BBBence1111
Harbinger of Bad Luck
- Location
- Magyarország
Are you saying that we might see more of the "Adventures of Headmaster"?
- Status
- Location
- Maine
- Pronouns
- They/Them/Theirs
That's the plan, yes. There will be more Headmaster/Spudmaster, but I don't want to get ahead of the story. While I can probably assume that things will remain the same, it'd be a shame if I assumed that Piggot was going to stay in power only for Skidmark to lead a decapitation strike against the PRT.
Or something. Point is, if Weld doesn't get transferred over(for instance) because not that many people died to Leviathan, he can't get busted up by Echidna. If Mouse Protector gets transferred up, half of Bonesaw's plans get axed.
Headcrash is safe though. All that requires is that Saint doesn't take down Dragon in the next two updates.
- Location
- It's a whole new world we live in
Yeah, the only thing keeping her there is Brooke. And who says she can't take her with her?Or Taylor goes Rogue, selling to both sides of the street, hero and villain, advertising prosthetic limbs that "won't cost an arm and a leg"I think it could be argued that Pandora's exclusive contract with the Empire 88 died with Kaiser and the destruction of the workshop he provided.
Has it though? Armsy's inroads are gone, but MM was there for most of the meetings too. I mean, she's known about SS for most of the story right? So they really aren't burnt any more than they ever were.
I mean the PRT is tainted by association with one of her bullies. It's possible she'll join up (she did in canon) but it's unlikely to be a simple "I woke up and decided I was over being bullied and am now okay with you keeping Sophia Hess on a frayed leash instead of dropping her down a very dark hole somewhere"
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yes, it has. Remember, she was bullied for years by someone allegedly on probation, they only gave a shit about her once she was linked to the Empire, in her mind.
That's not really showing their good side, especially since well, given Coil's a PRT consultant.....
Once is a accident, twice a coincidence, all it takes is one more bad experience with them before she assumes they have it out for her.
EDIT: There's also their showing at the dinner. And by showing, I mean their inability to handle the Travelers without needing the aid of Taylor and her BFF. Seriously, that should've ended in the Travelers being taken down hard by the PRT before Taylor gets out of her chair.
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- Location
- It's a whole new world we live in
I dunno, I still think you guys are projecting your own biases a bit here. I definitely remember armsy, if not actually saying it out loud, at least mentally making a mea culpa, and thinking about how to fix it. Mostly to get access to her tech, but well...
- Location
- The Internet?
Headcanon? (Also, how had someone not made this joke yet? I think, didn't see it anywhere else...)
You can't challenge someone's headcanon with facts and logic!
My precious money! It's not fitting through the screen to make this happen faster! I had to type this on another computer because some anonymous hero shoved a fistful of money through my last one for completely unrelated reasons...
EDIT: I saw a trailer and then this thing happened.
Colin's itty bitty legs twitch and skitter, tilting the helm up as the dropper above him drips. He blinks the solution around his remaining eye; quite literally itching to get back to work on the Nose-Scratcher 2.0; something capable of soothing the itch and also wiping at his eyes. The mini-berd might have been effective for a lot of things, but he hasn't looked at it since it took away half his field of vision. Then again... he can fit more components behind the eye-patch at least.
His integrated comm pings with Dragon's call request. His friend had come through, the Spartoi Program was a success. He'd managed to work the jump jets into the base of his helm, between all the spider-legs, while she was working on that for him.
The mechanical legs bent, and he hopped into the air, the small flame burning out beneath him, launching him further as the legs folded together into stabilizing fins, guiding him towards the way point on his HUD. There, ahead of him at the end of the hall was the slate grey robot body, waiting for activation. He swiveled around a passing Gallant and soared through the fluttering sheaf of papers that were scattered into the air at his approach, Corporal Wilhelm was far too jumpy, Colin noted. Scoffing at the man as his thruster heated the air below him, Heads-master approached his Lander.
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Chapter XXIV: Condition
Banjofrog
Amphibian Folk Star
--Ex Machina--
Chapter XXIV: Condition
I woke up with a start, taking a second to reorient myself as all my systems booted back up. My eyelids fluttered open as the camera feed flickered to life and I looked around the room. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Brooke's sleeping form, the blanket over her softly rising and falling with her breath.
I checked the time on my HUD, 5:28; I suspected that no one else in the house had woken up yet, so as quietly as I could, I lifted the pile of blankets off of me and extracted myself from the couch where I had slept.
I stepped off to the side and pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a hoodie on over my undershirt. That finished, I silently crept out of the room, the door's well-oiled hinges not emitting a single sound as I closed it behind me.
I walked down the hallway and padded down the stairs, my feet absorbing any sound made by their impact with the hardwood floors as I made my way to the kitchen.
I rounded the corner, intent on finding myself a glass of milk or orange juice when the sound of a rustling page stopped me still. I felt a light grin stretch across my face as I dropped into a crouch and peeked around the corner.
Sure enough, Victor was sitting at the breakfast bar, perpendicular to me, with some sort of newspaper laid out in front of him (I knew it wasn't the local one, as the Brockton Bay Bugle's printing building had gotten smashed by Leviathan, but perhaps he was reading Boston or New York's paper, or just an old issue).
I moved forward, keeping myself out of his peripheral vision and skulked around the side wall of the kitchen until I was behind him. I crept forward until I could hear his light breathing as he perused the pages and stopped to grin to myself, today I'd got him.
I made to step forward and claim my victory, but before I could lay my foot down, a familiar voice called out from in front of me.
"Why, good morning Taylor, you're up early, come, sit down, grab a cup of coffee or something."
I let out a huff and stood up, walking around the side of the breakfast bar so I could sit down at one of the stools. Once sat, I looked up at Victor, noting with bemusement the satisfied grin marking his features.
After a few seconds he reached over and patted the hand I had resting on the countertop, looking up at me with eyebrows knit in such a convincing expression of concern I almost bought it.
"Hey, it's alright, maybe you'll get me tomorrow. For future reference, rounding corners tends to be the time you're most easily seen, so do try to avoid doing so until whoever it is you're avoiding is looking completely away."
He finished with a benevolent smile on his face as he dispensed his advice. I kept the bemused expression on my face unchanged for a few seconds while we stared unblinkingly at each other before switching my eyes' display to a pair of solid gold orbs.
As I did, he snickered and looked away, taking a drink from his coffee cup before looking back over at me. After a moment of deliberation, he snapped his newspaper shut and stood up.
"Well, if you're awake already, might as well get some training done before the other two wake up, you're still not really trained in anything substantial and with the way things are going, you'll need it sooner rather than later."
At his words he turned on his heel, making his way over to the basement door. I spent a brief few seconds lamenting the glossing over of my promised cup of coffee before I hopped off the stool and followed him down.
I padded down the stairs after him, turning left at the landing to get to the unfinished part of the basement, where Brooke's dad had had a workshop set up. All the tools and workbenches were slid up against the far wall, leaving a fairly large space in the middle of the concrete-floored room clear of any obstacles. In the far corner, the house's backup generator chugged away, with spare tanks of fuel set nearby.
When Victor had made his way to the other side of the clearing, he spun on his heel to turn and face me. Instinctively, I spread my feet apart a bit and dropped into a lower stance. I was rewarded with an approving nod as Victor matched my movements from across the room.
"Good," he said, "Lets warm up a bit before we go into any training, show me what you can remember." As he finished, he slid forward, body perpendicular to me. I started to slide around to my right to get into his peripheral vision before striking in, leading with a feint to his upper arm before dropping down to strike at his leading leg.
--Ex Machina--
Victor was a very good teacher, I thought as I clambered up the stairs after him. He was able to transition easily between joking to lighten the mood and being stern enough to get me to pay attention. It helped that about an hour in, the sweat had started sticking his white t-shirt to him, letting me see his corded muscles pulling and stretching as he moved.
They were very nice, even if they were horribly inefficient.
After the initial sparring Victor had worked with me to continue developing the style that the two of us had been developing for me to use in hand-to-hand, a mixture of judo and Brazilian jiu-jitsu. According to Victor, the increased mass granted by my metallic augmentations would let me find leverage more easily to take my opponents to the ground, where I could restrain or sedate them more easily.
I had asked him last week what the point of all this really was, and why I couldn't just rely on my batons and sleep darts and whatever else I eventually augmented myself with. My inquiry prompted him to go on something of a tirade about the many and varied forms that superpowers can take and the need to have more than one backup plan, the idea behind learning the philosophy of fighting, how to identify and respond to threats and read the flow of a fight, as well as the distinct possibility that my opponents could simply wear body-armor that covered enough to make it very difficult to sedate them without first restraining them.
In the end I had acquiesced, as it made a certain bit of sense and was a good break from tinkering in the workshop all day, though following Leviathan's attack I regretted not taking full advantage of the facility while I still had access.
I finished my introspection as I topped the staircase and entered the kitchen, where the other occupants of the house had finally decided to get up. Brooke and Odette were sitting on stools at the breakfast bar, a plate of toast in front of each. At our entrance, their conversation stopped as they looked over.
I caught Brooke taking a long look at Victor before I caught her eyes and flashed her a cheeky smirk, which she returned with a toothy grin of her own. In the meantime, Odette had leapt off her stool and not-quite-ran over to Victor, where she began inspecting his arms, where an appreciable collection of bruises had formed as a result of my strikes and throws.
Before my eyes, they faded away, eliciting a sigh of relief from him. He stepped forward to hug her in gratitude, but Odette slid backwards out of reach before he was able. He pressed a hand to his heart, and feigned a great pain, bus she merely wrinkled her nose at him and pointed at the staircase to the upper floor.
"I can't regenerate the sweat off of you, go take a shower," she scolded him in that faint little accent of hers. Victor spent another moment or two espousing his agony before giving up and heading upstairs to the house's remaining bathroom with running well-water.
I slid my way onto the stool next to Brooke and stole a triangle of toast from her plate, never more glad of my decision to remove my sweat glands in favor of a few heat-sinks dotted along my legs and back.
I made to raise the pilfered toast to my mouth and take a bite, but before I could, it floated out of my hand and situated itself neatly back on Brooke's plate. She smiled sweetly up at me as I stared heartbroken at the triple-crossing breakfast food until Odette interrupted us.
"I can make you some of your own Taylor," Odette offered, indicating the open loaf of bread sitting on the counter. At my assent, she slid a pair of slices into the toaster and pressed down the lever before coming back to the counter to join Brooke and me.
"So do you two have any plans for the day?" Odette asked us.
I started to shake my head, but Brooke spoke up before I was able to respond.
"I was planning on heading downtown to help clear rubble again, not a lot else to do and people always have the funniest expressions when they see me helping," she said with a mischievous grin. "I'm assuming you're heading over to the hospital area," Brooke continued, looking over at Odette, who nodded her confirmation.
"That was the plan, yes. Victor has administrative work to do, so he'll be staying here though. What about you, Taylor?" She asked, looking back at me.
I thought for a moment before responding. "I don't know how much help I can be in the medical center the entire time, but I can make up another batch of bio-gel for the doctors there. Then maybe go look for survivors or people trapped in the rubble?"
As I finished, I cycled the display on my eyes a few times to accentuate the x-ray capabilities I could use to find survivors or… victims. Odette nodded at my idea.
"That sounds like a good plan. It will be good to be seen aiding the city's recovery efforts. Even if most of the mainstream media outlets won't report it, word will get around, and we need to build up a reputation if we want to take back any power in the city."
As she finished, the toaster popped and the upper edges of my breakfast made themselves visible. Odette made herself busy retrieving and buttering them, despite my insistence that I could do so and not to trouble herself with it. After a few seconds of trying to argue my way into preparing my own toast, I admitted defeat and let her make it for me.
I took a bite as I also explained that I was apparently due a visitor later today and described Tattletale's call last night. Odette looked pleased when I explained her offer to fund a new workshop, though Brooke still twisted her expression downward at the mere mention of the other blonde.
I shrugged it off as I finished my toast and stood up, taking my dish over to the sink. As I rinsed it, I noticed the other two getting up and throwing their cloaks over their shoulders in preparation to go out. When I finished rinsing the dish and had placed it in the drying rack, I took a look at Brooke's impatient face, shot her a winning smile and teleported up the projector I still had installed up in her room, where what passed for my costume these days, a grey turtleneck and black trench coat with dull gold highlights, had been thrown over the arm of the couch where I had slept the last few nights.
I quickly changed, purposefully not extruding my visor, as it served no purpose anyway, and the rest of the Empire had, by unspoken agreement, forgone masks since Coil's outing, and headed down the hallway to the conservatory, where Rune and Othala were waiting for me, dressed in their costumes, sans the matching lacquered masks of course.
Rune and I stepped onto the circular stone in the center of the room while Othala pulled the switch to open the windows before joining us. When she joined us on the stone, making the fit a bit tight but not uncomfortably so, it lifted up into the air and forward through the window, carrying the three of us over toward the ruined skyline of Brockton Bay.
--Ex Machina--
Victor pulled the last of the meat out of the crock-pot from across the kitchen as Brooke, Odette, and I sat around the table, waiting for dinner with no small amount of impatience.
After what seemed like an agonizingly long time, Victor finally made his way over to the table, a platter with the steaming roast beef held carefully in one hand. He placed it down on the table and slid into his chair, eyeing the plate in front of him. After he caught Odette's eye and shot her a quick grin, he pulled the platter over to himself and put some of the piping-hot meat on his plate, alongside the salad and potatoes that I had prepared with Odette.
Once he was finished, he passed the platter around, each of the four of us filling our plates before anyone said anything. Once Brooke had finished mounding her plate with a rather overlarge helping of the entrée and setting the platter back on the table, Victor spoke up.
"Alright folks, this is the last of the fresh food we have, there's rations starting to come into the city, but I won't be able to promise anything like this for at least a little while, so eat up."
He punctuated his statement by spearing a mouthful of the meat with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. The rest of us followed his example, and took a bite of the dinner laid out in front of us.
After the prerequisite satisfied sighs and compliments on the flavor and texture of the food, Victor was a really good cook, the conversation moved on to out days' activities.
Odette started by describing how her day at the medical center went. Apparently Caduceus and Asclepius had elected to stay in the city until the end of the week, so Odette had worked with the two of them, as well as Panacea and some PRT and civilian doctors, to help the civilians who had been hurt in the shelters or the few who had been found surviving in the rubble.
…
Victor was halfway through a positively fascinating dissertation on his work to salvage Medhall assets when he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell chiming through the house. I flicked my eyes to the digital clock on my HUD and swore under my breath.
The display readout said that it was exactly 5:00 P.M. I got up to answer the door, but before leaving the table, I spared a moment to glance at the other three. Victor looked a little miffed that his tale was interrupted, while Odette tried to hide a smile beneath a hand she raised to her face. Brooke just poked at what remained on her plate, looking nettled as I walked my way over the front door to let in our guest.
The doorbell chimed again the second I had put my hand on the handle. I readied my dart launcher in case it was someone other than my expected guest and opened the door, stepping backwards as it swing in.
I was greeted by the sight of a smugly smirking dirty blonde perhaps a year older than myself, with a thick folio tucked beneath the stump of her left arm. As she caught sight of me, I noted her bottle-green eyes darting around as if to drink in all the information they could glean. Despite having never seen her unmasked before, I knew immediately that it was the person I had been expecting, though the tag I saw floating above her head also kind of gave her away.
When she caught sight of me, she broke into a wide, uncomfortably smug, grin and stepped over the threshold into the foyer of the house, smoothly closing the door behind her.
"Hello, Tattletale." I said after a few seconds.
"Hello," she quickly responded in a sing-song voice, the smug grin never leaving her face. "We've got lots to go over, so let's get to work."
At that she brushed past me with an overly-large, apologetic smile and all but skipped into the kitchen ahead of me.
I let out a long sigh as I flicked shut the deadbolt in the door and turned to follow her in.
--Ex Machina--
Chapter XXIV: Condition
I woke up with a start, taking a second to reorient myself as all my systems booted back up. My eyelids fluttered open as the camera feed flickered to life and I looked around the room. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Brooke's sleeping form, the blanket over her softly rising and falling with her breath.
I checked the time on my HUD, 5:28; I suspected that no one else in the house had woken up yet, so as quietly as I could, I lifted the pile of blankets off of me and extracted myself from the couch where I had slept.
I stepped off to the side and pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a hoodie on over my undershirt. That finished, I silently crept out of the room, the door's well-oiled hinges not emitting a single sound as I closed it behind me.
I walked down the hallway and padded down the stairs, my feet absorbing any sound made by their impact with the hardwood floors as I made my way to the kitchen.
I rounded the corner, intent on finding myself a glass of milk or orange juice when the sound of a rustling page stopped me still. I felt a light grin stretch across my face as I dropped into a crouch and peeked around the corner.
Sure enough, Victor was sitting at the breakfast bar, perpendicular to me, with some sort of newspaper laid out in front of him (I knew it wasn't the local one, as the Brockton Bay Bugle's printing building had gotten smashed by Leviathan, but perhaps he was reading Boston or New York's paper, or just an old issue).
I moved forward, keeping myself out of his peripheral vision and skulked around the side wall of the kitchen until I was behind him. I crept forward until I could hear his light breathing as he perused the pages and stopped to grin to myself, today I'd got him.
I made to step forward and claim my victory, but before I could lay my foot down, a familiar voice called out from in front of me.
"Why, good morning Taylor, you're up early, come, sit down, grab a cup of coffee or something."
I let out a huff and stood up, walking around the side of the breakfast bar so I could sit down at one of the stools. Once sat, I looked up at Victor, noting with bemusement the satisfied grin marking his features.
After a few seconds he reached over and patted the hand I had resting on the countertop, looking up at me with eyebrows knit in such a convincing expression of concern I almost bought it.
"Hey, it's alright, maybe you'll get me tomorrow. For future reference, rounding corners tends to be the time you're most easily seen, so do try to avoid doing so until whoever it is you're avoiding is looking completely away."
He finished with a benevolent smile on his face as he dispensed his advice. I kept the bemused expression on my face unchanged for a few seconds while we stared unblinkingly at each other before switching my eyes' display to a pair of solid gold orbs.
As I did, he snickered and looked away, taking a drink from his coffee cup before looking back over at me. After a moment of deliberation, he snapped his newspaper shut and stood up.
"Well, if you're awake already, might as well get some training done before the other two wake up, you're still not really trained in anything substantial and with the way things are going, you'll need it sooner rather than later."
At his words he turned on his heel, making his way over to the basement door. I spent a brief few seconds lamenting the glossing over of my promised cup of coffee before I hopped off the stool and followed him down.
I padded down the stairs after him, turning left at the landing to get to the unfinished part of the basement, where Brooke's dad had had a workshop set up. All the tools and workbenches were slid up against the far wall, leaving a fairly large space in the middle of the concrete-floored room clear of any obstacles. In the far corner, the house's backup generator chugged away, with spare tanks of fuel set nearby.
When Victor had made his way to the other side of the clearing, he spun on his heel to turn and face me. Instinctively, I spread my feet apart a bit and dropped into a lower stance. I was rewarded with an approving nod as Victor matched my movements from across the room.
"Good," he said, "Lets warm up a bit before we go into any training, show me what you can remember." As he finished, he slid forward, body perpendicular to me. I started to slide around to my right to get into his peripheral vision before striking in, leading with a feint to his upper arm before dropping down to strike at his leading leg.
--Ex Machina--
Victor was a very good teacher, I thought as I clambered up the stairs after him. He was able to transition easily between joking to lighten the mood and being stern enough to get me to pay attention. It helped that about an hour in, the sweat had started sticking his white t-shirt to him, letting me see his corded muscles pulling and stretching as he moved.
They were very nice, even if they were horribly inefficient.
After the initial sparring Victor had worked with me to continue developing the style that the two of us had been developing for me to use in hand-to-hand, a mixture of judo and Brazilian jiu-jitsu. According to Victor, the increased mass granted by my metallic augmentations would let me find leverage more easily to take my opponents to the ground, where I could restrain or sedate them more easily.
I had asked him last week what the point of all this really was, and why I couldn't just rely on my batons and sleep darts and whatever else I eventually augmented myself with. My inquiry prompted him to go on something of a tirade about the many and varied forms that superpowers can take and the need to have more than one backup plan, the idea behind learning the philosophy of fighting, how to identify and respond to threats and read the flow of a fight, as well as the distinct possibility that my opponents could simply wear body-armor that covered enough to make it very difficult to sedate them without first restraining them.
In the end I had acquiesced, as it made a certain bit of sense and was a good break from tinkering in the workshop all day, though following Leviathan's attack I regretted not taking full advantage of the facility while I still had access.
I finished my introspection as I topped the staircase and entered the kitchen, where the other occupants of the house had finally decided to get up. Brooke and Odette were sitting on stools at the breakfast bar, a plate of toast in front of each. At our entrance, their conversation stopped as they looked over.
I caught Brooke taking a long look at Victor before I caught her eyes and flashed her a cheeky smirk, which she returned with a toothy grin of her own. In the meantime, Odette had leapt off her stool and not-quite-ran over to Victor, where she began inspecting his arms, where an appreciable collection of bruises had formed as a result of my strikes and throws.
Before my eyes, they faded away, eliciting a sigh of relief from him. He stepped forward to hug her in gratitude, but Odette slid backwards out of reach before he was able. He pressed a hand to his heart, and feigned a great pain, bus she merely wrinkled her nose at him and pointed at the staircase to the upper floor.
"I can't regenerate the sweat off of you, go take a shower," she scolded him in that faint little accent of hers. Victor spent another moment or two espousing his agony before giving up and heading upstairs to the house's remaining bathroom with running well-water.
I slid my way onto the stool next to Brooke and stole a triangle of toast from her plate, never more glad of my decision to remove my sweat glands in favor of a few heat-sinks dotted along my legs and back.
I made to raise the pilfered toast to my mouth and take a bite, but before I could, it floated out of my hand and situated itself neatly back on Brooke's plate. She smiled sweetly up at me as I stared heartbroken at the triple-crossing breakfast food until Odette interrupted us.
"I can make you some of your own Taylor," Odette offered, indicating the open loaf of bread sitting on the counter. At my assent, she slid a pair of slices into the toaster and pressed down the lever before coming back to the counter to join Brooke and me.
"So do you two have any plans for the day?" Odette asked us.
I started to shake my head, but Brooke spoke up before I was able to respond.
"I was planning on heading downtown to help clear rubble again, not a lot else to do and people always have the funniest expressions when they see me helping," she said with a mischievous grin. "I'm assuming you're heading over to the hospital area," Brooke continued, looking over at Odette, who nodded her confirmation.
"That was the plan, yes. Victor has administrative work to do, so he'll be staying here though. What about you, Taylor?" She asked, looking back at me.
I thought for a moment before responding. "I don't know how much help I can be in the medical center the entire time, but I can make up another batch of bio-gel for the doctors there. Then maybe go look for survivors or people trapped in the rubble?"
As I finished, I cycled the display on my eyes a few times to accentuate the x-ray capabilities I could use to find survivors or… victims. Odette nodded at my idea.
"That sounds like a good plan. It will be good to be seen aiding the city's recovery efforts. Even if most of the mainstream media outlets won't report it, word will get around, and we need to build up a reputation if we want to take back any power in the city."
As she finished, the toaster popped and the upper edges of my breakfast made themselves visible. Odette made herself busy retrieving and buttering them, despite my insistence that I could do so and not to trouble herself with it. After a few seconds of trying to argue my way into preparing my own toast, I admitted defeat and let her make it for me.
I took a bite as I also explained that I was apparently due a visitor later today and described Tattletale's call last night. Odette looked pleased when I explained her offer to fund a new workshop, though Brooke still twisted her expression downward at the mere mention of the other blonde.
I shrugged it off as I finished my toast and stood up, taking my dish over to the sink. As I rinsed it, I noticed the other two getting up and throwing their cloaks over their shoulders in preparation to go out. When I finished rinsing the dish and had placed it in the drying rack, I took a look at Brooke's impatient face, shot her a winning smile and teleported up the projector I still had installed up in her room, where what passed for my costume these days, a grey turtleneck and black trench coat with dull gold highlights, had been thrown over the arm of the couch where I had slept the last few nights.
I quickly changed, purposefully not extruding my visor, as it served no purpose anyway, and the rest of the Empire had, by unspoken agreement, forgone masks since Coil's outing, and headed down the hallway to the conservatory, where Rune and Othala were waiting for me, dressed in their costumes, sans the matching lacquered masks of course.
Rune and I stepped onto the circular stone in the center of the room while Othala pulled the switch to open the windows before joining us. When she joined us on the stone, making the fit a bit tight but not uncomfortably so, it lifted up into the air and forward through the window, carrying the three of us over toward the ruined skyline of Brockton Bay.
--Ex Machina--
Victor pulled the last of the meat out of the crock-pot from across the kitchen as Brooke, Odette, and I sat around the table, waiting for dinner with no small amount of impatience.
After what seemed like an agonizingly long time, Victor finally made his way over to the table, a platter with the steaming roast beef held carefully in one hand. He placed it down on the table and slid into his chair, eyeing the plate in front of him. After he caught Odette's eye and shot her a quick grin, he pulled the platter over to himself and put some of the piping-hot meat on his plate, alongside the salad and potatoes that I had prepared with Odette.
Once he was finished, he passed the platter around, each of the four of us filling our plates before anyone said anything. Once Brooke had finished mounding her plate with a rather overlarge helping of the entrée and setting the platter back on the table, Victor spoke up.
"Alright folks, this is the last of the fresh food we have, there's rations starting to come into the city, but I won't be able to promise anything like this for at least a little while, so eat up."
He punctuated his statement by spearing a mouthful of the meat with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. The rest of us followed his example, and took a bite of the dinner laid out in front of us.
After the prerequisite satisfied sighs and compliments on the flavor and texture of the food, Victor was a really good cook, the conversation moved on to out days' activities.
Odette started by describing how her day at the medical center went. Apparently Caduceus and Asclepius had elected to stay in the city until the end of the week, so Odette had worked with the two of them, as well as Panacea and some PRT and civilian doctors, to help the civilians who had been hurt in the shelters or the few who had been found surviving in the rubble.
…
Victor was halfway through a positively fascinating dissertation on his work to salvage Medhall assets when he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell chiming through the house. I flicked my eyes to the digital clock on my HUD and swore under my breath.
The display readout said that it was exactly 5:00 P.M. I got up to answer the door, but before leaving the table, I spared a moment to glance at the other three. Victor looked a little miffed that his tale was interrupted, while Odette tried to hide a smile beneath a hand she raised to her face. Brooke just poked at what remained on her plate, looking nettled as I walked my way over the front door to let in our guest.
The doorbell chimed again the second I had put my hand on the handle. I readied my dart launcher in case it was someone other than my expected guest and opened the door, stepping backwards as it swing in.
I was greeted by the sight of a smugly smirking dirty blonde perhaps a year older than myself, with a thick folio tucked beneath the stump of her left arm. As she caught sight of me, I noted her bottle-green eyes darting around as if to drink in all the information they could glean. Despite having never seen her unmasked before, I knew immediately that it was the person I had been expecting, though the tag I saw floating above her head also kind of gave her away.
When she caught sight of me, she broke into a wide, uncomfortably smug, grin and stepped over the threshold into the foyer of the house, smoothly closing the door behind her.
"Hello, Tattletale." I said after a few seconds.
"Hello," she quickly responded in a sing-song voice, the smug grin never leaving her face. "We've got lots to go over, so let's get to work."
At that she brushed past me with an overly-large, apologetic smile and all but skipped into the kitchen ahead of me.
I let out a long sigh as I flicked shut the deadbolt in the door and turned to follow her in.
--Ex Machina--
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Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
D'aww....
At nearly 530AM? Nobody human is up at that time.
See what I mean?
Dang. I'm betting the stairs gave her away.
Nope, I was off.
Huh, kinda curious now. Dang strong gennie to be getting the whole house....
Down Taylor, you have Brooke, remember?
Just remember, free workshop that'll need a good bugsweeper, and once you're done, never gotta see her again.
- Location
- Brazil
I wonder if she can't do something to help it along?
You know, considering the current situation, maybe buying a good, German handgun should be on the plans? Make use of he her unnaturally stable hands and grip, alongside some basic bullshit tinkers tech to give her FPS crosshairs vision mod?
Also, can quote anymore, as my iPad's Safari is fickle like that, but I heartily approve of heat sinks instead of sweat, efficient, passive heat dissipation is always a win.
And when you got legitimate Adam Jessen shades, it doesn't matter you don't need to hide your identity anymore, not wearing them at all possible moments is pure heresy,
German (dubbed) hand-gun you say?
Of course, there is a superior option:
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Tisaku
Head Chief Thinkomancer
So how far she going with them cybernetics? Deus Ex style is lovely but for somethings like Endbringers or S9 or w/e, Genos from OPM is badass.
Them combi-arm cannons/jets.
Them combi-arm cannons/jets.
Wobulator
Within 1 AU of you!
- Location
- Mars
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yeah, but that's One Punch Man.
I don't think we can take it as a reasonable end goal.
It's a very bad idea to go to the ground with your opponent in a real fight. Even if it starts 1v1, there's always the possibility of reinforcements or 3rd party interference. The last time I saw someone go to the ground in a street fight, dude got kicked in the head by someone who was still standing (instant KO). And that's not even taking superpowers into account. I expected something aggressively to the point like Systema or Krav Maga along with Eskrima to use with the batons?
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Agreed. Judo might be okay purely from the aspect of using her superior strength to throw a guy into something else in the environment but actually going to the ground is a terrible idea (beyond potential problems of capes with powers they can still use while being grappled). I also would have expected something that leverages striking/speed more since she's above human baseline and can get more using that advantage (and any disadvantage of being grappled herself can be gotten around with augs of her own).
Eskrima would be a good idea for baton training, although I don't know enough about it to differentiate it from something like Okinawan Kobudo using the tanbo.
That said, I don't think that Judo and BJJ are a bad idea given what she can do and what she needs. While going to the ground is a bad idea in a street fight, this is a backup style to complement her other options, and give her another nonlethal option. For most targets, sleep darts work fine, or fighting with the batons. Armored targets could be a problem. Something like Krav Maga wouldn't add much in terms of versatility; she can already kill people barehanded if she wants to, and it's not likely to do anything to a target that can handle a beating from the batons.
Judo or BJJ might be useful against an armored opponent where strikes are not effective, and grappling gives her another way to subdue someone without risking a traumatic brain injury by bludgeoning them unconscious with the batons. There are also quite a few characters that have some sort of force field power (something like half of New Wave?) that grappling might work better against.
This isn't to say that Judo or BJJ is better than Krav Maga in a street fight, just that it offers better value for Taylor given what she can already do.
- Location
- Planet Earth
Why didn't Taylor speak for the first half of this chapter? Well, why wasn't any of her dialogue shown, to be specific. It seemed odd to me that she just walks up to Victor, has a staring contest for a minute, then they go to beat the shit out of each other, but Vic was the only one talking. Has this been constant through this fic and I'm only noticing it now, or I'm going mad?
Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
No, I have been thinking the same thing. The story seems to have shifted more and more to Taylor stating she said something, and not showing what she said.
Actually, it feels like conversations are reduced to Taylor stating they talked and here is the outcome. While it keeps the story moving, but I feel I might be missing some characterization.
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The Stormbringer
Worm Fanfic & Crack Connoisseur
- Location
- Spaaaaace~!
It's still depressing to see Taylor so quickly forget that all the amazing talents Victor had were stolen from people who had them. Certainly he likely took quite a few from elderly in hospitals and nursing homes, but for the rest? Don't count on it. I'm sure there were some prize winning chefs and martial arts masters left crushed and depressed after what he did to them.
Keep in mind that the loss is only permanent with long exposure. Symptoms of short exposure are easily rationalized away, making repeated short uses with plenty of time in between the most practical approach.
The Stormbringer
Worm Fanfic & Crack Connoisseur
- Location
- Spaaaaace~!
Sure, but the most efficient way to nab skills would be to to it all at once. It would save time and prevent a potential enemy from having access to it. There's no way he's gone around not abusing it. Been very careful and sneaky about it? Definitely, but there's got to be situations, probably in the beginning or situations where a target wouldn't be around long, that he just took it all.
- Status