Dantalion
Insight: 368
- Location
- A Guest Room at the Brass Embassy, dying of Frenzy
- Pronouns
- Any
Looks to be the last line of the SV signature, right below 'Collaborations stuffs: ...'.
Last edited:
Eden's Edge (Worm/Sonnie's Edge [Love, Death, and Robots])
- Location
- United States
Sorry about that! I think I just derped out. I can see it now. And in answer, I think that you are able to see the signature without logging in. Unless I am mistaken?
Sköll
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
A casual day on the job.
Special thanks to my lovely co-author and wife, @hellgodsrus, without whom I would never would have been able to take part in creating half my fics, and our girlfriend @SolarFlare for being awesome and also betaing! Also special thanks Prime Betas @Tamahori and @32nd_freeze and @Ganurath for being betas and feeding me validation and feedback between updates! Excitement!
Also @SolarFlare for Flare and writign this interlude with us!
Sköll
-.-.-
Taylor owes me a new autograph pad. And New Wave autographs.
Tonight had been… a thing. Vicky's aura… Lindsay didn't really have words to put it in. The best way she'd come up with was the emotional equivalent of standing in front of a campfire, but it was so much more than that. Taylor knew who she was too. That… was awkward. Things only got weirder after that. She'd about to open the door, and then suddenly she was on a folding cot in one of the back rooms, and her utility belt was broken.
Lilith had told her what happened while she was out. Fucking Panacea trying to break in - again, after that incident Lacey still wouldn't tell her about. Lindsay definitely needed to upgrade her gear some more. First off, no exposed skin, which meant that gas mask lower half to help mask her voice (the built in amplifier was a bonus), and probably some kind of neck and head cover.
And Tammi possibly being Rune, of all people. Can't believe I thought she was cute… No, confirm first, then hate.
She wished she could watch the fights instead of patrol. She understood why and everything, it was just - so boring watching people enjoy themselves and being unable to join in. The Arena itself was completely closed off, so nobody could just get binoculars and watch from the window of a tall building, but even if they weren't here for the fights, the surrounding streets had become a sort of carnival of its own. There were even rumours going around the Dockworkers that they were in talks with a travelling circus or performing group or something about renting some of the space like they'd done for all the stalls past the main gate.
Flare sighed and looked away from the incredibly appetising gyro stall, turning her attention back to the cold dead streets of the Brockton Bay Docks. No point in ordering one now. She'd just get sauce all over her gloves, and needing to stop to put them back on would waste valuable time. Getting the metal inserts in and out so they could be washed without putting dents in the dryer was a bitch and a half.
Maybe it was just first-night jitters. Saturday would surely go better, right?
-.-.-
It hadn't. But on the other hand, the merch table now had a bunch of limited edition 'Hookwolf's Loss Keyrings'. One of the Dockworkers knew how to do metal casting and molds - she melted, he shaped, and now she proudly wore a Hookwolf MoonMoon keyring on her belt loop.
-.-.-
Sunday had been a pain for non-Nazi reasons for once, a group of teenagers being drunk and problematic. Not gang-related, just - idiot asshole teenagers, probably from Winslow, heckling the boss and being sexist pigs. At least they backed the fuck off quick enough when they realised there was a cape behind them.
Assault had stopped by shortly after, relaying the story that the kids had told, and appropriately believing it to be bullshit since none of them had charcoaled bits. He even bought a few keyrings while he was by.
-.-.-
Monday she spent the whole day asleep. With the gang war heating up, Arcadia administration wanted to either keep the students safe, or the identity of the Wards safe, since the teen heroes had been out in force lately. Didn't really matter to Lindsay, she was tired and gladly took the time off to catch up. She could come back in on Tuesday for lunch, if school was still out.
-.-.-
Wrestling is scripted. Apparently, so are kaiju fights.
Below her, two forms circled each other, each 'winners' from the previous evening, hastily repaired for an 'after action checkup' and hasty rehearsal for the next show. From next week on, they'd be doing three nights of fights a week with a smaller, rotating 'cast'.
On the left, half-hidden by the catwalk, was Seton. A lengthy fur-lined neck, matted from nutrient fluid and injuries from the previous night, topped with a feline face, cheeks fat and scaled. Large webbed feet - three full pairs, with another pair curled up against the sinuous line of the torso.
On the right was Knifehead, who looked like nothing so much as a rhino and a shark had been badly superimposed on each other, and then someone had added dinosaur-like claws. The eyes were narrow, yellow, the arms splitting at the elbow into four hands.
Behind each were their current controllers. Sam (another Dockworker, not Sam her cape friend) was crouched in a squat like someone doing side-street gambling. Nessa had opted for a cross-legged meditation pose. Each had a heavy frame draped over their upper bodies, culminating in a helmet that looked rather like it had been made out of a colander, seaweed, and the interior of an AC unit.
Lindsay knew there was a script, but not what it was. So she put her imaginary bets on Knifehead. It'd won the previous night against Otachi in brutal fashion. Hang on, was 'it' right? They don't have a will of their own supposedly, but Taylor was still one… And after last night people were going to want to know why Khanivore didn't fight. Aunt Annette would never let it happen.
"From the top." Sherrel is in a mockup of the announcer booth. "Seton's a fan favourite and Knifehead's establishing themselves as a heel, so we set that shit up with the entrance, blah blah… and go!"
Knifehead charged, moving with a grace - or at least agility - that its stocky body belied. Seton scuttled forward to meet them, Sam raising an arm in concert with Seton's fur and scales rippling, standing out from skin for an instant as it brushed past Knifehead, cutting a huge swathe of skin off its side.
"Woah woah, stop, we said minimal contact for rehearsals!"
Nessa looked up, Knifehead slumping slightly. "My bad. Misaimed my charge, tried to lean into the blow to sell it, leant too hard. Boy's pretty heavy."
"Ugh. Fine. Let's take Knifehead back to the lab for a quick fix before that flap gets torn off. Sam, practice, we need to be able to do soft contact for the matinee shows when kiddies don't want to see what a degloved limb looks like." Sherrel was surprisingly good at the directing thing, when she wasn't… being herself.
"Have you ever met a kid? They love violence and stuff." Sam stood up out of his squat and cracked his neck.
"Yeah, but their parents don't." Sherrel screwed her face up, despite probably agreeing. "And neither do our oh-so-smug license-providing PRT friends."
"It's better to do the fixes all at once." Lilith's voice was steady, and Flare did her best to suppress the surprised twitch from finding her employer suddenly right beside her; she was moderately successful. "Sam, Ness, let's keep it going for now. Remember, Seton is best suited for grapples. Move slower than your instincts suggest you should, I barely caught the facial expression you were going for on Knifehead before you started moving."
"So we should continue?"
Lilith gestured, wide and expansive.
"Alright, you heard the boss. From the top, charge, dodge-swipe, then…" Sherrel looked down at her clipboard and flicked a few pages. "Uh. Fuck's sake how did these get out of order already…" she started grumbling to herself.
"Sooooo… do Beasties have kayfabe?" Flare smirked over at Lilith.
"To an extent. Sherrel is scripting it too much, in my opinion. But it seems to make her happy." Lilith flexed her left hand on the railing, a slow and careful motion. "It will make the fights where audience members participate stand out, I suppose. It serves as good training for theatrical moves, at least. I was never one for theater."
"Yeah… probably have to make sure there's a bunch of people with the killswitch ready, though. The last thing we need is some dickhead trying to make off with a Beastie or attack the audience."
Knifehead charged, Seton dodged and swiped, missing this time - Knifehead sold the blow with an exaggerated reaction, and a turn of the head prevented the oversized horn-crest-thing from going through the wall as it slid into the arena boundary. It seethed, Nessa holding her arms over her head and the beastie echoing her before it kicked off the boundary wall into a steady, circling lope.
"That's it, thaaat's it," Sherrel was grinning widely, waving her arms out and up. "Play it up for the crowd, gimme some posturing! Roar for me!"
"They hardly even have vocal chords -" Lilith muttered, shaking her head sharply. "Well. If anyone attempts to steal a Beastie away… they will have left the important part of themselves behind." Then, louder. "Sherrel, Seton doesn't have lungs and can't roar. Knifehead needs that oxygen intake to stay mobile. Roaring might not be possible with these iterations."
"You could hide speakers in their throats? Pre-recorded soundboard of noises." Flare shrugged.
"Shit. Well… rattle something! Flare up your feathers! Like a cat fluffing up, 'I am a predator! Fear me for I am bigger than you!', that sorta thing!"
Nessa's laughter might have undercut the moment a bit.
"The complexity in making a speaker system that could accurately replicate it without being crushed by the Beastie itself or become damaged in the fight would render it a waste of effort and resources." Lilith grumbled. "The next batch will have a secondary - perhaps tertiary - set of lungs specifically for that."
I wouldn't mind secondary lungs. "Seems legit." A moment's pause. "How's D - Frank doing?"
"Fine." Lilith's hand curled slowly again. "Well. Worried about you."
"... Do you think he's figured it out?"
"No." Lilith leaned over the railing, looking down as Seton mimed wrapping around Knifehead, careful to avoid the contact that in the actual fight would completely deglove one of the other Beastie's limbs before Knifehead would pick them up and slam them into the ground in a fury. "He'd heard about the attack on Taylor by the Empire. He was concerned you might face similar problems."
"If I value my life more than my identity, I'd be fine." Flare sighed. "But then they'd target him, too."
"I think that we could protect him." Lilith's mask tipped down to where Knifehead was very slowly showing how they'd stomp on Seton twice, step back for the third stomp to let the crowd boo.
"I think Hookwolf's getting kind of pissed though. Since every time he shows up here he loses metal… I don't play up the banter too much, do I?" Flare bit her lip.
"A little. I don't really - " Lilith cut herself off. "I understand why we or they don't escalate but I don't understand why people make such a damn show of it."
"Well…" Flare turned her hand over, a point of light appearing in her palm and emitting a plasma jet the size of a candle flame. "I've got this really fucking destructive power. I put so much effort into not killing anyone. And if I play up the snark and banter, people don't think about how dangerous I am and decide I can't be allowed to be an independent. I've seen the rumors about Psycho Stalker. I don't want to work for anywhere that thinks she's a good hire… and odds are they'd want me to move, because of the whole…" She gestured towards herself. "And that'd just kill Dad. The Union's what he's held onto for the last couple years now."
"Mm." Lilith worked her jaw. "I understand that in public but the show - there's just so many layers to this mess." Her hands came up to the temples of her mask.
"... Heh. There's a side job I could do. It'd be cheaper to hire me to do leaflet drops than an airplane or helicopter."
"Boss?"
The walkie talkie moved from Lilith's belt to her hand in an instant. "Report."
"Empire's testing the perimeter again. Think they're angling for a fight with the ABB we saw earlier."
"Shit. Guess I'd better go show the colors." Sighing, Flare stepped back and shoved her phone into her belt. "Tell them I'm on my way over, usual flashlight signal."
"Acknowledged." Lilith was all business now, her persona settling onto her like a shroud. "If you need backup - "
"Panic button, I know. Skylight." The last word said into her radio, Flare took two steps backward, waited for the hum of motors to stop, and took off. It'd taken a while to figure out how to do a standing start without doing more than mildly discoloring the metal under her, but it was so worth it. She dropped into a hover about five hundred feet up, wobbling slightly, before arcing over towards the telltale blinking light.
"Confirmed sighting of Stormtiger and Hookwolf. Think this might get ugly."
"When isn't the Empire ugly?" Sherrel's voice on the radio. "They have a healer, too, so anything short of death they'll probably walk off."
Flare snickered. "Tiger Tiger burning bright, in the forest of the night…" Aunt Annette had always liked Blake.
"Be cautious. I know you can handle Hookwolf but Stormtiger's ranged capabilities - " Lilith sighed. "Don't engage unless you have to. They're trying to provoke action."
"And if you have to, I say knee-cap 'em!"
"Sherrel, get off the channel!" Kurt yelled back at her.
"I don't have that level of accuracy unless I'm at point blank, and you're not the one who has to smell burning Nazis!" Almost there. She flipped around, thrusting in reverse now to decelerate and started her descent.
The picket on the rooftop stopped the light signal, then pointed at the end of the street where, civilians clearing out of their way, a small group of figures in red and green where being confronted by two shirtless men and a smaller mass of muscled and armed figures.
Flare tapped two fingers to the edge of her helmet in salute, angling a bit further for a high speed pass over the two groups, before coming in for a landing on a rooftop overlooking the scene. Close enough that she could hear the back and forth - mostly threateningly racist insults from the Nazis.
But she'd only been settled for a few seconds when one of the shirtless men's heads turned to her direction - a silver and black tiger's mask, which he tapped the nose of, then tapped the second man on the shoulder. "We have an audience."
"Yeah, and your ratings are gonna suck." She smirked. "If you all want to take your argument somewhere else, you can maybe avoid the hit."
The second shirtless man turned. Whereas Stormtiger was traditionally shirtless-asshole muscular, Hookwolf was more wiry, with thick patches of chest hair. "Flare. Are you going to continue to pretend you're not working for Lilith?"
"Depends, are you going to continue to pretend that not washing your hair for a month makes you look good? Nazi women must have low standards." Leaning back against an AC unit, she idly toyed with a mote of her power, bouncing it between her palms.
"Better than a dyke's standards." He shrugged, stepping forward with a casual, grating insouciance. Yeah, get closer to the blaster. Always a good idea. "We were going on our way to speak to your boss when we met these chinks. Seems like they had the same idea as us, really."
The apparent leader of the group of ABB gangmembers sneered and spat, but didn't say anything.
"Yeah, neither of you have an appointment, and she's kinda a stickler for that. I can, however, offer you an excellent deal on some solar plasma. You're not wearing synthetic fabrics, right? It's just those tend to melt and stick to stuff when they catch fire, and you'd have to have them surgically removed after… and the smell's even worse than burning scumbag usually is."
"Why are you showing so much concern for themmmmmm?"
"Sherrel, for fuck's sake -"
Ignoring those two for now.
Stormtiger raised a hand that glimmered slightly, something held between his fingers. "You sure that's how you want to play this, little girl?"
Flare shrugged. "It's your choice how on fire and burnt you are when you leave. Doesn't really matter to me either way." Just have to keep them talking long enough for Browbeat to flank before we engage…
Hookwolf put a hand on Stormtiger's shoulder. "Easy. Let's make it fair on the dyke. How about a simple rematch? One on one. Should appeal to your boss, given the show arena she's set up."
"Hmmmm…" She tapped her chin. On one hand, taking Stormtiger out of the equation makes things a lot easier for me. On the other hand… They're Nazis. There's no way they'd play fair. She hit the concealed radio switch in her glove. "Boss? Hookwolf wants a one on one."
"No. Almost certainly a trap, and if it isn't it's a PR move. No."
Flare lowered her voice so she wouldn't be heard from the ground… hopefully. "Look, Stormtiger's here too," So they probably can hear me, "along with some armed goons from both gangs. I don't think I can take them all."
"Don't engage unless they move closer to the arena, then. Or - " Annette's sigh came through in a burst of frustrated static. "Damnit. ABB and Empire clashing on the other side of the arena, a few blocks away." Silence. "Engage. Drive them off."
"All right, Paw Patrol. You're on. And you'll be paying for my next few dates. Boss gave me thirty percent of the proceeds from those keychains we made out of you." Grin now slightly manic, Flare stepped forward and off the edge of the roof. A few bursts decelerated her fall, leaving her free to drop to one knee and unleash twin high power jets at the blond Nazi. Even with the protection granted by her power, the glare threw the street into stark relief.
Hookwolf's arm sprouted, launching him up and sideways in a whirling mass of metal, but he wasn't quite fast enough - the heat from the plasma hit his arm and broke it in half in a shower of incandescent metal that slid up the arm like water, flames bursting in its wake.
He shattered the bits of metal off, lines and hooks and claws already sprouting across his body, whirring and shifting. "Alright then."
"What's the matter, Hookie? Can't take the heat?" Flare leapt up, a burst propelling her up to about twenty feet above him. And then she went to full burn. The world blurred, blackness intruding at the edge of her vision, for the three seconds before she cut thrust back to something far more reasonable. "Putting on a good show, Boss. Hope you can see it from there." Coming around in an arc, she readied for another pass.
And came face to face with a crawling, extending telescopic spear of metal. She could see the tarmac was still bubbling and he'd taken some of the hit - chunks of him were melted and glowing - but he'd dodged aside, circling her, the long tail extending into the spear that now rushed towards her.
Flare did not squeak and anyone who said she did was wrong and a liar. The evasive thrust felt like getting hit by a truck, knocking her sideways into a tumble that took a few seconds to recover from. Shitshitshitshitshitshiiiiiiit! She was pretty sure she'd felt those blades whiff past her.
The thing was, he was so distant every attack like that had to be telegraphed. She could see the second spear building, this one from his haunches.
Okay. This time… have to keep him in it. Which means not being able to dodge as well. ...I really hope Browbeat's still coming. Time to turn and burn. She arced back towards him, the brief moment of freefall as she reversed her body catching in her throat, shifting a little, watching the second spear track her as it began to extend. Three… Two… She fired again, gritting her teeth against the deceleration and squinting through the glare. Stupid power. Need better goggles...
She barely got out of the way in time - a mass of molten metal launching itself up at her, some attack that had been destroyed by her blast. She'd melted a third or more of him with that, his whole body steaming and squeaking and shifting, disguising - shit! A jink of thrust sideways dodged three more spears popping out at her, one after the other, much faster than they'd moved before.
A hop back to get range, ignoring the splash of a puddle of molten metal and the slight smell of burning rubber as some part of her boots outside her temperature field melted, Flare leaned forward and brought both hands up to unleash a pulsing burst. Half a second, then just enough to let her vision clear. "Why. Won't. You. Stay. Down?"
A shifting, blurring mass of half-melted, blunted metal - she ducked but it still clipped her, hard, sent her sprawling. "Cause you haven't brought me down yet, bitch." More cracks as spears extended - she felt one slice across her calf, tried not to cry out.
"F-fine." Staggering to her feet, she glared at him through the visor, felt her grin shift into a snarl. "Sit." The world in front of her went white, boots skidding backwards across the pavement until the hero could feel the grille of a truck digging into her back. Still, she didn't let up. The brick walls beside her blackened, carbonised - the tarmac was melting under her feet, she could hear the fwoomph of the seats in the truck behind her ignite -
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she clenched the reins on her power and let the pinches close. The street in front of her looked… strange. The tarmac was melted and bubbly, concrete sidewalks and brick buildings bearing a glassy sheen, a soft tinkling sound emanating as things cooled unevenly. And Hookwolf- was nowhere to be seen. "... Boss? I think either I vaporized him, or he ran away… and I might need new boots."
There was no response from the radio. Looking at it, it was a sludge of plastic and metal.
"...Shit. Got too far outside my field. No payphones, Think, Flare. Think." Pen signal flares. Those might still be intact.
They were. Grinning triumphantly, she pulled the green one out of its plastic tube, aimed up, and pulled the string. WIth a pop and a hiss, the orb of green light streaked skywards.
… Why did her leg feel wet? Flare looked down. Oh. That's why. Gauze pads, in my first aid kit-
Rumbling in the distance. God, the whole street was on fire. When had… when had that happened? She could hear gunfire. Shouting.
And then over it, a horrible noise. Like the screech of claws down metal.
She'd seen enough videos on PHO to know -
Lung.
-.-.-
Special thanks to my lovely co-author and wife, @hellgodsrus, without whom I would never would have been able to take part in creating half my fics, and our girlfriend @SolarFlare for being awesome and also betaing! Also special thanks Prime Betas @Tamahori and @32nd_freeze and @Ganurath for being betas and feeding me validation and feedback between updates! Excitement!
Also @SolarFlare for Flare and writign this interlude with us!
Sköll
-.-.-
Taylor owes me a new autograph pad. And New Wave autographs.
Tonight had been… a thing. Vicky's aura… Lindsay didn't really have words to put it in. The best way she'd come up with was the emotional equivalent of standing in front of a campfire, but it was so much more than that. Taylor knew who she was too. That… was awkward. Things only got weirder after that. She'd about to open the door, and then suddenly she was on a folding cot in one of the back rooms, and her utility belt was broken.
Lilith had told her what happened while she was out. Fucking Panacea trying to break in - again, after that incident Lacey still wouldn't tell her about. Lindsay definitely needed to upgrade her gear some more. First off, no exposed skin, which meant that gas mask lower half to help mask her voice (the built in amplifier was a bonus), and probably some kind of neck and head cover.
And Tammi possibly being Rune, of all people. Can't believe I thought she was cute… No, confirm first, then hate.
She wished she could watch the fights instead of patrol. She understood why and everything, it was just - so boring watching people enjoy themselves and being unable to join in. The Arena itself was completely closed off, so nobody could just get binoculars and watch from the window of a tall building, but even if they weren't here for the fights, the surrounding streets had become a sort of carnival of its own. There were even rumours going around the Dockworkers that they were in talks with a travelling circus or performing group or something about renting some of the space like they'd done for all the stalls past the main gate.
Flare sighed and looked away from the incredibly appetising gyro stall, turning her attention back to the cold dead streets of the Brockton Bay Docks. No point in ordering one now. She'd just get sauce all over her gloves, and needing to stop to put them back on would waste valuable time. Getting the metal inserts in and out so they could be washed without putting dents in the dryer was a bitch and a half.
Maybe it was just first-night jitters. Saturday would surely go better, right?
-.-.-
It hadn't. But on the other hand, the merch table now had a bunch of limited edition 'Hookwolf's Loss Keyrings'. One of the Dockworkers knew how to do metal casting and molds - she melted, he shaped, and now she proudly wore a Hookwolf MoonMoon keyring on her belt loop.
-.-.-
Sunday had been a pain for non-Nazi reasons for once, a group of teenagers being drunk and problematic. Not gang-related, just - idiot asshole teenagers, probably from Winslow, heckling the boss and being sexist pigs. At least they backed the fuck off quick enough when they realised there was a cape behind them.
Assault had stopped by shortly after, relaying the story that the kids had told, and appropriately believing it to be bullshit since none of them had charcoaled bits. He even bought a few keyrings while he was by.
-.-.-
Monday she spent the whole day asleep. With the gang war heating up, Arcadia administration wanted to either keep the students safe, or the identity of the Wards safe, since the teen heroes had been out in force lately. Didn't really matter to Lindsay, she was tired and gladly took the time off to catch up. She could come back in on Tuesday for lunch, if school was still out.
-.-.-
Wrestling is scripted. Apparently, so are kaiju fights.
Below her, two forms circled each other, each 'winners' from the previous evening, hastily repaired for an 'after action checkup' and hasty rehearsal for the next show. From next week on, they'd be doing three nights of fights a week with a smaller, rotating 'cast'.
On the left, half-hidden by the catwalk, was Seton. A lengthy fur-lined neck, matted from nutrient fluid and injuries from the previous night, topped with a feline face, cheeks fat and scaled. Large webbed feet - three full pairs, with another pair curled up against the sinuous line of the torso.
On the right was Knifehead, who looked like nothing so much as a rhino and a shark had been badly superimposed on each other, and then someone had added dinosaur-like claws. The eyes were narrow, yellow, the arms splitting at the elbow into four hands.
Behind each were their current controllers. Sam (another Dockworker, not Sam her cape friend) was crouched in a squat like someone doing side-street gambling. Nessa had opted for a cross-legged meditation pose. Each had a heavy frame draped over their upper bodies, culminating in a helmet that looked rather like it had been made out of a colander, seaweed, and the interior of an AC unit.
Lindsay knew there was a script, but not what it was. So she put her imaginary bets on Knifehead. It'd won the previous night against Otachi in brutal fashion. Hang on, was 'it' right? They don't have a will of their own supposedly, but Taylor was still one… And after last night people were going to want to know why Khanivore didn't fight. Aunt Annette would never let it happen.
"From the top." Sherrel is in a mockup of the announcer booth. "Seton's a fan favourite and Knifehead's establishing themselves as a heel, so we set that shit up with the entrance, blah blah… and go!"
Knifehead charged, moving with a grace - or at least agility - that its stocky body belied. Seton scuttled forward to meet them, Sam raising an arm in concert with Seton's fur and scales rippling, standing out from skin for an instant as it brushed past Knifehead, cutting a huge swathe of skin off its side.
"Woah woah, stop, we said minimal contact for rehearsals!"
Nessa looked up, Knifehead slumping slightly. "My bad. Misaimed my charge, tried to lean into the blow to sell it, leant too hard. Boy's pretty heavy."
"Ugh. Fine. Let's take Knifehead back to the lab for a quick fix before that flap gets torn off. Sam, practice, we need to be able to do soft contact for the matinee shows when kiddies don't want to see what a degloved limb looks like." Sherrel was surprisingly good at the directing thing, when she wasn't… being herself.
"Have you ever met a kid? They love violence and stuff." Sam stood up out of his squat and cracked his neck.
"Yeah, but their parents don't." Sherrel screwed her face up, despite probably agreeing. "And neither do our oh-so-smug license-providing PRT friends."
"It's better to do the fixes all at once." Lilith's voice was steady, and Flare did her best to suppress the surprised twitch from finding her employer suddenly right beside her; she was moderately successful. "Sam, Ness, let's keep it going for now. Remember, Seton is best suited for grapples. Move slower than your instincts suggest you should, I barely caught the facial expression you were going for on Knifehead before you started moving."
"So we should continue?"
Lilith gestured, wide and expansive.
"Alright, you heard the boss. From the top, charge, dodge-swipe, then…" Sherrel looked down at her clipboard and flicked a few pages. "Uh. Fuck's sake how did these get out of order already…" she started grumbling to herself.
"Sooooo… do Beasties have kayfabe?" Flare smirked over at Lilith.
"To an extent. Sherrel is scripting it too much, in my opinion. But it seems to make her happy." Lilith flexed her left hand on the railing, a slow and careful motion. "It will make the fights where audience members participate stand out, I suppose. It serves as good training for theatrical moves, at least. I was never one for theater."
"Yeah… probably have to make sure there's a bunch of people with the killswitch ready, though. The last thing we need is some dickhead trying to make off with a Beastie or attack the audience."
Knifehead charged, Seton dodged and swiped, missing this time - Knifehead sold the blow with an exaggerated reaction, and a turn of the head prevented the oversized horn-crest-thing from going through the wall as it slid into the arena boundary. It seethed, Nessa holding her arms over her head and the beastie echoing her before it kicked off the boundary wall into a steady, circling lope.
"That's it, thaaat's it," Sherrel was grinning widely, waving her arms out and up. "Play it up for the crowd, gimme some posturing! Roar for me!"
"They hardly even have vocal chords -" Lilith muttered, shaking her head sharply. "Well. If anyone attempts to steal a Beastie away… they will have left the important part of themselves behind." Then, louder. "Sherrel, Seton doesn't have lungs and can't roar. Knifehead needs that oxygen intake to stay mobile. Roaring might not be possible with these iterations."
"You could hide speakers in their throats? Pre-recorded soundboard of noises." Flare shrugged.
"Shit. Well… rattle something! Flare up your feathers! Like a cat fluffing up, 'I am a predator! Fear me for I am bigger than you!', that sorta thing!"
Nessa's laughter might have undercut the moment a bit.
"The complexity in making a speaker system that could accurately replicate it without being crushed by the Beastie itself or become damaged in the fight would render it a waste of effort and resources." Lilith grumbled. "The next batch will have a secondary - perhaps tertiary - set of lungs specifically for that."
I wouldn't mind secondary lungs. "Seems legit." A moment's pause. "How's D - Frank doing?"
"Fine." Lilith's hand curled slowly again. "Well. Worried about you."
"... Do you think he's figured it out?"
"No." Lilith leaned over the railing, looking down as Seton mimed wrapping around Knifehead, careful to avoid the contact that in the actual fight would completely deglove one of the other Beastie's limbs before Knifehead would pick them up and slam them into the ground in a fury. "He'd heard about the attack on Taylor by the Empire. He was concerned you might face similar problems."
"If I value my life more than my identity, I'd be fine." Flare sighed. "But then they'd target him, too."
"I think that we could protect him." Lilith's mask tipped down to where Knifehead was very slowly showing how they'd stomp on Seton twice, step back for the third stomp to let the crowd boo.
"I think Hookwolf's getting kind of pissed though. Since every time he shows up here he loses metal… I don't play up the banter too much, do I?" Flare bit her lip.
"A little. I don't really - " Lilith cut herself off. "I understand why we or they don't escalate but I don't understand why people make such a damn show of it."
"Well…" Flare turned her hand over, a point of light appearing in her palm and emitting a plasma jet the size of a candle flame. "I've got this really fucking destructive power. I put so much effort into not killing anyone. And if I play up the snark and banter, people don't think about how dangerous I am and decide I can't be allowed to be an independent. I've seen the rumors about Psycho Stalker. I don't want to work for anywhere that thinks she's a good hire… and odds are they'd want me to move, because of the whole…" She gestured towards herself. "And that'd just kill Dad. The Union's what he's held onto for the last couple years now."
"Mm." Lilith worked her jaw. "I understand that in public but the show - there's just so many layers to this mess." Her hands came up to the temples of her mask.
"... Heh. There's a side job I could do. It'd be cheaper to hire me to do leaflet drops than an airplane or helicopter."
"Boss?"
The walkie talkie moved from Lilith's belt to her hand in an instant. "Report."
"Empire's testing the perimeter again. Think they're angling for a fight with the ABB we saw earlier."
"Shit. Guess I'd better go show the colors." Sighing, Flare stepped back and shoved her phone into her belt. "Tell them I'm on my way over, usual flashlight signal."
"Acknowledged." Lilith was all business now, her persona settling onto her like a shroud. "If you need backup - "
"Panic button, I know. Skylight." The last word said into her radio, Flare took two steps backward, waited for the hum of motors to stop, and took off. It'd taken a while to figure out how to do a standing start without doing more than mildly discoloring the metal under her, but it was so worth it. She dropped into a hover about five hundred feet up, wobbling slightly, before arcing over towards the telltale blinking light.
"Confirmed sighting of Stormtiger and Hookwolf. Think this might get ugly."
"When isn't the Empire ugly?" Sherrel's voice on the radio. "They have a healer, too, so anything short of death they'll probably walk off."
Flare snickered. "Tiger Tiger burning bright, in the forest of the night…" Aunt Annette had always liked Blake.
"Be cautious. I know you can handle Hookwolf but Stormtiger's ranged capabilities - " Lilith sighed. "Don't engage unless you have to. They're trying to provoke action."
"And if you have to, I say knee-cap 'em!"
"Sherrel, get off the channel!" Kurt yelled back at her.
"I don't have that level of accuracy unless I'm at point blank, and you're not the one who has to smell burning Nazis!" Almost there. She flipped around, thrusting in reverse now to decelerate and started her descent.
The picket on the rooftop stopped the light signal, then pointed at the end of the street where, civilians clearing out of their way, a small group of figures in red and green where being confronted by two shirtless men and a smaller mass of muscled and armed figures.
Flare tapped two fingers to the edge of her helmet in salute, angling a bit further for a high speed pass over the two groups, before coming in for a landing on a rooftop overlooking the scene. Close enough that she could hear the back and forth - mostly threateningly racist insults from the Nazis.
But she'd only been settled for a few seconds when one of the shirtless men's heads turned to her direction - a silver and black tiger's mask, which he tapped the nose of, then tapped the second man on the shoulder. "We have an audience."
"Yeah, and your ratings are gonna suck." She smirked. "If you all want to take your argument somewhere else, you can maybe avoid the hit."
The second shirtless man turned. Whereas Stormtiger was traditionally shirtless-asshole muscular, Hookwolf was more wiry, with thick patches of chest hair. "Flare. Are you going to continue to pretend you're not working for Lilith?"
"Depends, are you going to continue to pretend that not washing your hair for a month makes you look good? Nazi women must have low standards." Leaning back against an AC unit, she idly toyed with a mote of her power, bouncing it between her palms.
"Better than a dyke's standards." He shrugged, stepping forward with a casual, grating insouciance. Yeah, get closer to the blaster. Always a good idea. "We were going on our way to speak to your boss when we met these chinks. Seems like they had the same idea as us, really."
The apparent leader of the group of ABB gangmembers sneered and spat, but didn't say anything.
"Yeah, neither of you have an appointment, and she's kinda a stickler for that. I can, however, offer you an excellent deal on some solar plasma. You're not wearing synthetic fabrics, right? It's just those tend to melt and stick to stuff when they catch fire, and you'd have to have them surgically removed after… and the smell's even worse than burning scumbag usually is."
"Why are you showing so much concern for themmmmmm?"
"Sherrel, for fuck's sake -"
Ignoring those two for now.
Stormtiger raised a hand that glimmered slightly, something held between his fingers. "You sure that's how you want to play this, little girl?"
Flare shrugged. "It's your choice how on fire and burnt you are when you leave. Doesn't really matter to me either way." Just have to keep them talking long enough for Browbeat to flank before we engage…
Hookwolf put a hand on Stormtiger's shoulder. "Easy. Let's make it fair on the dyke. How about a simple rematch? One on one. Should appeal to your boss, given the show arena she's set up."
"Hmmmm…" She tapped her chin. On one hand, taking Stormtiger out of the equation makes things a lot easier for me. On the other hand… They're Nazis. There's no way they'd play fair. She hit the concealed radio switch in her glove. "Boss? Hookwolf wants a one on one."
"No. Almost certainly a trap, and if it isn't it's a PR move. No."
Flare lowered her voice so she wouldn't be heard from the ground… hopefully. "Look, Stormtiger's here too," So they probably can hear me, "along with some armed goons from both gangs. I don't think I can take them all."
"Don't engage unless they move closer to the arena, then. Or - " Annette's sigh came through in a burst of frustrated static. "Damnit. ABB and Empire clashing on the other side of the arena, a few blocks away." Silence. "Engage. Drive them off."
"All right, Paw Patrol. You're on. And you'll be paying for my next few dates. Boss gave me thirty percent of the proceeds from those keychains we made out of you." Grin now slightly manic, Flare stepped forward and off the edge of the roof. A few bursts decelerated her fall, leaving her free to drop to one knee and unleash twin high power jets at the blond Nazi. Even with the protection granted by her power, the glare threw the street into stark relief.
Hookwolf's arm sprouted, launching him up and sideways in a whirling mass of metal, but he wasn't quite fast enough - the heat from the plasma hit his arm and broke it in half in a shower of incandescent metal that slid up the arm like water, flames bursting in its wake.
He shattered the bits of metal off, lines and hooks and claws already sprouting across his body, whirring and shifting. "Alright then."
"What's the matter, Hookie? Can't take the heat?" Flare leapt up, a burst propelling her up to about twenty feet above him. And then she went to full burn. The world blurred, blackness intruding at the edge of her vision, for the three seconds before she cut thrust back to something far more reasonable. "Putting on a good show, Boss. Hope you can see it from there." Coming around in an arc, she readied for another pass.
And came face to face with a crawling, extending telescopic spear of metal. She could see the tarmac was still bubbling and he'd taken some of the hit - chunks of him were melted and glowing - but he'd dodged aside, circling her, the long tail extending into the spear that now rushed towards her.
Flare did not squeak and anyone who said she did was wrong and a liar. The evasive thrust felt like getting hit by a truck, knocking her sideways into a tumble that took a few seconds to recover from. Shitshitshitshitshitshiiiiiiit! She was pretty sure she'd felt those blades whiff past her.
The thing was, he was so distant every attack like that had to be telegraphed. She could see the second spear building, this one from his haunches.
Okay. This time… have to keep him in it. Which means not being able to dodge as well. ...I really hope Browbeat's still coming. Time to turn and burn. She arced back towards him, the brief moment of freefall as she reversed her body catching in her throat, shifting a little, watching the second spear track her as it began to extend. Three… Two… She fired again, gritting her teeth against the deceleration and squinting through the glare. Stupid power. Need better goggles...
She barely got out of the way in time - a mass of molten metal launching itself up at her, some attack that had been destroyed by her blast. She'd melted a third or more of him with that, his whole body steaming and squeaking and shifting, disguising - shit! A jink of thrust sideways dodged three more spears popping out at her, one after the other, much faster than they'd moved before.
A hop back to get range, ignoring the splash of a puddle of molten metal and the slight smell of burning rubber as some part of her boots outside her temperature field melted, Flare leaned forward and brought both hands up to unleash a pulsing burst. Half a second, then just enough to let her vision clear. "Why. Won't. You. Stay. Down?"
A shifting, blurring mass of half-melted, blunted metal - she ducked but it still clipped her, hard, sent her sprawling. "Cause you haven't brought me down yet, bitch." More cracks as spears extended - she felt one slice across her calf, tried not to cry out.
"F-fine." Staggering to her feet, she glared at him through the visor, felt her grin shift into a snarl. "Sit." The world in front of her went white, boots skidding backwards across the pavement until the hero could feel the grille of a truck digging into her back. Still, she didn't let up. The brick walls beside her blackened, carbonised - the tarmac was melting under her feet, she could hear the fwoomph of the seats in the truck behind her ignite -
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she clenched the reins on her power and let the pinches close. The street in front of her looked… strange. The tarmac was melted and bubbly, concrete sidewalks and brick buildings bearing a glassy sheen, a soft tinkling sound emanating as things cooled unevenly. And Hookwolf- was nowhere to be seen. "... Boss? I think either I vaporized him, or he ran away… and I might need new boots."
There was no response from the radio. Looking at it, it was a sludge of plastic and metal.
"...Shit. Got too far outside my field. No payphones, Think, Flare. Think." Pen signal flares. Those might still be intact.
They were. Grinning triumphantly, she pulled the green one out of its plastic tube, aimed up, and pulled the string. WIth a pop and a hiss, the orb of green light streaked skywards.
… Why did her leg feel wet? Flare looked down. Oh. That's why. Gauze pads, in my first aid kit-
Rumbling in the distance. God, the whole street was on fire. When had… when had that happened? She could hear gunfire. Shouting.
And then over it, a horrible noise. Like the screech of claws down metal.
She'd seen enough videos on PHO to know -
Lung.
-.-.-
Lab_Accident
A 2D 1D4
- Location
- Your dreams
Ooh, crap in a crap-basket. Was Lung incognito in the ABB crowd and got hit by the blast? Also, where the hell did Hookwolf and Stormtiger go?
SolarFlare
(Verified Cape)
- Location
- Brockton Bay, USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Stormtiger's not a brute, so I'm guessing 'somewhere not near the cape I taunted whose temperature output may rival Lung'
Ganurath
Literal Enthusiast
- Location
- A Valid Location
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, he is a brute. He's not a Brute, though. Considering that Cricket favored shallow, showy cuts in canon, Stormtiger might be the type to showboat enough to be around for the fight, if only to prey on Flare after Hookwolf's no doubt inevitable victory over a kid that's all bark and no bite.
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
New Headcanon: Stormtiger talkingt o Hookwolf in private is 95% dog puns by volume. Hookwolf would do the same back but he honestly doens't know many cat puns
SolarFlare
(Verified Cape)
- Location
- Brockton Bay, USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
So I guess you could say.... Cat got his tongue?
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Cricket's favourite
Lab_Accident
A 2D 1D4
- Location
- Your dreams
...
*chirping cricket noises*
- Location
- Earth, probably.
- Pronouns
- None/Any
Well... I figured it was Lung but oof. That's not gonna be fun. And Taylor and Amy are running right into him.
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
"Melody, I didn't realise you were part bird!"
"What?"
"You were chirping."
"..."
"Fuck, I'm really bad at this aren't I."
"You've got a whole menagerie to choose from, Brad."
"GAH!"
- Location
- Xen
- Pronouns
- Vortigaunt
I have a severe aversion to Sherrel.
SolarFlare
(Verified Cape)
- Location
- Brockton Bay, USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Do tell why?
- Location
- Xen
- Pronouns
- Vortigaunt
She just seems overly abrasive. It's not something where I can say, "Look, that specifically is why I dislike her." So I can't really explain to you why I feel this way. I just don't really like Sherrel.
- Location
- Earth
does he use tank puns instead?
Homesteads 6.7
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
IT APPROACHES!
Special thanks to my lovely co-author and wife, @hellgodsrus, without whom I would never would have been able to take part in creating half my fics, and our girlfriend @SolarFlare for being awesome and also betaing! Also special thanks Prime Betas @Tamahori and @32nd_freeze and @Ganurath for being betas and feeding me validation and feedback between updates! Excitement!
Homesteads
6.7
-.-.-
"What the fuck is going on?" I took in the burning surroundings -
How had we not been stopped by cordons? How had this much damage snuck up on us? I knew the answers to both, of course - the cordon was further down the burning road, and we were distracted by each other.
Amy was already slamming the car into reverse, almost making me drop the food. "This much fire there's only one likely cause and if he's going after Eden then I'm not throwing you into danger."
"Amy - I'm already there." Was I going to suddenly just - drop dead without any idea why? Would I feel it as I boiled alive in the nutrient fluid? Like a lobster in a pot?
Her gaze flicked to me, wide and panicked. "I know!"
"Fuck - fuck, what do we do?! I mean, someone has to have told the PRT already, right? Would they even risk a fight with Lung?" No, they won't, some part of my mind said. But it's convenient to let one threat remove another before intervening.
"With this much fire around? Someone already has risked a fight with him and let it drag on way too long - " Amy slammed her hand into the steering wheel repeatedly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! If - the Empire wouldn't let him escalate that much unless they did it deliberately because collateral damage, if it's your mother - "
I wanted to believe Mom would be the one to find a way to take down Lung, maybe with some kind of esoteric Otachi-Acid or something, but - "She'd probably go for the kill, if she thought Lung had a chance of hurting me. So not good odds..." I whimpered, hair-tails flicking - "I could - I could switch and check?"
"Don't - PRT would be on their way to provide assistance and firefighting and damage control - CHRIST!"
That was because the building behind us disintegrated in a cloud of brickdust and flame - Amy swerved the car and I jerked into the window, seatbelt pressing tight against me h4nd o\/er my ch35t - blinking rapidly.
Amy was screaming, swearing, the wheels of the car were screaming -
Something massive through the smoke and flame -
My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to tear its way out of my throat. Amy swerved the car sideways - there was another car there, blue, half-turned so it covered a chunk of the road - people were sprinting down the street away -
There was - something sharp - digging into my stomach - the box - gripping it tightly like it was a lifeline. Need to warn Mom need to get help need to escape - why now?! Why did they have to fight tonight?!
Someone in the street ahead. Figures. At first I thought - heroes, Protectorate, safe. Then Amy swore and u-turned the car - back towards the fire.
"What's going on?! Weren't those -" Heroes? Civilians? Please don't tell me they're Empire and you opted against running them over...
"Not running into Krieg right now. Shit, shit, shit. Phone, get my phone, get my phone and call C-Carol and Vicky, do it, do it!" When I hesitated - "Back pocket!"
Right. Not the time to be feeling around - there it was. She - didn't have a lock? Or this was her 'work' phone and - not the time. Phonebook, phonebook - fucking fuckity fuck not how this day was meant to go! Dial faster! - Flash of green on my right, flash of orange on my left, heat and a noise.
It wasn't a roar. This was like something - bass, primal. Eldritch. From lowest note to highest in one long uninterrupted crescendo. And there was something more to it, a - a part that sounded.
Human.
Voicemail. FUCKING VOICEMAIL?! "FUCK YOU, VICKY!" I shouted, "WE'RE DEALING WITH LUNG AND YOU LEAVE US TO GO TO VOICEMAIL?!" End call. Texting - texting was very difficult when the road was not smooth at all.
"Why'd you call her personal phone of course she's not going to - call the New Wave Glory Girl one - "
Fucking - AGH! I sent the text - which was 'Lung' but with a bunch of typoes - and hit New Wave Glory Girl. Dialling… dialling - fireballs overhead that made me want to curl up and cry because there was n()th1ng I cou|_d d0 -
"Taylor? TAYLOR!"
My head was resting against the car door. We weren't - we weren't moving - the phone was lying in my lap, buzzing uselessly -
"We need to get out, the road's blocked. Okay? There's an Endbringer shelter nearby, I have an emergency code, we can be safe in there but I need you to - Taylor, please just talk to me - "
"I -" I made a noise. Not a grunt, or keening, or whimpering, just - a noise. "I can't - remember -" Why was the phone buzzing, when did we stop moving, why - where were we? I tried to push her phone into her hand and undo my seatbelt.
"Shit, shit, shitshit - Victoria? You - please - yes, yes we're - yeah near Hope Street - yell at us later just please - god this is all my fault I should just - " Hand on my shoulder, fumbling with my belt, keeping me from catching the last two words. "I'll get her to safety first - Taylor? Talk to me."
"I'm alive?" Everything was kinda blurry. Like I was looking through a window I could see a reflection of myself in. "I don't know what to say." Dragging the belt over my face and - and was it safe to open the door? "Fraying. Everything's - fraying."
"You're alive, you'll stay alive, I promise, I'll keep you alive - you - you idiot." Hand pushing me. "We need to go now. We need to go now!"
Touch on my neck - shot of energy, like a jolt through my whole system - I could hear my heart pounding like a machine gun. Like it wanted to burst. Opening the door and the heat washed over me like I was in front of the oven, the horizon the colour of Mom's lasagna. Orange. And flickering yellow and - move don't just stand here move follow Amy she knows where to go - following Amy. Across a road that felt like it was trying to stick to my shoes, stumbling - Amy's hand in mine, "Come on, come on, come on!"
Into an alleyway - slightly cooler? - skin was feeling drenched in sweat, shirt sticking to my skin, Amy's hand slick in mine.
"Fuck!" she stopped suddenly, someone ahead of us, I didn't stop in time and they suddenly hooked an arm around my neck, stopping me dead. "Taylor! Let her go!"
"She'd fit in at the f4arm -" ha4n|)s in tithe wr-()ng p|4c3s=
| Sscr3ame|) 4nd 7hRash3d-
Breathing hard. Fist was - wet. Man on the ground in front of me, head cracked open and spilling sizzling red across the tarmac, smoke in my lungs, something hard up against my knuckles deep in crimson flesh -
I vomited. The fries - didn't taste so great the second time around.
"N-no time -" Amy grabbed my dry hand and hauled me along, my nausea vanishing. The physical nausea. Did I just kill someone? What was I - I don't remember - when did I put my fist through his throat -
Another not-roar horrifying screech, closer, and a surge of heat on my left, like opening an oven door. Amy stumbled, pulled me along faster, her hand a tight grip on my forearm.
I ran after her. Normally my longer legs would make it easy to outpace her, but in my frayed-reality stumbling, I was just barely keeping up. So much heat, so many bright lights reflected in broken glass, sh4rp th1ng5 ev3rywh3r3 - I barely stopped myself before slamming into Amy, vision blurred - not heat haze. Tears?
"Taylor, y-you need to listen to me, okay? We're really close to the shelter now. You n-need to get inside and call Victoria again, okay?"
"Y'ur - comin' with me." I - my head felt so heavy it wasn't mine it wasn't mine - feebly trying to return her grip on me, pain in my palms from my claws, which - which body was I blinking with? "R-right?"
"... yes." She smiled and even through the blurring I could tell it was wide and lying, her eyes full of tears. "We're really close now. Just a bit further."
"F-fine, but -" Why would she stay out here why would she leave me why - "P-please -" she was already moving again, tugging my arm. There was so much smoke in the air it hurt to breathe even though I wasn't coughing. Had to be - had to be Amy. She had her face in her elbow, squinting ahead -
Voices. Accents. Gunfire? Shouting and yelling that echoed in tH3 (e11 - down the street with the roaring of the flames and the call of sirens. Figures - closer, shapes, a shout and Amy's hand tightened on my arm -
More ABB. More yelling, some of it - one of the figures recoiled and fell to the ground, something bouncing off his head. I turned around, pulling back Amy and pressing us against the wall, the bricks scorchingly hot on my back - like stepping on the pavement bare-foot in summer - in the hopes we wouldn't be seen, burying my face in her hair.
"Th - "
The word ended in a gurgle. The gang members were dropping - a short figure in black zipping between them with brutal grace. One turned towards us but there was a loud clap, a noise like thunder - gunshot - and someone in a baseball cap, red hair bouncing behind her ran up past the shattered mess that had been their head and pointed the gun at Amy.
"Let her go." Emma was - a mess. The messiest I'd seen her, ever. No makeup, bags under her eyes, hair frizzed and barely restrained in a ponytail, clumped with sweat and ash. Her clothes were baggy and she looked like a stereotype of a school shooter.
Which… didn't really make much sense, given last I knew, she was a popular kid, but - "Emma?" I croaked, not letting Amy go. She was squirming to turn around anyway, so I loosened my grip but - she was coming into the shelter with me. No matter how much she didn't want to. I wasn't - I wasn't going to let her stay out here in this mess.
"Hey, Taylor." Emma smiled - and then the world shook again and we all went stumbling - c4r r{}c|<ing -
"Come on, Hebert, you're tougher than this." Rough arm around my shoulders, glove and light pain on my cheek. "Come on, get up. Up we go, that's it." A battered hockey mask in my vision. "Ems, stop fucking around with Panacea and let's get going."
What was - where was Amy? What was Sophia doing here? Why? The broken all3yway was cl{}sed ()ff at one end, only - only way through -
I groaned and clutched at my aching head. "S-shelter?"
"Bad idea, closed in space. Come on, this way." Sophia's arm snapped up and the crossbow in it fired at something I didn't see. "Ems!"
"Coming, coming." Emma, still wide eyed and awful looking. Amy was with her, also looking pale and awful, Emma's gun pressed against her side.
Threatening s-someone I c4red ab()ut-
She was on the ground, gun dropped, curled in a ball, wheezing. Sophia was shouting. My shin ached, but Emma's gun wasn't aimed at Amy anymore. What had I -? When had I kicked her there? I -
Amy's hand on my shoulder. "Taylor. No. It's okay, it's alright - we need to - "
The street ahead of us exploded.
Sophia was there for a moment, then a black cloud, a piece of pavement the size of a bike flying through her, then she was there, then not - my feet weren't on the ground and I landed, tumbled, tarmac tearing at my skin, Amy curled against me, Emma's hand clutching at my ankle - the heat was unbearable.
"Shelter -" I gasped. "F'cking - shelter -"
Down the end of the road, through the collapsed mess of buildings, there were two shapes. Vaguely visible. A man with dirty blond hair, shirtless, surrounded by shifting metal forming outstretched pseudopods. And -
The thing wasn't a dragon. Digitigrade legs but they split into four stabilising hooves. Conical torso, like a wasp's stinger. Two of its arms were folded, the other two too short to reach. Three elbows. The wet red shape of wings. Silver and on brilliant white fire, too hot to look at for too long.
Shelter might be somewhere to be boiled alive, but at the same time, I doubted our ability to run from that, especially with me in such bad shape.
Should just lay down and die, buy them time, w-wake up in the tank -
" - UP, UP GET UP HEBERT AND DALLON - EMS GET THE FUCK UP - " Arms round me, hauling me upright, dragging Amy with me. "RUN RUN RUN RUN - "
I held on to Amy's hand and ran, directionless. Amy was - too slow. Picked her up, bridal, and - and this was much easier. Emma's clammy hand grabbed my arm - Sophia was running beside us, outpacing us -
"Go right!" Amy shouted in my ear - probably the only way to be heard - and I started turning. This way to the shelter? Down another street, weaving between abandoned cars and piles of charred and bleeding meat -
Emma's hand tightened on my arm. "Shelter or car?!"
"Shelter!" Sophia's voice was loud. "This way c'mon, c'mon!"
It felt like we weren't making much distance from the blinding monster and its screeching. It was all too surreal, too frayed, too hard to - think. Just act. Just act. Follow. Trust the untrustworthy. Survive.
Down the street. The shelter was almost a building unto itself, and an airlock to keep the weather out. I'd been in one before, during the drills, of course, but the experience escaped me. I knew you needed codes to get in, unless the Endbringer Sirens had gone off, but I didn't know if they'd be staffed right now, if people would be trying to get in to hide from the Ragnarok-like apocalypse going on out here.
It was… empty. So terrifyingly empty. Sophia clattered down the stairs, slamming buttons - doors shifted, metal creaked in response and gloriously cold air poured across me. Letting Amy down to the floor, staggering inside - I could rest. I'd - I'd made it. I could rest now.
No. No, there was - one more thing I had to do before I could.
My hand came down on Emma's shoulder. Close to her neck. I loomed over her as I said, "Point a gun at Amy again - if she doesn't kill you, I will."
"She's working for your mother you idiot." Emma slapped my hand away - then hugged me tightly. "You fucking moron. You utter - you utter blathering imbecile."
I didn't hug her back. "I trust her more than I trust you." Didn't - something happen? I was - meant to be trusting Emma more or something. But it all escaped me. "Verify, right?" I pushed her away and - and there were beds. Bunk beds, but still. I took Amy to one and sat down, not letting her out of my - my sight? My attention? Had to keep her here and not out there.
It was so bright. So br1ght and cl34n. Surreal, soundproofed, just - just the sounds of us breathing and the barely-perceptible hum of the lighting, the whirring of the AC. My heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was so hard to keep my eyes open, keep them focused.
"Jesus, Hebert, you sure fucking know how to find yourself in… whatsit, in conundrums."
"Remember when you were one of them, Hess?" I spat back. "We're all so worried about what my mother's done to me, we've hardly had a chance to talk about what a 'conundrum' you made of Emma." Of my former best friend. Of someone who I considered a sister. Turned against me, and for what?
"You know Shadow Stalker?" Amy sounded - dazed. "I'm - I'm in the bunker. I…" Oh, she was on her phone again? That was - that was good. Victoria would… maybe feel something to know we were - or at least Amy - was safe.
"Meh." I grunted. "Thought she was meant to be a hero. Guess I need to use airquotes now."
"You're talking a lot of shit for someone whose ass I just saved."
"You didn't. If Lung's still going after Eden, I'm still in danger." I glared back. "Why would Lung even be going after Mom, anyway? That area isn't even his territory."
"We can't -" Amy started, before cutting herself off. "Taylor…"
"Well someone has to fucking tell me something!" I stood up and shouted. After a moment of silence, I whirled on Emma, grabbed her shoulders, and got in her face. "You know. You've known this whole fucking time." I growled, the noise distorted by my fucked up throat. "Now tell me what happened."
"Taylor you really shouldn't -" Amy was approaching me, cautious but quickly. Sophia's eyes darted behind her mask between us, and Emma -
Emma's lips wobbled, but she took a deep breath, looked at me with welling eyes…
"Eyes, ears, nose, or lips?"
I froze. Hands clenching so hard Emma whimpered, glistening trails of tears down her cheeks. Amy lunged, just as Sophia did the same -
"Pick."
It all came rushing back.
-.-.-
Special thanks to my lovely co-author and wife, @hellgodsrus, without whom I would never would have been able to take part in creating half my fics, and our girlfriend @SolarFlare for being awesome and also betaing! Also special thanks Prime Betas @Tamahori and @32nd_freeze and @Ganurath for being betas and feeding me validation and feedback between updates! Excitement!
Homesteads
6.7
-.-.-
"What the fuck is going on?" I took in the burning surroundings -
How had we not been stopped by cordons? How had this much damage snuck up on us? I knew the answers to both, of course - the cordon was further down the burning road, and we were distracted by each other.
Amy was already slamming the car into reverse, almost making me drop the food. "This much fire there's only one likely cause and if he's going after Eden then I'm not throwing you into danger."
"Amy - I'm already there." Was I going to suddenly just - drop dead without any idea why? Would I feel it as I boiled alive in the nutrient fluid? Like a lobster in a pot?
Her gaze flicked to me, wide and panicked. "I know!"
"Fuck - fuck, what do we do?! I mean, someone has to have told the PRT already, right? Would they even risk a fight with Lung?" No, they won't, some part of my mind said. But it's convenient to let one threat remove another before intervening.
"With this much fire around? Someone already has risked a fight with him and let it drag on way too long - " Amy slammed her hand into the steering wheel repeatedly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! If - the Empire wouldn't let him escalate that much unless they did it deliberately because collateral damage, if it's your mother - "
I wanted to believe Mom would be the one to find a way to take down Lung, maybe with some kind of esoteric Otachi-Acid or something, but - "She'd probably go for the kill, if she thought Lung had a chance of hurting me. So not good odds..." I whimpered, hair-tails flicking - "I could - I could switch and check?"
"Don't - PRT would be on their way to provide assistance and firefighting and damage control - CHRIST!"
That was because the building behind us disintegrated in a cloud of brickdust and flame - Amy swerved the car and I jerked into the window, seatbelt pressing tight against me h4nd o\/er my ch35t - blinking rapidly.
Amy was screaming, swearing, the wheels of the car were screaming -
Something massive through the smoke and flame -
My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to tear its way out of my throat. Amy swerved the car sideways - there was another car there, blue, half-turned so it covered a chunk of the road - people were sprinting down the street away -
There was - something sharp - digging into my stomach - the box - gripping it tightly like it was a lifeline. Need to warn Mom need to get help need to escape - why now?! Why did they have to fight tonight?!
Someone in the street ahead. Figures. At first I thought - heroes, Protectorate, safe. Then Amy swore and u-turned the car - back towards the fire.
"What's going on?! Weren't those -" Heroes? Civilians? Please don't tell me they're Empire and you opted against running them over...
"Not running into Krieg right now. Shit, shit, shit. Phone, get my phone, get my phone and call C-Carol and Vicky, do it, do it!" When I hesitated - "Back pocket!"
Right. Not the time to be feeling around - there it was. She - didn't have a lock? Or this was her 'work' phone and - not the time. Phonebook, phonebook - fucking fuckity fuck not how this day was meant to go! Dial faster! - Flash of green on my right, flash of orange on my left, heat and a noise.
It wasn't a roar. This was like something - bass, primal. Eldritch. From lowest note to highest in one long uninterrupted crescendo. And there was something more to it, a - a part that sounded.
Human.
Voicemail. FUCKING VOICEMAIL?! "FUCK YOU, VICKY!" I shouted, "WE'RE DEALING WITH LUNG AND YOU LEAVE US TO GO TO VOICEMAIL?!" End call. Texting - texting was very difficult when the road was not smooth at all.
"Why'd you call her personal phone of course she's not going to - call the New Wave Glory Girl one - "
Fucking - AGH! I sent the text - which was 'Lung' but with a bunch of typoes - and hit New Wave Glory Girl. Dialling… dialling - fireballs overhead that made me want to curl up and cry because there was n()th1ng I cou|_d d0 -
"Taylor? TAYLOR!"
My head was resting against the car door. We weren't - we weren't moving - the phone was lying in my lap, buzzing uselessly -
"We need to get out, the road's blocked. Okay? There's an Endbringer shelter nearby, I have an emergency code, we can be safe in there but I need you to - Taylor, please just talk to me - "
"I -" I made a noise. Not a grunt, or keening, or whimpering, just - a noise. "I can't - remember -" Why was the phone buzzing, when did we stop moving, why - where were we? I tried to push her phone into her hand and undo my seatbelt.
"Shit, shit, shitshit - Victoria? You - please - yes, yes we're - yeah near Hope Street - yell at us later just please - god this is all my fault I should just - " Hand on my shoulder, fumbling with my belt, keeping me from catching the last two words. "I'll get her to safety first - Taylor? Talk to me."
"I'm alive?" Everything was kinda blurry. Like I was looking through a window I could see a reflection of myself in. "I don't know what to say." Dragging the belt over my face and - and was it safe to open the door? "Fraying. Everything's - fraying."
"You're alive, you'll stay alive, I promise, I'll keep you alive - you - you idiot." Hand pushing me. "We need to go now. We need to go now!"
Touch on my neck - shot of energy, like a jolt through my whole system - I could hear my heart pounding like a machine gun. Like it wanted to burst. Opening the door and the heat washed over me like I was in front of the oven, the horizon the colour of Mom's lasagna. Orange. And flickering yellow and - move don't just stand here move follow Amy she knows where to go - following Amy. Across a road that felt like it was trying to stick to my shoes, stumbling - Amy's hand in mine, "Come on, come on, come on!"
Into an alleyway - slightly cooler? - skin was feeling drenched in sweat, shirt sticking to my skin, Amy's hand slick in mine.
"Fuck!" she stopped suddenly, someone ahead of us, I didn't stop in time and they suddenly hooked an arm around my neck, stopping me dead. "Taylor! Let her go!"
"She'd fit in at the f4arm -" ha4n|)s in tithe wr-()ng p|4c3s=
| Sscr3ame|) 4nd 7hRash3d-
Breathing hard. Fist was - wet. Man on the ground in front of me, head cracked open and spilling sizzling red across the tarmac, smoke in my lungs, something hard up against my knuckles deep in crimson flesh -
I vomited. The fries - didn't taste so great the second time around.
"N-no time -" Amy grabbed my dry hand and hauled me along, my nausea vanishing. The physical nausea. Did I just kill someone? What was I - I don't remember - when did I put my fist through his throat -
Another not-roar horrifying screech, closer, and a surge of heat on my left, like opening an oven door. Amy stumbled, pulled me along faster, her hand a tight grip on my forearm.
I ran after her. Normally my longer legs would make it easy to outpace her, but in my frayed-reality stumbling, I was just barely keeping up. So much heat, so many bright lights reflected in broken glass, sh4rp th1ng5 ev3rywh3r3 - I barely stopped myself before slamming into Amy, vision blurred - not heat haze. Tears?
"Taylor, y-you need to listen to me, okay? We're really close to the shelter now. You n-need to get inside and call Victoria again, okay?"
"Y'ur - comin' with me." I - my head felt so heavy it wasn't mine it wasn't mine - feebly trying to return her grip on me, pain in my palms from my claws, which - which body was I blinking with? "R-right?"
"... yes." She smiled and even through the blurring I could tell it was wide and lying, her eyes full of tears. "We're really close now. Just a bit further."
"F-fine, but -" Why would she stay out here why would she leave me why - "P-please -" she was already moving again, tugging my arm. There was so much smoke in the air it hurt to breathe even though I wasn't coughing. Had to be - had to be Amy. She had her face in her elbow, squinting ahead -
Voices. Accents. Gunfire? Shouting and yelling that echoed in tH3 (e11 - down the street with the roaring of the flames and the call of sirens. Figures - closer, shapes, a shout and Amy's hand tightened on my arm -
More ABB. More yelling, some of it - one of the figures recoiled and fell to the ground, something bouncing off his head. I turned around, pulling back Amy and pressing us against the wall, the bricks scorchingly hot on my back - like stepping on the pavement bare-foot in summer - in the hopes we wouldn't be seen, burying my face in her hair.
"Th - "
The word ended in a gurgle. The gang members were dropping - a short figure in black zipping between them with brutal grace. One turned towards us but there was a loud clap, a noise like thunder - gunshot - and someone in a baseball cap, red hair bouncing behind her ran up past the shattered mess that had been their head and pointed the gun at Amy.
"Let her go." Emma was - a mess. The messiest I'd seen her, ever. No makeup, bags under her eyes, hair frizzed and barely restrained in a ponytail, clumped with sweat and ash. Her clothes were baggy and she looked like a stereotype of a school shooter.
Which… didn't really make much sense, given last I knew, she was a popular kid, but - "Emma?" I croaked, not letting Amy go. She was squirming to turn around anyway, so I loosened my grip but - she was coming into the shelter with me. No matter how much she didn't want to. I wasn't - I wasn't going to let her stay out here in this mess.
"Hey, Taylor." Emma smiled - and then the world shook again and we all went stumbling - c4r r{}c|<ing -
"Come on, Hebert, you're tougher than this." Rough arm around my shoulders, glove and light pain on my cheek. "Come on, get up. Up we go, that's it." A battered hockey mask in my vision. "Ems, stop fucking around with Panacea and let's get going."
What was - where was Amy? What was Sophia doing here? Why? The broken all3yway was cl{}sed ()ff at one end, only - only way through -
I groaned and clutched at my aching head. "S-shelter?"
"Bad idea, closed in space. Come on, this way." Sophia's arm snapped up and the crossbow in it fired at something I didn't see. "Ems!"
"Coming, coming." Emma, still wide eyed and awful looking. Amy was with her, also looking pale and awful, Emma's gun pressed against her side.
Threatening s-someone I c4red ab()ut-
She was on the ground, gun dropped, curled in a ball, wheezing. Sophia was shouting. My shin ached, but Emma's gun wasn't aimed at Amy anymore. What had I -? When had I kicked her there? I -
Amy's hand on my shoulder. "Taylor. No. It's okay, it's alright - we need to - "
The street ahead of us exploded.
Sophia was there for a moment, then a black cloud, a piece of pavement the size of a bike flying through her, then she was there, then not - my feet weren't on the ground and I landed, tumbled, tarmac tearing at my skin, Amy curled against me, Emma's hand clutching at my ankle - the heat was unbearable.
"Shelter -" I gasped. "F'cking - shelter -"
Down the end of the road, through the collapsed mess of buildings, there were two shapes. Vaguely visible. A man with dirty blond hair, shirtless, surrounded by shifting metal forming outstretched pseudopods. And -
The thing wasn't a dragon. Digitigrade legs but they split into four stabilising hooves. Conical torso, like a wasp's stinger. Two of its arms were folded, the other two too short to reach. Three elbows. The wet red shape of wings. Silver and on brilliant white fire, too hot to look at for too long.
Shelter might be somewhere to be boiled alive, but at the same time, I doubted our ability to run from that, especially with me in such bad shape.
Should just lay down and die, buy them time, w-wake up in the tank -
" - UP, UP GET UP HEBERT AND DALLON - EMS GET THE FUCK UP - " Arms round me, hauling me upright, dragging Amy with me. "RUN RUN RUN RUN - "
I held on to Amy's hand and ran, directionless. Amy was - too slow. Picked her up, bridal, and - and this was much easier. Emma's clammy hand grabbed my arm - Sophia was running beside us, outpacing us -
"Go right!" Amy shouted in my ear - probably the only way to be heard - and I started turning. This way to the shelter? Down another street, weaving between abandoned cars and piles of charred and bleeding meat -
Emma's hand tightened on my arm. "Shelter or car?!"
"Shelter!" Sophia's voice was loud. "This way c'mon, c'mon!"
It felt like we weren't making much distance from the blinding monster and its screeching. It was all too surreal, too frayed, too hard to - think. Just act. Just act. Follow. Trust the untrustworthy. Survive.
Down the street. The shelter was almost a building unto itself, and an airlock to keep the weather out. I'd been in one before, during the drills, of course, but the experience escaped me. I knew you needed codes to get in, unless the Endbringer Sirens had gone off, but I didn't know if they'd be staffed right now, if people would be trying to get in to hide from the Ragnarok-like apocalypse going on out here.
It was… empty. So terrifyingly empty. Sophia clattered down the stairs, slamming buttons - doors shifted, metal creaked in response and gloriously cold air poured across me. Letting Amy down to the floor, staggering inside - I could rest. I'd - I'd made it. I could rest now.
No. No, there was - one more thing I had to do before I could.
My hand came down on Emma's shoulder. Close to her neck. I loomed over her as I said, "Point a gun at Amy again - if she doesn't kill you, I will."
"She's working for your mother you idiot." Emma slapped my hand away - then hugged me tightly. "You fucking moron. You utter - you utter blathering imbecile."
I didn't hug her back. "I trust her more than I trust you." Didn't - something happen? I was - meant to be trusting Emma more or something. But it all escaped me. "Verify, right?" I pushed her away and - and there were beds. Bunk beds, but still. I took Amy to one and sat down, not letting her out of my - my sight? My attention? Had to keep her here and not out there.
It was so bright. So br1ght and cl34n. Surreal, soundproofed, just - just the sounds of us breathing and the barely-perceptible hum of the lighting, the whirring of the AC. My heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was so hard to keep my eyes open, keep them focused.
"Jesus, Hebert, you sure fucking know how to find yourself in… whatsit, in conundrums."
"Remember when you were one of them, Hess?" I spat back. "We're all so worried about what my mother's done to me, we've hardly had a chance to talk about what a 'conundrum' you made of Emma." Of my former best friend. Of someone who I considered a sister. Turned against me, and for what?
"You know Shadow Stalker?" Amy sounded - dazed. "I'm - I'm in the bunker. I…" Oh, she was on her phone again? That was - that was good. Victoria would… maybe feel something to know we were - or at least Amy - was safe.
"Meh." I grunted. "Thought she was meant to be a hero. Guess I need to use airquotes now."
"You're talking a lot of shit for someone whose ass I just saved."
"You didn't. If Lung's still going after Eden, I'm still in danger." I glared back. "Why would Lung even be going after Mom, anyway? That area isn't even his territory."
"We can't -" Amy started, before cutting herself off. "Taylor…"
"Well someone has to fucking tell me something!" I stood up and shouted. After a moment of silence, I whirled on Emma, grabbed her shoulders, and got in her face. "You know. You've known this whole fucking time." I growled, the noise distorted by my fucked up throat. "Now tell me what happened."
"Taylor you really shouldn't -" Amy was approaching me, cautious but quickly. Sophia's eyes darted behind her mask between us, and Emma -
Emma's lips wobbled, but she took a deep breath, looked at me with welling eyes…
"Eyes, ears, nose, or lips?"
I froze. Hands clenching so hard Emma whimpered, glistening trails of tears down her cheeks. Amy lunged, just as Sophia did the same -
"Pick."
It all came rushing back.
-.-.-
- Location
- Puerto Rico
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Oh, boy. Here comes the bad times.
Taliserian
(Unverified Verifiable)
- Location
- ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha
- Pronouns
- They/Them
"WRONG. Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."
Lab_Accident
A 2D 1D4
- Location
- Your dreams
... I sense kaiju rampage incoming. Please be kaiju rampage incoming.
Both because I couldn't stand the suicidal, eternally screaming sad-times and because KAIJU RAMPAGE!
Edit: also, where the hell is Flare?
Both because I couldn't stand the suicidal, eternally screaming sad-times and because KAIJU RAMPAGE!
Edit: also, where the hell is Flare?
Last edited:
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yes, but first is the flashback chapter
Green flare she popped
SolarFlare
(Verified Cape)
- Location
- Brockton Bay, USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Not suicidal enough to fight someone potentially immune to plasma and with an even better brute rating than Hookwolf. Especially not with a bad gash in one leg.
