Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)
- Thread starter LordRoustabout
- Start date
Bah Doobie Doobie Doo Bah Doobie Doobie Doo (AmberSlime)
Bah Doobie Doobie Doo Bah Doobie Doobie Doo
Within the sterling underbelly of the Protectorate Secret Base, holes open up within the ceiling. Three individuals ride in on beds, all in various states of awareness. One, in a red outfit, was instantly awake. Another, whose costume was covered in clocks, rubbed his eyes blearily as he stumbled out of his bed. The third was dead to the world. On a giant screen, a man in powered armor appeared."Ah, Agents Aegis, Clockblocker, and..." the man on the screen looked at the third. "Could somebody wake up Agent Kid Win, please?" An unseen helper tipped over a bucket of water placed in the rafters, which fell right onto Kid Win, jolting the poor boy into the world of the living.
"Aw, man! I just washed these sheets!" he cried, before realizing where he was and snapping into a salute.
"General Gallant, sir!" All three Agents chorused.
"Welcome, Agents. Our apologies for interrupting your sleep, but we have a critical situation." The screen showed many reports about and pictures of Agent Vista and what appeared to be a school much like Immaculata. "Agent Vista hasn't returned from her last mission. Given that this mission involved going up against that fiend, Apeiron, we're understandably concerned. Reports from undercover agents and security cameras places Agent Vista's last known location around this school. Your job is to infiltrate the place and find Agent Vista."
"Yes sir, General Gallant, sir!" Aegis barked, as he hopped on a three-person bicycle. Clockblocker hopped into his seat, and Kid Win slumped onto his. They pedaled away through a secret exit right onto the dockyard.
"You know, I'm fairly certain none of the entrances or exits to that place make geographical sense," Kid Win noted as the three-man team pedaled along. "I mean, how can we have exits in downtown and the dockyards that have roughly the same amount of travel time?"
Clockblocker shrugged. "I think it's some sort of Tinker thing." He turned back around to face Aegis, who was holding his hand out to one side. "And Aegis, it's literally the middle of the night, I don't think anybody will mind if you refrain from doing the hand signs."
"The rules of the road are to be obeyed," Aegis replied simply. Kid Win and Clockblocker sighed as they slowed to a stop at a red light. Nobody else was around.
Ape-i-ron's Aca-de-my for En-ter-pri-sing Villains~!
"Agh, cut, cut, cut! The lyrics work, but the music just doesn't match up! We'll have to workshop a new jingle."
"I think it works wonderfully, headmaster!"
"That's because of the brainwashing shampoo, my student. Don't worry, the sycophancy will wear off come morning."
"Of course, headmaster!"
"Ugh... anyways, if you three could come back next week? We'll have a proper jingle worked out by then. The money is already in your accounts!"
"Of course, sir. Have a pleasant night."
"You as well! Safe travels!"
"You know, I can't believe he seriously named it that," Kid Win said, staring bewilderingly at a sign.
"Why? Villains are always hammy like that," Clockblocker retorted. The trio began to march onto the school campus, Aegis in front, Clockblocker behind him, and Kid Win in the back.
"Well-- why would he advertise the 'evil' part?" Kid Win threw his hands up in frustration. "This place should be swarming with do-gooders with OpSec that bad!"
"Villains are quite skilled in hiding in plain sight," Aegis spoke sagely. "Come on. We'll start in the Principal's Office. If there's going to be clues around here, it'll probably be there."
After one trek through darkened hallways, the trio of Agents finally found the Principal's Office. The door was... surprisingly normal for an evil academy. As was the office itself. The three Agents immediately began to rifle through everything they could. Student schedules, emails, various other files, and desks.
"Supervillainy 101, Distractions and Death Traps, Leveraging Good Public Relations for Schemes, Proper Lair Design," Aegis rattled off the schedule in his hands. "Home Economics, Money Laundering, English Literature, and... Evil Mathematics?" Aegis crushed the schedule in his hands. "Dear god. This place is a madhouse." He whirled around to face the others. "Doubletime it! The sooner we get Vista out of this abattoir, the better!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" chorused the other two, who began to rifle through documents even faster. Unfortunately, all they were finding was more evidence of various evil going-ons, not the location of their wayward Agent. Aegis growled in frustration and slammed a fist against the wall. As if on cue, the back wall of the office sunk down, turning into a stairwell with metallic walls.
"Wow, what're the odds of that?" Kid Win asked as he jogged down the stairs, Clockblocker and Aegis not far behind.
Apeiron, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL genius extraordinaire, looked away from his game of EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL chess and peered at his EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL computer monitor EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLY. On it was a notification that the do-gooders had infiltrated his EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL secret base beneath his well-disguised EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL academy for EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL villainy.
"Blast it all," he lamented EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLY, slapping his palm against his EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL helmet. "I knew I should've implemented an actual security system instead of just hoping that people wouldn't hit that specific section of the wall! But... hmm... maybe I can make use of this."
Apeiron, stroking his chin EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLY, turned EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLY to a young blonde girl in an EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL catholic-style school uniform, with a tasteful cursive "A" on the breast pocket. "Vista, my student, would you be so kind as to round up your former associates? The school could use some more students."
Vista giggled. "Of course, headmaster! I'll be right back!" She skipped away, humming a cheerful discordant tune to herself.
"Hmm." Apeiron hummed EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLY. "I should probably make some modifications to the uniform effects. Make it so that they make the afflicted less... Bonesaw-esque."
"Hey!" Squawked the girl in question, who was busy preparing her curriculum for the science classes, which mostly focused on dissecting heroes.
"I mean no offense, Bonesaw, but you really must admit that you unnerve people. Nobody likes creepy school kids, it's just uncomfortable. Sort of like zombie babies, or cannibals."
The three Agents rushed through the metallic halls, following the conveniently placed signs towards the holding cells, the most likely location of their missing friend. A left, then a right, then straight ahead, then right again, then left, then left, then left, then left, then left, then left, then left, then left...
"Clockblocker, Kid Win?" Aegis asked, not slowing down at all.
"Yes, sir?" replied both junior Agents.
"Do either of you get the feeling that we're going in circles?"
Kid Win poked at a bunch of buttons on his gauntlet. A floating screen appeared, showing a glowing orange circle, a step count, and the number of calories burned. "According to my built-in fitness app, we have been going in circles. We're at about seven-and-a-half laps, sir."
"How many miles?"
"About .35 miles, sir."
"Ehahahahaha~!" A girlish cackle echoed through the halls, prompting the Agents to come to a halt. "That's pretty good! Although, I would think our campus's state-of-the-art gym would be a much better place to get your steps in!" The walls warped, a hallway appearing just long enough to let a short blonde girl step into view before disappearing again. She wore a dark overcoat and a plaid skirt. A tasteful cursive "A" was on the breast pocket.
"Vista?!" Squawked all three Agents, rattled by the vacant smile and empty eyes of their comrade. "What happened to you?" Kid Win asked, stepping forward only to be held back by Aegis.
"I... realized that I was wrong," Vista began, cantering towards them. "So much hate and anger directed at someone who really didn't deserve it."
"What're you..." Clockblocker began.
"He's really trying to make things better. Headmaster Apeiron, that is."
"He's a villain, Vista! You know this!" Aegis barked.
"Ehahahahahahahaaaa~! Is he, though? What has he done, sell a few knives, get Panacea thrown in M/S while trying to heal her? Sure, sure, but in comparison to everything else he's done, that's small stuff." Something approaching life entered Vista's vacant eyes as she took on a fighter's stance. The world warped and morphed in ways it wasn't meant to. "Soon enough, you'll come around! You can't run away from reality, you know! I'll teach you the truth you already know~!"
Vista pounced like a hungry jungle cat. "GLORY TO OUR SAVIOR--"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Missy Byron catapulted upright, furiously trying to get whatever was restraining her off--
Missy fell off of her bed and landed on the floor. The jolt of pain stunned her, and forced her to take in her surroundings. That was her ceiling she was seeing. She was in her room. The thing tangled around her like so many boa constrictors was nothing more than her blanket. Panting like she had run a marathon, Missy struggled her way out of the blanket, her hands shaky from adrenaline.
God, she was so damned sweaty. Eugh...
And that nightmare...
Missy shook her head furiously and slapped her hands against her cheeks. No, no, it was a nightmare, that was all it was. Nothing but the ramblings of her mind. They didn't mean anything. HE was a blight on this city, just biding HIS time until HIS schemes could come to fruition. There was no way that HE could be anything other than that.
Missy gulped and turned to face her closet doors. She peered through the darkness at her open closet door.
It was only a nightmare... right?
Something moved within her closet door, and before she even realized that she was moving, Missy slammed the door shut. She gasped and turned away. With shaking, trembling hands, she opened her window just a crack, stretched and squashed space, and ran off into the night to clear her head.
She didn't want to go back to sleep.
I hope you enjoyed! This honestly just turned itself into some sort of analysis of Vista's subconscious doubts on its own. I don't think it's as good as its predecessor, but hopefully, it's enjoyable nonetheless.
I know that this is not cannon but missy needs counseling on her obsession with Apeiron. Though I think Apeiron would have a blast in Phineas and Ferb, it is a toss up on if he decides to stay a villain a very hammy villain with silly gadgets for entertainment. Or, he could be the guy who shows the kids how you really build a super bouncy house, with cup holders and a handy dandy dimensional shifting packaging. It would be great.
- Location
- A big rock
Very nice omake, however, you didn't have aperion say "a parahuman?... Vista the parahuman!" So you can't get the full 10 out of 10.
Hmm... yes, a missed opportunity. Unfortunately, the only place saying that would've made sense was the prequel to this Omake, where I also missed that gag. Truly, I have failed.
- Pronouns
- Male
I think Ageis can be stretched out like Perry. So that is an idea you can use. Also Omake was great!
Little did Vista know her bad dreams had been caused by a drug shot into her by a dart-wielding Kerbal, who was scanning her brain to make a copy of it to use for Apeiron to further his next evil plan: Building a rocket to kill the Simurgh. After all, only a diabolical fiend would desire to threaten the status quo!
Last edited:
Enjoyable and really showing how messed up Missy is in a sense.
What? She has a alien super computer connected to her via having a mental breakdown that she has never recovered from. Or probably been treated for at all. She has issues is all I can say.
While I would enjoy Missy realizing her mistaken outlook on Apeiron. We also know that she is a 12-14 year old girl that has no real support for her personal life and is more then vindictive enough to blame the Enigmatic Tinker for nearly everything if she could.
I mean, just look at what girls that age have done to others. Plenty of evidence to support me.
Now the moment when she realizes that she is wrong about our Iron Monkey Overlord is going to be a massive strike against her. Enough that the Kerbals might deny her the chance of SPACE!!!
Actually, how would the Kerbals react to the idea of someone possibly making it easier to reach space like Vista?
But let us all REJOICE for tonight we get more of the fabulous story.
Dancingrage
On a crash course with the big time.
- Location
- On The Road, USA
Oh, he'd totally be that one guy that Phineas and Ferb know who helps them get their gear and stuff for their adventures.
In fact, he may already be that one guy they know for all that...
"There's two million and five days, in Joe's nifty workshop, and school comes along just to end it...."
- Location
- Caribbean
Thus was amusing, almost as good as the the fic that had Skidmark as a lazy undercover mastermind because he secretly had the largest collection of thinkers on the east coast cuz the majority of high level thinkers get the info "world fucked and we're all gonna die soon" in some form or another so they run to the Merchants to get as high as possible to not have to think or THINK anymore...
- Pronouns
- Male
Link please? That sounds amazing.
BarbaCoPut
Voluta indomita
- Location
- Argentina
- Pronouns
- He/His
You know, I tend to despise the IRS or other tax systems pictured as unstoppable... They are only (mostly) unstoppable to the normal man, woman or cat. The Rich continuously make it their b..., and even terrible things like Scientology were more than capable of bringing the IRS to its knees by simply massive use of lawyers...
The idea that the IRS is unstoppable is just a clever ruse created by the Mainstream media to appease said overlord, so that normal people never fights unjust taxation, you grow up watching jokes in comics or cartoons about how the IRS is respected by even The Joker, the madman that doesn't even fear Superman, then you grow up and sitcoms have episodes where the characters have to kowtow to the IRS in some form, everyone acknowledging that you just pay, heck, even Krusty or Mr Burns get fu..ed by the IRS, and they are millionaires and famous people... So the subliminal idea gets implanted that no one can fight it... so why try? just accept what it demands.
Normal people is controlled, and the people with power keeps paying nothing of their billions.
Last edited:
Skidmark manages to keep his gang on a level with the ABB (only gang with a cape confirmed capable of soloing an Endbringer), E88 (suspiciously well-funded and flush with capes, even considering their international connections), Coil (who never seems to lose), and the PRT/Protectorate (featuring Captain Efficiency, Lady All-the-dakka, and lead by the only person skilled enough to legitimately fight their way out of Ellisburg). All while completely out of his skull on drugs.
Imagine what he could manage if he ever sobered up…
- Location
- Somewhere and Nowhere in a state of super-position
I was thinking of the Backrooms when this was happening, yeah! And also how stupid Lisa was being for not heading the HC SVNT DRACONES vibes. The Backrooms are a nightmare - one that cannot be woken from. Good job! :3
Dancingrage
On a crash course with the big time.
- Location
- On The Road, USA
The story you're looking for is
...Who Needs Enemies? [AltPower!Taylor / Worm]
Created to stop the nagging mostly. I'd happily carve my writing on a bathroom wall if I had a...
forums.sufficientvelocity.com
It came out around the same time as one of the more popular stories called
With Friends Like These [AltPower!Taylor / Worm] X-Post
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE So, about a week or two ago I got this brain worm, in my brain, to...
forums.sufficientvelocity.com
which was a fluffy Friendbringer fic.
The snickers when both were next to each other juuuust right was quite the thing.
Edits: Trying to get BBCode to do what I want because it's not behaving like HTML coding that I'm used to!
Last edited:
- Location
- Right Where I Am
Taylor noted that they had a fully fleshed out plan that they were willing to go with before they even met with Apeiron.
He has considered nanite ammunition before. Consider a nanite payload that the Matrix uses to build a giant robot by the time it reaches Coil.
I first thought of The Scarlet Letter at the cursive A. Took me an embarrassingly long time, a couple of paragraphs, before I made the connection to Apeiron.
74.1 Interlude Mike
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
(Author's Note: This was originally intended to be a preamble to chapter 75, but time constraints have delayed that chapter further. I have decided to post this section as its own mini-interlude to tide things over until the next full chapter.)
74.1 Interlude Mike
Mike looked over the staggering extent of the damage that had been wrought onto the city. Onto what used to be his city. Despite the years of absence there was still a feeling of ownership, of responsibility for the place.
If Amy hadn't called him, would he have come back on his own? Taken up the requests for aid and offered to help?
Probably not. He loved this city, it had been his home, but the baggage attached to it, and to New Wave in particular, was more that he would have been able to deal with. It sounded horrible, but if the team hadn't been falling apart, if he was facing a united front of his sisters, then it probably would have been too much for him to tolerate.
He wouldn't have wished for the situation the team was in, but he didn't feel responsible for it. If anything, it was confirmation of what he had said before he left. Well, really more of what he had exchanged in shouting matches with his sisters. That hadn't been the best of times, though the current state of things made those days look positively nostalgic.
New Wave was, if anything, in an even worse state than the city as a whole. He had never seen them this bad. Not even after Jess's death. It was easy to understand how the PRT had assigned so much concern to Apeiron's actions. If New Wave really was the stalwart and resilient group they depicted themselves as and had been brought so low so easily then it would have indicated a very powerful cape at work.
But New Wave was anything but resilient. Sarah and Neil's marriage had been on the rocks from before he left, Carol had always been a piece of work, and with Mark, well, it was obvious in hindsight. Not that it was any help now. No, problems had persisted far past the point where they had a hope of actually dealing with them. Now it was just damage control, for both the team and the city.
Mike spotted a figure in green and white waiting under a streetlamp in the fading twilight of evening. He raised a hand and gave a wide wave. The motion attracted the man's attention, earning Mike a slight wave in return. Really just a raising of one hand before dropping it again.
Contrasting the vision of Flashbang standing before him with the force of nature that had taken off online, that had managed to stand out even in the face of everything Apeiron had pulled, well, he would say it was jarring, but he knew the man too well for that. He wasn't sure if it was a consequence of being married to Carol, or if it was one of the things that drew her to him, but Mark was never a real presence outside of combat. He'd fade into the background, or slink off at the earliest opportunity. Now he knew what that meant, but earlier, when it had all been family stress and cape concern he'd been as blind to it as anyone else.
Nobody had really known what was happening. Too many of their own concerns, their own problems. Carol had known, but Mike knew her approach to mental issues. Neil had known, but finding out about a man's conditions while sleeping with his wife didn't exactly lead to a supportive relationship. For him, well, Carol never trusted him with anything. The little brother, tagging along with his big sister's plans.
Frankly, it was a miracle the team had lasted this long. From what he'd been able to gather, they'd been skating by on inertia from their creation. The New Wave movement sputtered out the instant it became clear what the consequences of a public identity were. After that, it had just become a family team, coasting on the branding from the initial push. Apeiron had proven it only took one push at the wrong time to bring it all tumbling down.
If you rolled back the years to when he was still angry, fresh with outrage from Jess's death and furious at his sisters, he might have felt some satisfaction in the current situation, some level of vindication. Instead, all he could see was the pain the drawn-out collapse had caused. Getting out, meeting Beth, starting his own family, away from all this, it had changed his perspective. Given him a chance to grow up. Being with people who didn't expect the worst from you, it was incredible how it could change your outlook.
Only now he was back, and finding that new outlook clashing with everything he left behind. That holding action that had been maintaining New Wave seemed to have seeped into every member of the team, locking them in place. Somehow, the fact that they hadn't changed made them seem less familiar than ever. It was like watching old home movies, only on tape that had started to wear out, leaving the image distorted.
And he was the one left to fix it. To fix everything. Something his sisters would have never trusted him with, and his brothers in law would never have expected from him. To be fair, nobody expected it from him now. He was just the only person distant enough from the mess to be able to move between players relatively freely. Sure, Carol was as hostile as ever, Sarah was a mess, Neil was beating himself up, the kids were missing or directionless, and Mark was his own special set of concerns, but none of that was related to him. The unresolved issues from his departure weren't worth dredging up in the face of the current crisis, leaving him as the effective intra team ambassador.
Which also led to his presence here and now.
"Flashbang." Mike called out in the most over the top tone he could manage. Something from back when they were starting out, working on introductions and potential soundbites. Mark gave him a frustrated huff, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Lightstar." He said in a flat voice. "What, are we framing this as a team up? Something for the cameras?"
Mike shook his head. "I think you've gotten enough camera coverage for both of us." He joked. "But no." He said, looking around. Definitely no cameras. Not in this part of the city. The recovery workers vanished at sundown, leaving the city empty. There might be the occasional stray individual slipping through the area, but really, this close to the blackout zone, there was no reason for anyone to be out.
Which also meant no reason to patrol. You could make an argument about the importance of maintaining a presence in the area or showing the flag, but Mike knew that Mark wasn't choosing his patrol times or routes based on some analysis of critical response requirements. A long walk through a dark section of the city was probably exactly what the man was looking for at this point.
"I can handle this on my own." Mark assured him. "I don't need your help."
Mike had to chuckle at that. "Believe me, I know. Half the internet knows. If things head south, you won't have to worry about me. I'll fall back and let you do your thing."
That got a ghost of a smile out of Mark as he looked down at his grenade patterned gauntlets. Mike had expected to find them and Mark in worse shape, but beyond a few scuffs there was no sign of the amount of work the man had been putting in over the past week.
"You know, I never really thought about doing something like that, back when I was with the team." From Mark's phrasing Mike couldn't help but feel like there was a finality in the way his time with New Wave was referred to in the past tense.
"Most people don't realize how hard it can be. Using explosives, I mean." He lifted one of his hands for emphasis and Mark nodded at Mike's words. "Need to keep track of the entire battlefield, locations of friends and enemies, judge distance from the detonations and targets, different loads for brutes and people with normal durability, being aware of confined spaces, accounting for shrapnel and making sure not to compromise structural integrity."
"It's like playing chess, every time you hit the streets." Mark said as he leaned back. "Honestly, it's been a relief, being able to open up like that. Just sweep everything off the board, rather than mess with the fiddling bits and setup."
Mark was lucky like that. He could dial down his explosives to a non-lethal range. The name 'Flashbang' wasn't the complete misnomer the internet seemed to believe it was. Mark was actually able to pepper an area in blasts without worrying about leaving a scene out of a civil war battlefield. Of course, against harder targets he was free to use lethal blasts to the same degree of saturation, as Hookwolf had learned first hand.
"Certainly made an impact." Mike said cautiously. "Are you going to follow up on any of that?"
Flashbang shifted awkwardly. "I've gotten some offers. Some good offers to be honest. I'm not sure how serious they are, or if they'll still be around after the internet gets done with this fad." He let out a breath. "I don't want to leave Brockton Bay." To his credit, he managed to avoid making it sound like an accusation specifically directed at Mike. Mike managed to avoid reacting to the probably unintended slight and let Mark continue.
"With everything happening with Vicky, Amy, Carol, everything…" He let out a breath. "It doesn't seem right to be looking at anything after this. I'm not sure if I even want there to be an 'after'." He shook his head. "It feels too much like running away."
Admittedly, Mike had the advantage of lacking significant ties to the city when he left the team. His relationship with his sisters was rocky at best, and with Jess gone there wasn't anything keeping him there. Mark was in a very different situation, and one that was a lot more complicated.
He shrugged and looked out over the city. The last of the day's light was fading from the sky, making the lack of streetlights within the dark zone particularly noticeable. It wasn't an obstacle for Mike, not with his powers, but even with his night vision, he understood how oppressive that kind of clawing darkness could be.
"Where do you want to start this thing? Are you following the old patrols, or what?" He asked.
Mark shook his head. "Those routes aren't relevant with the ABB broken, and most of them aren't passable anymore." He scanned across the darkening city. "Usually, I cut through the dark zone just after sundown, then do a few loops along the border of Merchant territory before circling back along the western edge of the zone." He turned back to Mike. "It's a pretty long route. You really don't have to come."
"Mark, the Teeth are back in town. I know you can handle a lot, but you don't take chances with the Butcher." That got a reluctant nod from the man. They both remembered the time before the Teeth had been driven out, and the hellish period immediately preceding their exile. Given that the Butcher had only gotten more powerful and more unstable in the intervening years, that wasn't something to take lightly.
They began picking their way through the dark zone. Mike had already pulled the battery from his phone and made sure he wasn't carrying anything that could be affected, but there was still something unsettling about being inside the dark zone. Maybe it was the fact that you knew you were completely cut off. No signaling for help, no backup. Just you against whatever the night held.
And Mark had been patrolling nightly since the Ungodly Hour. Granted, it wasn't entirely inside the zone, but the northern edge was hardly more accessible, at least before Armsmaster and Dragon had managed to clear another corridor at the eastern edge.
"God but this is eerie." Mike muttered as they made their way over one of the improvised bridges covering a trench that had been cut through the city. The active trails of elemental energy may have died out, but the damage was still there. It was still everywhere. The city was definitely in cleanup and recovery, with any hope of restoration sitting fairly distantly.
"The silence?" Mark asked. Mike nodded to him. "It's less dead once you get outside the zone, but that's mostly Merchant parties or the occasional stubborn resident." He sighed as they continued down the street. "People are basically writing off the northern end of the city. Do you know when the police will get back through there?"
Mike shook his head. "They took a lot of losses in the bombings, particularly the first wave. Relief forces from other cities have helped, but they're stretched thin. Last I heard they're offering to evacuate anyone isolated north of the zone, but with only two routes through they can't effectively respond to incidents in that area."
Really, they could barely respond to incidents in the areas where they actually had stations and resources. The gangs had been less confrontational following the Ungodly Hour and their strikes into ABB territory, but that was just accounting for the organized side of crime. The city was stressed, and stress had a tendency to explode at the worst moments. There was no shortage of 'minor' incidents that had the potential to turn not-so-minor at a moment's notice. Apeiron may have cowed the big fish, but there were plenty of little problems that could make life hell for the people of the city.
"How bad is it up there?" Mike asked. Mark walked a few more steps before responding.
"Bad. Could be worse, but that's not saying much. I haven't had to do much. People are scattering as soon as I show up."
"Advantage of your reputation?" He asked.
"I guess." Marks said noncommittally. "I think the Merchants are avoiding me, but I haven't actually crashed any of their events."
"Guess they're not eager for a rematch." Mike said in an attempt at good humor. Honestly, no group in the city would have anticipated what Flashbang was able to accomplish by cutting loose. The Merchants' loss might have been played as a fluke, or a consequence of the gang's incompetence, but Flashbang holding off two teams of Empire capes on his own had cemented his reputation. It really said something that the Merchants weren't even trying to get payback, instead cutting their losses even as they were being challenged on their doorstep.
His mind jumped back to the way Sarah and Carol would carefully manage the team's strategy and tactics. Precise use of force, careful coordination. It was something that New Wave's success was generally attributed to. Of course, that was falling away now. It's hard to be proud of your brilliant tactics when evidently a better result could be achieved by pointing Flashbang at the problem and instructing him to fuck shit up.
"How is the rest of the team doing?" Mark asked. The sudden question took Mike off guard, mostly because he'd been trying to avoid the topic. Mostly because there wasn't anything good to say.
"Not good." He admitted. "This is hitting Sara hard." That got an understanding nod from Mark. "Crystal is managing things as well as she can, but the team is effectively leaderless right now."
That was a major problem. The critical shortage of emergency responders meant capes were more important than ever. New Wave had gone from a team that could be called out on a moment's notice to a collection of aimless heroes, most of whom couldn't stand the sight of each other. Individual members had stepped up, but always in isolated cases with no central direction or coordination. Half the reason he was here, with Mark, was so that the police would have a point of contact for at least one member of New Wave.
"Neil…" He saw Mark tense at the name, his hands bunching into fists. Briefly, he wondered if he should back off, but decided to press on. "Neil kind of fell in with Fire and Rescue during the Ungodly Hour. He's been working there with one of the other visiting capes, Case 53 from California."
Mark took some deep breaths and Mike could see waves of tension moving through his body. He decided to move on, but it was unlikely the rest of his information would bring about a more pleasant reaction, assuming Mark didn't know it already.
"Carol has been tied up with Vicky and Amy's cases." From what he'd heard it was in more of an obstructive capacity than any attempt to resolve the situation. "I've spoken with Carol a couple of times, but, you know." Mark nodded. "I've called Amy a few times, but haven't been able to visit since the meeting with the Youth Guard."
Mark let out a long breath. His pace slowed to the point where Mike turned to check on him.
"Thank you, for doing that." He said to Mike. "I should have been there. Damn it, I should have been the one to tell her, years ago, but Carol…"
"I get it." Mike replied.
"No." Mark said with a sharp exhale. "This thing, it was never supposed to be a secret, not like this. We were always going to tell her when she got older. It's just, it never came, and Carol always shot it down, and I didn't bring it up as often as I should have. And then, finding out it was eating away at her like that…" He took a deep breath. As he let it out his posture slumped. He normally looked five to ten years younger than his actual age, but he seemed to age twenty years in a single breath.
"I've failed her as a father." He said in a cold voice.
"What?" He asked. In the darkness of a blackout zone that blocked radio waves and obscured vision, it was probably the most private environment you could get while technically being public. Still, Mike had to admit, it made him a bit uncomfortable. People didn't open up to him like this. His family certainly didn't. But somehow he had become the stable one who everyone could talk to.
Probably for lack of options, but that didn't change the situation. Carol's rants, Sarah's breakdowns, Crystal's concerns, Neil's aimless guilt, and now Mark. What was it that turned him from the bratty younger brother into the family confidant?
"You know about my… about the Dysthymia?" Mike nodded. Not the precise medical terms, but he knew about Mark's struggles with depression.
They took a moment while Mark gathered his thoughts. "You know, Carol didn't want children?" Mike raised an eyebrow. With the way she doted on Vicky he never would have guessed. "I argued for it. Promised I would be there. Support her, take care of everything I could. Back when I didn't know what it would be like." He let out another breath. "I know she was having a hard time with Vicky, before we took in Amy. I know it got worse. Knew it got worse." He clenched a fist. "I know everything I did wrong, every time I forgot a promise or missed an appointment, or forgot to take my medication. I know I wasn't there like I should have been, and I can't help but think, if I had, then maybe she wouldn't have…"
He took a couple of quick breaths, almost forcing himself to calm down. Mike's mind jumped back to those video clips; the footage of absolute devastation wrought by his brother-in-law. At the time he had wondered where that kind of outburst had come from.
He wasn't wondering that any more.
"It feels like it's giving her an excuse." He said. "Like that somehow exonerates her for what she did. And I can't stand the thought of that."
Mike took a breath before responding. "Look, Carol… she's always been hard to deal with, even before she had powers. You…" He considered how to put it delicately. "You were a good fit, at least at the start." It was a nice way of saying that Mark had an exceptional talent for dealing with Carol's bullshit. Hell, he actually seemed to be a bit of a moderating influence on things. "But she's responsible for what she did and the way she did it. Having a reason isn't the same thing as having an excuse."
Those were Beth's words. Words that had to be directed at him on occasion. As much as he didn't like to admit it, there were common traits that ran through the three of them. Expressed differently, and processed differently, but they were still there.
"After hearing about Marquis, Amy is in a rough place. Things are going to be difficult between her and Carol." As if they weren't already. "Have you had a chance to speak with her?"
Mark shook his head. "Carol has taken over everything for her and Vicky's case. I didn't even hear about most of it until it was already underway. After the last time we spoke she started running things from her office, rather than the house. I've reached out to the PRT directly, but with everything else going on it's not a priority, and Carol running interference doesn't help."
"You haven't heard anything?" Mike asked. The length of Amy's containment was bordering on absurd, particularly once she had been released from holding at the PRT headquarters. There was something going on, and the fact that Carol was obscuring it didn't bode well.
"I got through to a specialist they brought down for her case, Dr. Bahar or something like that." He snorted. "Told me he was sorry I couldn't make it to his meeting with Carol."
"She didn't tell you about that, did you?" Mark shook his head. "Did he have anything else to say?"
"He… He asked about my psychiatric history." Mark admitted with significant reluctance.
"What?" Mike asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know." He replied. "I also don't know what Carol's been telling him, but he was asking about any shifts in my condition over the past three years."
"What does that have to do with Amy? Or master containment?" Mike asked.
"I have no idea." Mark said. "Carol wouldn't talk about it, not that she's talking about anything else."
"Jesus." Mike muttered. The idea that Carol was playing games with Amy's containment while the city was in the middle of a crisis was… well, it was regrettably in character for Carol. She could be exceptionally stubborn and myopic when she thought she was right. Which basically meant she was always exceptionally stubborn and myopic.
It might make sense if it was somehow connected to Vicky's case, but by all accounts that was an entirely separate mess. Mike hadn't heard more than 'altered power expression', but it was clear they were treating the situation as a significant priority. At least Vicky wasn't sequestered on the same level as Amy, even if she was being kept out of the field.
Mike couldn't really argue with that. If a cape relied on their powers for flight and something altered their powers in any way, you don't take risks with that kind of thing. Not when high altitude involuntary skydiving was a possibility.
"At this point, I don't know what to do." Mark admitted. For a man who was already feeling like he had failed his family, it was heartbreaking to see.
Once again, Mike was struck by the contrast. Flashbang, the walking artillery barrage, icon of the overpowered nature of Brockton Bay's cape scene, was helpless in the face of the problems with his family. He could fight an Empire contingent to a standstill or drive off the Merchants singlehandedly. He could patrol the least stable area of the city, sending criminals scattering at the very hint of his presence, but against something like this, he was helpless.
It was the kind of thing that made you wonder what the point of having superpowers was if they couldn't actually fix your real problems. That was what had struck him, all those years ago. The team was never short on firepower, or strategy, or direction, but they couldn't actually deal with any of their real problems. Just ignore them, or bury them in work.
"There is something." Mike admitted. Mark looked up. "You aren't going to like it."
"What?" He asked.
"Neil has been pushing to get everyone together. He asked me to float the idea." Mike said.
"What? What's that supposed to accomplish?" Mark asked in a hard voice.
"As far as I can tell, it's supposed to put things to rest." Mike explained. "New Wave basically does and doesn't exist at the moment. You need to decide what you're going to do, going forward. If that means ending the team, then that's better than leaving things undefined."
"And how is sitting down with Neil supposed to help with Carol? Or Amy? Or Vicky?" Mark asked.
"Sarah's agreed to meet." Mark gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, Crystal and Eric have promised to get her to the meeting. You show up, then Carol will show up."
"Right." Mark replied. "Can't let people make decisions without her." He shook his head. "You think this is a good idea? Everyone together in one place, with everything that's happened?"
"Hey, if the city's villains can meet without killing each other, then I'm sure New Wave can manage to keep things no worse than misdemeanor assault." He quipped.
Mark took another breath. "I don't want to do this." He admitted.
"I understand." Mike said patiently.
"Honestly, I don't think I want to see either of them, ever again." He took a breath. "But this needs to be done." He looked at Mike. "Neil, he'll back me up with Carol?" The words sounded painful to get out, like Mark was forcing them.
"For Amy? Definitely. Nobody's happy with the way she's handling things." Mike explained.
"Fine." He said. "But I want you there."
"What?" Mike asked.
"We need a neutral party." Mark stated plainly.
"And you want me for that?" He asked in shock.
"Nobody else is going to be able to do it." Mark said. "And it's probably the only way to keep Carol from taking over the discussion and completely derailing things."
There was real anger in Mark's voice when he talked about Carol, but there was sadness too. If this was going to be New Wave's final meeting then Mike couldn't help but feel sorry for him, even if it would probably be for the best in the long run.
"Fine, I'll do it." He said.
Mark gave a small nod. "Then I'll go. You can tell Neil that." In the distance the glow of streetlights was becoming visible. They were reaching the end of the dark zone. Heading out of isolation and into dangerous territory. Still, it felt like an improvement.
"Great. Let's finish this patrol." After which he would have the fun task of breaking the news to Carol. Something to look forward to, he supposed.
74.1 Interlude Mike
Mike looked over the staggering extent of the damage that had been wrought onto the city. Onto what used to be his city. Despite the years of absence there was still a feeling of ownership, of responsibility for the place.
If Amy hadn't called him, would he have come back on his own? Taken up the requests for aid and offered to help?
Probably not. He loved this city, it had been his home, but the baggage attached to it, and to New Wave in particular, was more that he would have been able to deal with. It sounded horrible, but if the team hadn't been falling apart, if he was facing a united front of his sisters, then it probably would have been too much for him to tolerate.
He wouldn't have wished for the situation the team was in, but he didn't feel responsible for it. If anything, it was confirmation of what he had said before he left. Well, really more of what he had exchanged in shouting matches with his sisters. That hadn't been the best of times, though the current state of things made those days look positively nostalgic.
New Wave was, if anything, in an even worse state than the city as a whole. He had never seen them this bad. Not even after Jess's death. It was easy to understand how the PRT had assigned so much concern to Apeiron's actions. If New Wave really was the stalwart and resilient group they depicted themselves as and had been brought so low so easily then it would have indicated a very powerful cape at work.
But New Wave was anything but resilient. Sarah and Neil's marriage had been on the rocks from before he left, Carol had always been a piece of work, and with Mark, well, it was obvious in hindsight. Not that it was any help now. No, problems had persisted far past the point where they had a hope of actually dealing with them. Now it was just damage control, for both the team and the city.
Mike spotted a figure in green and white waiting under a streetlamp in the fading twilight of evening. He raised a hand and gave a wide wave. The motion attracted the man's attention, earning Mike a slight wave in return. Really just a raising of one hand before dropping it again.
Contrasting the vision of Flashbang standing before him with the force of nature that had taken off online, that had managed to stand out even in the face of everything Apeiron had pulled, well, he would say it was jarring, but he knew the man too well for that. He wasn't sure if it was a consequence of being married to Carol, or if it was one of the things that drew her to him, but Mark was never a real presence outside of combat. He'd fade into the background, or slink off at the earliest opportunity. Now he knew what that meant, but earlier, when it had all been family stress and cape concern he'd been as blind to it as anyone else.
Nobody had really known what was happening. Too many of their own concerns, their own problems. Carol had known, but Mike knew her approach to mental issues. Neil had known, but finding out about a man's conditions while sleeping with his wife didn't exactly lead to a supportive relationship. For him, well, Carol never trusted him with anything. The little brother, tagging along with his big sister's plans.
Frankly, it was a miracle the team had lasted this long. From what he'd been able to gather, they'd been skating by on inertia from their creation. The New Wave movement sputtered out the instant it became clear what the consequences of a public identity were. After that, it had just become a family team, coasting on the branding from the initial push. Apeiron had proven it only took one push at the wrong time to bring it all tumbling down.
If you rolled back the years to when he was still angry, fresh with outrage from Jess's death and furious at his sisters, he might have felt some satisfaction in the current situation, some level of vindication. Instead, all he could see was the pain the drawn-out collapse had caused. Getting out, meeting Beth, starting his own family, away from all this, it had changed his perspective. Given him a chance to grow up. Being with people who didn't expect the worst from you, it was incredible how it could change your outlook.
Only now he was back, and finding that new outlook clashing with everything he left behind. That holding action that had been maintaining New Wave seemed to have seeped into every member of the team, locking them in place. Somehow, the fact that they hadn't changed made them seem less familiar than ever. It was like watching old home movies, only on tape that had started to wear out, leaving the image distorted.
And he was the one left to fix it. To fix everything. Something his sisters would have never trusted him with, and his brothers in law would never have expected from him. To be fair, nobody expected it from him now. He was just the only person distant enough from the mess to be able to move between players relatively freely. Sure, Carol was as hostile as ever, Sarah was a mess, Neil was beating himself up, the kids were missing or directionless, and Mark was his own special set of concerns, but none of that was related to him. The unresolved issues from his departure weren't worth dredging up in the face of the current crisis, leaving him as the effective intra team ambassador.
Which also led to his presence here and now.
"Flashbang." Mike called out in the most over the top tone he could manage. Something from back when they were starting out, working on introductions and potential soundbites. Mark gave him a frustrated huff, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Lightstar." He said in a flat voice. "What, are we framing this as a team up? Something for the cameras?"
Mike shook his head. "I think you've gotten enough camera coverage for both of us." He joked. "But no." He said, looking around. Definitely no cameras. Not in this part of the city. The recovery workers vanished at sundown, leaving the city empty. There might be the occasional stray individual slipping through the area, but really, this close to the blackout zone, there was no reason for anyone to be out.
Which also meant no reason to patrol. You could make an argument about the importance of maintaining a presence in the area or showing the flag, but Mike knew that Mark wasn't choosing his patrol times or routes based on some analysis of critical response requirements. A long walk through a dark section of the city was probably exactly what the man was looking for at this point.
"I can handle this on my own." Mark assured him. "I don't need your help."
Mike had to chuckle at that. "Believe me, I know. Half the internet knows. If things head south, you won't have to worry about me. I'll fall back and let you do your thing."
That got a ghost of a smile out of Mark as he looked down at his grenade patterned gauntlets. Mike had expected to find them and Mark in worse shape, but beyond a few scuffs there was no sign of the amount of work the man had been putting in over the past week.
"You know, I never really thought about doing something like that, back when I was with the team." From Mark's phrasing Mike couldn't help but feel like there was a finality in the way his time with New Wave was referred to in the past tense.
"Most people don't realize how hard it can be. Using explosives, I mean." He lifted one of his hands for emphasis and Mark nodded at Mike's words. "Need to keep track of the entire battlefield, locations of friends and enemies, judge distance from the detonations and targets, different loads for brutes and people with normal durability, being aware of confined spaces, accounting for shrapnel and making sure not to compromise structural integrity."
"It's like playing chess, every time you hit the streets." Mark said as he leaned back. "Honestly, it's been a relief, being able to open up like that. Just sweep everything off the board, rather than mess with the fiddling bits and setup."
Mark was lucky like that. He could dial down his explosives to a non-lethal range. The name 'Flashbang' wasn't the complete misnomer the internet seemed to believe it was. Mark was actually able to pepper an area in blasts without worrying about leaving a scene out of a civil war battlefield. Of course, against harder targets he was free to use lethal blasts to the same degree of saturation, as Hookwolf had learned first hand.
"Certainly made an impact." Mike said cautiously. "Are you going to follow up on any of that?"
Flashbang shifted awkwardly. "I've gotten some offers. Some good offers to be honest. I'm not sure how serious they are, or if they'll still be around after the internet gets done with this fad." He let out a breath. "I don't want to leave Brockton Bay." To his credit, he managed to avoid making it sound like an accusation specifically directed at Mike. Mike managed to avoid reacting to the probably unintended slight and let Mark continue.
"With everything happening with Vicky, Amy, Carol, everything…" He let out a breath. "It doesn't seem right to be looking at anything after this. I'm not sure if I even want there to be an 'after'." He shook his head. "It feels too much like running away."
Admittedly, Mike had the advantage of lacking significant ties to the city when he left the team. His relationship with his sisters was rocky at best, and with Jess gone there wasn't anything keeping him there. Mark was in a very different situation, and one that was a lot more complicated.
He shrugged and looked out over the city. The last of the day's light was fading from the sky, making the lack of streetlights within the dark zone particularly noticeable. It wasn't an obstacle for Mike, not with his powers, but even with his night vision, he understood how oppressive that kind of clawing darkness could be.
"Where do you want to start this thing? Are you following the old patrols, or what?" He asked.
Mark shook his head. "Those routes aren't relevant with the ABB broken, and most of them aren't passable anymore." He scanned across the darkening city. "Usually, I cut through the dark zone just after sundown, then do a few loops along the border of Merchant territory before circling back along the western edge of the zone." He turned back to Mike. "It's a pretty long route. You really don't have to come."
"Mark, the Teeth are back in town. I know you can handle a lot, but you don't take chances with the Butcher." That got a reluctant nod from the man. They both remembered the time before the Teeth had been driven out, and the hellish period immediately preceding their exile. Given that the Butcher had only gotten more powerful and more unstable in the intervening years, that wasn't something to take lightly.
They began picking their way through the dark zone. Mike had already pulled the battery from his phone and made sure he wasn't carrying anything that could be affected, but there was still something unsettling about being inside the dark zone. Maybe it was the fact that you knew you were completely cut off. No signaling for help, no backup. Just you against whatever the night held.
And Mark had been patrolling nightly since the Ungodly Hour. Granted, it wasn't entirely inside the zone, but the northern edge was hardly more accessible, at least before Armsmaster and Dragon had managed to clear another corridor at the eastern edge.
"God but this is eerie." Mike muttered as they made their way over one of the improvised bridges covering a trench that had been cut through the city. The active trails of elemental energy may have died out, but the damage was still there. It was still everywhere. The city was definitely in cleanup and recovery, with any hope of restoration sitting fairly distantly.
"The silence?" Mark asked. Mike nodded to him. "It's less dead once you get outside the zone, but that's mostly Merchant parties or the occasional stubborn resident." He sighed as they continued down the street. "People are basically writing off the northern end of the city. Do you know when the police will get back through there?"
Mike shook his head. "They took a lot of losses in the bombings, particularly the first wave. Relief forces from other cities have helped, but they're stretched thin. Last I heard they're offering to evacuate anyone isolated north of the zone, but with only two routes through they can't effectively respond to incidents in that area."
Really, they could barely respond to incidents in the areas where they actually had stations and resources. The gangs had been less confrontational following the Ungodly Hour and their strikes into ABB territory, but that was just accounting for the organized side of crime. The city was stressed, and stress had a tendency to explode at the worst moments. There was no shortage of 'minor' incidents that had the potential to turn not-so-minor at a moment's notice. Apeiron may have cowed the big fish, but there were plenty of little problems that could make life hell for the people of the city.
"How bad is it up there?" Mike asked. Mark walked a few more steps before responding.
"Bad. Could be worse, but that's not saying much. I haven't had to do much. People are scattering as soon as I show up."
"Advantage of your reputation?" He asked.
"I guess." Marks said noncommittally. "I think the Merchants are avoiding me, but I haven't actually crashed any of their events."
"Guess they're not eager for a rematch." Mike said in an attempt at good humor. Honestly, no group in the city would have anticipated what Flashbang was able to accomplish by cutting loose. The Merchants' loss might have been played as a fluke, or a consequence of the gang's incompetence, but Flashbang holding off two teams of Empire capes on his own had cemented his reputation. It really said something that the Merchants weren't even trying to get payback, instead cutting their losses even as they were being challenged on their doorstep.
His mind jumped back to the way Sarah and Carol would carefully manage the team's strategy and tactics. Precise use of force, careful coordination. It was something that New Wave's success was generally attributed to. Of course, that was falling away now. It's hard to be proud of your brilliant tactics when evidently a better result could be achieved by pointing Flashbang at the problem and instructing him to fuck shit up.
"How is the rest of the team doing?" Mark asked. The sudden question took Mike off guard, mostly because he'd been trying to avoid the topic. Mostly because there wasn't anything good to say.
"Not good." He admitted. "This is hitting Sara hard." That got an understanding nod from Mark. "Crystal is managing things as well as she can, but the team is effectively leaderless right now."
That was a major problem. The critical shortage of emergency responders meant capes were more important than ever. New Wave had gone from a team that could be called out on a moment's notice to a collection of aimless heroes, most of whom couldn't stand the sight of each other. Individual members had stepped up, but always in isolated cases with no central direction or coordination. Half the reason he was here, with Mark, was so that the police would have a point of contact for at least one member of New Wave.
"Neil…" He saw Mark tense at the name, his hands bunching into fists. Briefly, he wondered if he should back off, but decided to press on. "Neil kind of fell in with Fire and Rescue during the Ungodly Hour. He's been working there with one of the other visiting capes, Case 53 from California."
Mark took some deep breaths and Mike could see waves of tension moving through his body. He decided to move on, but it was unlikely the rest of his information would bring about a more pleasant reaction, assuming Mark didn't know it already.
"Carol has been tied up with Vicky and Amy's cases." From what he'd heard it was in more of an obstructive capacity than any attempt to resolve the situation. "I've spoken with Carol a couple of times, but, you know." Mark nodded. "I've called Amy a few times, but haven't been able to visit since the meeting with the Youth Guard."
Mark let out a long breath. His pace slowed to the point where Mike turned to check on him.
"Thank you, for doing that." He said to Mike. "I should have been there. Damn it, I should have been the one to tell her, years ago, but Carol…"
"I get it." Mike replied.
"No." Mark said with a sharp exhale. "This thing, it was never supposed to be a secret, not like this. We were always going to tell her when she got older. It's just, it never came, and Carol always shot it down, and I didn't bring it up as often as I should have. And then, finding out it was eating away at her like that…" He took a deep breath. As he let it out his posture slumped. He normally looked five to ten years younger than his actual age, but he seemed to age twenty years in a single breath.
"I've failed her as a father." He said in a cold voice.
"What?" He asked. In the darkness of a blackout zone that blocked radio waves and obscured vision, it was probably the most private environment you could get while technically being public. Still, Mike had to admit, it made him a bit uncomfortable. People didn't open up to him like this. His family certainly didn't. But somehow he had become the stable one who everyone could talk to.
Probably for lack of options, but that didn't change the situation. Carol's rants, Sarah's breakdowns, Crystal's concerns, Neil's aimless guilt, and now Mark. What was it that turned him from the bratty younger brother into the family confidant?
"You know about my… about the Dysthymia?" Mike nodded. Not the precise medical terms, but he knew about Mark's struggles with depression.
They took a moment while Mark gathered his thoughts. "You know, Carol didn't want children?" Mike raised an eyebrow. With the way she doted on Vicky he never would have guessed. "I argued for it. Promised I would be there. Support her, take care of everything I could. Back when I didn't know what it would be like." He let out another breath. "I know she was having a hard time with Vicky, before we took in Amy. I know it got worse. Knew it got worse." He clenched a fist. "I know everything I did wrong, every time I forgot a promise or missed an appointment, or forgot to take my medication. I know I wasn't there like I should have been, and I can't help but think, if I had, then maybe she wouldn't have…"
He took a couple of quick breaths, almost forcing himself to calm down. Mike's mind jumped back to those video clips; the footage of absolute devastation wrought by his brother-in-law. At the time he had wondered where that kind of outburst had come from.
He wasn't wondering that any more.
"It feels like it's giving her an excuse." He said. "Like that somehow exonerates her for what she did. And I can't stand the thought of that."
Mike took a breath before responding. "Look, Carol… she's always been hard to deal with, even before she had powers. You…" He considered how to put it delicately. "You were a good fit, at least at the start." It was a nice way of saying that Mark had an exceptional talent for dealing with Carol's bullshit. Hell, he actually seemed to be a bit of a moderating influence on things. "But she's responsible for what she did and the way she did it. Having a reason isn't the same thing as having an excuse."
Those were Beth's words. Words that had to be directed at him on occasion. As much as he didn't like to admit it, there were common traits that ran through the three of them. Expressed differently, and processed differently, but they were still there.
"After hearing about Marquis, Amy is in a rough place. Things are going to be difficult between her and Carol." As if they weren't already. "Have you had a chance to speak with her?"
Mark shook his head. "Carol has taken over everything for her and Vicky's case. I didn't even hear about most of it until it was already underway. After the last time we spoke she started running things from her office, rather than the house. I've reached out to the PRT directly, but with everything else going on it's not a priority, and Carol running interference doesn't help."
"You haven't heard anything?" Mike asked. The length of Amy's containment was bordering on absurd, particularly once she had been released from holding at the PRT headquarters. There was something going on, and the fact that Carol was obscuring it didn't bode well.
"I got through to a specialist they brought down for her case, Dr. Bahar or something like that." He snorted. "Told me he was sorry I couldn't make it to his meeting with Carol."
"She didn't tell you about that, did you?" Mark shook his head. "Did he have anything else to say?"
"He… He asked about my psychiatric history." Mark admitted with significant reluctance.
"What?" Mike asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know." He replied. "I also don't know what Carol's been telling him, but he was asking about any shifts in my condition over the past three years."
"What does that have to do with Amy? Or master containment?" Mike asked.
"I have no idea." Mark said. "Carol wouldn't talk about it, not that she's talking about anything else."
"Jesus." Mike muttered. The idea that Carol was playing games with Amy's containment while the city was in the middle of a crisis was… well, it was regrettably in character for Carol. She could be exceptionally stubborn and myopic when she thought she was right. Which basically meant she was always exceptionally stubborn and myopic.
It might make sense if it was somehow connected to Vicky's case, but by all accounts that was an entirely separate mess. Mike hadn't heard more than 'altered power expression', but it was clear they were treating the situation as a significant priority. At least Vicky wasn't sequestered on the same level as Amy, even if she was being kept out of the field.
Mike couldn't really argue with that. If a cape relied on their powers for flight and something altered their powers in any way, you don't take risks with that kind of thing. Not when high altitude involuntary skydiving was a possibility.
"At this point, I don't know what to do." Mark admitted. For a man who was already feeling like he had failed his family, it was heartbreaking to see.
Once again, Mike was struck by the contrast. Flashbang, the walking artillery barrage, icon of the overpowered nature of Brockton Bay's cape scene, was helpless in the face of the problems with his family. He could fight an Empire contingent to a standstill or drive off the Merchants singlehandedly. He could patrol the least stable area of the city, sending criminals scattering at the very hint of his presence, but against something like this, he was helpless.
It was the kind of thing that made you wonder what the point of having superpowers was if they couldn't actually fix your real problems. That was what had struck him, all those years ago. The team was never short on firepower, or strategy, or direction, but they couldn't actually deal with any of their real problems. Just ignore them, or bury them in work.
"There is something." Mike admitted. Mark looked up. "You aren't going to like it."
"What?" He asked.
"Neil has been pushing to get everyone together. He asked me to float the idea." Mike said.
"What? What's that supposed to accomplish?" Mark asked in a hard voice.
"As far as I can tell, it's supposed to put things to rest." Mike explained. "New Wave basically does and doesn't exist at the moment. You need to decide what you're going to do, going forward. If that means ending the team, then that's better than leaving things undefined."
"And how is sitting down with Neil supposed to help with Carol? Or Amy? Or Vicky?" Mark asked.
"Sarah's agreed to meet." Mark gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, Crystal and Eric have promised to get her to the meeting. You show up, then Carol will show up."
"Right." Mark replied. "Can't let people make decisions without her." He shook his head. "You think this is a good idea? Everyone together in one place, with everything that's happened?"
"Hey, if the city's villains can meet without killing each other, then I'm sure New Wave can manage to keep things no worse than misdemeanor assault." He quipped.
Mark took another breath. "I don't want to do this." He admitted.
"I understand." Mike said patiently.
"Honestly, I don't think I want to see either of them, ever again." He took a breath. "But this needs to be done." He looked at Mike. "Neil, he'll back me up with Carol?" The words sounded painful to get out, like Mark was forcing them.
"For Amy? Definitely. Nobody's happy with the way she's handling things." Mike explained.
"Fine." He said. "But I want you there."
"What?" Mike asked.
"We need a neutral party." Mark stated plainly.
"And you want me for that?" He asked in shock.
"Nobody else is going to be able to do it." Mark said. "And it's probably the only way to keep Carol from taking over the discussion and completely derailing things."
There was real anger in Mark's voice when he talked about Carol, but there was sadness too. If this was going to be New Wave's final meeting then Mike couldn't help but feel sorry for him, even if it would probably be for the best in the long run.
"Fine, I'll do it." He said.
Mark gave a small nod. "Then I'll go. You can tell Neil that." In the distance the glow of streetlights was becoming visible. They were reaching the end of the dark zone. Heading out of isolation and into dangerous territory. Still, it felt like an improvement.
"Great. Let's finish this patrol." After which he would have the fun task of breaking the news to Carol. Something to look forward to, he supposed.
Last edited:
Rem Freeman
Clouded Personality
- Location
- Ocean Bound
Oh, wow! Yet another potential future interlude I can't help but get excited about!! Anyone else already imagining what kind of a knockdown dragout event this could turn into? And I'm not even sure if I mean that figuratively or literally. Especially if it means Carol has to admit what's going on with GG and Amy, or better yet if they decide to hold this meeting in a public place and a member of the Celestial Forge just so happens to come by.
Also, was I the only one hoping that this interlude would be focused on a certain Boston-based villain? After all, it's been awhile since we've heard from Accord sempai 🤣😂🤣
Also, was I the only one hoping that this interlude would be focused on a certain Boston-based villain? After all, it's been awhile since we've heard from Accord sempai 🤣😂🤣
SiegfriedisOP
Calamity Demon King of Time
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Apeiron: Stand back Aisha! I'm gonna Morb!
Aisha: What.
Scion *Gets Morbed*
Aisha: What.
Scion *Gets Morbed*
- Location
- Chile
I think you meant "depicted".
IndigoPhoenix
Devourer of Citrus
- Location
- Everywehere
Everyone's talking today, really shows how everything's headed in a mostly positive direction despite how terrible everything is now.
Last edited:
On a more realistic note this interlude is a great reminder that this s Worm and that giving people super powers, while making them powerful, doesn't actually let them solve their problems.
On a joking note, Chubster is going to be going through the Brockton Bay cape roster desperately trying to find a single non-overpowered, esoteric, or S class cape, come across someone who's power is "controllable Ash Beast" and just give up on the city.
On a joking note, Chubster is going to be going through the Brockton Bay cape roster desperately trying to find a single non-overpowered, esoteric, or S class cape, come across someone who's power is "controllable Ash Beast" and just give up on the city.
Wait, did Amy actually call him? I vaguely recall her being surprised when he showed up?
edit: The scene I got that idea from is the "Addendum Ethan" portion of part 34.
edit: On rereading things, I see in the "Addendum Mike" portion of part 32 he flat out says "Amy called me."
depleted -> depicted
edit: speaking of part 32, a typo from there that's still present:
cherry -> cheery
Last edited:
Remember the PRT is screening Amy for Master influence, Master influence from GG. They are probably trying to check if Mark has been Mastered as well. Of course Carol being Carol already looks like she was Mastered by GG.