Contractual Villainy

Sandy River DL · Dec 7, 2021

A/N: I'd been planning on putting this out Saturday, but with it finished and work on building a lead on Against the Deep progressing a bit slow, I figured I'd just go for it.

Tinker Test Lab, Cauldron Compound, Jan 4, 2011.

Sparks flew as hammer struck metal, slowly shaping the strip of wrought iron into the final plate for my armor. Not that an iron brigandine is what I would've expected to be wearing as a Tinker, but power armor wasn't something I could make, at least not yet. Cauldron had only given me so much material for power testing and I needed the best of it to build important things, like my visor and scanner drones, the gear I'd need to survive, rather than wasting it on creating tools I'd need to create a more advanced suit that I wouldn't have the resources left for. It's not like I had anywhere to keep machine tools or power armor anyways.

Pausing my hammering, I checked the plate's form and quenched it in the near-by vat before setting off to the side to finish cooling. That done, I turned to another workbench to begin completing what was perhaps the most critical part of my arsenal, recall anchors. I still have no idea how I managed to luck out with the ability to replicate one of the most potent Mover capabilities, because dimensional travel was ridiculously useful to have, especially since my contract said Cauldron would help me find a base. Completely private tropical getaway, here I come! Sort of. It kinda loses something when your personal beach house on your personal Earth is also technically a villainous lair. Still, I refused to let the fact that I only got powers so I can be the Traitor's nemesis get me down. A tropical hideout was a tropical hideout, regardless of what I'm doing there, and far superior to the blizzard ravaged streets I'd been rescued from yesterday.

Fitting together the intricate lattice of crystals and electronics was time consuming and tedious, but having a home again would be worth it, especially with the whole 'Nemesis Contract' meaning that having the perfect bug-out option would be invaluable. Cauldron didn't tell me what power Emma had bought – or that it was her at all, actually – but knowing her, it'd be some kind of Blaster. Always loved that flashy stuff, even when impractical or counterproductive. Hopefully it wasn't part of an Alexandria Package, because nothing I'd have for the foreseeable future could touch Brute-rated flying artillery. Putting aside that line of thought, I slotted the three sections of the first base unit together before beginning the assembly of a portable unit.

The portable recall anchor was probably the most important part of the system, as it would allow me to teleport to any other anchor no matter where I was in relation to it. Want to go to Bet while away from my base? Select the anchor I'd be stashing in one of Brockton Bay's abandoned warehouses. Got lost exploring the area around my base? Back in seconds. Cape fight goes bad? Medical protocols automatically pop me to safety at either base unit and, if severe enough, alert Cauldron. I suspected that they got that particular trick from Haywire somehow.

"Ruth? Your testing time is up."

I almost fell off my stool at the sound of the doctor's voice calling my customer pseudonym. Had I gone into a fugue? The completed assortment of anchors, along with a fully assembled brigandine, a hunting knife, and an axe/pickaxe hybrid were probably a good sign towards 'yes'. Sighing, I stood and headed towards the door, leaving my creations behind for analysis to determine my ratings. It was rather unlikely I'd get anything higher than a five unless the anchors counted for a lot. I mean, Kid Win of the local Wards was rated as a Tinker 4 and he had laser guns, power armor, and a hoverboard, to my drones, visor, and a jacket with iron plates riveted to the inside. Being underestimated was good, and I honestly wasn't interested in being an actual threat, but a part of me hated the idea of being viewed as weak. A result of the year and a half of bullying probably. Maybe the fact that my rating would inevitably raise as I built up would help, once I got established in my new home.

Producing a notebook I had brought, I sat down in a chair and began writing down my priories for settlement. Food and water would be number one, as shelter could be easily built from whatever trees were present, or with earth and stone if required. Finding a supply of flint, chert, or obsidian for knapping basic tools was next, as I'd be needing more tools than an axe, pick, and knife if I wanted to get anywhere. A clay deposit came after that, for bricks, ceramics, and cobb. Malachite, native copper, or an iron source would follow. With all of those secured, I'd be able to start tracking down things like coal, sulfur, and various other useful materials while developing a more refined homestead. And running my villain operations, which would likely be my main source of food, medicine, and critical industrial goods like wires and dynamos, because there was no way in hell a single person could support herself off the land while still having time to do anything not focused entirely on survival. Maybe villainy's actually good for something after all.

My musing was cut off by the arrival of the doctor, who was holding a tablet. "I have your starting ratings, Ruth. Tinker 3 and a secondary Thinker 2, these being a Multithreaded Resource type for Tinker, and both Zone and Proficiency for Thinker. Based on your constructs so far, we suspect that your primary will increase as you acclimatize to your power and gather materials, likely reaching a 7 or 8 within two years. How quickly depends on how you conduct your villain career and whether you choose to join the Protectorate after your contract expires. Your specialty could also push you higher if you have a particularly flexible one," the woman paused, before giving me one of her oddly maternal smiles. "While the ratings we have established will be passed on to your sponsor, our projections are not a part of the service."

"That's nice to hear, and I figured my ratings would be low, considering how basic most of my creations were. How much of it even counts as tinker tech anyways? I'm pretty sure that my visor's some military project from Aleph, from that one jet program that triggered internet fights that spilled over to Bet a few years back." I paused, considering my work. "And I'm pretty sure the only 'tinkeryness' involved in my iron stuff was the fact that I could actually forge them without any of the physical build-up an actual blacksmith would have from training."

The doctor nodded, "Yes, much of your equipment does not meet the definition of tinker tech, but what does is quite impressive. Not threatening, but impressive. For all that we use the PRT's system for our clients, Cauldron doesn't actually view it as a good system and you, Ruth, are a perfect example of why. While your creations are no more dangerous than those of a normal craftsman, the sheer flexibility you demonstrated means few Tinkers are more capable. We look forward to what you accomplish. Now, gather your things. It's almost time to discuss your basing needs."

A broad grin on my face, I stood and slipped my notebook into my hoodie, before following the older woman out of the waiting room and into the featureless white corridor. Walking to the end we passed through an almost unnoticeable swinging door into a small conference room with a table covered in maps and documents. Staring at the spread, I couldn't help but giggle. "All those touch screens, high-end tools, and advanced materials, but you use paper maps?"

The doctor merely chuckled. "There is a tablet computer in there as well. Some prefer physical mediums and you should recall this is the first time we've had to help a client in establishing themselves. Normally they either have the resources to do so themselves or are joining an existing group. Now, what are you looking for?"

Setting my notebook on the table, I replied "Another Earth, actually. The recall anchors are designed for that, with the intradimensional movement being a nice bonus." I let set in for a few moments before continuing. "My preference is for a nice tropical beach on a sheltered coastline, with a major river and mountains near-by. That would give me access to the most natural resources possible and thus the best chance for me to settle a usable base of operations that can support both villainous activities and personal life. Oh, and human-compatible biochemistry. Can't forget that point, when dealing with alternate Earths."

"And what makes you think we can assist you in finding and reaching such a world Ruth?" asked the doctor. "I don't believe I ever mentioned Cauldron having that capability, nor any of our resources saying so."

Smirking, I replied "The transceivers that I was given for my anchors are trans-dimensional units, which would not be necessary if you did not maintain facilities on Earths beyond Aleph and Bet. If you have that capacity, then you almost certainly have the ability to examine other worlds as well, otherwise it would be of little use. I'm not going to ask how you accomplish it, just that you apply it in aid of the basing assistance clause of our contract."

"Clever. An oversight on our part, but being able to infer all of that from a single piece of equipment is something we should have considered, given your pre-vial tests," came the older woman's response. "We're definitely going to keep an eye on you, so don't be surprised if we approach you after your eighteenth birthday. It would, after all, be foolish to let someone with your mind and power slip away without at least making an attempt at recruitment. Now, if you would give me a list of criteria and characteristics, I will see about getting a suitable site."

Flipping open my notebook to a page I'd filled with a description of my ideal locale, I passed it over and sat in the nearer of the room's chairs. The doctor took the other seat and began copying the contents onto her ever-present tablet, probably to send to whoever was behind Cauldron's dimensional travel capability. Though typing was not the only thing she did.

"So, Ruth, have you put any thoughts into your cape persona? This is purely for our own records mind you, not to be given to your sponsor."

I shrugged, "Just playing up the homeless and desperate teen angle, maybe including some rants about how the systems supposed to protect us have failed. It neatly explains why I'm a villain instead of taking my new powers to the Wards, while also netting me public sympathy and forcing the PRT to keep the kids gloves on when dealing with me. It's not as much protection as being a humor villain would be, but I honestly don't have it in me to be a joke. Weaving together a funny character to play just… doesn't fit what I have at this point. Maybe if Dad was actually around anymore and I was able to live at home, I could've come up with a comedic shtick, but I'm too jaded now to make it work. Not for six months. And, even better, if my sponsor is joining the Wards herself, I can vent at her without breaking character and, if I do it right, hurt her rep while bolstering my own support. It's skirting the Unwritten Rules, but as long as I don't unmask her or threaten her family, I should be fine."

"Well thought out, and certainly a good starting point for achieving an upset. Any name you're thinking of?"

"Hausōs. It's the ancient etymologic source of the word 'dawn' in pretty much every European language, and is believed to have been the name of a goddess. I figure it's a good name for a bright new future."

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 5, 2011.

Despite it taking until the next day, Cauldron had come through on my request with amazing results. A virgin Earth with dramatically different geography, including a North America analogue rotated almost ninety degrees to put New England on the continent's southern coast instead of the east. What on Bet was Brockton Bay, on this world was a coastal plain and forested hills set against a broad sound dotted with reefs and protected by a chain of islands, some of which were part of a volcanic arc that extended onto the mainland. Several rivers flowed into the sound at various points, all running down from a high mountain range a day's walk to the north.

The doctor insisted that I name this instance of Earth to distinguish it from others in Cauldron's records, so I again drew upon the etymological knowledge Mom imparted and dubbed the world Tǩóymos, home in the tongue of Neolithic Europe. The fact that it also meant village was to be ignored, as there was no chance of anyone other than Cauldron visiting, let alone living here.

Stepping through the portal, I left the Cauldron facility for the last time and set foot on the ground of my own personal planet. I was on a hilltop overlooking the sound, with the peak of one of the volcanoes barely visible on the western horizon. To the north I could hear the babbling of a brook over the odd melodic chittering that was probably the local birds. Reaching back through the portal, I snagged the handle of the cheap cart I'd been given to haul my gear around on and dragged it though, at which point the hole in reality vanished. While it would be back in three hours to return me to Bet, its disappearance marked the end of direct contact between me and the shadowy organization. But that didn't matter to me, because it was time to get to work.

Sandy River DL · Dec 11, 2021

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 5, 2011.

Leaving my equipment cart for the moment, I made my way downhill in the direction of the brook. Depending on the size and profile, I could get a hydro-generator setup to power the base anchor. If not, I'd have to travel downstream to search for better locations. The recall anchors could technically operate without an external power supply for several weeks, but that wasn't something I wanted to rely on, especially since the one I'd be setting up here was necessarily the cornerstone of my base. Just plonking the thing down anywhere would cause far too many problems down the line, and electricity was too useful not acquire early on.

What I had anticipated being a five-minute walk ended up being a half-hour hike, as the forest was denser than I expected. And when I got to the brook, it was broad and shallow. Really should have expected that from the noise is made, but it did lead to a much larger stream with a deep, narrow channel. Dangerous to cross, but the confined flow and fast current meant it was perfect for installing a water wheel, assuming I could work out how to install the thing safely. Even better was the seam of high-grade malachite in the hillside above the stream's bank. Said hill also had a nice clear view of the sound, as while shorter than the hill I started on, the trees were thinner and more towards the landward side. Not ideal, but the signs I could see pointed towards a forest fire rather than direct weather damage. I'd still be going for stone walls on that side, if I chose that hilltop at all.

Finding a fallen tree just around a bend near the ore vain, I traversed the stream and scaled the slope on the far side. The extensive stony outcrop at the peak of the clearly larger hill seemed promising, gneiss made for a much better foundation than root-filled dirt and would provide a solid wall against whatever hurricanes that may hit the region. I'd need to haul logs uphill from the lower slopes because the thin soil over rock didn't seem to be something the local trees handled well, but that wouldn't be too much of a problem so long as I didn't get ambitious and stuck to smaller trunks for the initial structure.

Of course, actually starting on my home would have to wait, both because I lacked time to do more than plan out the basics, and the fact that I lacked a number of things I'd need to actually build with. Moving my supplies over and setting up the anchor would come first, followed by kitting up for my debut as a supervillain. With that sobering thought, I began searching the outcrop for a place to stash things out of the weather. This particular task was completed more quickly than expected, as I came around the side of the outcrop from where I'd approached, only to find an enclosed overhang large enough to fit everything I'd brought to Tǩóymos. All that was left to do there was to bring everything over and block it off with a sheet of heavy bark.

I was halfway back to my arrival point when I realized that there was no way I should have been able to notice even half of what I made decisions based on. Thinker powers were bullshit.

Transporting everything to my chosen steading ended taking pretty much the entire remainder of my time before I'd be returned to Bet, so I simply slid on my brigandine, slipped on my visor and set my anchor down on a relatively flat section of rock. Sliding open a panel on the unit, I twisted a pale blue crystal, then pushed it in and flipped one of two switches up, causing the device to hum. Inverting a different crystal made it glow, then cease both emissions. Closing the anchor back up, I stood and was about to begin making my way to my starting point when the air tore open in front of me.

Blinking, I quickly grabbed what I needed for my return.

***

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 5, 2011.

Stepping through the Cauldron portal for the last time, I stood in one of the many derelict warehouses in the Docks, holding my last recall anchor while my three scanner drones hovered after me. This building, I'd been told, still had power, so keeping the base unit running would be simple enough one I installed it. Of course, that meant finding a spot to put the thing where it was unlikely to be found by a homeless person or the Merchants. I'd stick it the rafters, if not for the fact that doing so would likely result in me appearing in midair because the system only checked for obstructions. I'd have to fix that at some point, but right now all that could be done was to take that flaw into account.

Sending my drones to examine the area for potential hiding spots, I began running through places I could hit for my debut. A Medhall storehouse for medical supplies, a drugstore for medical kits, one of the hardware stores for the parts to tinker up a hydro-generator, supermarket for canned food… Best go for the last one, as I had no idea yet what was safe to eat on Tǩóymos and I could grab some seeds what I was at it. Corn, green onion, normal onions, tomatoes, potatoes, and chili peppers all went onto a list compiled on my visor as I watched the drone feeds. I'd only get one harvest out of the seeds, but by then I'd either have found edible local flora, gotten my hands on heirloom seeds, or both.

With my 'shopping list' generated, I made my way over to the battered staircase leading to the manager's office, where one of my drones had spotted a space. Getting to it required a bit of climbing, but put me on top of the office structure and out of sight, a perfect place to teleport in and out of. There was even an electrical conduit running up the wall for me to tap into, with a note taped to it. With my cape name on it.

'Hausōs, I figured you could use a few things that weren't provided to you. To your left is a box containing a Haywire-tech derived transdimensional communications relay, a laptop computer, and a 60 hertz, 120-volt generator typically used with a stationary bicycle. This should aid your endeavors significantly.

-Tessa'

I stared at the note, then turned to the box and dispatched the drone to scan it. Nothing that shouldn't be in any of the devices was present, though the relay contained a similar amount of americium to a smoke detector. Not a hazard unless I ingested it. I tossed the note into the box and went about hooking the anchor into the conduit, deciding to leave the weirdness until after I'd grabbed enough supplies to last me a few days. Probably should grab a large bag or sack while I'm at it, so as to be able to carry more in both going raiding. These were both inputted into my visor.

Clambering down form the office's roof, I made my way outside and pulled up a map with my visor's pirated cell datalink, plotting my path to the nearest supermarket that I know would have the seeds I wanted. This was followed by a long trudge through knee deep snow, because no one was in the area to keep the sidewalks clear and the city wasn't going to waste money on ensuring abandoned areas were walkable.

***

It was dark by the time I reached my target store, which was fine by me. I was just getting supplies, not doing a notoriety run, so a low customer count wasn't a concern. In fact, I rather liked the idea of my first outing as a villain being quiet and low-key.

Striding through the doors with my drones in tow and one hand on my hunting knife, I declared in a loud voice, further amplified by a speaker in my visor, "Alright Brocktonites! You know the drill by now, so I won't waste anyone's time. Leave me be and nobody gets hurt! I'm not here for money or jewelry, just the exact same kinds of you're here for: food, household goods and gardening supplies. Only difference is that you lot have jobs and shit, while I got fucked over by a useless excuse for an educational system. So in the interest of not ruining anyone else's life, let's keep things friendly and no one go trying to stop me or calling the PRT on the account of me not wanting to almost die in a blizzard again!"

The three people at the front of the store stared at me. Or maybe my drones, it was a little hard to tell with the floating scouts hovering around my shoulders. I sent them out into the aisles to seek out the nonperishable foods, potatoes, and garden seeds for ease of collection. Even with the warning, I'd want to be gone as fast as I could without showing off my teleportation capability. While Emma may know about that, she had no way of telling the Protectorate that without inviting awkward questions. And she hadn't even gotten her powers yet, as we had been scheduled to get them this weekend, before Cauldron had to bring me in early because of the blizzard. Anyway, keeping that as out of sight as possible was a good idea.

Once the drones were in place, I set off towards the nearest of them, in the gardening section. Snagging a burlap planting bag as I went, I started gathering together the various seed packets that I wanted, simply pulling the entire present stock out of the holders and tossing them into the bag. Also grabbed were two hoes that I noticed along the way, along with a pair of gloves and an entrenching tool that was there for some reason.

Moving on to the next leg of my circuit, I snatched a ten-pound bag of potatoes and hooked it onto the drone that was hovering over them before continuing to the canned and dried foods area. Cans of spam, beans, tuna, and fruit joined pouches of dehydrated pasta, shredded chicken, freeze-dried eggs, and powered milk in the bag as I blitzed the three aisles containing those goods.

Nearing the limit of what I could safely carry, I made my way back to the front of the store, passing a few customers who'd been in other sections while I was grabbing my supplies. None of them tried anything, happily. Probably confused by the obvious Tinker running around doing who knew what. Things ceased going smoothly when I got to the doors however.

"Because of course the junior cops show up now, rather than when they'd be actually helpful," I growled at the sight of Kid Win and Triumph waiting on the sidewalk. "Come to come to stomp on the homeless and desperate like good little jackboots?"

Both Wards flinched, before Triumph spoke. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but going villain isn't going to solve your problems. Put down the stolen goods and come with us, we can help-"

I cut him off with a harsh, slightly manic, laugh. "Help? Really? Funny how the people who're supposed to protect us only reach out when you have powers and aren't taking their shit anymore! Where was this offer of help when I was begging for it under a relentless bullying campaign? Where was help when I was starved out of my own home? Where was help when I almost froze to death in a fucking blizzard?!?!?" Taking a few deep breaths, I raised one hand, a single finger extended. "Fuck you, fuck the PRT, fuck City Hall, and fuck those useless Skies shunned morons in DC!" With that I shoved past the stunned heroes and hurried down a nearby alleyway, before landing my drones on my back and shoulders and triggering my portable recall anchor.

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 5, 2011.

I stumbled a bit when I landed at my base, probably due to the weight of my supplies and drones. Setting down my bag and relocating the drones, I triggered another jump back to Bet to grab the mystery box before returning again. That done, I set a patrol pattern on the drones and grabbed my axe, then headed down into the forest. Making shelter was now a priority with night on the way. Well, I wasn't actually sure how long I had until sundown, but figured it would be best to get building early and that the work would distract me from my unexpected Wards encounter.

Exploding at them wasn't something I'd planned on doing, but running into a patrol like that had caught me off-guard in a way I hadn't expected. Not having a plan for such an eventuality was stupid of me, and not a mistake I could afford to make again. I was lucky that it was just the Wards really because if it'd been Protectorate, I would have either been caught or forced to abandon my drones to escape. That was a potentially fatal loss, considering how little I knew about the wildlife on Tǩóymos.

Just being caught unawares wasn't why I'd lost my temper though. It was how sincere Triumph was that set me off. Winds, why did it have to come after everything had fallen apart on me? When I'd already taken the deal that had ceded the choice to accept his offer? Why couldn't I have Triggered under the strain of the Trio's bullying? I knew I had the potential from the brain scans Cauldron had run after I'd agreed to go through their testing.

But so what if the Wards Program would get me into Arcadia? It's not like it would've stopped Dad from spending so little time at home that he forgot to keep the kitchen stocked. Sure, a Wards paycheck would've allowed me to feed myself, but that was a poor substitute for a father who cared enough to do so himself. Low standards there, I know, but it was probably the best I could hope for after Mom died. I wouldn't even be able to move out to spare myself the emotional pain of having basically lost both parents, because the Youth Guard was rumored to have quashed attempts by Wards to get emancipated, preferring to get guardianship transferred to a family of their own choosing if the Ward had a good enough case that they needed to get away from their family. While gossip was inherently untrustworthy, that one was not something I'd want to risk being true. Winds, I just kept finding reasons why villainy was at worse on par with being a Ward didn't I?

The more I thought about it, the more this whole Nemesis thing felt more like the better choice than an act of desperation. Sure, I'd obliged myself to obeying certain commands from the girl who turned our friendship into a dagger to bury in my gut, but she in turn was limited to setting a crime and location from limited lists with no ability to control or manipulate my behavior. Nothing in the contract 'Mara' and I signed said or even implied that she'd win this match-up, leaving the bitch to her own devices when it came to building her reputation. Even if she beat me in every encounter, she could lose based solely on how I behaved, and beating up a desperate teen runaway just trying to survive was almost as bad a look as kicking down a harmless humor cape. The best part was probably that she likely didn't even realize that all she had to do was ignore that she knew who I was. Her own apparent need to hurt Taylor Hebert would ruin her chances against Hausōs.

As I worked to gather building materials, my mind continued to drift further into the past…

***

Hebert Residence, Earth Bet, Nov 12, 2010.

"You know, there are other options than that."

I almost dropped the knife I was examining at the unexpected voice from behind me. "I… wah… No, that's not what I was thinking at all! My life might suck but I'm not that desperate to…" I trailed off as I turned around to find a freestanding opening in the middle of the kitchen, leading to a rooftop looking out over the San Francisco skyline, with a dark-skinned woman in a lab coat standing in the middle. "Who…?"

The woman gave me smile as she replied "I am a representative of a group called Cauldron. You were looking for us I believe."

I gaped. "You're the mystery power sellers? T-that's real? And available on my 'budget'?"

Shaking her head, the woman stated "Yes, we're real. No, ordinarily we wouldn't approach you unless you had quite a bit more funds and had done more than a few cursory searches. Fortunately for you however, one of our other clients has expressed a desire to purchase powers on your behalf, subject to your acceptance of certain terms. If you would join me, we can discuss the matter further."

Stepping through the portal onto the roof next to the woman, I jumped back with a start as a second one opened directly in front of me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that my kitchen was gone, replaced with buildings and sky. The new portal led to a white-walled conference room, where the woman was taking a seat.

"Please, come sit. We have much to talk about, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to air cape matters where others might overhear."

I walked into the room, portal vanishing behind me. "I'm not going to like what I hear am I? Nobody I know would buy me powers to help me after all."

"Your assessment is correct, unfortunately. I would not judge you in the slightest for turning the sponsorship down, as it comes quite close to violating our standards. Our client insisted on inserting a clause derived from our Nemesis Program, which is designed to boost the careers of heroically-inclined customers who aren't willing to put the effort into building themselves up the normal way. Through this program, Cauldron provides a suitable villain to act as a rival to the would-be hero, with various measures taken to ensure that the 'nemesis' will ultimately lose to the client, thus giving them a more developed reputation than they would have otherwise. In the case of the clause your sponsor added, you would be their nemesis," she then held up a hand, preempting my shout of outrage. "In doing this, they sacrificed the safety protocols and structures of the Nemesis Program in exchange for something that would be tolerable to someone with a functioning brain. All the advantage they have is in that they chose the power you would get, the ability to set up fights where they can assign you targets and crimes from a list we compiled, and a briefing on your initial results from our inhouse power testing."

"I… I'll think about it. What power am I looking at, and are there any requirements for what kind of cape persona I have?" I asked.
"Excellent questions Ruth. Your sponsor has selected a formula that grants low to mid-range Tinker abilities, typically of the Architect subcategory. As to requirements," she paused, before giving me a weirdly maternal smile. "There are none. All that you have to do is be a villain, with no restrictions on how you present yourself."

Ignoring the codename, I nodded. "That… I'm not sure, but I will definitely think on it. I don't like the idea of being a villain, but if I don't have to actively hurt people…"

"You don't, non-violent crimes are perfectly acceptable and while you would be required to commit criminal acts outside of those assigned by your sponsor for notoriety reasons, you will be paid for the attention you get. We will also ensure you don't face any long-term punishments for what you do if you are defeated, so long as you don't go overboard. Probation as a Ward is probably what you can expect there. Finally, this arrangement would only last for six months, with eleven mandated encounters, after which you are free to do as you please. If your sponsor attempts to continue past the expiration, they will find that, in either eventuality, continuing to pursue you will harm their reputation. One can only lose so many times before it starts dragging them down, and attacking someone who has already paid for their crimes screams of a vendetta rather than a desire for justice."

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 5, 2011.

I snapped out of my memories with a jerk as an alert chimed from my visor. The sun was sinking below the horizon and I'd managed to build a decent-sized earth and wood lean-to style hut among the outcrop in a fugue. Which was fortunate, as the local nightlife was beginning to emerge and I had no desire to deal with what appeared to be a feathered rat the size of a swan after the day I'd had.

Sandy River DL · Dec 15, 2021

Here's a brief Interlude covering the aftermath of Taylor's raid.

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 5, 2011.

Lisa Wilbourn stared at the other girl who had just announced that she was robbing the store as her power whispered in her mind. Angry. Resentful of authority and distrustful. Here for food, not valuables. Plans on farming. The blonde couldn't help but blink in confusion at the last insight. Farming? In a New England winter? She quietly resolved to avoid the other cape at all costs, as she had no interest in dealing with a crazy survivalist Tinker with anger issues.

***

Director Piggot looked over her desk at the two Wards who had just returned from patrol.

"So, you reported an encounter with a new villain at Bay Goods. An attempt was made to talk them into surrendering, but they engaged in a rant, before forcing their way past the both of you and vanished with their loot in an alleyway before either of you could catch them."

"That's right ma'am," replied Triumph. "A Tinker by the looks of her. Drones and a full-face visor fitted with a vocal distorter and amplifier. No power armor, just a heavy studded long coat of some sort. She had no weapons that I could see beyond a large knife that she didn't go for. She expressed exasperation rather than panic when we confronted her and called us oppressive jackboots before outright laughing at the idea that the PRT could help her situation. The rant that followed indicated less a dislike of the PRT and more a general lack of belief in the ability of any authority to provide aid. After she escaped, interviewing witnesses revealed that she only took food and food adjacent items."

Piggot turned to the Tinker of the pair. "What are your thoughts on the villain, Kid Win?"

"Well, she's clearly new, if her gear was anything to go by. Little in the way resources too, her drones had scrap plastic casings and all had noticeable differences like she'd kit-bashed the frames from spare parts. I think her watch was also tinkertech, given that it didn't have a face and was rather large. Probably a beacon for the drones, though that's just a guess. But what really struck me was what she said. 'Funny how the people who're supposed to protect us only reach out when you have powers and' er…" He trailed off. "'Aren't taking their shit anymore', is how she put it."

"So," the director said slowly, "we have a paranoid homeless anti-authority Tinker who is strapped for resources and feels that the only reason anyone will pay her any attention is because they want her powers. Go file your reports and head home, you've done your part."

Watching the teens leave, Piggot picked up her phone and dialed a number. "Armsmaster, we've got a new villainous Tinker in town…"

***

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 6, 2011.

Max Anders set down the report from one of the unpowered E88 members that had come in overnight. "A new Tinker? And both white and disinclined towards the PRT… See if you can't track her down James, we could use someone like her. Bring Rune along, someone closer to her own age should make her more amiable. Whatever you do, do not spook her. The last thing we want to do is drive her away and into Coil's arms."

***

In a bunker below Brockton Bay's Financial District, a man in a skintight black bodysuit decorated with a white snake closed the video player displaying stolen security camera footage and smiled under his mask. The only question was if the new Tinker should be given to the Undersiders to make the group more useful, or if he should keep her for himself.

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 6, 2011.

Contessa stepped out of Doormaker's portal behind the inquisitive creature investigating Hausōs's freshly constructed shelter and caught it in a debilitating hold. She then passed back through to Bet, where the fedora'd woman walked to an ordinary-looking house on the outskirts of Boston. Picking the lock one-handed, she pushed open the door and tossed the rat-like animal through the doorway and closed everything back up. Strolling away she spoke in a hushed voice. "Step 374 in the Path to Getting Better Coffee complete."

Sandy River DL · Jan 8, 2022

After a Christmas drought, I have completed the next installment!

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 6, 2011.

The light of the dawn sun shining through a gap in the wall woke me as it passed over my face. Standing, I groaned as my spine popped. Right, making a proper bed or getting a pad of some sort was now in my Top Ten Needs list, because gneiss makes for terrible mattress. Also, never sleep in my brigandine again. Issuing another groan, I began gathering up the supplies I'd need to build my hydro-generator, before stopping. "Shit, don't have anything for wires yet. Guess I'll need to hit a hardware store in the next few days, maybe get some lights, sockets, and outlets while I'm there."

Letting out a sigh, I set down what I'd just picked up and instead grabbed my axe-pick and visor, along with a spam tin. This done, I slid aside the odd bark-and-branch door on the hut and stepped outside, where I found a trio of footprints that appeared to have been made by a pair of dress shoes. Strange, but unless there's someone else capable of interdimensional travel, it was probably Cauldron related. No idea what would bring them here overnight, but it could easily have been them checking in on me, given the doctor's interest.

I shuddered slightly. Yes, as power sellers they had good reason to be interested in the results I got, but I still didn't like the idea of only being valuable because of superpowers.

Pushing that line of thought aside, I set the drones to scanning the surrounding flora for edibles before heading down towards the stream with them in tow. When in unfamiliar forested terrain with no trails, following waterways was your best for not getting lost, after all. Additionally, rivers and streams often exposed interesting mineral deposits, such as the malachite vein just upstream of me. Walking along the bank to the sound would give me a good idea of what I had to work with in terms of geological resources. The abundance of heavily metamorphized rock and ongoing volcanism in the area made me hopeful of finding rutile, ilmentite, gold, silver, and other such materials, which would give me a nice boost once I had the infrastructure to utilize them properly.

My primary goal though, was searching for clay and either geothermal hematite deposits or accumulations of iron sand. While copper was useful, I didn't want to depend on finding cassiterite to get tool production going and with my power I could easily make the jump from stone to iron. Or just skip stone entirely, as I already had the tools needed to get the ores harvested and make the furnaces, while not having any workable stone.

Transporting the gathered resources would need some thought, as I'd like to keep my bag clean for food. Maybe finding a flax substitute would be a good idea, then I could make more bags and sacks as needed.

With all that considered, I began traversing the stream bank with my axe-pick serving as a walking stick.

***

Three hours and the spam later, I'd arrived at the outflow of my stream. In front of me was a sandy estuary formed by a large river about a mile up the coast from my position, with cattail-like reeds growing in the shallows. Along the way I'd spotted several bands of gold-laden quartz along with an entire hillside of magnesite and a small beach of iron sand, all of which I'd noted down with landmarks. I'd also dubbed the waterway Malachite Creek, as veins of the blue-green mineral were practically everywhere along its run, to the point that it might have uncovered a commercially viable source.

"I'm going to need more beacons, I think. For the ore sites and this beach, as it's quite a nice one. Those reed things could be useful too, if they're similar enough to cattails. Cloth, food, and fuel in one package," I said aloud as I surveyed the area. Looking out towards the sound, I focused on the only visible barrier island. "The Annette Islands, I think. Or maybe I should name the sound after her, and call the islands something else. While the islands shelter me from the storms, the sound can provide nourishment and comfort… Eh, I'll figure that out later."

Abandoning the naming for now, I turned to the water plants and began carefully harvesting a good number. Digging them out by the roots was going to be annoying, but I wasn't inclined to waste anything that might be useful in them. Once I had one, I carefully split open the base of the stalk at the junction with the roots and gave it a sniff. "Wow that smells sweet. Less starch and more outright sucrose here. I guess these are closer to sugarcane than cattails, which means that they won't make good fiber sources. Oh well, they're still quite useful." Fermenting them should allow for water purification and disinfectant production. Having sugar is nice too, even if I didn't want to put the effort into having it regularly. It also meant that I still didn't have a local starch source yet, and would need to dig through the sensor logs to look for one.

With that thought, I paused. Other than the feathery swan-rat, I hadn't actually seen any wildlife here that wasn't an insect or water-dwelling. It was strange, but possibly a result of the local animals being the cautious sort or maybe my drones were emitting infrasonics that were repelling them. That was… mixed news, as it meant that while predators wouldn't be much of a concern for now, hunting would also not be viable until I worked out what was happening and made the necessary steps to either modify the drones or let the fauna get used to me.

Musing finished, I returned to uprooting 'sweettails' until I had an armful of the plants, at which point I called back my drones and triggered the recall system. Appearing back at base, I almost dropped my cargo at the sight of the doctor standing next to my hut. That was… not expected, though considering that they had no other way of contacting me, it should have been. And I had made my first appearance as a cape yesterday.

"So, doctor, what brings you to my humble abode?" I queried, reasoning that the sooner the visit was delt with, the sooner I'd be able to begin processing my harvest.

With one of her maternal smiles, she replied "Just checking in on you. I received a report that one of our people left you something?"

I shrugged. "Depends on if the name 'Tessa' means anything to you. She stashed a box with a laptop, a bicycle generator, and a communications relay that the accompanying note claimed has Haywire derived technology for interdimensional usage. It looks enough like the transceivers I got from you guys for me to find a connection plausible."

The doctor sighed a little. "Yes, she's one of ours. A rather eccentric Thinker, albeit a very strong one. And presumably she felt we'd made an oversight in our handling of your situation and decided that giving you those items would remedy it. She's also liable to turn up at random to ask odd things of you, or deliver a briefcase full of drugs in the middle of the night…" Shaking herself, the older woman continued "Ultimately, you just have to learn to roll with it if she takes an interest in you and hope it's short term. It usually is for the rare customers who attract her attention, but on occasion she's seen fit to keep sticking her nose in like she does with the rest of us at Cauldron."

I groaned. The last thing I needed was a stranger wandering in at random on top of everything else. It would be distracting, at the very least, and could ruin any hunting attempts as much as the potential infrasonics problem. "Is there any way to get her to leave me alone, or at least stick to drop offs? I'm not exactly in a great place right now, even with all the resources available. Winds, I haven't even secured a food supply not based on theft!"

"Unfortunately not, though she is generally considerate enough not to interrupt anything important. I didn't just come here to chat with you about my colleague's quirks however, so let's move on," was her reply. "Now, you said that you don't have a local food supply?"

"Yeah. I'd thought I'd found something, but these reeds here turned out to be more like sugarcane than cattails. That leaves me without a native starch, and I'll need to go through my sensor data and do more exploring to find either a fruit or root vegetable to keep me going until I've got a successful harvest of the crops I acquired. Stealing food works, but I don't want to continue doing it indefinitely because I hope to be self-sufficient by the end of the contract, and, more importantly, a pattern like that would get me caught. I'd very much like to avoid that, for a variety of reasons. So playing hunter-gatherer while I build up is probably my best choice, if I can find what I need and figure out why the wildlife is avoiding me."

A few moments passed with a thoughtful expression on the doctor's face before she responded. "There isn't anything I can do to help, at least not directly. Just prioritize yourself over your villainous activities and I will keep your sponsor from using the contract to disrupt your efforts. And if you wouldn't mind doing so, Cauldron would pay you, monetarily like for the notoriety tasks or in processed materials, for the creation of several of your recall anchors for our use."

"Thank you, and I'll see what I can do about building you some anchors. I'd need tools and parts though, and I'm… aways… from being able to make what I need here. All I've got at the moment is this hut and what I made during power testing. Though with a bit more time, I can start clearing some land for farming and start building infrastructure for fabrication…"

The doctor nodded, her following words breaking me out of the beginnings of another fugue. "I will see about setting aside a workshop for you to use, along with the materials you used to manufacture the original units. Do you have preference in payment method, or shall I just send it to the account that your notoriety pay goes to?"

I blinked. "Wait, you never mentioned a payment account when you talked about the notoriety tasks. I thought I'd be getting cash!" Then a though occurred to me. "What would I even use money for anyway? It's not like I'd be going shopping in costume and a homeless teen isn't exactly going to have much."

"We didn't cover that?" came the older woman's response. "I thought I had told you we were setting you up with a bank account under your customer pseudonym through Number Man. As for what you can do with it, there are websites that you can order items through for delivery. Most of them don't even ask questions about the address used, so you could send things to the warehouse you're using for pick up. I believe some even deal in survival equipment and seeds."

Eyes widening under my visor, I breathed "And Toybox… I completely forgot about them! They might be able to supply me with tech that would let me skip some of the more annoying steps. Like if I could get something that could refine magnesite, I'd be able to start making batteries and light structural alloys I need for…" I shook my head "Yeah, lots of options."

A smile on her face, the doctor replied "A good choice there, though I would recommend caution when dealing with Toybox. They aren't what could be called dangerous, but will try to use their reputation to leverage you into their orbit and a tinker as versatile as you would be quite appealing to them."

I let out a groan. "Everybody really does just want me for my powers…"

"I'm sure you'll find someone who cares about Taylor Hebert, teenage girl. It may mean going out as a civilian, but you're bound to meet a real friend at some point," the older woman said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Sighing, I asked "Was there anything else? I need to get to work processing these sweettails to see what I can get out of them."

The doctor didn't verbally respond, simply stepping backwards through a portal that had just appeared. Well, that was certainly a way to say that the conversation was over.

Glancing back down at my armful of reeds, I had to force down the impulse to facepalm. "I didn't even think about how to soak these… Stupid! Looks like I'll have to be finding what they can be used for without having the sugar extracted first."

***

I ultimately just laid out the sweettails on the outcrop to dry and started searching the scanner logs from my drones rather than do anything labor intensive. While doing this, I also set the drones themselves to do some general surveying of the landscape around my hill for sites of interest. A better water source that could also supply a farm, for example was high on the list because, while good for electrical generation, the stream was ill-suited to irrigation and drinking water collection thanks to the steep banks and narrow channel that made it useful for the former role in the first place. If there wasn't one, this location would be effectively nonviable.

Keeping an eye on the live feeds, I wandered over to the westward side of the hill, examining the broadleaved groundcover that clad the gentler slope in that direction. A plant with ribbed leaves had caught my attention in the data as having tuberous structures in the roots that may be similar to potatoes, though the current scanner modules in the drones weren't good enough to check the makeup though the intervening dirt and loam. Actually finding the correct piece of flora turned out to be a bit of a chore, as there turned out to be multiple such herbs of varying sizes and the drone logs didn't convey scale well. Another thing to fix once I had the capability natively I guess. Always more to do…

Shaking that thought clear, I crouched down and gave a candidate plant an experimental tug. It came free with a slightly surprising amount of ease, revealing a cluster of russet tubers that certainly resembled potatoes, even if their edibility was not a guarantee. Splitting one open with my knife, I took a sniff, leveraging my thinker ability just like I had with the sweettails. "Okay, I think these might be some variety of actual wild potatoes. Or close enough, considering how long ago the divergence for this world must have been. Still, not too surprising to find them, given that potatoes came from the Americas to start with." A slight smile then formed on my lips. "Heh, maybe I'll find chili peppers, tomatoes, and onions next. Spicy food without waiting for cultivation! Kyne willing, I might even be able to crossbreed the local versions with heirloom cultivars to produce my own customized varieties, which could be interesting. I'll need to find some spices and seasonings too, preferably locally though, so I don't need to do as much work tracking down and farming Bet ones on top of the critical food crops."

Yeah, I'd definitely need to buy some stuff from Toybox to skip a few steps so I could build the equipment to keep ahead of all the things I needed to operate. Maybe I should try recruiting too… No, bad idea, way too risky. I didn't even have any friends, let alone people I trusted enough to bring here. Hell, I didn't trust Cauldron to be here, but there wasn't any real way to keep them out. …Well, there was, but I was a long way away from building a terawatt-class fusion reactor and a planet-wide network of dimensional shroud emitters. I'd be space-capable before I reached that point, considering some of the requirements.

I blinked. Wow, it was beginning to look like I somehow ended up with my own version of Leet's power, one without the one-off limit and the tendency toward catastrophic failure. It'd take me awhile to exploit it properly, but Emma would definitely regret insisting on the Nemesis rider eventually. Assuming I didn't send her off the deep end with my villain persona and get her jailed for her actions. In which case she probably wouldn't be regretting the forcing me to be a villain part and be more wishing she'd chosen to go villain herself so she wouldn't have to care about PR or the real heroes looking over her shoulder. Either way was fine.

Turning my focus back to the potato plant I'd uprooted, I began examining it for signs of readiness. While clearly not the same species as that cultivated on Bet, I could tell the plant's small fruits were ripe and that the potatoes themselves were mature enough for use. A look at several near-by plants that I could now recognize as the same showed them to be at somewhat different stages of development, with two being in bloom. It made sense, this being a subtropical to tropical area, the annual plants wouldn't have a discrete growing season and would thus be developing at varying rates based on when their seeds sprouted. Ah, the benefits of farming and foraging where it doesn't freeze every year…

A shudder ran down my spine and my breathing quickened. "Get it together Taylor! You aren't in Brockton Bay anymore. You're on Tǩóymos, there aren't any blizzards in tropical coastal lowlands, so you can stop having trauma flash-backs!" Sucking in a deep breath and holding it for several seconds, I exhaled slowly. "Fucking PTSD… It would've made sense if I had an attack when I was on Bet, but here?"

After a few more cycles of controlled breathing had settled the narrowly aborted panic attack, I headed back to my shelter with the harvested potato plant in hand. I'd need to build a proper storehouse soon, though that would wait until after I'd decided whether be staying at my current location or moving elsewhere. The confined flow of Malachite Creek made for excellent power generation, but the adjacent hillsides were not ideal for farming and unless there was another water source like I hoped, I'd need to settle the flood plain of the… let's go with Alexandria River to take advantage of the rich alluvial soil there. I'd still want a hilltop to set up my main buildings though, both to protect against flooding and to keep myself well away from volcanic gas releases. It wouldn't help should there be pyroclastic flows, but the only two volcanoes in range were likely shields and thus had little risk of turning me into a miniature Pompeii. Still, something to look into soon.

Finding other ore deposits and a place to set up a hydro-generator on the Alexandria would take time and would likely be less convenient, but there's no such thing as a truly perfect location in the real world. Having all the resources one could possibly need within an hour's walk was something that only happened in lazily written fiction after all. Still, even without any additional anchors, I could always make a boat of some kind for riverine transport, which, thinking about it, would also allow me to move much larger quantities of raw materials around than I could by hand, even with a wheelbarrow or sacks. It was, after all, one of the big reasons that waterways were major trade routes even to this day.

Hydropower was, however, still problematic. Constructing a small water wheel to drive a generator was fairly simple, but harnessing a river required a much more significant and complex setup than that, which is the big reason I wanted to stay where I was. Between the ease of running my base off the Malachite and the various benefits of direct access to bedrock, my current location was quite defensible against whatever predators might be around and could easily be electrified once I hit a hardware store.

On the Alexandria, however, I had a good chance of either needing to lay a full powerline connection, or being left exposed in a valley. Neither of those was appealing, and I wouldn't make any decision until both my current area and a large stretch of land from the estuary to about five miles upriver had been scanned. Better to spend time being thorough than make a snap judgement and get my ass bitten by something I'd missed, after all. And 'get my ass bitten' meant 'death', not 'oh I goofed', because this was a virgin world with no margin of error from having other people around.

Maybe the recruiting idea wasn't a terrible one, but I'd need to make some friends first and that meant going out in civvies on Bet. I might not even be able to build the necessary relationships before the contract ran out either, so that was an issue. Going back was not something I was planning on doing much once I no longer had to. Of course, six months could well not be enough time to become self-sustaining from the work of one person, so I might have to keep up the villainy for longer than the contract required…

I let out a sigh as I began stripping the local potatoes from their plant and placing them into the alcove I was using as a supply stash. Recruitment was inevitable, it seemed, if only for sustaining a stable food supply. I'd have to start thinking about how to approach that, as just coming out and saying that I'm a villain looking to populate a farmstead on an alternate Earth was a decidedly bad idea. Getting arrested was rather counterproductive to making a new life for myself.

Further musing was cut short as something from the live feed caught my attention. "Well, I'm definitely not staying here anymore," I said, focusing on the bear-sized avianoid on a hillside half a mile away. "No matter how defensible this place is, the soil won't allow for a sufficiently secure abatis to be emplaced and I don't have the materials to build walls solid enough to keep something that big out. If I had a quarry and mortar, I might be able to pull it off, but then I wouldn't have much space left and the thing could probably knock down a stonework barrier held together by immature lime mortar anyways."

Tasking a drone to monitor the megafauna predator, I sent the other two off to survey the Alexandria Estuary and lower floodplain for a site suitable for constructing a hillfort. While stone or concrete would be best, a steep-sided earthwork capped with wooden spikes and set behind a wide ditch was still a significant obstacle to a ground bound wild animal. Really, the only problematic part of a fortified homestead was accessing it myself. Using a broch as an entry tower could work, though that had the disadvantage of making it difficult to bring in supplies. A crane or hoist would solve that though, and was something I should develop anyways…

Noting down the ideas, I then forced myself to attend to other, more pressing, matters. Like how I needed to get my armor off rather badly. While temperatures had initially been mild enough that my winter-rated brigandine hadn't been uncomfortable, it was now getting to be quite warm and humid. Raiding a clothing or fabric store would be a good plan to pull soon, with locally sourcing weavable fibers and making a loom being high on the list for post-establishment priorities. Cotton would be the simplest to harvest, but was labor-intensive and thus would need a fair amount of build-up to use. Kopak would be easier to process into cloth, but required climbing some pretty tall trees to collect and was rather flammable. Flax or hemp were probably the best options, but would require me to acquire the seeds from Bet, meaning that supply would be much more limited until I could establish sufficient automation capacity. On the other hand, doing so would also guarantee having a fiber crop, as I had no idea if there even were local analogues to the former set of plants.

I ultimately ended up stripped down to my undershirt, only leaving my pants and boots on for protection, even if doing so left me still a little on the warm side. Replacing my visor revealed that my drones had reached the estuary and had already found one potential site not far from where Malachite Creek entered the larger body. A bluff-skirted hill set above a junction with a smaller river that had deposited a bar of iron sand jutting out into the brackish inlet. The hill itself was around eighty feet high, with a gentler slope on the shoreward side, leading into the forest. That lack of trees, coupled with its shape, made it less appealing than it might otherwise have been. A clay-heavy soil like that implied would not be good for building on. Still, it was the first clay source I'd found, so it was certainly a useful discovery.

Fortunately, a second option, in the form of granite studded prominence, was in close proximity. Situated on another riverine junction, this time on the Alexandria itself, this site was practically an island connected to the mainland by lightly forested isthmus of mud and silt that had accumulated after one of the rivers had wandered. An excellent place to farm, so long as I kept the banks wooded, preferably with trees that would catch more sediment in their roots. The channel immediately adjacent to the exposed bedrock was fast flowing enough for a waterwheel generator, but the slope was far too steep. Digging a canal across the isthmus would work though, and had the added benefit of serving as a moat too.

Maneuvering the drone around for a better angle, I grinned. The shoreward slope of the hill was easily scalable and had several natural terraces that structures could be built on, while creating a single trail up to the top that could have a fairly simple fortification emplaced to control. Even better, the formation was large. Large enough to fit two or three city blocks on it with room to spare, which meant there was plenty of space for a decent village, including storehouses and workshops. Depending on just how high floods could get, I might be able to put up a post bridge along the isthmus to connect to the low hills on the other side, allowing for more growth once defenses could be constructed there. And I thought I would be expanding that way, given a small brook flowing from there showed signs of being the outflow of one or more hot springs.

A few quick commands sent both drones to conduct a close scan of the site and everything within a mile of it, looking for ores and assessing the stability of the ground. If the latter came up clear, and the former were reasonably abundant, it would become my new base. I even had a potential name lined up, though I wouldn't use it until my checks were completed. A broad smile played across my too-wide lips. "The hearth of a new flame…"

Sandy River DL · Jan 9, 2022

Okay, I'd been drawing up a timeline to show how things got to where they are, including that Taylor had abandoned the house prior to the blizzard, when I realized I made a fairly large error. I had Cauldron first contact Taylor in mid-December, only about a week before she ran away from home. This is far too little time for everything, so it's being changed to from December 12th to November 12th so as to allow time for Cauldron's pre-vial tests, the results of which, like in Nemesis, could have influenced whether or not the contract went though if Tay wasn't desperate.

Sandy River DL · Jan 16, 2022

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 6, 2011.

Leaving the two airborne scanners to their survey, I pulled out a couple of cans from my food stash. "I really should grab pots and a lighter of some kind soon. Not having cooking gear makes having pasta and eggs rather pointless after all," I grumbled.

That was a rather embarrassing mistake, but fortunately there wasn't anyone around to hold it over me. Sure, cold spam was not particularly pleasant, but it was edible. Following it with a can of fruit cocktail would help too.

Still, the list of things I needed was growing rapidly and that meant running another raid within the next couple days. Preferably several, hitting different places over the course of a day. Planning that out properly would be critical, as getting tracked to the warehouse I was staging out of would cripple my project real fast, potentially even leading to Armsmaster getting his hands on the base unit there and then it would be only a matter of time before the PRT gained access to my new home.

Actually, how would me getting caught at this stage affect things? If the Protectorate used my anchor system to reach Tǩóymos, they'd find my primitive steading and would, unless they were even more worthless than I thought, realize that I just want to get away. And would having the PRT in place of Cauldron in a tech-for-supplies arrangement be any different? Probably, as I doubted that their regulations would allow something like that and the Youth Guard was certain to throw a fit over it if it was. Getting tossed into the Wards with a YG foster family breathing down my neck sounded like hell, assuming they didn't just drop me right back where I started.

And that was if Cauldron didn't have a way to keep people off my back. Any analysis of the recall anchors would show that I couldn't have gotten to another Earth without help, and you don't survive as a mysterious shadow organization in a world with thinkers without being very thorough and proactive about covering your tracks. I don't think they'd kill me or anything, not with how interested the doctor was in the anchors, but snatching me and my tech with those portals?

Suppressing a shudder that might have risked spilling my fruit, I began working over ideas to mask my trail. It could be helpful in hunting too, not just avoiding being chained to the will of others, whoever they may be.

***

While many ways to travel without leaving meaningful traces came to mind, the only one I could actually make with available tools were frilled snowshoes. Not as useful as the various gravitic systems or a ghost cloak, but, like all the best tech I could muster, those required infrastructure I didn't have yet. Surprisingly little human-scale stealth was based on equipment, mostly being a matter of technique and skill, so figuring out how to do that would join my ever-growing tasks list.

In the meantime, I'd need to find some stiff yet flexible vine to make frames for the snowshoes. Or maybe I'm overcomplicating things and should just steal a pair in my next outing. "Power wants to be used, I guess. Well, it'll be getting a workout once I have more supplies to use. Especially when I get going on base building, what with all the various things that need to be made. And since I want the permanent structures to be upgradable, that means preplanning a lot of things and ensuring plenty of places for new fittings. Plumbing's going to be a right pain to retrofit though…"

With the massive deposit of clay near my candidate site, red brick would be an option for construction, but that took several steps of brickmaking to reach and since I'd need cement for water resistance anyway, Roman concrete would be quicker to make, even if the brick would be needed for other things. Wood was also an option, but tropical environments weren't conductive to the long-term integrity of organic materials and thus relegated to short-term roofing. Cobb and mudbrick were right out as the first big storm would wash either one away.

I shook my head vigorously. Okay, it looked like I really needed to get on with planning my crime spree so I could get what I needed for my power supply and building projects, because my need to tinker was getting pretty strong. Probably should get plenty of extra food too, as what I had wouldn't last long enough to see me through the construction project and it was doubtful if I'd be thinking about making food runs. And avoid forgetting the cooking supplies this time too. Even with the tropical heat, a hot meal was far superior to overwarm spam.

Executing the plan I was working on would have to wait until after I'd gotten a certified site to work though, as the more I had, the more there would be to move if my location wasn't a good one and I did not want to haul hundreds of pounds of supplies who knew how far and over unknown terrain. I already needed to build a boat or raft of some kind so I could gather limestone or coral from wherever there may be any, and having to make it early to transport stuff I could easily have waited to get would slow things down more than I was willing to accept. Rushed and sloppy planning was already giving me issues and I could not afford to let that continue. One near-death experience because I'd not been thinking far enough ahead was one too many, and another could easily skip the near part. I had to be better.

***

A few hours had past as I planned and schemed for my next outing, when an alert popped up on my visor. The survey had been completed, with the candidate site cleared for use and two secondary sites had been located three-quarters of a mile upriver on opposite banks of the Alexandria. Both rutile and cassiterite had been found in several alluvial deposits in the intervening stretch, along with a detectable but unknown amount of gold and diamond. Near the hot springs I'd inferred was a collapsed pile of travertine terraces that must have fallen due to an earthquake that also seemed to have shut its accompanying spring and would make for a convenient early source of lime.

A mile to the north-east were signs of a coal vein in the form of scattered pieces of anthracite in ancient landslide debris, which I would need to have scanned soon. Actually getting the coal would have to be restricted to extracting the loose stuff from the broken ground rather than mining the actual bed until I had an automated system for that work, as I didn't want to subject myself or any followers I get to the dangers of doing that job in person. Not that I expected to be using coal for long enough to really need a proper mine, unless the rubble didn't contain much.

Also present in the surrounding forest were a number of trees bearing potentially edible fruits, though how good they were was unknowable without taste-testing. It could well be an unpleasant experience, and should probably require waiting until after I had water treatment in place, but it would be the only way to have non-berry fresh fruit here for decades. A balanced diet was rather important after all, and was hard to maintain in a premodern agricultural society without taking advantage of wild produce.

Pausing my log review, I quickly added water pipes and charcoal filters to my supply list. Might as well get started on that early, especially since it would simplify the upcoming construction.

Moving on, I noted an expanse of flooded grassland near the edge of the surveyed area along the eastern bank of the as-yet unnamed smaller river that was covered with a stiff, almost papyrus-like plant, interspaced with an odd flowering fern that was floating in a similar manner to a lily pad and had a fibrous stem. I'd definitely need to check that out for suitability in cloth making. There were also the first mammalian animals I'd seen here wading through the shallow water, looking rather like some sort of semiaquatic deer. Possible prey, but I'd want a good ranged weapon to bring them down, as the adults were about two tons. Dangerous and far too much meat unless I had a lot more people to feed.

With nothing else standing out at the moment, I checked the estimated time and began redistributing my things to facilitate transportation over to my new location. It would be easier if I had a third anchor, but with only the one here I'd have to settle for skip half the travel time. My eyes drifted to one of the three unused portable anchors I'd made during testing. Why'd I made extra, I wasn't sure but I just had an idea to make them useful in moving. Activating one, I checked the list on my visor's display. Only two ID codes were present. It'd been a longshot, considering the size difference between the base units and the wrist-mounted ones, but if that idea had worked, a lot of time could've been saved.

Powering down the device, I grabbed both my axe-pick and entrenching tool and headed out again. If I couldn't simplify transport, I'd just have to get things ready ahead of time, like building a storage hut at the site to keep everything in while I worked on moving my supplies and got the primary shelter up. A simple wood and earth lean-to like I'd build at my current location would serve nicely as a temporary depot.

The trip to the estuary took much less time than the first one did, if only due to not needing to survey the route as I went. Getting from there to my new base location, however, was another two hours as I had to ford the small river next to the clay hill and swim across the Alexandria to reach the isthmus. That boat might be needed earlier than I'd been thinking after finding the travertine…

After some work clambering through the tangled roots of the mangrove-like trees along the water's edge, I quickly traversed the much more walkable woodland within to the base of the hill that would house my village. One of the midlevel terraces on the leeward side featured a firm but workable soil that would hold posts well enough, so I used the pick spike to draw an outline to work from. It was much larger than my basic shelter, around thirty-five feet by twenty, but it had to hold not just a few days' food and some gear along with a person. This would be holding building supplies and raw materials to raise both a small house and a more robust storehouse that would support my future projects. A second, more food-focused, one would be needed once I started recruiting though, as the first structure would be mainly devoted to other resources.

Pausing a moment, I quickly added a couple lines to indicate where a sleeping annex would go, so I wouldn't have to spend hours every morning making the trip here from my original site to work on the various projects. That would be a horrendous waste of time for no benefit. What I was building now wouldn't last long against a tropical storm or a monsoon, so the faster I got them done, the faster I could get going on more permanent construction that would. Moving the anchor to here early on would probably be a good idea too, as that way I wouldn't need to carry everything by hand down to the estuary and then could push back boat-building again, even if that would mean still needing to do a lot of swimming.

Switching to the entrenching tool, I began digging a footing ditch to fit the wall timbers, piling up the dirt to back-fill with later. Once that was done, I reverted to using my axe-pick and headed down to start collecting wood. This was going to take a while…

***

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 7, 2011.

I sighed as I stepped out of warehouse I was staging from on Bet. With a persistent light rain and heavy mist hanging over my basecamp preventing me from finishing work at my village, I'd decided that a civilian excursion was a better use of my time than sitting around in my shelter doing nothing while waiting for the weather to clear up. I'd also brought over my food, not wanting the pervasive damp to ruin it. This outing would also hopefully function as initial recruitment scouting, but above all, I knew I needed at least some human interaction with people who weren't actively manipulating me for their own ends.

As wandering the Docks was a rather bad idea, I began making my way towards the Boardwalk. Not only would I be safer in that area, I was also more likely to find people I could talk to. Now, the Boardwalk itself was probably not the best place for me to hang out, but the surrounding couple blocks would be reasonably clear of threats while being far enough away that the private security goons wouldn't be an issue. Making a point of appearing around there for a few hours every three or four days would allow me to start getting a feel for the space and those who frequented it.

While it turned out my waypoint was surprisingly close to the Bay's tourist district, gusting wind started blowing snow into my face about halfway. This, naturally, caused me several problems. And being momentarily blinded was the least of them, as the barely suppressed panic attack from yesterday came roaring back with vengeance, sending me stumbling.

Feeling myself being yanked sideways jolted me enough to clear the haze that was beginning to fill my mind to the point I could process what had just happened. The grungiest looking guy I'd even seen was leering at me with bloodshot eyes. Then he screamed "Gimme all your money or I'll gut yeh like a fish!"

Keeping a careful watch on the ill-maintained knife he was waving around, I growled back "I've been on the streets for two weeks, what money?!"

That had probably been the wrong thing to say, as the drug-addict mugging me was much faster than I'd expected and sliced open my cheek before I could react. "Nice try girly. One more chance to- grhk!"

His threat was cut off as a thoroughly unexpected figure tore him away, leaving me to drop into an awkward heap on the snowy ground. Floating five feet in the air, mugger in hand, was the golden-haired form of New Wave's Glory Girl in all her radiant splend- I shook my head, doing my best to force the flood of euphoria and awe out of my mind. It didn't help much, but at least I could focus on more than just the horrifying urge to worship her. Like, for example, the worn-looking freckled brunette giving the hovering heroine an exasperated look.

"Enough of that, Victoria," the girl who could only be Panacea said. "Just go hand him off to the cops while I deal with her cheek."

Once the boisterous blonde had flown off, her sister crouched down next to me and asked "Do I have permission to heal you?"

"Uh, yeah? I mean, if it's to not a problem…" I replied, suddenly feeling awkward. I, a villain, had just been rescued by a hero and was getting aid from another, both from a group known for its very black-and-white worldview. Yes, they didn't know I was a villain, and wouldn't unless I chose to tell them, but that didn't make it wany less weird. Then a hand came to rest on my uninjured cheek, causing me to flinch at the contact.

"You know, joining the Wards would get you a warm bed and an income," the healer stated conversationally. Crap, she could see people's biological states when she was using her powers, and that included the Corona structures that demonstrated parahuman status.

"A-and be tossed back to my worthless excuse for a father? Or be dumped with a family of strangers for the next two years? N-no th-thanks," I stuttered back. Dammit, I was getting cold much quicker than I'd anticipated. The snow to the face and landing in more was probably responsible for that. But I doubted I could just disappear back to Tǩóymos when on the radar of the two Dallon sisters, at least not for a while yet.

Then a treacherous thought entered my mind. What if I could get them on my side? Both had powers that would be ideal for a small isolated colony and, more importantly, they were both around my age, with Glory Girl being about a year older. Having friends would be even better than just useful allies after all, and Panacea's freckles were kinda cute. Of course, Sophia was also a looker but an utter bitch, so that didn't mean much. Beefcake guy or slender girl, appearance was a terrible guide to personality, which was the most important thing at this point for me.

Standing, the other girl said "Well, you could try going for an affiliate position. Not as secure or stable as the Wards, but," she eyed my worn clothes "it would be better than living where ever you picked up a respiratory yeast infection. Still, you're all fixed, so that's my job done."

Pausing, she shivered and adjusted her scarf and hood against the stiff breeze.

"Personally, I don't really care what you get up to with a mask on so long as you don't leave a mess I need to clean up. I'm sure as hell not going to give you the 'heroic duty' spiel when clearly you don't believe that crap any more than I do."

I blinked. That was not an attitude I'd been expecting from a member of New Wave. "I'm not particularly interesting in hurting people, so that shouldn't be too hard."

Then, a faint grin forming, I added "No promises if the Nazis poke their noises into my business though, beyond aiming for traumatic brain injuries."

The brunette let out a short laugh. "You're in the clear there, as I hardly ever have to deal with that trash. The upside to the Nazis having their own pet healer."

"You know, you're not really what I'd expected," I noted. "That grumpy cat attitude doesn't fit the New Wave image at all. And with that quip about not caring unless I put people in the hospital? Is your work really that stressful?"

Panacea raised an eyebrow at me "I believe you're only the third person to notice that, though the cat comparison's a new one. Can't say I see it, but at least Clockblocker's not around to make a crass joke out of it."

Then Glory Girl dropped down next to us, cutting off further conversation with a low-key surge of her aura. While I didn't think either girl noticed, I caught the subtle shudder running down the healer's frame. Were either of them aware that the blonde's emotive field was always active? Because that totally didn't seem like it could be a problem. They should probably be informed, but they had absolutely no reason to trust me and I did not want New Wave angry at me.

Suddenly, there was a hand stuck out in front of me. I blinked. That was Glory Girl's hand. Why was she holding her hand out to me? The statuesque blonde started waving her hand around. "What, no shake?"

I stared at her. "Do you do this with every homeless girl you rescue?"

She smiled back "Nah, most of them run off while I'm dealing with whatever baddy was messing with them. You, however, stayed and look like you could use some friendly time. So, name?"

"Taylor," I sighed. "I'm not sure you're thinking of though. This does seem rather spur-of-the-moment to me, and you clearly already had plans."

Glory Girl blinked and looked slightly taken aback. Really living up to that impulsive and thoughtless reputation there.

"Let's just bring her shopping with us Vicky," Panacea interjected, and, waving her phone added "Carol wants us to divert to the department store on 3rd to get some things for home. We can get Taylor a few things too, like clothes that can actually keep her warm."

I shot a betrayed look at the healer, trying to ignore the chill that went down my spine at the grin her sister now sported.

"Seriously, you need better clothes, otherwise you'll freeze to death and waste my work," was her bored response. "Besides, she's already decided to drag you into something and trying to stop her doesn't generally work. It's how she's gotten me into dates with half a dozen guys I've happened to share classes with." The last part was accompanied by a flat look directed at Vicky.

"What? How else am I supposed to help you find a boyfriend if you haven't told me what you're looking for! If you'd do that, or find someone yourself, I wouldn't keep dropping bad dates on you!" retorted the blonde.

"Ugh! I've got too much on my plate as it is! I don't need to add a romantic relationship to the mix, as I've told you before!"

"Er, not to be rude," I broke in, "But I really don't need to be involved in a family squabble. If that's your planned activity, I'm out."

Both heroes turned to look at me. Maybe that was a bad move and I should've just left while they were distracted… Then again, the movement would probably have caught their attention, especially since they'd managed to position themselves to corner me. Somehow, I'd missed that despite the improved awareness I had and eighteen months of conditioning, which was fairly concerning.

I was almost pulled from my feet as Glory- Vicky grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the Boardwalk. "Right! Let's get on that shopping trip!" She then looked over her shoulder at me and continued "I think a proper coat and some gloves, maybe new pants too, for you clothes wise and then we'll find you a sleeping bag and some cold weather camping gear."

Oh merciful Kyne, what had I gotten into?

~~A/N: I was not expecting Vicky to drag Taylor into her orbit this quickly, but she was rather insistent.~~

Sandy River DL · Feb 14, 2023

We're back baby!

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 7, 2011.

"Weren't we just getting me a coat?" I asked Amy, ensconced in the changing room stalls. It was not a whine, and any claims to the contrary were nothing but lies. I was a self-respecting supervillain after all! Who hadn't even announced her name yet. And was currently shopping with two heroes. I quickly squashed that line of thought, giving myself a panic attack over my situation was a bad idea, what with the need to explain what happened. "I neither want nor can accommodate a bunch of the latest fashion!"

"We're shopping with my sister. If we set out to buy a few pairs of socks, we end up with a half-dozen matched outfits. And that's only if she doesn't rope Dean into the trip," retorted the healer. "Just be glad she's allowed us to stay here, rather than dragging us around the store. Besides, it's not like we're making you pay for yourself."

An exhausted sigh came from the other stall. "It'd be a thousand times worse if we were actually at one of the Boardwalk shops like we'd planned, instead of the department store. Five times more expensive and we'd have to follow her around. I wouldn't have even suggested it if it weren't for Carol's text."

Pulling a garment out of the armload Vicky had shoved at me, I groaned. "Seriously? A sundress? It's winter! Why is this even in stock right now?"

Amy laughed, a surprisingly warm sound to it in spite of all the stress she held. "That's Vicky for you. She can and will find the oddest things when shopping, even if there is no reason for it to be there. Sundresses in January is actually fairly tame by her standards."

"Still! Sundress. Winter. Even if it's there, why grab it?" I asked. "Or is this some kind of joke?" I hoped not. Being the butt a joke from an actual hero was the last thing my self-esteem needed, even if I was planning on ditching Bet as soon as I could manage to survive on Tǩóymos.

"She probably thought it'd look good on you and failed to consider the weather. She does that at times, even though her powers don't actually protect her from the cold," came the reply, followed by the rustling of fabric. "Then again, she was pretty weather tolerant even before, so it could well just be quirk of hers. Anyway, if you don't like something she picked out, just put it aside and stick with what you're most comfortable with. Vicky means well, but requires a firm hand to keep her from using people as dress-up dolls."

Letting out a sigh, I began digging through the array of clothes again, in search of something somewhat acceptable in the mass of overpriced fabric. Warm weather items would be nice, but with my companions not being aware of my housing it'd be a poor decision to get any. Mild as Brockton Bay winters were, it was still New England and not a tropical paradise. Undershirts might be manageable though, especially if they were the athletic variety, as those could be taken as part of layering against the cold. Getting things that were tighter fitting probably wouldn't be too much of an issue, for the same reason. Practical, even if not to my normal taste.

I shifted a little. Might need more underwear too, as walking around with a wet-

"If you were in better circumstances, I'd suggest grabbing a pair or two of heels."

The non-sequitur from Amy utterly derailed my train of thought.

"Um, what?" I squeaked. "Heels? But… why?"

"Because they'd emphasize your legs Taylor," the other girl replied, a grin evident in her voice. "You've got nice legs and I've heard that being able to show off can improve self-confidence."

Oh Winds, was she flirting with me? Why was a hero flirting with me? I'm a villain with the figure of a plank and a too wide mouth, not an Amazon or model or whatever heroes are supposed to hook up with. And on top of that, we'd only just met! What flipped her from the bitter healer to… this?

"Taylor?"

No, it had to be a trick or her fucking with my head. There was no way anyone would be actually complementing me about anything without there being a barb hidden somewhere. Coming to Bet out of costume was a bad idea. Hausōs might be able to recruit people, but Taylor Hebert was too pathetic even for her fucked-up excuse for a father to care about. I should just slip out and-

"Taylor!"

The sharp mixture of concern and fear in Amy's voice cut through my whirling thoughts like a knife.

"I'm sorry if I hit a nerve, but please say something! Don't just shut down and go time bomb on me. I really, really, don't want to have to heal anyone up right now. Especially not with how many problems you going off out of costume would cause both of us."

Taking several slow, deep, breaths, I choked out a response. "Sorry about that. I… haven't had any positive interactions with people my age in a long time. This… it's too much, too soon, and too different for me to handle…"

"So you're a fucked up pile of trauma," stated the healer. "Welcome to the parahuman club. We have zero benefits, the hours are utter trash, and only the Protectorate actually have steady pay."

A moment later, Amy's hand emerged from under the stall divider.

"If you make skin contact, I can help calm you down. You'd be surprised at how much can be done by messing with the endocrine system and is technically healing."

Sucking yet another deep breath, I all but collapsed to the floor and took the other girl's hand. Choking back a sob, I gasped out "Why are you being so nice to me? I'm nothing and a nobody, not worth your time or money…"

"Because I am a selfish bitch who's enjoying the presence of someone that treats me like a fellow human being instead of a video game medkit or a celebrity," came the blunt reply. "Do you have any idea how it feels to be treated as nothing more than a power interface?"

I did. Oh, how I did.

"Also," Amy added, "You have a tropical hideout somewhere isolated. That yeast infection was a rather exotic giveaway."

My heart skipped a beat. One of my most important secrets, found by touch. If the microbes of Tǩóymos were that distinctive, then Armsmaster or Kid Win could whip up some tinkery bioscanner and then I'm screwed…

"None of that," the healer chided as the emerging panic vanished. "We all have secrets. Yours is that you have a safe haven, mine is that I'm not sure how much longer I can keep going before I break."

Her hand squeezed mine. "Not going to go into specifics, just like I'm not digging into your powers, but I am so much more than 'just' a healer and the weight of what I can do is wearing on me as much as the hours I put in at the hospital and the pressures of being in New Wave. So, if it's not too much of an imposition by someone you just met, could you make a place for me to bug out to when I inevitably reach a tipping point?"

I couldn't help it. I slumped against the divider, giggling as I squeezed her hand back. "Of course I'll make room for you. Things aren't great, and you'll probably need to still do some healing on occasion, but it's all I can do to repay you for helping me."

A soft laugh came from the other stall. "Thank you. It's nice to know there's someone to pull me out before I can become a monster, so I would say we're even if you want to keep track."

Before either of us could say more, Glory Girl's aura washed over us, sending us scrabbling to stand before the older girl arrived. Clearly neither of us wanted her to jump to any conclusions about what happened, or, worse, start prying. As much as having Vicky's strength and flight would be useful to me, what I'd seen of her so far was leaving a lot to be desired. The blonde was proving to be a brainy airhead, as contradictory as that was, and the effects of her shaker power were decidedly suboptimal. That she seemed to have no off switch for it was worse. Who knew what kind of consequences long-term exposure to that kind of power had, even if it wasn't a Master influence. Best avoid.

"I come bearing cute skirts!" declared the heroine as she entered the changing area.

Groaning, I called back "It's January Odysseus. We need pants or legging for warmth, and I especially need practical clothing. Go and find us seasonally appropriate ware." Draping the most objectionable garments over the door, I then added "And take the dresses with you!"

"Um, what?" I could almost hear the gears in the older girl's head locking as my words broke her shopping buzz.

"It's a classical reference Vicky," I stated, rolling my eyes. "The Aeneid's 'beware Greeks bearing gifts' regarding the wooden horse Odysseus came up with. Just with you and clothes." Now it might just be because I'm a Lit Prof's daughter, but I'd thought that that connection at least had made it into pop culture. Ah well, not like it really matters much.

A sigh came from outside the stall. "Fine, fine. Rain on my parade with weird literary references. It's not like you can have fun trying out new styles or anything…"

"You and Eric are the only people I know who shop for pleasure over all else," Amy replied from her own stall. "And do I need to remind you that we're here with a list instead of on our own time?" Then, muttering in a way that I probably wouldn't have even noticed if not for my powers, added "How did I ever fall for you…?"

Well, that wasn't good. Still, at least they aren't blood siblings, right? At least I'm pretty sure that I was remembering that phenotype stuff properly. Blonde being recessive and Amy's the only brunette in her family. Anyway, having a crush on someone she considers family probably wasn't helping her mental state.

Maaaybe I should try talking the girl into joining me sooner instead of later, as there didn't seem to be much left of her idiomatic rope…

***

"Free at least!" I cried as we finally exited the department store. That had a much more painful experience than I'd been expect, especially after the dressing room exchange. How the Dallon family missed this situation developing, I had no idea.

Amy, meanwhile, just rolled her eyes. "That was a positively laid-back shopping trip by Vicky's standards. I keep telling you that, and it doesn't seem to stick."

"You're just used to it," I grumbled in retort. "I get wanting to check up on new products and the like, but she spent five minutes comparing two identical dresses. You guys can't possibly have that kind of time to spare for this trip, can you?"

Letting out a sigh, I hefted the two large bags Vicky passed me at the check-out with a slight, and exaggerated, grunt. "Well, anyways, thanks for getting me these, but I need to get going now. Supplies to check, shelter to improve-"

"You're having lunch with us."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Amy cut me off with a glare, clearly in full healer mode. "You've been malnourished for a month Taylor, been healed, and I know you haven't eaten yet today. So, you're eating with us before your blood sugar levels crash."

I wasn't that bad off, was I? Between my scrounging and Cauldron's providence I should still be just undernourished right?

A surprisingly strong hand wrapped around my wrist. "Come on, there's a decent all-you-can-eat place near here, and you're going to keep at it until I say otherwise."

Vicky, who had been hanging back silently util that point, then chined in. "You know Ames, you normally aren't so… uh, hands on? With people you heal, so what's special here?"

The brunette shot her sister a look. "Most of my patients," she practically drawled, "aren't in a position where I can bully them into not getting hospitalized. I have the opportunity, so I'm taking it."

And certainly a hefty dose of enlighten self-interest as well. Not that I expected her to mention that at this point of course, as the girl had proved to be remarkably similar to myself, at least so far. Seriously, what the hell was going on in New Wave?

You know what? I'm not sure I actually cared. Whatever it was, it'd gotten me the nearest thing to a friend since Emma, and one I was pretty sure wasn't likely to betray me given her own lack of friends.

With that in mind, I followed the brunette's lead and began walking down the street with a bemused looking Glory Girl trailing in our wake. As much as I found Amy's statement about my health-status hard to grasp, a big and proper meal sounded great, especially with how much work I had to do. If she was planning what I thought she might, then I might just return to Tǩóymos with fat reserves, which I'd definitely been running low on.

Of course, as with many things, my enthusiasm began faltering when the healer dragged me into a somewhat glitzy-looking restaurant called the Rowan Grove. It wasn't actually a bad place from what I'd heard, but rather one of the 'healthy fast food' operations that kept popping up whenever some rich guy saw an article about obesity, and this one was connected to either the Stansfields or the Anders. Probably the former, if the shift in Vicky's aura was anything to go by, as she was dating the heir.

I flinched as we entered the building, the smells from the kitchen assailing my enhanced nose like a wave. Health food? Try high blood pressure and liver damage if the overpowering scents of salt and iron were anything to go by. I really hoped they had actual food here, not just overprocessed meat 'substitutes' and fad veggies, or I'd leave regardless of what Amy said. Medical expert or not, I was not eating whatever abused plant matter they thought was food.

Vicky promptly peeled off towards the counter while Amy shoved me into a booth before making a bee-line for the buffet table. Slumping back in my seat, I felt the weight of events settle again. Never in a million years would I, even a week ago, have believed that I'd have a day like this. Not even when Emma and I had fantasized about getting powers and joining the Wards had I expected to have… mundane experiences with heroes. Being a villain just made it flat-out surreal.

I blinked, then started giggling. I was a villain, and I was working on building a village. Merciful Kyne, I'd made the term come full circle, bringing it back to being 'villager'. And I was totally going to use that when someone, preferably that narrow-minded bitch Brandish, calls me a villain. Etymology was so going to become as much a part of my schtick as ripping into the broken mess that people keep calling a social support system and needling Emma. Oh Winds this would be fun…

Returning my focus to the wider world, I caught sight of Amy carrying a plate loaded with… Huh. Baked cod, loaded potatoes, and liver? That'd actually be good, even if I wasn't particularly fond of liver. Plenty of nutrition there, and in forms I was honestly surprised to see in a place like this. The liver especially was more of a high-end restaurant dish than fast-food standard quick-and-cheap. Whatever, organ meat. So many useful things for a body, to the point that Arctic peoples could live entirely off of hunted animals without even a dite of edible greenery. Not that I'd be doing so myself, not if I could avoid it, but better to get used to eating it as that was rather normal in premodern life. Because good nutrition isn't to be passed on.

Anyway, to say that when my new benefactor set the plate in front of me, I fell on it like a starved wolf would be an exaggeration. I just barely managed to retain a semblance of table manners. Somehow.

What can I say? Spam and mixed fruit get old real fast, and I knew I hadn't been eating well for a month by this point.

So focused was I on getting the meal in that I almost missed Amy sitting down next to me and slipping a hand onto my neck. Almost. I half-choked on a buttery bacon spud before my throat shifted to maintain proper flow of food. Giving the healer a quick side-eye glare, I slowed my pace slightly to let her work her magic on my digestive tract and metabolism so I could make better use of the opportunity she'd given me. Winds, I missed having friends… Even if she was barely more than a casual acquaintance at this point.

As I finished off my pile of delicious people-fuel, Vicky settled on the bench opposite me with a plate of her own and, unsettlingly, a wide and loaded smile. My eyes narrowed. She wasn't…

"So," the blonde grinned, "why didn't you tell me you were into girls Ames? I'm sure I could've found you a leggy brunette…" And she was fucking wiggling her eyebrows.

The glare I leveled at the older girl probably paled in comparison to the one on Amy's face, though the healer's wasn't helped at all by the massive blush she was sporting. Like, I could almost feel the heat coming off her cheeks with how red she was.

Oh Winds, she was genuinely flirting with me earlier. I… really didn't know how to feel about that.

"I have no idea what you mean Vicky," she replied in a tone that wouldn't fool a stoned Merchant. So it rather obviously failed on her fully sober and apparently shipping-crazed sister.

"Yeah, and I speak Klingon. You kept checking out our new friend's butt and legs whenever you had a good view."

Why did Amy have to be blocking my way out of the booth? If she wasn't, I'd be able to escape this on the basis of getting more food…

***

A low groan escaped my throat as I trudged into my warehouse, laden with my shopping bags from earlier. That lunch had to have been the most awkward meal I'd ever had. Two long hours of alternating stomach stuffing by Amy and being mercilessly grilled about my preferences by the evilest villain in Brockton Bay. Well, second most evil. Vicky was still behind the Nazis of the Empire, as hostis humani generis are sort of automatically the worst.

Still, I'd come out of the experience with a new sort-of friend, quite a few useful supplies, and a belly fuller than it'd ever been, so it wasn't all bad. But I'd definitely be flagging the New Wave Alexandria Package as 'to be avoided if possible' because I was not interested in romance right now, and the blasted girl just would not take that for an answer.

Stupid meddling do-gooder heroes…

Grumbling under my breath, I climbed the stairs up to the old office to collect my stashed supplies from their hiding places. And promptly froze at the sight of a Cauldron portal snapping shut in the middle of the room. What were They up to this time?

Great. Now I'm sounding like fucking Void Cowboy. Thinking about a 'They' with a capital T and whatnot. Of course, I was dealing with an actual conspiracy of some sort, creating power-granting vials with unknown goals, so make of that what you will and all that. Still not a good sign though.

Sighing, I lifted one of the boxes I'd used to conceal my food from prying eyes and blinked. There on top of my spam tins was a small paperboard carton, with a vivid yellow band and a verdant background.

"Yorkshire Gold? I don't believe I ever told them I like tea, and even if I had, I'd have expected Earl Grey and not a brand I've never tried. Does anyone here even carry Yorkshire Tea? Isn't it a British brand?"

Eh, tea is tea. I'd still drink it even if it wasn't one I preferred…

"Shit, now I'm going to need to steal a kettle, teapot, and mug aren't I? Dammit Contessa!"

Shoving the tea into one of my bags along with the food, I hurriedly gathered up the other stashes and triggered my anchor. Hopefully the weather on Tǩóymos had improved since this morning, because I really didn't want to spend anymore time on Bet today…

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 7, 2011.

A light mist was not really all that great, but it sure beat the frigid air of Brockton Bay, and was a far cry from the rain and oppressive humidity of this morning, so I wasn't going to complain. Setting down my collection of bags, I pulled out a pair of athletics shorts and a sports bra I'd acquired thanks to the Dallon sisters and quickly changed into them. Ah, breathable clothes…

Briefly reveling in the near-luxury of good and climate-appropriate clothing, I turned my attention to the crude but solid shelter/storehouse that'd been built yesterday. Thatched fronds wouldn't last for more than a few months, not with the methods I'd used, and the powerful tropical storms that hit regions like this. That sort of shoddy work wasn't something I liked, but as a temporary structure it'd do. No point in constructing something that could survive years or decades when it'd be torn down to make way for another, even more resilient, structure well before then.

Hm, I was going to be using Roman concrete for my primary structural material. While much of my aesthetic so far was rather a bit before their time, the Romans had a fair bit of experience building in hot, earthquake prone, areas and had some really nice-looking houses. Modeling my own work on theirs would make for a pleasant urban environment in my settlement. I'd need a good whitewash, preferably something enamel-like, to help protect the concrete and keep things cool, and maybe incorporate some Japanese elements into the architecture for flavor and additional durability…

Shaking my head, I started stowing my things inside the low-slung building. Woolgathering on how I'd design my capital could wait until I was secure enough to do it properly.

Once everything was properly put away, I stepped back out and set my drones on new tasks. One to check the near bank for suitability for terrace farming, and the other two for a wide-ranging general survey. Waypoints were set for the volcano on the western horizon and the mountains on the northern one, both being points of notable concern. With my site's elevation, flooding from monsoon rain on the slopes shouldn't be a problem, but that really depended on the geography of the Alexandria's valley. The volcano, however, was a more pressing issue to examine. It looked to be a fairly typical basaltic shield from what little I could see, but it could also easily be a low-profile stratovolcano and thus pose the possibility of turning my base into Pompeii if it were to go Krakatoa or Mt. St. Helens on me.

Probably should have checked on that earlier, but better to get that done before I got much further, as having to relocate again now, while a pain, would be easier than if I was more established. And having to start all over again would be a bitch if the worst happened. Assuming I survived that is. Which was probably a good bet, thinking about it. Cauldron was almost certainly monitoring me in some way, given the portal the first day, and likely wouldn't let me die to an eruption.

I didn't want to count on that though, especially since I'd owe them, one way or another.

Pushing that line of thought, along with a slight shudder at the idea of being watched, aside, I began making my way down towards the isthmus connecting to the bank. Giving those hot springs a look, then sourcing some flexible vines for lashing was the agenda for the moment. Though boat-building would have to come before a relaxing soak, if the latter turned out to be available.

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 8, 2011.

Groaning softly, I clambered off the thick bed of leaves I'd tossed together the night before. Hitting a sporting goods store was definitely up there on my priories list, right alongside a hardware place. Having the sleeping bag I'd been bought yesterday helped, but foliage made for a terrible mattress when you were sore all over from building a large raft, and I hadn't had the chance to actually use the hot springs. Not that one of those thin foam pads would much better, but a few of them stacked on top of each other would be superior to dealing with the fragility of an air mattress.

Digging out a tin of spam and a couple of fruit cans, I sat down to eat, grabbing my helmet while doing so. Detaching the lower face plate, I slipped the rest of the device on and started reviewing the drone data while prying the chunk of spiced meat out of its container.

First was the farming suitability survey, which was showing sufficiently stable soil that I could comfortably terrace the back for farming. And that the land above the bank could be cultivated safely too, even if I were to clear-cut parts of it. Good, I'd have plenty of agricultural space then, meaning that I had the potential to support a meaningful population and even have a surplus of food.

Next was the as-yet unfinished report form the drone tasked with the volcano. This also contained good news, at least so far. The still nameless mountain was a fair bit farther away than I'd initially thought, being over eighty miles distant, and was steeper than typical shield volcano that, while certainly more explosive than I was entirely pleased about, was going to be safe for the foreseeable future. Barring any geological oddities that weren't found on Bet that is.

The survey of the Alexandria, however, merited a raised eyebrow. Rather than a meandering path marked with oxbow lakes, or a fairly simple course, the river flowed through a large lake approximately ten miles inland, hidden from my view by the planet's curvature and a high ridge line. A ridge line that had the telltale signs of being a crater rim.

I frowned at that, taking a sip of fruit juice as I studied the geography. If the river passed through it, rather than around, then it was probably an ancient impact crater. But I'd need more information to rule out it being a caldera. If it were, it'd pose a hazard to the entire region, and I'd have to ask a favor of Cauldron to relocate to a different continent to be out of the blast zone.

Zooming in on an outcrop on the rim, I let out a sigh of relief. My brief concern wasn't warranted. Eroded and plant-encrusted as it was, the rock bore the signs of having been bent and rolled back over itself, decisive evidence of it being an impact event thousands of years ago. Devastating, but not something that would be an issue in the future. Probably even was the source of at least some of the iron sand deposits in the area.

Setting aside the now empty cans, I stood and started gathering my caping equipment, issuing a recall order to the drones as I did so. The volcano's threat was, at this point, negligible and the lake mitigated any flooding hazard enough that mapping the river could be put off for a while. Probably whenever I ended up needing a hydroelectric dam or something.

I paused. Could I build something that large on my own? Then had to quickly shove down that train of thought before the urge to start sketching in the dirt got too strong. Now was not the time to work out how to make a dam building machine. There was a raid to plot and execute.

***

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 8, 2011.

"Alright people! Here's the drill, you all go about your business and I go about mine. That happens, and all this will be is an interesting story to talk about around the water cooler, or whatever it is you do. I'm not the kind of villain who gets off on hurting people, and I'd very rather avoid doing so. Anyone have a problem with that?" I looked at the three customers and singular employee at the Ace Hardware with a critical eye. All of them stared at me for a few seconds, before collectively shrugging and returning to what they'd been doing before I'd kicked the doors open.

Excellent. Being seen as harmless was working out so far, even if I hadn't yet entered the public consciousness as being such yet.

Snagging a cart, I began making my way through the store towards the power tools. So many things there could be repurposed in surprising ways, like electric leaf blowers into draft fans for smelters and forges. From there, more basic tools were next, hammers, saws, and more. Anything I could get my hands on that could be made to serve my needs was piled in, and, where possible, shoved into one of several bags I'd found near the back.

Once I'd gathered as much as I could carry short distances, which took surprisingly little time, I turned back to the front. As I passed the checkout, the lone employee started waving at me.

"Miss?" He called. "Do you have a name I can put on the robbery report? It'll help with the insurance people if I can identify the villain in the paperwork beforehand."

I smiled under my helmet. Who knew paperwork would make my life easier? "I'm Hausōs. Spelt with a long 'o' diacritic."

With that said, I slipped out the doors, dashed into an alley just past the delivery bay, and unloaded the cart. Pushing it away, I hauled up my loot and, after a brief struggle, triggered my recall system.

Have at it guys. I'll swing by in the morning to handle replies and crosspost to SB.

Sandy River DL · Feb 23, 2023

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 10, 2011.

A distant boom startled me awake. For several moments, I lay on my new bed blinking sleep from my eyes. Then I groaned and stood. Explosions on a basically uninhabited world needed investigating, especially when you lived in a geologically active area. Even when the sun wasn't up yet and you'd had a long day of channeling your centuries old Viking heritage.

Stumbling out into the predawn gloom, I first looked towards the west, where the nearest fire mountain was. The horizon was clear there, without any trace of activity. Turning south, however, brought a dull orange glow into view. In the distance, barely visible through the mist and only just within my sightline, was the blazing peak of one of the volcanic islands off the coast. A low roar, like an ancient beast of legend – or an angry Lung – rolled over me as a fountain of red burst forth, reaching high into the dark sky.

Well, that could be annoying. And potentially dangerous, if part of the island were to collapse. Still, nothing I could do about it, beyond keeping an eye on it. Hopefully it wouldn't last too long, as I liked being able to sleep.

Letting out another groan, I slipped back into my shelter and grabbed a lantern I'd acquired the day before. Given my forced wakeful state, I might as well sort my ill-gotten gains and get them ready for use.

And make some tea. If I was up, I wanted to be properly up, and tea would ensure that.

Grabbing my new camp stove and a small pot, I then drew several mug-fulls of water from a jug and poured it into the pot. After a little bit of fiddling, I had the stove lit and the water heating, at which point I dug out one of the tea boxes Contessa had left me. It was bagged tea, happily, so I wouldn't have to deal with loose leaves, even if it wouldn't be quite as good.

Snagging the steel mug I'd measured the water with, I carefully placed a tea bag within and filled it again and set it aside to steep. With that done, I pulled a packet of dehydrated eggs out of a pile of goods and emptied it into the remaining hot water. Not great, but it would be nice change from canned food all the time. Stirring the gooey substance with a spoon that'd been with the mug, I leaned back against the bedrock wall with a hum. I'd need to start clearing land for farming soon if I wanted to regain reliable access to proper food any time in the near future.

But not today. Today I was going to take a good long soak in the springs, go for a hike, and revel in the splendor of this beautiful new world of mine.

My eyes stung with salt as I took a bite of my eggs. What had I done to gain such favor from my goddess? A fresh start and the power to make good use of it, for me? I hadn't been particularly devout and it had taken Emma going to Cauldron to make me worth anything, so why…?

Melodious birdsong overcame the distant rumble of the eruption and the scent of fresh-brewed tea filled my noise. Taking the mug, I let out a breath. If what Mom had taught me was right, that was as good a sign as any that the Storm Hawk wanted me to stop moping. Sipping my tea, I pondered the idea.

And then almost coughed out the drink. Yorkshire Gold was apparently not a tea to be drunk straight. Good to know, even if I'd need to figure out what went with it. Honey usually worked. Swallowing, I returned to my musing.

***

"Oh Winds this feels good!" I moaned as I settled into the most human-friendly of the hot springs. The waters were just the right temperature and mineral composition, in just the right shaped basin, to near instantly start soothing my various aches and pains. Sweet merciful Kyne, it was a luxury that beat out the lunch I'd had with the Dallon sisters.

"That settles it, I'm finding somewhere to properly venerate you. No more run-down city parks, this deserves someplace truly great." As soon as the words had left my mouth, a breeze wafted the scent of a near-by cluster of brilliant pink flowers into my nose. I'd take a smell like the taste of peaches as a positive sign.

Another explosion reverberated through the air as the distant eruption continued to rage. I let out a sigh. That was getting on my nerves now, as it was damn near impossible to relax and enjoy the sounds of untamed forest when the stupid mountain kept putting on a fireworks display.

Leaning back against the mineral deposits of the basin, I gazed upwards at the clear blue sky, framed beautifully by the lush green tones of tropical leaves, themselves sprinkled with vibrant blossoms in a riot of different colors. Unlike the aural ambience, this was something not spoiled by the geological upheaval far to the south.

And I had no one to savor it with. Amy was still on Bet, and having a minor religious experience did squat to alleviate the basic human need to companionship. Pack animals like us never did well in isolation, and my contact with friendly people had only made the past year and a half weigh on me more. Tomorrow, I'd see about finding someone who could join me here immediately. Maybe another fresh Trigger, one with nowhere else to go. It was Brockton Bay, after all, and the local Nazi problem meant I could probably find someone, likely Jewish or black.

I really didn't care, so long as they weren't assholes.

***

Emma had her powers by now, didn't she. If Cauldron had kept to their schedule for her, she'd have had taken her vial a couple days ago. The things that come to mind while hiking…

Shaking my head, I pushed through a stand of large ferns and froze. Before me was a cloven hillside, with a narrow passage between the two parts. Quickly deploying the drone I'd brought with me, I sent the device to check ahead, something stirring within me as I did so. This was important, somehow. And it was only about a mile north west of my base too.

Once I had the feed up, I watched intently as the scout hovered through the split terrain, likely sundered by the same quake that had uncovered the coal seam. My eyes then went wide as a turn brought a verdant grotto into view. Moss covered stone sown among bushes and ferns, with the occasional spring at irregular intervals across the football field-sized natural chamber, burbling as they released water onto gravel and cobble. Most importantly however, was the musical thrum of the morning breeze through cracks and fissures in the rock and across the opening that bisected the ceiling that had just become audible.

A smile growing on my lips, I dashed over to the passage and carefully made my way through into the chamber. Humming softly, I took in the unusual natural structure with a thoughtful gaze.

"Yeah, only one thing to call this place," I stated. "Kyne's Rest Grotto."

Speaking of planning ahead, I should probably figure out where my starting farm would be. I wouldn't be clearing it today, but having a spot picked out would mean I could begin the work in the morning, rather than having to spend daylight on prep I could do now without hampering my day off.

Picking up a couple stones, I walked back to the entry point. There I paused for just long enough to stack the red-stained lumps of marble next to the opening before continuing on. That was the nice thing about the Cult of the Storm Hawk, no ceremony and the only ritual was the hunt, just action and contemplation of nature. The mere act of visiting the cave and leaving it unmarred was worship to Kyne.

***

Carefully picking my way through the mangrove-like trees covering the isthmus, I discarded the idea of using it as farmland. At least for the moment, as I could make equipment able to dig out the dense weave of roots in the soil at a later point. Similarly, the mainland bank was a poor choice due to having to navigate the mess. Fortunately there was a much more manageable strip of land at the base of the outcrop's slope suited for a large garden and would do until I at least had a path through the tangle.

Once I'd arrived back at my shelter, I quickly downed a couple of protein bars and a bottle of juice before collecting my water filtering apparatus and a ten-gallon storage barrel. Rain catchers would be more convenient, in the short term at least, but until I could build them or a plumbed purification plant the back country camping system would do.

Now, would I just steal the piping for that project, or wait until I could set up a fabricator to make quartz-lined composite pipes?

Setting up the portable pump and laying the tube in the tank, I made a small shrug. I could do both, stealing enough to rig up a simple water system that'd handle a few people to start with, and then upgrade everything once I had the resources to do so. As long as I laid the groundwork properly, I wouldn't have too much of an issue implementing improved infrastructure. Nodding once, I then took hold of the pump handle and got to work on filling the tank.

To occupy myself through the repetitive task at hand, I pulled up the data logs from my drones and began digging through them for items of interest. At the same time, I also set the drones themselves to scan for select biochemicals that would be useful to have. Like, for example, caffeine. Tea or something similar that could be sourced locally would be a major morale boost, as then I'd have a supply not dependent on finding a place that sold tea shrubs or keep a link to Bet to import it.

Pausing my pumping, I gently flexed my hand. Setting up a powered pump would be a good idea too. In fact, I had everything I needed now to make that hydropower generator I'd been planning on building. But getting that together would wait until the starter farm was seeded. I had quite awhile before any of my tech needed a top-up, and it would only take to get the farm done anyway.

***

Once the water tank was filled, I climbed onto the raft I'd built yesterday and grabbed the long branch that'd serve as a guide pole, then carefully pushed out into the Alexandria. There was a nice-looking beach out near the mouth of the estuary that had a stand of small fruit trees bearing something resembling blood oranges, but with a notable caffeine content in the leaves and fruits. The sand was also of interest, being startling rich in purple and violet amethyst. How that had happened, I hadn't the slightest clue, but it seemed like it'd be rather beautiful to see.

Riverine travel was a wonderful thing and I understood just why so many cultures had grown up around rivers now that I waterborne. Getting to the beach would have taken hours, if not much of the day should the terrain be difficult, if I'd walked, but poling downstream only took somewhere around forty-five minutes. Building the raft was so totally worth the sore muscles and headaches.

Carefully dragging the lashed log construct onto the glittering shore, I couldn't help but marvel at the natural wonder of the purple sand beach. It wasn't a huge one, only a couple hundred feet across, but it was gorgeous. If it weren't for the fact that I wanted to play my off-world basing close to my chest, I'd probably fuck with PHO by posting some pictures of it. Their confusion would be glorious.

But I wouldn't. Doing that would just give away information I didn't want getting out right now. It'd hamper recruitment, but that was fine. Better to start off slow anyways, as that would give time to build up for a growing population.

Walking up the beach to the stand of trees, I double checked the sensor data on the fruits. Nothing was in great enough concentrations to be a concern, chirality issues weren't present, and a number appeared to be fully ripe. I carefully picked several, and then stopped.

"Probably better to wait until I'm back at base," I noted. "Best to try the local foodstuffs somewhere I can more easily handle any digestive issues."

Hopefully there wasn't any allergens or disruptive microbes in the things. That could be… less than pleasant.

Giving another look around, I turned back to where my raft sat. The beach was interesting, but really the only appeal currently was the novelty of amethyst sand and the fruits I'd just collected a sample of. Carefully pushing the wooden platform back into the water, I climbed on and, setting the small collection of fruit down, began poling my way back upriver.

***

Once the raft was secured on the shore, I made my way up to my shelter with my sampling of local produce and, after checking on the drones, split a fruit open. A sweet, tangy scent not dissimilar to orange wafted from the juicy interior, bringing a small smile to my lips. I… kind of missed orange juice, now that I thought about it. If this turned out alright, I might have a reasonable replacement. At the very least, it'd be something to fend off scurvy.

Savoring the smell for several moments longer, I finally took a bite of the pulpy contents. It… was honestly sort of disappointing really. Not as sweet as it smelled, fairly tough and chewy with fibrous pulp, and being somewhat light on taste. About what you'd expect from something that had never been cultivated for human enjoyment, honestly. Still, it was something edible and had potential.

The second bite, though, was somewhat better for some reason. Maybe because it was because I knew what to expect? Eh, it didn't really matter, that just meant I could finish the one I'd started and possibly not waste the others.

Ooooh! Maybe Amy'd like to try one! I could kit up and bring some over to Bet for her!

A giggle escaped as I finished off the fruit in my hand, leaving me with the pit. I tossed that and changed into my caping gear, grabbed my drones, and triggered the recall system after picking up the other three fruits.

***

Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 10, 2011.

"Heeeey…~ You wanna try one of these? They're great~"

The girl in front of me was not Amy. But she looked down, and a freckled brunette in need of a mood boost was a freckled brunette in need of a mood boost.

Why was she looking at me weird?

"Yeah, I'm not eating probably biotinkered fruit, especially if that's what you're high on," she said.

High? Nah… I don't do drugs… It's just an engery drink in an orange.

"Not high or on drugs? Girl, have you looked at yourself? Or noticed that you're slurring?"

Oh, did I say that out loud? Oops.

"Look, I might be wanting to find a team and get off the streets, but I'm not joining up with the Merchants to do so. So please leave me alone."

"Merchants? They don't have an amethyst beach or caffeinated oranges, but I do! I got better base too, better than any-un else in the Bay! And you're a cape? I could use some capes other than me!"

I then jumped back as the girl spat a glob of napalm at my feet.

"Well, that was rude!" It really was! I only had the one pair of boots that worked with my outfit.

"Yes, trying to set others on fire is rather impolite."

I spun around to face the new voice that had just spoken. There, standing on the street corner, was a Nazi. SS uniform and all.

"Oh fuck off Nazi. Go back to your Argentinian retirement home before someone realizes you wandered off. I was trying to have an honest conversation with a cute pyro." Nodding to myself, I turned back toward the girl, only to have the pavement beneath me lift into the air.

Right, this was Brockton Bay. There were Nazis here that weren't decrepit old relics leftover from World War Two… And they had superpowers. How did I go forgetting that?

"Careful with her Rune," SS Gasmask said. "Kaiser wants her on-board. Don't scare her off."

My lips twitched under my mask. A giggle slipped free, slowly morphing into a bout of manic laughter that had me doubling over and almost falling off the piece of sidewalk.

"Me? Joining up with you? You're Nazis, moron, and that means peace was never an option!" My face hurt, and so did my ribs. Why was that funny again?

Sliding off the block of concrete, I drew my knife. "Now go fuck off and die in a stupid fight you have no chance of winning like good little enemies of our species."

Ugh, I was getting hungry and the fruits weren't particularly filling. Also, my head was starting to hurt. Weird.

Another blob of napalm shot past me, splattering on the sidewalk in front of SS Guy, forcing him back as his stupid grey cosplay costume was showed in droplets of burning liquid. Then the slab next to me shot back and shattered against a building as a shout of surprise came from behind me.

Glancing around, I almost immediately spotted a floating sheet of scrap metal above and to my left. Just visible over the edge of it was a hooded figure seemingly looking past me. One of the fruits was promptly hurled at what was probably Rune, impacting the apparently distracted Nazi's head with a satisfying 'spla-thunk' sound.

And then the evening was lit by a cold light that seemed to make the winter chill worse. From around the corner of the next block came two new capes, one clad in silver power armor and the other in a blue-and-gold high fantasy warrior-princess dress. The latter caught my immediate and full attention.

"Well, now isn't it my lucky day! Government dogs to go with the fascist pigs butting in on me trying to help my fellow travelers," I drawled, eyes fixed on the redheaded girl I'd recognize anywhere. "And I see you've managed to duck below even my low expectations by picking up a traitorous backstabbing bitch! Partnered with Shiny Boy the 'dashing knight' too! Trying to capture the fantasy romance energy, or just copying the Assault and Battery dynamic?"

Emma's mouth opened, but Gallant beat her to the punch. "Look, Hausōs, whatever your problems are, the Wards exist to help young parahumans resolve them and settle into their powers. And I'm sure we can work out any issues you think you have with Zenith-"

"The psychotic bitch is why I have powers in the first place, dumbass," I snapped, cutting the hero off. "If it weren't for her, I'd have had people to go to. So no, you can't just 'work out' her having destroyed my li-"

Ow. I moaned softly as I suddenly found myself on the ground, brigandine smoking slightly. A flash of that cold light had hit me square in the chest. Of course Emma would attack me if I started trying to expose her like that, so why did I do that? Then a pair of hands slipped under my shoulders and lifted. Oh, the pyro girl was still here. I carefully put my feet under me again, with the other girl's help.

"Kyne's Breath, you really are a cop Red," I groaned. I think I might have a cracked rib. "Or at least you've got the brutality down pat."

"Don't you think we'd be better off getting out of here, not pissing off the trigger-happy Blaster further?" asked the pyro girl. Really need to get her name. Cape or otherwise.

"Good idea. And can I try my pitch again? I think I did wrong…" In fact, I'm not sure I even made an actual pitch at all. Was I even trying to recruit her?

Stumbling a little, I glanced at the girl. There was something familiar about her that I couldn't put a finger on, like I'd met her before. But that might be because she, like Amy, had lots of freckles and disheveled brown hair, though hers was almost as curly as mine. Yeah, it wasn't the best basis for recruiting, but between that feeling and the fact that she was apparently homeless too, I couldn't just leave her.

Oh, the Nazis seemed to have fled too, while the two Wards were arguing over whatever comms they had. We were in the clear for the moment.

"Let me think about it," she replied. "But I'm not doing drugs, at all."

Walking quickly, we slipped off into the rundown mall nearby. As Pyro Girl was quiet, I occupied myself with the drone feeds, keeping an eye out for tails either Wards or Empire. As awkward as trekking with someone who was deciding if they wanted to be around you was, especially after my earlier experience – awkward as it itself was – with the Dallon sisters, it was still nice to be with someone who was actually considering being involved with what I was doing of their own choice. Amy wanting to join as an escape route didn't count, as much as I'd enjoyed the girl's company.

"Were you serious about having the best base?"

I turned to look at the girl next to me. "Yeah? I mean, it's currently a large shack little better than a lean-to, but the location's great and I've got plans to build something really nice as soon as I get the prep work done."

"And you said something about an amethyst beach?"

"Yeah, it's where I got those fruits." What had happened to the rest of them anyway?

"Right, staying away from that then, no matter how gorgeous that sounds. Any particular cause or goal?"

"Um, building a new life out of reach of this dying hellhole of a world and any known government? That's about all I've got."

Pyro stopped walking, and turned to stare at me. "You're based off a virgin Earth?! I was thinking you'd made a teleporter to some out of the way place in the Caribbean or something, not found a way to match Haywire!"

A wide grin grew on her face and she suddenly grabbed me into a hug. "I'm in! It doesn't matter if I have help build it, a new world without all the bullshit and bigotry it way too good to pass up."

Thank Kyne I'd decided to write a recall command for my drones earlier, because my arms were pinned. Also, on a different note, my cheeks felt like they were on fire.

A few moments later, the flying scanners alighted on the both of us, eliciting a surprised squeak from the girl who was still squashing me.

"Brace yourself," I said, almost gasping. "I'm not quite sure how others feel when I use this, but it's a bit of a jolt." Then, not giving time to respond, I activated the recall anchor.

***

Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 11, 2011.

A distant boom startled me awake. For several moments, I lay on my bed, wondering why this felt familiar. Though the weighted body pillow pressed against me was new.

Then it struck me that one, I was still wearing my armor, and two, the body pillow was a body, not a pillow. And the body was someone I… not knew, but had seen somewhat regularly.

She was stirring too, probably because of the stupid volcano.

"Morning Emily. I must say, I wasn't expecting to recruit someone from Winslow," I said once she'd opened her eyes. The start was rather amusing, as was the massive blush that bloomed on her densely freckled face. Cute too, really.

Quickly rolling off of me, the older girl hastily put a less intimate distance between us before replying "And I honestly wouldn't have believed I'd be picked up by the designated targets Taylor. Or that I'd ever be woken up by a volcano," she paused, a concerned look appearing on her face. "Is that something we're needing to worry about? You didn't mention it last night…"

Groaning, I started removing my brigandine as I responded. "Nah, it's almost a hundred miles away. Dumb thing's just loud, nothing more than maybe a bit of ashfall if the wind's blowing the right way."

I then grimaced. It was humid today. Emily's blush, which had been slowly fading, came back in full force as I started changing. I just rolled my eyes. It's not like I was much to look at, even if one was into thin girls.

That I'd somehow wound up snagging two freckled brunette lesbians who didn't seem to agree was… odd. Eh, whatever.

"So," I said, both to distract from any stray trains of thought and to get things going. "Breakfast needs to be made, then we'll start clearing land for a small farm with the goal of having seeds in the ground by nightfall. I'm not sure how long that will take though, so if we have time, it'd be best to pop back to Bet for a quick food raid."

I gave a small shrug, then added "I hadn't been expecting to have anyone else this soon when I made my last run, so only grabbed enough to last me a couple weeks, and I guess, based on yesterday, that I need to take a closer look at the local plants before I can call them edible."

"Yes, food that gets you high isn't exactly a great idea," Emily snorted. "Since you're the boss here, I'll cook."

She then opened up the camp stove next to her and started gathering various packages from the store pile.

***

I smiled as flames washed across the brush covering the lowest terrace of the acropolis, Emily having taken one look at the vegetation and declared that burning it all would be easier than tearing it out. Taking a sip of tea, carefully laced with some of my limited supply of honey, I started sorting seed packets over a crude dirt sketch of the plots. Planting would be organized by light and water requirements, as well as by priority. The terrace, at about two-thirds of an acre, was large enough that it could supply maybe a quarter of out needs. Not great, but it was a start and could provide seasoning herbs once we had the primary fields on the mainland going.

I gave the dense forest an evaluating look. Maybe I could figure out how to cultivate within it, instead of clear-cutting – or clear burning, as the case may be – it. Some deforestation would be needed, both for lumber and space for less shade tolerant crops, but a managed ecosystem would be far healthier and more enjoyable than monoculture fields. Easier too, as there'd be less tearing up stumps and roots to do.

Softly humming a nameless tune I'd heard from Mom countless times, I vectored one of my drones into the trees with instructions to do a general scan. Sorting out what could be used and what couldn't would be helpful in taming the jungle into a reliable food supply.

A second was sent back to Amethyst Beach to get a more detailed look at the not-oranges, as I really wanted to find out just how I'd gotten high off eating them. The caffeine and Vitamin C in them made me reluctant to write them off if I could help it, but given the effect of eating just one? Whatever was in those things was strong enough that it wouldn't be worth putting aside the intoxicating nature for the sake of nutrition and wakefulness. Especially since I should be able to find other sources of both, so long as whatever it was wasn't a common compound on this world.

My final drone, I sent up as high as I could reasonably get it, to observe the weather. It wasn't a substitute for a constellation of satellites, or network of ground stations, but it'd give enough warning of a tsunami or storm for us to get to safety. I'd have to make a dedicated system once I'd gotten what I needed for that from Cauldron and Toybox. Which meant getting power up.

I glanced over the smoking ruin of foliage that had been the lower terrace. We could do that tomorrow, as I doubted we could finish this job before it would be too late in the day for anything but a quick raid or, if the ground wasn't cooperative, a nice soak in the hot spring.

Emily's face would probably catch fire if we did that…

Maybe I should try and talk Amy into bailing on New Wave quickly, then get both of them into the springs. A nice spa session would do the healer's stress levels good, and provide me with some… what am I even thinking here? Bad Taylor, no plotting to fluster your lesbians for entertainment.

Kyne save me from hormonal teenage girls, myself included.

Very deliberately redirecting my train of thought, I stood and made my way down to where Emily was immolating a stubborn shrub.

"Think you're almost done?" I asked, scanning the ashes and charcoal that would have to be cleaned up. Probably by way of mixing into the soil as fertilizer. "I've got the seeds ready, and all that's needed after that is to bring the tools down and actually get started."

Pillowsperky · Feb 27, 2023

Omake: The Beachsiders

"You know, I think this the most focused I've ever seen Alec" Brian's voice rumbled into Emily's ear like an unexpected but pleasant warm breeze,

pushing a tiny shiver through her form before she settled then glanced back to where he stood with the faintest of relaxed smiles on a stress-lined face, gaze laxly turned toward a scene some dozen yards away on stunningly sparkling amethyst sand. Emily shifted a little on her seat to take in the same sight with a fresh appreciation, having mostly been sea-gazing before.

Lisa lay out on a towel across the glittering sand those dozen yards distant with a mojito in one hand, other arm slid through her silky mass of blonde hair

to cradle a half-dozing head while mirrored goggle-shades hid lidded eyes that watched the sky with perfect contentment. The formerly forced villain seemed entirely placid as she basked, enabling Alec's shenanigans with barely a twitch of thought.

Alec in contrast was indeed focused on task, both he and Aisha conspiring like twin goblins as they sorted shades of purple sand into loose swathes of hue

across a shared white blanket, probably stolen from some unnamable store in the mall. Bands of mauve were culled out of navy tones and rich royal brightness, Aisha's smirk a match for her conspirator's own as he gently applied a cotton ball of thin lotion to strips of Lisa's leg before dusting over with a makeup brush of sand. Bit by bit the blonde girl's costume was being recreated with glittering gemstone sand, both of the gremlins responsible taking turns to apply their sorted 'paint' while Lisa sipped her drink and let them borrow her 'canvas' in the name of harmless art.

Emily observed their game of paint-the-Lisa for a few long moments before giving Brian a tiny shrug and turning back to stare out at the alien but familiar sea,

trying to make out the dots of Rachel's dog-led marathon on the other side of amethyst beach's long curve. "I think this definitely is the most relaxed I've ever seen Lisa... Maybe Alec's borrowing some of her mojo?" The names still felt a tiny bit foreign to Emily despite their now blossoming friendship, their cape-names twice as familiar despite their collective abandonment of Earth Bet's hangups.

Brian gave a rolling shrug while he came to sit on a small dune's crest near Emily's chosen bask, the former leader's own gaze tracing out to see the same sea

with a faint huff of amusement. "I think he can keep it if he is... I've never seen Lisa this chilled out, and I don't miss the old tension."
The stress lines on his face reasserted themselves for just a passing moment as thoughts rolled back in time to his finding out why Lisa had always seemed so tense around the undersider's own loft, how she'd tremble minutely with suppressed fear at some hidden tone in their former boss's phonecalls. The expression passed quickly enough as hints of shadow-fog emerged around Brian's shoulders for that same moment, one of his hands coming up to massage his forehead before he turned it into a stroke back along to cradle the crown, while the undersider laid back on his claimed mini-dune.
"You feeling relaxed yourself? Taylor working you to the bone still?" Brian asked after a moment of looking across the purple sand to the glittering surf.

Emily let herself just snicker at her friend's teasing tone, wiggling her fingers demonstratively after laying back and wiggling herself back to a more comfortable

horizontal pose. She did think over the question for just a breath's span before answering with a minimum of snark, "not quite to the bone, not since we've started expanding the labour-pool with drones and new refugees..." She found herself unable to generate much sarcasm with so much warmth and relaxation melting in, the pyro-projector almost ironically overheating as she watched the twin artists begin their work up Lisa's belly. A lazy movement of Emily's arm brought her hand to grasp her own drink for sipping, a minty soda-mix wetting her throat and letting it breathe a bit easier. She let the silence run until after another few waves had broken, glancing to see Brian finally fully relaxing onto the sand. "Not needing a drink yourself, or maybe a towel to lie on?"

Brian gave a loose shrug as he pondered his response with one arm behind his head and the other across his cultivated abs, eventually letting pride in suffering

fall away in favour of chuckling as he lifted his ab-hand as if to catch something. "Toss me your spare towel?"

Emily simply snerked as she hooked her sole spare roll before she twisted to catapult it across in a flat arc, not truly aiming and thusly being rewarded with a

thwud as the fabric hit Brian's shoulder and face like a comfy rainbow-striped log, unfurling a bit while it rolled off and the undersider pfeh'd out the purple sand he'd been spray-fed. Emily of course giggled loosely between apologies, her customary tomato-blush returning in humour and embarrassment, one hand on her mouth while her other still held that drink.

"I guess I'm glad I didn't ask for the drinks cooler" Brian snorted out a last bit of grit while he groused with mock irritation, though it soon faded to a snicker with

a smile while he slid the towel under his frame with a little wriggle and lifting maneuver. He laid back again then while Emily sipped her drink and cooled her blush with more sea-gazing, both relaxing teens content there to let silence stretch out in a warm and lazy peace. Meanwhile Lisa became a living statue under the gremlin pair's powders, painted as an amethyst facsimile of her Tattletale self. She made sure to take a selfie with Alec and Aisha before finally surrendering to a sun-soaked sleep.

Across the bay Rachel and Taylor appeared as distant dots surrounded by a swarm of happy hounds, both of them considered lunatics by the collective of

other beachsiders for their twinned dedication to jogging, on a day marked out for rest and relaxation.

As promised long ago.

Sandy River DL · Mar 13, 2023

Cauldron Compound, Jan 3, 2011.

It took all of Emma's self-control not to bounce in her seat and glower. Taylor already had a head start, even if the loser probably needed it just to not fail utterly, and grated on her. She'd spent far too much of the funds she'd painstakingly built up with Sophia's help on this – and still wound-up owing favors – for the power sellers to deviate from the plan without telling her ahead of time. It didn't matter that she was getting started earlier too, she was supposed to get her powers first and yet the cow-eyed weakling had gotten hers hours ago! Being too stupid to stay alive wasn't supposed to be rewarded, dammit!

"Mara? We're ready to administer your vial."

Emma shot the lab coat-clad woman a look. "It's about time!" the redhead all but snapped. "We're already off track, and I want to get my hero career off the ground. Preferably before Taylor manages to get herself killed."

The doctor's lips tightened slightly, before she replied "Your nemesis has settled into her base rather nicely and is no longer at risk. Now, shall we begin?"

"I've been waiting for this for weeks, so let's get this done already."

A look of amusement flickered across the doctor's face, before she produced a long, thin, vial from one of her pockets. "Formula number seven nine four eight dash E. Photonic manipulation Blaster-Shaker of medium potency and good stability, just as agreed. Remember, though, that stable does not mean you will gain your specific desired expression and no refunds are available for unsatisfactory results."

Emma froze under the suddenly intense gaze of the dark-skinned woman. "And under no circumstances does Cauldron allow for the revelation of our involvement in your empowerment. Nor are you to attempt to ascertain whether another cape's powers came from us. Understood?"

The redhead nodded carefully, keenly aware of the sweat now beading on her hairline. "Y-yes, I understand."

***

Brilliant white-gold lights flashed as Emma pelted various targets with concussive blasts formed from the blazing aura surrounding her. It wasn't quite what she'd hoped, but it was likely better in terms of usefulness, even if it wasn't elegant like the one she'd dreamed of since childhood.

"If you're done trying out your power, I can give you your nemesis' ratings."

Sighing, the teen dismissed her power's manifestation and turned to look at the doctor. "Alright, how scary is the worm going to look? Have to look my best after all."

"As effective as your power is in combat, Mara, even a low-level Tinker can work around it given time and resources," the woman huffed. "As I told you when this started, there are no lemon powers here at Cauldron, and the one you picked for Ruth is one she has proven quite suited for. Our analysis pegs her as a Resource type, with a high probability of being multi-threaded too. With this in mind, her coming in at a three rating isn't to be taken at face value, as her powerset leaves her with quite an amount of room to improve and grow. Especially when paired with environmental analysis and intuitive skill."

Typing something into her tablet, the doctor continued, "Your power is set in stone, while you can learn to better utilize it, you are as powerful now as you will ever be. A Tinker like Ruth, though? As she builds more tools, she gains more options and capabilities. Her testing set her as a Tinker 3, with two secondary Thinker powers rated at 2 each, but she also is a Brute 0 as she made armor. Mover 9, because she built a teleportation system. Scout drones give her a Master rating of 2, and a helmet mounted display adds another 3 for Thinker. If you expect to win this, you will need to learn as much as you can about fighting Tinkers. And not just taking lessons, but actively seek out more information on the topic. Failure to counter your nemesis' abilities will mean this will end in an upset."

Emma rolled her eyes. Like she could ever lose to Taylor. And with Sophia at her side? The only question was how hard to push.

***

PRTENE, Brockton Bay, Jan 4, 2011.

Emma wore the wide smirk on her face openly, not bothering to hide her pleasure as she and her father exited the Director's office. She was in the Wards now, and the first steps on her path to glory had been taken. A mere survivor no longer, now she was a predator with claws fit to carry her to the top, and everyone would see just how strong she was.

It would be a very eventful few days for her, but with Winslow closed because the school's boiler had failed, she'd have plenty of time to focus on power testing and getting proper branding for a queen-to-be. Once she had a sufficiently regal name and costume, it'd only be a matter of time before she became the media's darling Ward, especially once she could start beating down the worm. With all the stories they'd been told about the other girl's mother's time with Lustrum, there was no way Taylor wouldn't trying to emulate the Caged villain out of some stupid rose-tinted belief the lunatic was a good person.

Only way it would be better is if the other girl joined the Empire, but she was far too much of an anarchist to do that, nor was she quite that dumb.

Caught up in her plotting, the redhead failed to notice the startled lanky hero who had been conversing with Dauntless in an intersecting hall.

***

PRTENE, Brockton Bay, Jan 5, 2011.

"No. No way in hell." Emma glared at the sketch in front of her, and then at the Branding specialist. "That is way too impractical and it looks like it was designed for a middle schooler!"

The suit-clad man blinked. "Just think of the merch! Magical girl is quite the popular aesthetic these days, and 'Miss Sunstream' would bring in almost as much revenue as Vista!"

Rolling her eyes and glowering, the redhead snapped back "It's nothing but lace and yellow gauze! The skirt is huge and the whole thing is just cumbersome fluff. It's a ridiculous travesty and would get in the way of my powers. Try again."

The man opened his mouth to respond, only to get cut off. "I want something regal. You can make it with visible or concealed armor, it can have a sensible skirt, even some sex appeal if it's tastefully done. And I want a name that isn't more suited to a children's cartoon. I'm a hero, not some… dress-up doll you can slap the latest trends onto." She'd done some small-scale modeling work, and knew exactly how long the 'in' thing lasted.

Shrinking back a little, the bureaucrat sighed and started digging through his small collection of folders. "If merchandizing isn't something you care about, we have a few… more aggressive… ideas. Here," he said, sliding a second sketch over to the teen. It was another dress, but slim-fitting and went down to the mid-thigh, where it transitioned into a series of reinforced strips that continued down to just below the knee. It also featured several pieces of medieval-style armor accentuating the chest, hands, and feet. The dress was marked as being blue, while the armor was to be gold. A sundisk tiara and standard visor finished off the costume, and the bottom-left corner bore the proposed name. Zenith.

Emma smiled. That? That would do quite nicely.

***

"I knew you had it in you!" Sophia called as soon as Emma walked into the Wards common room. "Only question is, is there anything left of whatever morons got at you for me to go after?"

The redhead grinned at her friend, while the other Wards eyes bounced between the two. A small smirk made its way onto Emma's face, as she knew exactly what the tame wolves were thinking. Stalker? Having a friend? As if the coddled brats understood the bond of pack.

"Sorry Soph, I'm a Blaster. Everything's… dealt with." Or would be, once the stupid favors were paid off, but she couldn't say that even if she was willing to admit to having bought her power.

Natural capes apparently normally didn't take hearing that well.

Oh well, it was time to start getting her tendrils into her new team. Who knew, one of the boys might even be worth her attention, once she'd brought them around. Poaching Dean from that self-righteous collateral damage barbie would certainly be amusing…

***

Much to Emma's surprise, there was a Protectorate hero waiting outside the Wards section when she exited. Leaning against the wall opposite the door was the lanky armor-plated form of Legion, who'd joined up around the same time the PRT'd press-ganged Sophia.

"Mind if we talk a moment Zenith?"

Giving the older cape a wary look, the teen replied "I'm not quite sure what business you might have with me, given that I only signed up yesterday…"

"Nothing really Wards related, just some questions about a couple of missing students from your school. We're pretty sure that at least one Trigger event was involved and we're trying to track them down before one of the gangs picks them up." Pushing off the wall, the man gestured at another doorway. "There's a conference room just over there, if you're willing to talk."

Going anywhere with a Master-class cape wasn't generally a good idea, but Legion created copies of himself from surrounding materials and she was a Blaster. So she followed. It wasn't like she knew anything about whatever losers might've cracked.

Settling into a chair, the Protectorate member then pulled off his helmet and leaned back as Emma's eyes widened. Danny Hebert ran a hand through his thinning hair, before he spoke with a sigh. "Have you seen or heard from Taylor at all recently? She disappeared from home at the start of Christmas break and nobody's been able to find out what happened to her. We think it was voluntary, as she seems to have taken all the food with her."

Rubbing his face, the man who had once been like a second father to her gave Emma a pleading look. "Was she at all close to an Emily Jacobs? She hadn't been talking to me much about school before she vanished and she might have run off with our other missing student if they were close."

Well, this was awkward. Her punching bag's father was in the Protectorate. He might be able to recognize the worm, and that would quite likely cause her problems. She'd need to start damage control now.

***

PRTENE, Brockton Bay, Jan 9, 2011.

Emma leaned back in her seat, carefully suppressing a groan. She should've been preparing for her debut, not stuck waiting in a conference room with the rest of the Wards for some briefing about one of her set-piece upper classmen who'd set her parents' car on fire. Her time was important!

Finally the screen secure-linked to the Rig flashed to life, what felt like ages past the supposed start time. Armsmaster's helmeted visage gazed out over the assembled junior capes like a statue for a moment, before the man spoke. "Brockton Bay has seen two fresh Triggers emerge over the past week, one pyrogenic Blaster and one Tinker, the latter of which will be the primary focus of this meeting. The new Tinker, identified yesterday as 'Hausōs', was first encountered by Triumph and Kid Win Wednesday evening in the process of fleeing Bay Goods with an assortment of goods, predominately food."

The Protectorate Leader's face was replaced by an image of a tall figure clad in a studded coat, head covered by a helmet with a vaguely insectile-looking visor and flanked by two crude drones.

"The as-yet unnamed Hausōs, when confronted with an offer of surrender and a soft Wards pitch, proceeded to deliver a brief but heated monologue of a decidedly anti-establishment nature, and anti-PRT in particular before disappearing in a nearby alley. Now, ordinarily we would simply classify her as a villain and give a preliminary threat estimate, but she and others like her require a more delicate touch. During the confrontation, she stated herself to be homeless and her actions in all known appearances support this claim. Capes in such circumstances are difficult to handle, in part as they are near universally abuse victims or mentally ill. This presents a notable PR hurdle, as civilians tend to view law enforcement engaging such individuals as police brutality at the best of times, and enough rather public and destructive Triggers have occurred as a result of ordinary police actions that protocol dictates we handle Hausōs with kids gloves, so to speak."

Several scenes of carnage that looked like they'd been pulled out of war movies began to cycle over the screen, before Armsmaster continued.

"This is not to say you are not to confront her, but your rules of engagement are strictly to deescalate when possible and keep your use of force equal to, or less than, her own. Talk her down if you can, but don't push her. You do not want a Tinker to focus on weaponizing their power, especially if you're target number one, nor do we want her to start running more serious criminal operations or, worse, joining one of the gangs for protection. A criminal Tinker using their powers to survive is far easier to deal with than one who is gearing up for combat, and can be either coxed into the fold in time with offers of support, or be neutralized by covertly covering their needs and allowing them to direct all their focus onto their tinkering."

"Our other new parahuman has yet to appear as a cape, and thus we have little to talk about there beyond keeping an eye out for fires and ensuring you are properly following civilian interaction protocols. If you encounter her, she is currently listed as safe to attempt recruitment. If you have questions that you cannot find an answer to in the system, e-mail Miss Militia."

With that, the screen went blank and Emma groaned. "Kids gloves? Is he joking? This Hausōs girl's a villain, it doesn't matter what her sob story is. We can just smack her down, bring her in and let the courts sort her out, instead of giving her time build herself into an actual threat and join one of the gangs."

From the far end of the table, Vista dropped her head into her hands. "Great," she moaned "We have our own Brandish. Perfect."

Directing a decidedly unimpressed look at her newest team mate, the thirteen year-old then added "With her current rap sheet, Hausōs would be in the Wards within a day of being arrested and your grumpy edgelord friend is bad enough for the rest of us, and she was just a vigilante. A Tinker who'd rather be a villain living on the streets than join us? Are you a masochist?"

Rory coughed into his hand. "Vista, please. I'll handle this," he said with a mildly exasperated tone. "You're new to this Emma, so it's understandable you might not be very familiar with how things are done, especially if you're not very into the cape scene. We greatly prefer villains like Hausōs, who only commit crimes to support themselves, to dedicated villains like Crusader or Squealer. They do far less damage and cause far fewer problems for the average person. So we treat them much the same as humor villains, giving them far more slack than they would otherwise get, allowing them to stay that way and us to focus on the actively dangerous capes like those in the ABB and Empire. In most cases I've read about, they don't even fight if confronted by another cape, just run. While the news and PHO make a big deal about cape fights, a substantial number would rather not risk their lives in what some have described as a live-fire game of cops and robbers. Really the biggest difference between villains like Hausōs and rouges is their personal circumstances, to the point that we actually have a special program for those looking to go legit after they've gotten their feet back under them."

The redhead stared at the Wards Leader. Was he serious? Villains existed for heroes to topple and stomp on, but he was really saying that the small fry who only there for newcomers to cut their teeth on were supposed to be left to their rat work in the hopes that they'd stop being rats? She was beginning to wonder if she'd made the wrong choice in teams. But then, Haven didn't have any local branches and she wasn't about to abandon her future domain just for a less annoying team. Especially since Haven was far too large for her to turn to her own ends.

Maybe she could make use of her ability to task Taylor with criminal acts for their fights to get the PRT to drop the shackles?

***

"What do you mean 'no fights can be scheduled at this time'? I paid for a nemesis and I want to make use of her!" The nerve of Cauldron, telling her how she could do this!

The doctor's sigh came over the phone with a slightly staticky edge to it. "Mara, you chose a Tinker nemesis. And you acknowledged that said choice meant a period for your nemesis to build up. If you had wanted to begin the fights immediately, instead of after a month, you should have chosen a power that does not require a delay. If that is all, I have other business to deal with."

Emma cut the call with a huff, glaring at her phone like it was a member of the Slaughterhouse 9. Or possibly Taylor. Hopefully her post-introduction patrol was eventful, she really needed to blast something or someone.

Alright, anyone who has a PHO post idea can get that sent over by messaging me now.

Contractual Villainy

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Omake: The Beachsiders

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