City in the Bay of Time
Founding 1.5
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Emma Barnes was having a miserable time. Everything was better back at Earth Bet. People admired her for her modeling and her family's wealth. Weaklings like Taylor remained at the bottom of the food pile and all was right with the world.
The transition changed everything. In the first day, when most people were running around like headless chickens, no one knew what to do. Despite the power outage, the citizens tried to live out their old lives as best they could.
That didn't last very long. The first cowards immediately spent all of their cash on buying up truckloads of food. That set off a panic that saw the rest of the city pile into supermarkets and secure their own supply. The police barely maintained order. Demand was so high that most shops had the bright idea of jacking up their prices. That discouraged most people but those left bought the food anyway, only to sell them at even higher prices elsewhere.
No one could afford the food at those ridiculous prices. The poor started to pay with something more solid, something other than fantasy paper from a country too distant to reach. A loaf of bread for a box of tampons. Toilet paper for a bag full of sweets. Even Emma had been forced to let go of her earrings when she wanted to buy up a pack of frozen meat.
Most of the people who were well-off like her father suddenly found most of their wealth meant nothing. Her dad had been prudent with his savings, spreading them out in several bank accounts and investing the remainder in stock. Her father practically broke down in tears that night when he realized his substantial stock portfolio in solid companies such as Shell and General Electric had been rendered meaningless.
Worse, their bank accounts were inaccessible. All local bank branches faced bank runs whenever they opened their vaults, which was stupid since their entire life savings only paid enough for a week's worth of food. While the prices lost some of their ridiculous heights when that villain Skitter starting bringing in crab by the boatful,
In this new brave world, people didn't value past earnings. The dollars resting half-forgotten in her purse was only useful as toilet paper right now. These days, the gangs and greedy shopkeepers only acknowledged what men and women could offer
now. The most valuable possession in Brockton Bay right now was not millions dollars in the bank, but food. The longer-lasting, the better. Below that were valuables like jewelry and tools and the like. More than half of Brockton Bay didn't even have that much, so they traded the one thing left that they could do with their own two hands: their manpower.
Luckily enough, once the city calmed down and the authorities started to get things organized, there was plenty of employment available. Bodies were needed to man the mothballed fishing boats and chop down the surrounding forests. It was hard work for little pay, but at least you got food on the table. Her own mother even pitched in and started to join some kind of sewing group under Parian. At least her father didn't have to resort to digging trenches or anything demeaning like that. Even after the transition, lawyers were still needed, even more so now. The pay was much worse, but at least they hadn't lost everything. The Barnes family would climb back from this tragedy, one way or another.
In the meantime, she had to waste time in school. The leaders of the city thought it was not wise to let future generations forget advanced knowledge in the sciences and arts. Still, Emma didn't mind too much. Everyone who attended received free meals, so it was a good way for most parents to dump their kids while they worked. It was better than doing manual labor, like Taylor must undoubtedly be doing.
About a third of the school hadn't bothered to show up these days. Obviously Sophia had more important things to do than waste her talents in school. Gang members likewise ditched school entirely, opting instead to join the expanding gangs. The ABB, E88 and the Merchants all offered plenty of food as well as other substantial benefits in order to cope with their new responsibilities in actually taking care of their turf. That they've been pushed from illegal entities to merely tolerated organisations hadn't hurt their chances either.
'Not that I'm ever going to wear gaudy gang colors.'
It was all pathetic in the young socialite's eyes. The gangs were all losers taking advantage of the breakdown in society. Pff, Taylor must have joined the Empire or something. She'd fit right in. As for Emma herself? She was destined for greater heights. Her dad had friends in the committees that revised the law and reformed the government. The gangs and other riff raff may rule the streets nowadays, but the elite ruled at the top.
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Lady Photon admired this new Earth's beauty. The lands beyond Brockton Bay stretched for many miles, with large forests and strange new life forms. Each day of patrol led to another day of exploration and adventure. She saw familiar landscapes but overgrown with vegetation. She saw strange new animals and the dragons that preyed on them. Each day she returned to Miss Militia with another recording from the camera fixed over her shoulder.
But if there was one thing Lady Photon could do without, it was her assigned partner. Only her respect for Miss Militia's leadership stayed her protests.
"You've raised some gorgeous kids. I'm envious."
'There she goes trying to make small talk again.' Photon thought, not even hiding her disgust. "I'm not going to fall for your tricks, Nazi."
But Purity was undeterred. "I'm not a villain anymore. The Empire-, we're all turning a new leaf."
"If you want to turn a new leaf, then you should turn yourself in to the Protectorate."
The Empire cape fell silent at that, to Photon Mom's relief. No matter how much the supervillains pretended to be going legal now, she could never forget the deaths they caused in her family.
'They didn't care about my family ten years ago. They're not going to start now.'
Despite her irritation, Lady Photon was not about to dump Purity to the wayside. Miss Militia only had a limited amount of fliers at her disposal. Sarah would rather endure Purity's small talk herself than subject her children to the Nazi's poison.
'You're not going to make skinheads out of my babies.'
After a placid afternoon of flying, Photon finally halted in the air and brought out a tablet from her backpack. "Alright, we've reached the waypoint. We haven't flown this far from Brockton Bay so be on the lookout."
"On it."
At first glance, both capes saw nothing except the same. Huge forests, gentle hills, placid lakes and panoramic rivers. This was what America looked like in the early days of its colonization, if you'd take out the dragons and other weird wildlife. Yet there was one discordant feature in this idyllic view.
Dotted here and there rested splotches of dark ash. Photon encountered them on the second day of the transition, and when she flew closer, she found out what they represented.
Years ago, intelligent life had settled in these lands. But all they left behind were burned down villages and farmland that was so overgrown that they were indistinguishable from the wildlife. It was a frightening visage. They were not alone. At least one tribe of people – whether they were human, elf or lizardfolk no one knew – made their livelihood on these fertile plains. Then something came along and burned it all to ashes. And that threat – whatever it was – could still be out there, waiting, brooding, preparing.
Suffice to say, the citizens weren't ready to hear the paradise outside the borders presented a false illusion of peace. The desolate sights proved that war could not escape Brockton Bay.
"All seems clear."
After they made sure there were no signs of life, the pair of capes descended into the ruins of one such village. The people upstairs wanted more knowledge, anything that could give them a clue what had happened here and what might be in store for Brockton Bay.
Yet sifting through the wreckage was a depressing task. Even Purity dimmed a bit as she tried to dig through a pile of ashen logs. They found very little things of note in these excavations. The most prevalent were the rusted tools made out of iron that excited the archaeologists back home. They also found a couple of broken pieces of stone that might have been sculptures. These things were merely echoes of a past life, now tragically wiped out.
'This can't go on forever.' Photon thought as she held what looked to be a rock shaped into a very crude dragon. It looked and felt like a toy, something she'd give to her son when he was younger.
'How many miles do we have to fly before this ends?'
They had to meet civilization eventually. The only question was whether they were part of the people that settled here, or the ones who killed them all and burned their houses.
"Are we done now Photon? I'd like to go back."
"Same here." The hero replied. She was more than done with this place.
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"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Director Piggot greeted her colleagues as she took a seat at the head of the conference table.
The small gathering nodded politely at her entrance. The security committee might nominally advise the mayor regarding threats from without and within, the reality was that they had total say in anything they deemed a matter of concern. And among these esteemed officials, none were more powerful than Piggot.
"Let us start with the perimeter report." Piggot said. "Has there been no sign of outside threats?"
"No new developments. Just ruins and remnants of intelligent life."
Grunting, the Director turned to the police chief. "How's the unrest?"
The man's brows were furrowed, as they had been ever since the transition. "A lot of people are still discontent, but we've locked up enough inciters to prevent any further riots. I'm sure I don't need to add that the threat is still not neutralized. The upper class isn't taking the currency change without a fight. They're going to keep stirring up trouble until you let up and allow them to exchange old dollars for new currency."
That was something that Piggot could handle. She'd rather have a mob of angry plutocrats at her back than open warfare among the capes. "I'm not changing my mind on the matter. We have to jolt the population into productivity and a new start is the only way to convert everyone into this mindset."
Though she had some doubts herself about the measure, Tattletale had been quite effective so far with her suggestions. The city hadn't fallen apart and most citizens were now working for a better future instead of staying stuck in the past.
She then turned to an old colleague of hers. "Alright then Calvert, how's the gang situation."
"It's going well, all-considered." The thin-stick man at the other end at the table reported. "The gangs are too busy chasing tokens than planning to move out or fight for control over the city."
That was a huge relief for Piggot. Even though the legitimization of the gangs strengthened them, they trusted only the Protectorate and PRT to be impartial enough to administrate the city. The villains could have defeated the Protectorate and rule over the city themselves if they banded together against the outnumbered and outgunned Protectorate and New Wave. But that peace would quickly shatter into all-out war without a mediating factor. They'd be much worse off than before.
The only other major threat that remained was if any gang or any cape moved out on their own. That would have been an outright disaster that would assuredly precipitate a future war between the factions. No, the only way to secure Brockton Bay's unity was to co-opt the gangs and give them the illusion of control. She just had to do it subtly. Pride and a lifetime of defiance against authority wouldn't let the gangs subordinate themselves under the PRT. But controlling the less visible things behind the scenes would let the PRT keep in firm control of the situation. As they had always done so before the transition.
"Keep monitoring the situation closely." Piggot nodded as she examined a couple of papers. "Keep an especially close eye on the Empire Eighty-Eight. Out of all the gangs, they can best build up an independent settlement from nothing if they remain united. Their ideology is also the kind that is the most adverse to the continued cooperation we have right now."
Calvert let out a small laugh. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. The E88 lack both a tinker and a food producing cape. They're staying put."
Director Piggot grimaced. "For now. There might always be new triggers."
"Hmm, true. We might also see shifts in allegiance and the forming of alliances between the smaller factions."
New triggers were an especially acute concern and gave Piggot nightmares. So far, there had been no new reported triggers. The transition had evidently not been traumatic enough to warrant one. But a powerful one in the hands of a gang might alter the balance of power that existed right now.
After hearing a couple of other routine reports, Piggot moved the meeting on to a contentious topic.
"Now that we have all that out of the way, let's discuss cape representation. Armsmaster is reporting that Kaiser and Lung both want a more official leadership position to decide matters specific to parahumans."
"That's ridiculous. We already tolerate their gang presence."
"We should throw them a bone, though. Establishing some kind of cape council with an equal amount of heroes and villains will engage them more to the welfare of the city."
"Or allow them to take over entirely."
Sighing to herself, Piggot braced herself for a long discussion. Arguments were thrown back and forth, but the topic was too polarizing for the committee members to come to a comfortable consensus.
The voices halted when an assistant intruded into the conference room.
The haggard-looking PRT officer looked distressed. "Director, I'm sorry to interrupt but we have an emergency situation. One of the fishing vessels is overdue. We've been trying to contact her on the radio but we're only getting silence."
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Piggot asked, "Which boat?"
"The
Mary Prayer, ma'am. The one with Skitter onboard."
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