- Location
- Philippines
Was rereading when I found this line from Max after the meeting. It's ironic how with what we know about Joe's semblance, because all he indeed needs to render her unable to hurt him is to ignore her.
Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)
- Thread starter LordRoustabout
- Start date
- Location
- Mass
Can I also get a link to the new discord server? All the links I find just go back to the old one.
As for the story itself, I'm super excited for the chubster interlude, like, it sounds super interesting when lord broke it down! I didn't even know he had a daughter in the wards!
As for the story itself, I'm super excited for the chubster interlude, like, it sounds super interesting when lord broke it down! I didn't even know he had a daughter in the wards!
As I said: it makes sense on the macro-level. One of their primary recruiting points is that they provide protection from other sources of forced recruitment or even just straight up murderization.
Having obsessed people come after their Parahumans and succeed would be a black mark against them and a major impediment to their ability to recruit others but having them come after their Parahumans and fail is a perfect demonstration of exactly what they want others to believe; "come, look, see how the threats all around you fall before our might. Come and give yourself to us that you might be protected by it.". I'm surprised that they don't pay people to try and fail these sort of things.
...Joes glove could probably beat back the Endbringers. Possibly before he even noticed. It might recruit his Kinsect to do it. What other minor beings of Joes Workshop would be able to get in on it?
MagicalAmbitions
the rose in your vase
- Pronouns
- She/Her
the title "Girlboss" is, though, and that's the one I'm giving her.
65.2 Interlude Ben
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
(Due to time constraints I had to cut this chapter short, so we have another interlude at half its intended length. The rest of the interlude will be coming next week, after which we'll finally get back to Joe.)
65.2 Interlude Ben
Ben sat in the cafeteria of the Los Angeles Protectorate Headquarters enjoying the morning sunshine. The room was situated in the upper levels of the building that served as the city's PHQ, meaning it had an excellent view. It was one of the rare mornings when the air was clear enough to really see the city's skyline. The kind of day that reminded him why this was his favorite place, though not for the reasons everyone joked about.
Chubster. Of course the fat cape would love the place with the food. That was fine, they could joke as much as they wanted. He was the one who got to start the day having breakfast with his daughter.
Charley sat across from him dressed in her Auroch costume, with the horned helmet resting on the table between them and a basic mask over her upper face. Well, she was in the latest version of her costume. This was what, the seventh revision? He could probably make a joke about girls and clothes, but she was nearly ready to graduate to the Protectorate. Rebranding was a big part of that and it was good for her to work though different concepts before she took that step.
Really, he was proud of the hero identity she'd cultivated. Proud of her position as head of the Los Angeles Wards team. Well, head of the second team, but still, he was proud of everything she'd done to earn that role. Their cape identities couldn't have been more different, but in a way he was grateful for that. Grateful that Charley would be able to stand on her own, without any baggage from him weighing her down.
Easy setup for another fat joke. He kept it to himself as he smiled at his daughter. She rolled her eyes and gave him a tired look.
"Dad…" She chided.
"What?" He asked, the picture of innocence.
"That was another joke, right?" She asked, spearing a bite of eggs from her plate. "One you found oh so funny that you're going to save it for the perfect moment. I can tell you're just waiting to use it."
"I'll have you know my jokes are excellent." He said proudly. "I have feedback from image consultants and everything."
Charley rolled her eyes again, but had a slight smile as she turned back to her food. He took a bite of his own bacon and eggs before continuing.
"Have you given any thought to that college tour?" He asked.
"Sort of." She admitted. "I'm not sure I want to stay in California though." Meaning she'd be moving away, both in her personal and hero identity. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, but it was about what was best for her. He'd been lucky to have this time with her, especially after the divorce. Without the common ground of cape life he wondered if they would have drifted apart like so many other divorced families.
"It doesn't need to be a local tour. I've got enough leave banked up that we can fly out." He said.
"Taking leave. You. Seriously?" She said flatly.
He shrugged. It was easy enough to get away from Protectorate duties, but being on the critical situation roster was a firmer obligation. "I'm not that bad. Anyway, what were you thinking?"
She shrugged in turn. "I don't know. Since I decided to go with midyear enrollment it threw things way out of whack."
He nodded. Too many times Wards had been tracked by their education. Someone moves from one city to another when they graduate to the Protectorate and people started looking at graduations from high schools and freshmen classes in the local college. It was worse for small schools or college towns where it was easy to narrow down possibilities.
Attempts to avoid that led to all kinds of delays and shuffling in order to obscure things as much as possible. Which meant a lot of Wards missed out on a normal high school graduation, and normal start to college. Part time classes, co-op schools, remote learning, and any number of other things to throw off the scent. It didn't seem fair for kids who already gave so much to be denied a chance to graduate with their friends, to start college along with their class, to really connect to their peers. But there were plenty of things about cape life that weren't fair. That kind of educational issue was fairly minor in the grand scheme of things.
"You're still looking at music programs?" He asked. "I've been reading up on some of the possibilities."
Charley shifted, poking at the food on her plate. "Maybe as a minor." She said without looking at him. "I kind of want something more serious for my major. Maybe psychology, or poli sci, or even business."
Something serious. Meaning something that would have some weight in the Protectorate. Ben didn't doubt his daughter's ability to climb the ranks. She had the presence and people skills to do well in a leadership position. He had an outgoing attitude as well, but it was curbed by the persona he'd built up. Charley didn't have that. There was a real possibility she could end up as the head of a branch one day, or in a major role in one of the larger offices. He just wished she didn't feel the need to throw everything towards that goal.
It was something that had been growing since she triggered, since she entered the Wards. He remembered when she would talk about a career in music, even planning to start a band with her friends. Then that stalled, then dropped off entirely. It was easy to get caught up in cape life and let everything else drop away. If he realized that earlier maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad with Karen, and maybe Charley wouldn't have been caught in the middle of their separation and divorce.
Or maybe not. It was easy to try to blame one thing as the cause of everything falling apart. As it stood, things with Karen weren't great, especially after Charley moved in with him, but they were better than a lot of divorced couples. He could at least recognize that things hadn't been working and honestly say they were both happier since the divorce.
"Keep your options open. Lots of people change their majors at some point, so you don't need to lock yourself into one option." She gave him a noncommittal nod, then glanced over at the wall clock.
"Are you alright for time?" She asked. He nodded to her.
"I'm good. Plenty of time before the meeting." He said, then noticed her expression. "What is it?"
She gave him a concerned look. "It's about Apeiron, isn't it?" She asked.
He shifted uncomfortably, the words 'The Enigmatic Artificer' popping into his head. That would have been cause enough for concern if it were the only thing they'd encountered about the man. He had enough run-ins with strangers over the years to get a sense for the scope and scale of their powers. To say the name thing was off the charts didn't do it justice. It was on a level you only saw from capes that the Protectorate suppressed information about.
So the topic of the coming meeting was fairly obvious. Meetings that only included those on the critical situation roster were rarely called over a minor issue, and it was easy to guess the cause. The Protectorate and PRT had been slow to issue any blanket policies on either Apeiron or the Brockton Bay situation. Understandable with the ever changing nature of the situation, but still, people were chomping at the bit for their marching orders.
"Topic wasn't announced, but given the short notice and everything else that's been happening, yeah, it probably is." He admitted.
His daughter fished out her phone. "I set up news alerts for the city." She explained. "Flambé was convinced that we were going to be sent across the country to deal with it. You know how he gets." Chubster nodded. "I've been staying on top of things to head off his rants, or trying to at least."
"They are pulling relief forces into the city." He said. "It's not mass deployments, but they want to make a show of cleanup. Chicago has a Wards team that specialized in shakers that are being sent down." He racked his brain for the half remembered conversations from the previous night. "Don't remember who it is…"
"Tecton." Charley said. "He's a tinker with thinker support. If they want someone to clear the rubble he's one of the best options, especially with his team." She had a slight smile on her face.
"Have you met?" He asked, trying to remember if the Chicago team had any recent exercises against their group. And if he needed to have a conversation with the boy at some point.
He knew Charley could handle herself, but it was a father's nature to worry about his daughter. Particularly when she was in the public eye. Right after she triggered Ben had been particularly concerned.
Charley took after her mother in most respects, but she had inherited some aspects of his build. Not that noticeably, but enough that he had been worried about how people would treat her. He didn't want anyone making fun of his little girl.
Those had been misplaced concerns. Instead of being mocked for her weight the reactions had swung in a very different direction. He found himself needing to look up what PAWG meant and figure out why people were misspelling the word 'thick'. Because only initial concerns were misplaced. It turns out there was an entirely new set of concerns waiting for him. Unfortunately, even as a superhero, it wasn't possible for him to threaten the entire internet with a shotgun. He had to rely on PRT's public relations departments and the curation of Ward related content on major sites. As for the rest of the internet, he could only do his best to ignore it, as much as he hated that approach.
"I haven't met him." She said, and he did his best to conceal his relief. "But Gully's worked pretty closely with him. A lot of his seismic tech was developed from studying her power."
Ben nodded. He remembered Gully from more than a few training exercises. She was a lovely girl and actually did more to handle the organization of the matches than Spire did. He'd be the last person to hold someone's appearance against them, but he understood why she was being kept out of the leadership position. Though judging by his daughter's reaction, he was guessing the rumors about the girl were true.
"She's gone to Brockton Bay?" He asked. Charley nodded.
"Heard it from Spire who heard it from Facetime who talked with her the night of the attack." She explained. She dropped her eyes, poking at the food on her plate. "Do you think Apeiron would be able to help her? Or the other Case 53s?"
His face dropped at the question. "I don't know. Nobody's been able to manage effective treatment before, and he wouldn't be the first tinker to run into problems when working with that." You saw things when working in S-class response. Not everything they were deployed to was an Endbringer level event. Sometimes it was just bad at a level beyond local forces. He'd personally seen the aftereffects of Lab Rat's attempted 'treatments' for case 53s. It wasn't something he was keen to share with his daughter.
That didn't change the fact that Gully, that sweet girl, was running around a disaster area trying to get in contact with one of the least accessible capes on the planet. And was apparently acting completely without sanction. There were a million things that could go wrong and the barest sliver of a chance for her to get help. But apparently that was enough.
"I hope she stays safe." He said, giving his daughter a direct look without saying anything more. She let out a breath and rolled her eyes.
"I'm not planning on going either." She said with a mildly frustrated glare. "I mean, can you imagine Flambé doing disaster relief?" He couldn't hold back a smile at that.
"I'm sure you could manage things, if you needed to." He assured her.
"But I don't need to. They have better people for that." There was a significant pause while she looked at her plate. Finally she looked up at him and asked directly. "Are they going to send you to Brockton Bay?"
He let out a slow breath as Charley's concerns fell into place. "Probably not." It wasn't the answer she was looking for, but it was the best he could give. "They didn't declare an S-Class threat for the Ungodly Hour, and retroactively changing that won't trigger a deployment. From everything I've heard things are largely settled."
"Not completely." She said, showing him an article on her phone. It was from that morning, probably from her news alerts. He quickly skimmed the headline and opening paragraph, his stomach twisting as he read.
"People already knew Bakuda got away." He said. The status of her hostages confirmed she was still alive, though the question of her prognosis was anyone's guess. "Her reaching out like that isn't going to change the broader situation."
That was true for the most part, but it would be hell for the local offices and the PRT as a whole. Bakuda has sent out a message that morning to both the PRT and various news agencies, officially opening negotiations. She even had a goodwill offer, ten hostages that could be released without retribution from her.
It sounded massive, but really just brought national attention back to an aspect of the disaster that people were doing their best to downplay. The ten people she was offering to release was barely more than one percent of the total being held. Seven hundred and eighty four in the 'holding camp' set up in one of Brockton Bay's parks, and an unknown number who were suspected to be hiding in the city's blackout area.
Bakuda had shined a spotlight onto a glaring problem with no solution that anyone wanted to entertain. The idea that they wouldn't take her up on the offer was unthinkable, but that meant selection and then pressure to secure more releases. Really, it was the most basic aspect of hostage taking, but it seemed it only took a shred of basic competence to upset the stage in that city.
That wasn't fair, not really. The hell that city had gone through, well, there was probably a decent case for calling in S-Class responders from the critical situation roster well ahead of the Ungodly Hour. Just the fact that the event ended up with a name like that was evidence that things had become well out of hand.
Outside the city it was hard to really appreciate what was happening. They were so extreme, and so widely publicized that the scope tended to get lost in the media coverage. He's seen the shock at the severity of the situation give way to a kind of tired acceptance that Brockton Bay just was that kind of place. That the craziness was normal for them, and thus nothing anyone should get worked up about.
The Flashbang meme was probably the best example of that. The Protectorate image department was doing their best to squash and discourage it, but of course that only made it grow. It was simple, pair overpowered cape with joke name. Or take cape with joke name and show how overpowered they were. Really, it was inevitable given the fact that a blaster like that was going by Flashbang.
The Protectorate was about integrating capes with the civilian community. It was great to have the invincible gods waiting to swoop in to save the day, but for the most part they needed capes to be human and approachable. They didn't need a meme mocking how deadly even comical capes were, especially in the aftermath of the Ungodly Hour.
He had been subjected to a full lecture on the subject, just because he showed up in one of the more popular versions of the meme. Footage from years ago, during a fight he barely remembered. His kinetic powers were stronger the slower he moved. Usually that didn't lead to that many dramatic moments. He wasn't a cape who ended up on a lot of highlight reels. That event had been different.
A slow movement can conceal a lot of power when you get the right leverage. The footage in question was from a rather bad brawl that had wrecked a building site. It just so happened to give him the opportunity to grab the end of a forty foot long I-beam and swing it like a bat. There had been some Babe Ruth jokes at the time, but it died off fairly quickly, only to resurge with the meme in question.
He took a breath and shook his head. "That situation, it's going to be messy for the local branch, but it's not something they'll send us in over." He explained. "It might mean things are actually winding down." He didn't like thinking about the kind of deal that would need to be made to get those people free, but their families undoubtedly valued the safety of their loved ones over getting their pound of flesh from the villain responsible.
She gave him a weak nod as she put away her phone. "You're worried about me being sent there." She didn't meet his eyes, but gave a slight shrug. "Come on." He said, trying to put some levity into his voice. "You know your old man's tough enough."
The humor fell flat. He took a breath and tried again. "Look, nobody's being scrambled today. They don't book morning meetings, even short notice ones, for emergency deployment."
"But they might." She said. "I know about advance briefings, and everyone saw what happened on Thursday."
Ben sank back in his seat. A consequence of having a daughter on the leadership track in the Protectorate was she really understood what it meant to be on the critical situation roster. The kinds of situations you could get sent into when you volunteered to combat A and S class threats.
"I know you worry, but it's not like the Endbringers." He said quietly. She nodded. Despite deploying to every domestic Endbringer attack for nearly a decade, he wasn't actually that good against them. His powers were much better suited to the more general threats that responders got scrambled to.
"The next Endbringer is almost due." She said in a low voice. "It'll be Behemoth or Leviathan. People are saying probably Leviathan." He could see the concern in her eyes.
"You know it's not that bad." He said softly. "They don't just throw bodies at Endbringers. Yeah, I'm not going toe to toe with any of them, but they know that's not a possibility. They need people to stay back and provide support."
"With the other two, sure." She said. "But with Leviathan, how he moves, and the waves…"
He shook his head. Honestly, he hated the fact that she had access to recordings of Endbringer fights. There was a reason they kept that away from the public.
"Even for Leviathan. Cities have shields. They hold back the waves, let us work. I'm never more than damage control or recovery." He assured her.
Really, it was an empty assurance. Not every city had shields, and not all of them functioned at full capacity. Leviathan moved like lightning and could cut his way through a battle line like nothing. He'd come too close to comfort more times that he could count, forced to run for his life. And he had no durability when he was running.
The idea that you could stay out of the way at an Endbringer fight was wishful thinking, and what you dealt with away from the front or in the aftermath was barely better than being in the thick of things. Digging through an irradiated landscape for survivors after Behemoth had been driven off was not the kind of experience he wished on anyone, but that paled in comparison to Simurgh attacks.
He couldn't fly and had no mover powers. Obviously he wasn't going anywhere near the Simurgh's scream. No, his job was assisting evacuation. Assisting with it right until it became too late. Then his job shifted to containment. If you wanted to talk about hellish work, that took the cake. The memories of what he'd had to do in Madison didn't have a place on a day as bright as this. S-Class threats had epidemic protocols, and those got messy.
Maybe it was for the best that he and Karen weren't together anymore. No one should have to deal with the aftermath of something like that, not even vicariously.
Instead he buried those thoughts and smiled at his daughter. "You know I can handle myself." His grin widened. "After all, you're talking to someone who beat Alexandria in an arm-wrestling match."
He saw his daughter huff in exasperation and roll her eyes. "Seriously Dad? This story again?" Her frustration had at least temporarily banished the concerns that seemed to have been haunting her.
"Hey, it's a good story. How many people can say they're stronger than Alexandria?" He said with a smug smirk.
Charley snorted. "The way I hear it she just got fed up and gave up." She scrunched her nose. "I mean, was it seriously fifteen minutes?"
"Hey, getting the other person to give up counts as victory. A win's a win." His daughter shook her head, but he saw a slight smile on her face.
It might be the fun story that he shared to break the ice, but the reality was a lot closer than that. His power was complicated. It wasn't exactly strength or durability so much as kinetic manipulation. There was an inverse relationship between his speed and momentum. The slower he moved the harder he was to stop, or to damage. As long as he kept moving and didn't completely stop he could maintain the effect.
Really, that 'win' was down to luck. If Alexandria had just held fast he would never have been able to budge her. If she went for an immediate win he would have lost in an instant. Instead she had given a little to test his strength.
After that it was all over.
To stop a moving object you have to slow it. The more she slowed him, the more momentum he gained and the more force she needed to slow him. For him it was always the challenge, moving slowly and smoothly enough to get the most out of his power. In that match everything lined up in his favor. He was winning. Winning by fractions of millimeters at a time, but winning all the same.
It hadn't actually taken fifteen minutes. That was the estimated time it would have taken to achieve victory at the rate he was moving. Once the results were clear Alexandria tapped out with grace, and Chubster got the story of a lifetime.
The next day she had spoken to him about the critical situation roster. In a way, his entire career had grown from that match.
"Slow and steady." Charley said sarcastically. "Like your Tai Chi."
"My Tai Chi is awesome." He said. "Even Apeiron knows it. You saw the video."
"Yeah, but he looked good when he did it." She snarked.
"Well, excuse me for not jumping off missiles. Some of us are traditionalists." He gave her an exaggerated look of mock offense. Charley met his eyes for a moment, then tried to bury a fit of giggles, taking a sip of her orange juice to cover for herself.
That had actually been quite the shock when he saw it. Tai Chi wasn't exactly a popular form of combat martial art. Honestly, it was barely a martial art, but for him it was perfect. He might not be the picture of grace in his practice, but with constant motion and slow, continuous movements there couldn't have been a better fit.
It also helped him keep a clear head. In the middle of a pitched battle it was easy to freeze up or try to run. For him either option would be a death sentence. Stationary or sprinting, he was no tougher than a normal person. It was why his costume was armored. His power was just too inconsistent.
Not that he couldn't sprint when he needed to. His size actually helped with some aspects of his power, particularly the momentum enhancement. The more it had to start with, the easier it was to get it to a usable level. Despite his size, he was fairly healthy. As if a person on the critical situation roster could afford to be out of shape. He was proud to say that, while he wasn't mostly muscle, he had a decent level of strength, and very low visceral fat.
Also, not that much junk food, beyond the odd promotional item. Honestly, he wouldn't have thought he'd be the best spokesperson for any food brand, but apparently the public trusted his palate when it came to snacks. It wasn't a notion he was about to disabuse them of, not as long as the promotional checks kept coming in.
The brief moment of levity was passing and he could see the concerns resurfacing behind Charley's eyes. Not for the first time he wondered about stepping back from things. Leaving the critical situation roster and letting someone else deal with the S-Class threats. It would mean a pay cut, but that wasn't the reason he had stuck with it.
Well, not the entire reason. Divorce was already a mess in California without getting cape dynamics into it. Try calculating alimony based on effectively undeclared income from a split identity. Base pay, critical roster pay, danger bonuses, and then the highly inconsistent promotions and merchandising revenue, both of which were tied to popularity factors and marketing pushes.
He'd never gotten national recognition, but his merchandise did alright in L.A. and through parts of California. That Chubster plush toy had been a surprisingly big seller, probably because he was blessed with a body type naturally compatible with stuffed toy technology.
Still, merchandise and promotional offers surged when a cape got the spotlight, then dropped off substantially. Sometimes you got lucky, like being part of a major win just as a new item or merchandise dropped, which also happened to be in the Christmas season. That had brought in enough royalties to fill Charley's college fund, but windfalls like that were completely random.
It wasn't just the higher pay. The critical situation roster brought a level of prestige that came from working with the top capes of your branch. Alexandria, well, he wouldn't say she thought especially highly of him. The Triumvirate was on a different level than most capes. But there was a recognition and an acknowledgement of ability. He was a fixture on the team, someone who could be depended on.
It was the kind of prestige that had side benefits. He couldn't really deny that his situation had helped Charley's visibility. It made sure she was known enough to not fall through the cracks. She had earned her position through her own efforts, but he helped make sure she had the chance to prove herself.
Aside from all of that, there was the actual work. The kind of missions you got assigned to on the critical situation roster weren't pleasant, but they were the kinds of situations that would get a lot less pleasant if they weren't dealt with immediately. Deployments were a lot more common that anyone realized. Basically, if you heard about a situation that needed responder action it had probably gotten beyond the point anyone wanted to think about.
They were the kind of missions where they needed every cape they could get. Sure, he was a bad matchup for the Endbringers, but the Endbringers weren't the only threats out there. He couldn't forgive himself if his absence turned out to be the tipping point, the thing that resulted in a situation spilling over beyond the point where they could contain it. Where it would impact other fathers, other daughters.
No, this wasn't the kind of work you walked away from. He had seen too much of what was out there. He went on S-Class responses to make sure there would be a place waiting for him where he could play the fat, goofy joke cape that nobody took seriously.
His mood was starting to mirror his daughters, so he fished for a change of topic. "So, if we do get that college tour set up, do you want to look into other Protectorate offices as well?" He asked.
He saw her expression shift to a hint of interest. "That's possible? It's not going to give things away?"
"Not if we stay at the high levels." He said. He'd probably need to call in some favors for it, and to avoid it turning into a publicity event with every stop, but he could manage. "If you'll be rolling up to the Protectorate, assuming you'll be leaving L.A., it would be good to get a sense of the local office."
She smiled as she thought it over. "I think I'd like that." She said. "I know some people push for smaller branches when they get out of the Wards, but I don't want to get stuck in a remote posting."
"Places like that can be good for building up experience, and if you're only there for college you have a natural path out." He offered. "And it's easier to rebrand at a new division, rather than the one where you served as a Ward. Where were you thinking of applying?"
The conversation thankfully shifted to less contentious topics. No mentions of Apeiron, or the hostages with bombs in their heads, or a potential S-Class deployment to the other side of the country. Just a father and daughter discussing future plans, with a side of hero work thrown in.
The conversation must have dragged on because they found themselves with empty plates as a woman in a golden mask with matching plates on her chest and shoulders entered the cafeteria. It was a full mask molded like a female face with loose black cloth draping down from it and the other armored panels.
Charley spotted her first and quickly rose to her feet as the woman approached. "Arbiter! It's good to see you."
"Good to see you too." The golden masked cape said warmly. "I was on my way to the meeting and thought I'd collect your father."
"Ah, duty calls, I suppose." He said, climbing to his feet.
"Sorry for keeping you." She said, quickly collecting her helmet. "I should get ready for patrol."
"I know there aren't many left from my time there, but give my best to the Wards." Arbiter called as Charley secured her helmet.
"I will. And congratulations on joining the critical roster." She said with a wave as she hurried out of the cafeteria.
He couldn't see anything of her face, but Ben had the feeling that Arbiter was smiling. "I can't believe she's leading a team already. She joined right after I made leader myself."
"Trying to make me feel old?" He joked. "Because it's working."
She nodded slightly. "She's a good kid."
"You'll get no argument from me." He said with a broad grin. "Now, any idea what this is about?" He asked as they began to make their way through the halls.
"Brockton Bay, though I suppose that was fairly obvious." She replied as they walked.
"It does seem to be the popular topic lately." He joked. "Always finding a way to get back in the headlines."
"I doubt that's their intention." She said.
"Probably not. A solid week of national headlines is bad for a city's health." He replied. "Any hints beyond general panic? They finally laying down the law?"
"In terms of policy, maybe? In terms of deployment, I haven't been getting that sense." She said.
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Any other senses you've been getting? A Riot Sense perhaps?"
The woman let out a frustrated huff. "For the last week I've been as scrambled as anyone."
"March." He said coldly.
"March." She spat. "I swear, the effect spread further than it had any right to. I was getting junk results on matters that had almost nothing to do with her case."
He nodded grimly. "Lots of people dropped the ball on that. Even New York. To think they had someone like that chasing after their Wards for over a year…"
"We can't really fault them for missing something that the rest or the Protectorate couldn't find." Arbiter said. "Though the way they run their Wards teams on the East coast…"
Ben shook his head. "I don't think most cities are like Brockton Bay. At least I hope not."
They seemed to be something of a special case, or at least he hoped they were, given the stories about how they deployed their young capes. An account of the major conflicts of someone like Lung should not include him being driven off by a team of Wards. He was glad that Charley wasn't taking a team to the city. Given the state of things that might be selfish of him, but there were some things where you just didn't put children at risk.
"Things have cleared up since Thursday night, but my power isn't the best for precision." She explained.
"Anything you can share?" He prodded.
She tilted her head at him. "This will probably come out at the meeting, but for Apeiron himself? Closest circle is blue."
"Blue?" He said in surprise.
"I know." She answered in the same tone. "Closest people to him are almost no threat. Not cyan, so will probably respond if provoked, but not going to cause trouble on their own."
"Who would that even be?" He asked. "The Undersiders? Or support staff?"
Arbiter shrugged. "I couldn't say, but it jumps right after that: orange, then red, then down to yellow."
Ben almost stopped walking at the news. "That's quite a shift." He said, focusing on keeping his stride.
She nodded in response. "It's serious, but at least there's a level of separation between him and the peak risks. I know other thinkers are looking into things, and they're more precise than me, but I haven't seen any of their results."
"I guess we'll just need to find out at the meeting like everyone else." He said.
She glanced out the window, tracking shapes moving over the city's skyline. "Looks like they're almost here."
He followed her gaze. "Sunstreak. Breakout." He noted the two capes as they swooped towards the roof or the building. "And looks like Sideswipe." She tilted her head and he pointed to the red and blue speck rapidly closing from the distance. "Looks like he's making up time. No sign of Alexandria. She already in the building?"
"In her office, last I saw." Arbiter explained.
"Blessings of the Noctis cape." He quipped as they moved into the final hallway. The meeting room was even higher than the cafeteria, designed to look out over as much of the city as possible. It gave a grand sweeping view of the area they were supposed to protect in a way that was probably supposed to be poetic, but always made Ben regret his last meal.
It was also connected to the landing pads, officially for helicopters, but mainly used by flying capes. Ben hated it out there. Every problem with the meeting room, but with the added benefit of a lack of railings and perpetual high winds. He could withstand them as long as he kept his speed down, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the experience.
So when he heard the door to the landing pads slam open with a gust of wind he was already on edge even before the cry of "Heads up!" came echoing down the hallway.
Ben didn't freeze. He had drilled that instinct out of himself. Instead he sank into a more stable stance and made sure to maintain a slow, continuous movement. Even the sudden sense of motion didn't cause him to flinch. Instead he noted the faint impact to his left side, and then the crashing sound as Sideswipe bounced off him and plowed into the wall of the hallway.
"What the hell?" Cried the unfortunately unharmed cape. "Can't your fat ass move out of the way." He looked at the cracked and splintered paneling from the point of his impact. "Look at this fucking mess."
Ben worked to keep his cool, something he had a lifetime of experience with. Sideswipe was an Alexandria package from the Midwest, the star of his local office who apparently signed on for a transfer the first chance he got. He seemed to be under the impression that participation in the critical situation roster was a point of prestige, rather than a condition of his transfer.
It was an unfortunate fact that flying brutes were basically the cannon fodder in the types of situations they ran into. Not everyone was as tough as Alexandria, but everyone needed to function like Alexandria. Flyers dropped like flies around the kinds of things they were likely to face. The realistic appraisal of the man's future made it easier to deal with the massive chip on his shoulder.
"Sorry, didn't see you coming." He said completely cheerfully, oblivious to the daggers being stared at him. A jovial attitude, combined with the impression of his build, was usually enough to disarm most conflicts. It largely worked here, with Sideswipe's expression shifting from anger to disgust. He looked over to Arbiter for support and apparently decided her expressionless mask and slight head tilt counted as a vote of confidence.
"Whatever." He looked at the damage again, then brushed himself off before heading into the meeting room.
"Alexandria's not going to like that." Arbiter said, looking at the fractured wall.
Ben shrugged. "She's dealt with worse than him before. Lex knows how to manage hotheads. You know that."
Arbiter inclined her head again as they continued to the meeting room. Inside, Sideswipe was settling into his seat while Sunstreak and Breakout sat at opposite sides of the table from each other. The director's chair was still empty, but various other members of the roster were already settled. Usher, Hillmover, Máscaras, and Burnout were already settled. People he had worked with, sometimes for years.
It was enough history that he could pick up on the mood. The fact that it wasn't an emergency alert combined with a frantic briefing while awaiting pickup from Strider was an unquestionably good sign. That said, it was still far from reassuring. Full meeting at extremely short notice was never a good sign, though when your boss didn't sleep there was always the possibility she had just overlooked the fact that most people didn't enjoy waking up to a short notice summons.
If this was just a briefing it was probably information that had already been reviewed on the east coast. Their morning meeting was hardly early by New Hampshire standards. They might even be seeing some local action roll out as they spoke.
But that was all just blind speculation. He had nothing to go on but past experience, and Brockton Bay had seemed determined to do everything it could to throw out every precedent for how cape conflicts were supposed to function, and not just from the actions of Apeiron. The more details that came to light about that city the worse things looked. Just from highlights of the past year Ben could see a half dozen cases that could justify external interference, but nothing had been requested.
How did a city even get to that point? Sure, it had gang troubles, loads of cities did. But gangs that entrenched, that powerful, and that brutal, that was something that typically warranted some level of intervention.
Providing you actually knew about it. Brockton Bay had been a normal department, right up to the point when it wasn't. It had even been a tourist destination, bringing in sightseers for the local cape scene. That was something that would never have stood if people knew the level of conflict the city was seeing. He could only guess they had a very cooperative local media and an online community that was skeptical about local claims.
He wondered how common that kind of thing was. How many directors would downplay a growing serious situation rather than admit the severity of it. Honestly, with the mindset you typically saw in PRT directors it probably wasn't even a conscious choice. Just a series of temporary corrective measures that ended up a lot less temporary as time went on. A few years of that and what would you have?
Well, you'd have a situation like Brockton Bay, though probably without Apeiron complicating things beyond the bounds of logic. Depending on who you asked that could either be a blessing, or doom your city to devastation and chaos.
The sound of the door opening drew Ben out of his musings as a tall woman in gray and black entered the room, her cape sweeping behind her. Ben's mind briefly jumped back to the early theories about Apeiron's parentage. It was something that probably seemed a lot funnier to people who'd never met Alexandria.
Fortunately, that already shaky explanation had fallen apart completely in the quagmire of uncertainty that followed the man after his demonstration on Thursday night. Nobody knew exactly what was happening in that video, but there was certainly no convenient way to trace it to Alexandria and Hero.
Alexandria took her position at the head of the table, looking over the assembled capes. "Now, before we begin, does anyone want to tell me who broke my wall?"
There was a pregnant pause as Sideswipe slowly worked up the nerve to respond. "Sorry, rough landing."
She leveled a stern gaze at him through her helmet and the man seemed to wilt. "Be sure to work on that. Landings should generally conclude on the exterior platforms, rather than halfway down the hall."
He nodded sheepishly until Alexandria broke eye contact, then stared daggers at Ben. He pretended not to notice as he directed his attention towards the front of the room.
"As many of you are no doubt aware, the developing situation in Brockton Bay reached a tipping point last Thursday." She said calmly. "In fact, it would be more accurate to say that it was the cumulation of a series of tipping points leading into each other."
There were some light nods at the closest thing to humor they were likely to get during a meeting like this.
"It was hoped that in the aftermath of such an event, hostile factions and unstable elements would stand down, allowing a period of recovery where the active situation could be properly assessed." Alexandria didn't mention who it was who had presented such a hope, but it was clear she didn't think particularly highly of such a stance. Regrettably, Ben had to agree with her. Things were seldom that neat, and people's response to seeing someone knocked down was more likely to be a curb stomp than a helping hand.
"Regrettably, it seems that is not that case." She said, surprising no one. "While there has fortunately been no further action from Apeiron…" Ben could almost see the words of the man's stranger effect bounce through the heads of the other capes at the meeting. "Several critical developments have been brought to light." Her voice became slightly more serious. Alexandria was never lighthearted, but she had shades of intensity that you could pick up on. "As such, it is necessary to fully brief response teams in the event that a rapid deployment in necessary."
A ripple of unease moved around the table, but it was tinged with a level of excitement. After more than a week of rumors and speculation, they were finally getting into the real meat of the situation. A chance to find out what was happening in Brockton Bay, and the truth about Apeiron, or at least as close to it as the Protectorate had.
He knew how well Alexandria could read body language. From her slight nod she could tell what they had put together. "What I am about to present in level-four confidential, but it contains our full understanding of Apeiron, and the policies the Protectorate will be following going forward." She paused, looking across their faces, then nodded. "Let's begin."
65.2 Interlude Ben
Ben sat in the cafeteria of the Los Angeles Protectorate Headquarters enjoying the morning sunshine. The room was situated in the upper levels of the building that served as the city's PHQ, meaning it had an excellent view. It was one of the rare mornings when the air was clear enough to really see the city's skyline. The kind of day that reminded him why this was his favorite place, though not for the reasons everyone joked about.
Chubster. Of course the fat cape would love the place with the food. That was fine, they could joke as much as they wanted. He was the one who got to start the day having breakfast with his daughter.
Charley sat across from him dressed in her Auroch costume, with the horned helmet resting on the table between them and a basic mask over her upper face. Well, she was in the latest version of her costume. This was what, the seventh revision? He could probably make a joke about girls and clothes, but she was nearly ready to graduate to the Protectorate. Rebranding was a big part of that and it was good for her to work though different concepts before she took that step.
Really, he was proud of the hero identity she'd cultivated. Proud of her position as head of the Los Angeles Wards team. Well, head of the second team, but still, he was proud of everything she'd done to earn that role. Their cape identities couldn't have been more different, but in a way he was grateful for that. Grateful that Charley would be able to stand on her own, without any baggage from him weighing her down.
Easy setup for another fat joke. He kept it to himself as he smiled at his daughter. She rolled her eyes and gave him a tired look.
"Dad…" She chided.
"What?" He asked, the picture of innocence.
"That was another joke, right?" She asked, spearing a bite of eggs from her plate. "One you found oh so funny that you're going to save it for the perfect moment. I can tell you're just waiting to use it."
"I'll have you know my jokes are excellent." He said proudly. "I have feedback from image consultants and everything."
Charley rolled her eyes again, but had a slight smile as she turned back to her food. He took a bite of his own bacon and eggs before continuing.
"Have you given any thought to that college tour?" He asked.
"Sort of." She admitted. "I'm not sure I want to stay in California though." Meaning she'd be moving away, both in her personal and hero identity. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, but it was about what was best for her. He'd been lucky to have this time with her, especially after the divorce. Without the common ground of cape life he wondered if they would have drifted apart like so many other divorced families.
"It doesn't need to be a local tour. I've got enough leave banked up that we can fly out." He said.
"Taking leave. You. Seriously?" She said flatly.
He shrugged. It was easy enough to get away from Protectorate duties, but being on the critical situation roster was a firmer obligation. "I'm not that bad. Anyway, what were you thinking?"
She shrugged in turn. "I don't know. Since I decided to go with midyear enrollment it threw things way out of whack."
He nodded. Too many times Wards had been tracked by their education. Someone moves from one city to another when they graduate to the Protectorate and people started looking at graduations from high schools and freshmen classes in the local college. It was worse for small schools or college towns where it was easy to narrow down possibilities.
Attempts to avoid that led to all kinds of delays and shuffling in order to obscure things as much as possible. Which meant a lot of Wards missed out on a normal high school graduation, and normal start to college. Part time classes, co-op schools, remote learning, and any number of other things to throw off the scent. It didn't seem fair for kids who already gave so much to be denied a chance to graduate with their friends, to start college along with their class, to really connect to their peers. But there were plenty of things about cape life that weren't fair. That kind of educational issue was fairly minor in the grand scheme of things.
"You're still looking at music programs?" He asked. "I've been reading up on some of the possibilities."
Charley shifted, poking at the food on her plate. "Maybe as a minor." She said without looking at him. "I kind of want something more serious for my major. Maybe psychology, or poli sci, or even business."
Something serious. Meaning something that would have some weight in the Protectorate. Ben didn't doubt his daughter's ability to climb the ranks. She had the presence and people skills to do well in a leadership position. He had an outgoing attitude as well, but it was curbed by the persona he'd built up. Charley didn't have that. There was a real possibility she could end up as the head of a branch one day, or in a major role in one of the larger offices. He just wished she didn't feel the need to throw everything towards that goal.
It was something that had been growing since she triggered, since she entered the Wards. He remembered when she would talk about a career in music, even planning to start a band with her friends. Then that stalled, then dropped off entirely. It was easy to get caught up in cape life and let everything else drop away. If he realized that earlier maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad with Karen, and maybe Charley wouldn't have been caught in the middle of their separation and divorce.
Or maybe not. It was easy to try to blame one thing as the cause of everything falling apart. As it stood, things with Karen weren't great, especially after Charley moved in with him, but they were better than a lot of divorced couples. He could at least recognize that things hadn't been working and honestly say they were both happier since the divorce.
"Keep your options open. Lots of people change their majors at some point, so you don't need to lock yourself into one option." She gave him a noncommittal nod, then glanced over at the wall clock.
"Are you alright for time?" She asked. He nodded to her.
"I'm good. Plenty of time before the meeting." He said, then noticed her expression. "What is it?"
She gave him a concerned look. "It's about Apeiron, isn't it?" She asked.
He shifted uncomfortably, the words 'The Enigmatic Artificer' popping into his head. That would have been cause enough for concern if it were the only thing they'd encountered about the man. He had enough run-ins with strangers over the years to get a sense for the scope and scale of their powers. To say the name thing was off the charts didn't do it justice. It was on a level you only saw from capes that the Protectorate suppressed information about.
So the topic of the coming meeting was fairly obvious. Meetings that only included those on the critical situation roster were rarely called over a minor issue, and it was easy to guess the cause. The Protectorate and PRT had been slow to issue any blanket policies on either Apeiron or the Brockton Bay situation. Understandable with the ever changing nature of the situation, but still, people were chomping at the bit for their marching orders.
"Topic wasn't announced, but given the short notice and everything else that's been happening, yeah, it probably is." He admitted.
His daughter fished out her phone. "I set up news alerts for the city." She explained. "Flambé was convinced that we were going to be sent across the country to deal with it. You know how he gets." Chubster nodded. "I've been staying on top of things to head off his rants, or trying to at least."
"They are pulling relief forces into the city." He said. "It's not mass deployments, but they want to make a show of cleanup. Chicago has a Wards team that specialized in shakers that are being sent down." He racked his brain for the half remembered conversations from the previous night. "Don't remember who it is…"
"Tecton." Charley said. "He's a tinker with thinker support. If they want someone to clear the rubble he's one of the best options, especially with his team." She had a slight smile on her face.
"Have you met?" He asked, trying to remember if the Chicago team had any recent exercises against their group. And if he needed to have a conversation with the boy at some point.
He knew Charley could handle herself, but it was a father's nature to worry about his daughter. Particularly when she was in the public eye. Right after she triggered Ben had been particularly concerned.
Charley took after her mother in most respects, but she had inherited some aspects of his build. Not that noticeably, but enough that he had been worried about how people would treat her. He didn't want anyone making fun of his little girl.
Those had been misplaced concerns. Instead of being mocked for her weight the reactions had swung in a very different direction. He found himself needing to look up what PAWG meant and figure out why people were misspelling the word 'thick'. Because only initial concerns were misplaced. It turns out there was an entirely new set of concerns waiting for him. Unfortunately, even as a superhero, it wasn't possible for him to threaten the entire internet with a shotgun. He had to rely on PRT's public relations departments and the curation of Ward related content on major sites. As for the rest of the internet, he could only do his best to ignore it, as much as he hated that approach.
"I haven't met him." She said, and he did his best to conceal his relief. "But Gully's worked pretty closely with him. A lot of his seismic tech was developed from studying her power."
Ben nodded. He remembered Gully from more than a few training exercises. She was a lovely girl and actually did more to handle the organization of the matches than Spire did. He'd be the last person to hold someone's appearance against them, but he understood why she was being kept out of the leadership position. Though judging by his daughter's reaction, he was guessing the rumors about the girl were true.
"She's gone to Brockton Bay?" He asked. Charley nodded.
"Heard it from Spire who heard it from Facetime who talked with her the night of the attack." She explained. She dropped her eyes, poking at the food on her plate. "Do you think Apeiron would be able to help her? Or the other Case 53s?"
His face dropped at the question. "I don't know. Nobody's been able to manage effective treatment before, and he wouldn't be the first tinker to run into problems when working with that." You saw things when working in S-class response. Not everything they were deployed to was an Endbringer level event. Sometimes it was just bad at a level beyond local forces. He'd personally seen the aftereffects of Lab Rat's attempted 'treatments' for case 53s. It wasn't something he was keen to share with his daughter.
That didn't change the fact that Gully, that sweet girl, was running around a disaster area trying to get in contact with one of the least accessible capes on the planet. And was apparently acting completely without sanction. There were a million things that could go wrong and the barest sliver of a chance for her to get help. But apparently that was enough.
"I hope she stays safe." He said, giving his daughter a direct look without saying anything more. She let out a breath and rolled her eyes.
"I'm not planning on going either." She said with a mildly frustrated glare. "I mean, can you imagine Flambé doing disaster relief?" He couldn't hold back a smile at that.
"I'm sure you could manage things, if you needed to." He assured her.
"But I don't need to. They have better people for that." There was a significant pause while she looked at her plate. Finally she looked up at him and asked directly. "Are they going to send you to Brockton Bay?"
He let out a slow breath as Charley's concerns fell into place. "Probably not." It wasn't the answer she was looking for, but it was the best he could give. "They didn't declare an S-Class threat for the Ungodly Hour, and retroactively changing that won't trigger a deployment. From everything I've heard things are largely settled."
"Not completely." She said, showing him an article on her phone. It was from that morning, probably from her news alerts. He quickly skimmed the headline and opening paragraph, his stomach twisting as he read.
"People already knew Bakuda got away." He said. The status of her hostages confirmed she was still alive, though the question of her prognosis was anyone's guess. "Her reaching out like that isn't going to change the broader situation."
That was true for the most part, but it would be hell for the local offices and the PRT as a whole. Bakuda has sent out a message that morning to both the PRT and various news agencies, officially opening negotiations. She even had a goodwill offer, ten hostages that could be released without retribution from her.
It sounded massive, but really just brought national attention back to an aspect of the disaster that people were doing their best to downplay. The ten people she was offering to release was barely more than one percent of the total being held. Seven hundred and eighty four in the 'holding camp' set up in one of Brockton Bay's parks, and an unknown number who were suspected to be hiding in the city's blackout area.
Bakuda had shined a spotlight onto a glaring problem with no solution that anyone wanted to entertain. The idea that they wouldn't take her up on the offer was unthinkable, but that meant selection and then pressure to secure more releases. Really, it was the most basic aspect of hostage taking, but it seemed it only took a shred of basic competence to upset the stage in that city.
That wasn't fair, not really. The hell that city had gone through, well, there was probably a decent case for calling in S-Class responders from the critical situation roster well ahead of the Ungodly Hour. Just the fact that the event ended up with a name like that was evidence that things had become well out of hand.
Outside the city it was hard to really appreciate what was happening. They were so extreme, and so widely publicized that the scope tended to get lost in the media coverage. He's seen the shock at the severity of the situation give way to a kind of tired acceptance that Brockton Bay just was that kind of place. That the craziness was normal for them, and thus nothing anyone should get worked up about.
The Flashbang meme was probably the best example of that. The Protectorate image department was doing their best to squash and discourage it, but of course that only made it grow. It was simple, pair overpowered cape with joke name. Or take cape with joke name and show how overpowered they were. Really, it was inevitable given the fact that a blaster like that was going by Flashbang.
The Protectorate was about integrating capes with the civilian community. It was great to have the invincible gods waiting to swoop in to save the day, but for the most part they needed capes to be human and approachable. They didn't need a meme mocking how deadly even comical capes were, especially in the aftermath of the Ungodly Hour.
He had been subjected to a full lecture on the subject, just because he showed up in one of the more popular versions of the meme. Footage from years ago, during a fight he barely remembered. His kinetic powers were stronger the slower he moved. Usually that didn't lead to that many dramatic moments. He wasn't a cape who ended up on a lot of highlight reels. That event had been different.
A slow movement can conceal a lot of power when you get the right leverage. The footage in question was from a rather bad brawl that had wrecked a building site. It just so happened to give him the opportunity to grab the end of a forty foot long I-beam and swing it like a bat. There had been some Babe Ruth jokes at the time, but it died off fairly quickly, only to resurge with the meme in question.
He took a breath and shook his head. "That situation, it's going to be messy for the local branch, but it's not something they'll send us in over." He explained. "It might mean things are actually winding down." He didn't like thinking about the kind of deal that would need to be made to get those people free, but their families undoubtedly valued the safety of their loved ones over getting their pound of flesh from the villain responsible.
She gave him a weak nod as she put away her phone. "You're worried about me being sent there." She didn't meet his eyes, but gave a slight shrug. "Come on." He said, trying to put some levity into his voice. "You know your old man's tough enough."
The humor fell flat. He took a breath and tried again. "Look, nobody's being scrambled today. They don't book morning meetings, even short notice ones, for emergency deployment."
"But they might." She said. "I know about advance briefings, and everyone saw what happened on Thursday."
Ben sank back in his seat. A consequence of having a daughter on the leadership track in the Protectorate was she really understood what it meant to be on the critical situation roster. The kinds of situations you could get sent into when you volunteered to combat A and S class threats.
"I know you worry, but it's not like the Endbringers." He said quietly. She nodded. Despite deploying to every domestic Endbringer attack for nearly a decade, he wasn't actually that good against them. His powers were much better suited to the more general threats that responders got scrambled to.
"The next Endbringer is almost due." She said in a low voice. "It'll be Behemoth or Leviathan. People are saying probably Leviathan." He could see the concern in her eyes.
"You know it's not that bad." He said softly. "They don't just throw bodies at Endbringers. Yeah, I'm not going toe to toe with any of them, but they know that's not a possibility. They need people to stay back and provide support."
"With the other two, sure." She said. "But with Leviathan, how he moves, and the waves…"
He shook his head. Honestly, he hated the fact that she had access to recordings of Endbringer fights. There was a reason they kept that away from the public.
"Even for Leviathan. Cities have shields. They hold back the waves, let us work. I'm never more than damage control or recovery." He assured her.
Really, it was an empty assurance. Not every city had shields, and not all of them functioned at full capacity. Leviathan moved like lightning and could cut his way through a battle line like nothing. He'd come too close to comfort more times that he could count, forced to run for his life. And he had no durability when he was running.
The idea that you could stay out of the way at an Endbringer fight was wishful thinking, and what you dealt with away from the front or in the aftermath was barely better than being in the thick of things. Digging through an irradiated landscape for survivors after Behemoth had been driven off was not the kind of experience he wished on anyone, but that paled in comparison to Simurgh attacks.
He couldn't fly and had no mover powers. Obviously he wasn't going anywhere near the Simurgh's scream. No, his job was assisting evacuation. Assisting with it right until it became too late. Then his job shifted to containment. If you wanted to talk about hellish work, that took the cake. The memories of what he'd had to do in Madison didn't have a place on a day as bright as this. S-Class threats had epidemic protocols, and those got messy.
Maybe it was for the best that he and Karen weren't together anymore. No one should have to deal with the aftermath of something like that, not even vicariously.
Instead he buried those thoughts and smiled at his daughter. "You know I can handle myself." His grin widened. "After all, you're talking to someone who beat Alexandria in an arm-wrestling match."
He saw his daughter huff in exasperation and roll her eyes. "Seriously Dad? This story again?" Her frustration had at least temporarily banished the concerns that seemed to have been haunting her.
"Hey, it's a good story. How many people can say they're stronger than Alexandria?" He said with a smug smirk.
Charley snorted. "The way I hear it she just got fed up and gave up." She scrunched her nose. "I mean, was it seriously fifteen minutes?"
"Hey, getting the other person to give up counts as victory. A win's a win." His daughter shook her head, but he saw a slight smile on her face.
It might be the fun story that he shared to break the ice, but the reality was a lot closer than that. His power was complicated. It wasn't exactly strength or durability so much as kinetic manipulation. There was an inverse relationship between his speed and momentum. The slower he moved the harder he was to stop, or to damage. As long as he kept moving and didn't completely stop he could maintain the effect.
Really, that 'win' was down to luck. If Alexandria had just held fast he would never have been able to budge her. If she went for an immediate win he would have lost in an instant. Instead she had given a little to test his strength.
After that it was all over.
To stop a moving object you have to slow it. The more she slowed him, the more momentum he gained and the more force she needed to slow him. For him it was always the challenge, moving slowly and smoothly enough to get the most out of his power. In that match everything lined up in his favor. He was winning. Winning by fractions of millimeters at a time, but winning all the same.
It hadn't actually taken fifteen minutes. That was the estimated time it would have taken to achieve victory at the rate he was moving. Once the results were clear Alexandria tapped out with grace, and Chubster got the story of a lifetime.
The next day she had spoken to him about the critical situation roster. In a way, his entire career had grown from that match.
"Slow and steady." Charley said sarcastically. "Like your Tai Chi."
"My Tai Chi is awesome." He said. "Even Apeiron knows it. You saw the video."
"Yeah, but he looked good when he did it." She snarked.
"Well, excuse me for not jumping off missiles. Some of us are traditionalists." He gave her an exaggerated look of mock offense. Charley met his eyes for a moment, then tried to bury a fit of giggles, taking a sip of her orange juice to cover for herself.
That had actually been quite the shock when he saw it. Tai Chi wasn't exactly a popular form of combat martial art. Honestly, it was barely a martial art, but for him it was perfect. He might not be the picture of grace in his practice, but with constant motion and slow, continuous movements there couldn't have been a better fit.
It also helped him keep a clear head. In the middle of a pitched battle it was easy to freeze up or try to run. For him either option would be a death sentence. Stationary or sprinting, he was no tougher than a normal person. It was why his costume was armored. His power was just too inconsistent.
Not that he couldn't sprint when he needed to. His size actually helped with some aspects of his power, particularly the momentum enhancement. The more it had to start with, the easier it was to get it to a usable level. Despite his size, he was fairly healthy. As if a person on the critical situation roster could afford to be out of shape. He was proud to say that, while he wasn't mostly muscle, he had a decent level of strength, and very low visceral fat.
Also, not that much junk food, beyond the odd promotional item. Honestly, he wouldn't have thought he'd be the best spokesperson for any food brand, but apparently the public trusted his palate when it came to snacks. It wasn't a notion he was about to disabuse them of, not as long as the promotional checks kept coming in.
The brief moment of levity was passing and he could see the concerns resurfacing behind Charley's eyes. Not for the first time he wondered about stepping back from things. Leaving the critical situation roster and letting someone else deal with the S-Class threats. It would mean a pay cut, but that wasn't the reason he had stuck with it.
Well, not the entire reason. Divorce was already a mess in California without getting cape dynamics into it. Try calculating alimony based on effectively undeclared income from a split identity. Base pay, critical roster pay, danger bonuses, and then the highly inconsistent promotions and merchandising revenue, both of which were tied to popularity factors and marketing pushes.
He'd never gotten national recognition, but his merchandise did alright in L.A. and through parts of California. That Chubster plush toy had been a surprisingly big seller, probably because he was blessed with a body type naturally compatible with stuffed toy technology.
Still, merchandise and promotional offers surged when a cape got the spotlight, then dropped off substantially. Sometimes you got lucky, like being part of a major win just as a new item or merchandise dropped, which also happened to be in the Christmas season. That had brought in enough royalties to fill Charley's college fund, but windfalls like that were completely random.
It wasn't just the higher pay. The critical situation roster brought a level of prestige that came from working with the top capes of your branch. Alexandria, well, he wouldn't say she thought especially highly of him. The Triumvirate was on a different level than most capes. But there was a recognition and an acknowledgement of ability. He was a fixture on the team, someone who could be depended on.
It was the kind of prestige that had side benefits. He couldn't really deny that his situation had helped Charley's visibility. It made sure she was known enough to not fall through the cracks. She had earned her position through her own efforts, but he helped make sure she had the chance to prove herself.
Aside from all of that, there was the actual work. The kind of missions you got assigned to on the critical situation roster weren't pleasant, but they were the kinds of situations that would get a lot less pleasant if they weren't dealt with immediately. Deployments were a lot more common that anyone realized. Basically, if you heard about a situation that needed responder action it had probably gotten beyond the point anyone wanted to think about.
They were the kind of missions where they needed every cape they could get. Sure, he was a bad matchup for the Endbringers, but the Endbringers weren't the only threats out there. He couldn't forgive himself if his absence turned out to be the tipping point, the thing that resulted in a situation spilling over beyond the point where they could contain it. Where it would impact other fathers, other daughters.
No, this wasn't the kind of work you walked away from. He had seen too much of what was out there. He went on S-Class responses to make sure there would be a place waiting for him where he could play the fat, goofy joke cape that nobody took seriously.
His mood was starting to mirror his daughters, so he fished for a change of topic. "So, if we do get that college tour set up, do you want to look into other Protectorate offices as well?" He asked.
He saw her expression shift to a hint of interest. "That's possible? It's not going to give things away?"
"Not if we stay at the high levels." He said. He'd probably need to call in some favors for it, and to avoid it turning into a publicity event with every stop, but he could manage. "If you'll be rolling up to the Protectorate, assuming you'll be leaving L.A., it would be good to get a sense of the local office."
She smiled as she thought it over. "I think I'd like that." She said. "I know some people push for smaller branches when they get out of the Wards, but I don't want to get stuck in a remote posting."
"Places like that can be good for building up experience, and if you're only there for college you have a natural path out." He offered. "And it's easier to rebrand at a new division, rather than the one where you served as a Ward. Where were you thinking of applying?"
The conversation thankfully shifted to less contentious topics. No mentions of Apeiron, or the hostages with bombs in their heads, or a potential S-Class deployment to the other side of the country. Just a father and daughter discussing future plans, with a side of hero work thrown in.
The conversation must have dragged on because they found themselves with empty plates as a woman in a golden mask with matching plates on her chest and shoulders entered the cafeteria. It was a full mask molded like a female face with loose black cloth draping down from it and the other armored panels.
Charley spotted her first and quickly rose to her feet as the woman approached. "Arbiter! It's good to see you."
"Good to see you too." The golden masked cape said warmly. "I was on my way to the meeting and thought I'd collect your father."
"Ah, duty calls, I suppose." He said, climbing to his feet.
"Sorry for keeping you." She said, quickly collecting her helmet. "I should get ready for patrol."
"I know there aren't many left from my time there, but give my best to the Wards." Arbiter called as Charley secured her helmet.
"I will. And congratulations on joining the critical roster." She said with a wave as she hurried out of the cafeteria.
He couldn't see anything of her face, but Ben had the feeling that Arbiter was smiling. "I can't believe she's leading a team already. She joined right after I made leader myself."
"Trying to make me feel old?" He joked. "Because it's working."
She nodded slightly. "She's a good kid."
"You'll get no argument from me." He said with a broad grin. "Now, any idea what this is about?" He asked as they began to make their way through the halls.
"Brockton Bay, though I suppose that was fairly obvious." She replied as they walked.
"It does seem to be the popular topic lately." He joked. "Always finding a way to get back in the headlines."
"I doubt that's their intention." She said.
"Probably not. A solid week of national headlines is bad for a city's health." He replied. "Any hints beyond general panic? They finally laying down the law?"
"In terms of policy, maybe? In terms of deployment, I haven't been getting that sense." She said.
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Any other senses you've been getting? A Riot Sense perhaps?"
The woman let out a frustrated huff. "For the last week I've been as scrambled as anyone."
"March." He said coldly.
"March." She spat. "I swear, the effect spread further than it had any right to. I was getting junk results on matters that had almost nothing to do with her case."
He nodded grimly. "Lots of people dropped the ball on that. Even New York. To think they had someone like that chasing after their Wards for over a year…"
"We can't really fault them for missing something that the rest or the Protectorate couldn't find." Arbiter said. "Though the way they run their Wards teams on the East coast…"
Ben shook his head. "I don't think most cities are like Brockton Bay. At least I hope not."
They seemed to be something of a special case, or at least he hoped they were, given the stories about how they deployed their young capes. An account of the major conflicts of someone like Lung should not include him being driven off by a team of Wards. He was glad that Charley wasn't taking a team to the city. Given the state of things that might be selfish of him, but there were some things where you just didn't put children at risk.
"Things have cleared up since Thursday night, but my power isn't the best for precision." She explained.
"Anything you can share?" He prodded.
She tilted her head at him. "This will probably come out at the meeting, but for Apeiron himself? Closest circle is blue."
"Blue?" He said in surprise.
"I know." She answered in the same tone. "Closest people to him are almost no threat. Not cyan, so will probably respond if provoked, but not going to cause trouble on their own."
"Who would that even be?" He asked. "The Undersiders? Or support staff?"
Arbiter shrugged. "I couldn't say, but it jumps right after that: orange, then red, then down to yellow."
Ben almost stopped walking at the news. "That's quite a shift." He said, focusing on keeping his stride.
She nodded in response. "It's serious, but at least there's a level of separation between him and the peak risks. I know other thinkers are looking into things, and they're more precise than me, but I haven't seen any of their results."
"I guess we'll just need to find out at the meeting like everyone else." He said.
She glanced out the window, tracking shapes moving over the city's skyline. "Looks like they're almost here."
He followed her gaze. "Sunstreak. Breakout." He noted the two capes as they swooped towards the roof or the building. "And looks like Sideswipe." She tilted her head and he pointed to the red and blue speck rapidly closing from the distance. "Looks like he's making up time. No sign of Alexandria. She already in the building?"
"In her office, last I saw." Arbiter explained.
"Blessings of the Noctis cape." He quipped as they moved into the final hallway. The meeting room was even higher than the cafeteria, designed to look out over as much of the city as possible. It gave a grand sweeping view of the area they were supposed to protect in a way that was probably supposed to be poetic, but always made Ben regret his last meal.
It was also connected to the landing pads, officially for helicopters, but mainly used by flying capes. Ben hated it out there. Every problem with the meeting room, but with the added benefit of a lack of railings and perpetual high winds. He could withstand them as long as he kept his speed down, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the experience.
So when he heard the door to the landing pads slam open with a gust of wind he was already on edge even before the cry of "Heads up!" came echoing down the hallway.
Ben didn't freeze. He had drilled that instinct out of himself. Instead he sank into a more stable stance and made sure to maintain a slow, continuous movement. Even the sudden sense of motion didn't cause him to flinch. Instead he noted the faint impact to his left side, and then the crashing sound as Sideswipe bounced off him and plowed into the wall of the hallway.
"What the hell?" Cried the unfortunately unharmed cape. "Can't your fat ass move out of the way." He looked at the cracked and splintered paneling from the point of his impact. "Look at this fucking mess."
Ben worked to keep his cool, something he had a lifetime of experience with. Sideswipe was an Alexandria package from the Midwest, the star of his local office who apparently signed on for a transfer the first chance he got. He seemed to be under the impression that participation in the critical situation roster was a point of prestige, rather than a condition of his transfer.
It was an unfortunate fact that flying brutes were basically the cannon fodder in the types of situations they ran into. Not everyone was as tough as Alexandria, but everyone needed to function like Alexandria. Flyers dropped like flies around the kinds of things they were likely to face. The realistic appraisal of the man's future made it easier to deal with the massive chip on his shoulder.
"Sorry, didn't see you coming." He said completely cheerfully, oblivious to the daggers being stared at him. A jovial attitude, combined with the impression of his build, was usually enough to disarm most conflicts. It largely worked here, with Sideswipe's expression shifting from anger to disgust. He looked over to Arbiter for support and apparently decided her expressionless mask and slight head tilt counted as a vote of confidence.
"Whatever." He looked at the damage again, then brushed himself off before heading into the meeting room.
"Alexandria's not going to like that." Arbiter said, looking at the fractured wall.
Ben shrugged. "She's dealt with worse than him before. Lex knows how to manage hotheads. You know that."
Arbiter inclined her head again as they continued to the meeting room. Inside, Sideswipe was settling into his seat while Sunstreak and Breakout sat at opposite sides of the table from each other. The director's chair was still empty, but various other members of the roster were already settled. Usher, Hillmover, Máscaras, and Burnout were already settled. People he had worked with, sometimes for years.
It was enough history that he could pick up on the mood. The fact that it wasn't an emergency alert combined with a frantic briefing while awaiting pickup from Strider was an unquestionably good sign. That said, it was still far from reassuring. Full meeting at extremely short notice was never a good sign, though when your boss didn't sleep there was always the possibility she had just overlooked the fact that most people didn't enjoy waking up to a short notice summons.
If this was just a briefing it was probably information that had already been reviewed on the east coast. Their morning meeting was hardly early by New Hampshire standards. They might even be seeing some local action roll out as they spoke.
But that was all just blind speculation. He had nothing to go on but past experience, and Brockton Bay had seemed determined to do everything it could to throw out every precedent for how cape conflicts were supposed to function, and not just from the actions of Apeiron. The more details that came to light about that city the worse things looked. Just from highlights of the past year Ben could see a half dozen cases that could justify external interference, but nothing had been requested.
How did a city even get to that point? Sure, it had gang troubles, loads of cities did. But gangs that entrenched, that powerful, and that brutal, that was something that typically warranted some level of intervention.
Providing you actually knew about it. Brockton Bay had been a normal department, right up to the point when it wasn't. It had even been a tourist destination, bringing in sightseers for the local cape scene. That was something that would never have stood if people knew the level of conflict the city was seeing. He could only guess they had a very cooperative local media and an online community that was skeptical about local claims.
He wondered how common that kind of thing was. How many directors would downplay a growing serious situation rather than admit the severity of it. Honestly, with the mindset you typically saw in PRT directors it probably wasn't even a conscious choice. Just a series of temporary corrective measures that ended up a lot less temporary as time went on. A few years of that and what would you have?
Well, you'd have a situation like Brockton Bay, though probably without Apeiron complicating things beyond the bounds of logic. Depending on who you asked that could either be a blessing, or doom your city to devastation and chaos.
The sound of the door opening drew Ben out of his musings as a tall woman in gray and black entered the room, her cape sweeping behind her. Ben's mind briefly jumped back to the early theories about Apeiron's parentage. It was something that probably seemed a lot funnier to people who'd never met Alexandria.
Fortunately, that already shaky explanation had fallen apart completely in the quagmire of uncertainty that followed the man after his demonstration on Thursday night. Nobody knew exactly what was happening in that video, but there was certainly no convenient way to trace it to Alexandria and Hero.
Alexandria took her position at the head of the table, looking over the assembled capes. "Now, before we begin, does anyone want to tell me who broke my wall?"
There was a pregnant pause as Sideswipe slowly worked up the nerve to respond. "Sorry, rough landing."
She leveled a stern gaze at him through her helmet and the man seemed to wilt. "Be sure to work on that. Landings should generally conclude on the exterior platforms, rather than halfway down the hall."
He nodded sheepishly until Alexandria broke eye contact, then stared daggers at Ben. He pretended not to notice as he directed his attention towards the front of the room.
"As many of you are no doubt aware, the developing situation in Brockton Bay reached a tipping point last Thursday." She said calmly. "In fact, it would be more accurate to say that it was the cumulation of a series of tipping points leading into each other."
There were some light nods at the closest thing to humor they were likely to get during a meeting like this.
"It was hoped that in the aftermath of such an event, hostile factions and unstable elements would stand down, allowing a period of recovery where the active situation could be properly assessed." Alexandria didn't mention who it was who had presented such a hope, but it was clear she didn't think particularly highly of such a stance. Regrettably, Ben had to agree with her. Things were seldom that neat, and people's response to seeing someone knocked down was more likely to be a curb stomp than a helping hand.
"Regrettably, it seems that is not that case." She said, surprising no one. "While there has fortunately been no further action from Apeiron…" Ben could almost see the words of the man's stranger effect bounce through the heads of the other capes at the meeting. "Several critical developments have been brought to light." Her voice became slightly more serious. Alexandria was never lighthearted, but she had shades of intensity that you could pick up on. "As such, it is necessary to fully brief response teams in the event that a rapid deployment in necessary."
A ripple of unease moved around the table, but it was tinged with a level of excitement. After more than a week of rumors and speculation, they were finally getting into the real meat of the situation. A chance to find out what was happening in Brockton Bay, and the truth about Apeiron, or at least as close to it as the Protectorate had.
He knew how well Alexandria could read body language. From her slight nod she could tell what they had put together. "What I am about to present in level-four confidential, but it contains our full understanding of Apeiron, and the policies the Protectorate will be following going forward." She paused, looking across their faces, then nodded. "Let's begin."
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- Location
- USA
Woot!!!! Its here!!!! I am so excited!!
Y Draig Gosch
-I====-
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The Prophecy is true!
- Location
- Philippines
WHY STOP THERE AAAAAAAAAA
- Location
- Pearl of the Orient Sea
Chubster time!!!! Note: did not yet read the new chapter.
The cliff was steep on this one.
![Green[734]](/data/avatar/1534730845/25394-m.jpg){kind=avatar}
- Location
- USA
That cliffhanger caused physical pain
I almost knocked over my desk light
I almost knocked over my desk light
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Bahahahahhahahahhahah! This got me to audibly laugh.
All in all, as usual for Roust, the interludes from non-Brocktonites are the best written and premier quality.
SiegfriedisOP
Calamity Demon King of Time
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This fic is the Dark Souls of fanfiction always a sudden cliff that kills you.
Rem Freeman
Clouded Personality
- Location
- Ocean Bound
Alright, it's official. Ben is officially one of my new favorite characters in this story! Now we wait after that devious cliffhanger (well played, LR) for him to learn about Apeiron and then Chubster can go back to protecting that PAWG's thicc honor with shotgun justice!! 🤣
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- Location
- United States
Super mean. I wanted to see all the stuff they thought they knew about Aperion.
Captain Dadjoke will save us!
- Location
- Philippines
Okay, just came down from the righteous indignation at the ridiculous cliff at the end of the chapter. LordRoustabout, apologize to my poor teddy bear.
Anyways, it's interesting to note just how Joe's anti precog effect has led to that response. I wonder though if they're considering the possibility that he's spoofing them, and what they might do in such a scenario. It's still the same caution in the end after all.
Plus, I can already imagine the panic when the news about the Teeth sets in. That's really what the meeting is about, isn't it? On how to get the Butcher as far away from Apeiron as possible, hence the emergency meeting?
Anyways, it's interesting to note just how Joe's anti precog effect has led to that response. I wonder though if they're considering the possibility that he's spoofing them, and what they might do in such a scenario. It's still the same caution in the end after all.
Plus, I can already imagine the panic when the news about the Teeth sets in. That's really what the meeting is about, isn't it? On how to get the Butcher as far away from Apeiron as possible, hence the emergency meeting?
- Pronouns
- Him/Dude/That/Guy
It's probably everything about the summit. The Teeth are important but I suspect that Team Celestial Forge made their public debut will be the biggest thing. Pictures of each, whatever info Uppermost passed on, the whole bit.
Stratagemini
Totally a Fire Ferret.
- Location
- Central Park
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
Chubsyer does Tai Chi? I like this loveable adipose mountain already!
- Location
- Philippines
Certainly very concerning things there. Fleet's demonstration, Survey's seeming omniscience and ability to detect parahuman powers, Lethe's concerning name in addition to what they know of her, Tetra's everything, and the fact that a giant robot can apparently get large enough to take on Lung yet also downsize enough to critique a bar and offended by dirt.
At least the cat is normal enough. Even if Apeiron said that the cat could take on Lung.
Fullofholes
Riddled with bullets
Did not know that chubster's daughter is a precog that works on endbringers...
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- Location
- Miami
It's.. it's so beautiful. I never thought we would actually see this as anything other than the joke it started as. I really like the characterization of Chubster.