Devil Trigger (Devil May Cry/Worm AU)

[SkyRig]

Spoiler: Protectorate Classified Report, Part 1 (For Your Eyes Only)

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The document you are currently reading is restricted to Level 5 Protectorate personnel. Should you reveal the contents of this document to outside parties unaffiliated with the Protectorate and PRT, or individuals associated with said organizations but were not given permission from Chief-Director Rebecca Costa-Brown or equally high-level personnel, you will be subject to severe punishments and possible termination from the Protectorate, regardless of whether or not you have been subjected to M/S effects.

The following information relates to the series of events that transpired in Gloucester, Brockton Bay from January 31st​, 2011 to April 4th​, 2012.

On January 31st​, 2011, fifteen-year-old Taylor Hebert, daughter of one Danny Hebert and Annette Hebert, awoke from a month-long comatose state. On January 3rd​, at the start of the new school year at Winslow High School, Taylor Hebert was shoved inside a locker filled with biowaste. Fourteen hours after having no contact from Taylor Hebert, Danny Hebert contacts the Brockton Bay Police Department.

Taylor Hebert was trapped inside for nearly 24 hours and was discovered by law enforcement when Officers Murray Upshur and Miles Ramsey went to Winslow and questioned Principal Amanda Blackwell about Taylor Hebert's disappearance. Amanda Blackwell is noted to have been nervous during this meeting as later investigations revealed that Sophia Hess AKA probationary Ward Shadow Stalker was involved in a year-long bullying campaign against Taylor Hebert. Sophia Hess was also involved with two others; Emma Barnes, daughter of lawyer Alan Barnes and Zoe Barnes and sister to Anna Barnes, and Madison Clements, daughter of Augustine Clements and Markus Clements. Taylor Hebert reported the bullying campaign numerous times to the staff faculty, but little to no help was issued to resolve the problems.

It is likely that Amanda Blackwell was hesitant to reprimand or punish Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes due to one being the daughter of a respected lawyer and associate of one Carol Dallon and the other being a Ward. Winslow received a great deal of funding from the PRT due to Sophia Hess' enrollment, and it is no secret that the school was subject to numerous allegations and lawsuits regarding gang violence and vandalism of public property.

Officers Upshur and Ramsey discovered Taylor Hebert as they left Principal Blackwell's office, noticing an unpleasant, foul odor from one of the lockers. A janitor happened to be in the area and opened it, after which Taylor Hebert's unconscious body was discovered. She was sent to Brockton Bay General Hospital for treatment. Doctors discovered numerous tears and scars on her fingers and around her fingernails, no doubt due to her attempts to escape from her imprisonment, and suffered from infection due to contact with the contents of the biowaste inside the locker.

An attempt to launch an investigation was proposed on January 5th​, but no actual case was made due to BBPD being preoccupied by the overwhelming gang violence and cape-related incidents. Danny Hebert began investigating the circumstances behind Taylor Hebert's hospitalization and learned of the bullying. Following this, he and Alan Barnes, with the help of Carol Dallon, launched a major lawsuit against Winslow High School.

During these events, the PRT suspected Taylor Hebert of undergoing a Trigger event, given that the circumstances matched the requirements for it to happen. On January 13th​, Taylor Hebert's body was reported to have begun undergoing physical alterations. Doctors were baffled as all traces of diseases were suddenly gone from her body, her physical condition seemingly improved overnight, and her hair, originally colored black, turned white. This further increased suspicions that she Triggered while trapped inside the locker.

On January 29th​, 24 days following Danny Hebert's attempts to sue Winslow High School, Alan Barnes confronted Amanda Blackwell about the matter regarding the bullying campaign. The discussion between the two is unknown, but after this discussion, Amanda Blackwell inexplicably settles on offering reparation payments to the Hebert family and resigned from her position. It is possible that Alan Barnes may have threatened Amanda Blackwell, and highly probable that he threatened to expose Sophia Hess' identity as a cape. It should be noted that the Barnes family signed a Non-Disclosure Agreement, but whether or not he intended to actually leak the information is unclear. The following day, Winslow High School lost all funding from the PRT.

On January 31st​, Taylor Hebert awakened from her coma. While the probability that Taylor Hebert became a Parahuman was incredibly high, the PRT made no move to investigate Taylor Hebert or request that she undergo screenings for signs of awakened superhuman abilities. This is in large part due to Dragon's suggestion, as Taylor Hebert would be emotionally compromised and it would be safer to have her be tested at a later date, where she was at less risk of harming herself or other parties.

On February 14th​, the BBPD reported the first-known sighting and activity of the independent cape "Vergil."

Feb. 15
10:15 A.M.

My alarm went off for the fifth time after having hit the wrong button four times. My fifth try was more successful than the last times since I finally hit Snooze.

I really didn't want to leave my bed, but at the same time, I also didn't want to lounge about all day in my room doing nothing. The only reason I got off my lazy butt was because my dad was yelling for me. I could smell the burnt bacon and toasted bread from my room.

I tossed on a dingy sweater and pants before making my way to the kitchen. There was my dad, King Geek Supreme and ruler of House Hebert, sitting on the couch reading a newspaper while the news was on. Breakfast was already on the table; two plates on either side, one with two slices of toasted bread with a side of bacon and eggs while the other only had the slice and eggs.

"Finally awake, kiddo?"

I shrugged as I sat down. "Sorry about that. I had a rough night."

Dad looked over his shoulder. I could tell by the look on his face that he was worried. "Was it about-"

I hastily cut him off. "No, it wasn't about that, dad. It was…about mom."

"Oh."

That was that.

Mom was kind of a forbidden subject around the house, though not as much these days. Dad usually clammed up or his mouth zipped itself shut whenever I tried to talk about mom or what she would do sometimes. He'd still do that, but nowadays, he would say "she'd do this" or "she'd probably do that" and so on. I think it might have been because he nearly lost me.

I'll admit, my relationship with my dad wasn't exactly the best after mom died. We both shut down, dealing with our grief in our own little ways. I thought I was getting better, but then it happened out of nowhere. The day Emma, my best friend and sister-from-another-mother, turned into a raging fucking bitch who made it her goal in life to make my life a living hell and declared Sophia Hess her newest BFF. I wasn't sure how or why that happened, only that it was the worst thing that could have happened to me. Especially when she shoved me into a locker full of god-knows-what from the waste bin in the girls' bathroom.

It wasn't until later that I learned the whole story from Emma's dad. A run-in with a couple ABB thugs that left her traumatized even now, and of all the capes that could have saved her, it had been Shadow Stalker. I don't know if this was before she joined the Wards or not, but either way, she got a pep talk from a lunatic obsessed with "the strong and the weak" concepts.

Did I feel bad for Emma after she went through all that? Yes. Did that make me want to forgive her for all the shit she and the Trio did to me for over a year? Hell no. It was going to be a very long time before I even gave the idea of forgiving Emma some consideration.

Anyway, after the locker incident and my coma, the gap between Dad and me started to bridge itself. He was angry with me at first for not telling him about Emma and the bullying, but after that was the pure-existential fear he had when he thought he lost me. He already lost Mom and I didn't even want to imagine what he'd do if he lost me not long after.

I tossed the sunny-side up egg over my toast and bit into it. As I expected, my sense of taste was still off. I could still feel the texture of the toast, a thin layer of butter over the top and mixing with the fluids of the egg yolk, but I couldn't actually taste the bread or the egg itself. I wondered if it was because my body was still changing or this was a permanent thing.

I hope not. I'd hate it if I couldn't taste Dad's signature pita wraps anymore.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Dad shook his head. "I will in a little bit." He flipped the page of the newspaper. I saw a frown form on his face. "There was another murder last night."

I stopped mid-bite. An uneasy feeling wormed its way into my stomach. That wasn't talking about what I think it was, was it? "H-huh?"

"The Bloody Cape Murders." I let out an internal sigh of relief. Okay, so it wasn't about that. Then I registered the words 'Bloody Cape' and went ramrod straight. "Another one? That's, what, the sixth time this month?"

"Yeah. One of the capes from the Merchants. Poor bastard. What the hell is the PRT doing?"

That was the question, wasn't it? The Bloody Cape, also called BB's Jack the Ripper over on PHO, got the name for self-explained reasons. They had been active for over ten years, and had at least three or four dozen capes to their name, both from before they came to Brockton Bay (at least two or three kills) and a lot more when they came to the Bay. They're one of the few villains in the city that actually has a kill-order, not that you could blame the PRT.

There were plenty of theories about who this mystery serial killer could be, ranging from assassin to Jack the Ripper himself or even some kind of monster. The most popular one was that they were a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine, or at the very least wanted in on the group.

I thought about going after him, but dismissed it. I was still learning about what I could do, not to mention getting used to my new arsenal. If I did run into the Bloody Cape, I wanted to be at my best. I wanted to be prepared.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. It was 10:40. I finished the rest of my breakfast and stood up.

"I'm going out for a jog."

Dad set the newspaper down and looked at me with concern. "Will you be okay?"

I flashed him a small smile. "I'll be fine, Dad. I won't go outside the Boardwalk."

"If…if you're sure, honey."

I hated that miserable look he had. The look that kept telling him he failed when it mattered the most, even though he didn't. If anything, it was the other way around. Every time he had that look, I felt like I was the one who failed him.

I should have told him about the bullying—about Emma sooner.

I quickly shook my head and left my house behind me, sprinting down the street and towards the bay. I had to stop thinking about that and just focus on the present. Forget about Emma and the Trio. Forget about Winslow and focus on the present.

It was all behind me. I had a new life waiting for me at the moment. Time to make sense of…whatever I was right now.

I kept my sprint slow so I didn't draw attention. Last thing I wanted was for someone to see me running like I was at the Olympics while hyped up on steroids. I enjoyed my jogs since it helped keep my mind off things, and the cold never bothered me as much as it used to. The frigid breeze now just felt like a cool whip of fresh air to me.

I reached the Boardwalk in little time at all. The beach was dead as usual, stores were trying to drum up business like always, and airships were flying across the air and towards the Rig. I wondered whether or not that meant someone got captured again, and if so who, before realizing it was only a matter of time before they broke out again.

There weren't very many people at this hour, safe for a few familiar faces. When you live in Brockton Bay for all your life, everyone looks familiar to you. I recognized Mrs. Autumn sitting on a bench feeding the pigeons and little James rushing past his parents on a sugar rush. I even knew some of the little details that I never really noticed before, like how James' parents looked wary and the mother was keeping a taser in her coat pocket and Mrs. Autumn was keeping a gun in her purse.

And then, of course, there was the noises. I cringed a little as I tried to filter them out. So many sounds happening all at once, like a metal band going out of sync and going as loud as possible.

I eventually fell out of a jog and more into a walk as I noticed a familiar face among the crowd of people. I almost didn't recognize her since she was actually wearing a jacket over her strapless top. I guess she actually felt it was that cold.

It was a combination of my hoodie being up and the fact that I was wearing sunglasses that Madison didn't recognize me. I don't think she even looked my way, not even when we passed each other by.

It would be so easy. Just a flick of the finger and bam! No more Madison Clements. I would never have to see her again.

Those darks thoughts, the ones that just kept swirling in the back of my head ever since I woke up, always reared their ugly heads whenever I thought about the Trio. I did my best to ignore it, but sometimes, it felt so tempting.

I took a deep breath. In and out. Then I resumed walking, getting as far away from Madison as I could before she thought I looked familiar. I didn't want to have to deal with her outside of school if I could help it, even if she was harmless. Unlike Sophia or Emma, she really didn't contribute much in their endeavors. If anything, she was just the hanger on and was only part of the group because Emma and Sophia were the most popular girls in school.

Thinking about Madison got me wondering about Winslow again. Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see people's reactions.

In what would have taken half an hour walking in ten minutes jogging, I arrived at a small crowd of people. The street was crowded with pretty much the whole neighborhood. Yellow tape cordoned off a section of the street, news vans and PRT trucks taking up the whole sidewalks. I saw a few police cars also.

The reason why?

In front of a small flight of stairs, there was a pile of rubble: Chunks of concrete and steel and plaster neatly sliced up and stacked atop each other like a house of cards falling in on itself. Some chunks of rubble had tagging and graffiti spray-painted on them, all gang symbols and whatnot.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened here?"

"This happened last night? How did no one hear about this?"

"Well, I'm not complaining. It's about time this place went down."

"Maybe that Blackwell bitch should be glad she resigned. God, could you imagine how she'd react to seeing what happened to this place?"

"Whoever did this sure as hell got the school district's thanks."

I smiled slightly to myself. I didn't have to do it. There wasn't any real reason to. It was behind me, but there was that tiny part of me that was angry that it got off lightly. Maybe it was just me lashing out at how unfair it was. Blackwell resigned and I got pulled out, but it just didn't feel like it was enough.

Maybe I was just being selfish when I did it.

Either way, from the looks of it, nobody was angry that Winslow High School got chopped to pieces.

Satisfied with myself and preparing for the monumental amount of grief Boss was going to give me, I made my way towards the Gates of Hell. I stopped when I saw my reflection.

I still thought I didn't look good with white hair.

So, my very first Worm fanfic, and more importantly, my first ever SV fanfic in general.

Quick introductions, hellooooo ladies and gents. My name is SkyRig, used to be called Starlight's Poet and Demons Anarchy of Pride over on Fanfiction.net. I decided to migrate over to this site after some consideration (and realizing how bad FF.net can be. Looking at you assholes that keep asking me about Seventh Heaven!) . I'm still in the process of migrating all of my stories over here, which is a huge endeavor in of itself seeing as how I have 43 stories.

Well, 44 as of now.

Anyway! VERY QUICK WARNING! I have not finished reading Worm in its entirety and I am currently on the Arc "Hive." I originally intended on posting this once I was twenty or so arcs in, but a friend of mine offered to be a co-writer and fill in the gaps. That said, updates for this story will be varied, and I will most likely update again when I am further along in Worm so I don't fuck things up (possibly worse than I already have with what's been established).

One last thing to say before I end this is that the "Bloody Cape" mentioned is not an OC. It is a canon character.

...well, in Devil May Cry anyway.

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

The Gates of Hell was a fancy bar that opened up sometime last month while I was in a coma. It's in the downtown area, but it's very close to the Boardwalk so I wouldn't have to worry about getting jumped by thugs on the way there. Not that I did have to worry; if anything, I worried that I might accidentally kill somebody or out myself.

I reached the bar with no problems. Since it was still close to noon, the bar wasn't open yet. I paid the "Closed" banner on the door no mind and stepped inside.

At first glance, you would think you stepped inside some ritzy-fancy night club owned by someone with too much money. The walls were decorated in violet padding, the tables and chairs made from black wood and decorated in engravings, and hanging on the walls were various portraits of scandalous-clad men and women in poses, some on poles (thankfully clothed). The counter itself was mundane in comparison, with the bar stools entirely metal with velvet cushions to make anybody sitting on them comfortable. The counter wasn't made of anything special, just regular wood.

Behind the counter, however, was an assortment of bottles of wine, alcohol and even soft drinks for the bartender to serve in case somebody was underage.

This was another reason why the Gates of Hell was popular in the short amount of time it was open. It catered to the underage as well. It probably helped the fact that anybody who lied about their age was found out almost immediately or tried to pick a fight and got their ass handed to them on a silver platter.

I will never forget the day I first came here and saw Boss manhandle Hookwolf.

Boss was sitting behind the counter, smoking a cigar that probably cost more than it should.

"Hey, sister. How you livin'?"

I shrugged as I took a seat on one of the stools. "Fine, I guess."

"Does daddy dearest know you're here?"

"Probably not. You gonna tell?"

Boss smirked. "I won't say nothin' if you won't." I smiled back. He tossed his cigar into the ashtray on the far end of the room as if he was shooting a basketball from the far side of the court. "How'd you like your new toy? Work like a dream?"

"I've only had it for one night, Boss."

I held out my hand, willing the "toy" into my hand. It appeared in a flash of red light, filling out in my hand and solidifying into a sword. More accurately, it was a Japanese sword called a shirasaya. It bore no hilt or guard, only a handle and grip to hold the blade. Both the grip and the sheathe were jet-black with red streaks running along the edge and bottom, intertwining with a blue lightning-bolt of swords that ran straight across the sheathe before wrapping around the red streaks over the grip. The bottom of the hilt had a purple tassel. Clipped on to the tassel was a snowflake and a ball of flame.

"But, it's the best early birthday present I could have ever asked for."

Boss chuckled. "I would certainly hope so. I can't say it's my finest work, but if you manage to bag yourself a real nasty piece of work, I can make you some even better toys."

I shuddered, remembering how close I had been to death on my first night out as a cape. Oh, sure, the PHO was talking about what I did last night, but that was my worldwide debut to the world of capes. It wasn't the first time I tried out my powers.

I took a deep breath, trying my best not to remember the feeling of my skin being scorched or the sensation of my body being chilled all the day down to the bone marrow. I dismissed my sword, letting it fade from sight. I wasn't quite sure how it could return to my side just by "calling out" for it, but to be fair, I wasn't entirely sure what I was anymore.

"So, what brings you to the Gates of Hell?" Boss asked. "Let me guess, you thinking of hunting down that psycho that's on the news?"

"Is it a demon?"

"Odds are pretty high unless Jack Slash is in town."

The fact that Boss confirmed what the Bloody Cape was didn't ease my concerns. I've been learning how to use my powers for ten days, and so far, all I knew I could do was that I could hit hard, move fast (especially when I really wanted to) and create magic swords out of thin air. And if my first night out was any indication, I had a healing factor. In cape terms, I was a Blaster, Brute, Mover, and maybe a Striker. But what if this was just the tip of the ice berg and I was capable of so much more?

I still didn't buy Boss' claims that I wasn't entirely human anymore, but at the same time, I can't deny what was happening.

Living in a world filled with people who had superpowers was one thing, but learning that demons and angels existed was something else entirely.

"You thinking of hunting it down?"

I shook my head. "Not right away. I want to get stronger first, and see what else I can do. And get used to my sword."

"Probably a good idea, though I wouldn't suggest waiting for too long, sister. Whatever kind of demon this sick fuck is, it ain't killing cuz it's hungry. It's killing for shits and giggles."

I frowned. "The Bloody Cape is killing for fun?"

I tried very hard not to imagine what would happen if the Bloody Cape ever caught the attention of the Slaughterhouse Nine, or heaven forbid, if they joined.

Seeing that I still had plenty of time before Dad might start to worry, I made my way towards one of the more eye-catching decorations of the Gates of Hell. For some reason, Boss' patrons never saw it or acknowledged its existence, or they did and just didn't think much of it. It was a statue twice my height and nearly touching the ceiling; a woman kneeling down and struggling to carry an hourglass larger than her while bearing the mask of a lion over her face.

I placed my hand against the woman's left hand and felt my vision distort. Everything around me faded away, dispersing as if the world was nothing but smoke. My surroundings reshaped into an endless void of white. Lights twisted and bended in the sky above, if it could even be called that. The ground was nothing more than an endless sea of white, both solid and at the same time watery. Each step I took seemed to ripple and feet start to sink, but never quite falling too deep.

Once more, I called my sword into my hand. As I did, a shape rose out from the ground. A shadowy figure, bearing a humanoid physique but otherwise inhuman with no other discernable features. In other words, a living human shadow, albeit one wearing a comedy mask with a sad expression, crying tears of blood and wielding twin swords.

Slowly, I pulled the sword out from its sheathe. A silver blade, easily the length of my arm if not longer, gently slid out from its prison. The blade was covered in veins; orange-red on one side and icy-blue on the other.

The moment my sword was fully withdrawn from the sheathe, embers and flakes of ice began to fall from it in spite of the fact that it was neither covered in ice or encroached in flame.

The mockery twitched and tilted its head, twisting its arms as if falling into a stance. I closed my eyes for a moment to take a deep breath, pushing away all those unnecessary thoughts in the back of my head.

Right now, I wasn't Taylor Hebert. I wasn't the weak, pitiful girl who was trapped inside that locker, unable to do anything. Right now, I was someone else. I was someone who did have strength.

I have power. Power I have no idea what to do with.

…but I was going to find out.

I opened my eyes. I threw my sheathe aside, not caring that it vanished into red light when it touched the ground. The mockery gave a shrill cry and lunged towards me.

My sword and its own clashed and intertwined. And as sparks began to fly, I heard it. Ever so faintly in the back of my head. A tiny whisper.

The joyful laughter of my inner devil.

X X X X X X X X X X​

I returned home to find my Dad nowhere in the house. I found a note on the fridge telling me he had gone to work. The first time since I started getting back into the swing of things. He had pretty much taken all his sickdays in a single month just to look after me while suing the school in the process.

The thought of school, of Winslow, reminded me that I was going to be starting a new school life at Arcadia. The thought of me going there, to a school that the Wards attended, was enough to make me giddy, but at the same time worried that it was just going to be the same routine. Every school had its bullies, the apathetic teachers, the queen bees; how was Arcadia going to be different? Hell, knowing my luck, one of the queen bees was probably a Ward.

I wanted to think that Arcadia was going to be a fresh start, but I guess Winslow made me jaded. In the end, I'd know whether or not I would end up falling into the same old role when I got there.

Wanting to think about something else, I pushed the thought of school aside and leaped unto the couch and decided to take over the TV since the King Geek had vacated his throne. Maybe I'd catch something interesting.

Let's see here… Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon, 4Kids, no thank you. Reality TV Shows? Law and Order? Not my cup of tea. Soap opera? Ugh, no thanks!

Okay, nothing interesting on that front. What about news?

Click.

BBN filled out the television screen. As usual, news anchor Dylan Andrews was present and in that god-awful pink suit.

"-om the cold weather, Brockton Bay is once again the center of a brutal ongoing conflict between the Empire Eighty-Eight and Azn Bad Boys. The PRT hasn't provided any details about the battle that erupted near downtown, but eye witness reports say that Hookwolf and Oni Lee had engaged in a skirmish that spilled out into the open streets, which eventually led to a full-scale battle between the Empire and ABB. Thankfully, Lung was not present, but the battle led to over a hundred innocent bystanders being wounded in the crossfire. No deaths were reported, but the property damage ensued in the battle is estimated to be in the upper 500. That's thousands, mind you!"

I winced, realizing that my training session in The Void saved me from that bout of chaos. At least now I knew why there were so many police cars racing around downtown Brockton. The news went on to say that it was a miracle that the fighting was only between the typical street thugs and the capes, but Hookwolf ended being caught by BBPD after being knocked unconscious by one of Oni Lee's bombs. I wasn't ecstatic to hear that to be honest, and I was pretty sure nobody else was either. This was hardly the first time Hookwolf had been caught, and it was only a matter of time before he was sprung free from either his prison cell or the Rig.

The amount of times villainous capes escaped from custody boggled the mind. You would think that Piggot would ask the PRT for reinforcements or more capes just to prevent crap like that from happening.

Then again, Brockton Bay was a shithole of epic proportions. Not as bad as quarantine zones, but still not someplace someone would want to live.

I wondered whether or not I could help the PRT in dealing with all of this once I knew what I could do. I wasn't under the illusion that I could just deal with all the gangs in one night. I was one person, and some of the capes the gangs had were dangerous. Lung was the first that came to mind. How was one person supposed to wipe out all the gangs? What help could I possibly provide?

I sighed, sinking into the couch and staring up at the ceiling. I could sort all this out later. For now, I would just focus on training and school.

…still. Maybe I should go out for another night on the town? See if I couldn't do some good? Sure, odds were I might run into a villain were pretty high, and the idea of being shot at scared the shit out of me, but compared to nearly being demon doggy chow?

Taking down a couple of gun-toting thugs should be fine!

…right?

Spoiler alert. It won't be that easy. Poor Taylor, man.

Welp, on the plus side, she'll be making a new friend soon! One that will join her on her demon hunting escapades, and show off what you guys can probably expect. Hopefully its good?

Regarding a question somebody asked earlier about exactly how Taylor would rate, I think I've already answered that, but to be on the safe side, Taylor has a half-demon physiology like the Sparda twins, so she has increased strength, speed, plus a healing factor, and given that she's Triggered with Vergil's skillset, she can also conjur Summoned Swords. That being said, she will actually have to train in order to reach Vergil's level of fighting power.

So, yeah, no Judgment Cuts right off the bat.

For any questions about Taylor's weapon, those will be revealed in time. For now, think of it like Agni and Rudra in the shape of a katana, but focusing primarily on ice and fire.

I will work on the next chapter when I have the time, but don't expect an update anytime soon. Still gotta finish migrating my FF.net content over here. Only at a snail's pace.

Let me know what you guys think. Is it as good as the first chapter? Is it worse?

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

After making a convincing enough dummy and hoping to god that Dad didn't try to investigate, I left my house through the backdoor while wearing some different clothes, plus a face-mask and cap. I didn't want to leave anything to chance in case one of the neighbors saw me and said something to Dad, hence the crappy disguise.

The stress of sneaking out aside, I enjoyed feeling the rush of cold wind blast across my body as I sprinted across the rooftops of some of the taller buildings in the area just to be on the safe side. To a normal person, I was probably some kind of blur leaping between one building and the next. I was a little concerned that me being careless might make me suspicious and cause somebody from the Wards, or god forbid the Protectorate, to try and chase after me, but by the time I reached my destination, I didn't see anyone.

Still, I couldn't deny the possibility that they were playing the long game and watching from a distance, maybe trying to keep an eye on me or something. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary or hear any sounds, so I was probably in the clear.

I jumped down the fire escape and onto the alleyway below me. The hobo lying on the ground that was trying to catch some sleep in a cardboard box of all things glanced at me for a minute before shaking his head and going back to sleep.

Hopefully he just thought I was a figment of his imagination or he was seeing things half-asleep.

I stepped out into the street and rounded the corner. My destination was right next to me. It was a store, evident by the banner with large letters hanging over the front entrance and the elaborate articles of clothing seemingly dancing behind the windows. It wasn't that the mannequins were automated or robotic, but rather that the cloth itself was moving, forcing the mannequin to move along with it. The reason why was easy to figure out, considering who owned the store in the first place.

I opened the door and stepped inside. The bell jingled and signaled my presence. "Hello? Parian, are you here?"

My voice carried across the store. Bright cheery music was playing throughout the store.

The Animatic Boutique was rather small compared to other clothing stores, which of course made it a lot more cramped once it became filled with mannequins all garbed in elaborate and colorful costumes and clothes, some looking like they came straight out of a Disney movie and others resembling something you would find on a Runway Fashion Show. A few mundane clothes like t-shirts, hoodies and jeans were among the ensemble, but they were towards the back.

I called out again to the shop owner. My echo and the music coming from the far back was the only response I received. That was odd. The sign on the front said "Open," so I assume she's still in here. Maybe she was in the back working on something. I walked further in, careful not to knock over any of the mannequins clustered around me. It was a shame Parian couldn't find a bigger shop to operate in, what with all the money she earned from selling her clothes and her collaborations with other clothing companies.

I made it about halfway before I stopped and noticed that one of the mannequins was shorter than the rest. It was in an odd-position, one arm bent in an "L" shape and palm open as if holding something while the other held its hand over its eyes. The dress it wore was Eastern in design, a kimono I think it was called, bright red with leaf decorations along the bottom right of the hem and on the left sleeve. It was also wearing a wig with a doll mask.

"What in the world?" I stared at the mannequin, wondering why this was one different before I noticed that the "hands" of the mannequin seemed more organic and pink. I leaned forward to inspect it and-

"BOO!"

"Holy-jesus-FUCK!"

I scrambled to put distance between us, Orthrus flashing in my hands. I had just taken a defensive stance when I realized who the "mannequin" was. Parian was laughing uncontrollably, barely able to remain on her feet while clutching her stomach.

"Y-you should have seen your face! It was priceless!"

I glared at the independent cape. "That was not funny! What if I attacked you?!"

"Oh, relax. I had faith you wouldn't." I stared and wondered if she was sane or not.

Parian undid the black wig over her head, revealing her blonde locks while removing the mask over her face. She wore the biggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen since Winslow while moving to the far end of the shop, already removing the kimono.

"I knew you were going to stop by today, so I couldn't resist. Sorry about that!"

Unless she was a precog, there was no way Parian had the patience to wait so long, holding that ridiculous pose while wearing a wig. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Jose told me!" Parian replied cheerfully.

"Jose?"

"The guy standing guard outside my shop!"

I didn't see anyone protecting the shop, so who was she…? It struck me then who she was talking about. The guy looked pretty shabby-looking, but I guess looks could be deceiving.

Still, why in the heck was a hobo in charge of protecting Parian's clothing store? Was I missing something important here?

A few minutes later, Parian returned, now wearing her signature Victorian-era doll dress. She looked so much younger while wearing that to the point that I swore she was younger than me. In her hands was a bundle of clothes with what looked like a visor on top. She handed them to me and gestured for me to follow her into the back of the shop.

"It took a while to get them approved, but I was able to finish them just last night." I began to take off my cap and face-mask when I saw the small glare the blonde woman was shooting me. "For the record, had I not finished your outfit when you pulled that stunt last night, I would have to explain to my friend why I'm giving one of his inventions to the gal who wrecked Winslow."

I gave Parian a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I really have no idea what came over me." I threw my jacket aside and began to unbuckle my pants. I was a little self-conscious, undressing in front of another person. It probably would have been a lot more embarrassing had I been doing this in front of a man. "I just…"

"No, I get it. It's Winslow. At this point, I don't think there's anyone in Brockton Bay who's throwing a fit over what happened to it." Parian paused for a moment, then snickered. "Well, except for Amanda Blackwell, anyway. I guess it's a good thing she retired before you did that, huh?"

The thought of Principal Blackwell staring at the ruined remains of her school, on her knees and screaming in despair, was enough to make me laugh. After I was finally in my underwear, I slipped on my new outfit.

My cape costume was pretty simple-looking. A black v-neck shirt underneath a high-collar navy blue sweater and hood, leather jacket over it, both rolled up to the forearms. The jeans were normal, denim with a leather pouch strapped to the left knee. The boots were a little uncomfortable, but all new shoes were like that.

"How's it feel?"

"They're a little heavy," I admitted as I rolled my shoulders. "They smell a little too. They feel weird, too."

"Well, they aren't your average clothes. They're made of the usual cloth, leather, and mixed with Kevlar too."

"Kevlar?"

"You did ask me to make you clothes that were bullet resistant and tough to tear. That being said, if someone aims a shotgun to your chest or tries to snipe you, you might want to duck or get the hell out of the way."

I nodded in understanding. Against the typical street thugs, I think I stood a good chance by myself. But if someone was using heavy artillery, or god forbid I got into a fight with another cape, I was definitely going to be in for a world of hurt. The healing factor made things slightly easier, but I wasn't going to take any chances. Brockton Bay wasn't exactly full of villains who would go easy on me.

As much as I liked the outfit, I was curious about the visor and the pouch strapped to my leg. I opened it up and found several silver capsules sitting inside. "What are these?"

"Capture foam." I looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. Didn't she mean-? "And no, I don't mean containment foam. Think of capture foam as the less-strong and weaker sibling of Dragon's parahuman restraint soap. It's meant for the run-of-the-mill criminals and gangbangers. It also works on parahumans, but if they happen to be a Brute, they won't hold. They also dissolve after three hours."

"Let me guess, your friend also made this?" Parian nodded. I was curious to know what Tinker made these, since the only ones I knew of that were in the bay were Armsmaster, Kid Win, L33t, Squealer and Bakuda.

At first, I thought it was Armsmaster or Kid Win, seeing as how they were heroes and Parian was a rogue, albeit one affiliated with the PRT and more interested in helping people out in her own way, but then I realized that she had gone out of her way to get this stuff for me, an unknown cape. They probably didn't realize who I was until last night. Even if they did, I just didn't see them giving away their tech for free. Especially not to someone they knew nothing of.

L33t was a maybe by virtue of all of his tech being based around video games. Granted, I wasn't a video game nerd like he and Uber were, but last I checked there wasn't a video game with stuff like this.

As for Squealer and Bakuda…yeah, they're self-explanatory.

"And the visor?"

"Ah, that one's a bit experimental. To give the version I understood, it basically gives you info on whatever goon your fighting. If they're a known criminal or gang member, if they have a weapon on their person, etc. It's also supposed to automatically call and inform the police once you've rounded up a scumbag."

"Sounds pretty useful." I paused when I realized what she said earlier. "Wait, you said this was experimental?"

Parian nodded. "Yeah. It's sort of like a prototype. Don't worry, it shouldn't explode." I did not like how she paused right after she said that. "Maybe."

I stared at her for a moment, pondering whether I should give her a piece of my mind for giving me something that might blow up in my face, before I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

…at least the visor kind of looked fashionable?

I slid the capture foam capsules back into the pouch and pulled the hood over my head. After that, I slipped the visor over my face. A HUD immediately danced over my field of vision, words flying past the screen faster than I could read them before it settled on "SYSTEM INITIALIZED". Then it vanished and everything went blank until I looked back at Parian.

Her body was highlighted and the visor seemed to scan her or something. A second later and information was displayed on my HUD.

PARIAN
ROGUE, AFFILIATED WITH PRT
NON-HOSTILE

I whistled. "Neat." I was still worried that this might blow up while I was using it, but for now, I was going to enjoy what it had to offer. I summoned my sword to my side and made my way towards the back entrance. I stopped right as I reached the door and looked back at Parian. "Thanks again, Parian."

"I should be the one thanking you," Parian replied kindly. "If it wasn't for you, I would have been monster dog chow." She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully and frowned. "Now that I think about it, since when the hell did Hellhound get two-headed dogs?"

I shrugged and thanked her again before I leaving her shop. I felt bad lying to her about what that thing was, but it wasn't as if I could tell her that the thing that attacked her was a demon, right?

I jumped up towards the nearest rooftop. I let my senses expand, hearing and seeing things that I never could have done as a human. At first it was really hard, hearing so many things at once. So many noises, like voices, gunshots, metal hitting metal, flesh slapping against flesh and so on. Eventually, I started to filer out the noises. Searching for the reason I was out here.

After a minute, I heard screaming.

I smirked and leaped into action.

Look out Brockton Bay.

Vergil is on the prowl.

Huh. Okay, so this is early. I wasn't expecting to get this out until tomorrow.

So, I lied what I said last chapter. This is just Taylor getting her "Vergil" outfit, though she has yet to fix the glaring problem of her hair. As one of you already pointed out, her hair is going to make her stick out like a sore thumb once people start connecting the dots.

We also have Parian being the one who designed her suit, and happens to be friends with a Tinker, who provided Taylor with the visor and capture foam. I will say that the Tinker is not an OC but a canon character. I'll leave it up to you to figure out who it is.

Next chapter will have us getting into the action, with Taylor's first actual night out as a legit cape now, and her (unintentional) first demon hunt. As well as her getting a partner.

How was this chapter? Bad? Good? Let me know.

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

I will say this as many times as needed. Taylor IS NOT RELATED TO DANTE, VERGIL, NERO, SPARDA OR EVA. She is not part of the Sparda Bloodline. She is still Danny and Annette's daughter, and neither parent has any sort of relationship to any supernatural forces, demonic or otherwise.

 

[SkyRig]

Patrol wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be.

Brockton Bay was a cesspool, but for all the craziness and villains running around, there wasn't much happening. The Boardwalk was barren with almost no one around. The shops were all closed by now, and what few people that were out were the usual patrol officers. The market wasn't much better in that, while people did walk about the streets, there more officers.

I thought that I might be able to find someone, maybe even a Merchant druggie, but I found nothing.

Maybe it was just a quiet night?

"I wonder if the Wards are out?"

It might explain why there weren't any thugs out.

Then again, I've only been out for half an hour tops. I guess I could try and expand my route. I went over the map I stashed in my jacket. The Merchants had been trying to get establish a level of control in the Docks, but constant gang wars between the Empire and ABB prevented them from actually going through with it. Granted, the Docks by themselves don't have much influence, since the Bay had been on the decline when business imports and exports started going down, but the Docks did have some level of control over sea trade. If they got control of the Docks, a gang could start buying and selling illegal items via the sea trade routes.

For that reason alone, the Docks was the center of more than a few gang wars over the last couple of years. It eventually reached the point where capes started to pop up, causing the PRT to get involved almost regularly. By now, patrols around the Docks was nothing out of the ordinary.

Whenever I saw the news about the Docks being attacked or a fight breaking out near it, I always got so worried about Dad. I kept telling him that maybe it was time to find a new job. Of course, Dad shrugged off my concerns. He said he could handle it, and even if he could find a new job, he wouldn't. He cared for those under his employ and wanted to do everything in his power to ensure they were paid and cared for. That was Danny Hebert, the Daddy of the DWU and King Geek Supreme of House Hebert.

Alternatively, there was Downtown. Downtown was the frequent target of Empire and ABB skirmishes. The incident from earlier today came to mind immediately. Chances were that the Empire and the ABB were still pretty sore about what happened, so odds were high that both gangs were looking for payback.

So, which was I going to go to first? Just before I could give the matter some serious thoughts and consider the pros and cons, my visor lit up.

"What the…"

A map formed in front of my eyes. It was a map of Brockton Bay—more specifically a map of Downtown. Red marks dotted the north side of Downtown, along with what looked like a police report.

Was this thing showing me a crime in progress? What kind of Tinker friend did Parian have? I seriously hope she wasn't going to get herself in trouble for giving me this.

Either way, my decision was made for me. I made my way towards Downtown, barely able to hide my excitement. Hopefully, the goons wouldn't start shooting at me.



Surprise, surprise, they started shooting at me. Even more surprising was that it wasn't the ABB, Empire or even the Merchants. It was a couple of low-grade no-name thugs wearing hockey masks and paper bags. I wish I was joking about that last one.

The fight was painfully short. It lasted all of maybe twenty or thirty seconds, ending with me pinning the thugs to a brick wall with glowing orange blades. None of the blades pierced anything vital and most of them only stabbed through the clothes, though that wasn't to say that the thugs were totally unharmed. A few were sporting a couple of black eyes and bruises and I think I might have broken one of their ribs? It was hard to tell, honestly.

I stayed behind long enough for a police car to arrive. To my surprise, it was my next door neighbor and the guy who caught me slicing up Winslow, Murphy.

"Officer," I said, keeping my voice was low as possible. I was really hoping my scarf was muffling my voice well enough since he was probably the only guy besides my dad who might recognize me by voice.

Murphy tipped his hat. "Vergil," he greeted. "Digging the new look." He looked at the thugs pinned to the wall and whistled. "Not bad. These things disappear?"

"One sec." I snapped my fingers. The summoned swords shattered into yellowish-red fragments and dissipated into nothing. The thugs slumped to the ground, groaning all the while. "There you go."

"Not bad. You, uh, thinking of join the Wards anytime soon?"

I nodded. "I'm planning on it. That is, if they'll have me."

"For their sake, they better," Murphy chortled. "By the way…you haven't been slicing up anymore schools lately, have ya? My boss is still asking me questions about you."

I cringed. "Y-yeah… Sorry about that, I just…"

"Hey, it's no skin off my back. Myself and a lot of other people are happy that Winslow's gone. Well, at least until someone decides to rebuild it." Murphy then turned to the other officers behind him. "Alright boys, let's cuff 'em and get 'em out of here."

The officers waved and thanked me for my services before hauling the thugs off. Satisfied, I leaped up to a build rooftop. To be honest, I thought I would feel a lot more giddy about stopping an attempted robbery. I mean, it was my first real thing as a hero. I should be happy and overwhelmed for stopping a couple of bad guys, even if they weren't hardcore criminals or capes.

Instead, all I could think was, that's it?

I felt disappointed.

I was glad that I didn't run into a gang-affiliated cape, like Hookwolf or Oni Lee, but at the same time, I couldn't help but feel dissatisfied with how my patrol was going. I've only been out for maybe close to an hour, so there was plenty of chances for me to run into another couple of gangs or thugs asking to be caught and busted, but when I thought about how I was going to be only dealing with two-bit criminals, I got frustrated. Honestly speaking, I would very much prefer being shot at over, say, being carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey or thrown into a building at Mach 5, but I can't help but crave a challenge.

I wonder if it was because of what I was now. Boss said that being, well, half-demon was going to be a confusing experience for me, but if this is what he meant, then I was going to have learn how to tell my other half to suck it up.

Baby steps, Taylor. We start with baby steps, then work our way up the ladder before going after the big boys.

I was about to head off further in, but I was stopped by the sound of my cellphone going off. It took me by surprise for a second and nearly caused me to jump before I sighed and took out my phone. To my dread, it was Dad.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answered and prayed to whatever god existed in this world that he did not find out about my dummy. "Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo. How're you doing?" Dad didn't sound aggravated or confused, so that was a hint he didn't find out about my ruse. He might not even be home right now. "Everything okay at the house?"

"Yeah, totally. Just watching some cheap Aleph flicks on the TV right now. You know, the boring ones?"

"Did you eat?"

"Mm-hm. Had some leftovers." Having said that, I was felt a craving for the meatloaf sitting in my fridge. I should probably eat it before Dad noticed it was still there. "What's up? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, trouble at work. I'll probably be home late tonight. Don't bother waiting up for me. Make sure all the doors and windows are locked, okay?"

"I got it, Dad, don't worry. Did you want me to make something for you when you get home?"

Ever since the locker incident at Winslow, Dad had been bending over backwards for me, doing everything he could to make me feel better. When he told me that he pulled me from Winslow and managed to sue the school, not to mention pulling some strings to get me into Arcadia, I almost broke his ribs in a bear-crushing hug. He stayed home more often, and half the time we found ourselves talking about the old days. Mom even came up a few times, and despite the look of pain Dad had when it happened, he never stopped and continued. Little by little, the gap that formed between us was starting to close.

It was still there, but compared to how it was after mom died and the bullying at Winslow started, it had gotten smaller. Things between me and King Geek Supreme were still awkward, but he was getter better. I was getting better.

"Nah, I think I'm good for food tonight, but thanks anyway, kiddo." I could practically hear the smile on the other end of the phone. "Make sure you get plenty of sleep, okay? You got a big day tomorrow."

"I know, I know. Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Taylor."

I ended the call with a smile on my face. That smile vanished moments later when I saw something flicker in the distance. Any other time before my trigger, I never would have noticed it since it was too far. But I saw it nonetheless; a faint trail of red vapor, weaving across the empty streets, up the side of a building, across the rooftop and fading into an alley.

"Heeellooo…"

Looks like my night just got a lot more interesting…



I followed the trail and found myself led away from Downtown and into Shantytown. I considered the possibility that this was a trap, but the further I went, the more I realized what I was following. I wasn't being led anywhere, but rather I was following the aftermath of a battle-in-progress. Some parts of Shantytown were damaged, walls caved in, pavement ripped apart and cars overturned and lying on their sides. The sidewalk was carved and in pieces like something sliced it apart. Chunks of debris were scattered about, some as big as boulders, one of which was lodged into a brick wall.

The police were already investigating the scenes, and I happen to see who I thought to be Miss Militia among their number. As much as I wanted to help out and point out the trail, I didn't think I could talk with them just yet. Too nervous and afraid that I might screw up my only chance of making a good impression. Instead, I chased after whatever or whoever was fighting.

My search eventually reached its end in an old subway tunnel. Shantytown used to have one, but it shut down years ago due to poor management and a railway accident that killed four people. The tracks showed signs of damage, but the management had done nothing to fix it. It had been a matter of time before the rot was discovered. Damages were filed and the subway was shut down, supposedly until new renovations were made, but that obviously wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Not when the Merchants had recently made the old subways their home, and from the looks of it, it was going to be a while before they thought about leaving.

My footsteps echoed as I made my way down the steps and into the old station platform. Dust particles floated in the air by the millions, the floors of the platform caked in a inch of the stuff. The walls showed signs of deterioration, cracks and holes decorating the place. There were several half-torn posters on the walls of old Aleph movies and Bet actresses and actors and whatnot, though why they were torn was none of my concern.

What was my concern, however, was the body lying near the tracks.

I swore under my breath and dashed to their side. In a flash, I was right beside them. It took me only a second to realize the person on the ground was none other than Rune. She looked like she had been caught in an Endbringer attack and came out worse for wear; her clothes were in tatters, her hood reduced to shreds and bloodstained splattered all across her costume. More worrisome was that she had a cut in her left side. I couldn't tell how bad it was, but it was leaking blood profusely. Not helping matters was the fact that she was missing her left arm from the forearm down.

"H-help…" I stared in both shock and dismay when I saw Rune turn her head. Her face was completely exposed; fair skin, blue eyes and long blonde hair—the tell-tale picture of an Aryan white girl. She was younger than me by at least a year. "He-help me… please…"

Any other time, I would have marveled at the idea of an Empire cape begging for help. She was losing blood and fast. I'm sure the Bay would benefit having one-less cape to deal with, but I wasn't going to turn down someone asking for help, especially if they were on death's door. Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and dialed 9-1-1.

I barely made it pass the third number when I heard something splash into a puddle of water from behind me. My instincts screamed danger. I turned around, calling forth Orthros just in time to raise the scabbard and block a scarlet blade from separating my head from my shoulders. The force of the attack threw me off my feet and into a wall. Years of wear and tear caused the wall to give way upon impact, letting me spill out into an empty space. I quickly got back up on my feet and jumped out of the hole, my hand gripping my sword. The Summoned Swords flickered into my field of vision, floating at my side and ready to combat my enemy.

As soon as I saw my adversary, I paused and became filled with dread. It stood on its hind-legs, body leathery and covered in scales like a reptile. It was ten-feet tall with scales dyed blood red, a blade jutting out from its forearm. White eyes stared back at me, holding nothing but malice and loathing. Its jaw split into halves, revealing rows of sharp teeth and a forked tongue slithering out from its mouth as it hissed.

Anyone else would have thought it was a Case-53. I knew otherwise. Not too long ago, I fought its cousin and had Boss turn it into the sword that sat in my hand. The color of the scales and the blade growing out of its arm also told me of what, or rather who this monster really was.

"Ah, fuck me sideways…"

The demon hissed and vanished in a flicker of red. In the next second, ice and fire roared in unison as I clashed blades with it once again.

Breakneck Predator - Fury
​

Oh, holy shit. I actually updated this on Halloween.

Okay, so I lied about Taylor's partner being introduced this chapter. That will actually be next chapter, assuming Taylor can last that long. Let it be known that I FUCKING HATE FURIES! I've either gotten so annoyed by them teleporting around or gotten hit so many times and got a Devil Breaker smashed to pieces because of these fucking assholes!

Which, of course, makes it a perfect opponent for Taylor to fight. She will not, however, be getting a Devil's Arm out of the deal. Orthros will be her only Devil's Arm until way later down the line.

Anyways, meet the Bloody Cape. He's really nice. Just ask Rune.

I also have a new Worm fanfic up titled Adapt. It's a crossover with Shin Megami Tensei, by the way. You thought OG Worm was bad? Wait until you see what Earth Bet on the verge of an apocalypse and in the middle of an angel-and-demon tug-o-war dick-measuring content looks like. Anyone who knows SMT will know what I am talking about. The first "chapter" is pretty short and is little more than a vague description of what you can expect, but I'd appreciate some feedback and thoughts nonetheless.

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

Ice and fire danced in haphazard movements, each swing more unfocused than the last. Some attacks would hit, striking at the demon's blades while the others missed entirely, either leaving behind a scorch mark or a streak of large crystalline growths on the walls and ground. Every time I got close, the demon moved away. If I did not know any better, I would have thought that it was teleporting.

Either way, it got fucking irritating very quickly.

"Stand still, you son of a bitch!" I growled and swung my sword in a diagonal arc, flames roaring out in a fan as I tried to cut into its flesh. It dashed away in a flicker of red and saw it reappear on the other side of the tracks. I called forth a series of Summoned Swords and shot them forward. The demon destroyed them easily and fell into a crouch, green eyes glowing for a moment.

It vanished completely. I quickly searched for it, scanning my surroundings. I turned my back and immediately regretted it when I felt something sharp slice into my back. I bit back a scream and pivoted on my heel, retaliating with a swing and missing completely. The demon vanished again and reappeared away from me.

We must have been playing this game of cat and mouse for several minutes now, and I had not so much as landed a single hit on the damn thing. Every time I got close, it either blocked my hits or dashed away right as I was about to hit it. Even that damn two-headed dog I dealt with earlier this month could not move so quickly, and I still could not tell if it was teleporting or it was just that fast. The longer time went on, the more frustrated I became. I was starting to get sloppy. I needed to calm down.

Unfortunately, the demon would never allow me to collect myself long enough to cool my head. It must have known that I was trying to think more calmly and went on the attack, striking at me from every angle and keeping me on my toes. It wanted me agitated and too angry to think about fighting rationally. I knew that, but I could not help but feel frustrated from the lack of progress thus far. This was the reason why I did not want to go demon hunting or fight the Bloody Cape so early while I was still trying to figure out how my powers worked. I was still too inexperienced and green.

Worse still was that Rune was still bleeding out. Every second that went by, the closer she was to dying; either by blood loss or at risk of being collateral damage. If I did not get her medical attention soon, she was going to die.

The demon saw my hesitation. It pounced and vanished, reappearing right next to me with its blade drawn. I was able to defend myself against the blow, and more importantly, I finally got a decent hit in off the damn thing by way of shoving a Summoned Sword into its shoulder. To my chagrin, the magical sword did not go deep into the demon or cause it any discomfort. If anything, it seemed more annoyed and casually tore the blade out from its shoulder, shattering it with a squeeze of it fingers.

"Show off," I scowled. I swore I saw the damn thing snicker before it vanished in a flicker of red vapor.

There was one upside to this whole encounter. While the demon was busy keeping my angry and frustrated, unable to think properly and thus make me liable to screw up, I was learning.

The demon's eyes glowed whenever it was about to attack, making it easier for me to tell when to focus on defending myself. When it moved or after it moved, I noticed tiny twitches across its limbs and scales, either implying that it could not control its movements while it was moving or simply just standing still took an incredible amount of effort to stay still. There was a slight delay afterwards, hinting that it needed a few seconds to "cool down" so to speak before it could move again. The time between moves was between five to six seconds.

Five to six seconds for me to land a solid hit, or a few seconds to grab Rune and get out of here before the Bloody Cape could attack us. I knew from the start I was outclassed, and there was no way I could defeat it on my own. I could not rely on sheer dumb luck as I did with Orthros. As much as I despised the idea of allowing this thing to roam free, I was not ready to neither face it nor kill it. I needed to grow stronger.

The only thing that concerned me was whether the Bloody Cape would allow me to leave so easily.

I saw its eyes turn green again, noticing my hesitation once more. Its blade stretched out from its arm, ready to strike. It vanished and I took this opportunity to rush towards Rune. An idea formed in my head, but I was unsure if I could execute it. I felt the demon reappear behind me, body forming from red mist mid-leap and arm moving towards me as if to skewer my head. I slammed my foot on the ground and whirled behind me, swinging Orthros along with a trail of flames following in its wake. Our blades clashed and I forced it away.

Right as it reappeared, I switched Orthros' position in my hand, feeling the numbing cold in my grip, and slammed it hilt-deep into the ground. The tiles, the rotting earth, the pieces of rubble and debris littered across the ground and even the tracks—everything on ground level was covered in a thick sheet of ice.

To my relief, the demon found itself trapped. It hissed and pried itself free from the ice, giving me the opportunity I needed to grab Rune as carefully as I could, then make a break for it. I didn't bother running up the stairs and opted for the quickest way up. I switched my sword's position again and jumped up, blazing through the roof of the station platform and coming back up on ground level.

Okay, step one, complete.

Now, what the hell was step two?

"…well, I wasn't expecting this when I decided to go out on patrol."

I jumped and whirled around, aiming my Devil's Arm at the newcomer…and lowered it when I realized who I was aiming my sword at.

It was a girl maybe my age, dressed all in black. Despite the cold weather, she wore a black mini-skirt with black leggings, though said leggings were thicker than they should be with some noticeable tears in them, along with calf-high boots with gold metal plates along the front and around the ankles. Similar gold-plated metal armor covered her shoulders and forearms. There was more metal plating across her chest, but not enough to be considered a breastplate. Gold hair spilled out from beneath her hood, the upper half of her face concealed by a rather fancy-looking gold-and-silver visor.

It was official; my life sucked. Seriously, out of all the Wards I could have run into tonight, it had to be fucking Antares?!

"So, let me guess. New cape recruited by the Empire, right?" Antares rolled her neck. She practically breathed confidence, and I knew why. Out of all the Wards, she was the closest to being considered a 'mini-Alexandria'. "Nice fashion sense, by the way. I'd love to talk shop about that jacket, but I think we'll have plenty of time to chat once you're in the Rig."

I opened my mouth to speak, about to tell her that this was a misunderstanding and Rune needed help and prayed to god she believed me, but the red haze that formed behind her caught my attention. My eyes went wide.

"BEHIND YOU!"

Antares must have sensed it too because instead of thinking it was a trick, she turned around just in time to get slugged in the face by a large claw instead of a wickedly-sharp blade. The air around her shimmered for a brief moment right before she got sent flying and was smashed into an empty apartment building across the street, making a decent-sized hole in the process.

The demon grunted and turned its attention back to me. I readied Orthros and braced myself for Round 2, but stopped when I heard Antares roaring at the top of her lungs. She came out from the hole, speeding towards the demon like a bullet and kindly returned the favor with a haymaker that had me wincing in sympathy. The demon's head snapped back and got sent skidding across the pavement before it vanished mid-tumble and reappeared atop a lamp post. The fact that it sported not a single bruise or crack on its face but meaningfully rubbed its jaw told me all that I needed to know.

Antares did not do any real damage to it, but just enough for it to consider her worth killing.

"What the fuck?" Antares stared at the demon in bewilderment. "What kind of freakshow 53 are you?"

I glanced at Rune, who was whimpering in my arms. Blood was starting to seep into my clothes. Her face got paler by the second. I couldn't afford to waste anymore time.

I was so going to regret doing this…

"You can't fight it," I told Antares. "That thing's the Bloody Cape! It nearly killed Rune!"

I saw Antares go still. At first I thought it was out of fear. I amended that thought when I felt a wave of pure, unadulterated, white-hot rage erupt from her body. Her hands tightened into fists, the air hissing around her while her shoulders trembled. She did not smile, but bore her teeth.

"You don't say? I guess I'm just really fucking LUCKY!!"

Right as the demon jumped off the lamppost and vanished, Antares shot off like a bullet after it, the raw fury coming from her never fading in the least. It took a second for me to realize I shortly forgot how to breathe. What happened just now? What was causing her to radiate that much hate? For a second there, I felt terrified. Considering that, not too long ago I was staring down a two-headed hellhound, which was saying something.

Either way, I had my distraction. I quickly moved as far away from the fighting as I could and leaped up to a building, gently laying Rune against a wall. I was about to reach for my cellphone again and call for an ambulance, but Rune's hand stopped me.

"No…" she hissed, clutching her stump. "No…doctors…"

I cursed myself for not realizing it sooner. Her face was exposed, and more importantly, she was a villain. If I called an ambulance, they would not only know what her civilian identity was, but they were just as likely to call the PRT and have her arrested. As much as I wanted one-less Empire cape out of Brockton Bay, I was not about to break the Unwritten Rules. That, and I was not that big of a fucking bitch. Unlike Emma or Sophia, I actually had standards.

"Then who do I call?! In case you haven't noticed, you're missing an arm and you're bleeding out!"

"Cell," Rune got out through gritted teeth, obviously trying to power through the pain she was in. "Left pocket… P-Purity! S-speed dial…number 3…""

I dug my hand through the pocket she told me of and found the phone in question, dialing the number. It picked up after two rings.

"Tammi? What's wrong?"

I pointedly ignored the fact that I now knew Rune's real name. Fuck me, this really wasn't my day, was it?

"Rune is injured. We're in Shantydown, over by the old Shanty Subway Station in Eisthal Street. She just got attacked by the Blood Cape and she is missing an arm! She's losing a lot of blood, and if you don't get here, she is going to die! So would you mind hurrying the fuck up?!"

"Wait, w-"

I shut the phone close and returned it to Rune, right when I felt the ground beneath my feet shake. I looked down at the street below and found Antares still locked in battle with the demon.

I wasted no time in jumping back into the fray. I knew I was outclassed and it would have been better off for me to run and live another day, but at the same time, I knew I could not just leave someone behind. If Mom had been in the same position, she would not have done what I did and used Antares as a distraction. She would have found a way to get her help while also fighting the demon off.

My feet hit the ground, landing in between Antares and the demon. Before the latter could back off and vanish to get distance between us, I finally managed to get a solid good hit in. Blistering hot steel cut deep into its scales and across its chest, flames flickering off the open wound. The demon vanished into rest mist, then reappeared away from me, gingerly touching the wound and hissing.

"Back off," Antares growled at me. "This fucker's mine."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, switching Othros back to its original position. Flakes of ice dripped from the edge of its blade.

"Sorry, but I called dibs first. Unless you want to make this a competition?"

Antares didn't say anything at first. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her walk up next to me, cracking her knuckles. "For the record, I want answers after this."

"Sure. So long as you don't make me kiss your fist. I'm not a fan of knuckle sandwiches."

…oh god that was so cheesy. God dammit Dad! You're stupid sense of humor is infectious!

The time for banter was over when the demon's eyes glowed.

Round 2 officially began.

The Invincible Girl – Antares
​

Wow. This came out early.

Then again, I did decide to hold off on updating Pendulum's Fifth Swing on FF.net until its newest bug gets fixed. This has to be the worst one ever. Of all time.

And in other news, meet the "Lady" to Taylor's "Dante"! Sadly, there will be no grabbing falling maidens from demonic towers and getting a bullet in the head for your troubles, so Taylor will have to settle for dealing with a blonde bruiser. I was originally going to end the arc next chapter, but I decided to postpone it. Subhuman will end on 1.7, followed by an Interlude. After that is the flashback arc "Stylish," which shows how Taylor's life as a half-demon starts, her meeting with Rodin, and how she got the Devil's Arm Orthros.

And before you ask, the link in this chapter is the fight song I order you to listen to as Vicky and Taylor beat the shit out of the Fury while avoiding losing a limb or two.

See you in the next one!

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

This party's getting crazy. Let's rock!​

For the record, my inner Cape Geek was squealing with child-like glee. I felt like a kid again.

Until I nearly got my head chopped off, that is.

I ducked beneath the swing and countered with a fiery slash, just barely grazing the demon as it warped away. Not a moment after it reappeared had it found itself jumping away from Antares. Her fist glided over its cheek, barely missing her target. The second the demon was about to move, she snuck in a surprise hit with her knee straight into its abdomen, knocking it into the air. This did not inconvenience the demon whatsoever as it flickered and vanished, reappearing far away from our reach. I tried to hit with my Summoned Swords again, but it destroyed them as easily it had last time.

"Goddamn Mover bullshit," Antares muttered angrily. "How is it moving so damn fast?!"

I was curious about that as well, but I had neither the time nor the energy to think about it. The demon's eyes glowed. "It's about to attack!"

"How can you-"

She stopped when she saw the demon vanish and reappear in front of me, bringing its blade down on top of me. I blocked with my scabbard and kicked it back, following up with three Summoned Swords that embed themselves in its thigh, shoulder and neck.

"It's eyes glow when it's about to attack," I told her as I braced myself for another attack. "From what I saw, it also can't control its movements while its moving around. It's actually holding itself back just to stand still or attack."

"Seriously?"

The demon took a step back and crouched, eyes glowing again before it vanished in a flurry of red. I felt it approach from behind and turned to block, only to see it vanish again inches away from me. I screamed in pain when I felt its blade slice across my back. Antares followed shortly after, struck in the back but unfazed by the damage. She managed to avoid the blade that attempted to impale her through the face, grabbing its wrist. Smiling viciously, she pulled on its arm and slugged it in the face, again and again until she managed to break off a few scales. She went for another punch, only for the demon's eyes to glow and vanish in its red haze, taking Antares with her.

I saw it dash about, appearing randomly all over the place before it finally came a halt in front of me, throwing Antares into me and knocking us both to the ground. I scrambled up to my feet quickly enough, but the Ward took a few seconds and was staggering.

"I think I'm gonna be sick…" Antares grimaced, a little green in the face. "I don't think this bastard is moving really fast so much as he is tearing through space."

Tearing through space? What does that-? I push that thought aside for the moment when I saw the demon lunge and reappeared on top of me. The scabbard deflected the first strike, but it went in for a second, which I blocked with Orthrus and countered with a quick slash to the shoulder. Thick black blood spewed across the pavement.

We were getting nowhere. At this rate, it was going to take us forever to kill it. And there was also the possibility that it would dash away when it realized how close we were to actually ending its life. Of course, that was assuming this thing had any sense of self-preservation. The major problem was its speed, but I could not think of anything that might help us or slow it down. Antares managed to latch onto it when it was moving, so anything latched on to it would come along for the ride.

A light bulb flashed in my mind.

I hope to god this works, because if not, this was going to hurt like a bitch.

I switched Orthrus' flames for its ice and dragged it across the ground before swinging upward, sending forth a stream of ice in the demon's direction. It vanished to avoid the stream of ice and reappeared atop a lamppost. I sent a few Summoned Swords its way and watched it destroy them with ease. Its eyes glowed and went on the attack. Antares searched for it, bracing herself for the oncoming attack, but to her surprise it did not come for her but for me.

The moment I saw it materialize next to me, I grabbed its wrist as tightly as I could and ram Orthrus as deep as possible into its shoulder. The demon's eyes widened and promptly began to move.

I realized then what Antares meant about it "tearing through space"—actually, she had been downplaying it significantly. The whole world turned red: Rose, cherry, pink, cinnabar, chili, barn, cardinal, blood. All shades of red, swirling and mixing together like a distorted kaleidoscope. My stomach was doing flips. I did everything possible to keep my lunch from greeting me while maintaining a firm grip on the demon and my sword. Every few seconds the demon would stop and thrash around, trying to throw me off, then move again. All the while it was seemingly oblivious to the ice that was swallowing its arm.

"Freeze, damn you, FREEZE!"

After ten seconds of constantly moving and being thrown around like a rag doll clinging on for dear life, the trippy experience of being thrown through space-time at hyperspeed took its toll. As soon as the demon came to a stop it grabbed me by the throat and threw me aside, smacking me straight into a wall. My vision blurred for a few seconds. My head was spinning along with the world.

I heard Antares yell a battle cry, followed by the sound of ice shattering. My vision slowly came back into focus as I looked up to find the blonde Ward now holding Othrus and the demon slumped against a bent lamppost. It's entire left side was gone. Surrounding Antares were chunks of reddish-black chunks of ice.

"I'm borrowing this!" Antares called out to me. She winced momentarily, feeling the Devil's Arm judging her.

I remember Boss telling me that, even when turned into weapons, demons were finicky about who they obeyed. Orthrus in particular obeyed those who defeated him in single combat, willingly being a weapon for me to use when I defeated it. Antares, however, had not proven her worth. She was some stranger who grabbed Orthrus, thus the Devil's Arm reacted accordingly.

In this case, it would fight against her while she used it to fight the demon. A thin sheet of ice slowly encompassed her fingers.

I would have warned her about the dangers of using Orthrus, but I was so exhausted by my little trip to red land that I did not even have time to so much as give her a sound of disapproval before she jumped back into the fray. Unsurprisingly, the Bloody Cape did not have a single blade in its body. Another blade sprouted from its sole-remaining arm, countering her strike with its own.

From there, the game of cat and mouse continued. If the demon was inconvenienced by its newfound lack of a left limb, it did not show it or even mind; in fact, it seemed impressed that we somehow managed to do some real damage to it. It dashed about less and actually moved normally, struggling to keep itself grounded as it only dashed to avoid a blow or to get the surprise on Antares. It used its feet and claws to fight her alongside the sword growing out of its arm, showing that it was starting to take her seriously.

By contrast, Antares was proving why she has thought to be the second coming of Alexandria strength wise. Her punches shattered concrete and her kicks were kicking up drafts of wind. Her swings, while unrefined and clearly showing that she never used a sword in her life, were much stronger than what I could do. At one point, her swing managed to gouge out a decent-sized cut in the street. More often that not, her sword strikes managed to repel the demon's assault and give her ample time to deal some damage to the demon.

Unfortunately, as time moved on, it became clear that Antares, for as strong and powerful as she was, was running on fumes. By now, Orthrus covered up to her elbow in ice. I don't think she could let go of the Devil's Arm even if she wanted to. The frigid cold was affecting her considerably as her sword strikes and punches and kicks were getting sluggish. By contrast, the demon grew more excited. The damage dealt to its body, sporting several ice-covered gouges and slashes and cuts, seemed thrilled by the prospect of fighting a worthy adversary that could potentially kill it.

If Antares was moving slower, the Bloody Cape was moving faster.

I had to do something. I forced my body to move against its protests. Summoned Swords formed around me. I grabbed two of the Summoned Sword, holding them firmly in my hands and joined Antares once again.

The demon delivered a vicious roundhouse kick that knocked Antares away, and in the same movement, whirled around to block my swords as I brought them down. The Summoned Swords shattered on impact. The demon spun on its heel and went to decapitate me, but I brought myself down low and grabbed another pair of Summoned Swords, slamming my knee into its chest and ramming my swords as deep as possible into its open wounds. The demon kicked me away, but in the process, left itself open for Antares strike at its backside, carving open another wound.

It jumped away and disappeared in a red haze. By the time it reappeared behind me, ready to deliver a fatal blow, my Summoned Swords already materialized and intercepted the strike at my order. The blade was repelled and the swords shattered. Antares delivered a haymaker to its face, stunning it long enough for the both of us to slash away at its body. Black blood flew through the air with each slash. Just as I was about to ram another Summoned Sword through its body, it suddenly grabbed me by the face, lifted me into the air, and slammed me into the ground. I felt the concrete beneath my head shatter upon impact.

I felt my vision black out for just a second. The demon glared down at me, fangs bared and ready to bash my skull back into the ground, but before it could, Antares came in and shoved her knee straight into its face at full force, causing it to lose its grip on me and jump away.

"You okay?" the Ward asked.

I groaned in response, rising to my feet. "Yeah… You?"

"Peachy, except I'm freezing my tits off right now. Shit, what the hell kind of Tinker sword is this?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

The demon releasing an ear-piercing, bloodcurdling roar caused us both to freeze. Its eyes glowed like fire and vanished. Our surroundings filled with red haze, swirling around us as though were in the middle of a storm. Its form occasionally appeared within the tightening circle of red, but it vanished just as quickly as we saw it.

This was it, the final stage of the hunt. If this thing was not trying to kill us before, it sure as hell was now.

Antares and I huddled close, our backs touching each other. I looked over my shoulder, seeing Orthrus having now covered her entire arm in ice. If we didn't finish this quickly, she was going to end up with more than just a minor case of frostbite.

My grip tightened around my Summoned Swords. We had to end this now. I was half-demon, right? That meant I was slightly tougher than the run-of-the-mill cape. Why not put it to the test?

"Get ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?!" Antares demanded in confusion.

The demon pounced. It dashed out from the red haze and plunged its blade deep into my chest. Blood gushed from my mouth. I think I felt its blade slice into my lung. It felt so hard to breathe. The demon glowered wickedly at me, sneering almost as it withdrew its blade from its new fleshy sheathe. I grabbed it as it attempted to pull out.

"Antares, now!"

The Ward realized what I had planned, and in a swift motion, brought Orthrus down on the demon's arm, severing it from its elbow. The demon cried out in pain as it stumbled back. In spite of the agonizing pain I was in and the fact that its blade was still lodged in my body, I didn't stop. With all the strength I could muster, I poured all that I had into this one last act. I shoved the Summoned Swords in my hands into its neck and swung.

Black blood spewed across my face and on my visor. Some of it managed to find a way inside my mouth. It tasted foul and spicy all at once. The Bloody Cape's body went death still for a moment before its legs buckled and fell backwards, falling apart into dark embers and black specs that broke down into motes until there was nothing left. Even its decapitated head was not spared from this fate.

I stood still for a moment before falling flat on my back, gasping and coughing for air. My healing factor was kicking in now that the arm was gone, but holy fuck did it hurt. Seriously, why does healing hurt? I can literally feel my muscles pulling themselves back together and making new strands to make up for the ones that got ripped apart.

Antares fell on her rear, sweat caking her face. Somehow, she managed to relinquish her grip on Orthrus. The second the Devil's Arm was out of her hands and left on the ground next to her, the ice covering her arm fell apart and shattered upon impact.

Neither of us just said anything. We just laid there, processing what happened and the fact that we just survived a fight with the Bloody Cape of all things.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw a figure flying off. I think I saw them carrying someone, but I couldn't be sure. I hope that was Purity flying off with Rune.

"So…" Antares started. "That, uh…that happened…"

"Yeah…" I groaned.

"…you do realize I want answers, right?" she said while looking at me. "Like, who the hell are you anyway? And what the fuck is up with that sword?"

"Yeah…"

This was going to be a looong niiight…

Not gonna lie, I'm a little dissatisfied with how this fight went. Not sure what it is, but something about it just feels...meh.

Anyway, this came earlier than I was expecting. It would have been uploaded earlier, but I owed my fam food for all the help they've been giving me with re-arranging my room and setting up my first-ever gaming PC.

The next chapter will be the last chapter of the "Subhuman" arc, and after that is the Danny interlude. I'll hold off on the next arc until Adapt's "Occult" arc is also wrapped up.

By the way, regarding as to who or how many people died in the New Wave, whoever guesses correctly can ask me to write an omake. So long as it is within reason, of course.

Click to shrink...

 

[SkyRig]

So, I'll be honest. I have no confidence in writing a PHO forum segment. I asked for help a little while ago, and @Functionality gave me some advice. Said advice was:

Suggestion: for the PHO segment get a lot of people to roleplay as posters. Make an original post, and have them react to it from different points of view, copy-paste their responses and format accordingly

Click to shrink...

With this in mind...who's up for helping this dumbass make a forum post?

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♦ Topic: New Cape In Town
In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Brockton Bay
Tony Redgrave (Original Poster)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

Okay, so for those who don't know, literally two days ago, Winslow High School got sliced to pieces. The BBPD met the chick responsible, goes by some weird-ass name. Vergil, I think.

And last night, no fucking joke, I saw her hauling who may or may not have been Rune missing an arm, and not ten seconds later do I see her and Antares fight the scariest looking Case 53 ever. For those curious, link here.

Any idea if she's a new Empire Cape or a Ward?

 

[SkyRig]

It was a rather awkward, to be honest, returning to the Gates of Hell with Antares in tow. She never said anything during the whole time and was unusually quiet, almost as if she was contemplating something. I already called the Boss ahead of time to let him know I was bringing some company back with me.

We eventually reached the bar. I opened the door and stepped inside. I was about to call out to Boss, but I stopped myself when I saw that the bar was not as empty as I hoped. It closed for the day, but not for a specific clientele.

Specifically of the cape variety, as two familiar faces from the news were present at the counter. What made them stand out were the fact that they were wearing futuristic armor that looked quite familiar, and for good reason since it came from a video game. That alone told me who these two were.

Antares entered behind me and stopped, staring at the duo in shock. "What the…"

"Look, I'm telling you, we should totally go for a horror theme!" L33t said strongly. "I say we go for Left 4 Dead this time."

Über sighed and shook his head. "And I keep telling you, we should save that for October. Even if it is months away, zombies and monsters of the night should be saved for a night of spooks, kids, candy and scantily-clad babes."

"Tch! You would say that, you philistine!" L33t went to take a drink from his flask, but stopped when he noticed us. "Oh, fuck me."

"What's wrong, L33t? See something you-ah, son of a bitch."

The Boss looked up from his glass and chuckled. "You said you were bringing company, but you didn't say it was gonna be a Ward. Especially the 'Collateral Damage Barbie' people been warning me about since I set up shop here."

Though she wore a visor, I swore I saw her eyebrow twitch. "Oh for fuck's sake, when will people let that drop?! I've gotten better!"

"Mrs. Carmine would like to disagree with you on that," L33t chimed in, only to cower beneath her gaze. Given what we just went through, Antares was in no mood to deal with anyone's shit, and to be honest, neither was I. "Right, shutting up now. S-so, uh, are we-"

"Just fucking go, you idiots. I'm too tired to deal with you two."

L33t and Über stared at one another before they set down a few dollar coins on the counter. "Thanks again for the drinks, Boss Man," the latter said gratefully. "Say, any chance we could include you in a video sometime? The PHO won't shut up about what you did to Hookwolf."

"That depends, you boys gonna be planning any Nintendo themes escapades anytime soon?"

Really, Boss?



After the gaming capes left, Antares and I had the bar all to ourselves. Boss asked the Ward if she wanted anything, giving her a bottle and glass at her request. I was sure Antares was underage like I was, but I was not about to call her out on wanting to drink. Speaking personally, I felt a craving towards alcohol, but resisted because of the fact that I do not think Dad would appreciate finding me shit-faced. He told me how he had discovered how awful drinking could be while I was in my coma, saying he once woke up next to his own vomit.

After Antares had two swigs of her drink, she started asking questions. I answered them to the best of my ability, also careful not to give anything away.

"Wait, you mean to tell you me just started?" Antares looked utterly bewildered as she looked at me, unsure whether to be amazed or dumbfounded. "As in, tonight?"

I shrugged. "Technically? I mean, the first fight I got into was less than a week ago."

"…sooo, you're not-"

"No, I am not with the Empire. I am not a Neo-Nazi, thank you very much."

Antares nodded. "Okay, then. I'll guess I'll just put 'kind samaritan' in my report to Miss Militia when I get back." She paused and groaned, clearly not looking forward to making her report to the PRT. "I'm not sure who I want to deal with less, her or Gallant. Ugh, this fucking sucks…"

"Look at this way, kid," Boss offered. "At least the Fury's worth five hundred thousand in cash."

I nodded in agreement. The Bloody Cape had been active for so long and killed so many capes (more heroes than villains unfortunately) that a kill order was inevitable.

…wait, how much did Boss say its head was worth?

"Fury?" Antares frowned. "Is that what that asshole's name is?"

"More like it's species," Boss corrected her. "Those sumbitches used to be part of the Riot tribe, but they spent so many years honing their hunting skills they became one of the fastest demons in the Underworld. Only thing faster than those suckers is an Umbra Witch or a Blitz."

"Wait wait wait, time out. You mean to tell me that the Bloody Cape was a demon from hell? Like, the fire and brimstone hell? Helltaker kind of hell?"

Boss snorted. "You're thinking of Inferno. There's a big difference between Inferno and the Underworld, sister."

"Demon." Antares snorted. "Yeah, right. Next you'll tell me parahumans got their powers from Cthulu!"

I sighed. "Boss says they come from space monsters."

"…you wouldn't happen to be Void Cowboy from PHO, would you?"

"Sister, I don't go anywhere near social media unless it's for business and pleasure."

"Okay, say I do believe you. That the Bloody Cape is a monster from hell. How and why did it get here?"

Boss finished wiping his glass and set it down, turning his full attention to the Ward. "Lately, doorways have been popping up all over the place. Half the time it's the work of some satanic worshipping dumbass trying to lose his virginity, and other times, it's somebody who wants the world to end. For the most part the holes are pretty small, so the bottom feeders and weaklings trickle on in. Every now and then, though, the occasional big guy comes along, hitching for a ride on the hell express. My best guess is that the Fury came popping out of one of those holes."

"Why did it start hunting capes?" I asked out of curiosity. "Was it doing it because it's obeying someone or…?"

"I wish, kid. That thing was hunting for sport." I winced when I heard the sound of glass cracking. The shot glass in Antares' hand was straining from the grip she was putting on it. I imagined that something like a mere squeeze would cause it to shatter. "As far as the Fury was concerned, parahumans were like deer. Better yet, they were deer who could fight back. Kill it, even. For that thing, they were big game."

I felt sick to my stomach. If the Bloody Cape had been human, I would have felt much worse. I still felt like I would throw up, unable to wrap my head around the fact that thing had no other reason for killing except for fun.

"Are there any other Furies in Brockton Bay?" I asked almost dreading the answer.

To my relief, Boss smiled thinly. "Nah, the one you bagged tonight was the only one. That doesn't mean another one might pop up sometime in the near future, though." He glanced at the clock behind him. "Just 'bout time for me to close up shop for real. You better get going too, sister. I don't wanna have to explain to your dad why you were up and about this late."

"Yeah…"

I shuddered to think what Dad would do if he learned what I was up to. Forget him throwing a fit finding out I was playing hero, he would freak out and ground me for life if he ever learned I fought the worst serial killer in history since Jack the Ripper.

I stood up and was about to leave, but I noticed Antares was still at the counter. Her glass was untouched, which was probably for the best since it cracked all to hell and a hair's width away from falling apart into pieces. Her face was somber and contemplative, no doubt deep in thought. She probably thought that our talk of demons was loony, and I did not blame her. I felt the same at first when Boss told me demons existed, and I did not believe him until I saved Parian from Orthrus.

"…Stupid question, but are you doing okay?"

Antares did not respond at first, content with just staring back at the reflection of her in the shot glass before she sighed. "To be honest, I don't really know. I dreamed about murdering that son of a bitch for years, and now that he is dead, I…" She shook her head, sinking into her seat. "I thought it would make me feel better, or at least give me some sense of peace. I'm glad it's dead, but I feel…"

"Empty?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

I remember the feeling of pure, unadulterated hatred from when she found the Bloody Cape fighting me. Thinking on it now, I realized that hatred was not something as simple as being out of morality, but for personal reasons. Antares had lost someone close to her at the hands of the Fury.

"…who was it?" I asked quietly.

Antares smiled sadly. "My dad. He was the biggest dork ever, and maybe a little goofy when he wanted to be. He wasn't 'all there' some days, and he was never always the best dad, but he was there when it counted. Then, one day…" She paused and sucked in a breath, hands balling into tight fists. "It happened out of nowhere. Just your ordinary day in Brockton Bay, crime rampant and the PRT scrambling to get their shit together. It was my sis' birthday, you know? I came up with this awesome plan to get her to smile, and maybe to get my mom to loosen up. We left a cake shop, and we happened to run into my uncle and aunt and their kid along the way. We were going to throw a huge party and got ready to go home, and then…"

I knew where this was heading. "The Bloody Cape attacked your family?"

"My mom and sis were fine. So was my cousin, but he almost got himself killed. My dad and uncle?" she hissed. "My uncle got his spine severed. Paralyzed from the waist down and lucky to be alive, but my dad, he… He tried to fight the fucker off. He got hurt bad. Half his stomach got torn to pieces, his lung was punctured, and he had a hairline fracture across his skull. The doctors told us he had brain damage to boot." Antares let out a broken laugh. "Try to picture that for a second. Picture the doctors telling you that, after the worst night of your life, your dad wasn't going to make it. Picture your sis breaking down so badly she triggers right then and there and she happens to have a healing power of some kind. And it doesn't do a goddamn thing, because no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she begged, the wounds wouldn't fucking. Heal."

By now, her words were full of bitter anger. Inside her mind, she must have been reliving that day over and over in her head, obsessing over every detail and growing more infuriated. I said nothing, not willing to trust my words and unsure of what I could say to her. I knew the pain of losing a loved one and parent, but the circumstances were too different for me to offer any real words of comfort to her. What could I possibly say other than, I'm sorry for your loss?

Rather than trust my mouth to screw things up, I settled on putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. It was not much, but it was what I could do for her. Antares froze for a moment and looked up at me. For a moment, I thought I had overstepped my boundaries, but to my surprise, smiled back.

"…thanks. And, sorry about that. I didn't mean to go off on you like that."

"It's fine," I assured her. "It isn't healthy, keeping personal baggage like that bottled up for so long."

"Speaking from personal experience?" I nod. "Huh." Antares looked back at the shot glass and the bottle for a moment before she grimaced. "You know what? Fuck it. Don't care if mom or Amy tears me a new one." After saying that, she grabbed the bottle by the neck and-

Oh boy.

As soon as I saw Antares down the contents of the bottle, promptly becoming shit-faced and likely to wake up with the world's worst hangover, I knew then and there I should have left when I had the chance. No sooner had I watched her down the bottle was I forced to sit there and listen to her rant on and on about her home life and her boyfriend. The highlight of her rant in my opinion was how somebody named Amy and Paige should just "shut up and fuck each other already".

I listened to her rant for an hour before the alcohol finally got to her and she passed out. Which, of course, left me to call someone from her phone and inform her she was dead-ass drunk and asleep in the bar before making my exit.

This wasn't how I expected my night to end in all honesty, but I had to admit, it was a little fun.

…I could deal without blades being shoved into my chest, though. That fucking hurt.


♦ Topic: New Cape In Town
In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Brockton Bay
Tony Redgrave (Original Poster)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

Okay, so for those who don't know, literally two days ago, Winslow High School got sliced to pieces. The BBPD met the chick responsible, goes by some weird-ass name. Vergil, I think.

And last night, no fucking joke, I saw her hauling who may or may not have been Rune missing an arm, and not ten seconds later do I see her and Antares fight the scariest looking Case 53 ever. For those curious, link here.

Any idea if she's a new Empire Cape or a Ward?


FireLord69 (Verified Seer)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

Good that The Littlest Nazi got her arm sliced off, maybe it'll help her decide to not be a Nazi. Rune is young enough to turn her life around, right? Anybody know? As for the new Cape, I'm going to guess Independent. Seems too Heroic for the Empire, and too stabby for the Wards.


Judgement_Nut (Motivational speaker)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Wait a second...Red streaks, almost Killed capes..is that the Bloody Cape they're fighting?!


XxVoid_CowboyxX (Temp-Banned)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Props to Vergil for doing what everybody else wanted to and destroying Winslow. That place was a cesspit.

Wonder if she's single?

Wait... She kind of looks like <Redacted- you've been warned before about speculation about cape identities. Have an infraction - TinMother>


Dgaters
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Seriously Void, you gotta stop. It's a wonder how the hell you haven't been perma banned.

Jokes aside, for once I agree. Whoever Vergil is, I will honest to god thank her in person for taking down Winslow. As for the Case-53, damn that thing was wicked fast. Mover 5 at least.

...wait, did they seriously just kill it?! Holy shit! Is-is that allowed?


PaperChild
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011

Two new capes in town, one especially freaky Case53 and the other stabhappy. Yay.

At least Nazis got their Mover down?

EDIT: Case53 is dead. Whoops, didn't see that at first. At least it's not gonna run around and kill people, I guess.


Whiskas (Not actually a cat food brand)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

Well damn, that's one scary fella right there. Wouldn't want to bump into him in a dark alley I'll tell you that much. We don't know the context for the situation so there's no telling if it's a temporary alliance between Antares and this Vergil of unknown allegiance or if they're on the same side. Saving Rune could have been done out of basic human decency really. I know she's a neo-nazi and all but I wouldn't leave anyone to the tender mercies of whoever this lovely Case 53 is.

Actually, wait... could that be the Bloody Cape? If so... the status quo just got shifted mighty fine I believe.

Another lovely day in the Bay, eh my fellow Brocktonites?


Cyberdong (TTS fanboy)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

There's no way the new cape is a hero! She destroyed a school and rescued an Empire cape! Granted, Winslow was a low-quality school, but its still a school. "Vergil" needs to be arrested.

Also, I second the motion on Rune hopefully turning her life around. We needs more heros.


Dgaters
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Normally I would agree with you, but the school in question was WINSLOW. Even the school district was happy to see that place get sliced and diced.


Whiskas (Not actually a cat food brand)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

@Cyberdong
I hope you don't mind if I point out the rampant hypocrisy in this statement. Rune is a literal nazi with a rap sheet that's probably longer than my arm and you want her to turn her life around but you're dissing Vergil for actually saving her so she could presumably do it? Did you really think through that statement? And it's probably a net positive Winslow got destroyed. All the gangs recruited from it, teens from any of those gangs could pull a knife or probably even a gun on you and no one would bat an eye. I heard from a friend that even the frickin' school district itself is glad that it's gone.

We know too little about Vergil to judge her possible motivations yet. Give it some time. Don't railroad her into being a villain already because you're convinced she can't be given a chance. That's how you make even more villains.

Edit: Fixed minor spelling issue.


Cyberdong (TTS fanboy)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Wait, seriously? I haven't been in a high school for 40 years, so I have no clue what the situation is. All I know about Winslow is that it was allegedly a bad school.


FireLord69 (Verified Seer)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

According to my kid the place was a cesspool. So glad I teach at Arcadia.


Cyberdong (TTS fanboy)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Well damn.

Okay, maybe I jumped the gun. You have a point. I was wrong.


Dgaters
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Winslow aside, if that really is the Bloody Cape, then something tells me I'm going to sleep a whole lot better. Well, as better as I can get in Brockton Bay.

Now that I think about it, doesn't the Bloody Cape have a kill order?


Whiskas (Not actually a cat food brand)
Posted on Feb. 16, 2011:

@Cyberdong
It's all fine friend. Just please consider the situation through first before you act. You'd get dog piled in other threads instantly if you spoke like that before thinking.

@Dgaters
That they do, that they do. I feel like Vergil and Antares just earned themselves a lot of money. I think the collective bounty the Bloody Cape collected over the years was getting up to an eight figure number but don't quote me on that.

The nightlife might become... more alive, I suppose. It's been pretty dead for a decade now. Might be nice to go out and celebrate at the Palanquin now that I won't have to worry about being eviscerated by it. If it is the Bloody Cape. No confirmation from PRT for now Brocktonites. Could have just been a really murder happy new Case 53. Or a Changer I suppose.


Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

The paperwork is still being processed, but yes, they will have a kill order soon.

It is possible that the cape seen in the video was the Bloody Cape, but that is officially uncertain at this moment. Investigation is currently underway.


Millerite Incarnate (Verified schoolteacher and learning enthusiast)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011

@Cyberdong
Glad to see that you have the maturity to own your mistakes.

And yes, Winslow was that bad. I've heard rumors that the school board already wanted to demolish and rebuild Winslow, and everyone's glad that we can rebuild Winslow to be a better school.


Tony Redgrave (Original Poster)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

If that Case-53 is confirmed to be the Bloody Cape, then it's safe to say the families of its victims will be happy to hear the good news.

On an unrelated note, what do the Wards think about the new girl?


Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied on Feb. 16, 2011:

Eh, she seems kind of cool. I'm digging the sword, though. Kid Win's having a field day trying to figure it out. I'd love to meet the Tinker who made it.

End of page. (1, 2, 3...9, 10)​

(Showing page 5 of 10)


Antares (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied on Feb. 17, 2011:

Since people keep badgering me about the new girl and whether or not she wants to join the Wards, she told me she wants to get some experience first. Honestly, I hope she considers joining up. Kid's got spunk.

Plus, I like her jacket. I'd love to meet the designer.


FireLord69 (Verified Seer)
Replied on Feb 17, 2011:

Huh, well she seems like she'd be fine on her own. Still always good to have more Heroes.

 

[SkyRig]

Jan. 4th​, 2011
The moment Danny got a call from the hospital he dropped everything. He told none of his workers what happened or even his boss why he was leaving; his mind was in too much of a chaotic whirlwind. He didn't hear them calling out to him in confusion or concern. The only thing he heard was what the doctor on the phone told him. It was on a loop, repeating over and over, driving the guilt further into his chest.

"Oh god, please, not again."

It felt like he was reliving the worst moment of his life. It was the same as it was before, getting a phone call from someone at the hospital while he was at work.

The drive to Brockton Bay General Hospital was ten minutes minus traffic. Danny made it in six, speeding the whole time. Getting a speeding ticket was the least of his concerns.

After he explained to the nurse at the front desk who he was, the poor woman able to understand him in the middle of his unintelligible babbling, he was taken to a room further in.

Taylor, his pride and joy, the only family he had left, was lying on a bed, hooked up to a machine that kept beeping loudly. A tube was stuck to her arm, connected to a bag filled with fluids. Her skin was deathly pale, and she looked like she was asleep.

"We found her when we went to talk to the principal," Murphy told him. The man looked at Taylor with a haunted expression. Danny knew why. Like him, he had lost his wife a few years ago and his daughter was only six or seven. Seeing Taylor like this must have made him imagine what it would be like if that had been his daughter in there, and he did not like the image at all. "She was inside her locker. Must have been in there for hours."

Danny felt sick. "Why was she trapped inside her own locker?" he asked desperately. He felt the infamous Hebert family anger building inside his chest. "And why is she on an IV?"

"The locker was…" Murphy dragged a hand down his face. "God, I don't even know how to describe it. Someone dumped the contents of the waste bin in the girls' bathroom in there, let it sit for a couple of days, then they shoved her inside."

The anger increased tenfold. "Who?"

He wanted to punch someone. More than that, he was ready to break somebody's neck. You didn't just somehow get yourself trapped inside your own locker. Someone pushed her daughter in there. He didn't care if it was a teacher or a student or even Lung that did this. Someone was going to pay.

"We don't know. Blackwell wasn't keen on talking when we told her we were there to ask about Taylor. Clammed up and said she skipped all her afternoon classes." Murphy looked at Danny with a pained expression. "I gotta be honest with you, Dan. I don't think we'll be able to do much."

"And why the fuck not?!" Danny demanded.

Murphy glared back. "You know why! We live in one of the worst cities in the U.S., Danny! Every day, we got phone calls about gang shootings, overdoses and capes running around blowing shit up! We do not have enough manpower, not enough people, not enough cops! If I told my C.O. that we got some kid who almost died because of some prank gone wrong, he's going to tell me to forget about it. As far as he's concerned, she's a statistic."

Danny's shoulders shook with rage. He wanted to scream at Murphy, but he knew his friend was right. Brockton Bay had all sorts of problems, ranging from business droughts and the overgrowth of the criminal element to the capes that made everyone's lives a living hell. The PRT was outnumbered and facing a war from all sides, whether it was dealing with the Azn Bad Boys and Lung or Kaiser's Empire Eighty-Eight. In between all of this was the cops, normal men and women who had to deal with the beginning of the shitstorm caused by cape fights and the aftermath, especially when the PRT couldn't be bothered to deal with the Merchants.

Murphy was a good man. He had been his neighbor for twelve years now and was the guy who tried to save Annette's life. He even babysat Taylor on a few occasions.

His anger dissipated slightly as he turned away and looked back at Taylor. His baby girl and the only thing he had left.

Danny knew deep down that this was his fault. He had seen the signs: Her coming home looking miserable, keeping her head low and not looking him in the eye. The noncommittal answers she gave when he asked her how her day had been. How things were going at school. When he got her report card in the mail, he saw her grades. She used to be an A's and B's student, but at some point her grades went to hell. Missing homework assignments and poor test results. Some days Danny caught her washing her clothes, which had stains on them. She even bought a new backpack, even though the one she had been using since the start of the school year was brand new. It had apparently been torn up and splattered with something.

But never once did he think to ask what happened. He was still in grief about what happened with Annette. Some days he thought she had come home, seeing her image right next to Taylor every time she walked through the front door. He was so wrapped up in his problems that he didn't notice what was happening to Taylor—to his daughter.

And now here she was, lying on a hospital bed, in a medically-induced coma of all things.

All because he didn't do anything.

"…what am I going to do?"

Murphy looked at Danny before he sighed. "I don't know. I can't tell you what to do. But, you want my advice?" He looked up at Murphy almost pleadingly. "Get her out of Winslow. Transfer her to another school or something."

"How? I-I can't hire a private tutor for her, I don't even have enough money to send her to Immaculata, Clarendon is barely better than Winslow, and Arcadia's…"

"The alternative's are better than that shithole, Danny." Murphy shook his head and went towards the door. "Look, I'll try and see if I can convince my Sergeant to open a case about Taylor, but I can't make any promises, Danny."

"…thanks, Murphy. I owe you one."

Murphy scoffed. "In that case, buy me a beer next time. I hear a new place opened up downtown. Called the Gates of Hell. You should give it a shot."

Danny stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. He had never touched alcohol before, having seen what it did to parents and people. Yet when he looked back at Taylor's unconscious body, a reminder of his failures, the taste was suddenly very tempting…


The Gates of Hell was a lot fancier than he expected. If anything, it looked more like a ritzy dance club than a bar. Jazz music played softly over the roaring cheers and talks of the patrons already drinking the night away. Some were wearing gang colors. On one end of the bar was a group of ABB kids, but they were more concerned about seeing who could get more shitfaced than picking a fight with the E88 goons sitting not far away from them.

That surprised Danny, seeing as how the owner of the establishment was a black man. Bald, built like a wrestler and tattoos over his face. For some reason he was wearing black sunglasses while it was clearly nighttime and while indoors.

"Welcome to the Gates of Hell, brother," the owner greeted Danny as he walked up to the counter. "What'll you have?"

"Something light, please." Danny didn't know what his alcohol tolerance was like, so immediately asking for something strong like whiskey was a bad idea in his head.

The owner nodded and put a shot glass down in front of him, followed by a bottle. The cap was more or less ripped off than screwed off. Danny watched as the owner filled up the glass. The liquid inside the shot glass smelled rancid, and at the same time, sweet.

"First time's on the house. After this, you gotta pay."

Danny nodded and thanked the bar owner before he took the shot glass in his hand and poured it down his throat. He immediately regretted that decision as he swallowed the bile down, coughing haphazardly while his throat burned.

The owner looked amused. "First time drinking alcohol?"

"Y-yeah!" Tears stung in Danny's eyes. Christ, and people drank stuff like this like it was going out of style? Perhaps it was a good thing he chose not to get into that lifestyle. "God, it hurts…"

"It'll get better. Just drink in moderation, man. I get enough drunks as is, especially with these posers in my shop."

The owner walked away from Danny to work on another customer. The grieving father stared back at the bottle and empty shot glass in front of him. A moment later, he filled it again.

Some time later, after having taken three shots and coughing up a lung, Danny felt someone approaching him from behind. He looked over his shoulder and blinked.

"Alan? Alan Barnes, is that you?"

The last time Danny had seen Alan was during Annette's funeral. If he had seen the man anytime since, he couldn't recall the encounter, being in his bad headspace. He could remember how thin Alan had been; not as thin as he was, but still lacking any sort of fat on his body. At some point, Alan must have let himself go because the man in front of Danny barely looked like a well-respected lawyer.

His chin was covered in fuzz, a salt-and-pepper-styled beard with dark rings under his eyes. His hair had grown out, slightly messy but kempt enough to look presentable. He was also sporting a large belly, not too large but noticeable enough that it was hanging over his belt.

"Danny?" Alan blinked and stared at Danny for a moment before a smile broke over his face. "Holy shit! It's been ages. How have you been? Last time we met was…"

"Annette's funeral, yeah," Danny nodded. "I've…I'm going through some shit. I needed a fucking drink for the first time in my life, and I'm regretting immensely. And what about you? You look…" He trailed off, not entirely what to say to Alan out of fear it would come off as rude or condescending.

For his part, Alan wasn't the least bit insulted. "Like shit? Trouble in paradise, same as every other couple I deal with. Zoe and I have been arguing lately. About Emma."

"Emma? What happened?"

"We, er, had an incident while back. Emma got jumped by a couple of ABB thugs." Danny stared at his old friend in horror. Before he could assume the worst, Alan held up a hand. "She's fine! She got a few cuts and bruises, but she's fine. She got saved by Shadow Stalker."

Danny furrowed his brow. "Shadow Stalker? Isn't she that new Ward? The one that went on the vigilante bent?"

"You mean the crazy-ass one? Yeah, that'd be her." Alan sighed. At some point without Danny noticing, he had paid the bar owner and gotten himself a glass and a bottle. The smell coming from Alan's shot glass was acrid, much stronger than the weak stuff he was drinking. "I'm grateful for what she did, saving my kid and all, but ever since, Emma's been acting…weird."

"Weird how?"

"Last time I tried asking her about when she and Taylor were going to have a sleep-over like they did in middle school, she flipped out. I've never seen her act like that before." He shook his head. "It's the weirdest thing. Now that I think about it, she's been acting weird ever since she started going to Winslow."

"It is a shitty school."

Alan paused, then snorted. "Touché. Speaking of Taylor, how is she?" Danny went quiet. Alan looked at his old friend in concern. "Danny?"

"…Taylor's in the hospital." The lawyer choked and stared. Danny glared at the glass in his hand—at his own disgusting reflection. "She was trapped inside her own locker full of stuff from the waste bin in the girls' bathroom. She was in there for a day. A full goddamn day. And not a single person did a fucking thing to get her out."

Alan opened and closed his mouth, unintelligible noises falling out from his throat. The man looked as if he was in total disbelief, skin pale in horror. That had been his reaction too. Shaking his head, Danny downed the glass and coughed, the booze scorching his throat. Was it just his imagination, or was the room getting warmer? He felt like his own tie was suffocating him.

"…what are you going to do?" Alan asked him quietly.

Danny slammed the glass down on the table.

"I want someone to pay."


Jan. 5th​, 2011
Whatever anger and frustration Danny had felt yesterday paled in comparison to the white-hot fury that ripped from his throat and manifested as an unholy scream.

"Well," Alan said glumly. "That could have gone better."

The two had left Amanda Blackwell's office, one stomping down the halls and the other following behind him. Danny had asked—no, begged him to help him out and find a way to deal with this. The two talked over drinks (which Danny regretted the morning after when he found himself lying face-down on the floor of his own living room with a pool of dried-up vomit not two feet away from him) and came up with the idea to get answers from Blackwell herself. She was in charge of the school and was the highest authority in Winslow, the teachers answered to her, so she had to know something.

The "meeting" did not go well. Blackwell had denied any and all attempts at questioning, claiming she knew nothing about the bullying. She even had the gall to try and play the sympathetic card, offering to pay Taylor's medical expenses.

Danny knew what it was the moment she pitched the deal. Hush money. She knew something and didn't want it getting out. He wasn't sure what made him angrier: The fact that Blackwell knew who may or may not have been the ones to shove Taylor into the locker or that she was trying to keep him quiet. At the very least, he did the first sensible thing a parent could do in a long while and tell Blackwell that Taylor was not going to be attending Winslow anymore. He didn't care if he had to make loans or put himself in debt; one way or another, Taylor was getting out of this god-forsaken hellhole of a school.

"We can build a case," Alan told him. Danny stopped and turned to look at him. "I know it's not the perfect solution, but we can try and file a lawsuit against Winslow and Blackwell."

"How?" Danny demanded. "Dammit Alan, you're the lawyer here. You know how many parents and people tried to do that against this place! Almost every single one of them suddenly went dead when some dumbass decided it would be a good idea to continue funding it!"

"True, but that was because of gang violence. This is different, Danny. A girl was shoved in a locker filled with all sorts of disgusting filth and is sitting in a coma. More importantly, it was at the hands of fellow students, and it happened here at school, where the teachers are supposed to be keeping an eye out of crap like this."

Alan raised a good point. The lawsuits against the school were always about the gang violence, either because a student was affiliated with a gang or because gang fighting spilled out and got far too close to Winslow. Some shootings even occurred on school grounds when a bunch of dumb kids who thought they were hardcore gangbangers opened fire on each other. With how often incidents like that kept happening, it was a wonder why Winslow hadn't been shut down by this point. There were so many people suing the school that, by all rights, Blackwell should have had her neck buried in legal actions.

And yet, somehow, all of those lawsuits turned mute. Winslow continued to function, kids went to the school and every day parents worried whether or not something would happen and would never see their child again.

Danny knew that Alan's idea had merit, but who was to say that this case would stick? What guarantees did he have that this wouldn't also fall as suddenly as it stood?

"Mr. Barnes?"

A teacher stepped out from his office. At least Danny assumed he was. He looked young, early to mid twenties, short and wore a pinstripe suit with a red tie and dress shirt.

"Samuel," Alan greeted. "Been a while."

'Samuel' smiled slightly. "Last we spoke was during the teacher-parent meeting back, what, four months ago?"

Danny winced at the mention of the meeting. He had been absent that day, both because Taylor never said anything about it (or maybe she had and he was half-assed paying attention) and even if he did know about it, his work kept him from going. An incident at the docks involving one of his workers getting himself hurt by way of a welder wouldn't let him leave even if could.

"It was." Alan gestured to Danny. "Danny, this is Samuel Gladly. Sam, this is Danny Hebert. You might know him as the stubborn bastard from the Dock Worker's Union."

"Hebert?" Gladly's eyes widened slightly. "By any chance, would you happen to be-"

"Taylor's father?" Danny replied icily. His words were more bitter than he intended them to be, but it made Gladly squirm when he realized what he was dealing this. "The girl that's sitting at Brockton Bay General Hospital in a coma? Yes, I am."

"I-I see…"

Danny was almost tempted to walk up to Gladly and demand answers. Beat them out of him if he had to. This was one of the people who let his students get away with bullying Taylor and left her to die. If Blackwell wouldn't give him what he wanted, he could settle for the next best thing.

He took a step forward, almost menacingly. As though sensing his intention, Alan grabbed his shoulder and shook his head. That's too far, his eyes seemed to convey.

"Mr. Hebert," Gladly spoke again, this time in a more meek fashion. He glanced around the halls as if wondering if someone was watching them or eavesdropping before he sighed. "Might we speak in private?"

Danny glowered at the man. "About what, exactly?"

"About your daughter."

The lawyer and dock worker shared a look before they followed Gladly into his office. As soon as they were all inside, Gladly locked the door behind him and pulled on a cord, folding the blinders shut. Before Danny could even attempt to demand answers from the man, Gladly walked over to his desk and kneeled down, pulling out a cardboard box from underneath and set it down atop the table.

He peered inside and found several folders, each labeled with dates and names. Over half were labeled "Taylor Hebert."

Alan looked at Gladly. "What is this?"

"This," the teacher gestured to the box. "Is a list of complaints and notifications from Taylor about her bullying, all the way back to January of last year. Mrs. Knott and myself compiled them ourselves."

Danny went deathly still. Had he heard that correctly?

Alan, on the other hand, looked furious. "Last year? You mean to tell me that Taylor's been bulled since she started schooling here?!"

His hands grabbed a random folder from the box. Neither Gladly or Alan seemed to notice, too engrossed in their conversation. He opened up the folder and saw a crumpled paper inside. The handwriting was Taylor's. She had beautiful penmanship, just like Annette, but the writing on the paper was sloppy. He saw a few stains (tears?) scattered around the paper.

"Why the hell didn't you do anything?!" Alan demanded angrily. "You had to have noticed something!"

"I did!" Gladly hissed. "I asked Taylor if she needed help, and she told me she didn't! I thought it was hazing! Kids bully each other all the time!"

"You call being shoved and trapped inside a locker full of shit hazing?! She could have died!" The man's cheeks were red with anger. "If you know who did this, then fess up!"

"You don't have to." Alan looked at Danny. His tone, so full of anger, had become deathly quiet and calm. His eyes, on the other hand, were smoldering and his hands were shaking. "Taylor named them."

Wordlessly, he handed the paper over to Alan. The man looked it over, reading every word, then stopped. His eyes went wide. Shock ran all across his face, spluttering in disbelief.

As they looked through more of the complaints Taylor made, Alan's face lost more and more color until he turned completely white.

In each and every paper she wrote regarding the bullying, begging and pleading for the faculty to do something, two names were always mentioned. Danny had no idea who Sophia Hess was, but he recognized the other name easily enough.

It would be hard not to, considering she was Alan's daughter and Taylor's best friend.

Emma Barnes.


Alan and Danny separated after their business with Winslow concluded. His friend had gone deathly quiet, never once saying a word and looking as if he was getting older by the second. At first he had been in disbelief, saying that it couldn't have been Emma. Danny agreed with him. Taylor and Emma had been as thick as thieves growing up. They hit it off almost immediately when they met at the playground, and on more than one occasion when Emma slept at the Hebert household, he had caught the two invading the kitchen in an Ice Cream Raid, aided by his traitorous wife.

The complaints Taylor made to the teachers spoke of a completely different Emma Barnes. Whereas the Emma Danny recalled was the boldest little thing but at the same time shy as a mouse, the Emma Taylor spoke of was cold and callous. One complaint in particular stuck out in his mind, where Emma had apparently taken Taylor's flute, defaced it and smashed it to pieces. Taylor didn't own a flute, but her mother did. One time, Taylor had shown it to Emma and the girl held it with a sense of appreciation and gentleness.

Between Danny and Alan, the former wasn't sure who was shocked more by the development. Either way, he found himself once again at the Gates of Hell, drinking and burning his throat and attempting to get shit-faced. He idly wondered if it meant he would wake up in a pool of his own vomit this time around.

He still couldn't believe that this had been going on for a year. A whole year of bullying, and she never said a word to him. She endured a year of hell, done at the hands of her own best friend and someone else, and she didn't tell him anything. A part of Danny felt angry towards Taylor, but not out of malice. He was angry at her for not telling him about the bullying. He could have put a stop to all of this, gotten her away from that fucking school sooner, so why didn't she tell him?!

Another part of him, the one that looked back at him in disgust every time he saw his reflection, told him why. The school hadn't done anything to help her. Why would he? He didn't notice the small tell-tale signs or the times she did try to tell him something, but didn't. She couldn't trust him because he couldn't pull his head out of his ass sooner.

That hurt worse than the day Annette died.

Danny took a long swig of alcohol straight from the bottle instead from the shot glass. The bar owner whistled. "Damn. Rough day, brother?"

"Try a fucking shitshow of epic fucking proportions," Danny growled. There was a slight slur in his speech, telling him that he was either already drunk or he was close to getting there. "Ever had one of those days where you felt like stringing some bastard up, even when the bastard might be you?"

"Can't say that I have. That bad?"

"Yeah. That bad."

Danny took another drink. The burn was slowly ebbing away and his head began to throb in pain. He felt a small vibration in his pants pocket. In spite of his personal feelings about owning a cell phone, Danny bought one for work purposes in case someone at the docks requested his help. He removed his cell from his pants pocket and looked at the caller ID, lips curling in distaste.

Alan was the last person he wanted to hear from right now.

He answered the call and pressed the cell up to his ear. "Whatever it is you want to say, I-"

"Someone recorded it."

Danny's brain went dead. "…excuse me?"

"I went back to Winslow and grilled one of the teachers," Alan growled. "Some asshole by the name of Quinlan saw the whole thing but didn't say a thing about it. She sang like a jailbird soon as I mentioned the lawsuit, said a couple kids recorded the whole fucking thing on their cellphones. One of them is a kid named Greg Veder. I just got done talking to him. I've got a copy of the video."

His mouth went dry. "And…?"

"…it's a whole lot worse than hearing about it. That's all I can say." There was a mixture of grief and anger in Alan's voice. "I knew something about Emma changed. I just thought it was nothing since she didn't act out or anything. I told Zoe that she didn't need therapy. I-" The poor man choked. "God fucking dammit, how could I not notice?"

Danny looked at the bottle in his hand. His reflection stared back at him expectant.

"…same reason I didn't notice anything, Alan. We're both horrible parents." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, setting the money for his drink on the counter and walking out the door. "What now?"

"Now?" Alan scoffed. "Now, Blackwell is going to regret her life choices. Taylor's complaints, plus video evidence?"

"Alan-"

"I know, okay?!" Alan barked. "I know this whole thing involves my daughter. It's going to be a conflict of interest. That's why I'm handing this off to a friend of mine."

"Who?"

"Ever heard of Carol Dallon?"

Danny's eyebrows went up. "The parahuman lawyer? The one that handed the Bad Canary case a while back? Isn't this a little out of her field of expertise?"

"No, she specializes in dealing with parahumans. Doesn't mean she can't deal with a school. I'll get in touch with her tomorrow and let you know what happens."

The call ended there. Danny stared at his phone, blinking and wondering what the hell just happened. When Alan called him, he was expecting him to suddenly cut off all ties with him and try to defend Emma. Make it so this whole thing disappeared under the rug. It's what he would have done if he found out Taylor was involved in all this. Sure, he'd be disappointed in her, but she was his daughter. He'd give the whole world if it meant she could be safe.

If Alan was serious about going through with this, Emma was likely to face charges. She'd be lucky if she ended up on probation instead of Juvenile Hall. So why was he…?

I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, should I?

Danny shook his head and sighed, running his fingers across his scalp.

This was turning out to be a shitty week.


Jan. 13th​, 2011
Taylor hadn't changed.

The doctors told her that her condition was stable, but there were still no signs of when or if she woke up. Danny thought it was optimistic of him to think she would be awake by now, but he hoped that she'd be sitting there, eyes open and her eyes the first thing he'd see when he walked into the room she was in.

Instead, he saw what he swore was Annette, only younger. Every passing day, it seemed as if Taylor was looking more and more like her mother.

"Hey, kiddo."

Taylor said nothing.

Danny sat on the chair next to her bed. "Sorry I haven't been around to visit lately. I've…been very busy lately. I've been thinking about a lot of stuff. And dealing with a lot of stuff."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"So, um… I've got some good news for you. I know this might not mean much to you, but I… You won't have to attend Winslow anymore. I've pulled you out. Alan's helping me out with paperwork for Arcadia when you wake up."

'When.' It was funny how he was holding onto such lofty hopes. But it was all he had left, really.

She was all he had left.

"I can't promise it'll be better than Winslow. I've met a few of the teachers, they seem nice enough I guess?" Danny looked at Taylor for a minute before groaning. "I suck at this, don't I? I really did pick the worst time to start acting like a dad, huh?"

If Annette was still here, she would never have let this happen. Hell, she would have kicked his ass if it did.

"I wish you were here…" Danny murmured sadly. "You would have known what to do."

He gently brushed his finger against Taylor's cheek. Her skin was getting color back, so that was a good sign. Looking more closely, Danny realized how much his daughter was starting to look like his late wife. Give her a few more years, and she'd be-

"What the hell?"

Danny stared in confusion, his fingers pinching a small bundle of hairs.

When did Taylor dye white streaks in her hair?