Rather than the nigh indestructible Endbringers, Earth Bet finds itself attacked by a seemingly...
Butterflies (Worm x Pacific Rim, AU)
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Intro & Timeline
- Location
- Ireland
Rather than the nigh indestructible Endbringers, Earth Bet finds itself attacked by a seemingly neverending series of massive creatures bent solely on ruin. These Kaiju prove too resilient to be stopped without massive collateral damage, and so in order to fight back against these monsters, humanity takes the reasonable step of creating gigantic robots of various shapes and sizes to knock the stuffing out of the things.
And so life goes on, and we find ourselves focusing on a teenage girl in Brockton Bay as she begins her life as a superhero...
Timeline:
May 20th 1982: First appearance of Scion, the Golden Man.
1987: Public appearance of superheroes. The Slaughterhouse Nine are founded.
December 13th 1992: Apophis, the First Kaiju, appears in Sao Paulo.
December 15th 1992: Apophis killed on the outskirts of Campinas following prolonged battle.
December 20th 1992: Sao Paulo Exclusion Zone established. Kaiju Blue spreads into the surrounding area causing massive ecological disruption.
January 3rd 1993: First confirmed death from Kaiju Blue.
January 19th 1993: The Protectorate and PRT are officially established.
September 9th 1993: Knifehead attacks Jinzhou, killed after sustained nuclear barrage. Kaiju Blue spill largely contained.
May 29th 1993: Basilisk attacks London, fended off by heroes with moderate losses.
June 2nd 1993: PRT confirms that Blue exposure can induce trigger events, deciding to keep this information under wraps.
August 7th 1993: Andrew Richter begins work on programs to help develop defences against the Kaiju.
February 4th 1994: The PRT, in conjunction with Tinkers such as Richter and Masamune, successfully develop a prototype anti-Kaiju powered armour suit known as the Excalibur.
May 17th 1994: Dagon attacks Newfoundland. Initial tests of anti-Kaiju gun emplacements prove unsuccessful. The Excalibur succeeds in severely injuring Dagon, but is destroyed, and the creature manages to make a retreat into the ocean. Richter is confirmed dead the following day.
May 24th 1994: Following modifications, the rechristened Jaeger program goes into mass-production. Dragon makes contact with the PRT.
December 15th 1994: The first Jaeger prototype is completed.
January 18th 1995: Sliver attacks Jakarta. The Jaeger project proves useful but is ultimately unable to prevent major damage. Kaiju escapes.
October 28th 1995: Sawtooth attacks Mombasa. The first comprehensive victory for the Jaeger program, managing to both contain and defeat the Kaiju.
1996: No Kaiju attacks occurred in this year. The Birdcage is constructed.
January 2nd 1997: Behemoth, the first Humanoid Kaiju, appears in Paris.
January 8th 1997: The Paris Crater is sealed off.
July 30th 1997: Sliver attacks Oslo, and is successfully killed.
February 7th 1998: Tunneller attacks Moscow.
October 11th 1998: Hecate attacks Kyushu.
October 12th 1998: Hecate defeated by unknown parahuman.
August 21st 1999: Djinn, the first Flying Kaiju, attacks San Francisco.
March 29th 2000: Czernobog attacks Cologne.
April 1st 2000: Cologne quarantined.
September 15th 2000: The Siberian Incident occurs, Hero dies.
September 16th 2000: Behemoth attacks Buenos Aires.
February 2nd 2001: Ellisburg quarantined.
2001 – 2011: Kaiju attacks continue, with the Jaeger program successfully eliminating nineteen Kaiju and two Humanoids. The Jaeger program is established at nine locations around the world, under the joint command of the PRT, Pan-European Council, and various national groups. The C.U.I. begins to develop their own counterpart to the program.
And so life goes on, and we find ourselves focusing on a teenage girl in Brockton Bay as she begins her life as a superhero...
Timeline:
May 20th 1982: First appearance of Scion, the Golden Man.
1987: Public appearance of superheroes. The Slaughterhouse Nine are founded.
December 13th 1992: Apophis, the First Kaiju, appears in Sao Paulo.
December 15th 1992: Apophis killed on the outskirts of Campinas following prolonged battle.
December 20th 1992: Sao Paulo Exclusion Zone established. Kaiju Blue spreads into the surrounding area causing massive ecological disruption.
January 3rd 1993: First confirmed death from Kaiju Blue.
January 19th 1993: The Protectorate and PRT are officially established.
September 9th 1993: Knifehead attacks Jinzhou, killed after sustained nuclear barrage. Kaiju Blue spill largely contained.
May 29th 1993: Basilisk attacks London, fended off by heroes with moderate losses.
June 2nd 1993: PRT confirms that Blue exposure can induce trigger events, deciding to keep this information under wraps.
August 7th 1993: Andrew Richter begins work on programs to help develop defences against the Kaiju.
February 4th 1994: The PRT, in conjunction with Tinkers such as Richter and Masamune, successfully develop a prototype anti-Kaiju powered armour suit known as the Excalibur.
May 17th 1994: Dagon attacks Newfoundland. Initial tests of anti-Kaiju gun emplacements prove unsuccessful. The Excalibur succeeds in severely injuring Dagon, but is destroyed, and the creature manages to make a retreat into the ocean. Richter is confirmed dead the following day.
May 24th 1994: Following modifications, the rechristened Jaeger program goes into mass-production. Dragon makes contact with the PRT.
December 15th 1994: The first Jaeger prototype is completed.
January 18th 1995: Sliver attacks Jakarta. The Jaeger project proves useful but is ultimately unable to prevent major damage. Kaiju escapes.
October 28th 1995: Sawtooth attacks Mombasa. The first comprehensive victory for the Jaeger program, managing to both contain and defeat the Kaiju.
1996: No Kaiju attacks occurred in this year. The Birdcage is constructed.
January 2nd 1997: Behemoth, the first Humanoid Kaiju, appears in Paris.
January 8th 1997: The Paris Crater is sealed off.
July 30th 1997: Sliver attacks Oslo, and is successfully killed.
February 7th 1998: Tunneller attacks Moscow.
October 11th 1998: Hecate attacks Kyushu.
October 12th 1998: Hecate defeated by unknown parahuman.
August 21st 1999: Djinn, the first Flying Kaiju, attacks San Francisco.
March 29th 2000: Czernobog attacks Cologne.
April 1st 2000: Cologne quarantined.
September 15th 2000: The Siberian Incident occurs, Hero dies.
September 16th 2000: Behemoth attacks Buenos Aires.
February 2nd 2001: Ellisburg quarantined.
2001 – 2011: Kaiju attacks continue, with the Jaeger program successfully eliminating nineteen Kaiju and two Humanoids. The Jaeger program is established at nine locations around the world, under the joint command of the PRT, Pan-European Council, and various national groups. The C.U.I. begins to develop their own counterpart to the program.
Chapter 1
- Location
- Ireland
By the time 3pm finally rolled around, Taylor could already feel her eyes beginning to close every time her concentration slipped. Given that this was the final class of the week before the glorious weekend, almost nobody else was aware enough to notice her eyelids drooping. Almost.
Something bounced off her head to a chorus of barely muffled giggles from her right. A piece of crumpled paper. Ha ha, very funny. Seemed this was going to be one of the better days, at least it was dry paper this time. The usual suspects were as tired and as lethargic today as she was, even if that probably wouldn't stop them for long. Still, if this was all she'd have to deal with this would be a good day. Dimly, she reached out to where a bunch of flies had gathered outside the window. It was meaningless and she knew it, but it was something, some insignificant avenue of escape, a glimpse into a world free of this. Free of ransacked lockers, insulting and threatening emails, poisonous smiles. She felt the flies outside the window beginning to twist and writhe in the air, swirling into vague patterns matching the idle movements of her hands. Subtly, of course, out of anyone's sight. The last thing she wanted was to draw any more attention to herself.
Unfortunately, that wasn't always an option, and fate's roulette wheel had picked Mr Gladly to be today's headache. It wasn't that he was a bad person, at least not consciously. He tried, oh how he tried. He tended to play nice with everyone, to try and be the cool teacher who managed to be more in touch with the kids. She didn't have the heart to tell him how much she hated him, from his far-too-cheerful voice to how he managed to make interesting things so incredibly dull. Currently he was rambling about the tensions between China and Japan over... something. And he had just asked her a question.
"Uh. Sorry, I didn't quite hear what you said."
Mr Gladly tsked loudly, drawing a titter from the rest of the class. "Now now Taylor, I know that it's Friday and you're eager to run home, but this is important. You can't just focus on the small scale stuff over here. Aiden, can you give her a hand?"
Taylor slumped in her seat, restraining the urge to claw her own eyes out. Another crumpled piece of paper landed almost gracefully on her desk. Despite herself she felt her hands moving to open it, and was greeted by a drawing of a goblin, eyes pointing in different directions, long scraggly black hair sticking out of its head at random. Several people had scribbled helpful comments in the margins. Ugly. Loner. Freak. Whore. Seemed that they had decided they couldn't wait until school ended. Distantly, she could feel the flies outside responding to her thoughts, to the humiliation and anger building in her chest. The bugs responded to her thoughts, conscious or not, and right now they were gathering, slowly but surely. In a few moments they would begin to arrive, through the vents, the gaps between the door and the walls. If she only waited, they would begin to swarm, lashing out at them in response to her rage, her humiliation. Taylor felt her shoulders shudder. No. I can't. Tempting as it was, she couldn't, wouldn't, descend to that level. To their level. Deep breaths. Taylor crumpled the paper and pocketed it. If nothing else, it was physical proof of her ongoing torment. She was rarely that lucky. Mr Gladly, of course, hadn't even noticed.
"All right guys, seeing as you're all falling asleep right about now, we can talk about something a little more flashy. The Jaeger Program, perhaps?"
Taylor had to hand it to him, he had her attention now. Out of the corner of her eye she could even see Sophia Hess perk up in her seat. Sophia was one of Taylor's personal tormentors, the brawn behind the others' brains. Well, "brains". Her attitude towards schoolwork was infamous among the class, so it'd have to be something pretty spectacular to get her to pay attention. I guess giant robots would have that effect. It does for me.
Mr Gladly smiled, and it was a genuine smile. "You'll all have heard some of this before, seen some of the pictures on the news, so I think you may as well hear it in a bit more depth. You'll all have seen the pictures of the Excalibur, back from when I was almost your age! Then there was the first one broadcast: Sawtooth versus Morning Star. Humanity's first total victory, the first of many!"
The class was rapt, but Taylor couldn't help feeling uneasy. There was a zeal in Mr Gladly's eyes that she hadn't seen before. It was an open secret among the staff that he was a huge cape fan, to the point that he even volunteered now and again downtown with the Brockton Bay Protectorate. The idea of Tinker-tech robots fighting unfathomable monsters and winning was like Christmas coming early for him. Not like I can disagree with that. Still...
It also seemed that he'd decided that Taylor's silence was something to be fixed. Perhaps he thought she simply needed to be brought out of her shell a little, perhaps the idea of someone not responding to his enthusiasm irked him. Either way, she was now a target. "So Taylor, a chance to redeem yourself! Can you name the five Tinkers credited for the Program?"
"Dragon. Sphere. Artificer. Arclight. Masamune." Taylor muttered reluctantly. Everyone knew these names, they were only the best known capes in existence who weren't called Scion or the Triumvirate. An international cabal of Tinkers whose work frequently walked around punching giant fish monsters? That makes people take notice. Mr Gladly was evidently satisfied regardless, as he mercifully moved on, eagerly resuming his monologue.
Taylor sighed, avoiding the sneering gazes she knew were boring into her. Although he was definitely unaware of what he'd done, Mr Gladly had handed her tormentors yet more ammunition. Geek. Brown-noser. Her fists clenched. Despite everything, it was interesting, and she could think of more than one night she'd spent delving into the Jaeger Five, the speculation, the drama, the robots. The Five were up there with the Triumvirate, Dragon especially. She'd almost single-handedly rescued the program after it was on the verge of abandonment, and its current incarnation was effectively her brainchild. The others provided key elements, be it systems or materials or weapons or whatever it was Masamune did, but Dragon was the glue that held them together.
The bell rang some time later, and Taylor immediately raced for the door, feeling the weight of the bag strap cutting into her shoulder. This was the most dangerous time for her to be here, and the sooner she managed to get out of her schoolmates' sight the better. She knew they hadn't been particularly active this week, meaning she was in a calm spell. If she could make it out before the inevitable happened...
She made it out of the building and most of the way towards the gate before someone bumped into her from behind, sending her sprawling to the ground. She felt her glasses ripped off her head, heard someone giggling behind her. An all-too familiar sound.
"Oh Taylor! You need to be more careful!" Emma Barnes' cheery voice rang out. "Let me help you up!" Emma. Even now, the mere sound of her voice sent a spasm down her spine.
Hands seized Taylor's arm roughly, jerking her vaguely upwards before shoving her to the ground again. A shocked gasp, clearly for the benefit of an audience. "Ohmygod I'm sorry! I didn't realise how heavy you were!" More giggles.
A shadow flitted across her face, slightly murky and blurred without her glasses but still unmistakably Sophia. It paused briefly in front of her, and reached down to the ground. There was a gentle tink of breaking glass. "I found something of yours, Hebert. No need to thank me." Her glasses were shoved back onto her face and Sophia's face swam into focus. Her face was alight with contempt, and her catlike grin was distorted into a hundred vicious sneers through the spiderweb of cracks now covering Taylor's left eye.
She felt her face settle into one that she had carefully crafted over the past few months: blankly looking down, eyes staring ahead and never making eye contact. Make them bored, make them think they've won. Tuning out the stares, the jeers, their mocking laughter. They know they've won. They always do. She had no options except those that would make things worse. The school couldn't do anything. Her dad couldn't do anything, although he would certainly try. The bugs? Sure, she could do it, set them on her tormentors, perhaps even on the school itself. It would be easy. She could even see it, see them screaming under a carpet of insects. Making them understand. The thought filled her with revulsion. Descending to their level, allowing them to kill the decent parts of who she was, that would be worse than anything.
Already they had turned away, laughing to themselves. Emma, Sophia and Madison, the three faces of her misery. The three were unique in their approaches, to an extent. Madison Clements was the most juvenile one, preferring things like glue on seats, dead roaches dropped into lunches, while also spreading the occasional rumour about her. Madison's goal seemed to be to ensure nobody would ever come to Taylor's aid. It worked.
Sophia Hess took a more direct approach, shoving her aside, stealing and breaking her things, the works. Whenever Taylor found out that something of hers was missing, or when a 'stray' football smashed into her head, then it was a safe bet that Sophia was behind it.
Then there was Emma Barnes. It was increasingly hard to believe that the two of them had ever been friends, let alone best friends to the point that many had remarked that they were almost sisters. Yet it was precisely this that Emma used as her main weapon. Every little shared secret, every time Taylor had let her guard down, Emma would use them all, without hesitation. Whatever it took to hurt. By the time the bus dropped her near her house, Taylor could still hear the mocking laughter echoing in her ears.
Home was in its usual dour state, Danny wasn't the most diligent tidier. No doubt he was away at another meeting, trying to reorganise the dockworkers yet again, which he loved to liken to herding a flock of particularly foul-mouthed sheep. Many evenings he would return home with takeaway food after twilight fell, and the two would eat in near-total silence. Other times he wouldn't return until long after dark, although at least there was always food in the fridge. Judging by the scrawled note left on the table, tonight was one of those nights. Danny Hebert wasn't an unkind soul, and there was no doubt that he meant well. Now and again he would try and gently pry into her school life, asking about her friends, how her day was, how she was liking her classes. Every time she would evade the questions, give non-committal mumbles, and every time he would relent. She had decided long ago that she wouldn't, couldn't, let him know the truth about it. Several months ago, after her spell in the psych ward, he had gone for a long talk with the school board. She knew the school had paid out quite the cash settlement, and none of them would look him in the eye anymore. While he himself would never admit it, his temper was legendary among his friends and co-workers. Taylor could only imagine what he'd been like talking to the teachers. If he found out about the rest of it, he'd lose it. However well-meaning, his help would only make things worse.
Tonight she was glad of her solitude. Tonight was different.
Taylor stepped out into the moonlight, locking the door behind her. Any outside observer might raise an eyebrow, but would conclude that there wasn't anything that remarkable about it. If they were particularly alert they might spot that she was wearing a dark suit of some sort of woven fabric. Perhaps if they approached her, they might be taken aback by the mask, the inhuman jawline, the yellow lenses for eyes. She paid this possibility no mind. People in this city learned not to pay too much attention to things. Taking a deep breath, she set out towards the Docks. I am Taylor Hebert, and I am going to be a superhero.
Something bounced off her head to a chorus of barely muffled giggles from her right. A piece of crumpled paper. Ha ha, very funny. Seemed this was going to be one of the better days, at least it was dry paper this time. The usual suspects were as tired and as lethargic today as she was, even if that probably wouldn't stop them for long. Still, if this was all she'd have to deal with this would be a good day. Dimly, she reached out to where a bunch of flies had gathered outside the window. It was meaningless and she knew it, but it was something, some insignificant avenue of escape, a glimpse into a world free of this. Free of ransacked lockers, insulting and threatening emails, poisonous smiles. She felt the flies outside the window beginning to twist and writhe in the air, swirling into vague patterns matching the idle movements of her hands. Subtly, of course, out of anyone's sight. The last thing she wanted was to draw any more attention to herself.
Unfortunately, that wasn't always an option, and fate's roulette wheel had picked Mr Gladly to be today's headache. It wasn't that he was a bad person, at least not consciously. He tried, oh how he tried. He tended to play nice with everyone, to try and be the cool teacher who managed to be more in touch with the kids. She didn't have the heart to tell him how much she hated him, from his far-too-cheerful voice to how he managed to make interesting things so incredibly dull. Currently he was rambling about the tensions between China and Japan over... something. And he had just asked her a question.
"Uh. Sorry, I didn't quite hear what you said."
Mr Gladly tsked loudly, drawing a titter from the rest of the class. "Now now Taylor, I know that it's Friday and you're eager to run home, but this is important. You can't just focus on the small scale stuff over here. Aiden, can you give her a hand?"
Taylor slumped in her seat, restraining the urge to claw her own eyes out. Another crumpled piece of paper landed almost gracefully on her desk. Despite herself she felt her hands moving to open it, and was greeted by a drawing of a goblin, eyes pointing in different directions, long scraggly black hair sticking out of its head at random. Several people had scribbled helpful comments in the margins. Ugly. Loner. Freak. Whore. Seemed that they had decided they couldn't wait until school ended. Distantly, she could feel the flies outside responding to her thoughts, to the humiliation and anger building in her chest. The bugs responded to her thoughts, conscious or not, and right now they were gathering, slowly but surely. In a few moments they would begin to arrive, through the vents, the gaps between the door and the walls. If she only waited, they would begin to swarm, lashing out at them in response to her rage, her humiliation. Taylor felt her shoulders shudder. No. I can't. Tempting as it was, she couldn't, wouldn't, descend to that level. To their level. Deep breaths. Taylor crumpled the paper and pocketed it. If nothing else, it was physical proof of her ongoing torment. She was rarely that lucky. Mr Gladly, of course, hadn't even noticed.
"All right guys, seeing as you're all falling asleep right about now, we can talk about something a little more flashy. The Jaeger Program, perhaps?"
Taylor had to hand it to him, he had her attention now. Out of the corner of her eye she could even see Sophia Hess perk up in her seat. Sophia was one of Taylor's personal tormentors, the brawn behind the others' brains. Well, "brains". Her attitude towards schoolwork was infamous among the class, so it'd have to be something pretty spectacular to get her to pay attention. I guess giant robots would have that effect. It does for me.
Mr Gladly smiled, and it was a genuine smile. "You'll all have heard some of this before, seen some of the pictures on the news, so I think you may as well hear it in a bit more depth. You'll all have seen the pictures of the Excalibur, back from when I was almost your age! Then there was the first one broadcast: Sawtooth versus Morning Star. Humanity's first total victory, the first of many!"
The class was rapt, but Taylor couldn't help feeling uneasy. There was a zeal in Mr Gladly's eyes that she hadn't seen before. It was an open secret among the staff that he was a huge cape fan, to the point that he even volunteered now and again downtown with the Brockton Bay Protectorate. The idea of Tinker-tech robots fighting unfathomable monsters and winning was like Christmas coming early for him. Not like I can disagree with that. Still...
It also seemed that he'd decided that Taylor's silence was something to be fixed. Perhaps he thought she simply needed to be brought out of her shell a little, perhaps the idea of someone not responding to his enthusiasm irked him. Either way, she was now a target. "So Taylor, a chance to redeem yourself! Can you name the five Tinkers credited for the Program?"
"Dragon. Sphere. Artificer. Arclight. Masamune." Taylor muttered reluctantly. Everyone knew these names, they were only the best known capes in existence who weren't called Scion or the Triumvirate. An international cabal of Tinkers whose work frequently walked around punching giant fish monsters? That makes people take notice. Mr Gladly was evidently satisfied regardless, as he mercifully moved on, eagerly resuming his monologue.
Taylor sighed, avoiding the sneering gazes she knew were boring into her. Although he was definitely unaware of what he'd done, Mr Gladly had handed her tormentors yet more ammunition. Geek. Brown-noser. Her fists clenched. Despite everything, it was interesting, and she could think of more than one night she'd spent delving into the Jaeger Five, the speculation, the drama, the robots. The Five were up there with the Triumvirate, Dragon especially. She'd almost single-handedly rescued the program after it was on the verge of abandonment, and its current incarnation was effectively her brainchild. The others provided key elements, be it systems or materials or weapons or whatever it was Masamune did, but Dragon was the glue that held them together.
The bell rang some time later, and Taylor immediately raced for the door, feeling the weight of the bag strap cutting into her shoulder. This was the most dangerous time for her to be here, and the sooner she managed to get out of her schoolmates' sight the better. She knew they hadn't been particularly active this week, meaning she was in a calm spell. If she could make it out before the inevitable happened...
She made it out of the building and most of the way towards the gate before someone bumped into her from behind, sending her sprawling to the ground. She felt her glasses ripped off her head, heard someone giggling behind her. An all-too familiar sound.
"Oh Taylor! You need to be more careful!" Emma Barnes' cheery voice rang out. "Let me help you up!" Emma. Even now, the mere sound of her voice sent a spasm down her spine.
Hands seized Taylor's arm roughly, jerking her vaguely upwards before shoving her to the ground again. A shocked gasp, clearly for the benefit of an audience. "Ohmygod I'm sorry! I didn't realise how heavy you were!" More giggles.
A shadow flitted across her face, slightly murky and blurred without her glasses but still unmistakably Sophia. It paused briefly in front of her, and reached down to the ground. There was a gentle tink of breaking glass. "I found something of yours, Hebert. No need to thank me." Her glasses were shoved back onto her face and Sophia's face swam into focus. Her face was alight with contempt, and her catlike grin was distorted into a hundred vicious sneers through the spiderweb of cracks now covering Taylor's left eye.
She felt her face settle into one that she had carefully crafted over the past few months: blankly looking down, eyes staring ahead and never making eye contact. Make them bored, make them think they've won. Tuning out the stares, the jeers, their mocking laughter. They know they've won. They always do. She had no options except those that would make things worse. The school couldn't do anything. Her dad couldn't do anything, although he would certainly try. The bugs? Sure, she could do it, set them on her tormentors, perhaps even on the school itself. It would be easy. She could even see it, see them screaming under a carpet of insects. Making them understand. The thought filled her with revulsion. Descending to their level, allowing them to kill the decent parts of who she was, that would be worse than anything.
Already they had turned away, laughing to themselves. Emma, Sophia and Madison, the three faces of her misery. The three were unique in their approaches, to an extent. Madison Clements was the most juvenile one, preferring things like glue on seats, dead roaches dropped into lunches, while also spreading the occasional rumour about her. Madison's goal seemed to be to ensure nobody would ever come to Taylor's aid. It worked.
Sophia Hess took a more direct approach, shoving her aside, stealing and breaking her things, the works. Whenever Taylor found out that something of hers was missing, or when a 'stray' football smashed into her head, then it was a safe bet that Sophia was behind it.
Then there was Emma Barnes. It was increasingly hard to believe that the two of them had ever been friends, let alone best friends to the point that many had remarked that they were almost sisters. Yet it was precisely this that Emma used as her main weapon. Every little shared secret, every time Taylor had let her guard down, Emma would use them all, without hesitation. Whatever it took to hurt. By the time the bus dropped her near her house, Taylor could still hear the mocking laughter echoing in her ears.
Home was in its usual dour state, Danny wasn't the most diligent tidier. No doubt he was away at another meeting, trying to reorganise the dockworkers yet again, which he loved to liken to herding a flock of particularly foul-mouthed sheep. Many evenings he would return home with takeaway food after twilight fell, and the two would eat in near-total silence. Other times he wouldn't return until long after dark, although at least there was always food in the fridge. Judging by the scrawled note left on the table, tonight was one of those nights. Danny Hebert wasn't an unkind soul, and there was no doubt that he meant well. Now and again he would try and gently pry into her school life, asking about her friends, how her day was, how she was liking her classes. Every time she would evade the questions, give non-committal mumbles, and every time he would relent. She had decided long ago that she wouldn't, couldn't, let him know the truth about it. Several months ago, after her spell in the psych ward, he had gone for a long talk with the school board. She knew the school had paid out quite the cash settlement, and none of them would look him in the eye anymore. While he himself would never admit it, his temper was legendary among his friends and co-workers. Taylor could only imagine what he'd been like talking to the teachers. If he found out about the rest of it, he'd lose it. However well-meaning, his help would only make things worse.
Tonight she was glad of her solitude. Tonight was different.
Taylor stepped out into the moonlight, locking the door behind her. Any outside observer might raise an eyebrow, but would conclude that there wasn't anything that remarkable about it. If they were particularly alert they might spot that she was wearing a dark suit of some sort of woven fabric. Perhaps if they approached her, they might be taken aback by the mask, the inhuman jawline, the yellow lenses for eyes. She paid this possibility no mind. People in this city learned not to pay too much attention to things. Taking a deep breath, she set out towards the Docks. I am Taylor Hebert, and I am going to be a superhero.
- Location
- Oceanside
I am very interested. Pacific Rim is honestly one of my favorite movies of all time, and you're meshing it pretty well into the Worm setting.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Breaking glasses isn't as easy as it was in the seventies. Even the cheapest lenses are plastics by 2011, albeit cheaper breakable plastic frames would be the low budget choice. Breaking the bridge or twisting metal frames into a pretzel was and is a common bully theme.
It sticks out more in Worm with a villain that kills with glass --Shatterbird-- wandering around with the S9. Am actually surprised it isn't mentioned more.
Your story, your setting, and a damn fine start too. Am hoping she manages to solve a drone cost issue by being able to pilot missiles right down a Kaiju's throat with her bugs.
The bug power is underrated. She should give Emma lice that chew her hair roots on one side. Then once it is known that Emma has them, and only a few in class caught them as well, Taylor gets them (mild case of course) and can explain how she used honey in her hair to suffocate the lice out. Not to the trio of course, but to themurse. Emma will of course try it, along with Sophia, because it worked for Hebert... And then the bees! Ants chewing bra straps. Roaches in the lunch line.
It sticks out more in Worm with a villain that kills with glass --Shatterbird-- wandering around with the S9. Am actually surprised it isn't mentioned more.
Your story, your setting, and a damn fine start too. Am hoping she manages to solve a drone cost issue by being able to pilot missiles right down a Kaiju's throat with her bugs.
The bug power is underrated. She should give Emma lice that chew her hair roots on one side. Then once it is known that Emma has them, and only a few in class caught them as well, Taylor gets them (mild case of course) and can explain how she used honey in her hair to suffocate the lice out. Not to the trio of course, but to themurse. Emma will of course try it, along with Sophia, because it worked for Hebert... And then the bees! Ants chewing bra straps. Roaches in the lunch line.
Chapter 2
- Location
- Ireland
The Docks was not a place to be found after dark. After the international shipping routes had begun to dry up, primarily due to the Kaiju using cargo ships to floss their teeth, this and other areas like it in cities around the globe had been hit hard, and now served as a refuge for those with nowhere else to go. Naturally, this made it a haven for all kinds of illicit activity. The potential for real money combined with the mere trickle of more honest work available meant that there was no shortage of goons for the various gangs in the city. This in turn made the area very attractive to any up-and-coming supervillains, of which Brockton Bay had more than a few. In fact it had only been dethroned a few months ago from its spot as the fifth city most densely inhabited by parahumans, after Kaiju Argus attacked Seattle, as the vultures descended on the still reeling city. Taylor felt a shiver course through her that had nothing to do with the cold. Even though a Kaiju attack was nowhere near as devastating nowadays as it had used to be, after all Seattle was hardly in as bad a state as Sao Paulo or Paris, the damn things were still pretty horrifying.
Blinking to clear her head, Taylor sent the swarm she'd been steadily gathering over the past several minutes to spread itself over the surrounding rooftops, out of sight. The only people that would be on the streets this late were drunks, whores and gang members, and none of them would react well to seeing a swarm of bugs following them around. Despite that, the streets were very empty tonight, with only the occasional shuffling figure to break the monotony of the darkened street. I don't know whether I should be pleased or not. Nothing happening means no danger, but that is kinda the point. This was her third week running doing this particular route, and not once had she actually run into anything more than a mugger or an unusually spirited drunk. No gangs. No chance to prove herself. No supervillains, although perhaps that wasn't something to complain about.
Although few building in the area had any lights on, Taylor could see one glaring exception. A squat building, utterly nondescript but for the three men standing guard outside, one on either side of the main door and another slightly hidden, in an alcove several feet from the door. Anytime the door was opened light would stream through it, but aside from that the building looked indistinguishable from those surrounding it. Someone had gone to considerable lengths to conceal it, meaning there was no way it was legitimate.
It took half a second to command her bugs to stop, and for a few of the smaller, less noticeable flies to begin seeping in through cracks in the windows, under the door, hiding in people's coats as they entered. Soon, she was able to get a feel for the interior as the flies zoomed aimlessly around, occasionally bouncing off walls, ceiling and people. Although the building itself was seemingly quite dilapidated, judging by the strength of the wind on the upper floors, the basement was quite secure, to the point that it took her several minutes to get a decent number of bugs into it. A large, warm room, bustling with people, most of whom seemed to be sitting down at tables. Guards were stationed beside every door, immobile. One bug alighted on one of the tables, and was almost immediately sent spinning in a wide circle. Taylor nodded.
A casino. That explains the secrecy. For them to be operating out of what was unmistakably gang territory, there was no way they weren't involved with them somehow. If she was lucky, they might even be directly involved with one of the more major gangs, rather than simply paying them off. Finally, something concrete. While it was below the Protectorate's pay grade, it couldn't do any harm to start her newfound career by getting on the law's good side. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forwards.
She made it three steps before everything went black. Everything. Not even the faintest glimmer of moonlight could be seen, only a deep, impenetrable darkness. In a panic, she raised a hand to her face. Nothing. I'm fucking blind! She called for her bugs to come, until they surrounded her, coating every surface nearby. I can tell where they are. I won't hit anything. She reached a wall and sat against it, arms trembling despite herself. Whatever this was, it wasn't just darkness. She could feel oily wisps slithering over her skin, permeating through the silk. Even the bugs could feel it, a faint pressure driving them away from the casino. The sound of the wind had stopped, and she suddenly realised that it wasn't the only thing to have quietened down. Whatever this thing was, it deafened people as well as blinding them. Deep breaths, Taylor. Cautiously, she sent her swarm outwards from her, until they reached what was unmistakably the casino. The three guards were all there, floundering and flailing in the darkness. Something landed on the ground, squashing the bugs beneath it. The remaining ones flew away, withdrawing to a safer distance as two more things landed on the ground beside the first. They were big, bigger even than most cars, and the few bugs that had landed on them could feel them moving rhythmically. Breathing. Those things are alive! From the bugs still sitting on the casino guards, she felt them suddenly jerking around, until one by one they soundlessly collapsed to the ground. This could only mean one thing.
Capes. Nobody that she knew of in the Protectorate could blind people like this, not even Armsmaster. Miss Militia would have to have used a flashbang, which this definitely wasn't. Leaving only one option. Villains. Oh hell. A robbery, and she just had to be stuck in the thick of it. This is it. Now or never.
One command was all it took, and she felt her swarm descend on the three hulking shapes and their four human-sized passengers, but she commanded only the less venomous ones to sting. It didn't take them long to react. One dropped to the ground immediately, covering their face. Their mask wasn't capable of keeping the bugs out, she could feel them trapped between skin and plastic. The others seemed less vulnerable, with two rushing inside. They're after the money. Taylor ordered the bugs attacking them to pull back slightly, to focus on getting in their faces rather than stinging. The last thing she wanted to do was send someone into anaphylactic shock. She doubted very much if the Protectorate would welcome a murderer on board.
Taylor knew her power wouldn't let her win in a straight fight. Alexandria she most certainly was not. What it did, however, was give her the means of scaring the pants off of almost anyone, and commanding the attention of every bug within a block was nothing to sniff at. If she could harness that, drive the villains away until someone called the heroes, she'd have a chance. All she needed was to keep them scared, keep them off-balance.
Without warning, the darkness lifted, granting her a clear view of the building. Where the guards had been were now three enormous creatures, exactly as massive as she'd expected them to be. They seemed almost dinosaur-like, with plates of bone and coils of muscle visible where skin should be. Aside from occasionally swiping at their heads, they seemed utterly unfazed by the roiling mass of bugs flowing around them. Beside them were the remaining two people, one of whom was desperately trying to shield their face from the bites and stings, while the other raised a hand, pointing directly at Taylor and shouting something. He wore an ornate white mask and a silvery coronet, a ruffled white shirt with skintight leggings tucked into knee-high boots. Aside from the mask, he wouldn't have looked all that out of place on any street downtown.
The other staggered to her feet with an enraged growl, swiping a moth away from one eyehole. She wore a mask that seemed more in line with a child's Halloween costume, a plastic dog's head with teeth bared in a snarl. Other than that she seemed to be wearing normal clothes, combat boots, a thick jacket and a ragged looking sleeveless t-shirt. I could feel the bugs nestling between her clothes and skin, occasionally directing one of the less harmful ones to bite. Keep them off balance, don't give them time to think. She whistled, clear and piercing, and Taylor saw three pairs of beady eyes swivel to stare at her. The creature to the right opened its mouth wide, revealing a set of vicious teeth that wouldn't look out of place on a shark, and charged.
Taylor threw herself aside as the jaws snapped shut in the space she'd stood in not a moment before. A swarm of bugs descended on the thing's head, clustering into its eyes, blocking its vision. It stopped short and snorted, irritably clawing at its face. She had bought herself some time. It seemed the thing's eyes and nose were its only weak points, everywhere else was either bone or muscle tough as teak. That could have gone better.
Inside the building, she felt her swarm attacking the other two figures, or trying to. One seemed to be completely shielded from the bugs, which simply buzzed around their face fruitlessly, while the other only had a small amount of skin showing and seemed to be simply ignoring the bugs unless they actively bit. Without going all out on them, there was no way Taylor was going to be able to prevent them achieving whatever they had in mind. What she could do was delay them, perhaps to the point that the Protectorate or someone else arrived. She could feel them swiping fruitlessly at the mass of bugs, trying to clear them out of their faces so they could see.
As she tried to run, her leg went limp beneath her and she fell, landing hard on one hand. Pain coursed through her, dulled by adrenaline. Her good arm collapsed beneath her as she tried to recover, just as the beast geared up for another run. It's him, the other one. Some kind of temporary paralysis? Induced muscular spasms? Telekinesis, something targeting the air around her hand? Whatever it was, it was hitting her hard, and she needed to figure something out. Fast.
In unison, every bug she'd managed to get into the monster's eye stung and bit and writhed, some trying to wriggle their way past the thing's eyelid. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a part of her squirm at the thought but, well, it was a monster. She was sure nobody would mind. As her leg spasmed beneath her again, she sent another swarm at the guy in white, who promptly fled. No change, still can't move my fucking legs. He doesn't need line of sight? Distance, then. I need to get him away. Gathering her bugs into clusters, she began to block off all but one of the streets, herding him away from her until she managed to regain control of herself.
She felt the bugs in the creature's eye vanish from her senses and turned, seeing the thing scraping violently at its face. In moments it would be on her again, and she had nothing, no more tricks up her sleeve. Except one. Pepper spray. She gripped the small canister, roughly the size of a pen. Her dad had bought it for her when she'd started to take her running routines seriously, since even at its best Brockton Bay was not a place you wanted to be alone without a weapon of some sort. Despite this, she'd never had to use it until now. This stuff had better be good.
The creature growled, a deep bass rumbling that seemed to shake the stones on the ground. It locked eyes with Taylor, and the world seemed to slow. She could sense the spider crouched over the thing's good eye, easing itself into position. Just a few more moments.
She felt it tense, moments before it charged. A subtle shift in the positions of the bugs on its legs, still trying fruitlessly to bite and sting. Midway through its initial run the spider struck, sinking its fangs into the soft jelly beneath it. Disorientated, the thing wavered, hesitated just long enough for the pepper spray to strike it directly on its snout, under what was almost certainly its nose. It yelped, falling to the ground and scraping desperately at its face. Taylor had time for a single moment of proud relief before something slammed into her from the side and she felt herself flying.
"You know, you're really not making any friends here."
With a grunt of effort, Taylor managed to open eyes that she hadn't even realised were closed. Two people and one slavering monster swam into focus above her, still surrounded by a diffuse halo of confused bugs. The speaker was a girl in a skintight black-striped purple bodysuit, grinning down from behind a domino mask. Beside her was Dog-mask, who was glaring at Taylor contemptuously. The barest hint of a victorious smirk was visible beneath her mask. A third approached from the edge of her peripheral vision, wreathed in an aura of black smoke that seemed to ooze from his every pore. Only his size hinted that he was probably male.
White-mask sauntered in from behind Taylor, barely sparing her a glance. There was an unexpected grace to his movements, a sharp contrast to the rest of his team. He could almost have been a dancer. "Hey Bitch, I think you broke something."
"Surprisingly she didn't, and you know Bitch doesn't hold back." Domino-mask cocked her head to one side. "Reinforced costume, huh? DIY too. Very spooky, I like it. It's been a while since I've seen someone go that route. Word of advice, don't move around too much. Just relax, although the fuzz will be here in a bit."
Bitch? That must be Dog-mask, but what kind of a cape name was Bitch? Were those creatures supposed to be dogs?
Black-smoke stepped forwards. "It's time. You know they got the alarm out, no thanks to our friend here. They could be here any moment."
"We have time. I know the Protectorate and I know how far away they are. We're safe enough for now, for another minute or so." She glanced at Taylor, and for a brief moment her smile seemed to slip ever so slightly at the edges. "Besides, she didn't do too badly for a newbie. Call it honour among thieves." Domino-mask turned her grin on her companion, who grunted, clearly unconvinced. With that, the two hopped onto the back of one the thing, the dog, and were gone, obliterated by a massive dark cloud.
Despite the absolute darkness, she could feel the bugs settling on the street, the sides of the buildings on either side, giving her a partial 3D map of her surroundings. As she walked, humiliation started to build within her, slowly replacing the shock and twinges of pain. Great start to your hero career, Taylor. Maybe next time you can hold the door open for them. Her first run-in with another cape and she had been utterly trounced, swatted aside almost as an afterthought.
The darkness ended abruptly, and as it did she found that she could hear an engine, surprisingly close by but with an odd timbre to the sound, as if it was coming from a tunnel. Looking back, she saw that the darkness had persisted, but that she'd simply left its influence. It was as though the street simply ended around its halfway mark. Need to get out of here before that disappears. A no-name cape walking away from the scene of a robbery? That would not end well.
Drawing her bugs around her, Taylor limped into the night.
Blinking to clear her head, Taylor sent the swarm she'd been steadily gathering over the past several minutes to spread itself over the surrounding rooftops, out of sight. The only people that would be on the streets this late were drunks, whores and gang members, and none of them would react well to seeing a swarm of bugs following them around. Despite that, the streets were very empty tonight, with only the occasional shuffling figure to break the monotony of the darkened street. I don't know whether I should be pleased or not. Nothing happening means no danger, but that is kinda the point. This was her third week running doing this particular route, and not once had she actually run into anything more than a mugger or an unusually spirited drunk. No gangs. No chance to prove herself. No supervillains, although perhaps that wasn't something to complain about.
Although few building in the area had any lights on, Taylor could see one glaring exception. A squat building, utterly nondescript but for the three men standing guard outside, one on either side of the main door and another slightly hidden, in an alcove several feet from the door. Anytime the door was opened light would stream through it, but aside from that the building looked indistinguishable from those surrounding it. Someone had gone to considerable lengths to conceal it, meaning there was no way it was legitimate.
It took half a second to command her bugs to stop, and for a few of the smaller, less noticeable flies to begin seeping in through cracks in the windows, under the door, hiding in people's coats as they entered. Soon, she was able to get a feel for the interior as the flies zoomed aimlessly around, occasionally bouncing off walls, ceiling and people. Although the building itself was seemingly quite dilapidated, judging by the strength of the wind on the upper floors, the basement was quite secure, to the point that it took her several minutes to get a decent number of bugs into it. A large, warm room, bustling with people, most of whom seemed to be sitting down at tables. Guards were stationed beside every door, immobile. One bug alighted on one of the tables, and was almost immediately sent spinning in a wide circle. Taylor nodded.
A casino. That explains the secrecy. For them to be operating out of what was unmistakably gang territory, there was no way they weren't involved with them somehow. If she was lucky, they might even be directly involved with one of the more major gangs, rather than simply paying them off. Finally, something concrete. While it was below the Protectorate's pay grade, it couldn't do any harm to start her newfound career by getting on the law's good side. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forwards.
She made it three steps before everything went black. Everything. Not even the faintest glimmer of moonlight could be seen, only a deep, impenetrable darkness. In a panic, she raised a hand to her face. Nothing. I'm fucking blind! She called for her bugs to come, until they surrounded her, coating every surface nearby. I can tell where they are. I won't hit anything. She reached a wall and sat against it, arms trembling despite herself. Whatever this was, it wasn't just darkness. She could feel oily wisps slithering over her skin, permeating through the silk. Even the bugs could feel it, a faint pressure driving them away from the casino. The sound of the wind had stopped, and she suddenly realised that it wasn't the only thing to have quietened down. Whatever this thing was, it deafened people as well as blinding them. Deep breaths, Taylor. Cautiously, she sent her swarm outwards from her, until they reached what was unmistakably the casino. The three guards were all there, floundering and flailing in the darkness. Something landed on the ground, squashing the bugs beneath it. The remaining ones flew away, withdrawing to a safer distance as two more things landed on the ground beside the first. They were big, bigger even than most cars, and the few bugs that had landed on them could feel them moving rhythmically. Breathing. Those things are alive! From the bugs still sitting on the casino guards, she felt them suddenly jerking around, until one by one they soundlessly collapsed to the ground. This could only mean one thing.
Capes. Nobody that she knew of in the Protectorate could blind people like this, not even Armsmaster. Miss Militia would have to have used a flashbang, which this definitely wasn't. Leaving only one option. Villains. Oh hell. A robbery, and she just had to be stuck in the thick of it. This is it. Now or never.
One command was all it took, and she felt her swarm descend on the three hulking shapes and their four human-sized passengers, but she commanded only the less venomous ones to sting. It didn't take them long to react. One dropped to the ground immediately, covering their face. Their mask wasn't capable of keeping the bugs out, she could feel them trapped between skin and plastic. The others seemed less vulnerable, with two rushing inside. They're after the money. Taylor ordered the bugs attacking them to pull back slightly, to focus on getting in their faces rather than stinging. The last thing she wanted to do was send someone into anaphylactic shock. She doubted very much if the Protectorate would welcome a murderer on board.
Taylor knew her power wouldn't let her win in a straight fight. Alexandria she most certainly was not. What it did, however, was give her the means of scaring the pants off of almost anyone, and commanding the attention of every bug within a block was nothing to sniff at. If she could harness that, drive the villains away until someone called the heroes, she'd have a chance. All she needed was to keep them scared, keep them off-balance.
Without warning, the darkness lifted, granting her a clear view of the building. Where the guards had been were now three enormous creatures, exactly as massive as she'd expected them to be. They seemed almost dinosaur-like, with plates of bone and coils of muscle visible where skin should be. Aside from occasionally swiping at their heads, they seemed utterly unfazed by the roiling mass of bugs flowing around them. Beside them were the remaining two people, one of whom was desperately trying to shield their face from the bites and stings, while the other raised a hand, pointing directly at Taylor and shouting something. He wore an ornate white mask and a silvery coronet, a ruffled white shirt with skintight leggings tucked into knee-high boots. Aside from the mask, he wouldn't have looked all that out of place on any street downtown.
The other staggered to her feet with an enraged growl, swiping a moth away from one eyehole. She wore a mask that seemed more in line with a child's Halloween costume, a plastic dog's head with teeth bared in a snarl. Other than that she seemed to be wearing normal clothes, combat boots, a thick jacket and a ragged looking sleeveless t-shirt. I could feel the bugs nestling between her clothes and skin, occasionally directing one of the less harmful ones to bite. Keep them off balance, don't give them time to think. She whistled, clear and piercing, and Taylor saw three pairs of beady eyes swivel to stare at her. The creature to the right opened its mouth wide, revealing a set of vicious teeth that wouldn't look out of place on a shark, and charged.
Taylor threw herself aside as the jaws snapped shut in the space she'd stood in not a moment before. A swarm of bugs descended on the thing's head, clustering into its eyes, blocking its vision. It stopped short and snorted, irritably clawing at its face. She had bought herself some time. It seemed the thing's eyes and nose were its only weak points, everywhere else was either bone or muscle tough as teak. That could have gone better.
Inside the building, she felt her swarm attacking the other two figures, or trying to. One seemed to be completely shielded from the bugs, which simply buzzed around their face fruitlessly, while the other only had a small amount of skin showing and seemed to be simply ignoring the bugs unless they actively bit. Without going all out on them, there was no way Taylor was going to be able to prevent them achieving whatever they had in mind. What she could do was delay them, perhaps to the point that the Protectorate or someone else arrived. She could feel them swiping fruitlessly at the mass of bugs, trying to clear them out of their faces so they could see.
As she tried to run, her leg went limp beneath her and she fell, landing hard on one hand. Pain coursed through her, dulled by adrenaline. Her good arm collapsed beneath her as she tried to recover, just as the beast geared up for another run. It's him, the other one. Some kind of temporary paralysis? Induced muscular spasms? Telekinesis, something targeting the air around her hand? Whatever it was, it was hitting her hard, and she needed to figure something out. Fast.
In unison, every bug she'd managed to get into the monster's eye stung and bit and writhed, some trying to wriggle their way past the thing's eyelid. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a part of her squirm at the thought but, well, it was a monster. She was sure nobody would mind. As her leg spasmed beneath her again, she sent another swarm at the guy in white, who promptly fled. No change, still can't move my fucking legs. He doesn't need line of sight? Distance, then. I need to get him away. Gathering her bugs into clusters, she began to block off all but one of the streets, herding him away from her until she managed to regain control of herself.
She felt the bugs in the creature's eye vanish from her senses and turned, seeing the thing scraping violently at its face. In moments it would be on her again, and she had nothing, no more tricks up her sleeve. Except one. Pepper spray. She gripped the small canister, roughly the size of a pen. Her dad had bought it for her when she'd started to take her running routines seriously, since even at its best Brockton Bay was not a place you wanted to be alone without a weapon of some sort. Despite this, she'd never had to use it until now. This stuff had better be good.
The creature growled, a deep bass rumbling that seemed to shake the stones on the ground. It locked eyes with Taylor, and the world seemed to slow. She could sense the spider crouched over the thing's good eye, easing itself into position. Just a few more moments.
She felt it tense, moments before it charged. A subtle shift in the positions of the bugs on its legs, still trying fruitlessly to bite and sting. Midway through its initial run the spider struck, sinking its fangs into the soft jelly beneath it. Disorientated, the thing wavered, hesitated just long enough for the pepper spray to strike it directly on its snout, under what was almost certainly its nose. It yelped, falling to the ground and scraping desperately at its face. Taylor had time for a single moment of proud relief before something slammed into her from the side and she felt herself flying.
"You know, you're really not making any friends here."
With a grunt of effort, Taylor managed to open eyes that she hadn't even realised were closed. Two people and one slavering monster swam into focus above her, still surrounded by a diffuse halo of confused bugs. The speaker was a girl in a skintight black-striped purple bodysuit, grinning down from behind a domino mask. Beside her was Dog-mask, who was glaring at Taylor contemptuously. The barest hint of a victorious smirk was visible beneath her mask. A third approached from the edge of her peripheral vision, wreathed in an aura of black smoke that seemed to ooze from his every pore. Only his size hinted that he was probably male.
White-mask sauntered in from behind Taylor, barely sparing her a glance. There was an unexpected grace to his movements, a sharp contrast to the rest of his team. He could almost have been a dancer. "Hey Bitch, I think you broke something."
"Surprisingly she didn't, and you know Bitch doesn't hold back." Domino-mask cocked her head to one side. "Reinforced costume, huh? DIY too. Very spooky, I like it. It's been a while since I've seen someone go that route. Word of advice, don't move around too much. Just relax, although the fuzz will be here in a bit."
Bitch? That must be Dog-mask, but what kind of a cape name was Bitch? Were those creatures supposed to be dogs?
Black-smoke stepped forwards. "It's time. You know they got the alarm out, no thanks to our friend here. They could be here any moment."
"We have time. I know the Protectorate and I know how far away they are. We're safe enough for now, for another minute or so." She glanced at Taylor, and for a brief moment her smile seemed to slip ever so slightly at the edges. "Besides, she didn't do too badly for a newbie. Call it honour among thieves." Domino-mask turned her grin on her companion, who grunted, clearly unconvinced. With that, the two hopped onto the back of one the thing, the dog, and were gone, obliterated by a massive dark cloud.
Despite the absolute darkness, she could feel the bugs settling on the street, the sides of the buildings on either side, giving her a partial 3D map of her surroundings. As she walked, humiliation started to build within her, slowly replacing the shock and twinges of pain. Great start to your hero career, Taylor. Maybe next time you can hold the door open for them. Her first run-in with another cape and she had been utterly trounced, swatted aside almost as an afterthought.
The darkness ended abruptly, and as it did she found that she could hear an engine, surprisingly close by but with an odd timbre to the sound, as if it was coming from a tunnel. Looking back, she saw that the darkness had persisted, but that she'd simply left its influence. It was as though the street simply ended around its halfway mark. Need to get out of here before that disappears. A no-name cape walking away from the scene of a robbery? That would not end well.
Drawing her bugs around her, Taylor limped into the night.
Interlude 1
- Location
- Ireland
Sirens split the night as the first of the PRT vans finally rounded the corner, getting their first good look at the building in question. The local PD had already set up a perimeter around it, respectfully stepping aside when the vans screeched to a halt alongside it. They knew the score. Getting involved with cape problems was rarely, if ever, worth the trouble, and tonight was no different.
Dauntless sighed as he examined the building. He knew the place, if only by reputation. It had been one of several 'underground' gambling rings in the area, populated by the usual mix of the desperate and the parasites who preyed on them. This place in particular had been investigated several times for its suspected use as a money laundering front, but to no avail.
Armsmaster was waiting for him as he approached the entrance. Despite his age, the man was a relatively recent entry into the Protectorate ranks and his rise was positively meteoric. Dauntless had no doubt that he would get his own team soon, once a suitable spot became available. For now though, Dauntless was glad to have him.
"Dauntless. The police have got statements from the staff and patrons, all painting the same picture. Coordinated attack by a team including at least one parahuman capable of generating darkness."
"The Undersiders again." Dauntless sighed. "They're getting bolder. Attacking more frequently. I take it nobody saw anything that might be useful?"
"I spoke with one of the door guards, said they were attacked almost immediately after the darkness hit. It's reasonable to assume that they used Hellhound's dogs to travel."
"So in other words we've learned nothing new from them." Bastards. They were slippery, and despite multiple jobs they had yet to make any kind of slip up, to the point that the PRT had yet to even confirm what powers they had beyond the immediately obvious. Whatever they were, they made good use of them, that was for sure.
"Not quite. Look at the door." Armsmaster gestured to the main door, which someone had wedged open. It was a heavy door, wooden but reinforced with several metal attachments which had been arranged to as to be invisible from the outside, to maintain the illusion that there was nothing noteworthy about this building. Dauntless eyed it suspiciously for a moment, before it clicked.
"No damage, not even to the lock. They didn't have to force their entry." Dauntless frowned. "The place was open. It's entirely possible they managed to get through conventionally. You know we can't go around making assumptions about what they can do. Making assumptions and being wrong can often be much worse than simply not knowing."
"I am right though. It's exactly the same inside, no signs of forced entry on the strongroom door. They knew the codes. Either they have connections, a man on the inside, or they didn't need to be given the codes at all. They have a Thinker who can bypass security systems. This would also explain some of their previous successes."
He's right, of course. We both know it. But there are ways and there are means, and this ain't it. Dauntless walked carefully through the door, pausing briefly to note the peeling layers of paint on the walls. Somebody had gone to a lot of trouble to make the place presentable, once. Whoever they were, they hadn't tried for some time. The casino room itself was underground, cluttered with the various knick-knacks the patrons had left behind when the villains had struck. Another door lay ajar at the far end of the room, surrounded by cameras and a serious looking lock. He stayed behind, scanning the room as Armsmaster went to check the door. Fat lot of good it did them.
"Dauntless. I have something." Armsmaster emerged from the doorway, beckoning him over. "There's about fifteen thousand dollars here, secured in these safes."
What? "They left something behind? Why? All the accounts I've heard show that they left well before anyone arrived. How much did they take?"
"Three safes unopened, five emptied. The one I opened held around five thousand."
Dauntless repressed the urge to reprimand him. Armsmaster was every inch the type to bend the rules if it suited him, if there was some sort of advantage to be gained. While it served him well in his field work, Dauntless knew that it had earned him several pointed remarks from the Director. Still, knowledge was power and this was certainly something useful. "Any ideas as to why they stopped short of taking the lot? I doubt it was the goodness of their hearts."
"They ran out of time. Grue's darkness dissipates after about twenty minutes according to data from previous run-ins, and it began to fade roughly seventeen minutes after I arrived. They were not here then."
Dauntless sighed, before something caught his eye. A grey-brown smear across the wall near the lock, with what appeared to be half a spider arranged around it. Repressing a shudder, he leaned in close, turning his gaze to the floor. No way is this natural. "Someone interfered. Look."
Armsmaster followed his gaze. "Insects. Far too many for a place like this. You think they ran into another cape." The corpses of roughly ten or twenty bugs of various shapes and sizes littered the floor around the lock, with almost none anywhere to be seen in the rest of the room. "Bees, wasps, a cockroach. Exactly the kind of bugs you'd use to attack someone. They must have been attacked when they reached the lock, slowed down just enough to force them to cut and run."
"There was another cape here alright, one who didn't come forward. Are there any bug-themed rogues in the city? New villains? Mercs?"
"None." Armsmaster's reply came without hesitation, no doubt accessing the data running through his helmet computer. What I wouldn't give to have one of those. Unfortunately, Dauntless' powers wreaked merry hell on most things electronic, and even his earpiece had had to be specially designed. "Not even in any of the surrounding areas. Closest thing I can find is a rogue from Philadelphia, but this isn't his MO."
"So whoever they are they're new and they want to lay low." He sighed. Maybe we'll get lucky, maybe it won't be yet another villain. Unfortunately, it wasn't likely. The destabilisation arising from the Crownless' arrival had stretched the Protectorate thin, and it wasn't unfeasible that a new villain might see the city as an easy target. "Any guesses as to who ran this place? I'd bet my bottom dollar that this place isn't above board."
"Speculation at best. This is ABB territory, but only just. Plus, none of the employees here are of Asian descent, and we know Lung is quite particular about that. The Merchants don't run businesses, neither do Über and Leet, and the Crownless haven't been here long enough. That leaves only two options: Coil or the Empire."
"Coil's a secretive bastard, if it is him then we won't find anything useful here. Not that Kaiser is any better. Still, get the PRT to track down everyone who was here tonight. One of them will probably turn out to be our mystery cape, and they might provide us with some answers as to who runs this place. I'll get them to look out for anything that could be a newbie experimenting with their powers, they usually leave some sort of trail. Oh, and get anything that looks even remotely suspicious over to PHQ, might find something from that. I'm heading back out."
The night air was cool on his face as he left, speeding back to the local HQ. He could feel each impact jolt up his leg ever so slightly as he kicked off the air, weaving around the buildings. It had been a while since he'd gotten to fly anywhere, but he never really got to enjoy it anymore. Who knew I would ever get bored of flying? Shaking himself mentally, he felt his mind drift back to the casino. Armsmaster was very capable, and if there was anything in that building he would find it. Dauntless knew that the man was driven, to the point that he'd even spent entire nights in his workshop. All efforts to get him to relax had been fruitless. Still, it was an attitude that would serve him well.
The letter was waiting for him when he finally reached his office, sitting neatly on top of his desk. The silver and gold insignia glittered in the light as he picked it up, a dragon spreading its wings surrounded by stars. The Ranger Program responded! Heart racing, he gingerly opened the envelope, scanning the page.
"Good news?" Dauntless turned to see Battery lounging against the door frame. She was one of the Protectorate's newer members, graduating not long ago after a fairly stellar period in the Wards. She was a real up-and-comer, albeit still fairly inexperienced. She was in costume too, probably on her way back from patrol. Damn it all. They didn't have to find out so soon. Her face fell as her eyes met his. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean - "
"It's fine, really." He said, too quickly. She knows, she fucking knows. God damn it. Almost on instinct, he tried to surreptitiously tidy some of the papers spilling
Battery's mouth twitched slightly. "Listen, if it's any consolation I don't think there's a single person in the department who hasn't been rejected by the Rangers. Ethan and I included."
Dauntless felt himself relax, ever so slightly. Not enough, but a little. "Thanks. I guess I got my hopes up too much. This city starts to get to you after a while. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I get where the Director gets her attitude from."
Battery winced, clapping him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Speaking of which, I'm afraid I have a little more bad news to lump on your plate. The Director was asking for you earlier on. She wants a meeting."
Dauntless groaned. "Ah shit. I know exactly where this is going." It was only a matter of time, with things the way they are now. The brief windows of calm were getting steadily shorter, the tensions rising. The gangs were getting bolder, and the Protectorate could feel its hold slipping, piece by piece. Since he was technically in charge of the team, Dauntless' head was the one that would roll if things continued the way they were.
Battery sighed. "Yeah, better you than me. Who knows, she might be in a good mood."
Dauntless turned, trying to raise an eyebrow and failing. "Easy for you to say. When you eventually get your own team I hope you never have to deal with someone like her."
"Moody guts. I'll leave you to brood then."
He sighed as the door swung shut behind her, then pulled his keyboard towards him and began to type.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning, Dauntless. Please, sit down."
"Director Piggot." Dauntless eyed her warily. Emily Piggot sat behind her desk, steely eyes boring into his. She did not smile.
"I trust you know why I asked you here."
"You want me to report on the latest activity in the city. I have - "
"I know what has been happening in the city. I suspect I know more than you do. I want you to explain to me why. Why your team seems unable to deal with this situation."
Dauntless fought to keep his breath under control. "How familiar are you with the group currently known as the Crownless, director?" When she didn't immediately respond, he pushed on. "Five years ago the Protectorate toppled the ruling villain group in Boston, and these guys were one of the first to pop up in the aftermath. They were called the Viziers back then. For a while it looked like they would be the ones to take over the city. We don't know exactly what caused their collapse, but collapse they did. For a while they were facing off not only against the Boston PRT, but a semi-fluid alliance of the city's other villains, and I happen to know that the expectation was that it would end in a stalemate. They had money, influence, and didn't hesitate to toe the line."
"I'm familiar with this story Dauntless. The Viziers' leaders died in the Birdcage."
"Yes. But the foot soldiers didn't. Many of their enforcers, who served as the leaders personal muscle, fled once they saw the writing on the wall. They're the ones who are now trying to set up here. For a while they were basically mercenaries, guns for hire. Since the PRT were very familiar with them and their usual methods, they weren't hugely successful and many simply vanished into the ether. Until now. Something has changed, their methods and structure seems to be completely different, even the name is changed. They've embarked on a massive recruitment drive, almost doubling their numbers. Their tactics have changed. They may as well be a completely new group."
"This sounds like an extended excuse to me. What exactly makes them so different from any other villain group?"
I don't know, goddammit. Everything just seems to go their way. "They pick their battles. They've learned from their failures in the past, in short they've adapted. And they know how we work."
"This is all well and good, but I seem to recall that there were multiple villain groups loose in this city." Director Piggot leaned forwards, expression hardening. "I have a report from Armsmaster that the Undersiders are extending their run of successes, with the PRT estimating a take of about twenty-five thousand. The ABB continue to tighten their hold on the Docklands, the Empire on the westside. I trust I do not need to explain why the continued expansion of the Merchants reflects poorly on the city, and therefore on us. Any comments?"
Dauntless sighed. Fuck it. She may as well find out from me. "None. You already know what we've attempted so far, and in truth it's only the fact that the villains are attacking each other that keeps our image afloat. The Crownless, ironically, are almost exclusively doing that, and any big fish that we successfully manage to capture will almost invariably end up being replaced or even managing to escape. I honestly don't see what more we can do."
Director Piggot stared coldly at him for a moment. "If you feel unable to command, Dauntless, you need only say so. If not, I suggest you prove it. You're dismissed."
Assault and Velocity were waiting outside the office when he emerged. They didn't bother to ask how the meeting went as he stalked by them. They didn't have to. Following him out of earshot of the Director's office, they tried their best to look reassuring.
Velocity spoke up first. Both he and Assault wore colourful red costumes that stood as a stark contrast to the sterile grey and white walls, with only the speedster's racing stripes serving to differentiate the two. "That bad, huh?"
"You don't know the half of it. She's one step away from shipping me to Ellisburg. Truth is, we're failing and everyone knows it. The people know it. Every week the news reports on how villains are running amok, how the Protectorate failed to capture big-name villain number six, and so on. We need a win, dammit. Badly."
Assault sighed. "Trust me, we know. We all know. The Wards are good at hiding their feelings, but they're starting to feel the same way, that all we do is for nothing."
Dauntless closed his eyes, resting against the wall. "The easiest target to go for is probably the Merchants, but they're too low profile. There's a reason they've survived so long. The ABB is mostly unpowered foot soldiers, with only the big three being actual parahumans, but they're no slouches and they're all but impossible to contain. That basically leaves us with the Empire, who have a fuckload of powerful capes combined with possible international support."
"I think the Empire is our best bet. Remember that they've been hit by both the ABB and the Crownless in the past few weeks, and now the Undersiders have possibly just hit one of theirs too. It's only a matter of time, days if not hours, before they try something. Kaiser will feel pressured to try recoup some status, save some face."
"I agree, but we'll need all hands on deck for that. I'll speak to the Wards."
Assault grinned. "If you want them to actually listen to you I recommend letting me do the talking."
Dauntless didn't laugh, or smile. Dimly he realised that he probably should, but he'd never been good at pretending to be happy. "You do that. I'll focus our efforts on the westside, in particular where it meets the Docks. Keep me posted, will you?"
Assault's grin slipped, eyes flashing concern from behind his mask. "Will do, boss. Take it easy."
"Good luck. I hope your meeting with the Director goes better than mine did."
Neither replied, but Assault smiled wanly as the two moved towards the office, leaving Dauntless alone with his thoughts. Loss after loss after loss, all within the last month and a half. This can't be chance. We need a game changer, something to turn the tables, even a little bit. Something new. He felt his mind drift slightly, returning to the events of the previous night. We need all the help we can get.
Dauntless sighed as he examined the building. He knew the place, if only by reputation. It had been one of several 'underground' gambling rings in the area, populated by the usual mix of the desperate and the parasites who preyed on them. This place in particular had been investigated several times for its suspected use as a money laundering front, but to no avail.
Armsmaster was waiting for him as he approached the entrance. Despite his age, the man was a relatively recent entry into the Protectorate ranks and his rise was positively meteoric. Dauntless had no doubt that he would get his own team soon, once a suitable spot became available. For now though, Dauntless was glad to have him.
"Dauntless. The police have got statements from the staff and patrons, all painting the same picture. Coordinated attack by a team including at least one parahuman capable of generating darkness."
"The Undersiders again." Dauntless sighed. "They're getting bolder. Attacking more frequently. I take it nobody saw anything that might be useful?"
"I spoke with one of the door guards, said they were attacked almost immediately after the darkness hit. It's reasonable to assume that they used Hellhound's dogs to travel."
"So in other words we've learned nothing new from them." Bastards. They were slippery, and despite multiple jobs they had yet to make any kind of slip up, to the point that the PRT had yet to even confirm what powers they had beyond the immediately obvious. Whatever they were, they made good use of them, that was for sure.
"Not quite. Look at the door." Armsmaster gestured to the main door, which someone had wedged open. It was a heavy door, wooden but reinforced with several metal attachments which had been arranged to as to be invisible from the outside, to maintain the illusion that there was nothing noteworthy about this building. Dauntless eyed it suspiciously for a moment, before it clicked.
"No damage, not even to the lock. They didn't have to force their entry." Dauntless frowned. "The place was open. It's entirely possible they managed to get through conventionally. You know we can't go around making assumptions about what they can do. Making assumptions and being wrong can often be much worse than simply not knowing."
"I am right though. It's exactly the same inside, no signs of forced entry on the strongroom door. They knew the codes. Either they have connections, a man on the inside, or they didn't need to be given the codes at all. They have a Thinker who can bypass security systems. This would also explain some of their previous successes."
He's right, of course. We both know it. But there are ways and there are means, and this ain't it. Dauntless walked carefully through the door, pausing briefly to note the peeling layers of paint on the walls. Somebody had gone to a lot of trouble to make the place presentable, once. Whoever they were, they hadn't tried for some time. The casino room itself was underground, cluttered with the various knick-knacks the patrons had left behind when the villains had struck. Another door lay ajar at the far end of the room, surrounded by cameras and a serious looking lock. He stayed behind, scanning the room as Armsmaster went to check the door. Fat lot of good it did them.
"Dauntless. I have something." Armsmaster emerged from the doorway, beckoning him over. "There's about fifteen thousand dollars here, secured in these safes."
What? "They left something behind? Why? All the accounts I've heard show that they left well before anyone arrived. How much did they take?"
"Three safes unopened, five emptied. The one I opened held around five thousand."
Dauntless repressed the urge to reprimand him. Armsmaster was every inch the type to bend the rules if it suited him, if there was some sort of advantage to be gained. While it served him well in his field work, Dauntless knew that it had earned him several pointed remarks from the Director. Still, knowledge was power and this was certainly something useful. "Any ideas as to why they stopped short of taking the lot? I doubt it was the goodness of their hearts."
"They ran out of time. Grue's darkness dissipates after about twenty minutes according to data from previous run-ins, and it began to fade roughly seventeen minutes after I arrived. They were not here then."
Dauntless sighed, before something caught his eye. A grey-brown smear across the wall near the lock, with what appeared to be half a spider arranged around it. Repressing a shudder, he leaned in close, turning his gaze to the floor. No way is this natural. "Someone interfered. Look."
Armsmaster followed his gaze. "Insects. Far too many for a place like this. You think they ran into another cape." The corpses of roughly ten or twenty bugs of various shapes and sizes littered the floor around the lock, with almost none anywhere to be seen in the rest of the room. "Bees, wasps, a cockroach. Exactly the kind of bugs you'd use to attack someone. They must have been attacked when they reached the lock, slowed down just enough to force them to cut and run."
"There was another cape here alright, one who didn't come forward. Are there any bug-themed rogues in the city? New villains? Mercs?"
"None." Armsmaster's reply came without hesitation, no doubt accessing the data running through his helmet computer. What I wouldn't give to have one of those. Unfortunately, Dauntless' powers wreaked merry hell on most things electronic, and even his earpiece had had to be specially designed. "Not even in any of the surrounding areas. Closest thing I can find is a rogue from Philadelphia, but this isn't his MO."
"So whoever they are they're new and they want to lay low." He sighed. Maybe we'll get lucky, maybe it won't be yet another villain. Unfortunately, it wasn't likely. The destabilisation arising from the Crownless' arrival had stretched the Protectorate thin, and it wasn't unfeasible that a new villain might see the city as an easy target. "Any guesses as to who ran this place? I'd bet my bottom dollar that this place isn't above board."
"Speculation at best. This is ABB territory, but only just. Plus, none of the employees here are of Asian descent, and we know Lung is quite particular about that. The Merchants don't run businesses, neither do Über and Leet, and the Crownless haven't been here long enough. That leaves only two options: Coil or the Empire."
"Coil's a secretive bastard, if it is him then we won't find anything useful here. Not that Kaiser is any better. Still, get the PRT to track down everyone who was here tonight. One of them will probably turn out to be our mystery cape, and they might provide us with some answers as to who runs this place. I'll get them to look out for anything that could be a newbie experimenting with their powers, they usually leave some sort of trail. Oh, and get anything that looks even remotely suspicious over to PHQ, might find something from that. I'm heading back out."
The night air was cool on his face as he left, speeding back to the local HQ. He could feel each impact jolt up his leg ever so slightly as he kicked off the air, weaving around the buildings. It had been a while since he'd gotten to fly anywhere, but he never really got to enjoy it anymore. Who knew I would ever get bored of flying? Shaking himself mentally, he felt his mind drift back to the casino. Armsmaster was very capable, and if there was anything in that building he would find it. Dauntless knew that the man was driven, to the point that he'd even spent entire nights in his workshop. All efforts to get him to relax had been fruitless. Still, it was an attitude that would serve him well.
The letter was waiting for him when he finally reached his office, sitting neatly on top of his desk. The silver and gold insignia glittered in the light as he picked it up, a dragon spreading its wings surrounded by stars. The Ranger Program responded! Heart racing, he gingerly opened the envelope, scanning the page.
"Good news?" Dauntless turned to see Battery lounging against the door frame. She was one of the Protectorate's newer members, graduating not long ago after a fairly stellar period in the Wards. She was a real up-and-comer, albeit still fairly inexperienced. She was in costume too, probably on her way back from patrol. Damn it all. They didn't have to find out so soon. Her face fell as her eyes met his. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean - "
"It's fine, really." He said, too quickly. She knows, she fucking knows. God damn it. Almost on instinct, he tried to surreptitiously tidy some of the papers spilling
Battery's mouth twitched slightly. "Listen, if it's any consolation I don't think there's a single person in the department who hasn't been rejected by the Rangers. Ethan and I included."
Dauntless felt himself relax, ever so slightly. Not enough, but a little. "Thanks. I guess I got my hopes up too much. This city starts to get to you after a while. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I get where the Director gets her attitude from."
Battery winced, clapping him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Speaking of which, I'm afraid I have a little more bad news to lump on your plate. The Director was asking for you earlier on. She wants a meeting."
Dauntless groaned. "Ah shit. I know exactly where this is going." It was only a matter of time, with things the way they are now. The brief windows of calm were getting steadily shorter, the tensions rising. The gangs were getting bolder, and the Protectorate could feel its hold slipping, piece by piece. Since he was technically in charge of the team, Dauntless' head was the one that would roll if things continued the way they were.
Battery sighed. "Yeah, better you than me. Who knows, she might be in a good mood."
Dauntless turned, trying to raise an eyebrow and failing. "Easy for you to say. When you eventually get your own team I hope you never have to deal with someone like her."
"Moody guts. I'll leave you to brood then."
He sighed as the door swung shut behind her, then pulled his keyboard towards him and began to type.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning, Dauntless. Please, sit down."
"Director Piggot." Dauntless eyed her warily. Emily Piggot sat behind her desk, steely eyes boring into his. She did not smile.
"I trust you know why I asked you here."
"You want me to report on the latest activity in the city. I have - "
"I know what has been happening in the city. I suspect I know more than you do. I want you to explain to me why. Why your team seems unable to deal with this situation."
Dauntless fought to keep his breath under control. "How familiar are you with the group currently known as the Crownless, director?" When she didn't immediately respond, he pushed on. "Five years ago the Protectorate toppled the ruling villain group in Boston, and these guys were one of the first to pop up in the aftermath. They were called the Viziers back then. For a while it looked like they would be the ones to take over the city. We don't know exactly what caused their collapse, but collapse they did. For a while they were facing off not only against the Boston PRT, but a semi-fluid alliance of the city's other villains, and I happen to know that the expectation was that it would end in a stalemate. They had money, influence, and didn't hesitate to toe the line."
"I'm familiar with this story Dauntless. The Viziers' leaders died in the Birdcage."
"Yes. But the foot soldiers didn't. Many of their enforcers, who served as the leaders personal muscle, fled once they saw the writing on the wall. They're the ones who are now trying to set up here. For a while they were basically mercenaries, guns for hire. Since the PRT were very familiar with them and their usual methods, they weren't hugely successful and many simply vanished into the ether. Until now. Something has changed, their methods and structure seems to be completely different, even the name is changed. They've embarked on a massive recruitment drive, almost doubling their numbers. Their tactics have changed. They may as well be a completely new group."
"This sounds like an extended excuse to me. What exactly makes them so different from any other villain group?"
I don't know, goddammit. Everything just seems to go their way. "They pick their battles. They've learned from their failures in the past, in short they've adapted. And they know how we work."
"This is all well and good, but I seem to recall that there were multiple villain groups loose in this city." Director Piggot leaned forwards, expression hardening. "I have a report from Armsmaster that the Undersiders are extending their run of successes, with the PRT estimating a take of about twenty-five thousand. The ABB continue to tighten their hold on the Docklands, the Empire on the westside. I trust I do not need to explain why the continued expansion of the Merchants reflects poorly on the city, and therefore on us. Any comments?"
Dauntless sighed. Fuck it. She may as well find out from me. "None. You already know what we've attempted so far, and in truth it's only the fact that the villains are attacking each other that keeps our image afloat. The Crownless, ironically, are almost exclusively doing that, and any big fish that we successfully manage to capture will almost invariably end up being replaced or even managing to escape. I honestly don't see what more we can do."
Director Piggot stared coldly at him for a moment. "If you feel unable to command, Dauntless, you need only say so. If not, I suggest you prove it. You're dismissed."
Assault and Velocity were waiting outside the office when he emerged. They didn't bother to ask how the meeting went as he stalked by them. They didn't have to. Following him out of earshot of the Director's office, they tried their best to look reassuring.
Velocity spoke up first. Both he and Assault wore colourful red costumes that stood as a stark contrast to the sterile grey and white walls, with only the speedster's racing stripes serving to differentiate the two. "That bad, huh?"
"You don't know the half of it. She's one step away from shipping me to Ellisburg. Truth is, we're failing and everyone knows it. The people know it. Every week the news reports on how villains are running amok, how the Protectorate failed to capture big-name villain number six, and so on. We need a win, dammit. Badly."
Assault sighed. "Trust me, we know. We all know. The Wards are good at hiding their feelings, but they're starting to feel the same way, that all we do is for nothing."
Dauntless closed his eyes, resting against the wall. "The easiest target to go for is probably the Merchants, but they're too low profile. There's a reason they've survived so long. The ABB is mostly unpowered foot soldiers, with only the big three being actual parahumans, but they're no slouches and they're all but impossible to contain. That basically leaves us with the Empire, who have a fuckload of powerful capes combined with possible international support."
"I think the Empire is our best bet. Remember that they've been hit by both the ABB and the Crownless in the past few weeks, and now the Undersiders have possibly just hit one of theirs too. It's only a matter of time, days if not hours, before they try something. Kaiser will feel pressured to try recoup some status, save some face."
"I agree, but we'll need all hands on deck for that. I'll speak to the Wards."
Assault grinned. "If you want them to actually listen to you I recommend letting me do the talking."
Dauntless didn't laugh, or smile. Dimly he realised that he probably should, but he'd never been good at pretending to be happy. "You do that. I'll focus our efforts on the westside, in particular where it meets the Docks. Keep me posted, will you?"
Assault's grin slipped, eyes flashing concern from behind his mask. "Will do, boss. Take it easy."
"Good luck. I hope your meeting with the Director goes better than mine did."
Neither replied, but Assault smiled wanly as the two moved towards the office, leaving Dauntless alone with his thoughts. Loss after loss after loss, all within the last month and a half. This can't be chance. We need a game changer, something to turn the tables, even a little bit. Something new. He felt his mind drift slightly, returning to the events of the previous night. We need all the help we can get.
- Location
- England
It really bugs me that the PRT and Protectorate are supposed to be separate entities but apparently the PRT Director can threaten and order capes around as she pleases, And little things like the chain of command which are incredibly important in military/law enforcement don't exist.