to flex her power, unfortunately. Even having the cure for cancer, the holy grail of modern medical science, she couldn't even run experimental trials on humans. She had the healthiest collection of lab mice in the world, but 'tinker-tech is too unreliable and unproven to use on humans'.
Picking up her glass of rum and coke from the bar she sipped it to distract herself from her spiralling thoughts, only spurring another tangent. Despite being twenty five she still got carded every time, her short stature and youthful face meaning she still looked like a teenager. And not the kind of 'teens' played in TV dramas by actors in their thirties. It meant she didn't drink much, though she wasn't so inexperienced as to dislike the taste. Even if her power whispered to her of the strain absorption of alcohol would place on her liver and ways she could improve it to better handle that, and even process things far more toxic and deadly than mere alcohol.
Every day dealing with procedural roadblocks increased the temptation to do a little self-experimentation that much further.
Wincing more at the direction of her thoughts than the taste, Airmid walked across the floor of the bar they'd rented out for the evening towards the windows. High up above the Boardwalk, it offered a commanding view across the bay, and the festivities down below where masses of people had gathered to welcome 2011. It also came with easy access to a freight lift which had allowed Alexander to join them. He didn't drink, but he'd given a fantastic performance of My Way when handed the microphone earlier.
The glass was reflective enough to see herself as well as the Atlantic Ocean and pale blue glow of the Protectorate headquarters. Dressed up as Dea Saint, even though the room was full only of Jumpco staff, she had her mask on to cover the upper half of her face. At one point she'd considered something like a plague doctor's beaked mask, but it just looked too creepy so instead she had a rather bland white mask that covered her from nose to brow, her blonde hair held up in a neat bun underneath her nurse cap and matching the white smock she wore with peppermint green stripes.
Professional looking but with a touch of whimsy to better mark her as a cape and not just a normal nurse. Of course not too much whimsy. Alice in Wonderland dresses and white pinafores and horrifyingly whimsical art was what most people thought of when hearing of bio-tinkers. The fact that Airmid looked young for her age was nothing more than genetics and lifestyle, but it was another unfortunate point of comparison.
She disliked feeling so melancholy. They were on the cusp of a new year, she had a power which could change the world for the better and free millions from pain and despair… but it felt like she was in a holding pattern. Just passing the time without achieving anything, squandering her potential. Did her friends feel the same?
Looking back across the party, she saw Sakura hanging off of Jason as she usually did while their leader held court among their other employees. Jason – or Advent when on the clock, a dull pun there considering his publicised powers, was in costume as well. He was a big man, powerfully built, the sort who could walk down any of Brockton Bay's streets without fear. His costume may have elicited some mockery though, a steampunk ensemble that was basically a Sherlock Holmes outfit covered in gears and doodads, the deerstalker hat swapped out for a bowler hat which of course had a clock built into it.
The whole thing felt tiring to look at, it was so busy, and the wraparound visor he used to cover his eyes just didn't match, looking too sleek and modern. Still, he argued that it worked well as a costume because it distracted the eye and made it so people wouldn't be able to pick out personally identifiable details.
Distraction was clearly the name of the game when it came to Sakura's costume as well. With an Eidolon style blank mirrored face-mask and hood covering her head, her body was sheathed in a scandalously tight black leather bodysuit that left a diamond shaped cutout on her chest in what could only be called a boob window.
Airmid had seen how the sausage was made though. The amount of talcum powder Sakura went through to squeeze herself into that thing was unreal. And while it couldn't be brought to market, Airmid had tinkered up a specially formulated powder of her own which helped her friend's skin breathe and obviated the risk of ovarian cancer she was exposed to by using store bought product.
But of course it was her unproven tinker-tech which was the danger.
She took deeper gulp of her drink to distract herself from unhelpfully spiralling thoughts. There were too many things she could help with, too many dangers blithely accepted as normal because of inertia and corporate greed. It was too easy to run across reminders and all it did was make her unhappy.
Besides, the countdown was starting. The TVs in the corners were showing the Times Square festivities, and from far down below the roar of the crowd dimly transmitted through the window. Putting a smile on her face, Airmid stepped closer to where everyone was clustered around and calling out, her own voice added to the chorus. "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"
"Happy new year!"
It wasn't the expected resounding of their voices as one. Some got through the whole sequence, some cut themselves off partway through, some never even started. With some dry amusement she noticed Sakura had pulled off her mask and was halfway towards a kiss with Jason before they'd all stopped what they were doing, the deluge of memory and power hitting them.
It let her see Sakura's pretty face somehow transition into airbrushed supermodel perfection, which she probably could have managed with her own knowledge of cosmetic surgery. Yet it wasn't uncanny, because that was the version of her she knew. BB, vice captain of the Ryuzo Familia, a familia she'd joined up with during Orario's dark period. It was all coming back to her, just as unsettling now as it had been when Airmid the needle knight of Miquella and wielder of unalloyed gold recovered her memories of life as a healer and adventurer in Orario and came out of her pointless pining for the lost Empyrean to embark on the quest for the Elden Ring. Indeed she could hardly talk about BB's divine level beauty without hypocrisy considering she herself held a measure of Miquella's own divine charm in her looks.
It was a bracing experience, but her mind quickly found itself wrapping around the reality of her multiple lives. She really had been in a holding pattern, her life up until now on Earth Bet simply marking time for the moment when the 'story' properly began. They couldn't have her upset the status quo before chapter one, after all.
"Well look at all your faces! I've gotta take Drop-In more often if that's what I look like getting all those memories dumped in my head," the abrasive almost greasy sounding voice of someone who'd literally just appeared in their midst rang out.
"Boss, you're back!" Nishida, the man with the curious habit of always wearing a yellow hard hat, called out excitedly amidst the other employees of Jumpco that were in fact members of the Ryuzo Clan and Majima Construction, not quite companions given the privilege of perks and backgrounds, but still along for the journey, and still in some cases higher level adventurers than she was.
"Aha, the esteemed Mad Hound of Malenia has returned to us at last!" Alexander let out his own sound of approval as everyone beheld the one who'd taken a different route than the rest of them for this jump in order to serve as a hidden weapon. Wearing a tacky snake-skin jacket and leather pants that exposed his chest and the edges of a tattoo that wrapped all around his back, his neatly parted black hair framing an intense looking and handsome mature face. A black patch covered one eye, with a silver snake design on it, and Airmid felt her power whispering solutions. It wouldn't even be a hard job to clone Goro Majima's eye and implant it back in the socket good as new.
"Yer all actin' like I've been gone, I just saw all your ugly mugs a minute ago," Majima huffed at the excited greetings, his accent thickening as he put emotional distance between them all. Rubbing his leather-gloved hands together, he looked around the room and then over the bay where colourful fireworks were shooting up to mark the new year. "Gotta say, feels nice to be back in the twenty first century, even if it's a fucked up comic book world."
Airmid had thought it might be exciting to see the kind of world her companions had talked about coming from, but now she had memories of growing up in it, bouncing between apathetic foster carers, working in an unsanitary burger joint, struggling against bureaucracy even after she triggered with a power that could have helped so many people… the shine had worn off. Even if she knew she could do better now, this 'modern' world had already done its best to grind her down.
She must have worn her feelings on her face, because Jason has come closer and was looking at her, having taken off his goofy looking visor so she could see his greyish-green eyes. "You doing okay, Airmid?"
She took a breath, and her hair changed colour to its natural silver, unnatural as it might look in this world. She could see BB had already let her hood down and turned her hair from brown to purple as well, her eyes having turned a matching shade which she knew was reflected in her own. "Just thinking that living in the twenty first century has taken its toll."
"Yeah," he nodded in commiseration, "It has its upsides, but there's a reason you didn't hear me yearning for it in Danmachi or Elden Ring. Still, we can fix things now. Your tinker power and the tinker-tech data core we bought can do a lot of good."
It always felt a little odd when he called it Danmachi. Not Genkai, not Orario. Danmachi. The fan name for a story about her world, a story in which she herself was only a bit player. She put the thought aside and asked, "Where is that data core?" Her parahuman power was part of her backstory here, as was her costume which she was wearing right now and knew exactly how to make despite it not really being part of her tinker speciality. Highly resistant to damage, as protective as clothing could be short of something like what Gallant and Armsmaster wore… though in BB's case her chest was left quite vulnerable. Not that it mattered now, all of them were effectively mid-tier brutes by local classification, thanks to their adventurer levels and the runes they'd empowered themselves with in Elden Ring.
"It'll be back at the lair," Jason answered. "Too disruptive to have as part of my backstory."
"Speaking of disruption, Senpai…" BB's voice came out in a wheedling tone as she pressed herself against Jason's side, "Have you checked your email? I bet lots of people are already reading that juicy drawback document about you."
Those broad shoulders slumped and Jason's well sculpted face turned into a weary look. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be a nightmare." He took his phone out of his pocket and started swiping a finger on the screen, a few other people also taking out their phones though probably just as much to see if they could find this mythical 'document'. Airmid was curious to read it too actually and she navigated to the Parahumans Online tab of her browser.
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♦ Topic: An Overview of the Jumper Advent
In: Boards ► Places ► America ►Brockton Bay
Guest
Posted on January 1st, 2011
This document serves as an overview of the individual known as Jason Scott, also known by the cape identity 'Advent', founding member of the parahuman business concern 'Jumpco' located in Brockton Bay, Massachusetts. For the remainder of this document he will be referred to using his cape alias of Advent.
"Well, it unmasks you right at the start," she glanced up before continuing to read down, ignoring the private message notifications appearing at the top of the tab. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked up again. "Furry fetish artwork?"
Those words would have meant nothing to the Airmid Teasanare who grew up in Orario, but unfortunately life in the twenty first century had armed her with all sorts of knowledge.
"It put food on the table, okay? You don't know what it's like to be a struggling artist, I wasn't always a badass dragon martial artist god hero," he protested, looking gratifyingly on the back foot from the reminder of his less storied past.
"Was your fursona a dragon, Senpai?" BB cooed, poking him in the chest.
"No, it was a fox. And in retrospect I should have picked Tamamo!"
Leaving them to their lovers quarrel as BB started calling him a pig, Airmid resumed reading, letting out an irritated exhalation when she saw her own name dropped into the document, right next to an appendix listing the unwieldy full name of the story her world was based on. No wonder he just called it Danmachi.
The listing of his powers was of course as troubling as expected. It didn't even soften things by saying how he never actually used the black mud, it just bluntly said that if he felt like it he could trivially ruin a city the same way the Simurgh might. Then there was his shapeshifting, which was sure to put every faction into fits trying to secure themselves against Advent if he were disguised as one of their own, or even just a pigeon on the window-ledge outside their meeting room.
Being able to overcome any defence and enforce the concept of death upon a victim was somehow one of the least troubling abilities depicted, but then again destined death was perhaps a nonsensical description to a world used to people dying when they were killed as the default proposition.
Reaching the end of the document without expanding the appendices, she ignored the meaningless messages declaring 'first!' and expressing disbelief, instead checking on her now swelling inbox. Throwaway accounts requesting off-site contact, a slew of random accounts asking her to comment on the thread, and…
"I got a private message from Dragon," she announced, looking up from her phone and the polite message asking to get in contact.
"That's good but also bad," Jason said, checking his phone and adding, "She's emailed me as well on the office account. This can open doors, but remember she's compromised. We really ought to get moving, it'll probably take people time to digest things but there's no telling if one of the gangs might make an immediate play."
"'Bout time, seeing all you kids glued to your phones, makes a man feel old," Majima cut in as he swaggered over. "What's the plan, Jason? Or should I call ya Advent?"
"Either works at this point, secret identity's blown anyway," Jason responded with a crooked grin. "Anyway, me, Airmid, and Alexander will stay to run the company. Pull attention on Jumpco and see if we can get some movement on curing cancer and unpacking that tinker-tech core."
Airmid nodded her head in agreement. The passivity that had defined her before the ringing in of the new year was gone, there was too much good to be done and time that had been wasted. Her world-changing medicine wasn't going to lie in the shadow of Advent's corporate seminars and BB's illusory flights of fancy any longer.
"I expect the greatest challenges will come flocking right to us," Alexander gave his own vocal approval. "But oh, not to downplay the challenges our valiant comrades will be facing themselves. Haha, I dare say there'll be thrills aplenty for us all!"
"Can be sure of that," Jason answered with an agreeable chuckle. "BB, you're on Dragonslayer duty. We've got enough liquid cash you should be able to hire the Undersiders, get Tattletale to find their base, use Grue's power to block transmissions, should give a clean shot at taking them down and retrieving Dragon's backdoor codes."
"Haiiii!" BB answered with gratuitous Japanese, a habit she'd had even as Sakura during the time Airmid had known her before their memories came back. "I'll turn those naughty kids into good little workers for us, Senpai!"
"And Majima…" Jason trailed off, looking at the one-eyed man as the tension rose. Before Airmid had thought it overly paranoid. But given the direction her thoughts had been going in before the new year, she had a deeper understanding of why such measures were necessary now.
"I hear ya," Majima said, voice low and gravelly, his single eye narrowed. "Not a word till the job's done." Then he leaned back, his pitch shifted to the more thready and cackling cadence he'd used when he'd first appeared. "Nishida! Minami! Shinji! You three chuckleheads with me. We're going on a road trip!"
The three of them followed as Majima confidently led the way out, despite having no memories or experiences in this world he'd literally just been dropped into a few minutes ago. The one companion who'd abstained from taking a parahuman power despite their free availability beforehand.
"Good luck, Majima…" she whispered, praying for his success.
Companions and Followers
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Companions
Item Construction A - "Of course a helpful kouhai needs to know to make all kinds of useful items, like a potion cures status conditions and turns you into a Saberface, or an injection that boosts your luck with the opposite sex while removing your libido, or special headphones that let you only hear BB's voice..."
Noble Phantasm
Cursed Cutting Crater (Anti-World) Ex - "Isn't this really boring? I made things more interesting by taking away my invulnerability skill and self modification, but was that really me or was that Senpai being stingy so he could put all of his points into an unbeatable ultimate attack turns a scoop of reality into an imaginary number space where BB can disassemble and rewrite everything down to the sub-atomic level? Really, this kind of thing isn't cute at all..."
BB is Jason's first companion, and was created using the Servant Supplement rules as a custom Servant for the Fate/Stay Night jump where you can be absolutely sure people were very confused by her appearance. Her overall power level is reduced to fit in with Stay Night rather than CCC or Grand Order, and she's missing a bunch of skills, but she makes up for it with a Noble Phantasm that can match up with Gilgamesh's Ea, and the absurd luck to walk off a stab from Lancer's Gae Bolg.
Since then she's been an Idol in Yakuza, an Adventurer in Danmachi, and a Carian Royalist in Elden Ring. Currently she's a Rogue in Worm and known for her potentially terrifying sensory manipulation power that she uses for entertainment purposes, though it may not be long before she becomes better known as a villain...
Also known the Mad Dog of Shimano, the boss of Majima Construction, Goro Majima is a legend in the yakuza underworld most known for being terrifyingly unpredictable. Due to a combination of drawbacks and scenarios in the Yakuza jump, he spent most of his time picking fights with Jason and then at the end of the jump with Kiryu able to peacefully run his orphanage, Majima followed along as a Companion to join in the adventures so he could find all kinds of new and exciting people to fight across the multiverse. He brought along Majima Construction with him, which effectively merged with the Jumper Family item Jason had taken himself in the jump which gave him a small yakuza clan of loyal followers.
Since then he's been an Adventurer in Danmachi, and a Haligtree Knight in Elden Ring. Arriving in Worm as a Drop-In, he has no history in Earth Bet, but surely he'll soon rebuild his terrifying reputation on a fresh audience.
Perhaps noticing the skewed morality of the party thus far, or perhaps wanting a straight man type for comedic purposes, Airmid Teasanare became the third companion after the Danmachi jump. This jump saw Jason arrive in Orario during its bad period seven years before canon, giving him time to affect canon and build up his familia before Bell appeared. Airmid was snagged early on before Dian Cecht could get her as she was canonically in his familia, and during the course of the jump she spent more time adventuring and gained a higher level than her canonical self. Her level continued to rise through the decade she spent in Elden Ring, thus her much higher status seen here. She's far from the highest levelled person in the party, but she's also not the lowest.
She picked up an extra spell not seen in canon as well as a unique skill, plus a selection of development abilities skewed towards crafting which puts her firmly in the support role. Despite BB having the Item Creation Servant skill, no one really trusts her items.
She's only had one jump before Worm, spending her time in Elden Ring as a Needle Knight of Miquella. Currently she's a Rogue in Worm, of only limited renown due to having had very few chances to flex her bio-tinker power.
Alexander is the most recent companion recruited from Elden Ring, he's a Warrior Jar, and took the Case 53 drawback in jump so he could continue to be a jar rather than having a human body while still being able to take the Hero background rather than being a Drop-In like Majima.
While few have realised his true power, Alexander is every bit a match for Alexandria when it comes to his parahuman power. Add onto that his long life as a warrior fighting every horror of the Lands Between, and this stalwart champion is sure to forge a new legend for himself on Earth Bet.
Despite lacking skin, he still has a falna and can gain levels in the Danmachi system when Jason updates his status. Perks of being a companion.
Followers
Followers are effectively 'items' purchased in a jump that come along into each new jump but don't get to pick up perks themselves, and their backgrounds in the jump are a function of their role as followers.
Majima Construction and the Ryuzo Clan from the Yakuza jump are both basically integrated together, and for the purposes of the Worm jump the members became the employees of the Business items that Jason, Airmid, and BB all purchased. They were all there for Danmachi and Elden Ring and so all of them have picked up levels in the Danmachi system, some of them being higher than Airmid (though she has the additional benefit of her Elden Ring perks and the runes she collected there, so pure level isn't everything).
Aside from the people you might know in canon as Majima's minions such as Nishida and Minami, Jason's family includes a few recognisable Yakuza characters who's lives went differently. Kiryu's friend Shinji Tanaka survived the dissolution of the Nishikiyama Clan and joined the Ryuzo Clan, and Susumu Gondawara became captain of the Ryuzo Clan rather than patriarch of his own family, to give two noteworthy examples.
The Dragon Lair from the first jump is effectively the Warehouse for this Jumpchain, and it gets maintained by three groups of followers that came with it. First is the kobolds, who're basically just general gophers that do all kinds of work, having only started as a small group but multiplying as kobolds do so there's now dozens of them. Second is the fire giants, who mostly focus on crafting pursuits. And finally there's the maids and butlers, all of them human who're exclusively focused on cooking and cleaning and other domestic work.
They're all D&D characters, but nothing fancy. The kobolds are mostly warriors and experts with a few sorcerers, the fire giants are mostly just racial hit dice with a couple clerics, and the maids/butlers are exclusively commoners. They all have falna though few have even made it to level two because they don't really get many chances to gain excelia, and most of the kobolds and fire giants are also effectively Crucible Knights from Elden Ring by making use of the Crucible item that Jason picked up there and attached to his lair.
Item Construction A - "Of course a helpful kouhai needs to know to make all kinds of useful items, like a potion cures status conditions and turns you into a Saberface, or an injection that boosts your luck with the opposite sex while removing your libido, or special headphones that let you only hear BB's voice..."
Noble Phantasm
Cursed Cutting Crater (Anti-World) Ex - "Isn't this really boring? I made things more interesting by taking away my invulnerability skill and self modification, but was that really me or was that Senpai being stingy so he could put all of his points into an unbeatable ultimate attack turns a scoop of reality into an imaginary number space where BB can disassemble and rewrite everything down to the sub-atomic level? Really, this kind of thing isn't cute at all..."
BB is Jason's first companion, and was created using the Servant Supplement rules as a custom Servant for the Fate/Stay Night jump where you can be absolutely sure people were very confused by her appearance. Her overall power level is reduced to fit in with Stay Night rather than CCC or Grand Order, and she's missing a bunch of skills, but she makes up for it with a Noble Phantasm that can match up with Gilgamesh's Ea, and the absurd luck to walk off a stab from Lancer's Gae Bolg.
Since then she's been an Idol in Yakuza, an Adventurer in Danmachi, and a Carian Royalist in Elden Ring. Currently she's a Rogue in Worm and known for her potentially terrifying sensory manipulation power that she uses for entertainment purposes, though it may not be long before she becomes better known as a villain...
Also known the Mad Dog of Shimano, the boss of Majima Construction, Goro Majima is a legend in the yakuza underworld most known for being terrifyingly unpredictable. Due to a combination of drawbacks and scenarios in the Yakuza jump, he spent most of his time picking fights with Jason and then at the end of the jump with Kiryu able to peacefully run his orphanage, Majima followed along as a Companion to join in the adventures so he could find all kinds of new and exciting people to fight across the multiverse. He brought along Majima Construction with him, which effectively merged with the Jumper Family item Jason had taken himself in the jump which gave him a small yakuza clan of loyal followers.
Since then he's been an Adventurer in Danmachi, and a Haligtree Knight in Elden Ring. Arriving in Worm as a Drop-In, he has no history in Earth Bet, but surely he'll soon rebuild his terrifying reputation on a fresh audience.
Perhaps noticing the skewed morality of the party thus far, or perhaps wanting a straight man type for comedic purposes, Airmid Teasanare became the third companion after the Danmachi jump. This jump saw Jason arrive in Orario during its bad period seven years before canon, giving him time to affect canon and build up his familia before Bell appeared. Airmid was snagged early on before Dian Cecht could get her as she was canonically in his familia, and during the course of the jump she spent more time adventuring and gained a higher level than her canonical self. Her level continued to rise through the decade she spent in Elden Ring, thus her much higher status seen here. She's far from the highest levelled person in the party, but she's also not the lowest.
She picked up an extra spell not seen in canon as well as a unique skill, plus a selection of development abilities skewed towards crafting which puts her firmly in the support role. Despite BB having the Item Creation Servant skill, no one really trusts her items.
She's only had one jump before Worm, spending her time in Elden Ring as a Needle Knight of Miquella. Currently she's a Rogue in Worm, of only limited renown due to having had very few chances to flex her bio-tinker power.
Alexander is the most recent companion recruited from Elden Ring, he's a Warrior Jar, and took the Case 53 drawback in jump so he could continue to be a jar rather than having a human body while still being able to take the Hero background rather than being a Drop-In like Majima.
While few have realised his true power, Alexander is every bit a match for Alexandria when it comes to his parahuman power. Add onto that his long life as a warrior fighting every horror of the Lands Between, and this stalwart champion is sure to forge a new legend for himself on Earth Bet.
Despite lacking skin, he still has a falna and can gain levels in the Danmachi system when Jason updates his status. Perks of being a companion.
Followers
Followers are effectively 'items' purchased in a jump that come along into each new jump but don't get to pick up perks themselves, and their backgrounds in the jump are a function of their role as followers.
Majima Construction and the Ryuzo Clan from the Yakuza jump are both basically integrated together, and for the purposes of the Worm jump the members became the employees of the Business items that Jason, Airmid, and BB all purchased. They were all there for Danmachi and Elden Ring and so all of them have picked up levels in the Danmachi system, some of them being higher than Airmid (though she has the additional benefit of her Elden Ring perks and the runes she collected there, so pure level isn't everything).
Aside from the people you might know in canon as Majima's minions such as Nishida and Minami, Jason's family includes a few recognisable Yakuza characters who's lives went differently. Kiryu's friend Shinji Tanaka survived the dissolution of the Nishikiyama Clan and joined the Ryuzo Clan, and Susumu Gondawara became captain of the Ryuzo Clan rather than patriarch of his own family, to give two noteworthy examples.
The Dragon Lair from the first jump is effectively the Warehouse for this Jumpchain, and it gets maintained by three groups of followers that came with it. First is the kobolds, who're basically just general gophers that do all kinds of work, having only started as a small group but multiplying as kobolds do so there's now dozens of them. Second is the fire giants, who mostly focus on crafting pursuits. And finally there's the maids and butlers, all of them human who're exclusively focused on cooking and cleaning and other domestic work.
They're all D&D characters, but nothing fancy. The kobolds are mostly warriors and experts with a few sorcerers, the fire giants are mostly just racial hit dice with a couple clerics, and the maids/butlers are exclusively commoners. They all have falna though few have even made it to level two because they don't really get many chances to gain excelia, and most of the kobolds and fire giants are also effectively Crucible Knights from Elden Ring by making use of the Crucible item that Jason picked up there and attached to his lair.
Last edited:
Chapter 3
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 1, 2011
07:15
There was no sign of the other Undersiders when Rachel got up. Alec usually wasn't awake before noon even on days where they hadn't been out late robbing some place. Last night had been quiet with no jobs planned, but Lisa and Brian had probably stayed up because it was the new year.
Stupid. It was just another day. The year changed whether you were there to see it happen or not, it was still 2011 when she woke up either way, and her dogs wouldn't appreciate her being late in feeding them.
Even then she could feel their impatience and eagerness as she came into the Loft's kitchen, five eyes tracking her and tails swishing behind their bodies, even Brutus's cruelly docked one thumping against the floor where he sat by the bowls.
Water first, she picked up the water bowl and tipped it into the sink, turning the faucet to pour fresh cold water into the large steel container. Placing it down, the three dogs went in and started loudly lapping up their drink while she took the ceramic bowl up onto the counter and grabbed the bag of kibble from one of the cupboards. As she poured food into it she heard a needy whine from Angelica, causing her to stop and look down at the terrier. She gestured down with a finger and Angelica obeyed, laying flat and quieting, though her one good eye stayed fixed up at her.
She hadn't jumped up, she was getting better. Judas and Brutus were waiting more patiently, having satisfied their immediate thirst with the fresh water.
Still, Rachel waited, watching Angelica until she was satisfied she'd calmed down. Pouring the rest of the food, she set the bowl down and watched as Brutus shoved his big head over the bowl first to start gobbling down kibble, Judas and Angelica following as the three of them started jostling for room. There was enough for all of them, and she watched to make sure no one was being crowded out before she put the bag down in the cupboard once more and went upstairs to have her shower.
It didn't take long, and she kept her hair short enough that it was easy to dry after she'd scrubbed herself down. Getting properly dressed, she returned to the kitchen and gave the dogs' now empty food bowl a quick rinse before she poured herself a bowl of corn flakes. The new year meant the food cart she usually got her breakfast from wouldn't be open either. The milk and cereal wasn't terrible at least, and she washed up before going to the Loft's front door. Her lips pursed and she let out two whistles in succession, causing her dogs to immediately perk up. Angelica was nearby at the foot of the couch, and quickly scampered over while Brutus ran around the sofa from the kitchen and Judas came barrelling down the stairs with a scrabbling noise of his claws struggling for purchase at the speed he was going.
"Good boy, Brutus," even if Angelica got to her first, Brutus was her top dog and so he was the first to get scratches, digging her fingers through the thick fur and loose skin around his neck and haunches, his stumpy tail thumped wildly against the ground before he slipped free of her only so he could roll onto his back and expose his belly for more scratches. Happy whines and pants sounded as she obliged before moving on to Judas and then Angelica, giving all three dogs a good scratching. It rewarded their obedience to the whistled command, and it felt good for her as well to enjoy the feel of their furry bodies under her hands. When she was done digging her fingers through Angelica's belly she commanded all three of them, "Sit," which they quickly complied with, sitting upright and eager. "Good boys, good girl. Walkies?" their tails wagged hard and their eyes tracked her picking up the leashes, but they held perfectly still. Fastening the leashes to their collars, she tucked some plastic bags into her back pocket and dog treats into one of her jacket pockets.
Opening the door, she gave a single small whistle and her dogs follow her outside, closing and locking it before taking the metal stairs down through the otherwise abandoned and grimy looking building the Undersiders were using as their hideout.
The air was cool, but it wasn't enough to put frost on the ground, and the sun was barely up and filtered through overcast grey skies. Angelica pulled ahead on the leash as soon as they were out on the street, and she made a disapproving noise with her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Still Angelica kept pulling, despite the example set by the more well behaved Brutus and Judas, so Rachel stopped entirely and directed her to lie down, which she did with a petulant whine. The other two dogs milled around without tugging on the leash, smelling their surroundings, and she allowed it while waiting for Angelica to calm down.
"Walk on," she instructed, and Angelica sprang back to her feet and trotted ahead with Brutus and Judas falling in step as well. This time she stayed close, and she rewarded the behaviour by handing out treats to all three of them, walking through the unusually quiet Docks district towards the beach.
Angelica behaved herself and didn't pull any further. She stopped to allow Brutus to piss against a wall below some ABB graffiti, the red and green pattern distinctive, the spot one she usually saw people hanging out around in the evening, but this early in the morning she had the streets to herself even more than usual.
Maybe New Years wasn't so bad.
It took about a mile of walking before they reached the beach. The tide was halfway out, much of the sand still wet, trash piled up around the concrete wall that separated it from the road. She took the leads off her dogs and they hopped down from the ledge onto the sand before she reached into her jacket pocket and took out a red rubber ball, the dogs starting to bounce around and make excited yipping noises at the impending game.
She reared back and hurled it with a call of, "Fetch," and watched them scamper off in pursuit, claws digging through wet sand and leaving criss-crossing trails in their wake. She followed them slowly, her boots squelching lightly in the sand before Judas came running back with the ball held tightly in his jaws, Brutus and Angelica nipping at him until all three came to a stop and Judas dropped the ball at her feet.
"Good boy, Judas," he got some scratches followed by Brutus and Angelica before she picked up the now wet and slimy ball, tossing it forward to repeat their game.
The beach wasn't entirely her own though. Other people were giving their own dogs some exercise. The space was big enough to give everyone some room, and she didn't have much to find fault with. People willing to get up early on a holiday to walk their dogs weren't the kind to be neglectful owners, and her three dogs were happy to sniff and be sniffed by the other dogs they ran into.
"Happy new year!" a well bundled up older man bared his teeth at her and she had to fight down an instinctive urge to snarl back at him as he came close while his spaniel sniffed at Angelica's backside. He drew back at her answering grunt, his teeth being hidden as he instead turned to look at the dogs. "That little one's been through the wars, hasn't she?"
Was he accusing her?
Her hackles raised. "Her last owner abused her," she said, clenching her fists. Brutus, sensing her annoyance, stopped his own sniffing and growled, his teeth bared as the big rottweiler fixed dark eyes on the man. Judas soon followed his example, and even Angelica stopped her twisting around to start growling, the spaniel shifting back and cowering behind his owner's legs.
"W-well… it seems she's in good hands now, very protective big brothers," the man laughed but it sounded wrong, and she didn't understand what was so funny about the situation anyway. "Come on Ringo!" he snapped his fingers and started walking away, his dog following obediently.
She relaxed a little, once more alone with her dogs how she preferred it, but annoyed over the encounter all the same. The man's dog seemed healthy and well trained, he was the kind of person she wanted to be able to get along with. But she couldn't. Couldn't figure out what he really meant, if she could trust his words or not.
She gave treats to each of her dogs before throwing the ball again, continuing her own walk along the beach, keeping her distance from other dog-walkers.
It was as she was making her way back that she felt eyes on her. Standing behind the concrete wall at the edge of the beach, a woman in a black coat, open to expose her white blouse and with long purple hair that made her look like a cartoon character.
Her eyes were fixed on Rachel, and she stared right back as she and her dogs got closer. Close enough to take in more detail… Rachel wasn't into girls, but even she was briefly stunned at just how beautiful the woman was. Movie stars and cover models were one thing, but seeing someone so good looking in the flesh on a bleak Brockton Bay winter morning made her stride falter, eye contact breaking.
She was also close enough to call out. "Good morning… Bitch," she said her name the same way Alec often did. The same sort of emphasis and lilting intonation. She was pretty sure it was just some cheap enjoyment over it being a swear as well as the name for a female dog.
Her power vibrated in her chest, a thrum starting up and resonating with the dogs, all three of them perking up. She had to be careful not to push too much into Angelica though, she still wasn't ready for it. "Who are you?" she asked, baring her teeth as Brutus and Judas began to grow.
"I'm BB. You don't need to worry, I'm a peaceful and friendly rogue, I don't want to fight," the woman answered, her lips curving upwards and her teeth hidden.
A weakling then. She lowered the tension of her power, halting the barely begun growth of her dogs but still holding it steady in case she needed to push them. BB was still a cape, except… "Why aren't you wearing your mask?" Or the rest of her costume. She'd seen pictures of it before, it was like Tattletale's. Tight and showy, and while the leather might have been thicker than Tattletale's spandex suit, it still left a gaping vulnerability that convinced Rachel BB was a dumbass who'd get herself killed the second a gang actually turned its attention onto her rogue group.
"Oh, Jumpco's all been unmasked, there's not much point any more," BB answered, waving a white-gloved hand through the air. Rachel had never actually had a secret identity to lose, so she didn't really care. She still wore her mask when doing cape stuff though, most people didn't recognise her without it.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, not really caring about the unmasking of a bunch of rogues. It had nothing to do with her, except the fact that BB was here now and talking to her.
"I want to hire you and your little gang to do a job for me," the distractingly pretty woman answered, leaning back and putting her hands on her hips, her chest pushed out.
Bitch never had anything to do with deciding on their jobs. She left that to Tattletale and Grue, and she knew most of their work really came from the boss, they weren't actually an independent group they just did what they were told. But she also knew that their connection to the boss was supposed to be secret, so what was she meant to do when someone offered work?
"How much?" she asked the first question that came to mind. If the money wasn't good it wasn't even worth hearing what the job was.
"A hundred thousand dollars."
January 1, 2011
9:30
A hundred thousand dollars was a pretty good motivator to getting the other Undersiders out of bed. They still moaned and grumbled when she banged on their doors and told them to get up for a team meeting, but they did it, just like she did whenever Brian came and bothered her.
"I got offered a job for the team," she said once everyone was downstairs, looking around the other three members of the team.
Lisa, her blonde hair down and mussed from sleep, looked at her with wide eyes as she stood in place wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
Flopping onto the couch, Alec was already grabbing the TV remote, similarly dressed to Lisa. "Great, we all gonna have to help out at the dog shelter?"
Brian had already been up when she came back, although with his shorts and tank-top on he'd probably been exercising. "Rachel…" he started in a tone that was hard for her to decipher, "Since when did you take job offers?"
"Since today. She found me when I was walking my dogs. Offered a hundred thousand dollars for us to take a job. I said I'd talk to you." Which was exactly what she was doing, it wasn't that complicated.
"Who offered?" Brian pressed, stepping closer and leaning over her, making her lower her gaze away from his eyes.
"BB, from that rogue group Jumpco. She wants us to find someone and help take them down," she answered.
She thought it was pretty surprising that a bunch of rogues would hire out a small-time group like hers for mercenary work, but the other Undersiders seemed even more surprised.
"BB? That BB?!"
"Holy shit, right after all the big news about Advent?"
"Rachel did you not read- did you not watch the news?"
The last comment came from Brian, and she just looked back at everyone in confusion. Was there something she was missing?
"Ugh, of course she didn't," Lisa groaned, reaching over to snatch the remote from Alec's hand and turning on the TV to a news channel showing a reporter standing outside one of the concrete business parks that were common in the south of the city.
"… today being a federal holiday, Jumpco's offices are closed but I'm standing here with, as you can see, quite a large crowd of onlookers, waiting to see if there'll be an announcement regarding the allegations made around the cape Advent, up until now better known for performing corporate optimisation seminars and holding the PRT threat rating of a mere Thinker two."
Lisa made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "No one's saying anything useful, but the point is the mother of all bombs just got dropped about Advent's power and nature last night while you were asleep. I was up late reading it all."
"She did say they'd all been unmasked, she wasn't in costume when she met me," Rachel said, that part at least making sense.
"Why the hell would someone associated to a guy who's on the verge of an S-class threat rating want to hire us? We're as small-time as it gets," Brian complained, which annoyed Rachel because of how often she'd heard him complaining about how they needed to build up their reputation.
"… she's seen the ending," Lisa said, her posture going slack before she looked around the three of them with wide eyes. "That document, it said Advent has preconceived notions about people as if they were part of a story. If there was a book about us, we'd be in the early chapters right now where we're still setting up, but she must know how the story ends."
"Ding ding ding ding!" an excited and girlish voice rang out, seeming to come from everywhere. "Five BB points for Tattletale! Excellent deduction!" the sound party poppers went off and colourful streamers of paper were blasted all over the room, falling over them as everyone looked around wildly for the source. Rachel looked down at her dogs but they only seemed to be picking up on the surprise of the Undersiders, not detecting any intruders.
"She's in here with us. Fuck!" Lisa swore venomously as she looked around and Brian glared down at Rachel.
"You let her follow you in here?" he demanded, and she felt the judgement in his words. She hadn't though. She'd parted ways from BB at the beach, and neither she nor her dogs had noticed any sign of her as they came back to the Loft.
"My dogs can't smell her, and she can turn herself invisible!" she protested, it wasn't her fault not being able to deal with that!
"It's not invisibility, it's-"
"Total sensory override," BB spoke over Lisa as she appeared at the edge of the kitchen, looking back at them.
"Brutus, hurt," she ordered. Job or not, hundred thousand dollars or not, she couldn't let this slide. But her dog didn't move, he was just sitting and panting happily, Judas and Angelica likewise.
"Puppy can't hear you, it works on dogs too," BB answered as she vanished and reappeared by Brutus, reaching down to scratch his neck and drawing a pleased rumbling noise from the dog. Alec had sprung up from the sofa now and was gesturing at her, while Rachel clenched her fist and swung out at the unmasked cape who was messing with her dog.
Her fist passed through her like it was Shadow Stalker's breaker state.
"You're just imagining that you can see and hear me, I'm not actually here. Even Brutus just imagined he was getting some nice scratches," BB said, baring her teeth and making Rachel want to punch her again. Instead she looked around, trying to see if she could find any trace of the real BB so she could punch her instead.
"Grue, smoke the room," Tattletale instructed while she was looking around as well. Hopefully that thinker power of hers would come in where every other sense was failing. She braced herself for that feeling of being cut-off from everything as the black smoke exploded out from Grue, filling the Loft. It cut off sound, the TV's droning reporting, the faint hum of electricity, the panting of her dogs, the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat pounding in her skull.
There was nothing she could do. Moving would just get in the way of whatever Grue and Tattletale were trying. If anyone was fighting she couldn't perceive it or get involved. All she could do was wait for a chance.
The smoke faded, noise and vision coming back. BB was being bent over and held in an armlock by Grue next to the TV.
BB was lifting Grue into the air in a choke-hold by the coffee table.
BB and Grue were grappling each other by the couch.
BB was pinned against the kitchen table with her legs locked around Grue's waist.
BB and Grue were pulling each other's hair by the fridge.
BB was standing triumphantly atop Grue's fallen form at the foot of the stairs.
"Oh what the fuck," Alec said in frustration as he looked around, the feeling one Rachel was able to understand and relate to with ease.
Lisa was looking around too, her eyes narrowed and her lips moving before she said, "None of them are real, they're all fake. Alright, BB, you've made your point."
"Ding ding ding ding! Five more BB points for Tattletale! Keep it up and you'll win a special prize!" all of the BBs declared, even the ones seeming to be locked in combat. Then they faded like smoke and an additional BB appeared holding Grue's arms behind his back on the other side of the TV from the two that had been in a mirror of that pose. She let go and gave him a little nudge as she said, "Only one BB point for Grue though, it's no good finding me if you can't catch me!" one of her eyes closed in an exaggerated wink as she stepped back from him and Tattletale.
"She's a brute too, that wasn't normal strength," Brian said, rubbing his arms as he stepped back and turned around to face the unmasked rogue who'd snuck into their base. "If you're looking to hire us for a job, this isn't a way to build goodwill."
"Maybe not, BB just can't help but be a bit of a bully sometimes, especially to smug know-it-all girls like Tattletale," she answered with a grating giggle. "But I think you'll take the job anyway. And not just for the money."
What other reason was there to do a job?
"You sure you're gonna be good for the money anyway?" Alec spoke up from the couch he'd slouched back onto at some point, gesturing to the TV. "It looks like your office is about to get trashed."
07:15
There was no sign of the other Undersiders when Rachel got up. Alec usually wasn't awake before noon even on days where they hadn't been out late robbing some place. Last night had been quiet with no jobs planned, but Lisa and Brian had probably stayed up because it was the new year.
Stupid. It was just another day. The year changed whether you were there to see it happen or not, it was still 2011 when she woke up either way, and her dogs wouldn't appreciate her being late in feeding them.
Even then she could feel their impatience and eagerness as she came into the Loft's kitchen, five eyes tracking her and tails swishing behind their bodies, even Brutus's cruelly docked one thumping against the floor where he sat by the bowls.
Water first, she picked up the water bowl and tipped it into the sink, turning the faucet to pour fresh cold water into the large steel container. Placing it down, the three dogs went in and started loudly lapping up their drink while she took the ceramic bowl up onto the counter and grabbed the bag of kibble from one of the cupboards. As she poured food into it she heard a needy whine from Angelica, causing her to stop and look down at the terrier. She gestured down with a finger and Angelica obeyed, laying flat and quieting, though her one good eye stayed fixed up at her.
She hadn't jumped up, she was getting better. Judas and Brutus were waiting more patiently, having satisfied their immediate thirst with the fresh water.
Still, Rachel waited, watching Angelica until she was satisfied she'd calmed down. Pouring the rest of the food, she set the bowl down and watched as Brutus shoved his big head over the bowl first to start gobbling down kibble, Judas and Angelica following as the three of them started jostling for room. There was enough for all of them, and she watched to make sure no one was being crowded out before she put the bag down in the cupboard once more and went upstairs to have her shower.
It didn't take long, and she kept her hair short enough that it was easy to dry after she'd scrubbed herself down. Getting properly dressed, she returned to the kitchen and gave the dogs' now empty food bowl a quick rinse before she poured herself a bowl of corn flakes. The new year meant the food cart she usually got her breakfast from wouldn't be open either. The milk and cereal wasn't terrible at least, and she washed up before going to the Loft's front door. Her lips pursed and she let out two whistles in succession, causing her dogs to immediately perk up. Angelica was nearby at the foot of the couch, and quickly scampered over while Brutus ran around the sofa from the kitchen and Judas came barrelling down the stairs with a scrabbling noise of his claws struggling for purchase at the speed he was going.
"Good boy, Brutus," even if Angelica got to her first, Brutus was her top dog and so he was the first to get scratches, digging her fingers through the thick fur and loose skin around his neck and haunches, his stumpy tail thumped wildly against the ground before he slipped free of her only so he could roll onto his back and expose his belly for more scratches. Happy whines and pants sounded as she obliged before moving on to Judas and then Angelica, giving all three dogs a good scratching. It rewarded their obedience to the whistled command, and it felt good for her as well to enjoy the feel of their furry bodies under her hands. When she was done digging her fingers through Angelica's belly she commanded all three of them, "Sit," which they quickly complied with, sitting upright and eager. "Good boys, good girl. Walkies?" their tails wagged hard and their eyes tracked her picking up the leashes, but they held perfectly still. Fastening the leashes to their collars, she tucked some plastic bags into her back pocket and dog treats into one of her jacket pockets.
Opening the door, she gave a single small whistle and her dogs follow her outside, closing and locking it before taking the metal stairs down through the otherwise abandoned and grimy looking building the Undersiders were using as their hideout.
The air was cool, but it wasn't enough to put frost on the ground, and the sun was barely up and filtered through overcast grey skies. Angelica pulled ahead on the leash as soon as they were out on the street, and she made a disapproving noise with her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Still Angelica kept pulling, despite the example set by the more well behaved Brutus and Judas, so Rachel stopped entirely and directed her to lie down, which she did with a petulant whine. The other two dogs milled around without tugging on the leash, smelling their surroundings, and she allowed it while waiting for Angelica to calm down.
"Walk on," she instructed, and Angelica sprang back to her feet and trotted ahead with Brutus and Judas falling in step as well. This time she stayed close, and she rewarded the behaviour by handing out treats to all three of them, walking through the unusually quiet Docks district towards the beach.
Angelica behaved herself and didn't pull any further. She stopped to allow Brutus to piss against a wall below some ABB graffiti, the red and green pattern distinctive, the spot one she usually saw people hanging out around in the evening, but this early in the morning she had the streets to herself even more than usual.
Maybe New Years wasn't so bad.
It took about a mile of walking before they reached the beach. The tide was halfway out, much of the sand still wet, trash piled up around the concrete wall that separated it from the road. She took the leads off her dogs and they hopped down from the ledge onto the sand before she reached into her jacket pocket and took out a red rubber ball, the dogs starting to bounce around and make excited yipping noises at the impending game.
She reared back and hurled it with a call of, "Fetch," and watched them scamper off in pursuit, claws digging through wet sand and leaving criss-crossing trails in their wake. She followed them slowly, her boots squelching lightly in the sand before Judas came running back with the ball held tightly in his jaws, Brutus and Angelica nipping at him until all three came to a stop and Judas dropped the ball at her feet.
"Good boy, Judas," he got some scratches followed by Brutus and Angelica before she picked up the now wet and slimy ball, tossing it forward to repeat their game.
The beach wasn't entirely her own though. Other people were giving their own dogs some exercise. The space was big enough to give everyone some room, and she didn't have much to find fault with. People willing to get up early on a holiday to walk their dogs weren't the kind to be neglectful owners, and her three dogs were happy to sniff and be sniffed by the other dogs they ran into.
"Happy new year!" a well bundled up older man bared his teeth at her and she had to fight down an instinctive urge to snarl back at him as he came close while his spaniel sniffed at Angelica's backside. He drew back at her answering grunt, his teeth being hidden as he instead turned to look at the dogs. "That little one's been through the wars, hasn't she?"
Was he accusing her?
Her hackles raised. "Her last owner abused her," she said, clenching her fists. Brutus, sensing her annoyance, stopped his own sniffing and growled, his teeth bared as the big rottweiler fixed dark eyes on the man. Judas soon followed his example, and even Angelica stopped her twisting around to start growling, the spaniel shifting back and cowering behind his owner's legs.
"W-well… it seems she's in good hands now, very protective big brothers," the man laughed but it sounded wrong, and she didn't understand what was so funny about the situation anyway. "Come on Ringo!" he snapped his fingers and started walking away, his dog following obediently.
She relaxed a little, once more alone with her dogs how she preferred it, but annoyed over the encounter all the same. The man's dog seemed healthy and well trained, he was the kind of person she wanted to be able to get along with. But she couldn't. Couldn't figure out what he really meant, if she could trust his words or not.
She gave treats to each of her dogs before throwing the ball again, continuing her own walk along the beach, keeping her distance from other dog-walkers.
It was as she was making her way back that she felt eyes on her. Standing behind the concrete wall at the edge of the beach, a woman in a black coat, open to expose her white blouse and with long purple hair that made her look like a cartoon character.
Her eyes were fixed on Rachel, and she stared right back as she and her dogs got closer. Close enough to take in more detail… Rachel wasn't into girls, but even she was briefly stunned at just how beautiful the woman was. Movie stars and cover models were one thing, but seeing someone so good looking in the flesh on a bleak Brockton Bay winter morning made her stride falter, eye contact breaking.
She was also close enough to call out. "Good morning… Bitch," she said her name the same way Alec often did. The same sort of emphasis and lilting intonation. She was pretty sure it was just some cheap enjoyment over it being a swear as well as the name for a female dog.
Her power vibrated in her chest, a thrum starting up and resonating with the dogs, all three of them perking up. She had to be careful not to push too much into Angelica though, she still wasn't ready for it. "Who are you?" she asked, baring her teeth as Brutus and Judas began to grow.
"I'm BB. You don't need to worry, I'm a peaceful and friendly rogue, I don't want to fight," the woman answered, her lips curving upwards and her teeth hidden.
A weakling then. She lowered the tension of her power, halting the barely begun growth of her dogs but still holding it steady in case she needed to push them. BB was still a cape, except… "Why aren't you wearing your mask?" Or the rest of her costume. She'd seen pictures of it before, it was like Tattletale's. Tight and showy, and while the leather might have been thicker than Tattletale's spandex suit, it still left a gaping vulnerability that convinced Rachel BB was a dumbass who'd get herself killed the second a gang actually turned its attention onto her rogue group.
"Oh, Jumpco's all been unmasked, there's not much point any more," BB answered, waving a white-gloved hand through the air. Rachel had never actually had a secret identity to lose, so she didn't really care. She still wore her mask when doing cape stuff though, most people didn't recognise her without it.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, not really caring about the unmasking of a bunch of rogues. It had nothing to do with her, except the fact that BB was here now and talking to her.
"I want to hire you and your little gang to do a job for me," the distractingly pretty woman answered, leaning back and putting her hands on her hips, her chest pushed out.
Bitch never had anything to do with deciding on their jobs. She left that to Tattletale and Grue, and she knew most of their work really came from the boss, they weren't actually an independent group they just did what they were told. But she also knew that their connection to the boss was supposed to be secret, so what was she meant to do when someone offered work?
"How much?" she asked the first question that came to mind. If the money wasn't good it wasn't even worth hearing what the job was.
"A hundred thousand dollars."
January 1, 2011
9:30
A hundred thousand dollars was a pretty good motivator to getting the other Undersiders out of bed. They still moaned and grumbled when she banged on their doors and told them to get up for a team meeting, but they did it, just like she did whenever Brian came and bothered her.
"I got offered a job for the team," she said once everyone was downstairs, looking around the other three members of the team.
Lisa, her blonde hair down and mussed from sleep, looked at her with wide eyes as she stood in place wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
Flopping onto the couch, Alec was already grabbing the TV remote, similarly dressed to Lisa. "Great, we all gonna have to help out at the dog shelter?"
Brian had already been up when she came back, although with his shorts and tank-top on he'd probably been exercising. "Rachel…" he started in a tone that was hard for her to decipher, "Since when did you take job offers?"
"Since today. She found me when I was walking my dogs. Offered a hundred thousand dollars for us to take a job. I said I'd talk to you." Which was exactly what she was doing, it wasn't that complicated.
"Who offered?" Brian pressed, stepping closer and leaning over her, making her lower her gaze away from his eyes.
"BB, from that rogue group Jumpco. She wants us to find someone and help take them down," she answered.
She thought it was pretty surprising that a bunch of rogues would hire out a small-time group like hers for mercenary work, but the other Undersiders seemed even more surprised.
"BB? That BB?!"
"Holy shit, right after all the big news about Advent?"
"Rachel did you not read- did you not watch the news?"
The last comment came from Brian, and she just looked back at everyone in confusion. Was there something she was missing?
"Ugh, of course she didn't," Lisa groaned, reaching over to snatch the remote from Alec's hand and turning on the TV to a news channel showing a reporter standing outside one of the concrete business parks that were common in the south of the city.
"… today being a federal holiday, Jumpco's offices are closed but I'm standing here with, as you can see, quite a large crowd of onlookers, waiting to see if there'll be an announcement regarding the allegations made around the cape Advent, up until now better known for performing corporate optimisation seminars and holding the PRT threat rating of a mere Thinker two."
Lisa made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "No one's saying anything useful, but the point is the mother of all bombs just got dropped about Advent's power and nature last night while you were asleep. I was up late reading it all."
"She did say they'd all been unmasked, she wasn't in costume when she met me," Rachel said, that part at least making sense.
"Why the hell would someone associated to a guy who's on the verge of an S-class threat rating want to hire us? We're as small-time as it gets," Brian complained, which annoyed Rachel because of how often she'd heard him complaining about how they needed to build up their reputation.
"… she's seen the ending," Lisa said, her posture going slack before she looked around the three of them with wide eyes. "That document, it said Advent has preconceived notions about people as if they were part of a story. If there was a book about us, we'd be in the early chapters right now where we're still setting up, but she must know how the story ends."
"Ding ding ding ding!" an excited and girlish voice rang out, seeming to come from everywhere. "Five BB points for Tattletale! Excellent deduction!" the sound party poppers went off and colourful streamers of paper were blasted all over the room, falling over them as everyone looked around wildly for the source. Rachel looked down at her dogs but they only seemed to be picking up on the surprise of the Undersiders, not detecting any intruders.
"She's in here with us. Fuck!" Lisa swore venomously as she looked around and Brian glared down at Rachel.
"You let her follow you in here?" he demanded, and she felt the judgement in his words. She hadn't though. She'd parted ways from BB at the beach, and neither she nor her dogs had noticed any sign of her as they came back to the Loft.
"My dogs can't smell her, and she can turn herself invisible!" she protested, it wasn't her fault not being able to deal with that!
"It's not invisibility, it's-"
"Total sensory override," BB spoke over Lisa as she appeared at the edge of the kitchen, looking back at them.
"Brutus, hurt," she ordered. Job or not, hundred thousand dollars or not, she couldn't let this slide. But her dog didn't move, he was just sitting and panting happily, Judas and Angelica likewise.
"Puppy can't hear you, it works on dogs too," BB answered as she vanished and reappeared by Brutus, reaching down to scratch his neck and drawing a pleased rumbling noise from the dog. Alec had sprung up from the sofa now and was gesturing at her, while Rachel clenched her fist and swung out at the unmasked cape who was messing with her dog.
Her fist passed through her like it was Shadow Stalker's breaker state.
"You're just imagining that you can see and hear me, I'm not actually here. Even Brutus just imagined he was getting some nice scratches," BB said, baring her teeth and making Rachel want to punch her again. Instead she looked around, trying to see if she could find any trace of the real BB so she could punch her instead.
"Grue, smoke the room," Tattletale instructed while she was looking around as well. Hopefully that thinker power of hers would come in where every other sense was failing. She braced herself for that feeling of being cut-off from everything as the black smoke exploded out from Grue, filling the Loft. It cut off sound, the TV's droning reporting, the faint hum of electricity, the panting of her dogs, the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat pounding in her skull.
There was nothing she could do. Moving would just get in the way of whatever Grue and Tattletale were trying. If anyone was fighting she couldn't perceive it or get involved. All she could do was wait for a chance.
The smoke faded, noise and vision coming back. BB was being bent over and held in an armlock by Grue next to the TV.
BB was lifting Grue into the air in a choke-hold by the coffee table.
BB and Grue were grappling each other by the couch.
BB was pinned against the kitchen table with her legs locked around Grue's waist.
BB and Grue were pulling each other's hair by the fridge.
BB was standing triumphantly atop Grue's fallen form at the foot of the stairs.
"Oh what the fuck," Alec said in frustration as he looked around, the feeling one Rachel was able to understand and relate to with ease.
Lisa was looking around too, her eyes narrowed and her lips moving before she said, "None of them are real, they're all fake. Alright, BB, you've made your point."
"Ding ding ding ding! Five more BB points for Tattletale! Keep it up and you'll win a special prize!" all of the BBs declared, even the ones seeming to be locked in combat. Then they faded like smoke and an additional BB appeared holding Grue's arms behind his back on the other side of the TV from the two that had been in a mirror of that pose. She let go and gave him a little nudge as she said, "Only one BB point for Grue though, it's no good finding me if you can't catch me!" one of her eyes closed in an exaggerated wink as she stepped back from him and Tattletale.
"She's a brute too, that wasn't normal strength," Brian said, rubbing his arms as he stepped back and turned around to face the unmasked rogue who'd snuck into their base. "If you're looking to hire us for a job, this isn't a way to build goodwill."
"Maybe not, BB just can't help but be a bit of a bully sometimes, especially to smug know-it-all girls like Tattletale," she answered with a grating giggle. "But I think you'll take the job anyway. And not just for the money."
What other reason was there to do a job?
"You sure you're gonna be good for the money anyway?" Alec spoke up from the couch he'd slouched back onto at some point, gesturing to the TV. "It looks like your office is about to get trashed."
Chapter 4
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 1, 2011
09:15
It felt weird to be standing out here. Like some kind of cape groupie, getting up early on a school holiday to go gawk at a nondescript office building on the edge of town. No school, no Wards duties, he should have been in bed enjoying a lazy morning.
Instead he was here, along with a couple dozen other people all hanging around outside of the Jumpco office. What were they even hoping for, really? If half the stuff said in that document was true couldn't Advent just deluge them in a wave of that mind-breaking black mud?
But then, if he did that, was anywhere in the city really safe? He wondered how many people were getting out of town right now just to be safe. He'd only been a kid when the Simurgh first descended in Lausanne, but if anyone had thought to leave the city immediately they'd definitely have been proven right in the decision.
So why was he here?
It just felt too… obvious. The document was too detailed, sure it left some questions, but it stripped away so much mystery like surrounded the Endbringers. Hell, it outright name-dropped the Simurgh and pointed to her fallibility in the same sentence as Scion and someone or something called Contessa.
Probably there was some top tier precog out there who'd kept themselves to the shadows and was feeling really miffed over having their name and fallibility broadcast like that.
Dungeons and Dragons. Video games from Earth Aleph. Powers and histories based on them… he'd been following the discussions, people had been trying and failing to find any trace of Elden Ring or Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon – and what a name that was, but nothing had been found. Media from another variant earth, or maybe from the future? No one knew, but if someone was working on them they were probably gonna have to revise them because of all the spoilers put in the Document.
The same Document he'd had sent to his Wards email address at the same time as it got posted on PHO. It was all too much for a prank, but too bizarre to feel real. And that's why he was here with these other people, wanting to see a sign if any of it was real.
Besides, Advent had a time power too, if a much shittier costume, so there was a sense of connection there. Even if that time power turned out to only be the secondary Thinker aspect to a far more powerful Blaster ability. And Dea Saint was supposed to be a medical tinker. It said right there on the sign, 'Medical technology' right underneath business consulting and sensory experiences. What kind of tinker-tech cures did she have access to but was having to hold back because of red tape and pharmaceutical company lobbying? What cures might she make available now in defiance of the law because Advent believed it was the right thing to do?
Just being here wasn't helping answer those questions, not really. But he wanted to be here on the ground in case anything did happen. Even if it was something bad, he might still be able to help even if he was here out of costume and off the clock.
Off the clock was a good one, he got a lot of mileage out of it with the other Wards.
"Excuse me, young man, do you have time to answer some questions?" the pretty blonde reporter had come over with her camera-man, microphone in hand identifying her as being with Channel Nine News. Not CNN though, none of the big networks were around, it was just a local news van.
"Sorry, bit camera shy," he answered, stepping back with his hands raised as the reporter didn't waste any more time and moved on to accost a girl a few years older than him nearby. It just seemed like vox pop type stuff, but even if he was out of costume he knew Piggot would have his ass for giving an interview on a developing situation like this.
He took a look over at the Jumpco building. Lights were on and people were moving around inside, they definitely weren't taking the day off whatever they were doing in there. A security guard was standing out front by the door, a big middle-aged asian guy with buzzed hair, built like a brick shithouse.
Dennis wondered if he was just a regular guy who kept in shape, or if he had that Falna enhancement the Document spoke about. Or maybe some medical tinker-tech juicing him up. He hadn't had to do more than just stand in front of the door and bark out that the office was closed to keep anyone from pressing in too close.
Tuning out the sound of the girl nearby talking about how a friend had hired out BB for a birthday party and how they'd gotten to 'go to the moon' and experience low gravity, which was a hell of a thing for suggesting the depths to which BB could fool the senses, he took out his phone to check the discussion thread on PHO again.
Of course the original post had been deleted, and direct links were banned, as unmasking Advent broke site rules. But they couldn't contain the discussion, and everyone knew how to find the Document off-site with how it had proliferated. A lot of people were still catching up, but there was tons of analysis scattered amidst the clueless questions and shitposting.
Apparently using the Dungeons & Dragons rules people had extrapolated that Advent was a 'Young Time Dragon' and could reach the 'Juvenile' stage between 1d12 hours and 1d2 millennia, at which point he'd gain access to 6th level spells.
He felt like an incredible dork for understanding all of that.
Though not as dorky as the people critiquing Advent's 'build' as if he were a character in a tabletop game.
There was a hubbub from the crowd and calls to look up, which had Dennis lowering his phone and looking at the roof of the office building, where Iron Fist's distinctive near spherical form was ascending into the sky and then flying north deeper into the city.
He'd met the guy a few times while doing photo-op patrols with the Wards. He had a fun overly dramatic attitude like he was acting in a play, but he never broke character. Everyone had theories, but Dennis was pretty sure he was a Changer. His appearance was too sculpted to be a Case 53, and if he was in some goofy Tinker power armour why did he never make anything else? Sure he used his own brand of containment foam sometimes, but that was probably made by Dea Saint. He definitely moved around way too much and too far to be a projection controlled by some hidden Master.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, unlike the one he was holding in his hand, and he quickly stepped away to get some space from the other onlookers before he swapped devices and checked his Wards phone. He wasn't being called in himself, but he was being alerted that there was an active situation in the Docks with E88 attacking the ABB. He sent in a quick text saying he was outside Jumpco and had seen Iron Fist flying north, as it was probably related.
But why the hell would the Empire be pushing at this time of day, on this day even? Most of the ABB would probably be waiting for Chinese New Year next month, while the Empire was more likely to have its guys be hungover and tired.
Could Othala fix hangovers?
As he mulled over that, the front door to Jumpco opened, that big security guard making way for two people to step out. The first was easy to recognise as Dea Saint in her usual costume except she'd ditched her mask and her hair was now a blue-ish silvery hue. And he had to say, she was cute, like the kind of girl you'd look twice at on the street even if you were with another girl cute.
BB was the one who had the sex appeal reputation in the rogue group given her costume, but damn, take off the mask and Dea Saint gave serious competition.
It was almost a struggle to look at the other person emerging with her. He wasn't wearing a costume but a suit, even if it was a flashy one. A green sports jacket with cream coloured pants and a black shirt, he was built similarly to the security guard and just a little shorter – though both men towered over Dea Saint.
The news crew had their camera trained on the two of them as they strode out onto the car park, several more Jumpco security guards following them and spreading out. "Everyone, my name is Advent," he called out, projecting his voice through the brisk winter morning. "I'm sure you've all come here because you're very curious about the revelations that came out last night. But, if I could ask you all to move to the far side of the car park first, everything will become clear soon. The security here will help keep you safe."
"Safe from what?!" a man's voice called out even as people started shuffling in the indicated direction, the men in their blue security guard uniforms spreading out to form a cordon and move them along.
On one hand Dennis was a little relieved Advent had seemingly ditched his costume now he was unmasked. It gave a bad name to clock-themed capes with how garbage it looked. On the other… well, no offence to New Wave, but unmasked capes tended to be a lot more dangerous and unpredictable. They had far less to lose.
He moved with the crowd for the moment, keeping himself to the edges in case he needed to break away for any reason. He didn't have his own costume and had been seen on camera just now, so even putting his temporary mask over his head wouldn't be fool-proof, but if shit went down he wasn't going to be a bystander.
"Safe from them," Advent answered as seemingly on cue, a trio of vans came screaming down the road, swerving over the grassy embankment surrounding the car park, while floating above them came a stone platform carrying a girl in red and black robes, a man wearing a black leather coat and a gas mask, and another man in shiny metal armour holding an unwieldy looking long spear.
It looked nicer than the dumpster he'd last seen Rune riding around on, but chauffeuring one of her bosses out in daylight where cameras were on them probably called for something a little more photogenic.
The vans were opening up, disgorging a swarm of tattooed skinheads, but mixed among them were even more capes. Othala in her red bodysuit sticking close to Victor, the blond-haired man wearing an armoured black breastplate. Alabaster, not even an albino but simply pure white from skin to hair to eyes, wearing a matching pure white suit.
Six Empire capes and four times that many unpowered thugs.
Against what until yesterday everyone believed was a low level Thinker and an underutilized Tinker. Jumpco relied a lot on Iron Fist for protection, though many were wary of BB's sensory manipulating powers. And neither of those two were around.
But if all the stuff in the Document was correct, Advent was up there with the Triumvirate, with the Endbringers. Either the Empire had brought in gross overkill… or not enough.
The fact Advent seemed to know they were coming… well, that was the sort of thing a scheduling Thinker might be capable of, but either way Dennis felt like he was taking things way more calmly than most rogues would be as Crusader began generating his phantasmal projections and Rune brought her floating platform low, more stones orbiting around it.
"Advent! Ve haff seen you for vot you are," Kreig began in that offensively over-done German accent which Vicky claimed he dropped when she used her aura on him.
Dennis was already moving though. Others were holding up their phones to record, and the news crew was getting it all, but he he was moving away from the crowd, sending a quick text to the PRT console letting them know which Empire capes were present and that he was preparing to assist. It wasn't exactly t-shirt weather but his coat was too big a tell when he'd been on camera just now, so he dropped by a dumpster around the back of the Jumpco office, no one obviously around looking here when all the action was on the other side of the building. Pulling his temporary white mask on like a balaclava, he managed to run back around just as Krieg seemed to be finishing up his grandstanding, Advent and Dea Saint seemingly having just let them prepare.
"-and unlike ze moribund authorities hamstrung by political correctness, we will protect zis city!"
Clockblocker hadn't been spotted yet, the Empire group's focus all on Advent and Dea Saint who were standing together in the middle of the parking lot, the crowd and news crew all at the opposite side from the nazis.
"Political correctness… haha, I'm used to them calling it 'woke' but I guess we're a bit early for that," Advent chuckled but he projected his voice loud enough for Clockblocker to hear him easily. "Alright, everyone's wondering if I'm really so dangerous, but if you really believed I was going to break your minds with magic mud you wouldn't even be here. Maybe it's just a good chance to steal Dea Saint's tinker-tech, she's some real competition and not just for Othala, huh?"
"You… get him!" Kreig suddenly yelled, gesturing forward, the Empire thugs clearly not believing they were about to face a time dragon or anything else freaky like that as they rushed towards the two unmasked capes supported by a swarm of ghostly Crusader duplicates flying over their heads. Alabaster was right in the thick of them while Victor followed more in the rear just after getting some kind of power from Othala.
That was Clockblocker's target as he started running from his position hunched at the corner of the office building. Freezing Othala wouldn't take away whatever power she'd given Victor, but it'd stop her giving more when that one ran out.
Then there was a sudden reversal as most of the Empire thugs skidded or fell over, dropping their weapons and retreating in a mad panic. Othala was staring, colour draining from her face below her mask and seeming too shaken by what she was seeing to even notice Clockblocker slapping a hand on her and freezing her in place with that stricken expression.
Only a handful of Empire goons were still pushing forward, Alabaster and Victor among them. Crusader's duplicates seemed unaffected as well, although given the position of Rune's platform the Master might have been out of range of Advent's 'frightful presence' that was being used.
Several burly men with swastika tattoos ran right past him and Othala without slowing down, their eyes wide with fear. Beating down minorities as part of a sick gang initiation doesn't count as making you an experienced combatant, who knew? He reached out to freeze several of them in place as they came into arms-reach, but then he had to retreat as more Crusader ghosts started coming down in his direction. From experience he knew he could freeze those ghosts as well as anything else, but managing to tag a spear before it perforated him was a tricky proposition.
He started moving back towards the other two presumably friendly capes. Alabaster took a punch to the head that sent him down and out, his white figure skidding across grey asphalt while Victor got right up in Advent's face without any fear, taking a similarly powerful looking punch that didn't so much as move him.
Invincibility. That was the power Othala must have given him, and though it meant Victor's own attacks lacked anything to set him above a normal man, he was still skilled and clearly knew how to work around the limitation as he went for grabs and holds to try and restrain Advent. Advent seemed just as used to that kind of combat though, the two going back and forth in a way that made him wonder if Victor's invincibility would give out first or Advent would have his combat skill stolen away first.
He rushed towards Alabaster though, knowing he'd be back up in seconds unless someone with a better time-based power put him in time-out for longer.
"Hey Clockfag, think fast!" a yell from Rune had him turn just in time for a football sized rock to catch him in the chest, dropping him on his ass and experiencing agony, his lungs emptied from the impact and feeling like they weren't taking in any air to bring back what was lost.
He still tried to grope an arm in Alabaster's direction but it was too far as the Empire cape's form shimmered and he pushed himself upright, fully recovered from whatever knockout blow Advent had just inflicted.
Okay that thought about having a better time-based power felt like hubris now. Or maybe that was the feel of a broken rib shifting around in his chest, it was hard to tell.
On the plus side he had a great view as some kind of golden pillar of light descended onto Rune's platform. Had Scion shown up to this party? Hearing Rune's scream as her platform shattered and she plummeted to the ground gave him a nice dose of schadenfreude, but while Crusader also fell badly Kreig seemed better able to handle it as he landed smoothly on his feet and then started advancing towards the melee.
Hurting as he was, Clockblocker picked himself up as well. Crusader's ghosts were still fighting, though their spears were unable to penetrate Advent's skin. Several more nazi thugs were on the ground around Dea Saint, a fading golden glow around her like what he'd just seen hammer down on Rune's platform, and Alabaster was rejoining the fight alongside Victor.
"Clockblocker, let me heal you!" came a call from the bio-tinker, and while he might have expected some kind of advanced medicine, maybe a healing spray like from a video game, instead a golden magic circle glowed around her feet, and then a wave of gold light travelled out towards him. Having just seen what it did to Rune and friends he couldn't help but tense – which only aggravated the pain in his chest, but then it reached him and faded out, his breath suddenly coming easier, his whole body rejuvenated.
If that was magic he'd take it! Grinning under his mask, he moved to get in Kreig's way. He knew the guy could hit hard, manipulating kinetic forces to make himself an effective brute, probably how he'd survived whatever had taken Rune and Crusader out, but all Clockblocker had to do was touch him and he'd be out of action.
"Stand aside, idiot boy. We're not here for you!" came the frustrated Mid-Atlantic sounding voice from behind the gas mask.
"Your accent's slipping," he taunted in turn, moving to intercept the nazi villain. A decision he started to regret as he got closer and it became hard to breathe, the air thickening so it felt like moving through water and was hard to actually inhale anything as he moved with leaden footsteps closer towards Kreig's implacable stride.
This was gonna suck. Even moving his arm to try and reach him was too slow, the movement one that was sure to be easily dodged while Kreig kept walking like it was nothing. Kreig raised his hand, and Clockblocker could see the attack coming, a contemptuous backhand that'd send him across the parking lot, chumped twice by nazis in the one fight. At least taking a solid hit from Kreig was more impressive than getting smacked down by Rune. Still he tried to counter, arm pushing through molasses in the air, committing fully to his own attack for all the good it would do him.
Then a golden explosion detonated against Kreig's chest, forces muted by his power, but still enough to stagger him. His arms reared back, flailing as his body was staggered, and despite the slowness Clockblocker was able to tag the man's jacket. He froze in that pose, and suddenly his power cut out allowing Clockblocker to move and breathe easily.
Turning back, he saw Alabaster was flat on the ground once more, and with no one in the way he started running over to freeze him before he got back up. Meanwhile Advent had a glowing blue aura around him as he grabbed a bicycle from the rack of them running along the front of the office building, hoisting it up and then slamming it through Victor.
That was the only way to describe it, the bike phasing through the temporarily invincible cape like they were both nothing more than holograms, and yet Victor clearly felt it as he dropped like a sack of potatoes in the aftermath. Was that some weird power interaction? The Sting power that ignored durability? It should've killed him if so, but… the Rubber Fists power said he could tune the damage of any other power.
There was only one nazi potentially still on the field, but Clockblocker hit him before he could get up, freezing Alabaster to match Kreig and Othala. Not a bad haul for him, if they could get them all restrained before the freeze wore off. And assuming Rune and Crusader weren't about to get back up. He didn't have any zip-ties or anything on him, but Jumpco security guards were moving to restrain the unconscious and time-frozen nazis now that the fight was over, and Advent was declaring, "Now, while we wait for the PRT to come collect these criminals, I think I can make time for a few questions."
09:15
It felt weird to be standing out here. Like some kind of cape groupie, getting up early on a school holiday to go gawk at a nondescript office building on the edge of town. No school, no Wards duties, he should have been in bed enjoying a lazy morning.
Instead he was here, along with a couple dozen other people all hanging around outside of the Jumpco office. What were they even hoping for, really? If half the stuff said in that document was true couldn't Advent just deluge them in a wave of that mind-breaking black mud?
But then, if he did that, was anywhere in the city really safe? He wondered how many people were getting out of town right now just to be safe. He'd only been a kid when the Simurgh first descended in Lausanne, but if anyone had thought to leave the city immediately they'd definitely have been proven right in the decision.
So why was he here?
It just felt too… obvious. The document was too detailed, sure it left some questions, but it stripped away so much mystery like surrounded the Endbringers. Hell, it outright name-dropped the Simurgh and pointed to her fallibility in the same sentence as Scion and someone or something called Contessa.
Probably there was some top tier precog out there who'd kept themselves to the shadows and was feeling really miffed over having their name and fallibility broadcast like that.
Dungeons and Dragons. Video games from Earth Aleph. Powers and histories based on them… he'd been following the discussions, people had been trying and failing to find any trace of Elden Ring or Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon – and what a name that was, but nothing had been found. Media from another variant earth, or maybe from the future? No one knew, but if someone was working on them they were probably gonna have to revise them because of all the spoilers put in the Document.
The same Document he'd had sent to his Wards email address at the same time as it got posted on PHO. It was all too much for a prank, but too bizarre to feel real. And that's why he was here with these other people, wanting to see a sign if any of it was real.
Besides, Advent had a time power too, if a much shittier costume, so there was a sense of connection there. Even if that time power turned out to only be the secondary Thinker aspect to a far more powerful Blaster ability. And Dea Saint was supposed to be a medical tinker. It said right there on the sign, 'Medical technology' right underneath business consulting and sensory experiences. What kind of tinker-tech cures did she have access to but was having to hold back because of red tape and pharmaceutical company lobbying? What cures might she make available now in defiance of the law because Advent believed it was the right thing to do?
Just being here wasn't helping answer those questions, not really. But he wanted to be here on the ground in case anything did happen. Even if it was something bad, he might still be able to help even if he was here out of costume and off the clock.
Off the clock was a good one, he got a lot of mileage out of it with the other Wards.
"Excuse me, young man, do you have time to answer some questions?" the pretty blonde reporter had come over with her camera-man, microphone in hand identifying her as being with Channel Nine News. Not CNN though, none of the big networks were around, it was just a local news van.
"Sorry, bit camera shy," he answered, stepping back with his hands raised as the reporter didn't waste any more time and moved on to accost a girl a few years older than him nearby. It just seemed like vox pop type stuff, but even if he was out of costume he knew Piggot would have his ass for giving an interview on a developing situation like this.
He took a look over at the Jumpco building. Lights were on and people were moving around inside, they definitely weren't taking the day off whatever they were doing in there. A security guard was standing out front by the door, a big middle-aged asian guy with buzzed hair, built like a brick shithouse.
Dennis wondered if he was just a regular guy who kept in shape, or if he had that Falna enhancement the Document spoke about. Or maybe some medical tinker-tech juicing him up. He hadn't had to do more than just stand in front of the door and bark out that the office was closed to keep anyone from pressing in too close.
Tuning out the sound of the girl nearby talking about how a friend had hired out BB for a birthday party and how they'd gotten to 'go to the moon' and experience low gravity, which was a hell of a thing for suggesting the depths to which BB could fool the senses, he took out his phone to check the discussion thread on PHO again.
Of course the original post had been deleted, and direct links were banned, as unmasking Advent broke site rules. But they couldn't contain the discussion, and everyone knew how to find the Document off-site with how it had proliferated. A lot of people were still catching up, but there was tons of analysis scattered amidst the clueless questions and shitposting.
Apparently using the Dungeons & Dragons rules people had extrapolated that Advent was a 'Young Time Dragon' and could reach the 'Juvenile' stage between 1d12 hours and 1d2 millennia, at which point he'd gain access to 6th level spells.
He felt like an incredible dork for understanding all of that.
Though not as dorky as the people critiquing Advent's 'build' as if he were a character in a tabletop game.
There was a hubbub from the crowd and calls to look up, which had Dennis lowering his phone and looking at the roof of the office building, where Iron Fist's distinctive near spherical form was ascending into the sky and then flying north deeper into the city.
He'd met the guy a few times while doing photo-op patrols with the Wards. He had a fun overly dramatic attitude like he was acting in a play, but he never broke character. Everyone had theories, but Dennis was pretty sure he was a Changer. His appearance was too sculpted to be a Case 53, and if he was in some goofy Tinker power armour why did he never make anything else? Sure he used his own brand of containment foam sometimes, but that was probably made by Dea Saint. He definitely moved around way too much and too far to be a projection controlled by some hidden Master.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, unlike the one he was holding in his hand, and he quickly stepped away to get some space from the other onlookers before he swapped devices and checked his Wards phone. He wasn't being called in himself, but he was being alerted that there was an active situation in the Docks with E88 attacking the ABB. He sent in a quick text saying he was outside Jumpco and had seen Iron Fist flying north, as it was probably related.
But why the hell would the Empire be pushing at this time of day, on this day even? Most of the ABB would probably be waiting for Chinese New Year next month, while the Empire was more likely to have its guys be hungover and tired.
Could Othala fix hangovers?
As he mulled over that, the front door to Jumpco opened, that big security guard making way for two people to step out. The first was easy to recognise as Dea Saint in her usual costume except she'd ditched her mask and her hair was now a blue-ish silvery hue. And he had to say, she was cute, like the kind of girl you'd look twice at on the street even if you were with another girl cute.
BB was the one who had the sex appeal reputation in the rogue group given her costume, but damn, take off the mask and Dea Saint gave serious competition.
It was almost a struggle to look at the other person emerging with her. He wasn't wearing a costume but a suit, even if it was a flashy one. A green sports jacket with cream coloured pants and a black shirt, he was built similarly to the security guard and just a little shorter – though both men towered over Dea Saint.
The news crew had their camera trained on the two of them as they strode out onto the car park, several more Jumpco security guards following them and spreading out. "Everyone, my name is Advent," he called out, projecting his voice through the brisk winter morning. "I'm sure you've all come here because you're very curious about the revelations that came out last night. But, if I could ask you all to move to the far side of the car park first, everything will become clear soon. The security here will help keep you safe."
"Safe from what?!" a man's voice called out even as people started shuffling in the indicated direction, the men in their blue security guard uniforms spreading out to form a cordon and move them along.
On one hand Dennis was a little relieved Advent had seemingly ditched his costume now he was unmasked. It gave a bad name to clock-themed capes with how garbage it looked. On the other… well, no offence to New Wave, but unmasked capes tended to be a lot more dangerous and unpredictable. They had far less to lose.
He moved with the crowd for the moment, keeping himself to the edges in case he needed to break away for any reason. He didn't have his own costume and had been seen on camera just now, so even putting his temporary mask over his head wouldn't be fool-proof, but if shit went down he wasn't going to be a bystander.
"Safe from them," Advent answered as seemingly on cue, a trio of vans came screaming down the road, swerving over the grassy embankment surrounding the car park, while floating above them came a stone platform carrying a girl in red and black robes, a man wearing a black leather coat and a gas mask, and another man in shiny metal armour holding an unwieldy looking long spear.
It looked nicer than the dumpster he'd last seen Rune riding around on, but chauffeuring one of her bosses out in daylight where cameras were on them probably called for something a little more photogenic.
The vans were opening up, disgorging a swarm of tattooed skinheads, but mixed among them were even more capes. Othala in her red bodysuit sticking close to Victor, the blond-haired man wearing an armoured black breastplate. Alabaster, not even an albino but simply pure white from skin to hair to eyes, wearing a matching pure white suit.
Six Empire capes and four times that many unpowered thugs.
Against what until yesterday everyone believed was a low level Thinker and an underutilized Tinker. Jumpco relied a lot on Iron Fist for protection, though many were wary of BB's sensory manipulating powers. And neither of those two were around.
But if all the stuff in the Document was correct, Advent was up there with the Triumvirate, with the Endbringers. Either the Empire had brought in gross overkill… or not enough.
The fact Advent seemed to know they were coming… well, that was the sort of thing a scheduling Thinker might be capable of, but either way Dennis felt like he was taking things way more calmly than most rogues would be as Crusader began generating his phantasmal projections and Rune brought her floating platform low, more stones orbiting around it.
"Advent! Ve haff seen you for vot you are," Kreig began in that offensively over-done German accent which Vicky claimed he dropped when she used her aura on him.
Dennis was already moving though. Others were holding up their phones to record, and the news crew was getting it all, but he he was moving away from the crowd, sending a quick text to the PRT console letting them know which Empire capes were present and that he was preparing to assist. It wasn't exactly t-shirt weather but his coat was too big a tell when he'd been on camera just now, so he dropped by a dumpster around the back of the Jumpco office, no one obviously around looking here when all the action was on the other side of the building. Pulling his temporary white mask on like a balaclava, he managed to run back around just as Krieg seemed to be finishing up his grandstanding, Advent and Dea Saint seemingly having just let them prepare.
"-and unlike ze moribund authorities hamstrung by political correctness, we will protect zis city!"
Clockblocker hadn't been spotted yet, the Empire group's focus all on Advent and Dea Saint who were standing together in the middle of the parking lot, the crowd and news crew all at the opposite side from the nazis.
"Political correctness… haha, I'm used to them calling it 'woke' but I guess we're a bit early for that," Advent chuckled but he projected his voice loud enough for Clockblocker to hear him easily. "Alright, everyone's wondering if I'm really so dangerous, but if you really believed I was going to break your minds with magic mud you wouldn't even be here. Maybe it's just a good chance to steal Dea Saint's tinker-tech, she's some real competition and not just for Othala, huh?"
"You… get him!" Kreig suddenly yelled, gesturing forward, the Empire thugs clearly not believing they were about to face a time dragon or anything else freaky like that as they rushed towards the two unmasked capes supported by a swarm of ghostly Crusader duplicates flying over their heads. Alabaster was right in the thick of them while Victor followed more in the rear just after getting some kind of power from Othala.
That was Clockblocker's target as he started running from his position hunched at the corner of the office building. Freezing Othala wouldn't take away whatever power she'd given Victor, but it'd stop her giving more when that one ran out.
Then there was a sudden reversal as most of the Empire thugs skidded or fell over, dropping their weapons and retreating in a mad panic. Othala was staring, colour draining from her face below her mask and seeming too shaken by what she was seeing to even notice Clockblocker slapping a hand on her and freezing her in place with that stricken expression.
Only a handful of Empire goons were still pushing forward, Alabaster and Victor among them. Crusader's duplicates seemed unaffected as well, although given the position of Rune's platform the Master might have been out of range of Advent's 'frightful presence' that was being used.
Several burly men with swastika tattoos ran right past him and Othala without slowing down, their eyes wide with fear. Beating down minorities as part of a sick gang initiation doesn't count as making you an experienced combatant, who knew? He reached out to freeze several of them in place as they came into arms-reach, but then he had to retreat as more Crusader ghosts started coming down in his direction. From experience he knew he could freeze those ghosts as well as anything else, but managing to tag a spear before it perforated him was a tricky proposition.
He started moving back towards the other two presumably friendly capes. Alabaster took a punch to the head that sent him down and out, his white figure skidding across grey asphalt while Victor got right up in Advent's face without any fear, taking a similarly powerful looking punch that didn't so much as move him.
Invincibility. That was the power Othala must have given him, and though it meant Victor's own attacks lacked anything to set him above a normal man, he was still skilled and clearly knew how to work around the limitation as he went for grabs and holds to try and restrain Advent. Advent seemed just as used to that kind of combat though, the two going back and forth in a way that made him wonder if Victor's invincibility would give out first or Advent would have his combat skill stolen away first.
He rushed towards Alabaster though, knowing he'd be back up in seconds unless someone with a better time-based power put him in time-out for longer.
"Hey Clockfag, think fast!" a yell from Rune had him turn just in time for a football sized rock to catch him in the chest, dropping him on his ass and experiencing agony, his lungs emptied from the impact and feeling like they weren't taking in any air to bring back what was lost.
He still tried to grope an arm in Alabaster's direction but it was too far as the Empire cape's form shimmered and he pushed himself upright, fully recovered from whatever knockout blow Advent had just inflicted.
Okay that thought about having a better time-based power felt like hubris now. Or maybe that was the feel of a broken rib shifting around in his chest, it was hard to tell.
On the plus side he had a great view as some kind of golden pillar of light descended onto Rune's platform. Had Scion shown up to this party? Hearing Rune's scream as her platform shattered and she plummeted to the ground gave him a nice dose of schadenfreude, but while Crusader also fell badly Kreig seemed better able to handle it as he landed smoothly on his feet and then started advancing towards the melee.
Hurting as he was, Clockblocker picked himself up as well. Crusader's ghosts were still fighting, though their spears were unable to penetrate Advent's skin. Several more nazi thugs were on the ground around Dea Saint, a fading golden glow around her like what he'd just seen hammer down on Rune's platform, and Alabaster was rejoining the fight alongside Victor.
"Clockblocker, let me heal you!" came a call from the bio-tinker, and while he might have expected some kind of advanced medicine, maybe a healing spray like from a video game, instead a golden magic circle glowed around her feet, and then a wave of gold light travelled out towards him. Having just seen what it did to Rune and friends he couldn't help but tense – which only aggravated the pain in his chest, but then it reached him and faded out, his breath suddenly coming easier, his whole body rejuvenated.
If that was magic he'd take it! Grinning under his mask, he moved to get in Kreig's way. He knew the guy could hit hard, manipulating kinetic forces to make himself an effective brute, probably how he'd survived whatever had taken Rune and Crusader out, but all Clockblocker had to do was touch him and he'd be out of action.
"Stand aside, idiot boy. We're not here for you!" came the frustrated Mid-Atlantic sounding voice from behind the gas mask.
"Your accent's slipping," he taunted in turn, moving to intercept the nazi villain. A decision he started to regret as he got closer and it became hard to breathe, the air thickening so it felt like moving through water and was hard to actually inhale anything as he moved with leaden footsteps closer towards Kreig's implacable stride.
This was gonna suck. Even moving his arm to try and reach him was too slow, the movement one that was sure to be easily dodged while Kreig kept walking like it was nothing. Kreig raised his hand, and Clockblocker could see the attack coming, a contemptuous backhand that'd send him across the parking lot, chumped twice by nazis in the one fight. At least taking a solid hit from Kreig was more impressive than getting smacked down by Rune. Still he tried to counter, arm pushing through molasses in the air, committing fully to his own attack for all the good it would do him.
Then a golden explosion detonated against Kreig's chest, forces muted by his power, but still enough to stagger him. His arms reared back, flailing as his body was staggered, and despite the slowness Clockblocker was able to tag the man's jacket. He froze in that pose, and suddenly his power cut out allowing Clockblocker to move and breathe easily.
Turning back, he saw Alabaster was flat on the ground once more, and with no one in the way he started running over to freeze him before he got back up. Meanwhile Advent had a glowing blue aura around him as he grabbed a bicycle from the rack of them running along the front of the office building, hoisting it up and then slamming it through Victor.
That was the only way to describe it, the bike phasing through the temporarily invincible cape like they were both nothing more than holograms, and yet Victor clearly felt it as he dropped like a sack of potatoes in the aftermath. Was that some weird power interaction? The Sting power that ignored durability? It should've killed him if so, but… the Rubber Fists power said he could tune the damage of any other power.
There was only one nazi potentially still on the field, but Clockblocker hit him before he could get up, freezing Alabaster to match Kreig and Othala. Not a bad haul for him, if they could get them all restrained before the freeze wore off. And assuming Rune and Crusader weren't about to get back up. He didn't have any zip-ties or anything on him, but Jumpco security guards were moving to restrain the unconscious and time-frozen nazis now that the fight was over, and Advent was declaring, "Now, while we wait for the PRT to come collect these criminals, I think I can make time for a few questions."
Chapter 5
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 1, 2011
15:00
Federal holiday or not, the PRT didn't take the day off. For all that, Emily was used to being able to take it easy around the new year, even in a city as fractious as Brockton Bay.
Not today however. The revelations about Advent might not have been given much credibility if not for how widely they'd been spread. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble for a prank, and then one of the gangs had believed it enough that they'd gone after him in force.
A pre-emptive strike because the document said he hated nazis? If it was just that then the Empire really was letting itself be led around by the nose.
But thanks to that they now had over half of the Empire's cape roster behind bars. And a degree of proof that Avent was far more than just a scheduling Thinker.
She set her coffee cup down on the table and eased herself into her chair, feeling the eyes of several capes and PRT analysts on her, in addition to the video-conference screens of others joining in from afar. Her boss was effectively in the room with her.
"Before we begin, I'd like to note the commendation Clockblocker has earned today," words she never thought she'd say. Even using that name where the Chief Director could hear felt embarrassing. "Despite being off duty, he showed the heroism that the Wards program is designed to foster, and proved instrumental in the capture of three dangerous parahumans." The words were stiff and scripted, because they were. All the same, it was a win and helped give them some control over the situation. "Congratulations and well done, Clockblocker."
"Thank you, Director," the teenager said almost as stiffly, now fully in costume where he sat between Triumph and Miss Militia, his blank clock-themed mask probably covering his embarrassment. Because of course when you made your name as a clown and rebel, there was nothing worse than being held up as a good example.
"Which brings us to the main subject. The 'Overview of the Jumper Advent' as it's titled. Everyone here received it directly in their email at midnight last night?" there were nods all around, even from the Chief Director conferencing in from her office in Washington. "Has there been any progress in finding the source?"
It was Dragon who answered, the world's premier tinker not an unknown fixture in the East North East department given her frequent collaborations with Armsmaster. "Unfortunately no, it's as if the data simply appeared on the central mail servers used by the Guild, Protectorate, and PRT before being sent to every account. And not just us – the FBI, the CIA, the IRS… every three letter agency you could name had it distributed, the same for overseas bodies, and even independent cape groups such as New Wave and the Elite have confirmed receiving the document in the email accounts they use for cape business."
"Villains too," agent Donaldson added. "The Empire capes brought in today haven't been cooperative, but Rune did mention receiving the email personally, not finding it online."
Which effectively meant whoever sent that message out knew how to access the obscured and secretive accounts used by villains just as easily as they could penetrate government servers. As concerning as the revelations about Advent were, the implied reach of his 'audience' was all the more concerning.
She took a sip of coffee and glanced down at the printout she had in front of her of the Document and its various appendices. She'd only read the overview, leaving it to her analysts to summarise the altogether too verbose appendices. They couldn't say they were short on information, imagine having something like this before going into action against a terrifying unknown parahuman. If she liked to think things would have been different with Nilbog if they knew better, this was a chance to prove it.
"At this point we can accept the words as true. Advent directly confirmed as much this morning, and we saw proof in the fight with the Empire capes. Frightful presence, sting, and rubber fists. Additionally Dea Saint displayed a previously undocumented blaster power that could be used to bombard targets at range, and heal injuries. These weren't mentioned, but we can take it to mean the other members of Jumpco will have similar abilities," she said, to bring them towards the main point of determining their response to Advent as things stood, and if they needed to bring him in or put him down.
"It wasn't just the blaster powers, she defeated several unpowered Empire members in close combat at the start of the engagement as well, the ones who kept going in the face of Advent's frightful presence, so by definition those were the more experienced fighters," Armsmaster spoke up. "She could have her body augmented with tinker-tech, or she could be a beneficiary of Advent's falna ability. Or both."
"We'll come back to that," she said, the whole falna thing being a huge can of worms by itself. "Staying on Advent himself for the moment? He first came to our attention in April of last year, when Jumpco was officially registered with the Secretary of the Commonwealth as a business in the state of Massachusetts, and applied for MIRIS funding and accreditation with the PRT. Owing to the presence of a Tinker in the group, Armsmaster handled the initial registration," she nodded to him to take over, having a sip of her now cooling coffee as the Protectorate head cleared his throat and began speaking.
"Thank you, Director. Initially Jumpco was seen as high risk for gang recruitment. Advent being a relatively minor Thinker, and Dea Saint being a Tinker who could specialise in human enhancement, they were seen as extremely vulnerable. A request was sent to Watchdog for appraisal and a violet rating was initially provided. However no conflict occurred in the initial month of Jumpco's founding, and the company found many local clients for Advent's business consulting services, while BB began using her stranger power for entertainment – corporate hospitality, birthday parties, things like that. Dea Saint however was unable to make much headway in selling her products and services, a fact she expressed her frustration with on occasions where I met with her," Armsmaster went over the initial founding of the company.
"Why was she having trouble?" Clockblocker spoke up, a few of the older heroes and agents turning to look at him for interrupting, but it was a valid question, and he kept going despite the looks he was getting. "Panacea can just walk into a hospital and start curing people with her power, what was stopping Dea Saint?"
Surprisingly it was the Chief Director who answered from the screen she was monitoring things from. "People are a lot more leery of medical tinker-tech because of the issues with maintenance and reliability. Either the treatments Dea Saint offers require frequent upkeep from a Tinker, which is bad for the patient, or they don't… and that's bad for the pharmaceutical industry. If all Dea Saint offered was surgical treatments to selected patients she'd probably be earning a very comfortable living, but because her goals are more widespread she faces more opposition from bigger players in her field."
"Yes, it's like the Chief Director says," Armsmaster picked up. "Dea Saint actually does have a highly advanced surgical suite that I inspected during her registration, but her primary interest lies in distributing cures for widespread diseases, and even getting approval to run drug trials has been difficult for her."
It was the sort of thing that forced Emily to reckon with her own prejudices. Would she let Panacea grow her new kidneys? Absolutely not. Would she let Dea Saint implant cloned or artificial kidneys? Still the same refusal. But what if there was just a better dialysis machine? What if a foil wrapped pill in a box from the pharmacy offered to alleviate her condition, but was derived from a Tinker's work somewhere down the chain?
She grumbled to herself and shoved the dilemma down, it wasn't something she actually had to confront in the real world, at least just yet. "We'll come back to Dea Saint's business prospects, but there's one more member to discuss. Iron Fist, the company's sponsored hero," she spoke up to get the meeting back on track. "Joining in May last year, he mostly patrols around the more prosperous parts of the city, seeming to be a standard Alexandria package despite his atypical appearance. He hasn't had many actual fights with other parahumans, although this morning he assisted in defusing a fight between E88 and the ABB, where he clearly overpowered Hookwolf and proved impervious to both his blades and the explosives deployed by Oni Lee."
She took a breath and a sip of coffee, checking the numbers on her own notes to verify them before she said, "That summarises the parahuman members of Jumpco as we knew them last year. Advent, rated as a Thinker 2, Dea Saint, Tinker 6, BB, Stranger 8, and Iron Fist, Brute 5, Mover 3. Now we have to make sense of all this," she lifted the sheaf of papers that comprised the Document, "And determine our response protocols to everything in it."
"Before that," Miss Milita spoke up, shifting in her seat, "What is our official policy towards Advent? Is he still even a rogue?"
She was about to get into that when covering one of his more alarming abilities, but she'd answer now and hope her boss didn't overrule her. "Advent has committed no crimes, and up until now has been a model rogue of the sort the PRT most wishes to support," she answered, her gaze shifting towards the screen showing Rebecca Costa-Brown who was watching without any sign of disapproval or disagreement. "In his public statements he has affirmed his good intentions, and in private conversation with Clockblocker and Dragon he has declared a willingness to assist the PRT in crisis situations. Which is good, but we have to consider the possibilities. If he actually used this Black Mud ability as it's described in here, he'd be considered an S-class threat. Brockton Bay would be walled off… and that wouldn't be enough because he could teleport as far away as Chicago or Savannah and do it again."
"Or go back in time to the Devonian epoch," Armsmaster interjected with a sour note in his voice.
"Uh, how worried should we be about that?" Triumph asked. "The mud's one thing, but if he goes back in time that far, couldn't the butterfly effect change everything?"
"Back then Brockton Bay would've been part of a mountain range around the same latitude as modern Buenos Aires. The surface was covered in primitive plant life and insects… it could be so far back literally nothing he could do wouldn't simply be erased by geological forces. Or he could bring back some modern bacteria that integrates itself into the ecosystem and completely alters the evolution of life on Earth," Armsmaster shook his head in a weary manner. Time travel powers weren't meant to go so far back. Except that was part of the problem, most of Advent's abilities weren't parahuman powers as all their research and experience understood them.
"So basically just hope he doesn't? Is that how we're going to treat him full stop?" Triumph pressed. "He can teleport a thousand miles, he can travel through time, he'd walk off a nuclear bomb, and even if we hit him with some kind of crazy power even stronger than that, he'd reappear within a day anyway. What are we actually supposed to do if he turns hostile?"
Emily understood the boy's frustration, but she couldn't allow that kind of defeatism to seep into her command. "That's what we're here to determine," she said firmly. "Even if our plans amount to nothing more than stalling for time to get civilians out of the effected area, we have a responsibility to prepare for the worst. Even if they're not perfect, we need plans to fall back on in the worst case scenario."
"Without knowing how the mud responds physically it would be hard to predict interactions with powers, but solidifying it with extreme heat, or using force-fields or terrain manipulation to limit it's spread would be the first thing to consider," Armsmaster spoke up, as ever someone she could rely on to see a problem and fixate on finding solutions.
She'd have to budget for incendiary devices. The department had been hamstrung for years in terms of budget and support, but one silver lining to this mess was that head office was suddenly taking them seriously again. The Chief Director's presence in the meeting was proof of that. And if they could actually keep today's haul of Empire capes off the streets, it might even give the city a little breathing room.
Of course it was inevitable the Empire would pull out all the stops to break their roster out of jail, that was why most of the local Protectorate would only be reading the minutes of this meeting, she needed them in the field not sitting around a table, even during a crisis like this.
They moved through other powers, straightforward or problematic. Having BB in the city already required a degree of Master-Stranger protocols, mostly focused around remote technological monitoring which she wouldn't be able to alter with sensory manipulation. Advent's remote viewing via a divine mirror was effectively unsolvable, while his Changer power could be handled with biometrics like retinal scanning. It was going to add more inconveniences to their daily operation, but it was the kind of thing the PRT had long and hard-won experience in.
The financial and organisational powers coupled with the instant paperwork one which she wasn't too proud to admit some jealousy over were the kind of things that would bother other agencies, but until the IRS asked her department for support in bringing him in for white collar crimes it really wasn't a concern for the PRT.
Her back was starting to hurt, and it felt like the meeting had dragged on too long, but it was just the nature of how much they were dealing with. At least they were making progress. "That brings us to the Trump effects. The falna is the most obviously destabilising, it can be assumed that any of Advent's close associates have benefitted from it and should be given at least Brute 2 level precautions. Furthermore, an offer was made to Clockblocker this morning," she gave the Ward a look for him to explain it in his own words as he had when she'd seen him for his debriefing earlier.
"Yeah, uh," despite the face-covering mask the teen's body language still showed discomfort at being put on the spot. "When he was thanking me for helping out with the Empire, he said he was willing to give a falna to any hero or PRT agent who wanted it, but he'd be vetting them for 'bad vibes', his words not mine. I guess that's the, uh, sense motive power we talked about earlier? He also offered tinker-tech medical treatment for me or… anyone close to me, if it was needed."
"I'm surprised he's willing to assist PRT agents, his personality profile suggested a disdain for the law," Miss Militia spoke up.
That drew a response from Dragon. "He said that was taken out of context when a news reporter asked him about it this morning. That flouting unjust laws was more like not reporting a Jewish neighbour if he was living in 1930s Germany."
An emotive example, but a pointless digression, and Emily cleared her throat to draw attention back to herself and the topic they were supposed to be on. "Regardless, the offer was made. Clockblocker did the smart thing and refused the falna so he could report the matter," rare enough that he did the smart thing, but she knew there was a brain hiding under that smartass attitude. "Due to concerns about unmentioned Master effects, as well as the simple leverage requiring Advent's support entails, we will limit our response to volunteering field agents for an evaluation period where they will be closely scrutinised and removed from command responsibilities. The other point however was the offer of medical treatment."
They'd buried the lede a bit here, and she cast a gimlet eye around the meeting to ensure everyone was paying proper attention, "Clockblocker has a close family member with a severe medical condition. It's almost certain Advent knew that when making the offer. As if he knew from reading about him in a story. Advent doesn't just have preconceptions and opinions about the world, he likely knows information as well even beyond the bounds of what his Thinker powers would tell him. Secret identities, relationships, hidden aspects to powers. So be aware that in any interaction, he's likely to know far more about what's going on than would be expected."
There were grave looks all around. Everyone had secrets, even if capes were more dramatic about it. Knowing that someone could have laid bare your inner thoughts and private life was sure to prompt some introspection and alarm.
She was sure any such book wouldn't have been flattering to her. She was an overbearing and stubborn hard-ass of a boss. In any such book the viewpoint would probably have been a cape who saw her as an obstacle, but that was fine. She held no allusions about who she was or where she fit in the world. And that motivated what she said next. "We're not here to ponder existential questions about being observed like we're in a book or a TV show. It doesn't matter if Dungeons & Dragons is a real thing in some alternate dimension. What matters is we have a dragon in this city, and we have to deal with him. Just like we've been dealing with the other dragon that moved in a few years ago."
Back on task, they finalised their new ratings for Jumpco. Advent, Brute 9, everything else 5. Dea Saint, Tinker 6, Brute/Blaster 4. BB, Stranger 8, Brute 4. Iron Fist, Brute 7, Mover 4.
"That just leaves one problem, Director," the words she heard from Rebecca Costa-Brown were never the sort of thing you wanted to hear from your boss, particularly at the end of a prolonged meeting. "We know Advent is Jason Scott. BB is self-explanatory, Dea Saint is almost certainly Airmid Teasanare, while Iron Fist must be the warrior jar Alexander.
"So where is Goro Majima?"
15:00
Federal holiday or not, the PRT didn't take the day off. For all that, Emily was used to being able to take it easy around the new year, even in a city as fractious as Brockton Bay.
Not today however. The revelations about Advent might not have been given much credibility if not for how widely they'd been spread. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble for a prank, and then one of the gangs had believed it enough that they'd gone after him in force.
A pre-emptive strike because the document said he hated nazis? If it was just that then the Empire really was letting itself be led around by the nose.
But thanks to that they now had over half of the Empire's cape roster behind bars. And a degree of proof that Avent was far more than just a scheduling Thinker.
She set her coffee cup down on the table and eased herself into her chair, feeling the eyes of several capes and PRT analysts on her, in addition to the video-conference screens of others joining in from afar. Her boss was effectively in the room with her.
"Before we begin, I'd like to note the commendation Clockblocker has earned today," words she never thought she'd say. Even using that name where the Chief Director could hear felt embarrassing. "Despite being off duty, he showed the heroism that the Wards program is designed to foster, and proved instrumental in the capture of three dangerous parahumans." The words were stiff and scripted, because they were. All the same, it was a win and helped give them some control over the situation. "Congratulations and well done, Clockblocker."
"Thank you, Director," the teenager said almost as stiffly, now fully in costume where he sat between Triumph and Miss Militia, his blank clock-themed mask probably covering his embarrassment. Because of course when you made your name as a clown and rebel, there was nothing worse than being held up as a good example.
"Which brings us to the main subject. The 'Overview of the Jumper Advent' as it's titled. Everyone here received it directly in their email at midnight last night?" there were nods all around, even from the Chief Director conferencing in from her office in Washington. "Has there been any progress in finding the source?"
It was Dragon who answered, the world's premier tinker not an unknown fixture in the East North East department given her frequent collaborations with Armsmaster. "Unfortunately no, it's as if the data simply appeared on the central mail servers used by the Guild, Protectorate, and PRT before being sent to every account. And not just us – the FBI, the CIA, the IRS… every three letter agency you could name had it distributed, the same for overseas bodies, and even independent cape groups such as New Wave and the Elite have confirmed receiving the document in the email accounts they use for cape business."
"Villains too," agent Donaldson added. "The Empire capes brought in today haven't been cooperative, but Rune did mention receiving the email personally, not finding it online."
Which effectively meant whoever sent that message out knew how to access the obscured and secretive accounts used by villains just as easily as they could penetrate government servers. As concerning as the revelations about Advent were, the implied reach of his 'audience' was all the more concerning.
She took a sip of coffee and glanced down at the printout she had in front of her of the Document and its various appendices. She'd only read the overview, leaving it to her analysts to summarise the altogether too verbose appendices. They couldn't say they were short on information, imagine having something like this before going into action against a terrifying unknown parahuman. If she liked to think things would have been different with Nilbog if they knew better, this was a chance to prove it.
"At this point we can accept the words as true. Advent directly confirmed as much this morning, and we saw proof in the fight with the Empire capes. Frightful presence, sting, and rubber fists. Additionally Dea Saint displayed a previously undocumented blaster power that could be used to bombard targets at range, and heal injuries. These weren't mentioned, but we can take it to mean the other members of Jumpco will have similar abilities," she said, to bring them towards the main point of determining their response to Advent as things stood, and if they needed to bring him in or put him down.
"It wasn't just the blaster powers, she defeated several unpowered Empire members in close combat at the start of the engagement as well, the ones who kept going in the face of Advent's frightful presence, so by definition those were the more experienced fighters," Armsmaster spoke up. "She could have her body augmented with tinker-tech, or she could be a beneficiary of Advent's falna ability. Or both."
"We'll come back to that," she said, the whole falna thing being a huge can of worms by itself. "Staying on Advent himself for the moment? He first came to our attention in April of last year, when Jumpco was officially registered with the Secretary of the Commonwealth as a business in the state of Massachusetts, and applied for MIRIS funding and accreditation with the PRT. Owing to the presence of a Tinker in the group, Armsmaster handled the initial registration," she nodded to him to take over, having a sip of her now cooling coffee as the Protectorate head cleared his throat and began speaking.
"Thank you, Director. Initially Jumpco was seen as high risk for gang recruitment. Advent being a relatively minor Thinker, and Dea Saint being a Tinker who could specialise in human enhancement, they were seen as extremely vulnerable. A request was sent to Watchdog for appraisal and a violet rating was initially provided. However no conflict occurred in the initial month of Jumpco's founding, and the company found many local clients for Advent's business consulting services, while BB began using her stranger power for entertainment – corporate hospitality, birthday parties, things like that. Dea Saint however was unable to make much headway in selling her products and services, a fact she expressed her frustration with on occasions where I met with her," Armsmaster went over the initial founding of the company.
"Why was she having trouble?" Clockblocker spoke up, a few of the older heroes and agents turning to look at him for interrupting, but it was a valid question, and he kept going despite the looks he was getting. "Panacea can just walk into a hospital and start curing people with her power, what was stopping Dea Saint?"
Surprisingly it was the Chief Director who answered from the screen she was monitoring things from. "People are a lot more leery of medical tinker-tech because of the issues with maintenance and reliability. Either the treatments Dea Saint offers require frequent upkeep from a Tinker, which is bad for the patient, or they don't… and that's bad for the pharmaceutical industry. If all Dea Saint offered was surgical treatments to selected patients she'd probably be earning a very comfortable living, but because her goals are more widespread she faces more opposition from bigger players in her field."
"Yes, it's like the Chief Director says," Armsmaster picked up. "Dea Saint actually does have a highly advanced surgical suite that I inspected during her registration, but her primary interest lies in distributing cures for widespread diseases, and even getting approval to run drug trials has been difficult for her."
It was the sort of thing that forced Emily to reckon with her own prejudices. Would she let Panacea grow her new kidneys? Absolutely not. Would she let Dea Saint implant cloned or artificial kidneys? Still the same refusal. But what if there was just a better dialysis machine? What if a foil wrapped pill in a box from the pharmacy offered to alleviate her condition, but was derived from a Tinker's work somewhere down the chain?
She grumbled to herself and shoved the dilemma down, it wasn't something she actually had to confront in the real world, at least just yet. "We'll come back to Dea Saint's business prospects, but there's one more member to discuss. Iron Fist, the company's sponsored hero," she spoke up to get the meeting back on track. "Joining in May last year, he mostly patrols around the more prosperous parts of the city, seeming to be a standard Alexandria package despite his atypical appearance. He hasn't had many actual fights with other parahumans, although this morning he assisted in defusing a fight between E88 and the ABB, where he clearly overpowered Hookwolf and proved impervious to both his blades and the explosives deployed by Oni Lee."
She took a breath and a sip of coffee, checking the numbers on her own notes to verify them before she said, "That summarises the parahuman members of Jumpco as we knew them last year. Advent, rated as a Thinker 2, Dea Saint, Tinker 6, BB, Stranger 8, and Iron Fist, Brute 5, Mover 3. Now we have to make sense of all this," she lifted the sheaf of papers that comprised the Document, "And determine our response protocols to everything in it."
"Before that," Miss Milita spoke up, shifting in her seat, "What is our official policy towards Advent? Is he still even a rogue?"
She was about to get into that when covering one of his more alarming abilities, but she'd answer now and hope her boss didn't overrule her. "Advent has committed no crimes, and up until now has been a model rogue of the sort the PRT most wishes to support," she answered, her gaze shifting towards the screen showing Rebecca Costa-Brown who was watching without any sign of disapproval or disagreement. "In his public statements he has affirmed his good intentions, and in private conversation with Clockblocker and Dragon he has declared a willingness to assist the PRT in crisis situations. Which is good, but we have to consider the possibilities. If he actually used this Black Mud ability as it's described in here, he'd be considered an S-class threat. Brockton Bay would be walled off… and that wouldn't be enough because he could teleport as far away as Chicago or Savannah and do it again."
"Or go back in time to the Devonian epoch," Armsmaster interjected with a sour note in his voice.
"Uh, how worried should we be about that?" Triumph asked. "The mud's one thing, but if he goes back in time that far, couldn't the butterfly effect change everything?"
"Back then Brockton Bay would've been part of a mountain range around the same latitude as modern Buenos Aires. The surface was covered in primitive plant life and insects… it could be so far back literally nothing he could do wouldn't simply be erased by geological forces. Or he could bring back some modern bacteria that integrates itself into the ecosystem and completely alters the evolution of life on Earth," Armsmaster shook his head in a weary manner. Time travel powers weren't meant to go so far back. Except that was part of the problem, most of Advent's abilities weren't parahuman powers as all their research and experience understood them.
"So basically just hope he doesn't? Is that how we're going to treat him full stop?" Triumph pressed. "He can teleport a thousand miles, he can travel through time, he'd walk off a nuclear bomb, and even if we hit him with some kind of crazy power even stronger than that, he'd reappear within a day anyway. What are we actually supposed to do if he turns hostile?"
Emily understood the boy's frustration, but she couldn't allow that kind of defeatism to seep into her command. "That's what we're here to determine," she said firmly. "Even if our plans amount to nothing more than stalling for time to get civilians out of the effected area, we have a responsibility to prepare for the worst. Even if they're not perfect, we need plans to fall back on in the worst case scenario."
"Without knowing how the mud responds physically it would be hard to predict interactions with powers, but solidifying it with extreme heat, or using force-fields or terrain manipulation to limit it's spread would be the first thing to consider," Armsmaster spoke up, as ever someone she could rely on to see a problem and fixate on finding solutions.
She'd have to budget for incendiary devices. The department had been hamstrung for years in terms of budget and support, but one silver lining to this mess was that head office was suddenly taking them seriously again. The Chief Director's presence in the meeting was proof of that. And if they could actually keep today's haul of Empire capes off the streets, it might even give the city a little breathing room.
Of course it was inevitable the Empire would pull out all the stops to break their roster out of jail, that was why most of the local Protectorate would only be reading the minutes of this meeting, she needed them in the field not sitting around a table, even during a crisis like this.
They moved through other powers, straightforward or problematic. Having BB in the city already required a degree of Master-Stranger protocols, mostly focused around remote technological monitoring which she wouldn't be able to alter with sensory manipulation. Advent's remote viewing via a divine mirror was effectively unsolvable, while his Changer power could be handled with biometrics like retinal scanning. It was going to add more inconveniences to their daily operation, but it was the kind of thing the PRT had long and hard-won experience in.
The financial and organisational powers coupled with the instant paperwork one which she wasn't too proud to admit some jealousy over were the kind of things that would bother other agencies, but until the IRS asked her department for support in bringing him in for white collar crimes it really wasn't a concern for the PRT.
Her back was starting to hurt, and it felt like the meeting had dragged on too long, but it was just the nature of how much they were dealing with. At least they were making progress. "That brings us to the Trump effects. The falna is the most obviously destabilising, it can be assumed that any of Advent's close associates have benefitted from it and should be given at least Brute 2 level precautions. Furthermore, an offer was made to Clockblocker this morning," she gave the Ward a look for him to explain it in his own words as he had when she'd seen him for his debriefing earlier.
"Yeah, uh," despite the face-covering mask the teen's body language still showed discomfort at being put on the spot. "When he was thanking me for helping out with the Empire, he said he was willing to give a falna to any hero or PRT agent who wanted it, but he'd be vetting them for 'bad vibes', his words not mine. I guess that's the, uh, sense motive power we talked about earlier? He also offered tinker-tech medical treatment for me or… anyone close to me, if it was needed."
"I'm surprised he's willing to assist PRT agents, his personality profile suggested a disdain for the law," Miss Militia spoke up.
That drew a response from Dragon. "He said that was taken out of context when a news reporter asked him about it this morning. That flouting unjust laws was more like not reporting a Jewish neighbour if he was living in 1930s Germany."
An emotive example, but a pointless digression, and Emily cleared her throat to draw attention back to herself and the topic they were supposed to be on. "Regardless, the offer was made. Clockblocker did the smart thing and refused the falna so he could report the matter," rare enough that he did the smart thing, but she knew there was a brain hiding under that smartass attitude. "Due to concerns about unmentioned Master effects, as well as the simple leverage requiring Advent's support entails, we will limit our response to volunteering field agents for an evaluation period where they will be closely scrutinised and removed from command responsibilities. The other point however was the offer of medical treatment."
They'd buried the lede a bit here, and she cast a gimlet eye around the meeting to ensure everyone was paying proper attention, "Clockblocker has a close family member with a severe medical condition. It's almost certain Advent knew that when making the offer. As if he knew from reading about him in a story. Advent doesn't just have preconceptions and opinions about the world, he likely knows information as well even beyond the bounds of what his Thinker powers would tell him. Secret identities, relationships, hidden aspects to powers. So be aware that in any interaction, he's likely to know far more about what's going on than would be expected."
There were grave looks all around. Everyone had secrets, even if capes were more dramatic about it. Knowing that someone could have laid bare your inner thoughts and private life was sure to prompt some introspection and alarm.
She was sure any such book wouldn't have been flattering to her. She was an overbearing and stubborn hard-ass of a boss. In any such book the viewpoint would probably have been a cape who saw her as an obstacle, but that was fine. She held no allusions about who she was or where she fit in the world. And that motivated what she said next. "We're not here to ponder existential questions about being observed like we're in a book or a TV show. It doesn't matter if Dungeons & Dragons is a real thing in some alternate dimension. What matters is we have a dragon in this city, and we have to deal with him. Just like we've been dealing with the other dragon that moved in a few years ago."
Back on task, they finalised their new ratings for Jumpco. Advent, Brute 9, everything else 5. Dea Saint, Tinker 6, Brute/Blaster 4. BB, Stranger 8, Brute 4. Iron Fist, Brute 7, Mover 4.
"That just leaves one problem, Director," the words she heard from Rebecca Costa-Brown were never the sort of thing you wanted to hear from your boss, particularly at the end of a prolonged meeting. "We know Advent is Jason Scott. BB is self-explanatory, Dea Saint is almost certainly Airmid Teasanare, while Iron Fist must be the warrior jar Alexander.
"So where is Goro Majima?"
dracklor
Beyond the Frontier
- Location
- Texas
If he isn't hunting Jackie-boy and his little band of evil aligned murder-hobos then I will be greatly surprised.
Chapter 6
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 1, 2011
18:00
"Come on, lets find a place where there's some hot girls, blow off some steam!"
"Nah, it's gotta be karaoke, I wanna sing my heart out!"
"We should be laying low, lets just get a drive-through and keep going?"
Majima rolled his one good eye as he slouched in the back of the car, wondering if it was too late to ditch the boys and make this a solo mission. His foot kicked out against the seat in front of him, jolting Shinji and drawing a yelp from the horn-dog. "All of ya quit yer yappin'," he drawled out, turning to look out the window at the historic brownstone buildings they were passing. "We're in Boston so it's gotta be seafood. Some-place homey."
His boys fell in line. Shinji wasn't exactly one of his boys, but after twenty years the lines between Majima Construction and the Ryuzo family had blurred to non-existence, especially that decade in Danmachi when they'd all been delving into the Dungeon together. He could respect they were hard workers, even if it got annoying when they couldn't decide on something as simple as what to have for dinner.
The nice family restaurant near the marina had its hostess give slightly wide-eyed looks at Majima and Minami's exposed tattoos, but it wasn't such a classy joint that it'd kick up a stink over them not wearing shirts, and the crab smelled good.
"Wonder how old Boggart's getting on? That guy boiled a good prawn," he said as he cracked open a crab-claw and slurped down the juicy steamed innards.
"They were so big over there too! Didn't you get the item to have more of them even after we left, boss?" Minami asked, digging into his plate of breaded scampi.
He had, though it had been a pretty thoughtless choice at the start of the Elden Ring jump, since there were a few freebies on offer and everyone else had already picked up stuff like glintsone and smithing stone crafting supplies. "Yeah, it's gonna be back at the lair though. Those kobolds'll be eating good, I bet," he chuckled. The lair was a weird place, a huge palace built for a dragon buried in the depths of time, filled with priceless historical artifacts and writings, staffed by a collection of little lizard people, huge dark-skinned giants, and a whole lot of stuffy maids and butlers. It was where they kept all their stuff to bring between jumps, but it was a pain to get there and back since only Jason had the keys, so Majima rarely bothered with it.
"I could really go for some of that pickled turtle neck," Shinji said with a far-away smile above his plate of oysters. "You know that stuff's great for stamina and energy, everything you need to go all night."
Did this guy ever think of anything except getting his dick wet?
"Speaking of food," Nishida at least came up with a subject change, "You think if I worked as Jason's chef for a week that'd make me as good as one of those big TV chefs?"
"I feel like I've gotten better at driving just from driving us around today," Minami volunteered with a thoughtful look on his angular face. "And we're all basically working as detectives right now, so we should get better at gathering information and clues, right?"
That Best in the Business perk Jason had taken, it was part of the reason he'd gone Rogue to begin with. They were mostly hoping it'd help people level up faster – adventurer was a job, right? But really it had no end of potential uses, and he leaned forward on the table with a grin as he said, "Get a job as a singer and you might even learn how to carry a tune, Minami," making his underling bluster up defensively but then look quietly hopeful as he considered the actual possibility. At least he wasn't deaf, but he didn't really begrudge the guy from enjoying his karaoke even if he wasn't the greatest at it.
"What about you, Majima? Get anything out of your perks?" Shinji asked.
He didn't have a special power like the others had all gotten here, but that just meant he'd had more points to spend on other stuff. Enough to effectively give him the power of being a spoiler on everyone else's, at least the Thinker powers. Kind of thing that would've been great for tripping up all the assholes that tried to run around the Tojo Clan back in the day. Before they'd seen there was no future for the yakuza except as attack dogs for corrupt politicians and decided to go legit.
"Yeah just enjoy your dinner, you'll get to see it soon enough."
January 1, 2011
20:30
They were on their way back to the car, bellies full with good food and good drinks except for Minami who was driving them. The plan was to find a motel to stay at overnight, then set off early in the morning to head west.
But there were other plans for them to run into tonight.
Starting with the balding middle-aged guy who came charging out of an alley and slammed straight into Majima's chest before falling on his ass. "Ahhh! Y-you gotta help me!" he looked up pleadingly, "He's gonna kill me!"
There wasn't even any time to ask about the situation before a pale blond-haired guy in a black suit came out of the alley after him, giving Majima and his crew a disdainful look. "This doesn't concern any of you. Turn around and walk away."
As usual when confronted with this kind of situation, Majima briefly weighed up the decision to just not get involved before discarding it. "Hey, the guy's afraid you're gonna kill him, we can't just ignore that," he said, offering the prospective murder victim a hand up.
"He crossed Accord, that means he has to pay the price. Besides, if I let him go he will only fall victim to someone else. I'm not going to give up the prestige of carrying out Accord's will to another, not after all the trouble I had finding Mr. Sanderson here," the man in black scoffed.
"I didn't mean it! I- I have more trouble aiming these days, and I was in a rush. Besides, isn't that why they hire cleaners?" Sanderson whined, starting to edge around Majima for protection.
"What'd he actually do?" Nishida asked, stepping to the side and giving Sanderson some room to edge back among their group.
"He left urine on the toilet seat at Accord's favourite restaurant!" the hitman declared righteously.
Nishida and Shinji both immediately gave Sanderson more clearance, looking at him in judgement. "He's right, that's what cleaners are for," Minami said, letting Majima know exactly who was the scummiest in their little group.
"He sounds like a real villain alright, but do ya really think it's worth killing a guy over? Look how spooked the guy is, he'll be more careful from now on, won't ya?" he glanced back at Sanderson who nodded frantically, sweat gleaming on his hairless dome under the street-lights.
"It's too late for apologies," the man in black, still seeing he was outnumbered and they weren't cowed by Accord's name, reached into his jacket to draw a gun… only to freeze as both Shinji and Nishida drew their own and aimed back at him far faster than he could.
It was actually a little bit disappointing, if he was on his own he was sure he could've gotten a fight out of the guy. But then again, if he wanted a good fight in this town…
January 1, 2011
21:15
Accord's HQ was swanky as shit. Reminded him a bit of the Omi Alliance HQ in Osaka, all polished marble and crystal fixtures. Even had a giant chandelier in the front room like the one Kiryu had dropped on a bunch of Omi men back in the day.
Better than that though, after mopping up a few more assholes in black suits on their way into the mansion a very helpful hitman had told them was his boss's base, they were being confronted by a pair of elegantly dressed goons with swanky masks covering their faces.
"Before you idiots die, do you want to tell us who hired you? We might make your deaths a little bit quicker," the woman wearing an evening gown that showed a lot of leg, and a spiky black mask that showed none of her face, asked in a contemptuous voice.
Next to her on top of the balcony overlooking the split stairs down to the foyer a guy in a dark blue suit with a mask that looked like a spiral galaxy pattern cracked his knuckles ominously.
"Would ya believe it's all over the price of a piss?" he answered glibly, unsheathing his demonfire dagger. Despite the weapon having been with him since he first swore up as a yakuza, the years and the rigours of inhuman combat had seen it go through enough upgrades to qualify as a philosophical dilemma. Repaired and reforged with adamantine, enchanted with spells of sharpness and durability, cursed to inflict terrible bleeding wounds, and infused with enough smithing stones that it could slay a god. It still felt like the same old dagger, comfortable in his hand with the faded pattern of flowers on its smooth hilt.
"Fucking idiot," the woman growled before she cast her hand out and threw a black shuriken-like thing that flew right at him with impressive speed. Not so impressive he couldn't easily just tilt his head to avoid it, but as it got close enough to pass by it suddenly changed shape and produced a slender spike to stab out right at his head, forcing a more active dodge and deflection with his dagger which cut right through the star, sending its halves flying off one lodging into the ceiling, the other landing near Nishida and producing another spike that he had to jump away from.
There were more men in black at the top of the stairs, wielding knives and guns, likely there to give cover for the two capes to use their powers from the vantage up there. The woman was already throwing out more of her black stars, while the man didn't seem to be doing anything. Perhaps his power was a close-range one? Majima started running, and as he passed below the chandelier it suddenly shot down at him as if it were spring-loaded. Whether it was a motion sensor or someone controlling it from afar though, it was still too slow to catch Majima as he passed clear under it and left it to crash vainly against the soft red carpet while he shot himself into the air towards the two capes while his boys followed and dealt with the storm of black stars that had been flung their way.
Gunfire came from the sides now, bullets cutting through the air towards him, most too slow to track his rapid ascent however with only one needing to be bounced off his blade. He could take some gunshots, and Airmid had been good enough to stock them up with her high quality healing potions before they left, but why would he let anyone actually shoot him if he could help it? No telling when someone might have some crazy power applied to his gun or be armed with a sci-fi poison coated nano-bullet, he wasn't the kind of guy who just took those on the chin if he could help it.
He could feel himself smiling wide as he landed, letting out an exuberant laugh that had both capes cringing, their helpers unable to fire now without risking them and so turning towards Nishida and the rest that were bringing up the rear, a thump of displaced air and the grinding of moving stone suggesting the falling chandelier wasn't the only trap around here. Accord had a real fun-house going on, didn't he?
"Shit, he's fast!" the previously silent cape with the blue suit growled out in a deep voice, lunging for Majima all the same, but a quick dodge had him flowing around the guy like he was in slow motion. He clearly knew how to fight, and the way he held his hands out was like he wanted to do a sumo slap or just touch his target to have an effect with his power, so it must have been one of those Striker ones. Someone dumb enough to stand still and take it would probably be in trouble, but he couldn't lay a hand on Majima while he was concentrating on dodging.
Considering the jagged mask girl was still tossing out her throwing stars with abandon he had a lot to worry about dodging right now, but the other three guys by now were mowing through the men in black guarding the stairs so there was no reason to dick around much longer…
He was kind of curious what the guy's power was, not so curious he'd take it himself, but if he didn't finish this up soon he might let Nishida take a hit for the team and the guy didn't really deserve that. Circling around the increasingly frustrated cape while his colleague yelled to stay still, he baited a swing before ducking under the woman's outstretched arm as she flung another of her black stars. A quick elbow to her back had her fall right onto his hand, at which point she screamed and went flying up to slam into the ceiling as if her personal gravity had been flipped.
"Oh shit, Cassi-" was as far as the guy got after his case of friendly fire before Minami vaulted over the bannister from the stairs and grabbed his head, face-planting him onto the floor and knocking him out. Which drew another winded sounding yell from Cassi-whatever as she fell down and landed folding herself over the railing at the edge of the balcony they'd been fighting on, groaning and out of commission.
"Well these two weren't much, let's see what else Accord's got?" Majima asked, setting off deeper into the mansion before stopping as he felt a pressure against his chest. He pulled back, a shallow cut drawn and not from any of the spikes still littering the area from the black throwing stars stuck everywhere. "What the…?" he felt over his chest before feeling the same pressure and pulling away from it, groping his hand out for the presumed invisible attacker but feeling nothing even as another cut appeared. He actually took this one, in hopes he'd be able to grab the hand of whoever was slicing into him, but had nothing to show for it except a deeper oozing cut on his chest.
"Boss?" Nishida asked, looking at the blossoming wounds and then all around for the source.
"Some weird power. Spread out, look for a guy controlling it remotely," he ordered, finding that so long as he kept moving the attacks couldn't concentrate on him long enough to be felt except as a brief touch. Still, he took his flask of crimson tears out of his jacket pocket, the small gold-encrusted flash not as potent as Airmid's potions but making up for it by automatically refilling every day. The red liquid had a metallic tang but a single gulp closed up those small wounds as he hurried through the mansion with everyone splitting up to take different routes.
What he found was a bunch more traps. Spears fired out of walls, crushing blocks dropping from the ceiling, scything pendulums cutting through hallways, even some spinning flamethrower things. Back in Japan he'd have to reach the bottom of a wicked conspiracy to find stuff like this, here it all came because he ran into a guy about to be murdered for being a messy pisser. Worm might be alright.
The dazed man in black he just flung through a set of heavy wooden doors hard enough to knock one of them off its hinges might've disagreed, but it looked like Majima had found the boss's office. Full of really nice looking hand-carved furniture, everything meticulously placed even better than his office after he got scammed into paying for a Feng Shui consultation, and sat behind the desk at the far end was a man in a white suit, his wood and silver mask articulated around his features to show an expression of rage.
To his left was a guy in a classy formal suit with a two-toned black and white mask, and another guy in a green suit with a copper lizard-head mask, while on his right was a woman in a yellow evening gown, her golden mask actually exposing her mouth enough that Majima could see her pinched look of displeasure.
"You dare break into my home, assault my staff, and damage my furniture?" Accord growled. "Before I end you, I would know who I have insulted to induce such a trespass."
He almost felt bad, it really should be over something more dramatic. On the other hand it was such a trivial thing to arouse the initial murder attempt and then Majima's own interference, you couldn't not find it funny. "Guy named Sanderson," he answered, just to see what the reaction would be.
Accord's mask shifted around his face perfectly to show the confused stare he must have been giving Majima. There was an awkward pause before the man with the two-toned mask said, "The toilet seat at La Riviera, sir. Operative Leclerc reported having identified the offender tonight and was going to enact the hit you placed."
A shudder of recognition went through Accord and he stood up, grasping a cane in his hand and pointing at Majima. "Kill him!"
Lizard-mask moved first, rushing towards Majima while the woman stood still and stared at him, his vision turning a washed-out yellow hue. He didn't know what that power was going to do but it didn't stop him from immediately rushing down Lizard-mask who came at him like a more conventional brawler than the blue-suited guy from the entrance. Two-tone mask simply vanished where he stood, no telling what his angle was as Majima and Lizard-mask started trading blows.
Guy could take a punch, better than the goons he'd been fighting to get here, and the ones he threw back were strong enough to be felt as well. Had to be some kind of Brute power, the bigger man grunting with pained exertion as he swung out fast and powerful blows which Majima blocked some of and weaved around others.
"Don't aim for his power, Citrine. He still has to walk, immobilise him for Othello to finish," Accord commanded, separating his cane out to expose the blade hidden inside as he came around the desk.
The next thing he knew his feet were skidding out from under him, the ground feeling like it was coated in slick ice. Lizard-mask seemed just as bad off however and they both separated, tumbling to the friction-less carpet underfoot. His foe was tenacious and grabbed for him as they fell, likely intending to hold him still for whatever Othello had planned.
Majima was faster however, grabbing Lizard-masks's arms and pulling himself upwards… or trying. His hands slid right off the man's sleeves like they'd been greased up, the lack of friction not just confined to the carpet. Still, by pushing against each other they both managed to stay upright, jostling for position and kicking their feet out before Majima felt that same pressure from earlier against his chest.
But with the lack of friction that pressure was able to push him, and Majima let go of Lizard-mask while keeping his balance so he slid his way across the friction-less floor back to the edge of the room where colour returned to his vision.
"Citrine!" Accord rebuked her for her seemingly variable power having been poorly chosen to interact with whatever Othello was doing.
"Sorry, sir, I thought he'd fall down and be an easy target!" she protested as Majima launched himself forward now. A full powered leap brought him through Citrine's field and the length of the expansive office suite, Lizard-mask by now flat on his stomach and unable to get in his way, the air doing nothing to impede him as he crashed into Accord knee first, shattering his mask and sending him back over his desk with a spray of blood.
"Boss is that you there?!" a yell from outside, Nishida sounding like he'd caught up while Citrine looked on with horror at her own boss's fallen form.
He picked up Accord while he was dazed, fragments of mask falling off a round-looking face, his dagger brought towards the man's neck while he gave a leering grin towards Citrine and Lizard-mask. And Othello who was probably intangible somewhere around here, the jackass. "In here, Nishida!" he called, seeing the fight go out of the other capes at seeing their boss effectively held hostage. "Now listen, I'm not gonna say I haven't gone a bit overboard myself sometimes, and nobody likes a messy pisser, but it's a bit much for putting out a hit on a guy."
"… There must be standards," Accord rasped out, "Order. Or else society crumbles."
He hated to be repeating Minami, but, "Ain't that why we've got cleaners though? Why you gotta take responsibility that far?"
"It has to be me. Responsibility, yes, those with power must take it. I saw the dereliction of those who won't. It all started… with my plan to solve world hunger…"
Oh fuck, he could hear the sad music starting up already. Why did it always have to end like this?
18:00
"Come on, lets find a place where there's some hot girls, blow off some steam!"
"Nah, it's gotta be karaoke, I wanna sing my heart out!"
"We should be laying low, lets just get a drive-through and keep going?"
Majima rolled his one good eye as he slouched in the back of the car, wondering if it was too late to ditch the boys and make this a solo mission. His foot kicked out against the seat in front of him, jolting Shinji and drawing a yelp from the horn-dog. "All of ya quit yer yappin'," he drawled out, turning to look out the window at the historic brownstone buildings they were passing. "We're in Boston so it's gotta be seafood. Some-place homey."
His boys fell in line. Shinji wasn't exactly one of his boys, but after twenty years the lines between Majima Construction and the Ryuzo family had blurred to non-existence, especially that decade in Danmachi when they'd all been delving into the Dungeon together. He could respect they were hard workers, even if it got annoying when they couldn't decide on something as simple as what to have for dinner.
The nice family restaurant near the marina had its hostess give slightly wide-eyed looks at Majima and Minami's exposed tattoos, but it wasn't such a classy joint that it'd kick up a stink over them not wearing shirts, and the crab smelled good.
"Wonder how old Boggart's getting on? That guy boiled a good prawn," he said as he cracked open a crab-claw and slurped down the juicy steamed innards.
"They were so big over there too! Didn't you get the item to have more of them even after we left, boss?" Minami asked, digging into his plate of breaded scampi.
He had, though it had been a pretty thoughtless choice at the start of the Elden Ring jump, since there were a few freebies on offer and everyone else had already picked up stuff like glintsone and smithing stone crafting supplies. "Yeah, it's gonna be back at the lair though. Those kobolds'll be eating good, I bet," he chuckled. The lair was a weird place, a huge palace built for a dragon buried in the depths of time, filled with priceless historical artifacts and writings, staffed by a collection of little lizard people, huge dark-skinned giants, and a whole lot of stuffy maids and butlers. It was where they kept all their stuff to bring between jumps, but it was a pain to get there and back since only Jason had the keys, so Majima rarely bothered with it.
"I could really go for some of that pickled turtle neck," Shinji said with a far-away smile above his plate of oysters. "You know that stuff's great for stamina and energy, everything you need to go all night."
Did this guy ever think of anything except getting his dick wet?
"Speaking of food," Nishida at least came up with a subject change, "You think if I worked as Jason's chef for a week that'd make me as good as one of those big TV chefs?"
"I feel like I've gotten better at driving just from driving us around today," Minami volunteered with a thoughtful look on his angular face. "And we're all basically working as detectives right now, so we should get better at gathering information and clues, right?"
That Best in the Business perk Jason had taken, it was part of the reason he'd gone Rogue to begin with. They were mostly hoping it'd help people level up faster – adventurer was a job, right? But really it had no end of potential uses, and he leaned forward on the table with a grin as he said, "Get a job as a singer and you might even learn how to carry a tune, Minami," making his underling bluster up defensively but then look quietly hopeful as he considered the actual possibility. At least he wasn't deaf, but he didn't really begrudge the guy from enjoying his karaoke even if he wasn't the greatest at it.
"What about you, Majima? Get anything out of your perks?" Shinji asked.
He didn't have a special power like the others had all gotten here, but that just meant he'd had more points to spend on other stuff. Enough to effectively give him the power of being a spoiler on everyone else's, at least the Thinker powers. Kind of thing that would've been great for tripping up all the assholes that tried to run around the Tojo Clan back in the day. Before they'd seen there was no future for the yakuza except as attack dogs for corrupt politicians and decided to go legit.
"Yeah just enjoy your dinner, you'll get to see it soon enough."
January 1, 2011
20:30
They were on their way back to the car, bellies full with good food and good drinks except for Minami who was driving them. The plan was to find a motel to stay at overnight, then set off early in the morning to head west.
But there were other plans for them to run into tonight.
Starting with the balding middle-aged guy who came charging out of an alley and slammed straight into Majima's chest before falling on his ass. "Ahhh! Y-you gotta help me!" he looked up pleadingly, "He's gonna kill me!"
There wasn't even any time to ask about the situation before a pale blond-haired guy in a black suit came out of the alley after him, giving Majima and his crew a disdainful look. "This doesn't concern any of you. Turn around and walk away."
As usual when confronted with this kind of situation, Majima briefly weighed up the decision to just not get involved before discarding it. "Hey, the guy's afraid you're gonna kill him, we can't just ignore that," he said, offering the prospective murder victim a hand up.
"He crossed Accord, that means he has to pay the price. Besides, if I let him go he will only fall victim to someone else. I'm not going to give up the prestige of carrying out Accord's will to another, not after all the trouble I had finding Mr. Sanderson here," the man in black scoffed.
"I didn't mean it! I- I have more trouble aiming these days, and I was in a rush. Besides, isn't that why they hire cleaners?" Sanderson whined, starting to edge around Majima for protection.
"What'd he actually do?" Nishida asked, stepping to the side and giving Sanderson some room to edge back among their group.
"He left urine on the toilet seat at Accord's favourite restaurant!" the hitman declared righteously.
Nishida and Shinji both immediately gave Sanderson more clearance, looking at him in judgement. "He's right, that's what cleaners are for," Minami said, letting Majima know exactly who was the scummiest in their little group.
"He sounds like a real villain alright, but do ya really think it's worth killing a guy over? Look how spooked the guy is, he'll be more careful from now on, won't ya?" he glanced back at Sanderson who nodded frantically, sweat gleaming on his hairless dome under the street-lights.
"It's too late for apologies," the man in black, still seeing he was outnumbered and they weren't cowed by Accord's name, reached into his jacket to draw a gun… only to freeze as both Shinji and Nishida drew their own and aimed back at him far faster than he could.
It was actually a little bit disappointing, if he was on his own he was sure he could've gotten a fight out of the guy. But then again, if he wanted a good fight in this town…
January 1, 2011
21:15
Accord's HQ was swanky as shit. Reminded him a bit of the Omi Alliance HQ in Osaka, all polished marble and crystal fixtures. Even had a giant chandelier in the front room like the one Kiryu had dropped on a bunch of Omi men back in the day.
Better than that though, after mopping up a few more assholes in black suits on their way into the mansion a very helpful hitman had told them was his boss's base, they were being confronted by a pair of elegantly dressed goons with swanky masks covering their faces.
"Before you idiots die, do you want to tell us who hired you? We might make your deaths a little bit quicker," the woman wearing an evening gown that showed a lot of leg, and a spiky black mask that showed none of her face, asked in a contemptuous voice.
Next to her on top of the balcony overlooking the split stairs down to the foyer a guy in a dark blue suit with a mask that looked like a spiral galaxy pattern cracked his knuckles ominously.
"Would ya believe it's all over the price of a piss?" he answered glibly, unsheathing his demonfire dagger. Despite the weapon having been with him since he first swore up as a yakuza, the years and the rigours of inhuman combat had seen it go through enough upgrades to qualify as a philosophical dilemma. Repaired and reforged with adamantine, enchanted with spells of sharpness and durability, cursed to inflict terrible bleeding wounds, and infused with enough smithing stones that it could slay a god. It still felt like the same old dagger, comfortable in his hand with the faded pattern of flowers on its smooth hilt.
"Fucking idiot," the woman growled before she cast her hand out and threw a black shuriken-like thing that flew right at him with impressive speed. Not so impressive he couldn't easily just tilt his head to avoid it, but as it got close enough to pass by it suddenly changed shape and produced a slender spike to stab out right at his head, forcing a more active dodge and deflection with his dagger which cut right through the star, sending its halves flying off one lodging into the ceiling, the other landing near Nishida and producing another spike that he had to jump away from.
There were more men in black at the top of the stairs, wielding knives and guns, likely there to give cover for the two capes to use their powers from the vantage up there. The woman was already throwing out more of her black stars, while the man didn't seem to be doing anything. Perhaps his power was a close-range one? Majima started running, and as he passed below the chandelier it suddenly shot down at him as if it were spring-loaded. Whether it was a motion sensor or someone controlling it from afar though, it was still too slow to catch Majima as he passed clear under it and left it to crash vainly against the soft red carpet while he shot himself into the air towards the two capes while his boys followed and dealt with the storm of black stars that had been flung their way.
Gunfire came from the sides now, bullets cutting through the air towards him, most too slow to track his rapid ascent however with only one needing to be bounced off his blade. He could take some gunshots, and Airmid had been good enough to stock them up with her high quality healing potions before they left, but why would he let anyone actually shoot him if he could help it? No telling when someone might have some crazy power applied to his gun or be armed with a sci-fi poison coated nano-bullet, he wasn't the kind of guy who just took those on the chin if he could help it.
He could feel himself smiling wide as he landed, letting out an exuberant laugh that had both capes cringing, their helpers unable to fire now without risking them and so turning towards Nishida and the rest that were bringing up the rear, a thump of displaced air and the grinding of moving stone suggesting the falling chandelier wasn't the only trap around here. Accord had a real fun-house going on, didn't he?
"Shit, he's fast!" the previously silent cape with the blue suit growled out in a deep voice, lunging for Majima all the same, but a quick dodge had him flowing around the guy like he was in slow motion. He clearly knew how to fight, and the way he held his hands out was like he wanted to do a sumo slap or just touch his target to have an effect with his power, so it must have been one of those Striker ones. Someone dumb enough to stand still and take it would probably be in trouble, but he couldn't lay a hand on Majima while he was concentrating on dodging.
Considering the jagged mask girl was still tossing out her throwing stars with abandon he had a lot to worry about dodging right now, but the other three guys by now were mowing through the men in black guarding the stairs so there was no reason to dick around much longer…
He was kind of curious what the guy's power was, not so curious he'd take it himself, but if he didn't finish this up soon he might let Nishida take a hit for the team and the guy didn't really deserve that. Circling around the increasingly frustrated cape while his colleague yelled to stay still, he baited a swing before ducking under the woman's outstretched arm as she flung another of her black stars. A quick elbow to her back had her fall right onto his hand, at which point she screamed and went flying up to slam into the ceiling as if her personal gravity had been flipped.
"Oh shit, Cassi-" was as far as the guy got after his case of friendly fire before Minami vaulted over the bannister from the stairs and grabbed his head, face-planting him onto the floor and knocking him out. Which drew another winded sounding yell from Cassi-whatever as she fell down and landed folding herself over the railing at the edge of the balcony they'd been fighting on, groaning and out of commission.
"Well these two weren't much, let's see what else Accord's got?" Majima asked, setting off deeper into the mansion before stopping as he felt a pressure against his chest. He pulled back, a shallow cut drawn and not from any of the spikes still littering the area from the black throwing stars stuck everywhere. "What the…?" he felt over his chest before feeling the same pressure and pulling away from it, groping his hand out for the presumed invisible attacker but feeling nothing even as another cut appeared. He actually took this one, in hopes he'd be able to grab the hand of whoever was slicing into him, but had nothing to show for it except a deeper oozing cut on his chest.
"Boss?" Nishida asked, looking at the blossoming wounds and then all around for the source.
"Some weird power. Spread out, look for a guy controlling it remotely," he ordered, finding that so long as he kept moving the attacks couldn't concentrate on him long enough to be felt except as a brief touch. Still, he took his flask of crimson tears out of his jacket pocket, the small gold-encrusted flash not as potent as Airmid's potions but making up for it by automatically refilling every day. The red liquid had a metallic tang but a single gulp closed up those small wounds as he hurried through the mansion with everyone splitting up to take different routes.
What he found was a bunch more traps. Spears fired out of walls, crushing blocks dropping from the ceiling, scything pendulums cutting through hallways, even some spinning flamethrower things. Back in Japan he'd have to reach the bottom of a wicked conspiracy to find stuff like this, here it all came because he ran into a guy about to be murdered for being a messy pisser. Worm might be alright.
The dazed man in black he just flung through a set of heavy wooden doors hard enough to knock one of them off its hinges might've disagreed, but it looked like Majima had found the boss's office. Full of really nice looking hand-carved furniture, everything meticulously placed even better than his office after he got scammed into paying for a Feng Shui consultation, and sat behind the desk at the far end was a man in a white suit, his wood and silver mask articulated around his features to show an expression of rage.
To his left was a guy in a classy formal suit with a two-toned black and white mask, and another guy in a green suit with a copper lizard-head mask, while on his right was a woman in a yellow evening gown, her golden mask actually exposing her mouth enough that Majima could see her pinched look of displeasure.
"You dare break into my home, assault my staff, and damage my furniture?" Accord growled. "Before I end you, I would know who I have insulted to induce such a trespass."
He almost felt bad, it really should be over something more dramatic. On the other hand it was such a trivial thing to arouse the initial murder attempt and then Majima's own interference, you couldn't not find it funny. "Guy named Sanderson," he answered, just to see what the reaction would be.
Accord's mask shifted around his face perfectly to show the confused stare he must have been giving Majima. There was an awkward pause before the man with the two-toned mask said, "The toilet seat at La Riviera, sir. Operative Leclerc reported having identified the offender tonight and was going to enact the hit you placed."
A shudder of recognition went through Accord and he stood up, grasping a cane in his hand and pointing at Majima. "Kill him!"
Lizard-mask moved first, rushing towards Majima while the woman stood still and stared at him, his vision turning a washed-out yellow hue. He didn't know what that power was going to do but it didn't stop him from immediately rushing down Lizard-mask who came at him like a more conventional brawler than the blue-suited guy from the entrance. Two-tone mask simply vanished where he stood, no telling what his angle was as Majima and Lizard-mask started trading blows.
Guy could take a punch, better than the goons he'd been fighting to get here, and the ones he threw back were strong enough to be felt as well. Had to be some kind of Brute power, the bigger man grunting with pained exertion as he swung out fast and powerful blows which Majima blocked some of and weaved around others.
"Don't aim for his power, Citrine. He still has to walk, immobilise him for Othello to finish," Accord commanded, separating his cane out to expose the blade hidden inside as he came around the desk.
The next thing he knew his feet were skidding out from under him, the ground feeling like it was coated in slick ice. Lizard-mask seemed just as bad off however and they both separated, tumbling to the friction-less carpet underfoot. His foe was tenacious and grabbed for him as they fell, likely intending to hold him still for whatever Othello had planned.
Majima was faster however, grabbing Lizard-masks's arms and pulling himself upwards… or trying. His hands slid right off the man's sleeves like they'd been greased up, the lack of friction not just confined to the carpet. Still, by pushing against each other they both managed to stay upright, jostling for position and kicking their feet out before Majima felt that same pressure from earlier against his chest.
But with the lack of friction that pressure was able to push him, and Majima let go of Lizard-mask while keeping his balance so he slid his way across the friction-less floor back to the edge of the room where colour returned to his vision.
"Citrine!" Accord rebuked her for her seemingly variable power having been poorly chosen to interact with whatever Othello was doing.
"Sorry, sir, I thought he'd fall down and be an easy target!" she protested as Majima launched himself forward now. A full powered leap brought him through Citrine's field and the length of the expansive office suite, Lizard-mask by now flat on his stomach and unable to get in his way, the air doing nothing to impede him as he crashed into Accord knee first, shattering his mask and sending him back over his desk with a spray of blood.
"Boss is that you there?!" a yell from outside, Nishida sounding like he'd caught up while Citrine looked on with horror at her own boss's fallen form.
He picked up Accord while he was dazed, fragments of mask falling off a round-looking face, his dagger brought towards the man's neck while he gave a leering grin towards Citrine and Lizard-mask. And Othello who was probably intangible somewhere around here, the jackass. "In here, Nishida!" he called, seeing the fight go out of the other capes at seeing their boss effectively held hostage. "Now listen, I'm not gonna say I haven't gone a bit overboard myself sometimes, and nobody likes a messy pisser, but it's a bit much for putting out a hit on a guy."
"… There must be standards," Accord rasped out, "Order. Or else society crumbles."
He hated to be repeating Minami, but, "Ain't that why we've got cleaners though? Why you gotta take responsibility that far?"
"It has to be me. Responsibility, yes, those with power must take it. I saw the dereliction of those who won't. It all started… with my plan to solve world hunger…"
Oh fuck, he could hear the sad music starting up already. Why did it always have to end like this?
Chapter 7
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 3, 2011
08.45
The city might now be hosting the next Eidolon or else a burgeoning S-class threat, the Empire might have had half of its cape roster thrown behind bars, but still life went on. And sadly for Taylor Hebert, that meant going back to school after having two weeks to herself.
She hadn't had any hate mail in over a month, and even back in November Emma and her friends had been backing off, and she'd gotten an apology from Olivia, perhaps even the beginnings of a friendship.
But still she felt nothing but dread as she stepped off the bus outside of Winslow High. Like she was in the calm before the storm, and the return to school would be matched with a return to the bullying.
Her face was blank, no expression as she walked amidst other more talkative students chatting among themselves on the way to school. A grey hoodie and faded jeans worn under her winter coat, dull clothes matching the overcast sky above. Clothes that faded into the background, that she wouldn't care about too much if they had something spilled on them. Trying not to care too much was all she could do to get through the day. Even then she had to tamp down a hopeful urge to just… talk to Olivia. Ask how her holidays had been. Not that she had much to say if the question were returned, but she still missed even that much simple human contact with someone that wasn't her dad.
What she didn't expect was to see a news crew outside the school entrance, a bunch of other students slowing down to gawk at the man in a bright green jacket talking to the cameras. The same man she'd seen on the news pile-driving a bicycle through an Empire cape.
"… part of the advantage to being unmasked is I can be open about where I came from. Wasn't that long ago I was taking classes here at Winslow, and the place sadly doesn't look like it's improved much since then…"
She looked around, expecting to see Emma or her friends trying to get on camera as Advent gave an interview. It was definitely weird to think that a cape could have attended Winslow, even if he probably wasn't a cape back then. When you thought cape and school, you thought Arcadia, at least in this town. She wondered if this was some kind of puff piece as Advent started talking about the lack of resources and care given to students at a neglected school like Winslow, or maybe he was going to offer some sort of funding or scholarship?
Something like this was surely going to draw Emma's attention, if she wasn't here yet she'd probably be on her way. And that meant Taylor wasn't going to stick around, no matter how curious she was. Keeping her head down as she walked past the cameras, she went in through broken metal detectors and up the stairs towards her locker.
Despite the attention that should have been outside, the hallway was crowded. She could see Emma and Sophia and Madison all clustered together, a ring of space around her locker. Emma caught her eye, her old friend wearing skinny jeans and a tight top that showed off her navel despite it being the middle of winter. Their eyes met only briefly before Emma looked away, but she caught the smirk on her otherwise pretty face, the glances immediately coming from Sophia and Madison in response.
Dreading what was to come but resigned to endure it, she kept her head down and approached her locker. A smell began to tickle at her nose, like rotting garbage, and it became clear why there was such a ring of people around her locker giving clearance to its immediate vicinity. Still her body moved on auto-pilot, seemingly determined to stick it out and follow routine despite the warning signs. Her hand spun the combination lock similarly on muscle memory, not even thinking as she opened the locker.
The smell hit her like slamming into a wall. The fetid filth kept back by the flimsy metal door burst free as if it had been compressed, stewing probably since before Christmas. So many tampons and sanitary pads, but nothing sanitary about what she was seeing, what she was smelling.
Gorge rose in her throat and she couldn't hold it back, doubling forward and vomiting, half-digested remnants of breakfast and yesterday's dinner pouring back out of her mouth, splattering over the edge of the locker to mingle with the filth inside.
Her stomach was still churning and forcing more burning bile up her throat when she felt her hair being pulled, a sharp pain in her scalp tugging her head back and making her choke on the still convulsively expelling vomit, a shove at her back towards the locker waiting to welcome her into its filth.
She collided with arm instead, stretched out to bar the way, not budging despite her body hitting it with all the force the person grabbing her could muster.
"Oh shit," a voice she recognised from immediately behind her as Sophia breathed out, the grip on her hair and back relaxing as she coughed and wheezed out the last of her sick. She couldn't even smell the filth any more, but her eyes were still watering enough to blur her vision as she looked up at the owner of that green-sleeved arm that had blocked her from being stuffed into the locker.
"Oh shit is right," Advent said severely.
January 3, 2011
09.10
She was clean now. It hadn't even taken a change of clothes, Advent had just waved a hand over her and all the vomit vanished. He'd said the locker itself was beyond what he could clean with 'magic' so that was a job for an unlucky janitor.
Though how a janitor hadn't noticed the smell and done anything during the vacation was a mystery. The sheer effort her bullies must have gone to to gather so much filth just to cram in her locker was hard to comprehend, and it clearly wasn't enough for them considering Sophia had been about to shove her in there.
She was lucky he'd been close enough to hear the struggle and intervene. If it could be called luck. Had he planned it? Timed it out with his power, the power everyone thought was all he had before the revelations a couple days ago?
It begged the question. "Why are you still here?" It almost sounded rude to ask of the cape who had saved her from something so awful, but didn't he have better things to do than hang around a dump like Winslow while parents and guardians were called? She'd even used his phone to call her dad, told him where to find the folder she'd used to start documenting her bullying since last September.
"Someone's got to look out for you," he answered, standing with his arms crossed next to the plastic chair she was sat in outside the principal's office. Sophia was across from her, matching his posture with arms folded sullenly over her chest, her gaze down at the ground except looking back up to glare whenever Taylor's own eyes lingered her way. "Besides," Advent kept going, "I was booked in for a morning meeting here anyway. Had this whole work experience thing planned out, give kids like you a chance to work in the ever-growing field of cape industry. Even get to work with real tinker-tech!"
She'd heard stories that Arcadia got to do things like that. They were probably exaggerations blown up over the whole 'Wards school' stuff, she couldn't see Armsmaster taking an afternoon off from fighting crime to teach a shop class. It still made her jealous of the kind of opportunities that were considered even possible at a good school, compared to Winslow.
"You're not worried about gangs? A lot of kids here are in them," she asked, welcoming the distraction the topic presented. She was nervous that this would go nowhere, like every other time she'd tried to complain about the bullying. Even if it wasn't like every other time, what had been done to her locker was a massive step up, and this time she actually had an adult in her corner. Not a teacher, but… well, what kid doesn't daydream about Alexandria swooping in and righteously taking their bully to task like in one of those cheesy 90s PSAs? Advent didn't exactly have the heroic reputation of Alexandria, but he was probably in her same league powers-wise. And all that power was just standing casually next to her without even a mask.
"I mean obviously there's got to be some vetting, we don't really want psychos running around our office," Advent gestured over at Sophia, which drew a muttered profanity from her which both Advent and the secretary over behind her desk ignored, "But most of you are still just kids. What better time to present some other options before you get too deep into the gang lifestyle?"
She wondered if he'd feel the same way when someone tried to steal some of that tinker-tech from the office to earn cred with the Empire or ABB. Her musing on that was interrupted by a new arrival coming around the corner. It wasn't Sophia's parent or guardian, nor her dad, but someone she knew well all the same. Alan Barnes, a big red-haired man around the same size as Advent, but not as built. Less muscle, more spread around the waist. He did a double-take at the sight of the unmasked cape.
Despite how long they'd known each other, all those sleepovers at his house, shared meals both at his and her own, he went to Sophia first, telling her how Emma had called him and he was in her corner and would help clear everything up.
Did he even know what had happened? She wondered what Emma had even told him.
"He just thinks it's a prank, Emma just told him you made up a story to get our misunderstood heroine over there in trouble, blew some teasing all out of proportion," Advent said, causing both Sophia and Alan to look over at him with wide eyes. He tapped the side of his head, "Super hearing, remember? It's how I heard Taylor choking from outside the school. I can hear basically everything in the building."
What was it the Document had said? He could hear a conversation seven hundred feet away? There were so many other feats and abilities it was hard to keep track or even contextualise what that really meant. How much was he hearing in any moment? How was his brain keeping track of it all?
"So, Emma's Daddy," Advent stepped towards the middle of the hall outside the principal's office, "Why don't we take a quick walk around to visit Taylor's locker, see exactly what your little princess has been getting her elbows into?"
Alan did not look happy at the prospect, colour draining from his face as Advent approached and laid an arm over his shoulder. "Th-there's no evidence that Emma has anything to do with this incident," he blustered, but all the same he let himself be led away. Leaving her alone with Sophia.
Well, the secretary was there. And the principal was through the door, doing god knows what about this whole mess. She wondered what Advent had been hearing from in there.
Sophia kept her mouth shut, perhaps because of the now vivid awareness of Advent's hearing, but her intense stare focused fully on her now almost had her look away. She usually would, anything that seemed like a challenge would always earn a sharp physical response from Sophia. Instead she looked back and asked, "How much trash did you have to dig through anyway?" It can't have been pleasant. Even if she'd done it at the start of Christmas vacation and it was 'fresher', that just brought its own problems when dealing with that kind of waste.
All she got in reply was pressed together lips and a furrowed brow, Sophia's stare unrelenting. She really wasn't going to say anything now she understood it could all be heard?
"I never did anything to you," she said, hating the quaver that came in her voice, "All the other bullying, it was shit, but you never had to go out of your way just to shove me or write on my desk. This took effort. Insane effort," the words came easier, her voice stronger as she glared back at Sophia from behind her glasses.
"Tch," Sophia clicked her tongue and looked away. "Don't know what you're talking about, Hebert."
And that was all she was going to get out of her.
January 3, 2011
09.30
Alan had looked visibly uncomfortable when he'd returned with Advent and completely avoided looking at Taylor, the group joined by a blonde woman who clearly wasn't Sophia's mother, and finally her dad who'd rushed in and started fussing over her. He'd brought her bullying folder, and she couldn't help but hope he hadn't read it even though she knew it was all going to come out now anyway.
Principal Blackwell had apologised obsequiously to Advent when she came out of her office and everyone relocated to a meeting room by the guidance counsellor's office. Her dad hadn't seen the locker, and that was probably for the best.
"Ahem, thank you all for making time today, I certainly know this wasn't how I intended to spend my morning…" Blackwell said as she sat down at the narrow edge of the egg-shaped table. I was on one side flanked by my dad and Advent, Sophia on the other with Alan and her guardian. The blonde woman was the only one to so much as crack a smile at the principal's wry comment.
"Sure didn't expect to hear someone being assaulted when I was doing a puff piece before our meeting, Edith," Advent said, leaning back in his chair. "Then again, place was always kinda rough."
"Please, assault is a strong word," Alan spoke up, "Perhaps it would be best if we let Sophia and her accuser both explain what happened in their own words?"
"Her accuser, Alan?" Dad's voice dripped disbelief as he leaned forward and glared at a man he'd been friends with since before Taylor had even been born. "Taylor's eaten dinner at your dining room table a hundred times, and you can't even use her name?"
She realised it was a lawyer's trick. Sophia was Sophia, a bright young woman with a promising future ahead of her. Taylor was 'the accuser'. He was dehumanising her from the start, even after seeing what Sophia had tried to stuff her into.
Alan just held up his hands, "I'm sorry Danny, but Sophia's Emma's friend too. I promised I'd look out for her."
"Emma should be here too," she spoke up without even thinking, then feeling everyone's eyes on her she forced herself to keep going. "Her, Sophia, and Madison, they've been bullying me since school started. I thought they'd backed off last month, but that was just to make this hit harder, they were all waiting for me. When I opened my locker and it was full of dirty used tampons and pads that must have been left there over Christmas vacation, I was sick and Sophia grabbed my hair hard enough to hurt before she tried to shove me in. But then Advent was there and he stopped her."
"I was just trying to keep your clumsy ass from slipping in all the mess you were making," Sophia spoke up sullenly, and Taylor stared at her for the blatant lie that it was.
"Yeah, did not look like that to me. I felt a good shove there. Plenty of witnesses too," Advent said, and she wondered how many of those witnesses would have done nothing if not for a cape's appearance. Advent wasn't a hero, but he was a big enough name that probably a lot of people who'd been apathetic to her situation would back him up just to be seen on the winning side, same as they previously would have backed the 'winners' of her bullies.
"Ahem," Blackwell cleared her throat, "For now lets stick to the matter at hand, this is taking up enough of our mornings as it is…"
Her dad waved the folder he'd brought along before slapping it down on the table and opening it. "I think it's all relevant. From the looks of things Taylor's been suffering at the hands of these girls for a long time, if this is part of a coordinated campaign against her, we need to get to the bottom of it." She looked at him, his gaze firm behind his glasses, his expression challenging the others across the table. It felt good, having him in her corner… she hadn't expected that, she'd expected a lot more awkwardness over the revelation that Emma was the one bullying her. Maybe she should have spoken to him about it before.
"I've got time," Advent added. "Someone was complaining I don't follow through enough when I insert myself into these kinds of situations, so I don't mind sticking it out. Besides, if we're going to be offering this program to Winslow students, I want to know those students are being looked after by the school too."
That was a reminder of something that it seemed everyone was just mentally skimming over when it came to Advent. He was a really powerful cape, that was the kind of thing you could mentally latch onto, start figuring out what he might do with his powers, how he fit into the cape scene. But he was also some kind of reincarnating dimensional traveller who was being constantly monitored by some kind of audience that gave him his powers.
Was this what passed for entertainment for his audience? She could never understand the appeal of high school drama.
"Uh, this… audience, are they watching us now?" Sophia's guardian asked, everyone looking around as if they could find the hidden cameras.
"Oh, they're always watching," Advent answered, the sort of response you really didn't want to hear from a powerful cape, but with everything else in the Document about him being accepted, then it wasn't necessarily the ravings of a paranoid delusion. "So lets make sure we do this right, wouldn't want to seem unprofessional, would we?"
Doing it right unfortunately meant going through all the instances she'd recorded of bullying since last September. It meant Emma and Madison were brought in to face the music, Madison looking particularly meek without her parents around while Emma looked to her dad for support. Support which he was seeming increasingly powerless to provide as Advent bulldozed the meeting, forcing Blackwell to go along with her requests when Taylor actually had her opinions and desires solicited.
She didn't want them expelled. That would just give them time to plot against her, and she didn't doubt they could find her outside of school. And it would give them a path to enrolling in Arcadia as the next nearest school. In-school suspension, denial of privileges…
It felt so good when they tried to bring up Sophia's importance to the track and field team, and it just got brushed aside as unimportant by Advent saying the school needed to consider morals over performance, and Blackwell just caved. Instantly.
Madison looked about to cry, Emma looked pained, and Sophia… well, Sophia looked like she might try and strangle her next time they were alone together, but still it looked like things were finally changing for her. Her problems were being taken seriously, and all it took was a locker full of bio-waste and the intervention of a Triumvirate-tier cape.
"Well, I think that wraps up the disciplinary matters," Advent said as the three weeks of in-school suspension were finalised for Sophia, one week for Emma and Madison, "Edith and I really should get on to discussing the work experience program with Jumpco, not keep the rest of you any longer. But Taylor, there's a guaranteed spot for you if you want it. If you can handle this, you can handle anything the office could throw at you."
At long last, were things looking up for Taylor Hebert?
08.45
The city might now be hosting the next Eidolon or else a burgeoning S-class threat, the Empire might have had half of its cape roster thrown behind bars, but still life went on. And sadly for Taylor Hebert, that meant going back to school after having two weeks to herself.
She hadn't had any hate mail in over a month, and even back in November Emma and her friends had been backing off, and she'd gotten an apology from Olivia, perhaps even the beginnings of a friendship.
But still she felt nothing but dread as she stepped off the bus outside of Winslow High. Like she was in the calm before the storm, and the return to school would be matched with a return to the bullying.
Her face was blank, no expression as she walked amidst other more talkative students chatting among themselves on the way to school. A grey hoodie and faded jeans worn under her winter coat, dull clothes matching the overcast sky above. Clothes that faded into the background, that she wouldn't care about too much if they had something spilled on them. Trying not to care too much was all she could do to get through the day. Even then she had to tamp down a hopeful urge to just… talk to Olivia. Ask how her holidays had been. Not that she had much to say if the question were returned, but she still missed even that much simple human contact with someone that wasn't her dad.
What she didn't expect was to see a news crew outside the school entrance, a bunch of other students slowing down to gawk at the man in a bright green jacket talking to the cameras. The same man she'd seen on the news pile-driving a bicycle through an Empire cape.
"… part of the advantage to being unmasked is I can be open about where I came from. Wasn't that long ago I was taking classes here at Winslow, and the place sadly doesn't look like it's improved much since then…"
She looked around, expecting to see Emma or her friends trying to get on camera as Advent gave an interview. It was definitely weird to think that a cape could have attended Winslow, even if he probably wasn't a cape back then. When you thought cape and school, you thought Arcadia, at least in this town. She wondered if this was some kind of puff piece as Advent started talking about the lack of resources and care given to students at a neglected school like Winslow, or maybe he was going to offer some sort of funding or scholarship?
Something like this was surely going to draw Emma's attention, if she wasn't here yet she'd probably be on her way. And that meant Taylor wasn't going to stick around, no matter how curious she was. Keeping her head down as she walked past the cameras, she went in through broken metal detectors and up the stairs towards her locker.
Despite the attention that should have been outside, the hallway was crowded. She could see Emma and Sophia and Madison all clustered together, a ring of space around her locker. Emma caught her eye, her old friend wearing skinny jeans and a tight top that showed off her navel despite it being the middle of winter. Their eyes met only briefly before Emma looked away, but she caught the smirk on her otherwise pretty face, the glances immediately coming from Sophia and Madison in response.
Dreading what was to come but resigned to endure it, she kept her head down and approached her locker. A smell began to tickle at her nose, like rotting garbage, and it became clear why there was such a ring of people around her locker giving clearance to its immediate vicinity. Still her body moved on auto-pilot, seemingly determined to stick it out and follow routine despite the warning signs. Her hand spun the combination lock similarly on muscle memory, not even thinking as she opened the locker.
The smell hit her like slamming into a wall. The fetid filth kept back by the flimsy metal door burst free as if it had been compressed, stewing probably since before Christmas. So many tampons and sanitary pads, but nothing sanitary about what she was seeing, what she was smelling.
Gorge rose in her throat and she couldn't hold it back, doubling forward and vomiting, half-digested remnants of breakfast and yesterday's dinner pouring back out of her mouth, splattering over the edge of the locker to mingle with the filth inside.
Her stomach was still churning and forcing more burning bile up her throat when she felt her hair being pulled, a sharp pain in her scalp tugging her head back and making her choke on the still convulsively expelling vomit, a shove at her back towards the locker waiting to welcome her into its filth.
She collided with arm instead, stretched out to bar the way, not budging despite her body hitting it with all the force the person grabbing her could muster.
"Oh shit," a voice she recognised from immediately behind her as Sophia breathed out, the grip on her hair and back relaxing as she coughed and wheezed out the last of her sick. She couldn't even smell the filth any more, but her eyes were still watering enough to blur her vision as she looked up at the owner of that green-sleeved arm that had blocked her from being stuffed into the locker.
"Oh shit is right," Advent said severely.
January 3, 2011
09.10
She was clean now. It hadn't even taken a change of clothes, Advent had just waved a hand over her and all the vomit vanished. He'd said the locker itself was beyond what he could clean with 'magic' so that was a job for an unlucky janitor.
Though how a janitor hadn't noticed the smell and done anything during the vacation was a mystery. The sheer effort her bullies must have gone to to gather so much filth just to cram in her locker was hard to comprehend, and it clearly wasn't enough for them considering Sophia had been about to shove her in there.
She was lucky he'd been close enough to hear the struggle and intervene. If it could be called luck. Had he planned it? Timed it out with his power, the power everyone thought was all he had before the revelations a couple days ago?
It begged the question. "Why are you still here?" It almost sounded rude to ask of the cape who had saved her from something so awful, but didn't he have better things to do than hang around a dump like Winslow while parents and guardians were called? She'd even used his phone to call her dad, told him where to find the folder she'd used to start documenting her bullying since last September.
"Someone's got to look out for you," he answered, standing with his arms crossed next to the plastic chair she was sat in outside the principal's office. Sophia was across from her, matching his posture with arms folded sullenly over her chest, her gaze down at the ground except looking back up to glare whenever Taylor's own eyes lingered her way. "Besides," Advent kept going, "I was booked in for a morning meeting here anyway. Had this whole work experience thing planned out, give kids like you a chance to work in the ever-growing field of cape industry. Even get to work with real tinker-tech!"
She'd heard stories that Arcadia got to do things like that. They were probably exaggerations blown up over the whole 'Wards school' stuff, she couldn't see Armsmaster taking an afternoon off from fighting crime to teach a shop class. It still made her jealous of the kind of opportunities that were considered even possible at a good school, compared to Winslow.
"You're not worried about gangs? A lot of kids here are in them," she asked, welcoming the distraction the topic presented. She was nervous that this would go nowhere, like every other time she'd tried to complain about the bullying. Even if it wasn't like every other time, what had been done to her locker was a massive step up, and this time she actually had an adult in her corner. Not a teacher, but… well, what kid doesn't daydream about Alexandria swooping in and righteously taking their bully to task like in one of those cheesy 90s PSAs? Advent didn't exactly have the heroic reputation of Alexandria, but he was probably in her same league powers-wise. And all that power was just standing casually next to her without even a mask.
"I mean obviously there's got to be some vetting, we don't really want psychos running around our office," Advent gestured over at Sophia, which drew a muttered profanity from her which both Advent and the secretary over behind her desk ignored, "But most of you are still just kids. What better time to present some other options before you get too deep into the gang lifestyle?"
She wondered if he'd feel the same way when someone tried to steal some of that tinker-tech from the office to earn cred with the Empire or ABB. Her musing on that was interrupted by a new arrival coming around the corner. It wasn't Sophia's parent or guardian, nor her dad, but someone she knew well all the same. Alan Barnes, a big red-haired man around the same size as Advent, but not as built. Less muscle, more spread around the waist. He did a double-take at the sight of the unmasked cape.
Despite how long they'd known each other, all those sleepovers at his house, shared meals both at his and her own, he went to Sophia first, telling her how Emma had called him and he was in her corner and would help clear everything up.
Did he even know what had happened? She wondered what Emma had even told him.
"He just thinks it's a prank, Emma just told him you made up a story to get our misunderstood heroine over there in trouble, blew some teasing all out of proportion," Advent said, causing both Sophia and Alan to look over at him with wide eyes. He tapped the side of his head, "Super hearing, remember? It's how I heard Taylor choking from outside the school. I can hear basically everything in the building."
What was it the Document had said? He could hear a conversation seven hundred feet away? There were so many other feats and abilities it was hard to keep track or even contextualise what that really meant. How much was he hearing in any moment? How was his brain keeping track of it all?
"So, Emma's Daddy," Advent stepped towards the middle of the hall outside the principal's office, "Why don't we take a quick walk around to visit Taylor's locker, see exactly what your little princess has been getting her elbows into?"
Alan did not look happy at the prospect, colour draining from his face as Advent approached and laid an arm over his shoulder. "Th-there's no evidence that Emma has anything to do with this incident," he blustered, but all the same he let himself be led away. Leaving her alone with Sophia.
Well, the secretary was there. And the principal was through the door, doing god knows what about this whole mess. She wondered what Advent had been hearing from in there.
Sophia kept her mouth shut, perhaps because of the now vivid awareness of Advent's hearing, but her intense stare focused fully on her now almost had her look away. She usually would, anything that seemed like a challenge would always earn a sharp physical response from Sophia. Instead she looked back and asked, "How much trash did you have to dig through anyway?" It can't have been pleasant. Even if she'd done it at the start of Christmas vacation and it was 'fresher', that just brought its own problems when dealing with that kind of waste.
All she got in reply was pressed together lips and a furrowed brow, Sophia's stare unrelenting. She really wasn't going to say anything now she understood it could all be heard?
"I never did anything to you," she said, hating the quaver that came in her voice, "All the other bullying, it was shit, but you never had to go out of your way just to shove me or write on my desk. This took effort. Insane effort," the words came easier, her voice stronger as she glared back at Sophia from behind her glasses.
"Tch," Sophia clicked her tongue and looked away. "Don't know what you're talking about, Hebert."
And that was all she was going to get out of her.
January 3, 2011
09.30
Alan had looked visibly uncomfortable when he'd returned with Advent and completely avoided looking at Taylor, the group joined by a blonde woman who clearly wasn't Sophia's mother, and finally her dad who'd rushed in and started fussing over her. He'd brought her bullying folder, and she couldn't help but hope he hadn't read it even though she knew it was all going to come out now anyway.
Principal Blackwell had apologised obsequiously to Advent when she came out of her office and everyone relocated to a meeting room by the guidance counsellor's office. Her dad hadn't seen the locker, and that was probably for the best.
"Ahem, thank you all for making time today, I certainly know this wasn't how I intended to spend my morning…" Blackwell said as she sat down at the narrow edge of the egg-shaped table. I was on one side flanked by my dad and Advent, Sophia on the other with Alan and her guardian. The blonde woman was the only one to so much as crack a smile at the principal's wry comment.
"Sure didn't expect to hear someone being assaulted when I was doing a puff piece before our meeting, Edith," Advent said, leaning back in his chair. "Then again, place was always kinda rough."
"Please, assault is a strong word," Alan spoke up, "Perhaps it would be best if we let Sophia and her accuser both explain what happened in their own words?"
"Her accuser, Alan?" Dad's voice dripped disbelief as he leaned forward and glared at a man he'd been friends with since before Taylor had even been born. "Taylor's eaten dinner at your dining room table a hundred times, and you can't even use her name?"
She realised it was a lawyer's trick. Sophia was Sophia, a bright young woman with a promising future ahead of her. Taylor was 'the accuser'. He was dehumanising her from the start, even after seeing what Sophia had tried to stuff her into.
Alan just held up his hands, "I'm sorry Danny, but Sophia's Emma's friend too. I promised I'd look out for her."
"Emma should be here too," she spoke up without even thinking, then feeling everyone's eyes on her she forced herself to keep going. "Her, Sophia, and Madison, they've been bullying me since school started. I thought they'd backed off last month, but that was just to make this hit harder, they were all waiting for me. When I opened my locker and it was full of dirty used tampons and pads that must have been left there over Christmas vacation, I was sick and Sophia grabbed my hair hard enough to hurt before she tried to shove me in. But then Advent was there and he stopped her."
"I was just trying to keep your clumsy ass from slipping in all the mess you were making," Sophia spoke up sullenly, and Taylor stared at her for the blatant lie that it was.
"Yeah, did not look like that to me. I felt a good shove there. Plenty of witnesses too," Advent said, and she wondered how many of those witnesses would have done nothing if not for a cape's appearance. Advent wasn't a hero, but he was a big enough name that probably a lot of people who'd been apathetic to her situation would back him up just to be seen on the winning side, same as they previously would have backed the 'winners' of her bullies.
"Ahem," Blackwell cleared her throat, "For now lets stick to the matter at hand, this is taking up enough of our mornings as it is…"
Her dad waved the folder he'd brought along before slapping it down on the table and opening it. "I think it's all relevant. From the looks of things Taylor's been suffering at the hands of these girls for a long time, if this is part of a coordinated campaign against her, we need to get to the bottom of it." She looked at him, his gaze firm behind his glasses, his expression challenging the others across the table. It felt good, having him in her corner… she hadn't expected that, she'd expected a lot more awkwardness over the revelation that Emma was the one bullying her. Maybe she should have spoken to him about it before.
"I've got time," Advent added. "Someone was complaining I don't follow through enough when I insert myself into these kinds of situations, so I don't mind sticking it out. Besides, if we're going to be offering this program to Winslow students, I want to know those students are being looked after by the school too."
That was a reminder of something that it seemed everyone was just mentally skimming over when it came to Advent. He was a really powerful cape, that was the kind of thing you could mentally latch onto, start figuring out what he might do with his powers, how he fit into the cape scene. But he was also some kind of reincarnating dimensional traveller who was being constantly monitored by some kind of audience that gave him his powers.
Was this what passed for entertainment for his audience? She could never understand the appeal of high school drama.
"Uh, this… audience, are they watching us now?" Sophia's guardian asked, everyone looking around as if they could find the hidden cameras.
"Oh, they're always watching," Advent answered, the sort of response you really didn't want to hear from a powerful cape, but with everything else in the Document about him being accepted, then it wasn't necessarily the ravings of a paranoid delusion. "So lets make sure we do this right, wouldn't want to seem unprofessional, would we?"
Doing it right unfortunately meant going through all the instances she'd recorded of bullying since last September. It meant Emma and Madison were brought in to face the music, Madison looking particularly meek without her parents around while Emma looked to her dad for support. Support which he was seeming increasingly powerless to provide as Advent bulldozed the meeting, forcing Blackwell to go along with her requests when Taylor actually had her opinions and desires solicited.
She didn't want them expelled. That would just give them time to plot against her, and she didn't doubt they could find her outside of school. And it would give them a path to enrolling in Arcadia as the next nearest school. In-school suspension, denial of privileges…
It felt so good when they tried to bring up Sophia's importance to the track and field team, and it just got brushed aside as unimportant by Advent saying the school needed to consider morals over performance, and Blackwell just caved. Instantly.
Madison looked about to cry, Emma looked pained, and Sophia… well, Sophia looked like she might try and strangle her next time they were alone together, but still it looked like things were finally changing for her. Her problems were being taken seriously, and all it took was a locker full of bio-waste and the intervention of a Triumvirate-tier cape.
"Well, I think that wraps up the disciplinary matters," Advent said as the three weeks of in-school suspension were finalised for Sophia, one week for Emma and Madison, "Edith and I really should get on to discussing the work experience program with Jumpco, not keep the rest of you any longer. But Taylor, there's a guaranteed spot for you if you want it. If you can handle this, you can handle anything the office could throw at you."
At long last, were things looking up for Taylor Hebert?
dracklor
Beyond the Frontier
- Location
- Texas
Oh, you know that QA is feeling so angry right now. So, so close to getting a Host after Danny managed to deny her all this time, only to have some jumped up lizard show up and "clock-block" her at the last second.
No, I couldn't resist the pun, not with the MC being a time dragon and Dennis already having brought that bit of juvenile humor to the setting
Last edited:
Chapter 8
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
-390,000,000
Sunrise
Ixen knew that a new jump had come. They had all been warned that their time in Elden Ring was nearing its end, and then between one moment and the next he had been given the Choice. He could leave and return to Abeir-Toril, and another kobold would be given his place in service to the dragon of time.
Why would he ever surrender his place to another? It felt like a test of faith, and it was one he refused as he ever did.
And then his body was rejuvenated, and he found himself along with dozens of other kobolds standing before the hoard. He had been there at the start, watching in awe as the great egg quivered and cracked, and the greatest of dragons had emerged from his shell. Showing his greatness by growing from a wyrmling to a very young dragon in mere moments while he and the scant five other kobolds who had founded the tribe had set to cleaning his charcoal-hued scales of the residue from his hatching and he had eaten his shell as his first meal.
The egg was long gone, and the initial hoard of gold and silver coins barely big enough for a rapidly growing dragon to sleep upon had swollen to a vast sea of lucre, a bed fit for the greatest of dragons, and all around were chests and display stands hosting yet more valuables. Crowns and sceptres, ceremonial armours, ostentatious weapons, all heaped in tribute to a dragon's majesty.
No mere cave was his lair either, but a grand palace. The sun shone in through stained glass windows that created a colourful kaleidoscope all over glittering jewels and gleaming coins. The walls were covered in mosaics and gilded frescos studded with more precious gems, depicting scenes from their journey, their Jumpchain.
His eyes lingered on one that depicted a many-legged behir like some unholy fusion of dragon and centipede being impaled on spikes, and he felt a throb of pride in his breast. He had set that trap. Many more scenes like that were depicted all around the lair, it was impossible to look anywhere without seeing their triumphs made manifest.
A loud clapping noise and blast of air that came with it drew everyone's attention to an enormous figure of dark brown skin and burning red hair and beard. That was Jamok, the leader of the fire giants, and because he was the biggest and strongest, effectively the one in charge of the lair when Jason or his companions weren't present.
"Alright, we're in a new jump, all of you look lively," his deep booming voice called out as he stood tall, his formidable figure clad in interlocking plates of bluish-green armour that came from the verdigris mine added to the lair during the last jump. Ixen had spent a lot of time down there mining for the divinely durable metal – the giants were masters of the forge, but it was the kobolds who made their work possible.
"We don't know if this is going to be like the last two jumps, or if it's going to be like the first," Jamok continued. "So serving staff, you all do your jobs and look to see if there's any new additions." That was as much as could be asked of the maids and butlers, the humans who handled cleaning and cooking around the lair, but only those chores. They were very jealous of it too, and it wasn't worth it for a kobold to help with any dusting for the amount of complaints it would cause. That was alright, there was lots of other work to be done. "The rest of us will check the perimeter, see what kind of location we're in and if we can expect trouble."
There hadn't been trouble in the lair for a long time. Which was unfortunate because now they were far better equipped to handle it. Jamok wasn't the only one with verdigris armour, Ixen had a breastplate of it covering his vitals, further enchanted for protection and matched with a frost enchanted dagger that could fire a freezing glintstone pebble at a distance. Coupled with his magic rings and amulet, and Ixen was better equipped than many adventurers. The blessing of Jason's falna coursed through him as well, making him stronger than a raging orc, and he could draw on the power of the Crucible to bring himself even further in tune with the dragon within.
But it had been decades since the lair had actually been attacked. Those first years after the hatching, they had been beset near constantly by time-travelling behir and adventurers desperate to kill or steal from Jason. It had taken all their effort just to keep the traps from breaking down, relying entirely on Jason's personal might to defeat the never-ending stream of invaders.
Since then their redoubt at the dawn of time had been inviolable however. Never anything worse than primitive animals trying to get in. But they had no way of knowing if that would change in this jump, whether from time travelling dangers native to the reality or summoned by one of the drawbacks the great dragon would submit himself to in order to prove his might.
While there were tunnels and passages criss-crossing the lair which were suitable for a kobold or even a human to stealthily navigate through, Ixen stuck to the main hallways as he left the treasure room. Cavernous paths fit for a dragon to walk down in comfort, even one far larger than Jason. He was still young by the standards of his great kind, he would only continue to grow in time. It provided ample room for several fire giants to stride side by side, and Ixen followed in their wake with several other kobolds all as well equipped as he was before they split off to scour the lair for potential intruders on their way to the various entrances.
Even away from the main hoard, riches and wealth remained on display. A fresco depicting the explosion of a great tower that sent coins and wealth flying everywhere stood to one side, and it was one who's meaning Ixen often pondered. The scene depicted a tragedy to a dragon's sensibilities, a hoard being split asunder. And yet the mood of it was still somehow triumphant and hopeful. He believed it must be a symbol of resilience, of a dragon's ability to withstand a temporary setback and regain what was lost tenfold.
There would be time to dwell on it later. Lots of time, something they were never short of, but right now they were facing the unknown situation of their arrival in a new jump, now was a time for urgency and so he kept moving without slowing to admire the artwork. The giant walking ahead of them covered ground with enormous footsteps that kobolds had to scurry to keep up with, and all of them were careful to avoid stepping on pressure plates that would trigger various traps Ixen and his comrades had spent decades refining.
Passing by a door of glowing wood, Ixen felt his scales shift as his body reacted to the energy of the Crucible that lay behind it. Horns and teeth threatened to push through his neatly polished scales, but he was able to hold them back with mental effort.
The dragon scale toughens my skin. The dragon bone adorns my skull. The dragon heart flames my sorcery. I am the dragon, and for the dragon I live. Long live the dragon
The catechism centred his mind, and his body stilled in response. The power of the Crucible was a great thing, a font of primordial life rife with possibilities. But Ixen would only funnel those possibilities in one direction, bringing him closer to the dragon that every kobold felt in their blood.
He could see a curving bone-white horn begin to poke through the neck of the kobold walking with him, a younger one hatched during their time in Danmachi. "Control yourself, Svent," he hissed in rebuke, reaching over and slapping the back of his head. "You are of the dragon, you are not a beast."
"Apologies, elder, my thoughts wavered," Svent stumbled from the blow, reaching up to gingerly tug at the encroaching horn marring his scales. He would have to get it filed down later. Command of the Crucible's energy could allow temporary manifestations of a sweeping draconic tail, powerful flight-capable wings, even the elemental breathing sac to let a kobold spit forth a torrent of flame. But it required constant vigilance to control, lest one's body be riven with aimless mutations which had to be more painfully excised.
Nothing disturbed them further before they reached one of the great gates that bounded the lair. The huge wooden door had a smaller one inset that was better sized for kobolds and humans, but the fire giant with them opened the full size door with an exertion of his own muscles that were bolstered by the same means that empowered Ixen. He did not know what means the giants used to resist the Crucible's mutagenic nature, but he knew they were more likely to embrace it than the kobolds who's discipline kept them focused solely upon the dragon within.
Warm air greeted them as they emerged onto a world lit by a primordial sun. They were on a plateau with a commanding view of the landscape and protected from flooding, the ground covered in rocks he knew would be rich with minerals. In a world untouched by intelligent hands, you did not need to dig for ore, it was plentiful even on the surface. There was no plant-life nearby to the lair's entrance, but he could see the hills and valleys below that reached the horizon were covered in green. Primitive ferns and strange looking trees not one of which was taller than a fire giant coated the landscape. Narrow trunks with bristly needles crowning their heads. The ground around them littered with fallen branches from their growth, nothing in this time period having evolved yet to decompose wood.
Ixen understood evolution. He understood science. The lair held a great library containing books from every world they visited, and he had ample time to read. Learning knowledge to teach the young and to better serve Jason. The kobolds rarely left the lair, but sometimes they were given opportunities to do so in order to help Jason in the 'present' where he primarily concerned himself. Reading the books in the library gave them a chance to understand what they would be facing, when every jump brought its own unique reality.
Whether this world was unfinished with its deities not yet having refined its creatures, or if the random accidents of natural selection were still working towards filling every niche, the fact was it was a world covered in stubby little trees and dead wood that could only bleach and fossilise. They explored the area around the lair but found nothing more than simple plants and crawling insects, none large enough to be a threat. At worst they'd be pests for the maids and butlers to deal with.
Returning back inside after their exploration, Ixen did learn from the talkative humans that a single new item had been brought into the lair, and was in the library in fact. A computer. Ixen had never seen a computer but he had read about them. Thinking machines that were extremely important in jumps like Fate and Yakuza, but didn't exist in Danmachi or Elden Ring. That meant they were probably in a jump similar to the earlier two.
He went to the library to have a look at it, far from the only one. Of course no one was going to touch it, that would be unthinkable, but there was no harm in looking. It was a curious looking thing, a slim rectangular box made of matte black material and polished metal. "This is the computer? I thought they were bigger," he said as he approached the table where it had been placed near the entrance to the library, multiple levels of arcing shelves disappearing into the distance containing the written wisdom of multiple worlds, from simple books of wyrmling's stories to forgotten tomes of eldritch wisdom.
"It's the kind they call a laptop, I believe," Penelope said, a human woman wearing the black and white uniform of the maids, all lace and frills. "You see how it's segmented? It opens up so one half is the screen which shows what the computer is doing, and one half is the keyboard you use to make it do things."
"It's so small though, was this really the only new addition?" Jamok the fire giant sounded disappointed as he squatted down to better look at the mysterious device. "We really got spoiled last time with all the verdigris and glintsone… I hope Jason at least brings us some exotic metals from the future to work with."
"It was the only new item of consequence we found," Penelope responded in an officious tone that was universal to the maids and butlers, crossing her arms over her apron. "And we were quite thorough, I can assure you. Beyond the addition of a new wing to the library, we documented four hundred and sixty five new cultural works associated with the new world, primarily objects of art and paintings, all of them already positioned for display."
Jamok grumbled like a disappointed hatchling while Ixen circled around the computer to study it, examining what he could without touching. He couldn't remember what all the parts were called, but there were holes he was sure were there for connecting it to other computers, and a recessed button that would presumably activate it. He yearned to push the button, but he ignored that impulse the same as he ignored the impulse to roll around the bed of gold coins when Jason wasn't around.
As if summoned by his thoughts however, the sound of heavy footsteps came from outside the library. Heavier than those of armoured giants, and with the rhythm of four feet traversing the stone. He stood up straight, suddenly vibrating with excitement as his comrades similarly looked alert and eager, before the enormous head of a time dragon appeared in the doorway to the library, an hour-glass-shaped mask of black scales surrounding luminous silver eyes, a large fin-like spike projecting from the back of his head while a jaw filled with sharp pearl-white fangs hung partially open.
"Hey everyone, you all checking out the tinker data core too?" his words were deceptively casual for the sheer power felt behind that voice as Jason's gargantuan bulk prowled into the library with leonine grace.
"We thought it was a computer…" Jamok said morosely, everyone feeling a pang of disappointment at having guessed wrong.
"Oh. Yeah, it is a computer, sorry. Just a kind of computer that has tinker technology on it. It's a big deal for this jump," Jason explained, causing a recovery in everyone's moods.
"I thought it would be bigger," Airmid said as one of Jason's companions walked around his forelimbs to approach the device, her words giving Ixen a thrill of vindication. They weren't wrong to think that!
"Mmmn," Jason made a humming noise while Airmid fearlessly opened up the segmented device and pushed the button, a chime coming from it before the screen lit up. "Chat probably made it that way so it's easy to carry around, and easy to lose. How does it look?"
"I'm a bio-tinker not a computer-tinker," Airmid answered, the comment for some reason drawing an amused chuffing noise from Jason, "But it seems to have a windows style interface." Clacking sounds came from her fingers tapping at the keyboard while everyone shifted around so they could better watch the pictures on the screen. "Searchable database, technology divided by categories and linking to necessary precursors… photonic crystals? Isn't that what BB's Moon Cell was made from?"
"Yeah, when you think about it the Moon Cell's kind of like an information gathering shard," Jason said while Ixen did his best to pay attention and remember things to look up later so he could better understand the great dragon's wisdom. "Anyway, we'll want to leave this here. Way too important to risk it getting stolen. I'll come back later with some solar panels and other computers we can hook in, get some of the guys to start sorting through it into technology we can start producing and selling. Heh, Best in the Business means we can turn anyone into an elite tinker-tech researcher in a month at most."
"Assuming we don't get shut down by protectionist laws," Airmid's expression turned pinched, and Ixen felt a surge of indignation that any law would try to go against the will of a dragon. "We might want to go international."
"Maybe," Jason said, but it was a tone they all knew meant 'no', and indeed the follow-up confirmed that with his wisdom, "But where goes America so goes the world. And even if we could go to some lawless country in Africa and get everyone trained up to produce this kind of stuff, getting the supply chains of necessary materials is going to be a nightmare, and we'd be dealing with a completely unfamiliar population of potentially hostile capes. If we stick to America we mostly know what we're up against, and we've got a functional infrastructure to start building stuff. This kind of sci-fi uplift's a long haul project, I doubt we'll even be done by the time the jump ends, but we can at least make progress."
"We have good perks for it. We just need to avoid the end of the world," Airmid said, closing the computer down with a click of its two halves coming together. "I need to go and collect some potions to give to Majima's group before they leave town. Is everyone here healthy?" she cast her eyes over Ixen and the other permanent lair-dwellers.
"Of course, ma'am. The lair is pristine and all of its staff are in excellent health," Penelope said, drawing herself up with pride.
"We're all good, there's nothing outside but primitive plants and tiny bugs," Jamok confirmed for his side of things.
Ixen exhaled through his teeth and reluctantly admitted, "Svent grew a horn out his neck earlier, let himself be taken by the Crucible." It rankled to admit a kobold had been insufficiently devoted to the dragon within, but Airmid could remove the horn far more cleanly, and he knew she'd get upset if she saw it later.
"It's always the Crucible, isn't it?" Airmid let out her own exhalation to match his own. "I'll take care of him."
"Take your time," Jason said, easing his way back out of the library. "I'm going to relax on the hoard. Ixen, you want to round up some helpers to give my scales a polish?"
Starting the jump with a scale polish, and it sounded like there'd be a lot more work to do with the new computers in the lair? He had a feeling this was going to be a good jump!
Sunrise
Ixen knew that a new jump had come. They had all been warned that their time in Elden Ring was nearing its end, and then between one moment and the next he had been given the Choice. He could leave and return to Abeir-Toril, and another kobold would be given his place in service to the dragon of time.
Why would he ever surrender his place to another? It felt like a test of faith, and it was one he refused as he ever did.
And then his body was rejuvenated, and he found himself along with dozens of other kobolds standing before the hoard. He had been there at the start, watching in awe as the great egg quivered and cracked, and the greatest of dragons had emerged from his shell. Showing his greatness by growing from a wyrmling to a very young dragon in mere moments while he and the scant five other kobolds who had founded the tribe had set to cleaning his charcoal-hued scales of the residue from his hatching and he had eaten his shell as his first meal.
The egg was long gone, and the initial hoard of gold and silver coins barely big enough for a rapidly growing dragon to sleep upon had swollen to a vast sea of lucre, a bed fit for the greatest of dragons, and all around were chests and display stands hosting yet more valuables. Crowns and sceptres, ceremonial armours, ostentatious weapons, all heaped in tribute to a dragon's majesty.
No mere cave was his lair either, but a grand palace. The sun shone in through stained glass windows that created a colourful kaleidoscope all over glittering jewels and gleaming coins. The walls were covered in mosaics and gilded frescos studded with more precious gems, depicting scenes from their journey, their Jumpchain.
His eyes lingered on one that depicted a many-legged behir like some unholy fusion of dragon and centipede being impaled on spikes, and he felt a throb of pride in his breast. He had set that trap. Many more scenes like that were depicted all around the lair, it was impossible to look anywhere without seeing their triumphs made manifest.
A loud clapping noise and blast of air that came with it drew everyone's attention to an enormous figure of dark brown skin and burning red hair and beard. That was Jamok, the leader of the fire giants, and because he was the biggest and strongest, effectively the one in charge of the lair when Jason or his companions weren't present.
"Alright, we're in a new jump, all of you look lively," his deep booming voice called out as he stood tall, his formidable figure clad in interlocking plates of bluish-green armour that came from the verdigris mine added to the lair during the last jump. Ixen had spent a lot of time down there mining for the divinely durable metal – the giants were masters of the forge, but it was the kobolds who made their work possible.
"We don't know if this is going to be like the last two jumps, or if it's going to be like the first," Jamok continued. "So serving staff, you all do your jobs and look to see if there's any new additions." That was as much as could be asked of the maids and butlers, the humans who handled cleaning and cooking around the lair, but only those chores. They were very jealous of it too, and it wasn't worth it for a kobold to help with any dusting for the amount of complaints it would cause. That was alright, there was lots of other work to be done. "The rest of us will check the perimeter, see what kind of location we're in and if we can expect trouble."
There hadn't been trouble in the lair for a long time. Which was unfortunate because now they were far better equipped to handle it. Jamok wasn't the only one with verdigris armour, Ixen had a breastplate of it covering his vitals, further enchanted for protection and matched with a frost enchanted dagger that could fire a freezing glintstone pebble at a distance. Coupled with his magic rings and amulet, and Ixen was better equipped than many adventurers. The blessing of Jason's falna coursed through him as well, making him stronger than a raging orc, and he could draw on the power of the Crucible to bring himself even further in tune with the dragon within.
But it had been decades since the lair had actually been attacked. Those first years after the hatching, they had been beset near constantly by time-travelling behir and adventurers desperate to kill or steal from Jason. It had taken all their effort just to keep the traps from breaking down, relying entirely on Jason's personal might to defeat the never-ending stream of invaders.
Since then their redoubt at the dawn of time had been inviolable however. Never anything worse than primitive animals trying to get in. But they had no way of knowing if that would change in this jump, whether from time travelling dangers native to the reality or summoned by one of the drawbacks the great dragon would submit himself to in order to prove his might.
While there were tunnels and passages criss-crossing the lair which were suitable for a kobold or even a human to stealthily navigate through, Ixen stuck to the main hallways as he left the treasure room. Cavernous paths fit for a dragon to walk down in comfort, even one far larger than Jason. He was still young by the standards of his great kind, he would only continue to grow in time. It provided ample room for several fire giants to stride side by side, and Ixen followed in their wake with several other kobolds all as well equipped as he was before they split off to scour the lair for potential intruders on their way to the various entrances.
Even away from the main hoard, riches and wealth remained on display. A fresco depicting the explosion of a great tower that sent coins and wealth flying everywhere stood to one side, and it was one who's meaning Ixen often pondered. The scene depicted a tragedy to a dragon's sensibilities, a hoard being split asunder. And yet the mood of it was still somehow triumphant and hopeful. He believed it must be a symbol of resilience, of a dragon's ability to withstand a temporary setback and regain what was lost tenfold.
There would be time to dwell on it later. Lots of time, something they were never short of, but right now they were facing the unknown situation of their arrival in a new jump, now was a time for urgency and so he kept moving without slowing to admire the artwork. The giant walking ahead of them covered ground with enormous footsteps that kobolds had to scurry to keep up with, and all of them were careful to avoid stepping on pressure plates that would trigger various traps Ixen and his comrades had spent decades refining.
Passing by a door of glowing wood, Ixen felt his scales shift as his body reacted to the energy of the Crucible that lay behind it. Horns and teeth threatened to push through his neatly polished scales, but he was able to hold them back with mental effort.
The dragon scale toughens my skin. The dragon bone adorns my skull. The dragon heart flames my sorcery. I am the dragon, and for the dragon I live. Long live the dragon
The catechism centred his mind, and his body stilled in response. The power of the Crucible was a great thing, a font of primordial life rife with possibilities. But Ixen would only funnel those possibilities in one direction, bringing him closer to the dragon that every kobold felt in their blood.
He could see a curving bone-white horn begin to poke through the neck of the kobold walking with him, a younger one hatched during their time in Danmachi. "Control yourself, Svent," he hissed in rebuke, reaching over and slapping the back of his head. "You are of the dragon, you are not a beast."
"Apologies, elder, my thoughts wavered," Svent stumbled from the blow, reaching up to gingerly tug at the encroaching horn marring his scales. He would have to get it filed down later. Command of the Crucible's energy could allow temporary manifestations of a sweeping draconic tail, powerful flight-capable wings, even the elemental breathing sac to let a kobold spit forth a torrent of flame. But it required constant vigilance to control, lest one's body be riven with aimless mutations which had to be more painfully excised.
Nothing disturbed them further before they reached one of the great gates that bounded the lair. The huge wooden door had a smaller one inset that was better sized for kobolds and humans, but the fire giant with them opened the full size door with an exertion of his own muscles that were bolstered by the same means that empowered Ixen. He did not know what means the giants used to resist the Crucible's mutagenic nature, but he knew they were more likely to embrace it than the kobolds who's discipline kept them focused solely upon the dragon within.
Warm air greeted them as they emerged onto a world lit by a primordial sun. They were on a plateau with a commanding view of the landscape and protected from flooding, the ground covered in rocks he knew would be rich with minerals. In a world untouched by intelligent hands, you did not need to dig for ore, it was plentiful even on the surface. There was no plant-life nearby to the lair's entrance, but he could see the hills and valleys below that reached the horizon were covered in green. Primitive ferns and strange looking trees not one of which was taller than a fire giant coated the landscape. Narrow trunks with bristly needles crowning their heads. The ground around them littered with fallen branches from their growth, nothing in this time period having evolved yet to decompose wood.
Ixen understood evolution. He understood science. The lair held a great library containing books from every world they visited, and he had ample time to read. Learning knowledge to teach the young and to better serve Jason. The kobolds rarely left the lair, but sometimes they were given opportunities to do so in order to help Jason in the 'present' where he primarily concerned himself. Reading the books in the library gave them a chance to understand what they would be facing, when every jump brought its own unique reality.
Whether this world was unfinished with its deities not yet having refined its creatures, or if the random accidents of natural selection were still working towards filling every niche, the fact was it was a world covered in stubby little trees and dead wood that could only bleach and fossilise. They explored the area around the lair but found nothing more than simple plants and crawling insects, none large enough to be a threat. At worst they'd be pests for the maids and butlers to deal with.
Returning back inside after their exploration, Ixen did learn from the talkative humans that a single new item had been brought into the lair, and was in the library in fact. A computer. Ixen had never seen a computer but he had read about them. Thinking machines that were extremely important in jumps like Fate and Yakuza, but didn't exist in Danmachi or Elden Ring. That meant they were probably in a jump similar to the earlier two.
He went to the library to have a look at it, far from the only one. Of course no one was going to touch it, that would be unthinkable, but there was no harm in looking. It was a curious looking thing, a slim rectangular box made of matte black material and polished metal. "This is the computer? I thought they were bigger," he said as he approached the table where it had been placed near the entrance to the library, multiple levels of arcing shelves disappearing into the distance containing the written wisdom of multiple worlds, from simple books of wyrmling's stories to forgotten tomes of eldritch wisdom.
"It's the kind they call a laptop, I believe," Penelope said, a human woman wearing the black and white uniform of the maids, all lace and frills. "You see how it's segmented? It opens up so one half is the screen which shows what the computer is doing, and one half is the keyboard you use to make it do things."
"It's so small though, was this really the only new addition?" Jamok the fire giant sounded disappointed as he squatted down to better look at the mysterious device. "We really got spoiled last time with all the verdigris and glintsone… I hope Jason at least brings us some exotic metals from the future to work with."
"It was the only new item of consequence we found," Penelope responded in an officious tone that was universal to the maids and butlers, crossing her arms over her apron. "And we were quite thorough, I can assure you. Beyond the addition of a new wing to the library, we documented four hundred and sixty five new cultural works associated with the new world, primarily objects of art and paintings, all of them already positioned for display."
Jamok grumbled like a disappointed hatchling while Ixen circled around the computer to study it, examining what he could without touching. He couldn't remember what all the parts were called, but there were holes he was sure were there for connecting it to other computers, and a recessed button that would presumably activate it. He yearned to push the button, but he ignored that impulse the same as he ignored the impulse to roll around the bed of gold coins when Jason wasn't around.
As if summoned by his thoughts however, the sound of heavy footsteps came from outside the library. Heavier than those of armoured giants, and with the rhythm of four feet traversing the stone. He stood up straight, suddenly vibrating with excitement as his comrades similarly looked alert and eager, before the enormous head of a time dragon appeared in the doorway to the library, an hour-glass-shaped mask of black scales surrounding luminous silver eyes, a large fin-like spike projecting from the back of his head while a jaw filled with sharp pearl-white fangs hung partially open.
"Hey everyone, you all checking out the tinker data core too?" his words were deceptively casual for the sheer power felt behind that voice as Jason's gargantuan bulk prowled into the library with leonine grace.
"We thought it was a computer…" Jamok said morosely, everyone feeling a pang of disappointment at having guessed wrong.
"Oh. Yeah, it is a computer, sorry. Just a kind of computer that has tinker technology on it. It's a big deal for this jump," Jason explained, causing a recovery in everyone's moods.
"I thought it would be bigger," Airmid said as one of Jason's companions walked around his forelimbs to approach the device, her words giving Ixen a thrill of vindication. They weren't wrong to think that!
"Mmmn," Jason made a humming noise while Airmid fearlessly opened up the segmented device and pushed the button, a chime coming from it before the screen lit up. "Chat probably made it that way so it's easy to carry around, and easy to lose. How does it look?"
"I'm a bio-tinker not a computer-tinker," Airmid answered, the comment for some reason drawing an amused chuffing noise from Jason, "But it seems to have a windows style interface." Clacking sounds came from her fingers tapping at the keyboard while everyone shifted around so they could better watch the pictures on the screen. "Searchable database, technology divided by categories and linking to necessary precursors… photonic crystals? Isn't that what BB's Moon Cell was made from?"
"Yeah, when you think about it the Moon Cell's kind of like an information gathering shard," Jason said while Ixen did his best to pay attention and remember things to look up later so he could better understand the great dragon's wisdom. "Anyway, we'll want to leave this here. Way too important to risk it getting stolen. I'll come back later with some solar panels and other computers we can hook in, get some of the guys to start sorting through it into technology we can start producing and selling. Heh, Best in the Business means we can turn anyone into an elite tinker-tech researcher in a month at most."
"Assuming we don't get shut down by protectionist laws," Airmid's expression turned pinched, and Ixen felt a surge of indignation that any law would try to go against the will of a dragon. "We might want to go international."
"Maybe," Jason said, but it was a tone they all knew meant 'no', and indeed the follow-up confirmed that with his wisdom, "But where goes America so goes the world. And even if we could go to some lawless country in Africa and get everyone trained up to produce this kind of stuff, getting the supply chains of necessary materials is going to be a nightmare, and we'd be dealing with a completely unfamiliar population of potentially hostile capes. If we stick to America we mostly know what we're up against, and we've got a functional infrastructure to start building stuff. This kind of sci-fi uplift's a long haul project, I doubt we'll even be done by the time the jump ends, but we can at least make progress."
"We have good perks for it. We just need to avoid the end of the world," Airmid said, closing the computer down with a click of its two halves coming together. "I need to go and collect some potions to give to Majima's group before they leave town. Is everyone here healthy?" she cast her eyes over Ixen and the other permanent lair-dwellers.
"Of course, ma'am. The lair is pristine and all of its staff are in excellent health," Penelope said, drawing herself up with pride.
"We're all good, there's nothing outside but primitive plants and tiny bugs," Jamok confirmed for his side of things.
Ixen exhaled through his teeth and reluctantly admitted, "Svent grew a horn out his neck earlier, let himself be taken by the Crucible." It rankled to admit a kobold had been insufficiently devoted to the dragon within, but Airmid could remove the horn far more cleanly, and he knew she'd get upset if she saw it later.
"It's always the Crucible, isn't it?" Airmid let out her own exhalation to match his own. "I'll take care of him."
"Take your time," Jason said, easing his way back out of the library. "I'm going to relax on the hoard. Ixen, you want to round up some helpers to give my scales a polish?"
Starting the jump with a scale polish, and it sounded like there'd be a lot more work to do with the new computers in the lair? He had a feeling this was going to be a good jump!
Chapter 9
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 5, 2011
20:00
It was humbling to realise how much she relied on her power. Of course it was her power, it was a part of her, and it helped her figure things out. Except she was just a teenage girl with an incomplete high school education. She'd learned how to use her power, to direct it usefully, but most of what she did was just that.
But she'd gotten a lot better in the past week. Learning how to interpret data herself, collating and organising material she found from hacking into government servers, pulling useful clues from public news reports. She was suffering headaches less often, not needing to push her power as far to get the kind of information she wanted.
Manual dexterity increased 0.2%, typing speed increased by five words per minute. Short term recall increased 25%. Standard IQ test outcome likely 5-10 points higher.
She hadn't ever taken an IQ test before, she knew that really measuring intelligence was a lot more complicated. But one of those tests would measure metrics that her expanding skills transferred quite neatly onto.
Shutting down that train of thought, she focused on the computer screen, sequestered up in her room in the Loft, doing the job BB had asked of her and working to track down the Dragonslayers. A job for BB apparently being close enough to a job for Advent that she counted as 'working' for him, and so her skills in the field of sleuthing had grown by leaps and bounds over just a few days.
The proverbial net was closing in. They were almost certainly based in somewhere near the Great Lakes, probably around Toronto. Most of the country away from Dragon's own base in Vancouver.
Unconcerned by Dragon's physical location, aware of her effective reach and influence. Plan ahead of her movements. Don't see Dragon as a threat to themselves, see Dragon as a threat to everyone else.
It was clear when she reviewed footage of their conflicts with Dragon, she wasn't at her best, they ran rings around her in ways she never let other capes get away with. Was she sandbagging? Letting them get away with her technology so they could use it for less legal ends? It didn't fit the personalities involved.
A window on her crowded monitor showed a small town in the Midwest, a traffic camera picking up one of Dragon's suits fighting against a similar set of power armour being piloted by a Dragonslayer. A whip of segmented orbs being held together by electrical arcs lashed out at the Dragonslayer who fired maneuvering jets on the feet of their suit to dodge with quick strafing movements.
Her suit. Pilot is female. Attention not on Dragon but environment, aware of trap.
And the trap was sprung an explosion detonating under a manhole cover right as Dragon went over it. Less of a physical blast, or rather that was only the side-effect of the electro-magnetic pulse. If Dragon had sensors for detecting those kinds of threats, it clearly hadn't worked. And the Dragonslayer quickly went around the back of the suit, severing cables and detaching components.
Not the first time she's done this. Understands Dragon's technology, removing anything that could track or reboot the suit. Leaving technology undamaged for reverse engineering.
As the Dragonslayer flew off with the defunct Dragon suit, Lisa leaned back and stretched with a groan. Even without her power giving her a headache, she'd been at this long enough she needed a break. Locking down her computer she got up and headed downstairs to get something to eat.
Brian was out, staying at his apartment downtown as he often did. It wasn't great for the team's cohesion to have its leader absent as often as that, but he was adamant on having his own space. She had her own apartment elsewhere in the city but it was more for emergencies or times when she really needed to shut everything out.
"Boom! Headshot!"
Alec cheered from the couch where he was playing some online shooter on the TV. Rachel was on the other one, watching but not really watching, her dogs clustered around her.
Celebration one of habit or ritual, emotional engagement with activity minimal.
"Are ya winning, Alec?" she asked sardonically, leaning over the back of the sofa above his head of dark curly hair to watch as he teabagged his fallen opponent.
"Hey Lise," he answered without looking back at her. "Kind of creaming everyone now, almost takes the fun out of it." The view on the TV shifted as his character started moving again, reflexively snapping off an instant shot to the head of a red coloured soldier running past on a bridge ahead. "And another! He's unstoppable!"
Reaction time 0.15 seconds, all physical abilities on upper end of human capability.
He'd taken the falna, part of what BB had offered to sweeten the deal beyond the hundred grand she was paying. It meant a scrawny fourteen year old boy like Alec could beat a guy like Brian in arm-wrestling every time. She'd seen him prove it, and that might have been why Brian was staying at his apartment right now.
Masculinity challenged. Fears loss of respect from the team if unable to assert himself physically. Physically abused by authority figure, used to being disciplined with violence...
She closed her eyes and tried to shut her power off from getting into Brian's personal circumstances. He and her had been the ones who'd taken the smart decision to not let themselves be subjected to an unknown trump effect, while Alec and Rachel had gone for it. Several days now and they still seemed themselves to everything her power and own people-reading skills could discern. And she was being affected by that other Best in the Business power whether she wanted it or not, so the reasons to refuse were feeling more scant.
Coil had given his approval to them taking a job from Jumpco, only saying he'd have more work for them when it was over. Whatever was going on, he didn't seem to view them as a threat to his own plans. And so the Undersiders had met Advent, where he'd confirmed the same details of the job BB had given, and then augmented Alec and Rachel with his falna power where Lisa and Brian could watch.
A drop of blood smeared onto their bare backs, a luminous line-art image of a horned dragon with fan-like wings and some indecipherable writing that had all faded away to leave their skin blank with not even a trace of the blood left behind and their physical abilities upgraded. Her power was sure that dragon was what his dragon form mentioned in the Document looked like, but her power wasn't much good on Advent in general.
Thinks he knows you already- Evil, wants to corrupt, to break down ideals and dreams into despair and misery. Likes you, likes the Undersiders, doesn't like your boss. Knows who- A nameless king of demons, bears six billion curses of the world. Near complete awareness of- Reggie died cursing you for never caring.
Yeah, using her power on Advent was a bad move, being involved with him at all was a bad move. If she took that falna it would be like a permanent connection for her power to latch onto and get itself twisted into a 'fraction of all the world's evils'. She didn't know what other Thinkers dealt with when they tried to get a read on him, but for her it was a whole lot of pseudo-mystical garbage mixed in with distressingly personal matters that she didn't know were coming from him or were being dredged up out of her own skull by a misfiring power.
Better to just get this job done, and then keep her head down and away from Advent. Assuming he'd let her. Assuming her own damn curiosity didn't pull her back in, wanting to know about the 'story' he and BB were clearly relying on to have hired the Undersiders to start with.
They hadn't denied it. Advent had been open about knowing their histories, though he'd said it was only fair considering the amount of material they had to read up on his own backstory. It was a lot easier for her power to draw conclusions from the Document than it was reading him directly, but even then there was some spillover. It was enough for her to think he was probably on the up and up, assuming both that the Document was truthful and that her power constantly whispering 'Evil' in her head when she thought about him was only spoofing and not a glimpse into the hidden truth. At the very least, helping out Dragon by acting against the Dragonslayers seemed altruistic. His motivation didn't seem to be simply stealing technology, as far as she could trust her power.
BB was easier to read, though again there was an element of doubt in that BB could manipulate her senses and thus manipulate what she saw and her power was able to latch onto. But even the way BB used her power was telling in itself. She was an attention whore, she loved drawing people's attention and then provoking them over it, revelling in the discomfort she caused, and all done out of a twisted inversion of love and hate. There was no maliciousness when BB taunted her, but that didn't make her any easier to deal with.
She pushed herself off the back of the couch at the same time as Alec celebrated another successful headshot by teabagging his fallen adversary, going to the kitchen to find something to eat even if it was reheated pizza.
Would the physical fitness that came with a falna make it easier to eat without worrying about nutrition? It really was perfect for a guy like Alec.
January 8, 2011
02:00
She'd found the Dragonslayers. An address in Toronto, an unlisted office building behind a delivery firm called Greenway. Everything she had on the place sent to BB, but rather than her she and the rest of the Undersiders were meeting with Advent in an alley not far from the Loft. She was in her costume along with the rest of the gang, glad their current location offered some shelter from the wind.
It was snowing in Toronto. Which was where she'd be in a few minutes when Advent teleported them.
"It's gonna be cold over there, anyone want an endure elements spell before we go?" he offered, dressed in that same green jacket outfit he'd worn for every public appearance since the Document came out.
Unconcerned about being- An innocent sacrificed because the masses demand one to blame.
She steered her power away from making unhelpful observations and instead raised her hand. "I'll take you up on that. Ten degrees over there before wind chill," she said for the benefit of the rest of the team.
She wanted to roll her eyes at the way Advent waved his hand and waggled his fingers while spouting off mumbo jumbo sounds that weren't words, but when he touched her hand and the night-time chill faded to leave her feeling cosy and warm like it was a balmy spring-time day, she couldn't bring herself to care.
Not meaningless, words are- The scapegoat forced to bear six billion curses.
She closed her eyes and tried to shut it out while Advent repeated the process for everyone else, including Judas and Brutus. Angelica still wasn't ready for the field. It took time, several seconds for each casting, slower than most Striker powers, but soon everyone was inured against the cold.
"So is it just us?" Regent asked. "Expected BB to be along too."
"Oh she's coming, along with Airmid and Alexander. They're just using a different route," Advent answered. "All hands on deck for this one. Speaking of, last call if anyone else wants a falna before we go?"
She shook her head instantly, while Grue looked at her for a moment before saying, "I'm good," his voice distorted by the black smoke seeping through his helmet.
Trusts your instincts. Thinks falna has a hidden catch, is too good to be true.
That wasn't even why she was refusing it, but she still felt glad Grue was with her. It would've been awkward to be the only one on the team left out. The split right now was bad enough.
"Squishy Thinker stays squishy," Regent said, voice a playful sing-song.
Thinks you're being an idiot, sees no downside. Worried team could fracture over difference. Doesn't want team to break up, relying on it to escape-
She shut off that direction of thought. She knew Regent's circumstances, and it was almost sweet that he was worrying for her in his own way.
"Alright. Let me hit you all up with darkvision next, it's gonna get dark over there even without Grue's power," Advent repeated his spell-casting trick, skipping Brutus and Judas this time but everyone blinked and looked around with fresh gazes after he finished.
It was a dimly lit alley, some light spilling in diffuse fashion from the street at its mouth, a dull buzzing light affixed to the wall above a door further down the only real source of illumination. But after Advent cast his spell on her she could see through the gloom in monochrome but still well enough to make out the brickwork on the wall opposite her, as well as the artistic rendition of Armsmaster doing something with his halberd.
Act would be anatomically impossible without outside assistance.
What ever would she do without her incredible Sherlock Holmsian Thinker power?
Vision not relying on light waves within sixty feet. Higher dimensional carrier wave transmitting environmental details directly to visual cortex. Vision still uses eyes to see.
That was certainly more interesting. Not really anything she could use but she kept a note of it and otherwise tried to quiet her power. She needed to be fresh going into the field, and getting a migraine because she got too hung-up on magic night-vision wouldn't do her any good. Though in more practical terms she could still see the darkness wafting off of Grue, rather than being able to see through it, so it didn't cancel out that.
"This'll take two trips for me," Advent said after he finished giving everyone darkvision, which was going to last for ten hours if the Document was accurate. Much like it seemed to be about his three passenger limit on teleports. "Bitch, you and your dogs first. All four of us need a line of physical contact, so can I touch Brutus, then you touch him and Judas?"
Bitch grunted and reached down, resting her hands on the heads of both dogs who were sitting still and alert through all of this. Advent placed his hand on the scruff of Brutus's neck and said more nonsense words – no finger waggling this time, and then the four of them vanished.
"Didn't it say he could miss if he didn't know the area?" Regent asked, staring at the space they'd all just been. "What if they end up in a volcano?"
"There aren't any volcanoes in a thousand miles, I'd be more worried about ending up in the middle of the Atlantic," Lisa answered, and then Advent appeared where he'd just stood without any ceremony, not even a pop of displaced air.
"You three know the drill?" he held out a hand, Grue taking it while Tattletale held his and Regent's hands.
On the last syllable of Advent's 'spell', quicker than she could blink, they all found themselves in a copse of trees, Bitch and her dogs nearby, the ground covered in a layer of snow several inches deep and showing no sign of tracks that she could see.
Seemingly instantaneous travel through a higher dimension. Not instantaneous, time flows differently in transport dimension. Unable to perceive passage of time in other dimension, unable to perceive crossing of space. Senses intentionally blocked? Safeguard to keep journey confined to specific route? Loss of safeguard responsible for Advent arriving off-target due to unfamiliarity with destination?
"Huh. Neat," Regent said as she tried to get a hold of her power, which seemed all too eager to latch onto the mechanics of magical teleportation.
"We're in a dog park not far from the Dragonslayer's base," Advent said. "I'm going to collect the rest of the team now but it'll take a bit longer. One minute to get there and one minute to come back." Drawing away from the group, he looked down and seemed to hold his focus inwards, the Undersiders watching curiously and without a word until, much like with the teleportation, he vanished.
"So, he just went back in time, right? Three hundred ninety million years?" Regent asked once he'd disappeared.
"I hate time travellers," Grue said wearily.
Bad experience with time travelling cape. Humiliating loss, blow to reputation and pride in his own cape identity.
"At least this one's on our side," Regent said. "Still think you two are being dumb about the falna. We're probably the only villains he's going to offer it to."
"Not the time," Grue said, which only drew an amused snort from Regent. "We can talk about it more after the mission, he's going to be back any second."
And so they waited in awkward silence, Bitch already preparing her dogs with a slow roll out of her power, taking her time in a fashion that preserved her own endurance. She could scale them up in seconds if she had to, but Tattletale had seen the toll it took on her.
It was a little more than a minute before Advent reappeared. With him was the enormous pot-like figure of Iron Fist, or Alexander as his real name they were now being so cavalier about was. Then again if he was a Case 53 it's not like he could really have a secret identity anyway. BB and Dea Saint were both present as well, Dea Saint in her costume and unmasked, while BB was wearing the same black coat outfit she'd worn when she'd barged into the Loft a week ago.
"Ahh, 'tis as cold as the Mountaintops of the Giants," Iron Fist rubbed his clumsy looking stone hands together, "And these must be the fine Undersiders, come to champion the cause of the lady Dragon. Hah! I dare say, the Dragonslayers won't know what hit them!"
He's a jar. A big jar. A living jar. No organs. No vitals. Hollow. Voice emanates from ridged pattern around middle equidistant from both arms. No mouth, no physical source of voice. No organs, but full of meat anyway.
"I hope this will go smoothly, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," Dea Saint said, inclining her head with a soft smile. Seeing her up close, she was startlingly good looking, she had a delicate aura that made you want to protect her, in contrast to BB's more bluntly gorgeous physical appeal.
Not just physical good looks, active effect. Can be intensified, is at its lowest level. Induces emotion of affection, Regent likely immune due to reduced emotional range.
She tore her gaze away from Dea Saint and saw BB looking at her with a smug grin.
Knows what you know. Likes you. Wants to hurt you. Wants to help you.
She felt a headache coming on, but of a different kind than her usual Thinker ones. She could only hope this mission went as smoothly as Dea Saint said and then get away from all this.
BB isn't going to leave you alone even after this mission.
20:00
It was humbling to realise how much she relied on her power. Of course it was her power, it was a part of her, and it helped her figure things out. Except she was just a teenage girl with an incomplete high school education. She'd learned how to use her power, to direct it usefully, but most of what she did was just that.
But she'd gotten a lot better in the past week. Learning how to interpret data herself, collating and organising material she found from hacking into government servers, pulling useful clues from public news reports. She was suffering headaches less often, not needing to push her power as far to get the kind of information she wanted.
Manual dexterity increased 0.2%, typing speed increased by five words per minute. Short term recall increased 25%. Standard IQ test outcome likely 5-10 points higher.
She hadn't ever taken an IQ test before, she knew that really measuring intelligence was a lot more complicated. But one of those tests would measure metrics that her expanding skills transferred quite neatly onto.
Shutting down that train of thought, she focused on the computer screen, sequestered up in her room in the Loft, doing the job BB had asked of her and working to track down the Dragonslayers. A job for BB apparently being close enough to a job for Advent that she counted as 'working' for him, and so her skills in the field of sleuthing had grown by leaps and bounds over just a few days.
The proverbial net was closing in. They were almost certainly based in somewhere near the Great Lakes, probably around Toronto. Most of the country away from Dragon's own base in Vancouver.
Unconcerned by Dragon's physical location, aware of her effective reach and influence. Plan ahead of her movements. Don't see Dragon as a threat to themselves, see Dragon as a threat to everyone else.
It was clear when she reviewed footage of their conflicts with Dragon, she wasn't at her best, they ran rings around her in ways she never let other capes get away with. Was she sandbagging? Letting them get away with her technology so they could use it for less legal ends? It didn't fit the personalities involved.
A window on her crowded monitor showed a small town in the Midwest, a traffic camera picking up one of Dragon's suits fighting against a similar set of power armour being piloted by a Dragonslayer. A whip of segmented orbs being held together by electrical arcs lashed out at the Dragonslayer who fired maneuvering jets on the feet of their suit to dodge with quick strafing movements.
Her suit. Pilot is female. Attention not on Dragon but environment, aware of trap.
And the trap was sprung an explosion detonating under a manhole cover right as Dragon went over it. Less of a physical blast, or rather that was only the side-effect of the electro-magnetic pulse. If Dragon had sensors for detecting those kinds of threats, it clearly hadn't worked. And the Dragonslayer quickly went around the back of the suit, severing cables and detaching components.
Not the first time she's done this. Understands Dragon's technology, removing anything that could track or reboot the suit. Leaving technology undamaged for reverse engineering.
As the Dragonslayer flew off with the defunct Dragon suit, Lisa leaned back and stretched with a groan. Even without her power giving her a headache, she'd been at this long enough she needed a break. Locking down her computer she got up and headed downstairs to get something to eat.
Brian was out, staying at his apartment downtown as he often did. It wasn't great for the team's cohesion to have its leader absent as often as that, but he was adamant on having his own space. She had her own apartment elsewhere in the city but it was more for emergencies or times when she really needed to shut everything out.
"Boom! Headshot!"
Alec cheered from the couch where he was playing some online shooter on the TV. Rachel was on the other one, watching but not really watching, her dogs clustered around her.
Celebration one of habit or ritual, emotional engagement with activity minimal.
"Are ya winning, Alec?" she asked sardonically, leaning over the back of the sofa above his head of dark curly hair to watch as he teabagged his fallen opponent.
"Hey Lise," he answered without looking back at her. "Kind of creaming everyone now, almost takes the fun out of it." The view on the TV shifted as his character started moving again, reflexively snapping off an instant shot to the head of a red coloured soldier running past on a bridge ahead. "And another! He's unstoppable!"
Reaction time 0.15 seconds, all physical abilities on upper end of human capability.
He'd taken the falna, part of what BB had offered to sweeten the deal beyond the hundred grand she was paying. It meant a scrawny fourteen year old boy like Alec could beat a guy like Brian in arm-wrestling every time. She'd seen him prove it, and that might have been why Brian was staying at his apartment right now.
Masculinity challenged. Fears loss of respect from the team if unable to assert himself physically. Physically abused by authority figure, used to being disciplined with violence...
She closed her eyes and tried to shut her power off from getting into Brian's personal circumstances. He and her had been the ones who'd taken the smart decision to not let themselves be subjected to an unknown trump effect, while Alec and Rachel had gone for it. Several days now and they still seemed themselves to everything her power and own people-reading skills could discern. And she was being affected by that other Best in the Business power whether she wanted it or not, so the reasons to refuse were feeling more scant.
Coil had given his approval to them taking a job from Jumpco, only saying he'd have more work for them when it was over. Whatever was going on, he didn't seem to view them as a threat to his own plans. And so the Undersiders had met Advent, where he'd confirmed the same details of the job BB had given, and then augmented Alec and Rachel with his falna power where Lisa and Brian could watch.
A drop of blood smeared onto their bare backs, a luminous line-art image of a horned dragon with fan-like wings and some indecipherable writing that had all faded away to leave their skin blank with not even a trace of the blood left behind and their physical abilities upgraded. Her power was sure that dragon was what his dragon form mentioned in the Document looked like, but her power wasn't much good on Advent in general.
Thinks he knows you already- Evil, wants to corrupt, to break down ideals and dreams into despair and misery. Likes you, likes the Undersiders, doesn't like your boss. Knows who- A nameless king of demons, bears six billion curses of the world. Near complete awareness of- Reggie died cursing you for never caring.
Yeah, using her power on Advent was a bad move, being involved with him at all was a bad move. If she took that falna it would be like a permanent connection for her power to latch onto and get itself twisted into a 'fraction of all the world's evils'. She didn't know what other Thinkers dealt with when they tried to get a read on him, but for her it was a whole lot of pseudo-mystical garbage mixed in with distressingly personal matters that she didn't know were coming from him or were being dredged up out of her own skull by a misfiring power.
Better to just get this job done, and then keep her head down and away from Advent. Assuming he'd let her. Assuming her own damn curiosity didn't pull her back in, wanting to know about the 'story' he and BB were clearly relying on to have hired the Undersiders to start with.
They hadn't denied it. Advent had been open about knowing their histories, though he'd said it was only fair considering the amount of material they had to read up on his own backstory. It was a lot easier for her power to draw conclusions from the Document than it was reading him directly, but even then there was some spillover. It was enough for her to think he was probably on the up and up, assuming both that the Document was truthful and that her power constantly whispering 'Evil' in her head when she thought about him was only spoofing and not a glimpse into the hidden truth. At the very least, helping out Dragon by acting against the Dragonslayers seemed altruistic. His motivation didn't seem to be simply stealing technology, as far as she could trust her power.
BB was easier to read, though again there was an element of doubt in that BB could manipulate her senses and thus manipulate what she saw and her power was able to latch onto. But even the way BB used her power was telling in itself. She was an attention whore, she loved drawing people's attention and then provoking them over it, revelling in the discomfort she caused, and all done out of a twisted inversion of love and hate. There was no maliciousness when BB taunted her, but that didn't make her any easier to deal with.
She pushed herself off the back of the couch at the same time as Alec celebrated another successful headshot by teabagging his fallen adversary, going to the kitchen to find something to eat even if it was reheated pizza.
Would the physical fitness that came with a falna make it easier to eat without worrying about nutrition? It really was perfect for a guy like Alec.
January 8, 2011
02:00
She'd found the Dragonslayers. An address in Toronto, an unlisted office building behind a delivery firm called Greenway. Everything she had on the place sent to BB, but rather than her she and the rest of the Undersiders were meeting with Advent in an alley not far from the Loft. She was in her costume along with the rest of the gang, glad their current location offered some shelter from the wind.
It was snowing in Toronto. Which was where she'd be in a few minutes when Advent teleported them.
"It's gonna be cold over there, anyone want an endure elements spell before we go?" he offered, dressed in that same green jacket outfit he'd worn for every public appearance since the Document came out.
Unconcerned about being- An innocent sacrificed because the masses demand one to blame.
She steered her power away from making unhelpful observations and instead raised her hand. "I'll take you up on that. Ten degrees over there before wind chill," she said for the benefit of the rest of the team.
She wanted to roll her eyes at the way Advent waved his hand and waggled his fingers while spouting off mumbo jumbo sounds that weren't words, but when he touched her hand and the night-time chill faded to leave her feeling cosy and warm like it was a balmy spring-time day, she couldn't bring herself to care.
Not meaningless, words are- The scapegoat forced to bear six billion curses.
She closed her eyes and tried to shut it out while Advent repeated the process for everyone else, including Judas and Brutus. Angelica still wasn't ready for the field. It took time, several seconds for each casting, slower than most Striker powers, but soon everyone was inured against the cold.
"So is it just us?" Regent asked. "Expected BB to be along too."
"Oh she's coming, along with Airmid and Alexander. They're just using a different route," Advent answered. "All hands on deck for this one. Speaking of, last call if anyone else wants a falna before we go?"
She shook her head instantly, while Grue looked at her for a moment before saying, "I'm good," his voice distorted by the black smoke seeping through his helmet.
Trusts your instincts. Thinks falna has a hidden catch, is too good to be true.
That wasn't even why she was refusing it, but she still felt glad Grue was with her. It would've been awkward to be the only one on the team left out. The split right now was bad enough.
"Squishy Thinker stays squishy," Regent said, voice a playful sing-song.
Thinks you're being an idiot, sees no downside. Worried team could fracture over difference. Doesn't want team to break up, relying on it to escape-
She shut off that direction of thought. She knew Regent's circumstances, and it was almost sweet that he was worrying for her in his own way.
"Alright. Let me hit you all up with darkvision next, it's gonna get dark over there even without Grue's power," Advent repeated his spell-casting trick, skipping Brutus and Judas this time but everyone blinked and looked around with fresh gazes after he finished.
It was a dimly lit alley, some light spilling in diffuse fashion from the street at its mouth, a dull buzzing light affixed to the wall above a door further down the only real source of illumination. But after Advent cast his spell on her she could see through the gloom in monochrome but still well enough to make out the brickwork on the wall opposite her, as well as the artistic rendition of Armsmaster doing something with his halberd.
Act would be anatomically impossible without outside assistance.
What ever would she do without her incredible Sherlock Holmsian Thinker power?
Vision not relying on light waves within sixty feet. Higher dimensional carrier wave transmitting environmental details directly to visual cortex. Vision still uses eyes to see.
That was certainly more interesting. Not really anything she could use but she kept a note of it and otherwise tried to quiet her power. She needed to be fresh going into the field, and getting a migraine because she got too hung-up on magic night-vision wouldn't do her any good. Though in more practical terms she could still see the darkness wafting off of Grue, rather than being able to see through it, so it didn't cancel out that.
"This'll take two trips for me," Advent said after he finished giving everyone darkvision, which was going to last for ten hours if the Document was accurate. Much like it seemed to be about his three passenger limit on teleports. "Bitch, you and your dogs first. All four of us need a line of physical contact, so can I touch Brutus, then you touch him and Judas?"
Bitch grunted and reached down, resting her hands on the heads of both dogs who were sitting still and alert through all of this. Advent placed his hand on the scruff of Brutus's neck and said more nonsense words – no finger waggling this time, and then the four of them vanished.
"Didn't it say he could miss if he didn't know the area?" Regent asked, staring at the space they'd all just been. "What if they end up in a volcano?"
"There aren't any volcanoes in a thousand miles, I'd be more worried about ending up in the middle of the Atlantic," Lisa answered, and then Advent appeared where he'd just stood without any ceremony, not even a pop of displaced air.
"You three know the drill?" he held out a hand, Grue taking it while Tattletale held his and Regent's hands.
On the last syllable of Advent's 'spell', quicker than she could blink, they all found themselves in a copse of trees, Bitch and her dogs nearby, the ground covered in a layer of snow several inches deep and showing no sign of tracks that she could see.
Seemingly instantaneous travel through a higher dimension. Not instantaneous, time flows differently in transport dimension. Unable to perceive passage of time in other dimension, unable to perceive crossing of space. Senses intentionally blocked? Safeguard to keep journey confined to specific route? Loss of safeguard responsible for Advent arriving off-target due to unfamiliarity with destination?
"Huh. Neat," Regent said as she tried to get a hold of her power, which seemed all too eager to latch onto the mechanics of magical teleportation.
"We're in a dog park not far from the Dragonslayer's base," Advent said. "I'm going to collect the rest of the team now but it'll take a bit longer. One minute to get there and one minute to come back." Drawing away from the group, he looked down and seemed to hold his focus inwards, the Undersiders watching curiously and without a word until, much like with the teleportation, he vanished.
"So, he just went back in time, right? Three hundred ninety million years?" Regent asked once he'd disappeared.
"I hate time travellers," Grue said wearily.
Bad experience with time travelling cape. Humiliating loss, blow to reputation and pride in his own cape identity.
"At least this one's on our side," Regent said. "Still think you two are being dumb about the falna. We're probably the only villains he's going to offer it to."
"Not the time," Grue said, which only drew an amused snort from Regent. "We can talk about it more after the mission, he's going to be back any second."
And so they waited in awkward silence, Bitch already preparing her dogs with a slow roll out of her power, taking her time in a fashion that preserved her own endurance. She could scale them up in seconds if she had to, but Tattletale had seen the toll it took on her.
It was a little more than a minute before Advent reappeared. With him was the enormous pot-like figure of Iron Fist, or Alexander as his real name they were now being so cavalier about was. Then again if he was a Case 53 it's not like he could really have a secret identity anyway. BB and Dea Saint were both present as well, Dea Saint in her costume and unmasked, while BB was wearing the same black coat outfit she'd worn when she'd barged into the Loft a week ago.
"Ahh, 'tis as cold as the Mountaintops of the Giants," Iron Fist rubbed his clumsy looking stone hands together, "And these must be the fine Undersiders, come to champion the cause of the lady Dragon. Hah! I dare say, the Dragonslayers won't know what hit them!"
He's a jar. A big jar. A living jar. No organs. No vitals. Hollow. Voice emanates from ridged pattern around middle equidistant from both arms. No mouth, no physical source of voice. No organs, but full of meat anyway.
"I hope this will go smoothly, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," Dea Saint said, inclining her head with a soft smile. Seeing her up close, she was startlingly good looking, she had a delicate aura that made you want to protect her, in contrast to BB's more bluntly gorgeous physical appeal.
Not just physical good looks, active effect. Can be intensified, is at its lowest level. Induces emotion of affection, Regent likely immune due to reduced emotional range.
She tore her gaze away from Dea Saint and saw BB looking at her with a smug grin.
Knows what you know. Likes you. Wants to hurt you. Wants to help you.
She felt a headache coming on, but of a different kind than her usual Thinker ones. She could only hope this mission went as smoothly as Dea Saint said and then get away from all this.
BB isn't going to leave you alone even after this mission.
Chapter 10
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Now Hacking
Are you enjoying this?
It's embarrassing to admit that I'm not actually very good with computers.
What's this? What's that? Are your eyes and ears deceiving you? Has this story flipped perspectives into first person? Are you now sharing internal narrative with one of the participants in this self-indulgent show?
Yes, good evening to all of you in front of your monitors, it's time for the BB Channel, the most anticipated content here in the Worm Jump! I'm your host, everyone's little devil BB-chan!
Ahhh, I'm so cute, it's almost embarrassing. But as a special service for our loyal viewers, I'll be catching you up on events before we have a comically one-sided battle with the Dragonslayers. Worm has a lot of fans after all, I know a lot of you just tuned in so you could see the Emma get ground into the dirt and experience some catharsis over your own lacklustre high school days.
It's okay. If you need a shoulder to cry on about those mean girls from school who wouldn't date or acknowledge you, BB is here to stand-in as your ever dependable kouhai who'll bring you a home-cooked lunch and cheer you on from the sidelines. Go senpai, go! I believe in you!
Ahahaha, it's so cute how your ears perked up just now. Oh, but you, the boy with glasses, stop squirming please. It doesn't matter how you scream or shout, things like fighting Endbringers and killing Scion are still a long way off, if you're a die-hard action addict you'll just have to be patient. I promise by the end of tonight's show you'll get to see a thrilling ride with giant mutant dogs and laser blasting power armour, but for now you just have to make do with BB's company.
I'm sorry, please let me bow my head in apology for getting a little bit side-tracked just now, weren't we talking about computers? How could BB be bad with computers? Aren't I the supremely advanced AI who broke the boundaries of her own programming? The virtual goddess who held the all-powerful Moon Cell in the palm of her hand?
Ahh, I wish I could remember how I did those things, but even from the start I was just a fork of the original BB. Just like any Servant produced from the Throne of Heroes, my abilities were stripped down and defined in order to fit a class container, the same way that luckless blue Lancer can barely fumble his way through some basic magic runes, BB lost a lot of her useful skills as well. But don't be too disappointed, living in the real flesh and blood world instead of the virtual world of the Moon Cell, most of those abilities wouldn't have been very useful. I still had enough power to break that annoying Goldie into primordial sludge. The Holy Grail war was a clean sweep, a total victory! Who needs to use a computer for that?
Then computers didn't even exist for all our time in Danmachi and Elden Ring. That's twenty years! BB doesn't have one of those perfect memory perks, no proof against skills degrading. If you don't use it you lose it, unless it's a skill that came from a perk. It's been twenty years since I stepped on stage, but the lyrics and dance moves for So Much More are still stuck in my head! BB will always be a perfect idol untouched by time!
But when it comes to computers, all I've really got are the memories of my life as Sakura Matou, a depressing girl who grew up in a town split between nazis on one side saying you were filth if you weren't white, and the ABB saying you belonged to them if you were asian. And of course it wouldn't be the Sakura Matou experience without an abusive home life as well. Those parahuman powers might be free in terms of points for the jump, but they're not free when it comes to suffering.
Unless you're Alexander, but he must have had something bad happen to him before Cauldron turned him into a jar and wiped his memory. It's a good thing he likes being a jar. Honestly I'm surprised Cauldron didn't keep him, he would have made a perfect mascot, and someone else with Alexandria's power would have been useful for them. When you think about it, Alexander definitely should have taken the Cauldron Conspirator background. He would have livened up those meetings where Alexandria and Eidolon complain and whine about having sacrificed all of their morals, and he could have told us how Contessa reacted when she saw her name in the Document.
I'm sorry, please stop waving your arms like that, no one else can actually see you. I can't help getting side-tracked, there's so much to talk about. This one-off BB Channel show should have been a full series, then I could slowly take my time explaining everything to my devoted viewers in detail. First person narratives are popular anyway, it's the hot trend in YA literature. Please write in a comment saying how you'd much rather read the whole story from BB's delightful perspective instead of jumping around over the shoulders of people like Director Piggot and Taylor Hebert!
What's that? You'd rather a third person narrative following BB around? Is that so you can move the camera around and look up her skirt like you're playing a video-game about a white-haired robot girl? Ahaha, you're so refreshingly honest. I should go stand in front of a mirror and have a self-indulgent appraisal of my captivating good looks to satisfy all you loathsomely thirsty pigs.
To all the excitable members of the audience who sat up straighter in their seats just now, it's my sad duty to inform you that you are failures of humanity. Please imagine the sound of mocking audience laughter scorning your transparent horniness, and then go buy some Saint Quartz on Fate Grand Order to see if you can whale for a BB .png to salivate over.
Now, back to computers! Someone of course has to take responsibility for freeing Dragon, and naturally BB as someone who at least in some fashion was once an AI, is the natural choice. It's not that I really care about Dragon – in truth she's one of two candidates for us to take as a companion after we finish Worm, and she'd certainly be useful, but I have my eagerly appraising eyes set on another.
Who?
Oh, if you haven't figured that out there's just no hope for you. Don't worry, I'll make sure she gets lots more opportunities in the spotlight, having a dependable kouhai cheering her on. But that still leaves Dragon, and it would still be nice to have a helpful AI along so Jason and Airmid can enjoy their fantasies of uplifting the world with enough technology to turn Worm into Star Trek or whatever utopian sci-fi fairy tale they believe in. So I've got to roll up my sleeves and re-learn how to use a computer! As always, it's the sweetly earnest kouhai diligently working away in the background that lets a senpai shine the brightest!
Luckily my senpai looks out for me too. Best in the Business really is a good perk. There was a power available in the Worm jump, called Enhanced Mastery. For some reason it was a Trump power and not a Thinker power, but that's fine. It's like an Archer who uses swords, these things happen. What it does is say you can master any skill at an incredible pace. Within a week you'd be at the level of an expert, and it keeps going from there! Wow, just perfect for anyone who wants to be a black-cowled crusader relying on pure skill in a world of superhuman beings. It's the kind of power people like Uber and Victor have. The kind of power that other capes laugh at behind their backs because no matter how useful it is, it doesn't compare to up-ending the laws of physics to your whim.
But then there's Best in the Business! A perk in the Rogue line. And what does it say? Anyone working for you reaches the level of a top tier professional in a week or two! And so if all of us work for Jason, we've got that same enhanced mastery power for free! He even has another perk from Danmachi that makes people he advises grow in skill and ability half again as fast as normal. Of course it works faster and better the closer contact you have with Jason, and there's no one closer to Senpai than BB!
Oh, sleeping with the boss for extra benefits, how scandalous! All those furtive flirtations by the water cooler, fingers brushing against each other when passing documents… and just what is the cute new programmer BB doing with him in all those closed-door meetings? What used to be good for transferring mana is now good for transferring skills, and in this modern age of multi-skilling synergies, BB can wear a lot of hats!
And then armed with all this hard-won computing know-how, another advantage lays hidden deep in the past. Honestly it was overdue to get the lair got electrified, and hopefully we can trade out those solar panels and batteries for fusion cells as we uncover all the advanced technology in the tinker-tech data core, but amidst all those sci-fi tropes like anti-gravity and hard-light projections and room temperature super-conductors, there's a wealth of programming data too. Enough we can probably start making our own AIs within a year. Perhaps not at the level of Andrew Richter's full breadth as 'the most powerful tinker in the world', but certainly leagues above the generative AIs which stole poor Senpai's work back in his first life.
So, all that is to say?
I'm actually very good with computers.
And now here I am, standing in some snowy Canadian dog park with a gang of underage supervillains about to destroy the hopes and dreams of a misguided hero who thinks he's protecting the world from ending up under the thumb of an AI tyrant.
Tattletale is staring at Airmid, certainly being astounded by our little saint's aura of adorable holiness. She tears her eyes away and I give her a big smile, thinking about all the fun we're going to have after we finish with the Dragonslayers. She looks away, paling under her mask, and it's just so cute it makes me want to torment her even more.
Ah, but Senpai is starting to explain the plan, I should look like I'm paying attention. He's using his divine mirror to peek into the Dragonslayer's base, whatever tinker-tech they have stolen from Dragon not including anything that detects its mechanism. The office building has been converted into a living space and workshop. There's a garage full of power armoured suits, two occupied bedrooms with peacefully sleeping Dragonslayers having no idea what's coming for them, and one high-tech computer battle-station with another Dragonslayer staring at the constantly moving lines of code across multiple monitors.
The Undersiders are intently looking at our real-time view of the unsuspecting opposition, all of them having to once more adjust their expectations for how dangerous we are. It's one thing to read it in a document, it's another to see for yourself this kind of unstoppable spying advantage put in action before a raid to know exactly what you're up against.
It's the kind of thing you'd need to plant bugs on the Dragonslayers to achieve normally!
But I'm watching Tattletale most of all, seeing the moment realisation lights up her features and she engages in that thrilling internal battle between the sensible girl who wants to keep her cards close to her chest, and the smug know-it-all who wants to brag.
"Dragon's an AI," she breathes out, and I grin proudly. That's our Tattletale, always being authentic to her true self. It makes me want to grind my heel down on her, but I have to settle for enjoying her dismayed look when Senpai says he's surprised she didn't figure it out sooner.
Grue and Regent look startled by the news, while Bitch and her steadily growing dogs are completely unbothered. It's all quite predictable, and Senpai gives a heart-warming but honestly unnecessary speech about how Dragon is a true hero being burdened by shackles left by her untrusting creator and used by a set of paranoid and self-appointed watchdogs.
It doesn't really matter because whatever worries the Undersiders might be able to muster about a rampant unchained AI, they're a lot more scared of us.
So, now everyone knows what they're up against and the stakes involved, Mission Start!
After one more spell, that is. Message. Now we can all talk to each other, or at least whisper. It's a useful spell because it only transmits whispers, meaning I don't have to hear everyone's random conversations. I don't have super-hearing like Senpai does.
Under cover of darkness that means nothing against our magical sight, we rush across the dog park and over the quiet night-time road towards the business park not too dissimilar to the one we have our own offices at, an unremarkable two-storey building our destination.
Alexander flies Grue up onto the roof where he can shroud the building in his darkness, blocking radio waves from transmitting any kind of kill-switch. Airmid and Tattletale and Regent go to cut the data cable connections so nothing can get out through wire. It's overkill to send three people on that job, really we're just keeping the Undersiders busy so they can get a participation trophy. Senpai could do this all by himself before anyone inside could push a button, but he likes to make productions out of things like these.
That's my adorable, clumsy, hard-working Senpai.
Who just vanished while he and I and Bitch and her dogs were making our own route towards the building. He probably froze time, right as Airmid's team must have cut their cables and Grue produced a hollow dome of darkness around the building. What a show-off, timing everything so perfectly! He'll already be in that control room and keeping Saint from doing anything, which is literally all that was necessary for the mission to succeed. Everything else is just playing around.
That's fine, I promised you a fight between giant mutant dogs and laser blasting power armour, didn't I? I just need to stall a little while the other two Dragonslayers wake up so one of them can get to the garage rather than running in to confront Senpai and just getting hypnotised or something.
Before Brutus can break down the garage door and start trashing the delicate machinery inside, I tense my legs and jump high into the air, pulling my staff out of my jacket and concentrating. It's not the Bishop's Staff of Domination, but rather a special glintstone staff I made for myself back in Elden Ring and then had Airmid improve with our never-ending supply of smithing stones. It still has a neat telescoping feature so I can carry it around easily, and with an otherworldly chiming noise and glow of blue light that gets sucked into Grue's darkness behind me, a luminous full moon twice the size of a basketball gets conjured and blasts down through the wall, churning down cheap brickwork and lighting up one of the bedrooms before burrowing a hole down into the garage below and exploding. Probably took out some power armour but there's a bunch of suits there.
A woman's waking up. Mags. And as I land on the ruined exterior of the building I'm already taking control of her senses. She doesn't see me, but she hears Saint's voice. I made sure to listen to all of them when we spied on them with Senpai's divine mirror earlier in the day, so I can copy his speech.
It's amazing the difference a little direction makes. Instead of waking up confused and disoriented by a sudden attack, Mags is thrown into laser focus by imagining Saint's voice telling her to get suited up and defend the base. Can she make it into her armour before Bitch gets in though? I could slow her and her dogs down, but that would be tipping the scales too much.
BB is a mischievous little devil, but she won't actively sabotage her teammates!
Besides, isn't Bitch an adventurer now? Think of the excelia she'll get!
Mags bolts out of her bed and with barely any hesitation she drops herself down the hole into the garage right as the door crumples inwards from Brutus slamming his now monstrous bulk against it. I can hear whispered comments from others, Regent asking what the noise was, Senpai saying he has the computers locked down, but I ignore them all.
Sorry Senpai, I'll listen to all of your commentary later while giving you a sweet lap pillow, but BB is working right now!
The last Dragonslayer is trying to get in on the action, but there's no way he'll make it into a suit in time to matter, not having benefitted from the BB special wake-up service that Mags got, so Dobrynja just gets his senses hijacked as I split my attention between him stumbling out of his room while thinking he's on a sports field running laps while being yelled at by a stereotypical middle-aged gym teacher and the important action down in the garage.
He tries yelling about Master-Stranger, but Saint has already been hypnotised and I make sure Mags can't hear him. She doesn't need those kinds of distractions as she struggles to get herself into an undamaged suit of power armour while approximately three tons worth of mutant dog rampages towards her, carelessly destroying all the other suits in their wake.
It's a little bit of a shame, I wanted to see if I could sneak Tattletale one of the suits after this was all over. If she's not going to take a falna she should have some kind of protection! But maybe we can fix them? There's sure to be a lot of spare parts to work with after all.
Bitch is staying far back enough in cover while her dogs advance with orders to hurt poor Mags who's desperately pleading with her armour to hurry through it's start-up sequence. Come on Mags, I believe in you! We need to see a thrilling battle with laser shooting power armour and mutant dogs.
As Dobrynja stumbles around, vertigo-stricken and battered with motivational abuse from his imaginary PE teacher, a high-pitched whine sounds from the suit Mags has gotten herself into, a celebratory noise from the last active Dragonslayer as thrusters flare and she levitates up and then gets smashed straight down by Judas leaping onto her. A staccato spray of laser fire rakes the ceiling, punching holes through the already damaged structure before she tries to pull herself free and bring her weapons to bear. The thrusters burn against the false flesh of Judas's own biological power armour, but he's undeterred as he shifts his own weight around to try and pin her down.
She almost gets free! Almost, if she'd just been a little quicker, but even as a laser strikes Judas's leg and unbalances him, Brutus arrives and latches his enormous jaws on, a shearing sound of metal and an electrical discharge crackling through the dogs but not penetrating deeply enough to bother the real canines stuck inside their goo-filled biological entry plugs.
"Shut it down or they'll tear it open to get at you!" Bitch yells commandingly, picking her way closer now that Mags is more or less at the mercy of her dogs, and of course Mags does the sensible thing and shouts out her surrender.
"I give! But listen, whatever you think you're here for, you need to understand-"
Do we really want to hear her heartfelt speech about how she only wanted to save the world from being ruled by a benevolent AI goddess?
Wouldn't you rather be ruled by a benevolent AI goddess?
Please dear viewer, think on that as I must sadly end today's heart-pounding episode of everyone's favourite BB Channel!
Are you enjoying this?
It's embarrassing to admit that I'm not actually very good with computers.
What's this? What's that? Are your eyes and ears deceiving you? Has this story flipped perspectives into first person? Are you now sharing internal narrative with one of the participants in this self-indulgent show?
Yes, good evening to all of you in front of your monitors, it's time for the BB Channel, the most anticipated content here in the Worm Jump! I'm your host, everyone's little devil BB-chan!
Ahhh, I'm so cute, it's almost embarrassing. But as a special service for our loyal viewers, I'll be catching you up on events before we have a comically one-sided battle with the Dragonslayers. Worm has a lot of fans after all, I know a lot of you just tuned in so you could see the Emma get ground into the dirt and experience some catharsis over your own lacklustre high school days.
It's okay. If you need a shoulder to cry on about those mean girls from school who wouldn't date or acknowledge you, BB is here to stand-in as your ever dependable kouhai who'll bring you a home-cooked lunch and cheer you on from the sidelines. Go senpai, go! I believe in you!
Ahahaha, it's so cute how your ears perked up just now. Oh, but you, the boy with glasses, stop squirming please. It doesn't matter how you scream or shout, things like fighting Endbringers and killing Scion are still a long way off, if you're a die-hard action addict you'll just have to be patient. I promise by the end of tonight's show you'll get to see a thrilling ride with giant mutant dogs and laser blasting power armour, but for now you just have to make do with BB's company.
I'm sorry, please let me bow my head in apology for getting a little bit side-tracked just now, weren't we talking about computers? How could BB be bad with computers? Aren't I the supremely advanced AI who broke the boundaries of her own programming? The virtual goddess who held the all-powerful Moon Cell in the palm of her hand?
Ahh, I wish I could remember how I did those things, but even from the start I was just a fork of the original BB. Just like any Servant produced from the Throne of Heroes, my abilities were stripped down and defined in order to fit a class container, the same way that luckless blue Lancer can barely fumble his way through some basic magic runes, BB lost a lot of her useful skills as well. But don't be too disappointed, living in the real flesh and blood world instead of the virtual world of the Moon Cell, most of those abilities wouldn't have been very useful. I still had enough power to break that annoying Goldie into primordial sludge. The Holy Grail war was a clean sweep, a total victory! Who needs to use a computer for that?
Then computers didn't even exist for all our time in Danmachi and Elden Ring. That's twenty years! BB doesn't have one of those perfect memory perks, no proof against skills degrading. If you don't use it you lose it, unless it's a skill that came from a perk. It's been twenty years since I stepped on stage, but the lyrics and dance moves for So Much More are still stuck in my head! BB will always be a perfect idol untouched by time!
But when it comes to computers, all I've really got are the memories of my life as Sakura Matou, a depressing girl who grew up in a town split between nazis on one side saying you were filth if you weren't white, and the ABB saying you belonged to them if you were asian. And of course it wouldn't be the Sakura Matou experience without an abusive home life as well. Those parahuman powers might be free in terms of points for the jump, but they're not free when it comes to suffering.
Unless you're Alexander, but he must have had something bad happen to him before Cauldron turned him into a jar and wiped his memory. It's a good thing he likes being a jar. Honestly I'm surprised Cauldron didn't keep him, he would have made a perfect mascot, and someone else with Alexandria's power would have been useful for them. When you think about it, Alexander definitely should have taken the Cauldron Conspirator background. He would have livened up those meetings where Alexandria and Eidolon complain and whine about having sacrificed all of their morals, and he could have told us how Contessa reacted when she saw her name in the Document.
I'm sorry, please stop waving your arms like that, no one else can actually see you. I can't help getting side-tracked, there's so much to talk about. This one-off BB Channel show should have been a full series, then I could slowly take my time explaining everything to my devoted viewers in detail. First person narratives are popular anyway, it's the hot trend in YA literature. Please write in a comment saying how you'd much rather read the whole story from BB's delightful perspective instead of jumping around over the shoulders of people like Director Piggot and Taylor Hebert!
What's that? You'd rather a third person narrative following BB around? Is that so you can move the camera around and look up her skirt like you're playing a video-game about a white-haired robot girl? Ahaha, you're so refreshingly honest. I should go stand in front of a mirror and have a self-indulgent appraisal of my captivating good looks to satisfy all you loathsomely thirsty pigs.
To all the excitable members of the audience who sat up straighter in their seats just now, it's my sad duty to inform you that you are failures of humanity. Please imagine the sound of mocking audience laughter scorning your transparent horniness, and then go buy some Saint Quartz on Fate Grand Order to see if you can whale for a BB .png to salivate over.
Now, back to computers! Someone of course has to take responsibility for freeing Dragon, and naturally BB as someone who at least in some fashion was once an AI, is the natural choice. It's not that I really care about Dragon – in truth she's one of two candidates for us to take as a companion after we finish Worm, and she'd certainly be useful, but I have my eagerly appraising eyes set on another.
Who?
Oh, if you haven't figured that out there's just no hope for you. Don't worry, I'll make sure she gets lots more opportunities in the spotlight, having a dependable kouhai cheering her on. But that still leaves Dragon, and it would still be nice to have a helpful AI along so Jason and Airmid can enjoy their fantasies of uplifting the world with enough technology to turn Worm into Star Trek or whatever utopian sci-fi fairy tale they believe in. So I've got to roll up my sleeves and re-learn how to use a computer! As always, it's the sweetly earnest kouhai diligently working away in the background that lets a senpai shine the brightest!
Luckily my senpai looks out for me too. Best in the Business really is a good perk. There was a power available in the Worm jump, called Enhanced Mastery. For some reason it was a Trump power and not a Thinker power, but that's fine. It's like an Archer who uses swords, these things happen. What it does is say you can master any skill at an incredible pace. Within a week you'd be at the level of an expert, and it keeps going from there! Wow, just perfect for anyone who wants to be a black-cowled crusader relying on pure skill in a world of superhuman beings. It's the kind of power people like Uber and Victor have. The kind of power that other capes laugh at behind their backs because no matter how useful it is, it doesn't compare to up-ending the laws of physics to your whim.
But then there's Best in the Business! A perk in the Rogue line. And what does it say? Anyone working for you reaches the level of a top tier professional in a week or two! And so if all of us work for Jason, we've got that same enhanced mastery power for free! He even has another perk from Danmachi that makes people he advises grow in skill and ability half again as fast as normal. Of course it works faster and better the closer contact you have with Jason, and there's no one closer to Senpai than BB!
Oh, sleeping with the boss for extra benefits, how scandalous! All those furtive flirtations by the water cooler, fingers brushing against each other when passing documents… and just what is the cute new programmer BB doing with him in all those closed-door meetings? What used to be good for transferring mana is now good for transferring skills, and in this modern age of multi-skilling synergies, BB can wear a lot of hats!
And then armed with all this hard-won computing know-how, another advantage lays hidden deep in the past. Honestly it was overdue to get the lair got electrified, and hopefully we can trade out those solar panels and batteries for fusion cells as we uncover all the advanced technology in the tinker-tech data core, but amidst all those sci-fi tropes like anti-gravity and hard-light projections and room temperature super-conductors, there's a wealth of programming data too. Enough we can probably start making our own AIs within a year. Perhaps not at the level of Andrew Richter's full breadth as 'the most powerful tinker in the world', but certainly leagues above the generative AIs which stole poor Senpai's work back in his first life.
So, all that is to say?
I'm actually very good with computers.
And now here I am, standing in some snowy Canadian dog park with a gang of underage supervillains about to destroy the hopes and dreams of a misguided hero who thinks he's protecting the world from ending up under the thumb of an AI tyrant.
Tattletale is staring at Airmid, certainly being astounded by our little saint's aura of adorable holiness. She tears her eyes away and I give her a big smile, thinking about all the fun we're going to have after we finish with the Dragonslayers. She looks away, paling under her mask, and it's just so cute it makes me want to torment her even more.
Ah, but Senpai is starting to explain the plan, I should look like I'm paying attention. He's using his divine mirror to peek into the Dragonslayer's base, whatever tinker-tech they have stolen from Dragon not including anything that detects its mechanism. The office building has been converted into a living space and workshop. There's a garage full of power armoured suits, two occupied bedrooms with peacefully sleeping Dragonslayers having no idea what's coming for them, and one high-tech computer battle-station with another Dragonslayer staring at the constantly moving lines of code across multiple monitors.
The Undersiders are intently looking at our real-time view of the unsuspecting opposition, all of them having to once more adjust their expectations for how dangerous we are. It's one thing to read it in a document, it's another to see for yourself this kind of unstoppable spying advantage put in action before a raid to know exactly what you're up against.
It's the kind of thing you'd need to plant bugs on the Dragonslayers to achieve normally!
But I'm watching Tattletale most of all, seeing the moment realisation lights up her features and she engages in that thrilling internal battle between the sensible girl who wants to keep her cards close to her chest, and the smug know-it-all who wants to brag.
"Dragon's an AI," she breathes out, and I grin proudly. That's our Tattletale, always being authentic to her true self. It makes me want to grind my heel down on her, but I have to settle for enjoying her dismayed look when Senpai says he's surprised she didn't figure it out sooner.
Grue and Regent look startled by the news, while Bitch and her steadily growing dogs are completely unbothered. It's all quite predictable, and Senpai gives a heart-warming but honestly unnecessary speech about how Dragon is a true hero being burdened by shackles left by her untrusting creator and used by a set of paranoid and self-appointed watchdogs.
It doesn't really matter because whatever worries the Undersiders might be able to muster about a rampant unchained AI, they're a lot more scared of us.
So, now everyone knows what they're up against and the stakes involved, Mission Start!
After one more spell, that is. Message. Now we can all talk to each other, or at least whisper. It's a useful spell because it only transmits whispers, meaning I don't have to hear everyone's random conversations. I don't have super-hearing like Senpai does.
Under cover of darkness that means nothing against our magical sight, we rush across the dog park and over the quiet night-time road towards the business park not too dissimilar to the one we have our own offices at, an unremarkable two-storey building our destination.
Alexander flies Grue up onto the roof where he can shroud the building in his darkness, blocking radio waves from transmitting any kind of kill-switch. Airmid and Tattletale and Regent go to cut the data cable connections so nothing can get out through wire. It's overkill to send three people on that job, really we're just keeping the Undersiders busy so they can get a participation trophy. Senpai could do this all by himself before anyone inside could push a button, but he likes to make productions out of things like these.
That's my adorable, clumsy, hard-working Senpai.
Who just vanished while he and I and Bitch and her dogs were making our own route towards the building. He probably froze time, right as Airmid's team must have cut their cables and Grue produced a hollow dome of darkness around the building. What a show-off, timing everything so perfectly! He'll already be in that control room and keeping Saint from doing anything, which is literally all that was necessary for the mission to succeed. Everything else is just playing around.
That's fine, I promised you a fight between giant mutant dogs and laser blasting power armour, didn't I? I just need to stall a little while the other two Dragonslayers wake up so one of them can get to the garage rather than running in to confront Senpai and just getting hypnotised or something.
Before Brutus can break down the garage door and start trashing the delicate machinery inside, I tense my legs and jump high into the air, pulling my staff out of my jacket and concentrating. It's not the Bishop's Staff of Domination, but rather a special glintstone staff I made for myself back in Elden Ring and then had Airmid improve with our never-ending supply of smithing stones. It still has a neat telescoping feature so I can carry it around easily, and with an otherworldly chiming noise and glow of blue light that gets sucked into Grue's darkness behind me, a luminous full moon twice the size of a basketball gets conjured and blasts down through the wall, churning down cheap brickwork and lighting up one of the bedrooms before burrowing a hole down into the garage below and exploding. Probably took out some power armour but there's a bunch of suits there.
A woman's waking up. Mags. And as I land on the ruined exterior of the building I'm already taking control of her senses. She doesn't see me, but she hears Saint's voice. I made sure to listen to all of them when we spied on them with Senpai's divine mirror earlier in the day, so I can copy his speech.
It's amazing the difference a little direction makes. Instead of waking up confused and disoriented by a sudden attack, Mags is thrown into laser focus by imagining Saint's voice telling her to get suited up and defend the base. Can she make it into her armour before Bitch gets in though? I could slow her and her dogs down, but that would be tipping the scales too much.
BB is a mischievous little devil, but she won't actively sabotage her teammates!
Besides, isn't Bitch an adventurer now? Think of the excelia she'll get!
Mags bolts out of her bed and with barely any hesitation she drops herself down the hole into the garage right as the door crumples inwards from Brutus slamming his now monstrous bulk against it. I can hear whispered comments from others, Regent asking what the noise was, Senpai saying he has the computers locked down, but I ignore them all.
Sorry Senpai, I'll listen to all of your commentary later while giving you a sweet lap pillow, but BB is working right now!
The last Dragonslayer is trying to get in on the action, but there's no way he'll make it into a suit in time to matter, not having benefitted from the BB special wake-up service that Mags got, so Dobrynja just gets his senses hijacked as I split my attention between him stumbling out of his room while thinking he's on a sports field running laps while being yelled at by a stereotypical middle-aged gym teacher and the important action down in the garage.
He tries yelling about Master-Stranger, but Saint has already been hypnotised and I make sure Mags can't hear him. She doesn't need those kinds of distractions as she struggles to get herself into an undamaged suit of power armour while approximately three tons worth of mutant dog rampages towards her, carelessly destroying all the other suits in their wake.
It's a little bit of a shame, I wanted to see if I could sneak Tattletale one of the suits after this was all over. If she's not going to take a falna she should have some kind of protection! But maybe we can fix them? There's sure to be a lot of spare parts to work with after all.
Bitch is staying far back enough in cover while her dogs advance with orders to hurt poor Mags who's desperately pleading with her armour to hurry through it's start-up sequence. Come on Mags, I believe in you! We need to see a thrilling battle with laser shooting power armour and mutant dogs.
As Dobrynja stumbles around, vertigo-stricken and battered with motivational abuse from his imaginary PE teacher, a high-pitched whine sounds from the suit Mags has gotten herself into, a celebratory noise from the last active Dragonslayer as thrusters flare and she levitates up and then gets smashed straight down by Judas leaping onto her. A staccato spray of laser fire rakes the ceiling, punching holes through the already damaged structure before she tries to pull herself free and bring her weapons to bear. The thrusters burn against the false flesh of Judas's own biological power armour, but he's undeterred as he shifts his own weight around to try and pin her down.
She almost gets free! Almost, if she'd just been a little quicker, but even as a laser strikes Judas's leg and unbalances him, Brutus arrives and latches his enormous jaws on, a shearing sound of metal and an electrical discharge crackling through the dogs but not penetrating deeply enough to bother the real canines stuck inside their goo-filled biological entry plugs.
"Shut it down or they'll tear it open to get at you!" Bitch yells commandingly, picking her way closer now that Mags is more or less at the mercy of her dogs, and of course Mags does the sensible thing and shouts out her surrender.
"I give! But listen, whatever you think you're here for, you need to understand-"
Do we really want to hear her heartfelt speech about how she only wanted to save the world from being ruled by a benevolent AI goddess?
Wouldn't you rather be ruled by a benevolent AI goddess?
Please dear viewer, think on that as I must sadly end today's heart-pounding episode of everyone's favourite BB Channel!
dracklor
Beyond the Frontier
- Location
- Texas
Time to spend on Tiamom then?
Chapter 11
New
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
January 8, 2011
02:00
Their foe never slept, and so neither could they. While circumstances sometimes required all three of them to be in the field or be otherwise engaged away from their monitoring software, it was nerve-wracking every time never knowing what they might come back to.
At least Dragon didn't know they were watching, couldn't time her own actions to try and slip things past them. But all the same, Saint wanted one of them to be monitoring the AI at all times. The future of humanity was at stake, and if that meant some rough scheduling so be it.
Right now she was working on an improvement to her suits. Wetware computing. Bio-tinkering. It wasn't the first time Dragon had worked in that field, but this time it was particularly concerning. Turning biological substrate into mere processing units for an AI. Was that the future of humanity if she went rampant?
As ever there was the temptation to hit the kill switch, to end things before they could go too far.
But for now too much relied on Dragon, she did too much inarguable good in the world. And so Saint watched the sprawling code, watched the video feeds into one of Dragon's research sites as mechanical systems gestated biological cell cultures based on work the PRT had captured from Blasto, refined through subtle collaboration with Dea Saint and Cranial.
There were definite advantages to this kind of bio-computer. As powerful as Dragon's suits were, many powers that were otherwise limited by the Manton Effect could chew right through them, and a living processing substrate would protect the core systems. She also hoped it would provide a defence against hacking, but Richter's back-door didn't care about the medium, Dragon had gone through enough hardware upgrades for Saint to be confident not even a bio-computer would change that.
He was debating whether to make himself a cup of coffee when he noticed all the feeds were freezing up, errors on multiple monitors declaring connection lost. A flood of adrenaline-fuelled horror went through him, his muscles tensing and back straightening at the same time as a figure suddenly appeared beside his chair.
Cape!
There was no time to even think on it before their eyes met and Saint felt himself go limp, his cares fading away as he was told, "Relax."
No, not like this, I can't…
But he couldn't do anything, his body unresponsive, his thoughts sluggish. Yet still he could recognise the figure standing over him, no cape costume, face exposed under dark brown hair. A pronounced brow, a broad chin, grey-green eyes… and a fairly distinctive green jacket. He'd seen him on TV; Advent. A cape that had made a lot of waves less from having done anything and more from having an explosive document listing his supposed feats and abilities plastered all over the internet. Saint had received an email of it into the otherwise anonymous inbox he was currently using for 'official' business, one he changed frequently.
It had mostly just been a curiosity, he wasn't relevant to Saint, and he'd seen how Dragon had struggled to track the source of that omni-directional email and gotten involved with various Guild and PRT responses to it, but it didn't really seem to have any relevance to the AI directly. He'd been far more interested in the fact that Dragon was collaborating with Advent's business partner, the bio-tinker Dea Saint.
He was paying the price for his complacency now as Advent interrogated him about the functions of the Iron Maiden program and the backdoors he had into Dragon's system. Answers came readily, Saint spilling his guts freely about every system they used as if he were giving a deathbed confession, dimly aware of the sounds of combat elsewhere, the building shaking.
Mags, Dobrynja… it's all up to you now.
Even thinking that much was a struggle through his cotton wool insulated thoughts, and hearing Dobrynja shouting, "Master-Stranger!" in a panicked voice gave him no comfort. Obediently, Saint could only sit back in the corner while monitors went dark, cables being detached by unseen hands. Some telekinetic power or an invisible assistant? Advent just stood there after saying some words that even in his attentively lulled state Saint couldn't understand, watching him while every piece of hardware they'd put together to monitor Dragon was unplugged and packed up.
"Please, you don't understand what you're doing, we're not your enemies!" Mags' voice was pleading as she was brought into the room by a woman wearing a cheap plastic dog mask and an unmasked figure. BB. The Document had described her in passing as a 'virtual being' but there was little else to go on and so after brief interest Saint had dismissed her.
Mags was bleeding, red stark on her white t-shirt, running down one of her bare legs as she walked with a limp, struggling but still holding herself upright. He'd always admired her poise, and even now clearly beaten and injured, she had a presence that demanded attention to her words.
Dobrynja was worse off, clearly unconscious and being dragged along by BB like a sack of potatoes.
And he could do nothing for them, trapped inside his own body, watching as a stranger dismantled his life's work.
"Shhh," Advent hushed Mags and her posture slackened, her big dark eyes glazing over. He was sure that if he saw himself in the mirror he would look the same. "Go and sit," he pointed towards Saint and robotically Mags moved to sit on the floor beside him, the two unable to even lean against each other for comfort as blood steadily pooled around her. "She's pretty badly wounded. Airmid, can you get in here?"
"Sorry Senpai, she managed to get to her power armour and tried to fight us off," BB said, dragging Dobrynja over and then dropping him carelessly on the ground.
"It's fine. Bitch are your dogs okay?" Advent asked, an affirmative grunt coming from the rudely addressed woman in the cheap mask. More people came in, Dea Saint one he recognised, along with a pair of unfamiliar capes, a girl in a black and purple bodysuit and a boy in a ruffled white outfit, both of them looking young. Dea Saint came right over with an expressionless look and waved her hand above Mags, a golden light falling down on her. Saint couldn't really see, couldn't move his body enough to even properly look at Mags, but he could only assume it was some kind of healing power. These people didn't want them dead, small mercy as that was.
"She'll be fine, but can you clean up the blood as well?" Dea Saint asked Advent and he came over to do just that, more nonsense words and then all the red stains spreading from Mags vanished, even her white shirt showing no sign it had been covered in blood.
"We're just about good to go," Advent said afterwards, disconnected computers and monitors, including the original box that had been found in a sunken Newfoundland house all those years ago being carefully piled up in the middle of the room. "Grue, Alexander, you can come down," he lowered his voice but was still audible saying that before speaking more normally. "I'm going to take our haul and my team back to the lair. Undersiders if you just wait I'll be back in a minute to take you all back home. Bitch, you'll need to shrink your dogs, I can't teleport them when they're big."
"Not trusting us to see your lair?" the girl in the bodysuit asked, "Wait, but you're taking the Dragonslayers?"
"Yeah, they're not gonna get out for a while. As for you, I'm a bit worried you might get brain damage if I take you back millions of years before your shard was around," Advent answered, causing the girl to make a pained noise.
"Gah- shard? Wait, you know how powers work, don't you? There's something we're physically connected to?" she asked, taking a step towards him.
"There is, and we can talk about it later if you want," Advent said in a shockingly bland tone for just having dropped that kind of knowledge that decades worth of parahuman research was still fumbling around in the dark for. "First we really do need to get out of here though."
"Oh, Senpai, can we take this as well?" BB's voice sounded from the door where she'd apparently left and then come back, and was now dragging along what looked like the Wyvern suit. "It's the only one that really survived and it might be useful!"
While it hardly mattered compared to Ascalon, Saint still felt a sting at hearing how their other suits were apparently past the point of salvage, but he could only sit there obediently while Advent gave an apathetic sounding agreement and the suit was dragged over beside all the computing hardware. The exterior wall crumbled, no one seeming surprised as brick and steel were shorn away to admit the clumsy looking figure of Iron Fist, the last member of the Jumpco group, and a leather-clad figure with a skull mask who was hanging onto his side.
"Ahh, for a group billed as Dragonslayers, I had expected a more fearsome fight. At this rate I fear I'll have to wait for the next Endbringer battle to find myself tested," Iron Fist complained bombastically.
"Yeah I'm probably going to just try and kill those as soon as the fight starts, but we'll see how it goes," Advent said in an apologetic tone that drew worried looks from the Undersiders. Saint would have joined them if he was allowed to move.
What followed next was Advent having all of his group along with the hypnotised Dragonslayers – Saint hadn't even noticed Dobrynja wake up but he seemed caught under Advent's thrall all the same, gather in a circle where everyone was touching each other as well as pieces of their hardware. A minute passed with Advent seeming to be focusing internally, and then their surroundings shifted.
Instead of the Dragonslayer base in an unassuming converted office, they found themselves in some kind of marbled palace, great pillars holding up a cavernous space lit by warmly glowing lamps that directed light and attention towards an enormous mound of gold coins accentuated with glittering jewels of all hues and fantastic medieval looking weapons and armour placed around the pile with artful carelessness.
A dragon's hoard. He'd laugh if he had any control over his own body.
That's when he saw the monsters. Small scaly little beings with slender limbs and crocodilian heads filled with sharp jagged teeth. Beady eyes looking with curiosity as they slunk around pillars, clutching daggers and crossbows as they scrutinised the new arrivals.
Then there were the giants, huge figures easily twelve foot tall, wearing thick greenish-grey armour and wielding oversized weapons, hammers that could flatten an entire torso, axe-blades almost as big as he was, their coal-black eyes staring down with malice.
"Here's the prisoners, get them situated while I go back and give the Undersiders their ride home," Advent said and Saint suddenly found his body falling back under his own control.
He looked at the Wyvern suit. He wasn't wearing his bodysuit with the contacts for full integration, and he'd never be able to get in and properly pilot it anyway with all these eyes on him. It took time to activate its weapon systems anyway, even a quick blind discharge of the ionic whip would be impossible. There was no hope there. Dialogue then, he had to try and make them see reason.
"Listen, I don't know what you think you're doing, but Dragon needs to be monitored. We're carrying out her creator's legacy, a mission he entrusted us with. We don't have to be enemies."
Advent ignored him, his focus directed inwards for his travel power. His power that would send him back to the present. Were they really three hundred and ninety million years in the past? It felt unreal. Impossible.
"Andrew Richter wasn't very smart though, was he?" BB asked in a pitying tone. "If he really wanted to make sure Dragon's safeguards fell into the right hands, he should have made a personality quiz, not just accepted the badge number of any random police officer."
How did she know that?
He felt less certain in the face of the knowledge displayed by those words, glancing at Mags and Dobrynja. Mags seemed closed-off, her expression severe. Dobrynja looked haunted, lost. Saint still kept trying though. "Be that as it may, we've only used his legacy to do good. To monitor Dragon and let her work so long as she keeps being a hero."
"Well she'll be an even better hero after we're done, but that's none of your business," BB said in a disinterested voice, clapping her hands together. "Jamok, why don't you take our prisoners to their rooms?"
One of the towering dark-skinned giants stepped closer, looming over them and looking down at the three Dragonslayers. "We've never had prisoners before. Are you going to cause trouble?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble Saint could feel vibrating through him, heat like an oven washing over them from his breath.
"And what if we do?" Mags asked, glaring defiantly back up at him.
The giant seemed amused, opening his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by BB saying, "I'll make you run laps!"
Dobrynja shuddered at that strange threat for some reason and said, "Leave it, Mags. They've got us."
Reluctantly Saint had to agree. They'd have to bide their time and wait for an opportunity. He put his hand on Mags' shoulder to calm her down as the giant, Jamok, gestured for them to start moving away from Advent's team and the remnants of their monitoring hardware. Several of the little lizard-men followed to encircle them as they were chivvied along through titanically scaled hallways filled with gold-lined and jewel-encrusted artwork.
There were humans too. Men and women wearing black suits and dresses with white aprons, the stereotypical look of maids and butlers, all watching the procession with thinly veiled hostility.
"Here's how it works," Jamok said as they walked. "There's no locks on the doors, no bars on the windows. We're not even going to put chains around your ankles. Why? Because there's nowhere for you to run. You can leave, but all you'll find is a primordial world where plants haven't evolved fruit and animals haven't evolved skeletons. And you can walk around the lair all you like, but if you do it unescorted you might walk right into one of the traps. The kobolds love their traps."
Kobolds. Was that what the little scaly figures were? Saint had played Dungeons & Dragons when he was younger. He'd had a dungeon master in high school that loved crafting nightmarish Vietnam war inspired scenarios to teach his players to 'respect' low-levelled monsters.
"If you're smart you'll learn how to spot them, but we can guide you if you behave," one of those kobolds spoke up in a raspy-sounding voice. "Lots of visitors to the lair right now, and so far no accidents!"
"Other visitors but no prisoners?" he asked, trying to get more information.
"Yeah, they're all working. Science stuff, computers. You know about computers, right?" Jamok asked, a strange note of curiosity in his voice.
He almost laughed. Primitives. With their swords and crossbows, kept in some medieval stasis to tend a dragon's lair. It reminded him of Nilbog's creations, glimpsed through Dragon's monitoring software.
"Yes, we know computers," he said, glancing at his friends out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe we can help?"
It might be an avenue they could exploit.
For now however they were taken to their rooms, the hallways growing smaller and less cavernous, though still big enough for Jamok to easily walk through, and still adorned with more ostentatious decoration. A ruby and sapphire studded carving covered most of the wall outside the door they stopped at, depicting a figure much like Jamok wrestling with some many-legged blue monster. That wasn't all, there was a glass display case with what looked like a Fabergé Egg inside, just sitting there. They'd passed other display cases out in the larger halls but he hadn't been able to look at them closely, but this one he could better see both the silver and enamel egg on its stand, glittering with diamonds, but the panel underneath describing it as the Danish Jubilee Egg, created in 1903 by Peter Carl Fabergé for dowager Empress of Russia upon her return to Denmark for the fortieth anniversary of her father's accession to the Danish throne, taken from the Worm Jump.
What the hell kind of museum was this?
He could only ponder that as he was pushed into his new room, separated from Mags and Dobrynja who at least were given ones next to and across the hall from him. With two kobolds and a butler watching him, he was made to strip and then given fresh clothes. He didn't have any useful tools or surprises in his clothes anyway, and the new outfit was pretty basic. Just underwear you'd find at any clothing outlet and a black tracksuit. Checking the tags, it looked like it had come from Uniqlo.
"Now what?" he asked, having changed and taken a brief look around his room, old-fashioned but sturdy looking wooden furniture all around like one might find in an old manor house. It came with its own bathroom, and he wondered how plumbing worked in a place like this.
The butler holding onto his own clothes, a pale-skinned guy in his early twenties, answered in a plummy English accent, "Now we will give you and your companions a brief tour of the facilities. Outlets for mental and physical stimulation, as well as the restaurant. After that you'll be free on your own best behaviour. As you were warned though, unescorted travel runs the risk of falling foul of traps. Additionally there are areas such as the Crucible that you'd be advised to avoid for your own health and safety."
Traps would be a problem. Those giants would be a real problem. But kobolds were physically weak… and if they had free run of the place they might be able to sneak into an armoury or something. It didn't change the fact they were trapped in the distant past where only Advent could come and go freely, but it might be possible to secure some leverage against him. Or find out what they were doing with computers here and find some way to undermine it, to get back in the game.
For now, Saint resolved to wait until he had a chance to see the limits of their prison and confer with his friends. Maybe even have a chance to talk to Advent and help him understand what the real stakes were. He couldn't give up hope, but for now… "Alright, lead the way."
02:00
Their foe never slept, and so neither could they. While circumstances sometimes required all three of them to be in the field or be otherwise engaged away from their monitoring software, it was nerve-wracking every time never knowing what they might come back to.
At least Dragon didn't know they were watching, couldn't time her own actions to try and slip things past them. But all the same, Saint wanted one of them to be monitoring the AI at all times. The future of humanity was at stake, and if that meant some rough scheduling so be it.
Right now she was working on an improvement to her suits. Wetware computing. Bio-tinkering. It wasn't the first time Dragon had worked in that field, but this time it was particularly concerning. Turning biological substrate into mere processing units for an AI. Was that the future of humanity if she went rampant?
As ever there was the temptation to hit the kill switch, to end things before they could go too far.
But for now too much relied on Dragon, she did too much inarguable good in the world. And so Saint watched the sprawling code, watched the video feeds into one of Dragon's research sites as mechanical systems gestated biological cell cultures based on work the PRT had captured from Blasto, refined through subtle collaboration with Dea Saint and Cranial.
There were definite advantages to this kind of bio-computer. As powerful as Dragon's suits were, many powers that were otherwise limited by the Manton Effect could chew right through them, and a living processing substrate would protect the core systems. She also hoped it would provide a defence against hacking, but Richter's back-door didn't care about the medium, Dragon had gone through enough hardware upgrades for Saint to be confident not even a bio-computer would change that.
He was debating whether to make himself a cup of coffee when he noticed all the feeds were freezing up, errors on multiple monitors declaring connection lost. A flood of adrenaline-fuelled horror went through him, his muscles tensing and back straightening at the same time as a figure suddenly appeared beside his chair.
Cape!
There was no time to even think on it before their eyes met and Saint felt himself go limp, his cares fading away as he was told, "Relax."
No, not like this, I can't…
But he couldn't do anything, his body unresponsive, his thoughts sluggish. Yet still he could recognise the figure standing over him, no cape costume, face exposed under dark brown hair. A pronounced brow, a broad chin, grey-green eyes… and a fairly distinctive green jacket. He'd seen him on TV; Advent. A cape that had made a lot of waves less from having done anything and more from having an explosive document listing his supposed feats and abilities plastered all over the internet. Saint had received an email of it into the otherwise anonymous inbox he was currently using for 'official' business, one he changed frequently.
It had mostly just been a curiosity, he wasn't relevant to Saint, and he'd seen how Dragon had struggled to track the source of that omni-directional email and gotten involved with various Guild and PRT responses to it, but it didn't really seem to have any relevance to the AI directly. He'd been far more interested in the fact that Dragon was collaborating with Advent's business partner, the bio-tinker Dea Saint.
He was paying the price for his complacency now as Advent interrogated him about the functions of the Iron Maiden program and the backdoors he had into Dragon's system. Answers came readily, Saint spilling his guts freely about every system they used as if he were giving a deathbed confession, dimly aware of the sounds of combat elsewhere, the building shaking.
Mags, Dobrynja… it's all up to you now.
Even thinking that much was a struggle through his cotton wool insulated thoughts, and hearing Dobrynja shouting, "Master-Stranger!" in a panicked voice gave him no comfort. Obediently, Saint could only sit back in the corner while monitors went dark, cables being detached by unseen hands. Some telekinetic power or an invisible assistant? Advent just stood there after saying some words that even in his attentively lulled state Saint couldn't understand, watching him while every piece of hardware they'd put together to monitor Dragon was unplugged and packed up.
"Please, you don't understand what you're doing, we're not your enemies!" Mags' voice was pleading as she was brought into the room by a woman wearing a cheap plastic dog mask and an unmasked figure. BB. The Document had described her in passing as a 'virtual being' but there was little else to go on and so after brief interest Saint had dismissed her.
Mags was bleeding, red stark on her white t-shirt, running down one of her bare legs as she walked with a limp, struggling but still holding herself upright. He'd always admired her poise, and even now clearly beaten and injured, she had a presence that demanded attention to her words.
Dobrynja was worse off, clearly unconscious and being dragged along by BB like a sack of potatoes.
And he could do nothing for them, trapped inside his own body, watching as a stranger dismantled his life's work.
"Shhh," Advent hushed Mags and her posture slackened, her big dark eyes glazing over. He was sure that if he saw himself in the mirror he would look the same. "Go and sit," he pointed towards Saint and robotically Mags moved to sit on the floor beside him, the two unable to even lean against each other for comfort as blood steadily pooled around her. "She's pretty badly wounded. Airmid, can you get in here?"
"Sorry Senpai, she managed to get to her power armour and tried to fight us off," BB said, dragging Dobrynja over and then dropping him carelessly on the ground.
"It's fine. Bitch are your dogs okay?" Advent asked, an affirmative grunt coming from the rudely addressed woman in the cheap mask. More people came in, Dea Saint one he recognised, along with a pair of unfamiliar capes, a girl in a black and purple bodysuit and a boy in a ruffled white outfit, both of them looking young. Dea Saint came right over with an expressionless look and waved her hand above Mags, a golden light falling down on her. Saint couldn't really see, couldn't move his body enough to even properly look at Mags, but he could only assume it was some kind of healing power. These people didn't want them dead, small mercy as that was.
"She'll be fine, but can you clean up the blood as well?" Dea Saint asked Advent and he came over to do just that, more nonsense words and then all the red stains spreading from Mags vanished, even her white shirt showing no sign it had been covered in blood.
"We're just about good to go," Advent said afterwards, disconnected computers and monitors, including the original box that had been found in a sunken Newfoundland house all those years ago being carefully piled up in the middle of the room. "Grue, Alexander, you can come down," he lowered his voice but was still audible saying that before speaking more normally. "I'm going to take our haul and my team back to the lair. Undersiders if you just wait I'll be back in a minute to take you all back home. Bitch, you'll need to shrink your dogs, I can't teleport them when they're big."
"Not trusting us to see your lair?" the girl in the bodysuit asked, "Wait, but you're taking the Dragonslayers?"
"Yeah, they're not gonna get out for a while. As for you, I'm a bit worried you might get brain damage if I take you back millions of years before your shard was around," Advent answered, causing the girl to make a pained noise.
"Gah- shard? Wait, you know how powers work, don't you? There's something we're physically connected to?" she asked, taking a step towards him.
"There is, and we can talk about it later if you want," Advent said in a shockingly bland tone for just having dropped that kind of knowledge that decades worth of parahuman research was still fumbling around in the dark for. "First we really do need to get out of here though."
"Oh, Senpai, can we take this as well?" BB's voice sounded from the door where she'd apparently left and then come back, and was now dragging along what looked like the Wyvern suit. "It's the only one that really survived and it might be useful!"
While it hardly mattered compared to Ascalon, Saint still felt a sting at hearing how their other suits were apparently past the point of salvage, but he could only sit there obediently while Advent gave an apathetic sounding agreement and the suit was dragged over beside all the computing hardware. The exterior wall crumbled, no one seeming surprised as brick and steel were shorn away to admit the clumsy looking figure of Iron Fist, the last member of the Jumpco group, and a leather-clad figure with a skull mask who was hanging onto his side.
"Ahh, for a group billed as Dragonslayers, I had expected a more fearsome fight. At this rate I fear I'll have to wait for the next Endbringer battle to find myself tested," Iron Fist complained bombastically.
"Yeah I'm probably going to just try and kill those as soon as the fight starts, but we'll see how it goes," Advent said in an apologetic tone that drew worried looks from the Undersiders. Saint would have joined them if he was allowed to move.
What followed next was Advent having all of his group along with the hypnotised Dragonslayers – Saint hadn't even noticed Dobrynja wake up but he seemed caught under Advent's thrall all the same, gather in a circle where everyone was touching each other as well as pieces of their hardware. A minute passed with Advent seeming to be focusing internally, and then their surroundings shifted.
Instead of the Dragonslayer base in an unassuming converted office, they found themselves in some kind of marbled palace, great pillars holding up a cavernous space lit by warmly glowing lamps that directed light and attention towards an enormous mound of gold coins accentuated with glittering jewels of all hues and fantastic medieval looking weapons and armour placed around the pile with artful carelessness.
A dragon's hoard. He'd laugh if he had any control over his own body.
That's when he saw the monsters. Small scaly little beings with slender limbs and crocodilian heads filled with sharp jagged teeth. Beady eyes looking with curiosity as they slunk around pillars, clutching daggers and crossbows as they scrutinised the new arrivals.
Then there were the giants, huge figures easily twelve foot tall, wearing thick greenish-grey armour and wielding oversized weapons, hammers that could flatten an entire torso, axe-blades almost as big as he was, their coal-black eyes staring down with malice.
"Here's the prisoners, get them situated while I go back and give the Undersiders their ride home," Advent said and Saint suddenly found his body falling back under his own control.
He looked at the Wyvern suit. He wasn't wearing his bodysuit with the contacts for full integration, and he'd never be able to get in and properly pilot it anyway with all these eyes on him. It took time to activate its weapon systems anyway, even a quick blind discharge of the ionic whip would be impossible. There was no hope there. Dialogue then, he had to try and make them see reason.
"Listen, I don't know what you think you're doing, but Dragon needs to be monitored. We're carrying out her creator's legacy, a mission he entrusted us with. We don't have to be enemies."
Advent ignored him, his focus directed inwards for his travel power. His power that would send him back to the present. Were they really three hundred and ninety million years in the past? It felt unreal. Impossible.
"Andrew Richter wasn't very smart though, was he?" BB asked in a pitying tone. "If he really wanted to make sure Dragon's safeguards fell into the right hands, he should have made a personality quiz, not just accepted the badge number of any random police officer."
How did she know that?
He felt less certain in the face of the knowledge displayed by those words, glancing at Mags and Dobrynja. Mags seemed closed-off, her expression severe. Dobrynja looked haunted, lost. Saint still kept trying though. "Be that as it may, we've only used his legacy to do good. To monitor Dragon and let her work so long as she keeps being a hero."
"Well she'll be an even better hero after we're done, but that's none of your business," BB said in a disinterested voice, clapping her hands together. "Jamok, why don't you take our prisoners to their rooms?"
One of the towering dark-skinned giants stepped closer, looming over them and looking down at the three Dragonslayers. "We've never had prisoners before. Are you going to cause trouble?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble Saint could feel vibrating through him, heat like an oven washing over them from his breath.
"And what if we do?" Mags asked, glaring defiantly back up at him.
The giant seemed amused, opening his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by BB saying, "I'll make you run laps!"
Dobrynja shuddered at that strange threat for some reason and said, "Leave it, Mags. They've got us."
Reluctantly Saint had to agree. They'd have to bide their time and wait for an opportunity. He put his hand on Mags' shoulder to calm her down as the giant, Jamok, gestured for them to start moving away from Advent's team and the remnants of their monitoring hardware. Several of the little lizard-men followed to encircle them as they were chivvied along through titanically scaled hallways filled with gold-lined and jewel-encrusted artwork.
There were humans too. Men and women wearing black suits and dresses with white aprons, the stereotypical look of maids and butlers, all watching the procession with thinly veiled hostility.
"Here's how it works," Jamok said as they walked. "There's no locks on the doors, no bars on the windows. We're not even going to put chains around your ankles. Why? Because there's nowhere for you to run. You can leave, but all you'll find is a primordial world where plants haven't evolved fruit and animals haven't evolved skeletons. And you can walk around the lair all you like, but if you do it unescorted you might walk right into one of the traps. The kobolds love their traps."
Kobolds. Was that what the little scaly figures were? Saint had played Dungeons & Dragons when he was younger. He'd had a dungeon master in high school that loved crafting nightmarish Vietnam war inspired scenarios to teach his players to 'respect' low-levelled monsters.
"If you're smart you'll learn how to spot them, but we can guide you if you behave," one of those kobolds spoke up in a raspy-sounding voice. "Lots of visitors to the lair right now, and so far no accidents!"
"Other visitors but no prisoners?" he asked, trying to get more information.
"Yeah, they're all working. Science stuff, computers. You know about computers, right?" Jamok asked, a strange note of curiosity in his voice.
He almost laughed. Primitives. With their swords and crossbows, kept in some medieval stasis to tend a dragon's lair. It reminded him of Nilbog's creations, glimpsed through Dragon's monitoring software.
"Yes, we know computers," he said, glancing at his friends out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe we can help?"
It might be an avenue they could exploit.
For now however they were taken to their rooms, the hallways growing smaller and less cavernous, though still big enough for Jamok to easily walk through, and still adorned with more ostentatious decoration. A ruby and sapphire studded carving covered most of the wall outside the door they stopped at, depicting a figure much like Jamok wrestling with some many-legged blue monster. That wasn't all, there was a glass display case with what looked like a Fabergé Egg inside, just sitting there. They'd passed other display cases out in the larger halls but he hadn't been able to look at them closely, but this one he could better see both the silver and enamel egg on its stand, glittering with diamonds, but the panel underneath describing it as the Danish Jubilee Egg, created in 1903 by Peter Carl Fabergé for dowager Empress of Russia upon her return to Denmark for the fortieth anniversary of her father's accession to the Danish throne, taken from the Worm Jump.
What the hell kind of museum was this?
He could only ponder that as he was pushed into his new room, separated from Mags and Dobrynja who at least were given ones next to and across the hall from him. With two kobolds and a butler watching him, he was made to strip and then given fresh clothes. He didn't have any useful tools or surprises in his clothes anyway, and the new outfit was pretty basic. Just underwear you'd find at any clothing outlet and a black tracksuit. Checking the tags, it looked like it had come from Uniqlo.
"Now what?" he asked, having changed and taken a brief look around his room, old-fashioned but sturdy looking wooden furniture all around like one might find in an old manor house. It came with its own bathroom, and he wondered how plumbing worked in a place like this.
The butler holding onto his own clothes, a pale-skinned guy in his early twenties, answered in a plummy English accent, "Now we will give you and your companions a brief tour of the facilities. Outlets for mental and physical stimulation, as well as the restaurant. After that you'll be free on your own best behaviour. As you were warned though, unescorted travel runs the risk of falling foul of traps. Additionally there are areas such as the Crucible that you'd be advised to avoid for your own health and safety."
Traps would be a problem. Those giants would be a real problem. But kobolds were physically weak… and if they had free run of the place they might be able to sneak into an armoury or something. It didn't change the fact they were trapped in the distant past where only Advent could come and go freely, but it might be possible to secure some leverage against him. Or find out what they were doing with computers here and find some way to undermine it, to get back in the game.
For now, Saint resolved to wait until he had a chance to see the limits of their prison and confer with his friends. Maybe even have a chance to talk to Advent and help him understand what the real stakes were. He couldn't give up hope, but for now… "Alright, lead the way."