Glorious Bullshit Magical Robot Communism!
[X] Write-In: Targeted Recruitment: Carefully identify individuals who can be trusted with this within the Protectorate and PRT. Give them a partial pitch - they're unlikely to believe in Autochthon as some giant alien being, so just present him like an extraordinarily powerful Tinker trying to enter our dimension. Seek help in finding potential recruits.
Understanding the Undersiders
[X] Alert the PRT that the Undersiders have left with Panacea and Parian in tow.
Philadelphia Road Trip: Are We There Yet?
[X] Essence Reservoir-to-Heart: Provide counsel for a member of your caravan, getting to know them better as a mortal as well as evaluating them for Alchemical potential.
- [x] Stunt: Vista Time, she's seriously concerned about us at this point, so we need to reassure her that we're really fine, and explain a few things about our nature.
[X] Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives: Sample New England cuisine to increase your own culinary profile.
XP Expenditures:
[X] 2 XP - Investigation (Online Research ●○○)
[X] 9 XP - Reputation (Beautiful) ●●●○○
***
"Hebert. Take a seat."
The PRT, expecting the refugee camp outside of Providence to remain for more than a week or two, have already begun converting their primary 'headquarters' tent into a temporary office building. The newly-constructed meeting room in which you find yourself now is barely bigger than the small interrogation rooms back on the old Protectorate HQ oil rig, yet the long table and dozen metallic folding chairs filling the room reinforces the image that space is not a plentiful commodity in the camp at the moment.
At the end of the table opposite from the door through which you just entered, Director Piggot sits with several small mountains of paperwork arrayed in front of her. She doesn't look up from the papers currently occupying her attention, though her off-hand points to one of the chairs clumped up on the right side of the table near her.
Closing the door behind you, a quick shift between your power armor and your dress costume - without revealing your Alchemical form, now that you've had some practice with the swap - allows you to fit into the dust-stained chair without crushing the flimsy aluminum furniture. The position allows you to see the Director's dirty and haggard face through towers of paperwork surrounding her, and your diagnostic scans confirm your hypothesis: the Director is in dire need of rest and medical aid.
Your experience with Director Piggot leads you to believe that stating such would only induce anger and resistance in the stubborn PRT Director, so you remain silent and focus instead on feeding the local parasitic insects to the spiders you've been collecting.
As she scribbles her signature at the bottom of the paper in front of her and shuts the manilla folder containing it closed, she leans back, closes her eyes, and exhales a long, tired sigh.
"You'd think I'd have less paperwork to do without a city to look after."
Several thoughts come to your mind regarding proper bureaucratic procedure, but you detect that the Director is speaking aloud for her own benefit and ultimately decide to continue your silence.
Several long moments pass, filled only with the sound of the muffled buzzing and hammering from the nearby construction. Finally, Director Piggot leans forward, places her elbows on the table, and clasps her hands together under her nose. Her eyes scrutinize you, but much of the restrained frustration you remember from before is gone from behind the gaze.
"Technically, I've been reassigned to Providence as a Deputy Director, under Director Kenneth. I'll likely be living here in this camp for the next two months until the PRT, local relief teams, and insurance companies can get the survivors shipped out - if not on their feet."
You maintain eye contact, but you only nod in recognition of her statement. It is clear that she disagrees with this chain of events, so reiterating such would add nothing to the conversation and only prolong it further.
Breaking her gaze, her eyes drift to one of the stacks of paperwork on her left, her mouth shifting as she rubs her teeth with her tongue in idle thought. After a few moments of silence, she unclasps her hands and carefully extracts an otherwise-featureless manilla folder from the stack. Flipping it open to confirm its contents, she closes it and slides it across the table to you before turning back to a new set of papers and resuming her own work.
"Your transfer papers. Be quick about it, we have other business."
Extruding the pen Iris customized for you last week, your six-fold consciousnesses quickly consume the twenty-seven pages of fine print.
Declarations that you are of sound mind and body, and made your decisions free of coercion. That you are aware that your legal guardianship has been transferred from the state of Rhode Island to the state of Pennsylvania. Reimbursement for the destruction of your civilian property, totalling to $61,500, which will be added to and held in your Trust Fund until your eighteenth birthday.
Formal conclusion of your probationary membership in the Wards, instating you as a full member of the Wards.
Despite not needing to, you look up at Director Piggot. She notices the movement out of the corner of her eye, looks to you, then the paperwork in front of you, then back to you.
"Problem, Hebert?"
Your minds consider methods for properly articulating your gratitude for the recognition of your abilities and accomplishments, ultimately deciding on the least-offensive response.
"Negative."
You believe you see a quirk in her lips, but it is likely simply the swaying of the lights from the small aftershock tremor that just briefly swept through the room. She gives you another nod and resumes her work.
The rest of the legalese is perfunctory, save two items near the end: recruitment bonuses for Sakura Kurosawa and Saki Kurosawa, each totaling $2,500 - which both go into your Trust Fund, as usual. You sign and initial for the bonuses and the remaining legalese, then close the folder and pass it back to Director Piggot. As she looks up to you and takes the folder, you catch her eyes.
"Recruitment bonus?"
Snorting lightly, Director Piggot begins quickly flipping through the papers to ensure that everything in order. Her voice has regained a bit of the hardness you remember now, despite her preoccupation with double-checking your paperwork.
"Dragon and Miss Militia deferred the bonuses to you. Dragon said you were the ones that brought them to her attention, but Miss Militia didn't say why she turned it down."
"Transfer location?"
Narrowing her eyes and leveling her gaze on you, the overweight Director flips closed the folder and places it atop the pile from which she extracted it earlier.
"More recruits for the cult of Weaver. They'll be headed with you to Philadelphia, as that's where Miss Militia is transferring."
Blinking, you shake your head.
"Negative. Prayer not received."
Piggot's eyes widen briefly at your matter-of-fact response, then narrow fully as she snorts a sigh of dissatisfaction.
"Which brings us to the girl you just brought in. I want you in the room for this interrogation, invisible, feeding me whatever that lie detection program brings up."
"Stranger power disruptive."
Nodding her head, she looks at another stack of papers and begins carefully extracting a thin manilla folder while maintaining her explanation.
"Dragon's spare suit won't fit in here, so you're the only insurance I have if she tries something. This is going to be a test to see if she can play ball, so I don't want her to know you're in the room until we visibly bring you in for the later stages."
Some of your consciousnesses consider this needlessly deceptive, but the remainder of your minds recall the fact that the young Stranger was able to successfully execute a plan that would have had a decent chance of severely injuring you. Had you not been able to pressure her into giving up on the plan at the end, it may very well have worked in her favor.
"Affirmative."
You stand up and quickly shift back to your power armor, then open a channel to Director Piggot's headset. Blurring into invisibility in a wave of distorted air as your Optical Shroud engages, you disable the external speakers on your suit and test the headset connection by issuing a warning to the Director.
"Personality reminiscent of Clockblocker. Vulgar language. Self-esteem issues stemming from educational deficiencies. Hypothesis: problematic behavior due to lack of attention from parental units. Power removes, blocks memories of existence, compounds problem."
Pulling out a bottle of pills from the handbag at her side, the Director swallows two with a dry gulp and then nods in finality.
"Noted."
Tapping a few inputs onto the cellular phone lying on the table beside her, Director Piggot signals for the security team to bring in Grue's sister. In the quiet that follows, you note Dragon's digital avatar pop up on your HUD along with a request to authorize her use of your suit's sensor package. The three-dimensional wire-mesh avatar remains silent, but gives you a sly wink as you flicker your eyes over the "OK" button.
Your bugs note the procession as it makes its way through the tent/building, having come from a waiting room on the other side of the structure: Miss Militia, Armsmaster, and two fully-armored PRT officers escorting the unrestrained young black girl. You note the young Stranger has been given a chance to use the sonic and chemical wash to clean up, but from her expression you gather that she is both wary of the attention and a bit smug that she deserves it.
As they finally make it to your room, Armsmaster opens the door for the young girl and then smoothly shuts it behind her. Miss Milita visibly frowns and sighs at that, but resumes her post on the opposite side of the door with her Protectorate partner all the same. The two PRT officers take up positions on the far wall, containment foam grenades at the ready.
Inside, Director Piggot surprises you by swiftly moving to her feet and turning to give her full attention to the new parahuman. She extends a hand to the young girl, shifting her off-hand to the small of her back, and speaks with a pointed tone.
"Aisha Laborn, I'm Director Emily Piggot. We have great deal to discuss and not much time in which to do it, but before we begin I need to ask you to keep your power under control unless I call for a demonstration."
The young Stranger, Aisha, gives Piggot's extended hand a wary look, then sighs and gives it a casual shake. When the director asks her to keep her powers suppressed, however, a sour look crosses her face and she cuts the handshake.
"Eh, I'll… try. It's sorta always-on unless I really focus on pushin' it back, and it's kinda tiring after a while. I'm already pushin' my limit here, I think, so can I just… I dunno, get a minute to relax?"
The Director scowls at this, which causes Aisha to flinch slightly, but eventually the veteran PRT leader snorts a sigh and nods.
"Very well. I've got paperwork to take care of, so take a seat over there and figure out what you need to do so that this won't be a recurring problem."
Leaning forward slightly, Director Piggot manages to tower over the young Stranger despite only being two inches taller.
"We have Stranger protocols in effect, Ms. Laborn, so it'd be in your best interests to keep your eyes and your hands to yourself while you get your affairs in order."
There's a flash of defiance in Aisha's eyes at the idea that she could be cowed by the Director so easily, but after a second of tension she casually leans her neck to the left and pops it a few times before shrugging nonchalantly and walking to the seat at the far end of the table.
"Whatevs."
Plunking down in her chair, you take note of the feeling of Aisha's power briefly washing over your mind before Industrial Survival Frame denies its ability to affect your short-term memory. Director Piggot clearly blinks in confusion for a moment before looking around with a suspicious scowl on her face. Her left hand twitches, likely in a desire to activate her headset and call for some form of backup, but she manages to restrain herself and turn back to her work. As she sits and resumes reviewing the papers currently in front of her, you issue a succinct summary to the PRT Director.
"Aisha Laborn requires focus to suppress power. Currently sitting, feet on table, opposite current location."
Director Piggot, to her credit, barely flinches at your comment and does not look up from her papers to confirm it
Aisha, on the other hand, maintains her wasteful mannerisms; lounging haphazardly in her tilted-back chair, the young Stranger has her ash-covered boots up on the table and is currently picking her nose idly, wiping her recovered nasal artifacts along the underside of the table.
After two and a half minutes of this behavior, Aisha retracts her feet and lightly brushes off the top of the table so that it's not clear that it was her that caused the mess. Leaning back - but not enough to tilt the chair - she places her hands on the back of her head casually and speaks up.
"Alright, I think I'm good now."
Director Piggot is a blur of motion for a split-second, her right hand whipping to her left side and pulling a pistol from a well-concealed holster as she leaps to her feet. The Director freezes before she fully extracts the pistol, however, and after a few tense moments filled with her heavy breathing, she slowly slides it back with a muffled snap.
"Greeted Aisha Laborn, asked to refrain from using power. Laborn explained power active by default, requires focus to suppress, requested time to reacquire focus so as not to disrupt discussion. Laborn remained seated in current location for full duration of power engagement."
The Director nods in Aisha's direction as you finish your summary, subtly acknowledging your statements while also acknowledging Aisha's presence.
"Ms. Laborn."
A massive, smug grin creeping up her face, Aisha unfolds her hands from behind her head to hold them up in a 'that's me' declaration. The Director closes her eyes in response, taking a few calming breaths to control the surge of adrenaline currently driving her heart rate up, before eventually retrieving her chair and setting it back in its former position.
Instead of resuming her seat, however, the Director walks around the table and takes a seat two chairs away from the young Stranger, much to the latter's confusion. As Director Piggot sits, however, she pulls out a lipstick-case-sized device and places it in front of her on the table so that it rests vertically. Pushing down on the device with her right index finger, a small click is heard and a small ring of green light can be faintly seen around the top and bottom edges of the device. Turning her attention to Aisha, the PRT veteran narrows her eyes and hardens her voice.
"Aisha Laborn, in exchange for everything you know about the Undersiders, their members, and their current activities, we are willing to waive all criminal charges against you, as well as the reports that you may have violated the Truce in some way when you and Weaver left the refugee camp grounds."
A flash of outrage and hurt flashes through Aisha's face, the young Stranger looking almost ready to bolt from the table before a thought stops her. Through gritted teeth, Aisha growls out an accusation at the stone-faced PRT Director.
"Robocunt ratted me out, didn't she?"
Unblinking, Director Piggot crisply shakes her head and motions with a hand for Aisha to hold.
"Dragon had sensors tracking Weaver as she left the grounds, as the Wards have been confined to the refugee camp limits. Weaver only reported that you petitioned her to allow the Undersiders - along with New Wave member Panacea and the rogue, Parian - safe passage from the camp, and that you had returned a pistol and set of PRT restraints that you had 'found' somewhere."
A quick snort from the Director punctuating her last statement gives no doubt to her own belief about where Aisha obtained the pistol and restraints, but otherwise Director Piggot remains silent after finishing her explanation. You are uncertain as to why Piggot would conceal the fact that your report laid out the full details of the encounter in the woods - as doing otherwise would have been a flagrant violation of the PRT's trust and in defiance of the law - but you consider the move a prudent one considering Aisha's likely reaction to your apparent betrayal of her trust.
In evidence of the point, Aisha visibly stills at the Director's explanation before eventually sighing and slumping back into her chair haphazardly after a tense few seconds of silence.
"Since our time is limited, I will keep this focused on what we need to know right now: was Panacea coerced, restrained, or otherwise unnaturally abducted when the Undersiders left the refugee camp with her?"
At the slight furrowing of Aisha's brow, Director Piggot's repeats the question with a bit more frustration creeping into her voice.
"Did the Undersiders kidnap Panacea, either by using powers on her or with physical force?"
Starting a bit, Aisha frowns in clear bewilderment before answering with a slightly wary voice.
"Unless you count TT figuring out that Panacea was going to lose her shit if she stayed in the camp any longer, no way. They wouldn't fuck with the Truce like that."
The Director leans forward, her elbows on the desk and hands clasped together, her voice now clearly laced with suspicion while her eyes have gained a fierce light.
"Panacea was showing signs of becoming unstable?"
Aisha, however, has clearly picked up that there is a dangerous undercurrent in the conversation but doesn't appear to quite understand it. Leaning slightly away from the Director's intense scrutiny, the young Stranger's response is far more tentative than before.
"Uh… I guess? TT was gettin' real jittery all this mornin', sayin' that we… they… needed to get Panacea the fuck outta Dodge. Regent was bitchin' that they didn't have any reason to do jack without a paycheck, but TT and br-… Grue… said they'd figure something out once they bounced."
"And there wasn't anything more on what would have happened if Panacea had remained in the camp with New Wave?"
Shaking her head, Aisha regains some of her bluster and pops her knuckles idly while settling back in her chair.
"Naw, TT jus' said Panacea was under pressure or somethin'. Bitch threw a fuss about Panacea and Parian joinin', but TT shut her up when she said Panacea could heal her dogs."
Your Lie Detector program has thus far not pinged anything Aisha has said as a falsehood or half-truth, which surprises you slightly - you weren't expecting Aisha to volunteer this information so freely. In the tense silence that hangs over the room after the last statement, you quietly relay this to the Director.
"No lies."
Nodding in confirmation of both your statement and Aisha's explanation, Director Piggot leans back, her trademark scowl now back in play.
"How much longer can you continue?"
Blinking at the non-sequitor, Aisha scrunches up her face slightly before sighing and shrugging casually.
"I'm good for a few more minutes, I figure. Still gettin' used to it."
Nodding, Director Piggot reaches over to the device and taps it again, causing its glow to wink out. After doing so, the Director leans back and crosses her arms over her chest while leveling a hard stare at Aisha.
"Now, off the record: do you think there is anything… shady… about this?"
Under your helmet you blink, while Dragon's avatar quietly shakes her head. Your own sensors are clearly still recording this entire event and the Director is fully aware that there are other recording devices in the room. You will have to save this technique for later use.
Aisha, however, visibly relaxes and smirks slightly. Giving the room a quick search with her eyes, the young Stranger shifts her weight back and forth as she ponders the idea before finally exhaling a held breath through her nose.
"Not… shady, I guess, but kinda… weird? I mean, Panacea is like, this super goody-two-shoes healer, right? She ain't got a disguise, either, so she can't jus' walk around town without a camera spotin' her. Still, when I saw TT chattin' her up she always looked… I dunno. Tired? I could see someone like her gettin' fed up with the bullshit of everyone always expectin' ya ta help out. Said her mom was losin' her shit too, so that prolly didn't help."
"And do you have any idea why Tattletale would fear Panacea becoming unstable?"
"Eh… I think TT said something about Pan being way more than a healer. I figur'd it was her talkin' up Pan bein' more than jus' a healbot, but… maybe that's it? She's like some sorta bio bomb?"
Director Piggot is as still as Dragon's avatar, and takes several long seconds before she slowly exhales a held breath through her nose. It takes Aisha herself a few moments to apparently realize the ramifications of what she's just said, her own eyes going wide at the thought.
"Oh... oh, shit. Uh, I don't think it's that bad, but… ok, yeah, I guess that'd explain why TT was gettin' real antsy. Fuck. Pan's pretty chill, too."
The Director closes her eyes for several long seconds, taking quiet, deep breaths, before opening them again and drilling Aisha with an icy stare.
"Ms. Laborn, you have only the slightest idea of how bad that outcome could be for us all if it's true. You, however, are the only one that has spent enough time around the Undersiders and Panacea in the last few days to determine of how this could play out. So I want you to think for a solid minute before you answer this next question."
Aisha's eyes are wide, though her shoulders are square with her arms crossed against her chest. A slow, silent moment passes, during which her jaw sets and the young Stanger nods in response to the Director's challenge.
"Do you feel Panacea is currently, or could soon become, a danger to humanity?"
Almost immediately, Aisha opens her mouth to retort in indignation but no sound comes out as she cuts herself off halfway. Clamping her mouth closed and looking fiercely at the table, you note a bead of sweat forming on her brow. A quick diagnostic scan notes a dramatic rise in the blood pressure around her Corona Gemma, so you whisper a quick note to Director Piggot across your open channel.
"Mental strain increasing. Power relapse expected."
As the Director moves to speak, however, Aisha looks up from her thought to catch Director Piggot's gaze with her own intense glare.
"Nope. She was gettin' better over the last few days, and my bro and TT are makin' sure it'll work."
"Truth."
Director Piggot settles back in her chair for a long, silent, pause while she keeps Aisha's gaze. Finally, she nods, though her eyes are still chips of ice.
"Very well, Ms. Laborn. As we haven't been given cause to believe that the Undersiders, Panacea, or Parian have violated the Truce, we won't be sending anyone after them at this moment. If we hear anything, however - anything - that indicates Panacea is a biological threat, then the Undersiders will be forced to give Panacea up or receive Kill Orders of their own."
Aisha's scowl wavers slightly as the full weight of what she's revealed so far hits home, but there is only a flash of doubt before her resolve hardens and she nods in understanding… and then smirks.
"Psh! Fuck, man, it's no big deal. I told you - they got their shit handled."
Director Piggot's expression twists at that, but eventually she snorts in exasperation and shakes her head.
"That's all for now on that. Do you still want Weaver be present for your Wards interview?"
A small bit of tension drains out of Aisha's shoulders, allowing her to cackle slightly as she leans back in her chair and waves an arm in dismissal at the ceiling.
"Yeah, yeah, go on and get roboward in here. She's the one who roped me in'ta this shit, so she's gotta suffer through these boring-ass talks too."
Giving the young Stranger a flat look, Director Piggot shakes her head and rises from the chair before making her way to the door. She turns briefly to Aisha as she opens the door, allowing you to slide out unnoticed as the Director gives a parting line.
"You can relax for a moment, Ms. Laborn, but remember: hands and eyes to yourself."
Director Piggot closes the door behind her, just as you feel Aisha's power wash through the area and cause the Director blink slightly. The teenaged parahuman quickly leaps to her feet in the 'empty' room, though your bugs are quick to notice Aisha sliding over to the stacks of paperwork to give them a look. As all the folders are closed Aisha's snooping yields no fruit immediately, causing her to let out a huff of frustration. Almost absent-mindedly, she reaches out to flip open one of the folders…
… but stops just before her fingers touch the manila stock. Though your bugs can't see the whole scene from their hidden vantage points, you catch a glimpse of her expression shifting through various emotions before looking around the room and withdrawing her hand, mumbling curses under her breath.
"Fuckin' bullshit. Can't even use my power like I want to."
As she mopes back to her seat, you are more preoccupied with the silent march of Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Director Piggot into another, smaller room. You follow them in, the Director clearly holding the door open a few seconds longer necessary to allow you through. After she closes it, she gives a cold stare to the two Protectorate members before pointedly calling out to the empty space around.
"Enough, Weaver."
The two Protectorate members startle slightly at the declaration and your sudden appearance in a haze of bent light, but quickly recover as the Director resumes speaking almost immediately.
"Armsmaster, I want you drawing up paperwork for a pre-approved Kill Order on Amy Dallon should any signs of her becoming a biological terrorist arise. Miss Militia, you're to deliver the news to New Wave that Panacea fled the camp under her own power and without coercion. Weaver, we're going back in there and you are going to make sure this walking disaster goes with you to Philadelphia - or the other side of the country, if you can manage it."
Miss Milita's eyes go wide at the Director's first statement, though Armsmaster's jaw clenches as his mouth draws into a tight line. The camo-clad heroine is the first to respond, though her voice is thick with alarm.
"A Kill Order, Emily? She's just a healer!"
Director Piggot's eyes no longer hide the darkness you caught flashes of during the previous meeting, her gaze nearly becoming manic in their intensity as she stares down the taller heroine.
"Tattletale figured out she's another potential Nilbog or Bonesaw. The Undersiders fled because Panacea was growing… unstable."
Sharp inhalations of breath from both of the elder Protectorate members echo through the silence in the room, and you nod when they both look to you for confirmation.
"Experience under Panacea power. Most probable hypothesis: touch-based, cellular-level bio-manipulation. Worst-case scenario hypothesis: long-range, atomic-level bio-manipulation."
Though there is a round of silence over your hypotheses, Armsmaster responds to your supposition more quickly than you expected. Unfortunately, his frustration colors his reaction.
"New Wave was hiding this from us? In our own city?"
As the Director frowns and opens her mouth to reply, you voice a thought that has been running through a few of your minds since Aisha's revelation. Specifically regarding some of Panacea's comments during her two visits to your bedside.
"Hypothesis: only Panacea aware of power extent. Ancillary hypothesis: fear of reveal, abuse of power significant factor in mental duress."
All three look to you as you speak, though Miss Milita seems to be the first one that picks up on what you're saying first, her voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and sorrow.
"You think she's been holding it in all this time? That… could explain some of her behavior in the past…"
Director Piggot cuts off the discussion with a quick wave of her hand, her expression once again stoic and determined.
"You have your orders, and I have a prank-loving Stranger in my office. Weaver, with me. You two, I want those tasks done before the Wards pile into those vans tonight."
To their credit, Armsmaster and Miss Militia snap to attention and crisply salute Director Piggot before they turn and file out of the door. Director Piggot remains stationary and silent after having watched them leave, then shuts the door and turns back to you.
Her eyes are narrowed, searching your expressionless armored helmet for something you can't quite identify, before she draws herself up and lets out a long breath through her nose.
"Shadow Stalker's real name is Sophia Hess."
Only your primary consciousness is fazed by this abrupt declaration, the rest realizing the information for what it is: the answer to dozens of questions that have lingered in the periphery of your life for the past two years.
"Ms. Hess' actions in Winslow were neither known nor condoned by the PRT. Winslow received a stipend from the PRT as long as she attended and stayed out of trouble, and we received no reports of misconduct on Ms. Hess' behalf until your trigger event."
Emma's sudden attachment to Sophia, why the school and teachers always looked the other way, your father's attack, Shadow Stalker's sudden absence from the Wards active roster, the rest of the Wards' aversion to speaking of their teammate, why Shadow Stalker appears to have fled after the attack...
"Protectorate, Wards silence. Your order."
Director Piggot narrows her eyes slightly, but nods her head slowly before continuing.
"The plan was always to tell you once you had a chance to see the other Wards as something other than more bullies, and the PRT as more than an organization that enabled your tormentors."
You consciousnesses consider how your more emotional state of mind would have reacted to the information that Sophia was a Ward, or if you would have found out that the Wards and Protectorate members around you were concealing this fact.
"Concerns logical. Predicted emotional responses: anger, despair, mistrust."
Her eyes flickering away as a grimace stretches its way across her face, Director Piggot sighs in pinched frustration.
"Plan failure probability: high. Uncertain long-term sustainability."
Nodding to your response, the Director meets your gaze again.
"It's not one I ever plan on implementing, or ever needing to put in motion again. We've already begun taking a closer eye on Ward behavior in schools and found a few cases that were almost as bad as yours. I'm sure you're aware of how bad this can make the PRT and Wards program look if it gets out, and how much we can't afford to take that kind of reputation hit."
Once again, your minds turn to your conversations with Glenn Chambers.
"Ward recruitment tied to program reputation. Wards cornerstone program in Endbringer resistance. Concerns logical."
Giving you a questioning eye, Director Piggot's voice arches a bit as she hums in consideration.
"... and?"
"Endbringer War primary motivation. PRT primary Endbringer opposition. Continued Wards membership assured."
The Director shakes her head while snorting in an almost-laugh, a slight sinister smile starting to creep into her grim expression.
"Well, they've certainly got it out for you. I see this new personality of yours at least keeps the right priorities."
"Affirmative."
Several long moments pass as Director Piggot continues to gaze into your expressionless helmet, her posture shifting slowly as tension bleeds away to leave her at an almost-casual parade rest.
"There's too many questions flying around about you, Weaver. Now, I know you're not Taylor Hebert. Hell, you might not even be a real parahuman. Either way, I don't care. If the rest of the capes under my command had been anywhere near as proficient as you, we might have been able to turn things around in Brockton Bay years ago."
You blink, but refrain from protesting your identity. Nothing you say will change the stubborn Director's mind at this point, so you merely give her a brisk nod. She nods in return, then continues her attempt to see through your helmet as she finishes her speech.
"I expect that by the time I get a Director position again you'll be old enough to be in the Protectorate. If you're still alive at that point, look me up. The mess I'll have been saddled with will need someone to bring order to it."
Director Piggot extends a hand, which you briskly shake.
"Understood."
With a snort, the former PRT Director of Brockton Bay turns and swiftly exits the room. You follow, noting that Aisha has just finished changing the positions of every chair in the room.
A useless gesture as the chairs are all identical, but everyone has to start somewhere.
***
Retrieving a thin manilla folder from one of the shorter stacks of paperwork, Director Piggot clips a spare pen to it before sliding the folder across the table to Aisha. She uncrosses her arms, her eyes unglazing slightly after all the talk about responsibilities in the Wards, and looks to you with an arched eyebrow.
From your position next to her, in your dress costume, you give her a perfunctory nod as the Director explains the file's purpose.
"This is just the preliminary paperwork, since you'll need a representative from Pennsylvania's youth services to serve as a guardian overseeing everything, but it helps ease the transition for everyone involved."
You point out the most relevant lines in the few pages of paperwork, points which she likely didn't pay attention to during Director Piggot's speech. One line in particular draws her ire.
"Only four hundred a month? I coulda made way more than that with the Undersiders!"
Narrowing her eyes, both at the casual declaration of villainy and the fact that this protest wasn't brought up when she stated it earlier in her speech, Director Piggot gives Aisha a level glare.
"This money isn't stolen, so you won't be arrested for merely possessing it."
Aisha draws herself up to counter that rebuttal, but you place a hand on her shoulder while pointing out the Trust Fund. She deflates a bit, though there's still a line of tension running through her posture.
"Oh. Fifty gees? Eh, I guesssss… that's not too bad."
Judging by Aisha's comments prior to this about her lifestyle prior to the Behemoth attack, coupled with her attire, you suspect that there is a degree of bluster to this attitude; Aisha has likely never seen four hundred dollars together, and fifty-thousand dollars may be more than her family has had in years.
Beyond that, there is only one other issue that draws an outburst from the young Stranger.
"Hell yeah, I get to pick my own cape name?"
You detect a slight glint in Director Piggot's eye, though her expression is mostly occluded by the hands clasped in front of her face.
"We have a PR department that works with you on that, normally. However, it's ultimately up to the supervising Director's discretion when you first start your cape career."
Aisha furrows her brow in confusion, looking to you for an explanation. Your various minds have generated a hypothesis, but under the Director's watchful gaze you merely tap at the line where Aisha is to write her cape name.
Like a child given a house full of unpopped bubble wrap, Aisha's smile is the definition of 'wicked' as she jots down her chosen name. After signing the final lines, she slaps the folder closed and slides it back to the Director while leaning back and placing her hands behind her head in satisfaction.
Calmly flipping open the manila folder and double-checking everything has been signed, you note Director Piggot pause near the end. Looking up to stare at Aisha, the Director's expression is completely flat.
"Who."
Her own expression growing deeply grave, Aisha leans forward and steeples her fingers in front of her face as she leans on her elbows. In a cold, dry tone, the young Stranger rasps out her reply.
"Is on First Base."
In the quiet that follows, Director Piggot looks from Aisha, to you, then back to the teenaged Stranger. Looking down at the paper in front of her, she smoothly grasps a pen from the pile on her right and signs and dates her own signature.
Flipping the folder closed, she folds her hands atop it and gives you both a deadpan stare.
"Welcome to the Brockton Bay Wards, Ms. Laborn. My first and final order to you is this: give Director Uriel my regards."
***
You recall seeing PRT Transport Vans once or twice when the Wards or Protectorate members visited Winslow or Jefferson - your elementary school - for PR events, though you never saw the inside of them. You recall dreaming once of the vans having some form of teleporter in them, or even being larger on the inside to allow for a television and couches. Knowing what you know now, you would not be surprised to see vans or other transportation vehicles with such amenities.
The two vans the PRT has provided to transport the parahumans transferring to Philadelphia and Boston don't even have cup holders. Not that you are complaining, of course, as they are designed for armored transport, not opulent sightseeing.
With a reality-warping twist of space, Vista is the first to appear next to one of the Philadelphia vans. Quickly turning around to the rest of the procession, she slaps the side of her chosen ride.
"Girl's van."
Pointing to the other Philadelphia van, you can see the bearded driver inside is just as confused as to what is happening as most of your group is.
"Boy's van."
Assault's laughter breaks through the beginnings of the confused protests from the rest of the gathered Wards.
"Hah! Great idea! We won't have to stop every twenty minutes for bathroom breaks!"
The mixture of laughter and groans from the assembled is lost over the sound of Battery and Who - now in a standard-issue grey costume that you've tailored to match her figure - mercilessly pummelling the veteran Protectorate member. As Who has her power active, Assault is unable to defend against the knuckle-punches to his hamstrings or kidneys, causing him to yelp desperately and flee madly for the 'Boy's' van.
As your group begins to disperse for their respective vans, you note Weld take a few steps to approach you directly. He extends a large metallic hand, which you shake despite still having your gloves off from your earlier Omnitool Implants activation. As expected, you feel Weld's power pull at your skin as your hands make contact, but Industrial Survival Frame shrugs the effect of with ease.
"Best of luck, Weaver. If you need anything from Bos-"
Weld's voice cuts out as his determined expression morphs to wide-eyed shock. You can almost see a small ripple of distorted metal flow down his outstretched arm and then across his body, but the effect is quickly obscured by the darkness of the surrounding ashfall. He slowly closes his mouth, looks down to where your hands are joined, then back up to your face.
"Wha-"
You quickly retract your hand, then look down at his hand. You don't detect any irregularities in the formation, but as Weld flexes his hand experimentally you note his expression continue to morph into something akin to embarrassment.
"I- I'm sorry, Weaver, I should have realized…"
Shaking your head, you cut him off with a wave of your arm.
"Negative. Anticipated, unharmed. Status?"
You note Aisha, the Twins, and Vista have begun observing your conversation, with only Gallant having turned around to look at Weld… who has begun to stammer and clasp his hands together, rubbing his right palm with his left thumb.
"O-oh, r-right. I am yes. I mean, yes, I'm unharmed. Unhurt. Right. I'm going now. Good luck against the Endbringers."
As he turns swiftly and marches away to his own van, you ponder if your charm's counter-effect to Weld's power has affected his thought process. Your diagnostic scan continues to prove useless, feeding you incomprehensible data regarding Weld's 'biology', so it may be prudent to check in with Aegis in Boston if Weld recovers from the effect in time.
Speaking of, the armor-clad Brute strides up to your side as he brings up the rear guard of the group. He gives the larger, metal Ward a wide berth as Weld makes a beeline past him, switching his gaze between the retreating Case 53 Ward and your own form.
"Should… I ask what that was about?"
"Weld absorption power countered by own environmental resistance. Potential mental feedback as a result, recommend observation to ensure recovery."
Aegis gives you a critical eye for a moment before tilting his head and shrugging.
"I have to say, Weaver, I think I'll miss these social… not 'accidents', more like 'multi-car pile-ups.' Sure beats spending my time fighting Nazis… but I've got the experience and Boston has good colleges."
Nodding in affirmation, you turn your head slightly so that you can match Aegis' gaze.
"Education paramount. Knowledge equals power."
Chuckling to himself almost wistfully, Aegis lands a few solid, hearty pats on your back before nodding and making his way to his van.
"Keep in touch, Weaver."
Aisha, Vista, and the Twins are mumbling something as they cast furtive glances at you while loading into the van, but Battery - your chaperone for the trip - merely gives you a smirk.
"It seems you even have an effect on other Case 53s, Weaver."
"Affirmative. Research findings indicate Case 53 powers, standard trigger powers identical."
The form-fitting LED lines on her bodysuit lighting up briefly in response to her laughter, Battery places a luminescent hand on your shoulder and navigates you to the awaiting van.
"C'mon, we need to make sure we beat the boys by at least an hour or I'll never hear the end of it."
Through your swarm's senses, you note the final van occupancies as each begins the slow procession through the slippery, ash-filled night air. Your van, which you designate 'Philadelphia Van 00', contains Battery, Tatsu (Saki), Uzu (Sakura), Vista, yourself, and Who. 'Philadelphia Van 01' contains Assault, Clockblocker, Gallant, and Kid Win. The final vehicle, 'Boston Van 00', contains Aegis, Dinah, Triumph, Velocity, Weld.
With Miss Militia and Armsmaster remaining behind to help ensure peace between the remaining parahumans, you begin to plan out your ride's path through the ash-congested streets and highways from your seat in the back of the van. As there are no official time limits, you consider this an opportunity to sample New England cuisine - both as a method of lightening the team's depleted spirits, but also to expand your own culinary repertoire.
From the devious looks you are receiving from the rest of the female Wards, however, you begin to suspect that the ride will contain more diversions than culinary excursions.
***
Intimacy: Aegis/Carlos (Friendship) +1 Increase! [NOW FULL INTIMACY!]
Intimacy: Director Piggot (Grudging Trust) +1 Increase! [NOW FULL INTIMACY!]
Intimacy: Weld (Respect) +1 Increase!
Intimacy: Who/Aisha (Cautious Guardianship) +1 Increase!
Bureaucracy +1 Training Interval (5/6 Intervals)
Investigation +1 Training Interval (3/6 Intervals)
Socialize +1 Training Interval (5/6 Intervals)
Stealth +1 Training Interval (5/6 Intervals)
*Backing (PRT) ●●●○○ Now Available!
Investigation (Online Research ●○○) Gained!
Reputation (Beautiful) ●●●○○ Gained!
I sat down to write the road trip, but then all this fell out instead. Whoops! Don't worry, the votes for the Philadelphia, the road trip, and Taylor's attitude towards revealing the secrets of her exaltation are still in play - they're just taking a bit longer to get to than I originally anticipated.
Since the votes for the road trip were a little weak - and missing a stunt, even - consider this round of votes IN ADDITION to our previous choices.
Philadelphia Road Trip: We'll Get There When We Get There (Choose two, one stunt allowed for each!)
[ ] I Spy: Provide time-consuming distractions during trip to keep mind of Wards off emotional traumas.
[ ] World's Largest Bug: Divert road trip to tourist traps and sightseeing opportunities along the way.
[ ] Essence Reservoir-to-Heart: Provide counsel for a member of your caravan, getting to know them better as a mortal as well as evaluating them for Alchemical potential. (Vista already chosen, this chooses another to speak with in addition to her.)
[ ] The Mystery Machine: Solve crimes along the way to Philadelphia.
[ ] Write-In: An Amusing Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum
The previous choice is also available (does not count against two-vote limit) if people want to add a Stunt to it:
[ ] Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives: Sample New England cuisine to increase your own culinary profile. (Free choice if Stunt written.)
Please remember to format XP Expenditures properly:
[X] ? XP - Item ●●●○○
[X] ? XP - Item (Specialization ●●○)
