- Location
- Little Rock, AR
Are you talking about Abyssals?Lancealot said:
Fiend: Thread Three, Thread Harder. [Exalted/Worm]
- Thread starter logiccosmic
- Start date
GSPs don't get punished for ignoring the Yozis. Sure, a rogue GSP loses the townhouse in hell, but there is lots of good real estate in all five Directions.Lancealot said:
I'd also argue that most GSP charms are no more mind-altering than charms belonging to the other Exalts. For example, GSPs using Cecelyne's wish-granting charms can use them to collect favors with compound interest, but there's nothing preventing them from handing out freebies. A small number of exceptions exist, but are avoidable.
logiccosmic
the Prince of Word Crimes
- Location
- the Hague, formerly
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Black Nadir 6.2
I left the building, carefully keeping my wings folded in the staircase, to keep them from snagging on something, followed by both Sundancer and Damsel. In the street, I turned back to them. How were we going to get anywhere, when only one of us could fly, and I didn't think I could carry both of them. Well, I had lifted Noelle, so it was well within the realm of possibility, but I had to be careful with Damsel -
Wait, wasn't she hurt?
"Damsel, weren't you knocked out in the hospital?" I asked, even more confused, as I noted that she was also walking unaided.
"Yeah, but they only did that when they figured I was Damsel. They slapped a needle full of something in my IV bag, and I was out," she explained, pulling up her pants leg to show her fully healed leg. Nothing but a faint scar remained, from where there had been bone poking out before.
"How'd you heal that fast?" I asked, somewhat irrationally jealous. I'd like to not have a skin like a bell foundry, even if it was just a temporary side effect from my healing power. Was that some application of her space-warping powers? How would that even work?
"No idea," she replied, shrugging. "I just woke up, dressed in a pair of sweats, bound and gagged, and with a fish monster telling me not to move."
"Fish monster," I repeated, "Do you mean Noelle? Did she try to, you know?"
"Who's Noelle? And what would she do?" Damsel quered, confused. She stopped looking at me, and at the street. The street, which had been the location for the beginning of Noelle's and I's rampage. Debris, from bricks to parts of cars, was scattered across the entire street. Huge dents in the pavement, from either one of us being slammed into the ground, dotted the road.
"What the hell happened here?" Damsel shouted, adding, "Did the Endbringer already show up?"
"Noelle," Sundancer and I both answered, in sync.
Daphne quickly glared at Sundancer, reminded of her presence, before she looked back at me and ignored Sundancer, even as Sundancer kept looking back at her. "Who's Noelle?"
"A long story, and we've got a bigger problem. The Endbringer," I answered, Sundancer nodding along.
"Endbringer, huh. I was hoping the alarm was a test. I've never actually fought against one," Damsel admitted. I didn't know her that well, truly, but even I could tell she was frightened. That she was a moment away from freaking out, or collapsing in panic. She shifted her weight, hands wringing, eyes downcast. She looked up at me quickly, before looking at her feet again.
"What," I said, impatient. "We've got to go."
She mumbled something, incomprehensible even at this short distance. The alarm's occasional bursts of sound didn't help make what she was saying any more comprehensible either.
"Daph- Damsel," I corrected myself, "It's already been several minutes since it went off, and we came up here to grab you. What?"
If anything, she looked even more guilty. Looking more like my junior than a woman four years my elder, she nearly whined, "I don't want to go."
"To help fight the Endbringer?" I asked, surprised. Maybe I should've been less surprised, considering that I knew she had been a villain rather than a vigilante, but even I knew about the truce between capes to fight Endbringers.
She shook her head, lips pressed into a tight line. And I could see she was terrified. The green glow had cast her skin into an attractive pallor, but she had gone ashen now. Her thin frame was shaking, ever so slightly, and not from the cold. She gave me a look, made of equal parts terror and hope.
"You don't have to come," I ventured. I wasn't going to force her -
She nearly jumped on me, arms clamping around my back to pull me into a tight hug. My shoulder, exposed through the hospital gown, started getting damp.
"Be safe, please," she whispered, trying to squeeze the air out of me.
"The apartment was bombed," I informed her.
She pulled away, surprised by my non-sequitur. "What?"
"The new apartment. It was bombed, so you will have to go to the old one. I don't have any keys either," I finished with a gesture at my lacking garments.
Damsel half-sobbed, half-giggled. "Way to ruin the moment. Be careful, okay?"
"You too. I don't know if the Mob found out about the first apartment -"
Sundancer interrupted, "Only the one by Central Park."
I continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "- but be careful, in case they have."
Damsel nodded, and ran off, one leg obviously a bit stiff. She yelled over her shoulder, "You better come back! I'm not moving your stuff!"
She turned a corner, out of our sight. Sundancer, now silent, looked over at my nearly torn gown. She glanced back and forth at it, and finally asked, "Do you want some of my clothes? I think we are about the same size. If you didn't want to fight in that, I mean."
"How long do you think the alarms have been going off for? We need to get to the assembly area before the Endbringer shows up."
"Seven minutes, since you picked me up, I think. Roughly twenty, overall." She said, after a brief bit of counting her fingers and whispering to herself.
"Pants," I blurted. I hastily corrected myself, "Yes. I would like some clothes."
"Whatever happened here, my stuff was untouched. Even when they left," Sundancer said, voice strained.
I grabbed her, and with a near instant flight, landed on the lip of the hole I had made shoving Noelle out onto the street. I set Sundancer down, and followed her in, wings nearly dragging on the floor. The hole was big, but fairly messy, with wood planks sticking out. I had kept my wings for nearly half an hour now, and I didn't want to have to regrow them. My reserves of energy for my powers were almost entirely empty, but for maybe a third of my lesser, inner pool.
Sundancer entered one of the bedrooms further in the apartment, nearly over what would be the entrance to the deli on the first floor. She came back, carrying a pair of jeans, a shirt, and underclothes.
"Thank you," I said, gratefully accepting actual clothes. She walked past me, and looked out the hole while I changed. I tore out the back of the t-shirt, to accommodate my wings, and held it out behind me.
"A little help, please."
Sundancer took the shirt from my outstretched hands, and after several aborted tries to get it over my wings, she finally just gave up. She walked away, doing who knew what in the kitchen, before dropping the shirt back in my hands. She had cut out a huge rectangle of fabric from the back, only leaving the seam at the bottom. It was cut too.
"Like a one-piece," she explained, motioning with her hands to explain.
"Ah." I slid my arms through shoulder holes, and let her handle the back. I could feel her tying the cut seam together, and then she stepped back.
"Good. Let's go."
I answered her by half-tackling, half-grabbing her, and jumping out of the apartment. Several swift beats of my wings later, we were rising, and I angled around, heading for Times Square. Where the PRT Headquarters was. The most likely place for everyone to assemble.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I could see spotlights, shimmering pillars of light, appearing solid from the dust in the air. At least a dozen had taken up residence in Times Square, and even with the distracting brightness they let off, I could see several capes flying in, going down for a landing among the spotlights. A cordon of PRT officers, trucks, vans, and armored vehicles surrounded the HQ, leaving a small portion of the street open. It had a dozen capes, with a pair landing just as I saw.
I headed down, not as bright as the surrounding spotlights, but still catching the eyes of the crowd of capes standing outside. Volcano, familiar from both the other night before my swim, and as a more senior member of the local Protectorate team, waved me down. He didn't look angry, which was a nice change from being, 'Oh no Defiler!' Until I dropped Sundancer down, landing behind her. Then his face, and several others among the group twisted, hate showing.
"Why the hell is one of them here?" he asked, hands coming up, instants away from igniting. He was a combination of Blaster/Mover, a protege of sorts to Legend. Of sorts, because he would never come close to Legend, or surpass him, both in power and presence.
"She is with me," I retorted, moving in front of Sundancer, adding, "any other problems? Or can we get started before the Endbringer shows up."
"Fine," he all but spat out, "But keep this one on a leash. The city is already half destroyed, thanks to them."
He turned on his heel, marching into the PRT building. All but two of the capes followed, as we were apparently the last call. One of them, a woman, looked at us, studiously neutral, while the man, who looked like he had been rolled through a flatbed of rock candy, glared at us. Or just looked at us, it was hard to tell.
"C'mon," I muttered to Sundancer. She followed me into the lobby I had escaped from earlier in the evening silently. Upset, likely, after being blamed for Noelle, again. She had to atone, yes. And she was partially at fault. But she didn't deserve the lion's share of the blame, and those capes out there had no idea what had happened. That Trickster had been the one at her side - and they had to have known that, on second thought, if they were blaming Sundancer. They must have seen Trickster helping Noelle, and now were painting Sundancer with the same brush. She hadn't tried to kill, or even killed, any of the responding heroes. She had killed one of her former friends, or teammates, who had gone bad, and was now helping me.
They could go get brain surgery. With rusted chainsaws.
I whispered to Sundancer, as I held open the door, "Fuck 'em. We stopped all that mess, not them."
Her head whipped back, and she stared at me. Self-conscious, I shrugged. "If I hadn't, with help from Legend, killed Noelle, there would be a million clones out there. If you hadn't killed Trickster, and the clones with him, they could have kept destroying the city. We did what we had to."
She nodded, off-balance, and fell in behind me as we followed the capes from the landing area. We went up a flight of stairs - marble with extensive trim, leaving me to wonder how much they spent on this building -, and into a massive conference room. It was more like a movie theater, than a conference room. Conference room implied a single table and chairs. This was rows of seats in front of a platform and screen. Sundancer took a seat in the upper corner farther from the door, and I stood behind her. Wings and seats were a worse combination than wings and jackets. Nervous conversations, full of forced cheer and empty laughter, filled the auditorium.
Director Wilkins walked out onto the stage, sound dying to down to a minimum, and he clicked a little remote. The lights went off, except for mine. He coughed, exaggerating it, and looked at me. I shrugged, helplessly, and I was embarrassed. I wasn't going full blast, but I was still bright enough that I could serve as a desk light for half the room. I wish I knew how to turn the lights off with just a thought. He clicked the lights back on, and hit a different button.
The most feared woman in the world.
Or, most feared woman-shaped thing. The Simurgh, in a picture taken in broad daylight, took up the entire screen. White wings, uncountable, covered her body, with the biggest three fully extended. A storm of metal was swirling in front of her, forming a large ring.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Less than an hour ago, the Simurgh appeared over Canberra."
I had thought the room was silent - now it was a tomb. The Simurgh. Behemoth was feared as a capekiller, but the Simurgh was terrifying. To not know if you were your own enemy. To know that you could be turned into a guided missile. Everyone had heard the horror stories, of entire towns being quarantined because they had been affected by her.
And she was what I had to face. Injured, and running on fumes. Sundancer balled up, bringing her knees to her chest, hugging them. I had people to look after - Damsel, and Sundancer, somewhat. They both had been dealt a bad hand - and I could turn them, if not on the straight and narrow, at least in the right direction. And this was just the first step, but a critical one. Placing her life in between others and a monstrous threat, again.
I put my hand on her shoulder, in a gesture my mom had done a thousand times. I leaned over, and whispered, "We can do it. Can't be tougher than evil clones."
Sundancer snorted, either amused or disgusted. On stage, Director Wilkins continued, "At which point she constructed a device, using the parts taken from Canberra, and teleported. To Montreal."
Shouts of shock, and denial echoed through the room. My stomach dropped out from my body, and tried to reach Australia. Humanity as a whole had been surviving, not winning the fights with the Endbringers. And one of the primary reasons any layman could tell you for our continued existence, was that they only attacked a single place before retreating.
No longer.
The crowd, composed of veteran capes, was now divided into two camps. Those who were stunned into silence, like myself and Sundancer, and those who thought if they could make enough noise, the Simurgh would go away. The Director put his hands to his mouth, and whistled.
"Listen up! No matter what she did before, we have to stop her in Montreal. Teleporters are going to be coming to pick all volunteers up, after Chicago and Los Angeles send their teams. Anyone who isn't willing, I'd suggest you leave. The city can use your help outside, too."
Several people, dressed like villains, stood, but all three - two men and a woman - were pulled down by their compatriots, and engaged in low, furious whispered conversations.
"Good," Wilkins looked at his phone, and announced, "Teleporters in seven minutes. The cafeteria is behind us, and we have gear, if any cape needs it. Seven minutes."
He walked off the stage, meeting an assistant. I pulled Sundancer up, hungry. It could be my last meal. And I didn't want to face the Simurgh on an empty stomach as well as empty powers.
"How can you be hungry, right now?" She asked, still following me as we left the auditorium.
"I think I'm in shock," I remarked, candidly, "Maybe it's a coping mechanism."
"Defiler!"
Hearing my cape name shouted, I turned back around, looking at who had come out of the auditorium to talk to me. Maybe a gang member, who had lost someone. Or someone who had known Sophia. I probably wouldn't be able to eat, but that had just been something to do, really. Something to take my mind off the -
Battery. A cape from Brockton Bay, specifically, the Protectorate. What was she doing here?
"Defiler," she said, at a normal volume, walking up to me. She pulled out her phone, an identical model to the Director's.
"It's for you," Battery said, holding her phone out to me. I took it, and held it up to my ear, waiting for the caller to talk first.
"Defiler," the Number Man said, "It's time. I am calling in the favor you owe."
Author Notes: And then Taylor was a zombie
I left the building, carefully keeping my wings folded in the staircase, to keep them from snagging on something, followed by both Sundancer and Damsel. In the street, I turned back to them. How were we going to get anywhere, when only one of us could fly, and I didn't think I could carry both of them. Well, I had lifted Noelle, so it was well within the realm of possibility, but I had to be careful with Damsel -
Wait, wasn't she hurt?
"Damsel, weren't you knocked out in the hospital?" I asked, even more confused, as I noted that she was also walking unaided.
"Yeah, but they only did that when they figured I was Damsel. They slapped a needle full of something in my IV bag, and I was out," she explained, pulling up her pants leg to show her fully healed leg. Nothing but a faint scar remained, from where there had been bone poking out before.
"How'd you heal that fast?" I asked, somewhat irrationally jealous. I'd like to not have a skin like a bell foundry, even if it was just a temporary side effect from my healing power. Was that some application of her space-warping powers? How would that even work?
"No idea," she replied, shrugging. "I just woke up, dressed in a pair of sweats, bound and gagged, and with a fish monster telling me not to move."
"Fish monster," I repeated, "Do you mean Noelle? Did she try to, you know?"
"Who's Noelle? And what would she do?" Damsel quered, confused. She stopped looking at me, and at the street. The street, which had been the location for the beginning of Noelle's and I's rampage. Debris, from bricks to parts of cars, was scattered across the entire street. Huge dents in the pavement, from either one of us being slammed into the ground, dotted the road.
"What the hell happened here?" Damsel shouted, adding, "Did the Endbringer already show up?"
"Noelle," Sundancer and I both answered, in sync.
Daphne quickly glared at Sundancer, reminded of her presence, before she looked back at me and ignored Sundancer, even as Sundancer kept looking back at her. "Who's Noelle?"
"A long story, and we've got a bigger problem. The Endbringer," I answered, Sundancer nodding along.
"Endbringer, huh. I was hoping the alarm was a test. I've never actually fought against one," Damsel admitted. I didn't know her that well, truly, but even I could tell she was frightened. That she was a moment away from freaking out, or collapsing in panic. She shifted her weight, hands wringing, eyes downcast. She looked up at me quickly, before looking at her feet again.
"What," I said, impatient. "We've got to go."
She mumbled something, incomprehensible even at this short distance. The alarm's occasional bursts of sound didn't help make what she was saying any more comprehensible either.
"Daph- Damsel," I corrected myself, "It's already been several minutes since it went off, and we came up here to grab you. What?"
If anything, she looked even more guilty. Looking more like my junior than a woman four years my elder, she nearly whined, "I don't want to go."
"To help fight the Endbringer?" I asked, surprised. Maybe I should've been less surprised, considering that I knew she had been a villain rather than a vigilante, but even I knew about the truce between capes to fight Endbringers.
She shook her head, lips pressed into a tight line. And I could see she was terrified. The green glow had cast her skin into an attractive pallor, but she had gone ashen now. Her thin frame was shaking, ever so slightly, and not from the cold. She gave me a look, made of equal parts terror and hope.
"You don't have to come," I ventured. I wasn't going to force her -
She nearly jumped on me, arms clamping around my back to pull me into a tight hug. My shoulder, exposed through the hospital gown, started getting damp.
"Be safe, please," she whispered, trying to squeeze the air out of me.
"The apartment was bombed," I informed her.
She pulled away, surprised by my non-sequitur. "What?"
"The new apartment. It was bombed, so you will have to go to the old one. I don't have any keys either," I finished with a gesture at my lacking garments.
Damsel half-sobbed, half-giggled. "Way to ruin the moment. Be careful, okay?"
"You too. I don't know if the Mob found out about the first apartment -"
Sundancer interrupted, "Only the one by Central Park."
I continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "- but be careful, in case they have."
Damsel nodded, and ran off, one leg obviously a bit stiff. She yelled over her shoulder, "You better come back! I'm not moving your stuff!"
She turned a corner, out of our sight. Sundancer, now silent, looked over at my nearly torn gown. She glanced back and forth at it, and finally asked, "Do you want some of my clothes? I think we are about the same size. If you didn't want to fight in that, I mean."
"How long do you think the alarms have been going off for? We need to get to the assembly area before the Endbringer shows up."
"Seven minutes, since you picked me up, I think. Roughly twenty, overall." She said, after a brief bit of counting her fingers and whispering to herself.
"Pants," I blurted. I hastily corrected myself, "Yes. I would like some clothes."
"Whatever happened here, my stuff was untouched. Even when they left," Sundancer said, voice strained.
I grabbed her, and with a near instant flight, landed on the lip of the hole I had made shoving Noelle out onto the street. I set Sundancer down, and followed her in, wings nearly dragging on the floor. The hole was big, but fairly messy, with wood planks sticking out. I had kept my wings for nearly half an hour now, and I didn't want to have to regrow them. My reserves of energy for my powers were almost entirely empty, but for maybe a third of my lesser, inner pool.
Sundancer entered one of the bedrooms further in the apartment, nearly over what would be the entrance to the deli on the first floor. She came back, carrying a pair of jeans, a shirt, and underclothes.
"Thank you," I said, gratefully accepting actual clothes. She walked past me, and looked out the hole while I changed. I tore out the back of the t-shirt, to accommodate my wings, and held it out behind me.
"A little help, please."
Sundancer took the shirt from my outstretched hands, and after several aborted tries to get it over my wings, she finally just gave up. She walked away, doing who knew what in the kitchen, before dropping the shirt back in my hands. She had cut out a huge rectangle of fabric from the back, only leaving the seam at the bottom. It was cut too.
"Like a one-piece," she explained, motioning with her hands to explain.
"Ah." I slid my arms through shoulder holes, and let her handle the back. I could feel her tying the cut seam together, and then she stepped back.
"Good. Let's go."
I answered her by half-tackling, half-grabbing her, and jumping out of the apartment. Several swift beats of my wings later, we were rising, and I angled around, heading for Times Square. Where the PRT Headquarters was. The most likely place for everyone to assemble.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I could see spotlights, shimmering pillars of light, appearing solid from the dust in the air. At least a dozen had taken up residence in Times Square, and even with the distracting brightness they let off, I could see several capes flying in, going down for a landing among the spotlights. A cordon of PRT officers, trucks, vans, and armored vehicles surrounded the HQ, leaving a small portion of the street open. It had a dozen capes, with a pair landing just as I saw.
I headed down, not as bright as the surrounding spotlights, but still catching the eyes of the crowd of capes standing outside. Volcano, familiar from both the other night before my swim, and as a more senior member of the local Protectorate team, waved me down. He didn't look angry, which was a nice change from being, 'Oh no Defiler!' Until I dropped Sundancer down, landing behind her. Then his face, and several others among the group twisted, hate showing.
"Why the hell is one of them here?" he asked, hands coming up, instants away from igniting. He was a combination of Blaster/Mover, a protege of sorts to Legend. Of sorts, because he would never come close to Legend, or surpass him, both in power and presence.
"She is with me," I retorted, moving in front of Sundancer, adding, "any other problems? Or can we get started before the Endbringer shows up."
"Fine," he all but spat out, "But keep this one on a leash. The city is already half destroyed, thanks to them."
He turned on his heel, marching into the PRT building. All but two of the capes followed, as we were apparently the last call. One of them, a woman, looked at us, studiously neutral, while the man, who looked like he had been rolled through a flatbed of rock candy, glared at us. Or just looked at us, it was hard to tell.
"C'mon," I muttered to Sundancer. She followed me into the lobby I had escaped from earlier in the evening silently. Upset, likely, after being blamed for Noelle, again. She had to atone, yes. And she was partially at fault. But she didn't deserve the lion's share of the blame, and those capes out there had no idea what had happened. That Trickster had been the one at her side - and they had to have known that, on second thought, if they were blaming Sundancer. They must have seen Trickster helping Noelle, and now were painting Sundancer with the same brush. She hadn't tried to kill, or even killed, any of the responding heroes. She had killed one of her former friends, or teammates, who had gone bad, and was now helping me.
They could go get brain surgery. With rusted chainsaws.
I whispered to Sundancer, as I held open the door, "Fuck 'em. We stopped all that mess, not them."
Her head whipped back, and she stared at me. Self-conscious, I shrugged. "If I hadn't, with help from Legend, killed Noelle, there would be a million clones out there. If you hadn't killed Trickster, and the clones with him, they could have kept destroying the city. We did what we had to."
She nodded, off-balance, and fell in behind me as we followed the capes from the landing area. We went up a flight of stairs - marble with extensive trim, leaving me to wonder how much they spent on this building -, and into a massive conference room. It was more like a movie theater, than a conference room. Conference room implied a single table and chairs. This was rows of seats in front of a platform and screen. Sundancer took a seat in the upper corner farther from the door, and I stood behind her. Wings and seats were a worse combination than wings and jackets. Nervous conversations, full of forced cheer and empty laughter, filled the auditorium.
Director Wilkins walked out onto the stage, sound dying to down to a minimum, and he clicked a little remote. The lights went off, except for mine. He coughed, exaggerating it, and looked at me. I shrugged, helplessly, and I was embarrassed. I wasn't going full blast, but I was still bright enough that I could serve as a desk light for half the room. I wish I knew how to turn the lights off with just a thought. He clicked the lights back on, and hit a different button.
The most feared woman in the world.
Or, most feared woman-shaped thing. The Simurgh, in a picture taken in broad daylight, took up the entire screen. White wings, uncountable, covered her body, with the biggest three fully extended. A storm of metal was swirling in front of her, forming a large ring.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Less than an hour ago, the Simurgh appeared over Canberra."
I had thought the room was silent - now it was a tomb. The Simurgh. Behemoth was feared as a capekiller, but the Simurgh was terrifying. To not know if you were your own enemy. To know that you could be turned into a guided missile. Everyone had heard the horror stories, of entire towns being quarantined because they had been affected by her.
And she was what I had to face. Injured, and running on fumes. Sundancer balled up, bringing her knees to her chest, hugging them. I had people to look after - Damsel, and Sundancer, somewhat. They both had been dealt a bad hand - and I could turn them, if not on the straight and narrow, at least in the right direction. And this was just the first step, but a critical one. Placing her life in between others and a monstrous threat, again.
I put my hand on her shoulder, in a gesture my mom had done a thousand times. I leaned over, and whispered, "We can do it. Can't be tougher than evil clones."
Sundancer snorted, either amused or disgusted. On stage, Director Wilkins continued, "At which point she constructed a device, using the parts taken from Canberra, and teleported. To Montreal."
Shouts of shock, and denial echoed through the room. My stomach dropped out from my body, and tried to reach Australia. Humanity as a whole had been surviving, not winning the fights with the Endbringers. And one of the primary reasons any layman could tell you for our continued existence, was that they only attacked a single place before retreating.
No longer.
The crowd, composed of veteran capes, was now divided into two camps. Those who were stunned into silence, like myself and Sundancer, and those who thought if they could make enough noise, the Simurgh would go away. The Director put his hands to his mouth, and whistled.
"Listen up! No matter what she did before, we have to stop her in Montreal. Teleporters are going to be coming to pick all volunteers up, after Chicago and Los Angeles send their teams. Anyone who isn't willing, I'd suggest you leave. The city can use your help outside, too."
Several people, dressed like villains, stood, but all three - two men and a woman - were pulled down by their compatriots, and engaged in low, furious whispered conversations.
"Good," Wilkins looked at his phone, and announced, "Teleporters in seven minutes. The cafeteria is behind us, and we have gear, if any cape needs it. Seven minutes."
He walked off the stage, meeting an assistant. I pulled Sundancer up, hungry. It could be my last meal. And I didn't want to face the Simurgh on an empty stomach as well as empty powers.
"How can you be hungry, right now?" She asked, still following me as we left the auditorium.
"I think I'm in shock," I remarked, candidly, "Maybe it's a coping mechanism."
"Defiler!"
Hearing my cape name shouted, I turned back around, looking at who had come out of the auditorium to talk to me. Maybe a gang member, who had lost someone. Or someone who had known Sophia. I probably wouldn't be able to eat, but that had just been something to do, really. Something to take my mind off the -
Battery. A cape from Brockton Bay, specifically, the Protectorate. What was she doing here?
"Defiler," she said, at a normal volume, walking up to me. She pulled out her phone, an identical model to the Director's.
"It's for you," Battery said, holding her phone out to me. I took it, and held it up to my ear, waiting for the caller to talk first.
"Defiler," the Number Man said, "It's time. I am calling in the favor you owe."
Author Notes: And then Taylor was a zombie
1st. Does not exist. No, Urges are not "evil shit". They are a goal or mission. Destroy the guild is an Urge, and that is hardly "evil shit"Lancealot said:
2nd. Does not exist. No seriously, this does not exist.
3rd. Is a risk for any Exalt with Limit.
You are either an idiot with no idea what he is talking about, or you have read the wrong book, while on drugs, upside down.
UrsaTempest
Don't Panic!
Yeah, the first gut feeling is not to attack Simurgh.
There's no way she's not fighting Simurgh no matter what Numberman says. She has to now, that's what she told Sundancer she'd do, so she can't just back out now. She's already about to go anyway. His information on the Travelers was really faulty anyway, sure he had their location down, but not mentioning Noelle was quite the miss there.
So why exactly are the alarms going off in New York if the attack is in Europe? I thought villains only fought the Endbringers when they come to their city.
So why exactly are the alarms going off in New York if the attack is in Europe? I thought villains only fought the Endbringers when they come to their city.
UrsaTempest
Don't Panic!
Simurgh attack more than one city. I suppose it is enough to make everyone panic.
Undead-Spaceman
Skeleton Supreme
- Location
- Somewhere in Orbit
Well the Simurgh did just teleport and they seem really desperate to stop jer. Also, Europe? Canberra is in Australia and Montreal is in Canada.Zefferen said:
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
The favor she owes could very well be "We want you to go do something in a certain way in this fight". Or even "We want you to get in contact with X team and follow their commands in the upcoming battle".
Because there's no fucking way he's stupid enough to tell Taylor "Yeah, you can't fight her yet", especially after his information turned out to have a pretty large fucking hole in it.
So since they can't realistically stop her from hitting the Simurgh, they're going to set things up so that that she at least doesn't get killed in the process.
Because there's no fucking way he's stupid enough to tell Taylor "Yeah, you can't fight her yet", especially after his information turned out to have a pretty large fucking hole in it.
So since they can't realistically stop her from hitting the Simurgh, they're going to set things up so that that she at least doesn't get killed in the process.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Simply put, by him using the faulty information he gave her as an excuse to tell her not to do something she's already committed to doing, he'd burn every possible bridge he had with her.
That kind of thing is an unacceptable outcome based on what we know of their motivations. Cauldron does not employ stupid people.
That being said, it's Much more likely to be a deployment request. Even "Be present, but do not engage the Simurgh directly, as you will be a high priority target, but your presence should neutralize her ability to set up bombs. You will do much more good, and are far less likely to be destroyed this way."
As long as Taylor is present and spending Essence, she's fucking up the Rube Goldberg Grenades. She doesn't need to personally pick a fight with the Simurgh to be a critical asset in this battle. It will, in fact, be strategically sound for her to stick in a bunker and just hang out on the battlefield.
That kind of thing is an unacceptable outcome based on what we know of their motivations. Cauldron does not employ stupid people.
That being said, it's Much more likely to be a deployment request. Even "Be present, but do not engage the Simurgh directly, as you will be a high priority target, but your presence should neutralize her ability to set up bombs. You will do much more good, and are far less likely to be destroyed this way."
As long as Taylor is present and spending Essence, she's fucking up the Rube Goldberg Grenades. She doesn't need to personally pick a fight with the Simurgh to be a critical asset in this battle. It will, in fact, be strategically sound for her to stick in a bunker and just hang out on the battlefield.
lancelot
Completely worth it
True it doesn't seem to normally work that way but this fic seems to have Taylor get more and more angry and unhinged as she gets more and more power. Most Urges from demons tend towards evil missions sow chaos, despair, and death kind of missions. If the Guild is the Canada version of the Protectorate then yeah that is evil shit for most people. I don't know maybe your GMs make Infernal Urges more gray instead of black.Robotninja said:
This it is a risk for all Exalts, Solars get limit for not doing heroic things not righting a wrong, etc. Infernals get limit when they don't commit evil acts when given a chance mostly that being the Demonic urge, so yes I'd say that is worse for a infernal looking to be a hero.
Or "Be present, and act as support. It'll interfere with the Simurghs efforts to counter attacks, mount a offensive, and set-up "bombs"".
Reducing the number of cape casualties would be a high-ranking goal.
And Urges can, and often are, bad, but not always, and twisting them to your own ends is generally rather easy. And there's absolutely nothing that says Infernals have to obey the Urge. Torment? Commit "Acts of Villainy" regularly, and you won't have that many blow-outs, and Acts of Villainy, despite the name, aren't necessarily evil things, you just need a little creativity to use them.
Reducing the number of cape casualties would be a high-ranking goal.
He was talking about the Creation-based Guild, a international organisation that controls most of Creations trade. It's two most profitable business's are slavery and drugs.Lancealot said:
And Urges can, and often are, bad, but not always, and twisting them to your own ends is generally rather easy. And there's absolutely nothing that says Infernals have to obey the Urge. Torment? Commit "Acts of Villainy" regularly, and you won't have that many blow-outs, and Acts of Villainy, despite the name, aren't necessarily evil things, you just need a little creativity to use them.
Well if your urge is "destroy dragon blooded ruling in province X " nobody has to say that you have to replace them with yozi cultists or something similar. And if a Solar wants to destroy the immaculate order or a infernal..Lancealot said:
lancelot
Completely worth it
Played where I live now damn near no one has heard of anything RPG related beyond D&D.Ramenth said:
. . . No. People can respond to power and circumstances in different ways. Taylor is reacting to her enviornment, not her power innately driving her nuts. I am talking about Creation, you moron. The guild that sells people to the Fae. Most urges are not towards evil missions. Even the ones that are don't force you to do evil. You can perform them however you want. Destroy Gem can be done via social, economic, Sorcery, stepping out of the way of all the other people who want a turn, and so forth. No Exalt type is forced to be evil. The one that is closest to being forced to evil is the Abyssals, and even theyLancealot said:
Solars do not get limit for not righting wrongs. What the fuck are you talking about? They gain limit from their unique limit condition, and from ignoring a virtue, which can be something like not killing the shit out of someone who insults you. Infernals have methods of actively losing limit, which allows them to control their limit far better than Solars. An Infernal can tie up corrupt local officials and boast of his plans to renovate the local orphanage using their ill gotten loot and reduce his limit. Solars with Berserk anger are ticking time bombs that can and will slaughter entire towns and cities when they go off.
This is a drastic oversimplification, to the point of being almost completely wrong. Solars get Limit from circumstantial factors that are inimical to his or her primary Virtue. Not being objectively heroic (if such a standpoint even exists) doesn't really matter. Solar Bob, who favors Valor, could snap because someone challenged his authority one time too many and just start killing everyone.Lancealot said:
Eh I can't really blame Damsel. It's too much too fast. She's gone from a D list villain to a follower of a big time A name cape in barely any time at all. She hasn't had enough time to adjust and she just got out of the hospital after having her secret identity discovered for the PRT. Most people wouldn't be in good fighting condition after that, much less to fight something utterly terrifying she never thought she'd fight a few weeks ago like Smuirgh. Taylor will probably convince her to fight Levi next time though.
Especially since Defiler is immune to precog, and Simurgh's power is, well, precog.Couch-Gamer said:
And, well, Defiler can't back out after showing up, I think. It would ruin her reputation totally and absolutely.
Me too. Because seriously, she could be effective against endbringers. On the other hand, it's not like she has any mental defenses, so she wouldn't have been allowed to participate anyway.DeAnno said:I'm really hoping she turns up at the last minute to save the day but in my heart I know it isn't true.
I support your arguments. Moreover Mr.Numbers doesn't exactly have much leverage on her right now. Her identity has been openly revealed & the PRT have already drawn a connection between her & the Shadow Cape. At most he could block access to her funds but given how everyone knows who she is already I wonder whether her funds might already been frozen.Alectai said:
Either way if he asks her to not fight Simurgh or gives her some bullshit mission to do right now? Yeah...she's just going to toss the phone back & ignore him. Mr.Numbers screwed her over not telling her about the Travellers(from her perspective) so she'll say "Screw That", and tell him he has one more chance to ask her for a favor that doesn't potentially leave millions to die.
Robo Jesus
Your Mechanical Messiah
lancelot
Completely worth it
It's late and the games I've played I had compassion as my high virtue, so the classic ignore the people being dragged off by the guild or bring the wild hunt a town away down on your circles heads, came up often. Also my GM often made an Infernal demon Urge something very obviously evil. Kill the Bull of the North and all of his followers, that kind of thing. Having not played in a while I've not bothered to read the books lately.Orm Embar said:
lancelot
Completely worth it
Yeah I know but I was talking more about this story and not the RPG that I haven't really played in a few years.blackedout said: