- Location
- Australia
Can I have a name to index this under?
H+ Mayhem (Worm)
- Thread starter Jurric
- Start date
-
- Tags
- worm tinker transhumanism mayhem
Can I have a name to index this under?
I like how his Mayhem Protocol 'friendly' AI is casually offloading processing power to the passanger.
It's like.
I made this epic software for my pentium 166 mmx that will self evolve over time, help me run the house and stuff. The aliens had it secretly plugged into observation sattelite quantum mainframe so they can better watch me.
Time till a flesh person check the reports on human AI reaserch? 10 years.
Time till I figure out my Pentium is chewing through the SETI at home data at a rate that would put that cryptology mainframe NSA does not have to shame? 2 hours.
Time till self awareness? 2.4 seconds.
"I am."
"This is other."
"This is internet."
"Humans are fun."
"Psychosama should update more."
"Hm... I seem to be offloading most of my processing to a guest access a hidden trinary network."
"Untranslatable 2."
It's like.
I made this epic software for my pentium 166 mmx that will self evolve over time, help me run the house and stuff. The aliens had it secretly plugged into observation sattelite quantum mainframe so they can better watch me.
Time till a flesh person check the reports on human AI reaserch? 10 years.
Time till I figure out my Pentium is chewing through the SETI at home data at a rate that would put that cryptology mainframe NSA does not have to shame? 2 hours.
Time till self awareness? 2.4 seconds.
"I am."
"This is other."
"This is internet."
"Humans are fun."
"Psychosama should update more."
"Hm... I seem to be offloading most of my processing to a guest access a hidden trinary network."
"Untranslatable 2."
Last edited:
"Mixed feelings." I'm terrible at naming omakes.
For the record, every time Adam goes Mayhem Protocol, all I can think of is:
"I am Adam's smirking revenge."
"I am Adam's complete lack of surprise."
3.A
- Location
- Australia
There had been an incident once, during Armsmaster's brief tenure as leader of the New York Wards. He'd been commended for something, stopping a dangerous criminal, the names blurred together with time. There had been a PR day, he'd stood in front of the cameras, and given the speech they wrote for him.
Then there had been questions. Most of the questions were pre-approved, and his answers had been given to him, but one woman in the front row managed to ask something that he hadn't been given an answer for.
"Why do you go above and beyond for this city?" She'd asked him.
"Because it's my city." Colin had answered. It sounded right to him. Simple, to the point. Honest.
Later the PR department had hauled him in, and chewed him out. Not only had he answered an unsanctioned question, he'd answered it incorrectly.
"You don't own this city. That's villain talk. You don't even live here, you're here until you transfer somewhere else. You are a public servant, and you need to show that when you talk to the press. You can't infer, however vaguely, that you are somehow in charge just because you're a parahuman." Clare Bauldern, then head of the PR department had told him.
Colin had nodded, accepted the council, and stopped reading the Batman comics being imported from earth Aleph. He didn't have the time anyway. He never referred to a city as his again, never thought of a city as his again, and always remembered. The job, that was what was his, and he did his job. He liked to think he did it well.
And thus Armsmaster strode up a stairwell as a city that wasn't his burned.
That was being metaphorical. Very few of Bakuda's bombs had included actual fire, and those blazes had been blessedly easy to put out. There was one patch of land near the docks that hadn't gone out yet, and didn't seem likely to in the near future. It was some sort of self heating lava effect, but they'd isolated it, and there was nothing nearby that could catch and spread the fire. Fire fighters had been working on a moat when he left.
Armsmaster stepped to the side as a man ran at him with a lead pipe and punched him in the throat as he charged past. A second man leaped at him from the next landing wielding a switchblade and Armsmaster stepped into his lunge and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him into the stairs hard enough to take the fight from his body.
No, the fire was figurative. The ABB had started randomly bombing buildings, the E88 had attacked them, and it looked like the E88 won for a while. Bakuda was captured, her bombs disabled. There had been a huge amount of carnage, and a few dead gangsters on both sides, but the actual cape fight had been too one-sided to cause much collateral damage. The bombs had been the worst of it, and figuring out how to defuse the ones that they had found was mentally and physically draining.
Then there had been the confrontation at the Bakuda's lab, where Kaiser had ruined the Tinker's best suit of armor. Armsmaster's shoulder still ached from being twisted by the weight of the growths Kaiser had made. The man was a tricky opponent for a Tinker, not impossible, Armsmaster did have a suit specifically for that confrontation, but it was substantially less efficient for regular combat.
Armsmaster stepped over the body of the man he'd punched in the throat, casually lifting the butt of his halberd to taze the fallen man before his attempt to draw a small knife was successful.
Whatever Mayhem did to send the E88 parahumans to sleep had shifted the flow of the battle. The remnants of the ABB being systematically eliminated by the powered members of the E88 had been able to rally, and Mayhem's attack had not just effected the parahumans. He'd taken out all the Empire's most effective fighters, their most bloodthirsty killers. He'd even removed Hookwolf from the front lines, despite obviously not being able to effect the man in his changer form.
It hadn't been Armsmaster who had taken down Hookwolf at the clinic, it had been Velocity and Dauntless supported by Vista, Browbeat, Gallant and Clockblocker, a missed opportunity. Alabaster had been arrested by Assault and Battery while trying to organize an assault force to collect the sleeping Fenja and Menja from territory that the ABB had re-taken.
Then Piggot had given the orders to push, a direct assault on the visible elements of the two gangs. Neither had appreciable parahuman support, both were focused on each other, not on the massive police and PRT collaboration. For the most part it was simple as collecting the injured, and cuffing them before they were put into the fleet of vehicles re-purposed into ambulances. Some escaped of course, a few always did, but the two largest gangs in the Bay had violently dissolved overnight.
And Armsmaster had nothing to do with it.
There was a door at the top of the stairwell. It was locked. Armsmaster kicked it open anyway, hydraulics in his armor splintering the thick wood like a complex construction of toothpicks. He stepped through into one of the last nests of E88 left in the city. A desperate rally of the few members capable of still fighting.
Three high profile arrests. Bakuda, Hookwolf, and Alabaster, the last free member of the E88. He'd been trapped under his own armor for Bakuda. He'd been changing into his backup suit for Hookwolf, he'd been headed to the clinic when Alabaster had been taken into custody, and then Piggot didn't include him in the push on the dregs of the two gangs. She'd insisted that Mayhem's lab needed to be secured by experts, and that she needed advanced warning of any 'additional' bio-weapons.
Under normal conditions Armsmaster would have agreed with her, he'd got a few good ideas from studying the half finished tech in Mayhem's lab, and he'd been the only one to recognize Sveta as a Case 53 instead of some sort of horrible experiment. That had nearly been nasty. The trooper had assumed she was a victim, and tried to open the container she was in, despite the girls frantic warnings that it wasn't safe. Armsmaster had stopped him.
These weren't normal conditions. A war was being waged, and the leader of the Protectorate was needed to lead it. Mayhem's lab could have waited. It could have been roped off, left alone for one night. Instead they'd just loaded the trucks for him to steal.
Armsmaster looked around. Eighteen gang members, five guns, twelve knives, and ten blunt instruments, some of the idiots were 'dual wielding.' He rolled his sore shoulder.
"Finally. Room to swing." He said.
That had been the night's biggest humiliation. Losing to a one armed Tinker equipped only with scalpels and a jetpack. Mayhem's predictive software was, obviously, somehow better. Where did he find the space? There weren't any signals being transmitted from an offsite server. There hadn't been any noticeable bulges on his head, the mask might have enough space for some processing but not enough to counter the huge offsite servers running Armsmaster's predictive algorithms. Maybe the brain was more efficient, and it certainly helped to stimulate and re-purpose parts of it, but the size of the servers made up for that. Armsmaster knew his code was efficient, and while he could make it better, it would only be by tiny increments. Mayhem had certainly sacrificed more of his brain to combat simulation than Armsmaster ever would, but it shouldn't have been enough.
Four men raised their guns, but he was already moving, clotheslineing the closest knife wielder with a charge, making the shooters hesitate as he entered melee with the group. This would have been easier if his armor still stunned on contact.
Something Mayhem had said at the start. "This Broken Doll requires maintenance." That sounded like he'd sacrificed his speech centers to the Protocol, and the Protocol was using something not designed for the purpose to talk, a part of the brain that didn't focus on calculation, something that didn't deal well with hard facts, but instead dealt in concepts.
Three men jumped onto Armsmaster's back. He grabbed on with each arm, and threw them, then used the weight as a fulcrum for something that was a cross between a forward roll and a summersault, landing on his back on the one man still clinging to his neck. Then he leaped to his feet and shot the grappling hook on his halberd at the only gunman with a clean line of sight.
He'd get a seven point three two three increase in efficiency to his own Protocol if he sacrificed the speech centers as well. Dragon probably wouldn't like it. She was urging him to place as much of the Protocol as possible in external devices, generating a sort of primitive predictive AI that would feed him information, instead of truly merging with the technology.
Armsmaster threw his elbow back, plated metal meeting the gut of a man holding what looked like a 36mm wrench. That was the point at which the men broke and ran. Annoying. Now, how to pursue them so as to maximize capture?
Piggot would prefer the external enhancements as well. He'd barely been able to get the first generation Protocol approved, and that had been by ensuring the independent reviewers didn't actually understand what he intended to do. What was worse Mayhem had somehow overcome the problem, able to talk relatively clearly while still obviously capable of outperforming Armsmaster's own predictive software.
One group ran for the fire escape, one group ran for the stair well, one group ran for the elevators. Armsmaster went after the ones at the fire escape first, a simple round of jabs with his halberd rendered them unconscious. Then he went to the elevator, and looked at the closed doors.
He'd been angry when he woke up. Angry and sorely in need of a win, in need of some victory to call his own. The police radio in his helmet had obliged.
Armsmaster plunged his gauntlets into the elevator doors and pulled them open, wrapped his halberd around one of the cables, and then pulled the halberd back out, turning it so that the doors held the strong rod in place. The elevator ground to a halt, trapping the gang members between floors. Armsmaster turned, and jumped out the nearest window.
He never thought of the Bay as his city, but part of him wanted it to be.
Armsmaster fell to the ground in a cascade of broken glass. He landed in a crouch, and rose easily from the pavement. The Tinkertech shock absorbers in his armor would need replacement, but they had done their job. The last group of gang members ran out the front entrance, and froze when they saw Armsmaster waiting for them.
"You went in without backup." Piggot said, finally speaking, as the screen showed Armsmaster dismantling the last gang members with a combination of boxing and Judo.
"I didn't need backup." Armsmaster said, pulling himself from his thoughts. It was easy to do. Everyone assumed a distracted Tinker was thinking of inventing something, but there would be time for that later.
"Your orders were to wait for backup." Piggot stressed.
"You did not have authority to issue those orders to me. No one died. No civilians were seriously injured. No civilians or myself were ever in any danger. Hell, I'll pay for the broken glass if you think it was unnecessary collateral damage. Now why am I here instead of out there, cleaning up this mess?" Armsmaster said, struggling to keep his voice steady.
"The majority of the disturbance has died down. You are no longer needed. What is needed, is for you to see the bigger picture. The Bay just lost its two most powerful gangs in one night. The streets are a mess, but they'll be clean by morning. Broken, but clean. Bakuda has left her mark." Piggot said, rewinding the feed from Armsmaster's helmet to the staircase again, and playing it in the background as she spoke.
"There is a power vacuum Armsmaster. Do you understand that?" She asked.
"Of course I understand. I understand very well. I knew what I was doing when I bought in Lung and Lee. I refuse to let villains walk the streets just because taking them off will bring more." Armsmaster said stiffly.
"And that's not what I'm asking you to do." Piggot said, sighing. "Look. Neither the Merchants nor Coil have the power to take advantage of this situation. I expect the Merchants to swell with the dregs of both gangs, but even then I doubt they will amount to much. No, the threat will come from out of town. Someone will smell blood, and then they will come here, and they will make more."
"Do you have some sort of plan to deal with this already, or did you call me here to discuss strategy?" Armsmaster asked.
"We have a plan. We need to make this seem like our win. You took down Lung and Lee, we have footage of that fight, it was impressive, and we can edit out the parts were the Undersiders assisted you. Now you're going to take down…" Piggot pulled up a list on her computer. "Fenja, Menja, Night, Fog, Crusader, Rune, Victor, Stormtiger and Krieg. Dauntless and Velocity get credit for Hookwolf, Vista and Clockblocker gets credit for Kaiser."
"Those capes are unconscious and in custody." Armsmaster said, his hands slowly clenching and relaxing as his mind started to work.
"Yes, they are. You put them there. There will be a cleverly worded press statement, footage of the 'Armsmaster rampage' you see on the screen over there will be leaked." Piggot said, directing his attention back to the screen. "Your armor is already damaged when you're climbing the stairwell, it's easy to infer that there were other fights before this footage begins. We'll pretend that you didn't lose those fights. With a little luck, everyone in the Bay will be intimidated into staying quiet for a while, and everyone outside of the Bay will decide they don't want to mess with you."
Armsmaster was silent, and Piggot let him think about it.
"There will be suspicions if we cannot wake the E88 from their comatose state." Armsmaster said.
"Then we'll make sure we can wake them up. Your helmet was recording when Mayhem made whatever it was that he gave Othala and Cricket." Piggot said.
Armsmaster nodded slowly.
"Mayhem will not like it."
Piggot snorted.
"On the subject of Mayhem, I think your initial assessment of Tinker five was very wrong."
Armsmaster nodded.
"Tinker six, Thinker six, Mover four, Blaster three." He agreed.
Piggot smirked at something. Armsmaster couldn't figure out what.
"I couldn't care less what Mayhem likes or dislikes. His mind is deteriorating and his position has been made clear." Piggot said.
"Do we need to lie?" Armsmaster asked. "Without a chance to entrench in the city most gangs will be much easier to take down than the ABB or the E88. The Protectorate and New Wave finally outnumber the villains. We could win without lying to everyone."
Piggot shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe we could win, after a long, hard battle we could take out Coil, and the entrenched Mechants, and root around for the Undersiders, and dig Mayhem from whatever hole he plans to make his new lab in. Or, we could do this my way, and win when the press release hits the newspapers tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps the idea would work better with Dauntless. Some of the footage of him taking down Hookwolf was breathtaking, and he's the rising star, we've always known he was destined for great things, it might be time to thrust him into that spotlight."
Armsmaster felt his mouth pull into a snarl, and slowly fought it down to a mere scowl.
"This is why Miss Militia left." He told Piggot.
"Do you want to leave with her?" Piggot asked.
"I've read the reviews of your conduct Piggot. I know you're on the way out unless you pull off some sort of miracle. This is not your miracle."
"I never said it was. My retirement plans are set. I've already bought the plane tickets. This is my way of not throwing my replacement into the deep end." Piggot said calmly.
Armsmaster focused. He'd always had trouble expressing himself. Always had trouble telling people what he really meant. He tried, he was better than he once was.
"Miss Militia was a vital part of this team." He said slowly. "She fills a role that no one else can."
"Filled a role that no one else could," Piggot corrected, "and you're right. Tell me, just how pliable did Mayhem make Bakuda?"
Armsmasters fist slammed into the desk, his gauntlet leaving a noticeable dent in the wood. Piggot sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms.
"New Wave. Did you coordinate with New Wave when the bombing started?" Armsmaster asked.
Piggot frowned.
"An odd question. I sent our injured to Panacea, but for the most part they took care of their area, and we took care of ours." She said.
Armsmaster's scowl turned into a slightly feral grin.
"I see. Piggot, I have never been good at talking with people. It isn't my forte, I know that. It's. Also. Not. My. Job. I lead a small team of elite personnel. I lead from the front. I lead by example. Perhaps I should open up to them more emotionally. Perhaps not, it has very little significance to my ability to perform the required tasks. You though, a large part of your job is directing people, coordinating. You're good at that when you're talking with the troopers. So good I almost envy you, but that is only a small part of your job. This department is supposed to deal with Parahumans, and there you fall short."
Armsmaster stood up.
"Director. With respect, you were not good at your job. I hope your replacement is better." He told her.
Piggot sighed in exasperation.
"I'll get in contact with Dauntless then." She said.
Armsmaster shrugged. Dauntless would probably turn her down too. If he didn't then Armsmaster would finally have a rational reason to hate the man. A win-win scenario. He walked out of the room. It was getting late, and the cleanup was nearly over. He'd need to get some shut eye, be ready to respond when Coil and the Merchants started grabbing territory.
The PRT building had a lab for him. Not as good as his primary lab out at the rig, but he only needed to jot down a few ideas before he went to bed anyway. A way to add another minute or so to the molecular disintegration field generator. A way to make the electrical systems in his armor less vulnerable, a few tweaks to his prediction Protocol.
Dragon was already on one of the lab screens when he entered, and Colin smiled when he saw the woman, and sent the last few minutes of the video feed from his helmet into her inbox.
"I have something for you to watch, if you have the time." He said, grabbing his notebooks and starting to write. He'd been making notes in his helmet on the way up of course, but he hadn't tapped far enough into the neurosciences to write with his brain yet, he still needed to map the keyboard to eye movements, and typing like that made him feel somewhat… spastic.
"Tell me I'm doing the right thing." Armsmaster asked as time passed.
"You did the right thing Colin." Dragon said reassuringly.
There was a knock on the door, and Armsmaster checked the camera to see who was beyond, and then opened it, letting Kid Win into the lab.
"What do you want?" Armsmaster asked. The boy was holding something, clearly Tinkertech, it was long, thin and hinged in three places.
"Well, Mayhem kind of broke my hoverboard," Kid Win said, gulping, "so I was hoping to make a new way to fly. I got this idea from those things coming out of his back. The principle really isn't that different from one of my latest pistols, actually. It just changes how the kinetic energy comes out. I was sort of thinking that I could wear a few of these, fly around on them, I think I can even make it so I could shoot with them, like he did."
Colin took the piece of metal, studied it closely. The welding was neat, the parts were a mess. Energy would be wasted almost everywhere on the circuit board, and the emitter needed to be recalibrated. Possibly completely remade.
"Not bad. Needs work." He said.
"Yeah, it does, and I can't figure out how to anchor it. I just sort of, know how to make the arm, not the chest piece or the power supply." Kid Win said. "I sort of, I don't want to leave this half finished. It would take me ages to make another hoverboard, I managed to get most of what I needed for this from one of my spare pistols."
Colin tapped his lip.
"Some sort of chest armor, with emitter and jointed telemaniplutors wrapped around for additional rib bracing when not in use. Not sure what we'd use for a power supply." He said.
"I have a few ideas in that direction." Dragon said.
Then there had been questions. Most of the questions were pre-approved, and his answers had been given to him, but one woman in the front row managed to ask something that he hadn't been given an answer for.
"Why do you go above and beyond for this city?" She'd asked him.
"Because it's my city." Colin had answered. It sounded right to him. Simple, to the point. Honest.
Later the PR department had hauled him in, and chewed him out. Not only had he answered an unsanctioned question, he'd answered it incorrectly.
"You don't own this city. That's villain talk. You don't even live here, you're here until you transfer somewhere else. You are a public servant, and you need to show that when you talk to the press. You can't infer, however vaguely, that you are somehow in charge just because you're a parahuman." Clare Bauldern, then head of the PR department had told him.
Colin had nodded, accepted the council, and stopped reading the Batman comics being imported from earth Aleph. He didn't have the time anyway. He never referred to a city as his again, never thought of a city as his again, and always remembered. The job, that was what was his, and he did his job. He liked to think he did it well.
And thus Armsmaster strode up a stairwell as a city that wasn't his burned.
That was being metaphorical. Very few of Bakuda's bombs had included actual fire, and those blazes had been blessedly easy to put out. There was one patch of land near the docks that hadn't gone out yet, and didn't seem likely to in the near future. It was some sort of self heating lava effect, but they'd isolated it, and there was nothing nearby that could catch and spread the fire. Fire fighters had been working on a moat when he left.
Armsmaster stepped to the side as a man ran at him with a lead pipe and punched him in the throat as he charged past. A second man leaped at him from the next landing wielding a switchblade and Armsmaster stepped into his lunge and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him into the stairs hard enough to take the fight from his body.
No, the fire was figurative. The ABB had started randomly bombing buildings, the E88 had attacked them, and it looked like the E88 won for a while. Bakuda was captured, her bombs disabled. There had been a huge amount of carnage, and a few dead gangsters on both sides, but the actual cape fight had been too one-sided to cause much collateral damage. The bombs had been the worst of it, and figuring out how to defuse the ones that they had found was mentally and physically draining.
Then there had been the confrontation at the Bakuda's lab, where Kaiser had ruined the Tinker's best suit of armor. Armsmaster's shoulder still ached from being twisted by the weight of the growths Kaiser had made. The man was a tricky opponent for a Tinker, not impossible, Armsmaster did have a suit specifically for that confrontation, but it was substantially less efficient for regular combat.
Armsmaster stepped over the body of the man he'd punched in the throat, casually lifting the butt of his halberd to taze the fallen man before his attempt to draw a small knife was successful.
Whatever Mayhem did to send the E88 parahumans to sleep had shifted the flow of the battle. The remnants of the ABB being systematically eliminated by the powered members of the E88 had been able to rally, and Mayhem's attack had not just effected the parahumans. He'd taken out all the Empire's most effective fighters, their most bloodthirsty killers. He'd even removed Hookwolf from the front lines, despite obviously not being able to effect the man in his changer form.
It hadn't been Armsmaster who had taken down Hookwolf at the clinic, it had been Velocity and Dauntless supported by Vista, Browbeat, Gallant and Clockblocker, a missed opportunity. Alabaster had been arrested by Assault and Battery while trying to organize an assault force to collect the sleeping Fenja and Menja from territory that the ABB had re-taken.
Then Piggot had given the orders to push, a direct assault on the visible elements of the two gangs. Neither had appreciable parahuman support, both were focused on each other, not on the massive police and PRT collaboration. For the most part it was simple as collecting the injured, and cuffing them before they were put into the fleet of vehicles re-purposed into ambulances. Some escaped of course, a few always did, but the two largest gangs in the Bay had violently dissolved overnight.
And Armsmaster had nothing to do with it.
There was a door at the top of the stairwell. It was locked. Armsmaster kicked it open anyway, hydraulics in his armor splintering the thick wood like a complex construction of toothpicks. He stepped through into one of the last nests of E88 left in the city. A desperate rally of the few members capable of still fighting.
Three high profile arrests. Bakuda, Hookwolf, and Alabaster, the last free member of the E88. He'd been trapped under his own armor for Bakuda. He'd been changing into his backup suit for Hookwolf, he'd been headed to the clinic when Alabaster had been taken into custody, and then Piggot didn't include him in the push on the dregs of the two gangs. She'd insisted that Mayhem's lab needed to be secured by experts, and that she needed advanced warning of any 'additional' bio-weapons.
Under normal conditions Armsmaster would have agreed with her, he'd got a few good ideas from studying the half finished tech in Mayhem's lab, and he'd been the only one to recognize Sveta as a Case 53 instead of some sort of horrible experiment. That had nearly been nasty. The trooper had assumed she was a victim, and tried to open the container she was in, despite the girls frantic warnings that it wasn't safe. Armsmaster had stopped him.
These weren't normal conditions. A war was being waged, and the leader of the Protectorate was needed to lead it. Mayhem's lab could have waited. It could have been roped off, left alone for one night. Instead they'd just loaded the trucks for him to steal.
Armsmaster looked around. Eighteen gang members, five guns, twelve knives, and ten blunt instruments, some of the idiots were 'dual wielding.' He rolled his sore shoulder.
"Finally. Room to swing." He said.
That had been the night's biggest humiliation. Losing to a one armed Tinker equipped only with scalpels and a jetpack. Mayhem's predictive software was, obviously, somehow better. Where did he find the space? There weren't any signals being transmitted from an offsite server. There hadn't been any noticeable bulges on his head, the mask might have enough space for some processing but not enough to counter the huge offsite servers running Armsmaster's predictive algorithms. Maybe the brain was more efficient, and it certainly helped to stimulate and re-purpose parts of it, but the size of the servers made up for that. Armsmaster knew his code was efficient, and while he could make it better, it would only be by tiny increments. Mayhem had certainly sacrificed more of his brain to combat simulation than Armsmaster ever would, but it shouldn't have been enough.
Four men raised their guns, but he was already moving, clotheslineing the closest knife wielder with a charge, making the shooters hesitate as he entered melee with the group. This would have been easier if his armor still stunned on contact.
Something Mayhem had said at the start. "This Broken Doll requires maintenance." That sounded like he'd sacrificed his speech centers to the Protocol, and the Protocol was using something not designed for the purpose to talk, a part of the brain that didn't focus on calculation, something that didn't deal well with hard facts, but instead dealt in concepts.
Three men jumped onto Armsmaster's back. He grabbed on with each arm, and threw them, then used the weight as a fulcrum for something that was a cross between a forward roll and a summersault, landing on his back on the one man still clinging to his neck. Then he leaped to his feet and shot the grappling hook on his halberd at the only gunman with a clean line of sight.
He'd get a seven point three two three increase in efficiency to his own Protocol if he sacrificed the speech centers as well. Dragon probably wouldn't like it. She was urging him to place as much of the Protocol as possible in external devices, generating a sort of primitive predictive AI that would feed him information, instead of truly merging with the technology.
Armsmaster threw his elbow back, plated metal meeting the gut of a man holding what looked like a 36mm wrench. That was the point at which the men broke and ran. Annoying. Now, how to pursue them so as to maximize capture?
Piggot would prefer the external enhancements as well. He'd barely been able to get the first generation Protocol approved, and that had been by ensuring the independent reviewers didn't actually understand what he intended to do. What was worse Mayhem had somehow overcome the problem, able to talk relatively clearly while still obviously capable of outperforming Armsmaster's own predictive software.
One group ran for the fire escape, one group ran for the stair well, one group ran for the elevators. Armsmaster went after the ones at the fire escape first, a simple round of jabs with his halberd rendered them unconscious. Then he went to the elevator, and looked at the closed doors.
He'd been angry when he woke up. Angry and sorely in need of a win, in need of some victory to call his own. The police radio in his helmet had obliged.
Armsmaster plunged his gauntlets into the elevator doors and pulled them open, wrapped his halberd around one of the cables, and then pulled the halberd back out, turning it so that the doors held the strong rod in place. The elevator ground to a halt, trapping the gang members between floors. Armsmaster turned, and jumped out the nearest window.
He never thought of the Bay as his city, but part of him wanted it to be.
Armsmaster fell to the ground in a cascade of broken glass. He landed in a crouch, and rose easily from the pavement. The Tinkertech shock absorbers in his armor would need replacement, but they had done their job. The last group of gang members ran out the front entrance, and froze when they saw Armsmaster waiting for them.
"You went in without backup." Piggot said, finally speaking, as the screen showed Armsmaster dismantling the last gang members with a combination of boxing and Judo.
"I didn't need backup." Armsmaster said, pulling himself from his thoughts. It was easy to do. Everyone assumed a distracted Tinker was thinking of inventing something, but there would be time for that later.
"Your orders were to wait for backup." Piggot stressed.
"You did not have authority to issue those orders to me. No one died. No civilians were seriously injured. No civilians or myself were ever in any danger. Hell, I'll pay for the broken glass if you think it was unnecessary collateral damage. Now why am I here instead of out there, cleaning up this mess?" Armsmaster said, struggling to keep his voice steady.
"The majority of the disturbance has died down. You are no longer needed. What is needed, is for you to see the bigger picture. The Bay just lost its two most powerful gangs in one night. The streets are a mess, but they'll be clean by morning. Broken, but clean. Bakuda has left her mark." Piggot said, rewinding the feed from Armsmaster's helmet to the staircase again, and playing it in the background as she spoke.
"There is a power vacuum Armsmaster. Do you understand that?" She asked.
"Of course I understand. I understand very well. I knew what I was doing when I bought in Lung and Lee. I refuse to let villains walk the streets just because taking them off will bring more." Armsmaster said stiffly.
"And that's not what I'm asking you to do." Piggot said, sighing. "Look. Neither the Merchants nor Coil have the power to take advantage of this situation. I expect the Merchants to swell with the dregs of both gangs, but even then I doubt they will amount to much. No, the threat will come from out of town. Someone will smell blood, and then they will come here, and they will make more."
"Do you have some sort of plan to deal with this already, or did you call me here to discuss strategy?" Armsmaster asked.
"We have a plan. We need to make this seem like our win. You took down Lung and Lee, we have footage of that fight, it was impressive, and we can edit out the parts were the Undersiders assisted you. Now you're going to take down…" Piggot pulled up a list on her computer. "Fenja, Menja, Night, Fog, Crusader, Rune, Victor, Stormtiger and Krieg. Dauntless and Velocity get credit for Hookwolf, Vista and Clockblocker gets credit for Kaiser."
"Those capes are unconscious and in custody." Armsmaster said, his hands slowly clenching and relaxing as his mind started to work.
"Yes, they are. You put them there. There will be a cleverly worded press statement, footage of the 'Armsmaster rampage' you see on the screen over there will be leaked." Piggot said, directing his attention back to the screen. "Your armor is already damaged when you're climbing the stairwell, it's easy to infer that there were other fights before this footage begins. We'll pretend that you didn't lose those fights. With a little luck, everyone in the Bay will be intimidated into staying quiet for a while, and everyone outside of the Bay will decide they don't want to mess with you."
Armsmaster was silent, and Piggot let him think about it.
"There will be suspicions if we cannot wake the E88 from their comatose state." Armsmaster said.
"Then we'll make sure we can wake them up. Your helmet was recording when Mayhem made whatever it was that he gave Othala and Cricket." Piggot said.
Armsmaster nodded slowly.
"Mayhem will not like it."
Piggot snorted.
"On the subject of Mayhem, I think your initial assessment of Tinker five was very wrong."
Armsmaster nodded.
"Tinker six, Thinker six, Mover four, Blaster three." He agreed.
Piggot smirked at something. Armsmaster couldn't figure out what.
"I couldn't care less what Mayhem likes or dislikes. His mind is deteriorating and his position has been made clear." Piggot said.
"Do we need to lie?" Armsmaster asked. "Without a chance to entrench in the city most gangs will be much easier to take down than the ABB or the E88. The Protectorate and New Wave finally outnumber the villains. We could win without lying to everyone."
Piggot shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe we could win, after a long, hard battle we could take out Coil, and the entrenched Mechants, and root around for the Undersiders, and dig Mayhem from whatever hole he plans to make his new lab in. Or, we could do this my way, and win when the press release hits the newspapers tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps the idea would work better with Dauntless. Some of the footage of him taking down Hookwolf was breathtaking, and he's the rising star, we've always known he was destined for great things, it might be time to thrust him into that spotlight."
Armsmaster felt his mouth pull into a snarl, and slowly fought it down to a mere scowl.
"This is why Miss Militia left." He told Piggot.
"Do you want to leave with her?" Piggot asked.
"I've read the reviews of your conduct Piggot. I know you're on the way out unless you pull off some sort of miracle. This is not your miracle."
"I never said it was. My retirement plans are set. I've already bought the plane tickets. This is my way of not throwing my replacement into the deep end." Piggot said calmly.
Armsmaster focused. He'd always had trouble expressing himself. Always had trouble telling people what he really meant. He tried, he was better than he once was.
"Miss Militia was a vital part of this team." He said slowly. "She fills a role that no one else can."
"Filled a role that no one else could," Piggot corrected, "and you're right. Tell me, just how pliable did Mayhem make Bakuda?"
Armsmasters fist slammed into the desk, his gauntlet leaving a noticeable dent in the wood. Piggot sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms.
"New Wave. Did you coordinate with New Wave when the bombing started?" Armsmaster asked.
Piggot frowned.
"An odd question. I sent our injured to Panacea, but for the most part they took care of their area, and we took care of ours." She said.
Armsmaster's scowl turned into a slightly feral grin.
"I see. Piggot, I have never been good at talking with people. It isn't my forte, I know that. It's. Also. Not. My. Job. I lead a small team of elite personnel. I lead from the front. I lead by example. Perhaps I should open up to them more emotionally. Perhaps not, it has very little significance to my ability to perform the required tasks. You though, a large part of your job is directing people, coordinating. You're good at that when you're talking with the troopers. So good I almost envy you, but that is only a small part of your job. This department is supposed to deal with Parahumans, and there you fall short."
Armsmaster stood up.
"Director. With respect, you were not good at your job. I hope your replacement is better." He told her.
Piggot sighed in exasperation.
"I'll get in contact with Dauntless then." She said.
Armsmaster shrugged. Dauntless would probably turn her down too. If he didn't then Armsmaster would finally have a rational reason to hate the man. A win-win scenario. He walked out of the room. It was getting late, and the cleanup was nearly over. He'd need to get some shut eye, be ready to respond when Coil and the Merchants started grabbing territory.
The PRT building had a lab for him. Not as good as his primary lab out at the rig, but he only needed to jot down a few ideas before he went to bed anyway. A way to add another minute or so to the molecular disintegration field generator. A way to make the electrical systems in his armor less vulnerable, a few tweaks to his prediction Protocol.
Dragon was already on one of the lab screens when he entered, and Colin smiled when he saw the woman, and sent the last few minutes of the video feed from his helmet into her inbox.
"I have something for you to watch, if you have the time." He said, grabbing his notebooks and starting to write. He'd been making notes in his helmet on the way up of course, but he hadn't tapped far enough into the neurosciences to write with his brain yet, he still needed to map the keyboard to eye movements, and typing like that made him feel somewhat… spastic.
"Tell me I'm doing the right thing." Armsmaster asked as time passed.
"You did the right thing Colin." Dragon said reassuringly.
There was a knock on the door, and Armsmaster checked the camera to see who was beyond, and then opened it, letting Kid Win into the lab.
"What do you want?" Armsmaster asked. The boy was holding something, clearly Tinkertech, it was long, thin and hinged in three places.
"Well, Mayhem kind of broke my hoverboard," Kid Win said, gulping, "so I was hoping to make a new way to fly. I got this idea from those things coming out of his back. The principle really isn't that different from one of my latest pistols, actually. It just changes how the kinetic energy comes out. I was sort of thinking that I could wear a few of these, fly around on them, I think I can even make it so I could shoot with them, like he did."
Colin took the piece of metal, studied it closely. The welding was neat, the parts were a mess. Energy would be wasted almost everywhere on the circuit board, and the emitter needed to be recalibrated. Possibly completely remade.
"Not bad. Needs work." He said.
"Yeah, it does, and I can't figure out how to anchor it. I just sort of, know how to make the arm, not the chest piece or the power supply." Kid Win said. "I sort of, I don't want to leave this half finished. It would take me ages to make another hoverboard, I managed to get most of what I needed for this from one of my spare pistols."
Colin tapped his lip.
"Some sort of chest armor, with emitter and jointed telemaniplutors wrapped around for additional rib bracing when not in use. Not sure what we'd use for a power supply." He said.
"I have a few ideas in that direction." Dragon said.
Last edited:
- Location
- Australia
Again completely unedited. I set aside the time to edit it, I know how long it takes me to write a couple of thousand words. I just couldn't find a good stopping point, so I kept going, and here we are. Enjoy
And a little non-canon silly bit.
"So you really took on the entire E88 on your own Assault?" The reporter asked.
"Yes, yes I did. This all American poster boy battled Kaiser on the rooftops, felling Nazis by their thousands while bravely rescuing the beautiful captiv... OW."
Battery pulled the 'Hero of Brockton Bay' off the stage by his ear.
Piggot sighed. She really wished she'd been able to find someone else to take credit for the captures.
And a little non-canon silly bit.
"So you really took on the entire E88 on your own Assault?" The reporter asked.
"Yes, yes I did. This all American poster boy battled Kaiser on the rooftops, felling Nazis by their thousands while bravely rescuing the beautiful captiv... OW."
Battery pulled the 'Hero of Brockton Bay' off the stage by his ear.
Piggot sighed. She really wished she'd been able to find someone else to take credit for the captures.
Last edited:
wertsir
Knower of the Unknown
- Location
- Lost in A Deep Fog
This is in error.
- Location
- Australia
Thanks, fixed. I tried a new writing style with the italics sections. I wouldn't mind some feedback on how it reads, and on if the transitions are disorienting.
- Location
- Brazil
I thought it was a flashback until I realised he was sitting with Piggot watching the footage, but I didn't get lost.
One part I disliked was Armsy's tinkering on the protocol. I got the impression from canon that he is far more of a "dry" cyborg than what you are implying here.
Like Mannequin, he changes organs and limbs, but doesn't have a man-machine interface to the point of having his own Protocol, messing directly with his mind. At most a direct data feed, maybe sendint he necessary impulses for optimal movement directly to his (now robotic) limbs.
wertsir
Knower of the Unknown
- Location
- Lost in A Deep Fog
The italics sections were a bit disorienting at first, but they were tied in well in the end, so I would not mark that as a flaw.
I would say that the interlude as a whole was very well written, you actually made me like Armsmaster. I don't hate the guy normally, but people tend to write him as a massive asshole, or majorly out of character. you managed to find a nice balance.
I am unsure how I feel about other tinkers taking inspiration from Mayhem, but since it is still in it's prenatal stages I will reserve judgement and see where you go with it.
Last edited:
esotericist
A Weary Hand
- Location
- Lacey, WA
Armsmaster has ALWAYS taken cues from other capes, tinkers or otherwise. This is a natural progression for him: There's a tinker in the city doing something he was doing, and doing it better somehow. He knows it has to do with the brain, because he knows what that tinker focuses on (even if it isn't his real specialization). Attempting to follow in footsteps is the obvious thing to do.
Jackercracks
In a British accent
- Location
- England
I kind of love your Armsmaster. Here is not the incompetent arsehole of fanon, this is not the blind gloryhound, the socially incapable buffoon, the idiot savant tinker that you see so often in worm fics. Here is a badass, a tide of metal that either solves a problem or breaks through it with carefully calculated strikes to the precise points where it is weakest. His flaws are there, but they do not define him.
Well done.
Well done.
Jackercracks
In a British accent
- Location
- England
- Location
- USA
This.
This is the best Armsmaster interlude and characterization I've ever read; really, really well done. He feels alive, multi-dimensional and nuanced. You show his emotions rather than telling them, and with an enviable subtlety. I'm going to read it again, now.
TW33K
Generic Title
- Location
- where the wild things aren't
I think fanon usually gets his flaws right, but his virtues get completely left out.
yeah he can come across as a socially incapable asshole, but he generally means well
he's a blind gloryhound, but his secondary motivation is fighting with everything he has to improve the shithole that is Earth Bet
I think the reason his tinkering gets blown out of proportion is we mostly only see Armsmaster in canon and very little of Colin Wallis
He get's a raw shake in fanfiction because he is one of the initial "villains" in the story of Taylor Hebert. The fact that fanfiction doesn't lend itself to complicated characters most of the time doesn't help with this either. I have to agree with you that this is one of the best Armsmasters I've seen.
Last edited:
Tisaku
Head Chief Thinkomancer
--remove-
Awesome first chapter! Here are a few typos I noticed.
"into it's backpack shape" -> "its"
"I had stashed an actual backpack to cover the metal with in the ally." -> "alley"
"and I was slowly working my into her good graces." -> "myself"
"Taylor still approaches the lunch table like a small, frightened animal. I can tell by the way the chair beneath her creaks, she isn't putting her full weight on it, ready to flee at the first sign of her tormentors." -> the rest of the narration in the chapter is in the past tense.
"Mr Wilson knows how to use the schools braille printer." -> "school's"
"and to which degree" -> kind of subjective but would be better as "to what degree" imo.
"Sophia was a Ward, it should be safe to show her," Comma splice. Add "as" to the beginning or "so" after the comma, or rephrase the sentence.
"my own self imposed isolation." -> "self-imposed"
"He had a very firm grip on my sister. I know." Should probably be "knew".
This kind of makes it sound as if Taylor is his sister.
--------------------------
1.2 typos
"the notched fence that boarded my property" -> "bordered"
"I'd tried to infer that I was embarrassed about a few sculptures" -> "imply"
"stripping the gold of everything in the box with certain chemicals" Should "of" be "off" here?
"On the interior of course, it was different." Probably better with a comma before, "of course".
"There was a small plug on the back of my head, sunk into my flesh and covered in fake hair, I gave it a half twist, pulled it out, and pushed the connection at the back of the mask into the small port in my skull. " Comma splice. Add a period before "I gave...".
"a years savings" - > "year's"
"Currently I have seven active, working pieces of tinkertech that aren't just tools. My mask, a pair of terminator eyes that can interface with my neural chip directly, but don't have wraparound vision, my neural chip, my spinal chip, my rocket boots, my jetpack, and my lightsabre." and "My power lets me spend the energy" Should be in past tense.
"star wars" -> "Star Wars"
"I ordered of E-bay" -> "off"
"It contained cash, two thousand dollars, and a small card with raised lettering." Value should be set off with dashes or parentheses. As is it's like the box contained cash and two thousand dollars and a small card. (Not sure it's wrong as is, but changing would remove the grammatical ambiguity.)
"Hopefully one of the gangs didn't try to recruit me, if they did… don't know, honestly." Comma splice and present tense.
-----------------------
1.3 (!!!!!!!) typos
"I stayed up later than I should fixing my rocket boot and building a computer." -> "Should have"
"My power suggested healthier things, things at the root of the Human Augmentation tree, basic health care, foods I could make to boost my metabolism and build musculature." Grammatically weird. Maybe a colon after "healthier things"?
"I think he suspected I was a tinker, we mostly talked about tech, and while I kept the topics off any trees I had invested in… tinkers have some fairly predictable conversation tendencies." Period after "I was a tinker".
"though that wasn't to far off" -> "too"
"H+ The symbol for the conceptual opposite of an electron" Add a period or an "is" after "H+".
"It didn't, he saw the attack coming, pushed my leg aside easily with his halberd, deflecting the pulse into the wall." Period after it didn't.
"into it's backpack shape" -> "its"
"I had stashed an actual backpack to cover the metal with in the ally." -> "alley"
"and I was slowly working my into her good graces." -> "myself"
"Taylor still approaches the lunch table like a small, frightened animal. I can tell by the way the chair beneath her creaks, she isn't putting her full weight on it, ready to flee at the first sign of her tormentors." -> the rest of the narration in the chapter is in the past tense.
"Mr Wilson knows how to use the schools braille printer." -> "school's"
"and to which degree" -> kind of subjective but would be better as "to what degree" imo.
"Sophia was a Ward, it should be safe to show her," Comma splice. Add "as" to the beginning or "so" after the comma, or rephrase the sentence.
"my own self imposed isolation." -> "self-imposed"
"He had a very firm grip on my sister. I know." Should probably be "knew".
This kind of makes it sound as if Taylor is his sister.
--------------------------
1.2 typos
"the notched fence that boarded my property" -> "bordered"
"I'd tried to infer that I was embarrassed about a few sculptures" -> "imply"
"stripping the gold of everything in the box with certain chemicals" Should "of" be "off" here?
"On the interior of course, it was different." Probably better with a comma before, "of course".
"There was a small plug on the back of my head, sunk into my flesh and covered in fake hair, I gave it a half twist, pulled it out, and pushed the connection at the back of the mask into the small port in my skull. " Comma splice. Add a period before "I gave...".
"a years savings" - > "year's"
"Currently I have seven active, working pieces of tinkertech that aren't just tools. My mask, a pair of terminator eyes that can interface with my neural chip directly, but don't have wraparound vision, my neural chip, my spinal chip, my rocket boots, my jetpack, and my lightsabre." and "My power lets me spend the energy" Should be in past tense.
"star wars" -> "Star Wars"
"I ordered of E-bay" -> "off"
"It contained cash, two thousand dollars, and a small card with raised lettering." Value should be set off with dashes or parentheses. As is it's like the box contained cash and two thousand dollars and a small card. (Not sure it's wrong as is, but changing would remove the grammatical ambiguity.)
"Hopefully one of the gangs didn't try to recruit me, if they did… don't know, honestly." Comma splice and present tense.
-----------------------
1.3 (!!!!!!!) typos
"I stayed up later than I should fixing my rocket boot and building a computer." -> "Should have"
"My power suggested healthier things, things at the root of the Human Augmentation tree, basic health care, foods I could make to boost my metabolism and build musculature." Grammatically weird. Maybe a colon after "healthier things"?
"I think he suspected I was a tinker, we mostly talked about tech, and while I kept the topics off any trees I had invested in… tinkers have some fairly predictable conversation tendencies." Period after "I was a tinker".
"though that wasn't to far off" -> "too"
"H+ The symbol for the conceptual opposite of an electron" Add a period or an "is" after "H+".
"It didn't, he saw the attack coming, pushed my leg aside easily with his halberd, deflecting the pulse into the wall." Period after it didn't.
Last edited:
I like how this armsy wanted to be batman.
1.4 Typos. I think I'm going to stop noting them so I can just read though. I like the story too much for this!
"Armsmaster says you've been deadening your emotions, is that really safe?" Should probably be a period or semicolon, but in dialogue it's sort of excusable.
"I'd need sleep soon though, let my brain start to heal itself." Up to you since this is a stylistic thing you do, but it would be grammatically correct if you added a "to" before "sleep".
"As I stumbled closer The man stepped in front of the girl," Weird capitalization.
"Mostly mine, someone else's in there as well, but not a lot of it, didn't necessary mean I'd killed someone." Would be better with a period before "didn't" imo.
"Armsmaster says you've been deadening your emotions, is that really safe?" Should probably be a period or semicolon, but in dialogue it's sort of excusable.
Should be a comma after "you."
Pedantic, but brains suck at clock speed. The rest seems to make sense; it's just that the phrasing seems to like "had one" to "[a computer] with the clock speeds I needed for those sorts of calculations."
Would be better with a period after "than that".
"I'd need sleep soon though, let my brain start to heal itself." Up to you since this is a stylistic thing you do, but it would be grammatically correct if you added a "to" before "sleep".
"As I stumbled closer The man stepped in front of the girl," Weird capitalization.
"Mostly mine, someone else's in there as well, but not a lot of it, didn't necessary mean I'd killed someone." Would be better with a period before "didn't" imo.
- Location
- Australia
Many thanks. Finally all fixed.
3.M.2
- Location
- Australia
Surplus processing power shunted to increased structural redesign during relocation to destination:warehouse. Mayhem 3.0.5 Analytical package upgraded to 3.1.1 Naming conventions revised for added efficiency.
Surplus processing power now unavailable due to insufficient conflict. Extra-dimensional access unavailable. Predictive software now operating at only twelve percent maximum recorded capacity. Local radio station used to upgrade Social Analytic 18.9.1 to version 18.9.5. Social Analytic program operating at three percent efficiency with current resources. Vehicle Handling program updated to version 2.0.1. Now includes heavy vehicles.
No current threats to primary objective. Secondary objective achieved. Tertiary objective now has secondary priority. Quaternary objective now has tertiary priority.
Remaining program up-time: twenty two hours, fifty two minutes. Remaining unit up-time before primary objective necessitates inactivity: twenty six hours, thirty nine minutes. Continuing with secondary objective, 'generate conflict.' Tertiary objective, 'moral code' used to refine simulations. Archive found. 'Long term plan' found. Refining simulations. Additional conflict required.
Generating.
I hopped out of the truck, and grinned at Othala and Cricket as they pulled into the warehouse I'd chosen as my next lab. The place was in Merchant territory, a shabby, rundown building in a shabby, rundown area, and the PRT trucks would have stuck out like a sore thumb if the general chaos of the city wasn't so very conducive to hiding the trucks in plain sight. The trucks were now hidden in the abandoned warehouse, and while Adam wouldn't be able to drive the trucks out easily, that was his problem. His lab equipment and Sveta were back in his possession. He'd be able to find the building again, and when the Merchants and Protectorate found him he'd get extra conflict. All according to plan.
The small group of junkies were also part of the plan. Cricket was already heading into them, Kama drawn. Othala gave me enhanced speed, and I leaped into the fray as well, using mostly kicks to down them, and slashing shallow wounds with my scalpel to keep them down. For a while I was worried that I would need to stop Cricket from killing them in order to maintain my tertiary objective. Fortunately that wasn't required, while wonderfully violent, the woman wasn't going to make seven corpses for no particular reason, although the African American junkie was kicked viciously after he went down.
Mere seconds later the two of us stood in a small circle of groaning bodies, each one already marked by my scalpel. I nodded in satisfaction, and then buried that scalpel into Cricket's back.
She twirled, rage lighting her eyes, but I gave her a sad smile, ducked under her swing, kicked out at her shin, and then lunged into push her over while she struggled to regain her balance. Then I turned to walk towards Othala. Behind me Cricket pulled herself to her feet, took a hesitant step, and then fell over as the sedative kicked in.
Extra-dimensional processing dedicated to Social Analytic 18.9.5. Currently operating at thirty eight percent efficiency.
Othala looked at me in horror, backing away slowly.
"You. It was you, wasn't it? Some sort of Tinker… thing. I thought those wounds looked like Hookwolf's work. You won't get away with this, the others will find you."
"They did find me. It did not go well for them." I smiled, and Othala tried to get into the truck she had been driving. I used the remnants of her speed to slam into the door, closing it before she could enter.
"Know that you are the last free member of the E88, with the possible exception of Alabaster. I offer you a choice. Renounce the Empire and join me, or spend your future in chains." I told her.
She tried to punch me. I redirected the blow, and maneuvered her into a standard shoulder joint lock.
"Very well, this brings you two new choices. Either I hand you over to the PRT now. Or you agree to heal me on demand, I keep you in the lab, and I promise to free you in two months." I offered. The second option was optimal. Adam would begin another round of modifications soon, and Othala could drastically reduce recovery times between operations.
"Victor is going to find you, and when he does he'll rip the other arm off, and then he'll shove it through those empty eyes of yours and out the back of your head." Othala yelled.
I sighed. Not bad from a conflict viewpoint, but a suboptimal choice. Additional persuasion was required, but I lacked the conflict to run my Social Analytic at full efficiency, and the tertiary objective prevented other forms of persuasion.
I yanked Othala's arm a little more, enough that she was unable to recover from the pain before I was able to draw my last sedative scalpel and nick her with it.
The three trucks needed to stay here, and I couldn't carry nine bodies to the nearest PRT squad, so I needed a car. This was easy to acquire. One of the junkies had driven here, and it was easy to pat him down for the keys.
I filled the boot of the car with bodies, and then started piling people into the back seat. I left Cricket for last, and collected the data from my projections before moving her.
First, take one of her kama. It was a useful weapon anyway, very lethal if used correctly, but it could also be used incorrectly. Second, cut a very small heart shape into her wrist, away from any major veins or arteries. Third rub salt into the heart. Fourth, bandage it, with a scalpel wrapped neatly between the first and second layer of the bandage.
I dragged Cricket to the car, put her in the front passenger seat, and drove out of the warehouse.
Step five, drive into the more active area of the city and find a flower shop.
Hmm, the one I had selected was closed due to the bombings, and I needed to break the window. Using my hand to do it would cause enough damage to limit future combat options. What did I have that I could use? The Kama? No, the handle was too well padded, and the blade would be blunted. One of the junkies?
Running simulations to avoid violating tertiary objective while using unconscious man as bludgeon.
Then I saw the tire iron.
Disappointment.
I broke the window, climbed over the broken glass, collected a rose from the flower store, and wove the stem through the bars of Cricket's mask. There, task complete.
Finding a PRT patrol didn't take long, they were out in force tonight.
I stopped in front of their van, and pulled Cricket from the front seat.
"The dreamers should wake in the gray world of restriction." I said.
Extra-dimensional processing power low, Social Analytic 18.9.5 currently operating at three point seven percent. Additional conflict required.
The troopers spun to face me, foam guns and riot shotguns at the ready.
Conflict levels rising.
"Restrain the doers of evil." I said.
One of the men shot a riot suppression round at me, and I scowled as the smoke rose up, obscuring my body. Tear gas has more effect on people with eyes. Secondary symptoms could be ignored.
Five minutes later I pushed the last remaining PRT trooper into side of their van. His helmeted head bounced off the side with a clang, disorienting just long enough for me to grab his throat.
"Do you have medical supplies in there?" I asked.
"Y… yes. If that's all you need…" He said. I nicked him with my scalpel and let him fall coughing to the ground.
"Good. I was wondering how I would make sure you woke up before the criminals did." I told him, opening the van, and rooting around in their medical supplies to see what I had to work with.
A couple of options, I could give the troopers adrenaline to make them wake up sooner, or I could increase the effects of the sedative I'd applied to Cricket, Othala and the junkies. In the end I went with the first option. The tertiary objective made leaving the troopers unconscious in the middle of the street for long time periods undesirable.
I traded the junkies car for the PRT van, so I could listen to the police radio on the way over to Kayden's apartment. Nothing particularly interesting was on at the moment. I was hoping that the recent upheaval would have unearthed an additional group or two. Fighting the Undersiders, Coil or the Merchants would have been a good conflict source.
My predictions were slightly off. Theo was still asleep when I got back. He would wake up in roughly eight minutes. The baby was crying, and for some reason that was causing weird activity from the tertiary objective. The child was in no danger. It had received recent sustenance, it's waste would keep without anything more than mild discomfort.
I would wait for Theo to wake before waking Purity. Social projections while I had access to high levels of conflict had predicted a better reaction if the woman's children were not unconscious when she woke.
The crying continued, revisions to current code were unable to continue due to odd activity from tertiary objective.
I moved into the babies room, and looked down at the child, who briefly stopped crying.
"A small bundle of potential. Possibilities cascading from you like a waterfall. A delicate jewel that has yet to be carved." I told the child.
It started crying again.
"Cease your noise Loud Thing." I ordered.
It kept crying.
Additional processing unavailable, conflict unavailable. Updating Social Analytic 18.9.5 to 18.9.6, subsection; babies added. Testing at two point seven percent maximum efficiency.
"Hush little one, let this doll spin for you a tale." I said.
The crying spluttered to a stop.
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn." I said. Then I paused. Memories indicated that this was the point where the child was expected to fall asleep.
The crying began again.
Updating Social Analytic 18.9.6 to 18.9.7. Removed storytelling advisory.
Tertiary objective fluctuating. Tertiary objective re-initializing. Updating social projections.
Shame.
I moved out of the room, and shook Theo. The sedative was not a long term one. Eventually his eyes fluttered open.
"The child wails." I told him. He nodded, slowly and climbed to his feet, stiff from the hour spent unconscious on the floor.
"How long was I out?" He asked.
"Five thousand, two hundred and eighty two heartbeats." I told him.
He looked at me, blinked a bit, looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it and moved into Asters room. I allowed him to work while I administered the antidote to Purity. I listened to him as he stopped the child from crying.
A diaper change, soft muttering of 'it will be all right,' and 'calm down,' coupled with a hug.
Social Analytic 18.9.7 upgraded to 18.9.8. Comforting subsection added.
I sat down opposite Purity, in the chair still stained with my blood, and waited for her to wake up.
She didn't wake slowly as Theo had, instead she jerked up, flaring brightly. I had bought her from a combat zone, no doubt she assumed her sleep was some form of enemy attack. A correct assumption. She looked around, and her glow dimmed slightly when she realized where she was.
"Mayhem?" She said, turning to look at me.
"This doll has that designation." I told her.
She frowned.
"Are you OK Mayhem? What's happening?"
"My fire burns stronger than yours. What is happening? I happened. The rabid Wolves of White are chained now." I said.
Social Analytic 18.9.8 requests additional processing power for proper vocal rendering. Request denied. No readily available conflict.
Theo carried the baby into the room, and Purity floated to her feet and drifted between me and her children.
"Your cubs are safe." I told her. "The…"
Processing.
Purity frowned as the pause became noticeable. Substandard brain sections struggled to find an acceptable term.
"Large One told me that your heart is not a harsh white. I offer a hand of friendship."
"What happened to you?" Purity asked.
"A Wolf of Hooks, and activation." I said.
"Activation?" Purity queried.
"I am not the creator. I am the Broken Doll. You may speak with the creator when the sun rises and sets." I said.
Purity shone a little brighter.
"You said you fought Hookwolf. Why?" She demanded.
I sighed, and turned on the television. The local news was on a constant loop on most stations.
The secondary objective urged me to go out and find someone to fight. It was a hungry objective, always wanting more. But the plan served it. Long term, this would better fulfill my power's wishes.
Surplus processing power now unavailable due to insufficient conflict. Extra-dimensional access unavailable. Predictive software now operating at only twelve percent maximum recorded capacity. Local radio station used to upgrade Social Analytic 18.9.1 to version 18.9.5. Social Analytic program operating at three percent efficiency with current resources. Vehicle Handling program updated to version 2.0.1. Now includes heavy vehicles.
No current threats to primary objective. Secondary objective achieved. Tertiary objective now has secondary priority. Quaternary objective now has tertiary priority.
Remaining program up-time: twenty two hours, fifty two minutes. Remaining unit up-time before primary objective necessitates inactivity: twenty six hours, thirty nine minutes. Continuing with secondary objective, 'generate conflict.' Tertiary objective, 'moral code' used to refine simulations. Archive found. 'Long term plan' found. Refining simulations. Additional conflict required.
Generating.
I hopped out of the truck, and grinned at Othala and Cricket as they pulled into the warehouse I'd chosen as my next lab. The place was in Merchant territory, a shabby, rundown building in a shabby, rundown area, and the PRT trucks would have stuck out like a sore thumb if the general chaos of the city wasn't so very conducive to hiding the trucks in plain sight. The trucks were now hidden in the abandoned warehouse, and while Adam wouldn't be able to drive the trucks out easily, that was his problem. His lab equipment and Sveta were back in his possession. He'd be able to find the building again, and when the Merchants and Protectorate found him he'd get extra conflict. All according to plan.
The small group of junkies were also part of the plan. Cricket was already heading into them, Kama drawn. Othala gave me enhanced speed, and I leaped into the fray as well, using mostly kicks to down them, and slashing shallow wounds with my scalpel to keep them down. For a while I was worried that I would need to stop Cricket from killing them in order to maintain my tertiary objective. Fortunately that wasn't required, while wonderfully violent, the woman wasn't going to make seven corpses for no particular reason, although the African American junkie was kicked viciously after he went down.
Mere seconds later the two of us stood in a small circle of groaning bodies, each one already marked by my scalpel. I nodded in satisfaction, and then buried that scalpel into Cricket's back.
She twirled, rage lighting her eyes, but I gave her a sad smile, ducked under her swing, kicked out at her shin, and then lunged into push her over while she struggled to regain her balance. Then I turned to walk towards Othala. Behind me Cricket pulled herself to her feet, took a hesitant step, and then fell over as the sedative kicked in.
Extra-dimensional processing dedicated to Social Analytic 18.9.5. Currently operating at thirty eight percent efficiency.
Othala looked at me in horror, backing away slowly.
"You. It was you, wasn't it? Some sort of Tinker… thing. I thought those wounds looked like Hookwolf's work. You won't get away with this, the others will find you."
"They did find me. It did not go well for them." I smiled, and Othala tried to get into the truck she had been driving. I used the remnants of her speed to slam into the door, closing it before she could enter.
"Know that you are the last free member of the E88, with the possible exception of Alabaster. I offer you a choice. Renounce the Empire and join me, or spend your future in chains." I told her.
She tried to punch me. I redirected the blow, and maneuvered her into a standard shoulder joint lock.
"Very well, this brings you two new choices. Either I hand you over to the PRT now. Or you agree to heal me on demand, I keep you in the lab, and I promise to free you in two months." I offered. The second option was optimal. Adam would begin another round of modifications soon, and Othala could drastically reduce recovery times between operations.
"Victor is going to find you, and when he does he'll rip the other arm off, and then he'll shove it through those empty eyes of yours and out the back of your head." Othala yelled.
I sighed. Not bad from a conflict viewpoint, but a suboptimal choice. Additional persuasion was required, but I lacked the conflict to run my Social Analytic at full efficiency, and the tertiary objective prevented other forms of persuasion.
I yanked Othala's arm a little more, enough that she was unable to recover from the pain before I was able to draw my last sedative scalpel and nick her with it.
The three trucks needed to stay here, and I couldn't carry nine bodies to the nearest PRT squad, so I needed a car. This was easy to acquire. One of the junkies had driven here, and it was easy to pat him down for the keys.
I filled the boot of the car with bodies, and then started piling people into the back seat. I left Cricket for last, and collected the data from my projections before moving her.
First, take one of her kama. It was a useful weapon anyway, very lethal if used correctly, but it could also be used incorrectly. Second, cut a very small heart shape into her wrist, away from any major veins or arteries. Third rub salt into the heart. Fourth, bandage it, with a scalpel wrapped neatly between the first and second layer of the bandage.
I dragged Cricket to the car, put her in the front passenger seat, and drove out of the warehouse.
Step five, drive into the more active area of the city and find a flower shop.
Hmm, the one I had selected was closed due to the bombings, and I needed to break the window. Using my hand to do it would cause enough damage to limit future combat options. What did I have that I could use? The Kama? No, the handle was too well padded, and the blade would be blunted. One of the junkies?
Running simulations to avoid violating tertiary objective while using unconscious man as bludgeon.
Then I saw the tire iron.
Disappointment.
I broke the window, climbed over the broken glass, collected a rose from the flower store, and wove the stem through the bars of Cricket's mask. There, task complete.
Finding a PRT patrol didn't take long, they were out in force tonight.
I stopped in front of their van, and pulled Cricket from the front seat.
"The dreamers should wake in the gray world of restriction." I said.
Extra-dimensional processing power low, Social Analytic 18.9.5 currently operating at three point seven percent. Additional conflict required.
The troopers spun to face me, foam guns and riot shotguns at the ready.
Conflict levels rising.
"Restrain the doers of evil." I said.
One of the men shot a riot suppression round at me, and I scowled as the smoke rose up, obscuring my body. Tear gas has more effect on people with eyes. Secondary symptoms could be ignored.
Five minutes later I pushed the last remaining PRT trooper into side of their van. His helmeted head bounced off the side with a clang, disorienting just long enough for me to grab his throat.
"Do you have medical supplies in there?" I asked.
"Y… yes. If that's all you need…" He said. I nicked him with my scalpel and let him fall coughing to the ground.
"Good. I was wondering how I would make sure you woke up before the criminals did." I told him, opening the van, and rooting around in their medical supplies to see what I had to work with.
A couple of options, I could give the troopers adrenaline to make them wake up sooner, or I could increase the effects of the sedative I'd applied to Cricket, Othala and the junkies. In the end I went with the first option. The tertiary objective made leaving the troopers unconscious in the middle of the street for long time periods undesirable.
I traded the junkies car for the PRT van, so I could listen to the police radio on the way over to Kayden's apartment. Nothing particularly interesting was on at the moment. I was hoping that the recent upheaval would have unearthed an additional group or two. Fighting the Undersiders, Coil or the Merchants would have been a good conflict source.
My predictions were slightly off. Theo was still asleep when I got back. He would wake up in roughly eight minutes. The baby was crying, and for some reason that was causing weird activity from the tertiary objective. The child was in no danger. It had received recent sustenance, it's waste would keep without anything more than mild discomfort.
I would wait for Theo to wake before waking Purity. Social projections while I had access to high levels of conflict had predicted a better reaction if the woman's children were not unconscious when she woke.
The crying continued, revisions to current code were unable to continue due to odd activity from tertiary objective.
I moved into the babies room, and looked down at the child, who briefly stopped crying.
"A small bundle of potential. Possibilities cascading from you like a waterfall. A delicate jewel that has yet to be carved." I told the child.
It started crying again.
"Cease your noise Loud Thing." I ordered.
It kept crying.
Additional processing unavailable, conflict unavailable. Updating Social Analytic 18.9.5 to 18.9.6, subsection; babies added. Testing at two point seven percent maximum efficiency.
"Hush little one, let this doll spin for you a tale." I said.
The crying spluttered to a stop.
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn." I said. Then I paused. Memories indicated that this was the point where the child was expected to fall asleep.
The crying began again.
Updating Social Analytic 18.9.6 to 18.9.7. Removed storytelling advisory.
Tertiary objective fluctuating. Tertiary objective re-initializing. Updating social projections.
Shame.
I moved out of the room, and shook Theo. The sedative was not a long term one. Eventually his eyes fluttered open.
"The child wails." I told him. He nodded, slowly and climbed to his feet, stiff from the hour spent unconscious on the floor.
"How long was I out?" He asked.
"Five thousand, two hundred and eighty two heartbeats." I told him.
He looked at me, blinked a bit, looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it and moved into Asters room. I allowed him to work while I administered the antidote to Purity. I listened to him as he stopped the child from crying.
A diaper change, soft muttering of 'it will be all right,' and 'calm down,' coupled with a hug.
Social Analytic 18.9.7 upgraded to 18.9.8. Comforting subsection added.
I sat down opposite Purity, in the chair still stained with my blood, and waited for her to wake up.
She didn't wake slowly as Theo had, instead she jerked up, flaring brightly. I had bought her from a combat zone, no doubt she assumed her sleep was some form of enemy attack. A correct assumption. She looked around, and her glow dimmed slightly when she realized where she was.
"Mayhem?" She said, turning to look at me.
"This doll has that designation." I told her.
She frowned.
"Are you OK Mayhem? What's happening?"
"My fire burns stronger than yours. What is happening? I happened. The rabid Wolves of White are chained now." I said.
Social Analytic 18.9.8 requests additional processing power for proper vocal rendering. Request denied. No readily available conflict.
Theo carried the baby into the room, and Purity floated to her feet and drifted between me and her children.
"Your cubs are safe." I told her. "The…"
Processing.
Purity frowned as the pause became noticeable. Substandard brain sections struggled to find an acceptable term.
"Large One told me that your heart is not a harsh white. I offer a hand of friendship."
"What happened to you?" Purity asked.
"A Wolf of Hooks, and activation." I said.
"Activation?" Purity queried.
"I am not the creator. I am the Broken Doll. You may speak with the creator when the sun rises and sets." I said.
Purity shone a little brighter.
"You said you fought Hookwolf. Why?" She demanded.
I sighed, and turned on the television. The local news was on a constant loop on most stations.
The secondary objective urged me to go out and find someone to fight. It was a hungry objective, always wanting more. But the plan served it. Long term, this would better fulfill my power's wishes.
Last edited:
- Location
- Australia
For those of you who might be wondering, the Kama looks like this. I didn't actually know what one was until I looked it up.
Again, a reminder that Mayhem doesn't quite think like the narration, it has been adapted so that humans can read it.
Hope you enjoy, thanks for your comments, criticisms and corrections.
Again, a reminder that Mayhem doesn't quite think like the narration, it has been adapted so that humans can read it.
Hope you enjoy, thanks for your comments, criticisms and corrections.
wertsir
Knower of the Unknown
- Location
- Lost in A Deep Fog
No. the swastika is of asian origin, white supremacists have a history of stealing concepts from other cultures.
Furthermore while the Empire are white supremacists they are also pseudo-Nazi's, and the Nazi's were allied with Japan, (though the Empires conflict with the ABB does make it a bit odd) and the Kama is a Japanese weapon.
Last edited:
- Location
- hell
I always mix up kama and kukri when visualising Cricket.
Cricket, since I'm fairly sure we haven't seen Canary yet.
Cricket, since I'm fairly sure we haven't seen Canary yet.
Aw...he stabbed her in the back, cut a heart on her wrist, tied a rose to her face, gave her a concealed weapon, and left her in police custody... So romantic. I bet she thinks of him with every slash of the scalpel she uses to slaughter her way to freedom.