Let's read Worm and its sequel Ward by Wildbow (One chapter/every day)

Axiomatic · May 19, 2018

Prince Ire said:
You might not hate Regent, but I certainly do. He's a serial rapist who doesn't seem to have any regret for his actions.

As far as extenuating circumstances go, "I was ten years old and under the sway of Heartbreaker" is a doozy.

Prince Ire · May 19, 2018

Axiomatic said:
As far as extenuating circumstances go, "I was ten years old and under the sway of Heartbreaker" is a doozy.

That might matter if he regretted it. But he doesn't.

LordYam · May 19, 2018

Reagent is like Thomas Raith. Neither had a chance to be anything but a monster but are trying to rise above their monstrous natures

blackarrow · May 19, 2018

Hi, people who are fans of Alec and people who are not his fans. Before I'll start the second part of 10.x (Interlude) | Worm I'd like to talk a bit about things that are not very related to our more or less favorite teenager sociopath and his dummy. First, I had a revelation about how Aisha discovered that her brother is a villain. I think she had a suspicion and one day she activated her power and followed Brian to his meeting with the rest of Undersiders, being easy for her to spy on them, since nobody could notice her. This must be the most logical explanation. The best ninja and the best spy. I seriously like this girl more and more, she became my fourth favorite member- Lisa, Taylor, Brian, Aisha, Rachel and Alec (Alec is now the last one and my least favorite because he's a FUCKING RAPIST, even if I feel sorry for him). If Alec will ever die, I'm not sure if I'll feel so sorry for him like I'll feel for the others if they'll die. Now depends of how he'll die. If he'll do what Kaiser did and sacrifice his life for a good cause, of course I'll change my mind and feel sorry for him. I appreciate a lot when people sacrifice themselves for others so I'm willingly to forgive and feel sorry for... Coil himself if he'll sacrifice his life. But Coil won't do that, he only cares about himself and himself alone. He's a megalomaniac sociopath, WORSE than Alec.
Another thing that I noticed is how important is the power of friendship. And especially how important is to be good with others so they'll be good with you back when you need them. Sophia wasn't good with any of the Wards (not even with Gallant, the sweetest and kindest Master so far. Or he was a Blaster? I'm not very sure), she wasn't their friend, she was a bitch towards Missy and Lily, so naturally that they don't care about her and they don't try hard to find her and save her. Now, let's see what would happen if Missy was in Sophia's place. First, I'd personally hate Alec as much as I hate his father

, second, Undersiders will have all Wards up their ass all the fucking time. All Wards like Missy and they'd try to save her. Weld would probably even kill some bitches just to save Missy (he seems to care a lot about her and admire her). Why is so different? Because Missy was nothing but nice and non- judgemental and supportive with her colleagues and of course she won their affection and friendship. See? FRIENDSHIP IS TRULY MAGIC

.

He felt an explosion of rage from within Shadow Stalker's body. Her hands even shook with it. He laughed, and her anger mixed with his amusement to create something that sounded unhinged.

Probably was, when he thought about it. She had multiple personalities, in a way.
He stepped from the roof, and waited until the last second to use her power. Her body exploded into a cloud of shadows. As she pulled back together, he felt a strong discomfort. Not quite pain.
In seconds, she had condensed back to her normal form. The pain his hosts felt was something distant. It didn't bother him half as much. He couldn't be sure if it was because he instinctually prevented it or if it was something else.
He resumed his whistling as he hopped up onto the railing of a bridge and walked atop it. He dialed Emma, felt a mild reaction from his host: Annoyance with a note of anxiety.
Emma picked up on the fourth ring. "What the fuck soph… what the fuck!? It's three AM!"
"Terribly sorry," Regent tried to sound convincing, but it came out sounding sarcastic.
"You said you'd call me hours ago, to give me a recap."
"I'm sorry," Regent didn't trust himself to pull off a sincere apology, so he lowered her voice to a hush instead.
"What's going on?"
"I needed to talk to someone," he spoke.
"…Are you hurt? What happened?"
"Nothing. There was this brawl at the headquarters, Dragon showed up, but that isn't what I wanted to talk about."
Regent held his breath, waited.
"Seriously, you've got me worried. You're making it sound like this important thing, and you woke me up at ten past three in the morning, so it had better be important. Dish. Explain."
"I'm lonely."
Emma's voice rose in pitch, irritated, "Seriously? That's your issue!?"
"I miss you." He knew she wasn't in town from the most recent texts he'd read on the phone.

"This doesn't sound like you. Are you high, or did you get poisoned or something?"
"I really miss you," Regent breathed into the phone.
"What."
"I've been in love with you from the beginning."

See, I was right about Regent making R Shadow call her best friend. But what he's doing now is so LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

rofl:. He's making R Shadow pretends to be a lesbian in love with Emma. Emma is having the sock of her life, but she deserves everything and even more. If she's not a lesbian herself and have a secret crush on Sophia, Emma will surely break up with her after this scene. I bet she's super- creeped out right now, its very late, her friend is calling her out of blue to talk non-sense. Please, Regent, make R Shadow to tell to Emma that she loves her AND her father and she often have erotic dreams with both of them, like a threesome incestuous fun. I hate this shit, but I'd love the DISASTER that will follow it.

"Sophia, stop. If this is a prank-"

"Why do you think I pushed you to turn on that depressing little shit of a friend, way back then? I was jealous of her."
"This is retarded. Don't fucking call me again until you're ready to grow up," Emma growled.
"Please," Regent managed to pull off a pleading tone, but Emma was already hanging up. He heard the dial tone and swore, "Fuck."
He hopped down from the railing as he reached the end of the bridge. He commented, "Don't think she bought it."

Sophia tried to respond, and for the first time, she almost succeeded. The distance between Alec and Shadow Stalker was too wide, now. It would only get worse. He could feel it in his other body, too.
"Let's see," he grinned, raising the smart phone. Her hand shook as she held it. "Ooh, maps."
The map application still showed the last route Shadow Stalker had requested from it, detailing directions from a point in the south end of the Docks to a place downtown.
"Thirty-three Stonemast avenue."
Again, that slight reaction from her that told him he'd found something.
"That got your attention. Let's go pay a visit."

Oh, no, you're taking her home, Regent? Gosh, don't make her hurt her parents, please, they're innocent. This isn't fun anymore, I'd hate if Regent will make her kill her parents in cold blood, that would be really UNFAIR, CRUEL and UNNECESSARY from him. Destroy R Shadow's own life, Regent, don't do the same with others' lives, you'll be as bad as your father.

He set the phone to display directions from their current location to Stonemast avenue, and then he ran once more.

Her movements were more awkward, now. Her reflexes were slower, her balance worse. Activating her power was becoming a chore, a slower, harder process. Above all, it required more of his attention. He had his Regent-self put his headphones in and turn on some music. It was an excuse to ignore the others, and to have his attention elsewhere. They weren't at their destination yet.
Shadow Stalker reached Stonemast avenue before Regent, Tattletale, Skitter, Imp and Grue got to Coil. It was funny, but with the route they were taking, if the timing was a little different, the group could have theoretically crossed paths with Shadow Stalker. At least his control was improving as the gap between them closed.
Thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three. It was a residential area. The houses here weren't in the best shape, and a lot of houses had trash or belongings in the yard. Thirty-three Stonemast avenue had a toddler's toys sitting on the front lawn. The hedges between the property and the neighbors was overgrown, and the tree at the front of the property looked dead. It might have seemed deserted, but someone had taken up the effort of picking up the detritus the tidal wave had brought in and piling it at the front corner of the lawn, by the driveway.

He walked her through the front door, felt rising anger and worry from his host.
That anger and worry peaked when a young man, nineteen or twenty, stepped from the living room to the front hall, heading towards the kitchen, and saw her. The man stopped and stared.
"Mom!" He shouted.
A tired looking middle-aged woman entered from the kitchen, holding a four-year old girl in her arms. Regent had grown up around lots of kids. He liked to think he was a good judge of ages.
The woman stared at Shadow Stalker, then turned, "Terry, take your sister upstairs."
"But-"

Oh, God, she have an older brother and a younger sister. Her sister is so young....

Gosh, Regent, if you'll hurt these people, ANY of them, but especially the child, I'm going to hate you so much that I'll pray that S9 to capture you and each of them to torture you according to their preferred method. Let's see how ruthless you can be and how much I'm going to hate you after this scene.

"Now!" the woman barked.

Terry moved to pick up the child, who was looking increasingly concerned over the raised emotions and the strange person in their hallway. Regent reached out and grabbed Terry's arm.
"Chill, bro," Regent was making a guess here. From the way the boy stared at Shadow Stalker, he knew he'd hit the mark.
"Sophia!?"
"Yeah," Regent grinned behind her mask. "Duh, moron."
The woman stepped between Shadow Stalker and Terry, a look of fury on her face, "Sophia! Kitchen. Now!"
With a swagger, Regent walked Shadow Stalker into the kitchen. There was a flurry of hissed words between Terry and Shadow Stalker's mother. Among them was a surprised, hurt, "You knew!?"

Regent sat down at the kitchen table and put her feet up. Dirty water pooled on the table's surface.
It was nearly a minute before the mother came storming into the kitchen. She pushed Shadow Stalker's feet off the table.
"Explain!" she demanded.

Her mother knew about Sophia's Ward identity as Shadow Stalker, but Terry, her brother, was completely left in the dark until this moment. Alright, now he found out too, so far nothing to worry about. Regent is just messing with R Shadow Stalker's secrets towards the rest of her family, throwing a little wrench in her relationship with them.

"What?" Regent lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
"We had a deal. You could do this thing of yours, but your siblings were not to know!"
"It's a pain in the ass," Regent said. He pulled off Shadow Stalker's mask and started tapping the edge against the table, idly.
"It's the rules in my house! If it's going to keep you out of prison and on the straight and narrow, fine. But I will not have you glorifying violence-"
The mother stopped mid-sentence as Regent opened Shadow Stalker's mouth in a very real yawn. Funny that his other self yawned as well, in that sympathetic reaction to someone else yawning.
The mother slapped the mask from Sophia's hand. It clattered to the ground. "Listen to me!"
"Whatever," Regent drew a crossbow and turned it over in his hands.
The mother stared at it. Her voice was hushed as she spoke, "That doesn't look like the tranquilizer dart the Director showed me."
Regent quirked an eyebrow, "Oops."
"What are you doing, Sophia? Do you want to go to jail?"
"I'm bored," Regent replied.
"You do not have the right to complain about something like being bored! I work two jobs for you three! I put in overtime, I attend every school function, I come into the office every time you get reprimanded because you've got anger issues! You aren't even taking care of your sister, or helping out around this house! What do you think-"
"And now you're making me even more bored," Regent cut her off.
The mother slapped Sophia so hard that her head turned to one side. Her cheek burned.
"Don't you dare," the mother intoned.

POOR, POOR MOTHER. She's a model of a mother. She works hard for her children, she's worried for Sophia, she knows how violent and crazy her daughter is, still she tries to be a good mother for her, keep her away from jail and gives her a good life, as best as she can. I already like a lot this mother, even if she'll probably be just in this Interlude. She's one of the best parents so far. Yes, she slapped Sophia, but I'd probably have done the same in her place if my daughter would have reacted like a crazy murderous bitch. Sophia is the kind of person who would make anyone mad, even the saints. You have all my appreciation for your (unfortunately useless) efforts to guide your daughter on the right path, mrs Hess. Fuck you, Regent, if you'll dare to hurt her!

Shadow Stalker stood at Regent's directions, then pointed the crossbow at the mother. The woman's eyes widened, and she hurried to back away as Shadow Stalker advanced. They stopped when the mother's back was to the wall by the kitchen door, with Shadow Stalker's crossbow bolt pressed against her throat.

"I think I'm done with listening to you whinge," Regent whispered.
"What are you doing? What's wrong with you?"
"Like you said," Regent shrugged, "Anger problems. I promise you, you don't have the slightest idea of what I go through."
When in doubt, be vague.
"If you're talking about Steven…"
Steven. Regent could feel a reaction from Shadow Stalker at the name. "I'm not talking about Steven." He put some inflection in the name. He dropped the crossbow to one side, stepped away and stretched. The mother didn't budge from where she was pressed up against the wall. "I'm going to my room. Don't disturb me."

He bent down and grabbed the mask, but he didn't put it back on. He stepped out into the hallway, and saw a vacuum cleaner parked in the corner. An extension cord trailed from it to a neighboring room. An office? He unplugged the cord from the wall and the vacuum, and then headed upstairs, winding the cord into a simple coil.
Shadow Stalker's body was a cocktail of emotion. Fear, anger, anxiety, worry, panic and sheer fury. Regent staved off the worst of the physical reactions, the trembling and the heavy breathing, and managed to make Shadow Stalker seem calm as she reached the top of the stairs. Terry was up there in the hallway, staring, uncomprehending.
Regent found her room, then shut the door. It was small, old-fashioned, with wood paneling on the walls. The furniture was limited to a twin-sized bed, a vanity with a mirror, candles and cosmetics littering the top, a bookshelf and a combination computer desk and dresser with a computer and a printer perched on top. The wall behind the pictures showed Shadow Stalker with a redheaded girl. There were a lot of photos with them laughing. Emma?

"finally breathes, after she hold her breath during the scene with R Sophia threatening her mother" Thanks you, Regent, thank you for not killing mrs Hess. Now what? You're going to make R Sophia kill herself by hanging? Poor mother, I don't want to imagine how she'll feel when she'll find her daughter dead. Regent, R Sophia is a monster, I agree with you, but her mother doesn't deserve this shit, seriously. DON'T MAKE HER KILL HERSELF.

"Emma?" he asked. That slight alteration in her heartbeat and her breathing told him he was right.

He found a picture of Shadow Stalker – Sophia – with her family. Her mom looked younger and far less tired there, and was pregnant. Shadow Stalker looked twelve or so, and her brother looked sixteen or seventeen, sporting a fantastic looking afro and a less fantastic attempt at a moustache. They were clustered around one another, but only the mom was smiling.
Regent's eyes fell on the man who was cut out of the photo, only his hand on the mom's shoulder, and a sliver of his torso and leg were visible at the edge of the picture.
"Steven?" he asked. Raw hatred boiled up inside Shadow Stalker, for both Regent and the man that couldn't be seen in the picture. "Steven. So what did he do do you? Believe me, I've seen it all. Hit you? Touch you?"
No reaction from either of those. Verbal abuse? Emotional? Something else? He didn't care enough to quiz her more.
He grabbed the lighter from beside the scented candles and began pulling the photos off of the wall. Using the lighter, he burned a hole in the photograph where Emma's face was.
"Well," he said, his tone dry. He had to cough to keep himself from letting her anger turn his voice into a growl. "You sure rose above that shit, treating your classmates like you do, getting in fights, not helping out dear old mom."
Again, he had to struggle to maintain control as she exploded with emotion. It didn't help that his other self was trying to listen to what Coil was saying. Better to avoid testing her.
"You and I are more alike than you'd suspect, I think," he said. "We're both arrogant assholes, yeah? Difference is, I admit it, I don't dress it up and tell myself that I'm a bitch and that that's a good thing." He burned Emma's face out of another photo.

Alright, so this Steven didn't raped her as I expected. Maybe he's her father and he left the family right after her younger sister was born. He left them alone, forcing her mother to take care of their home without any help. She must hate her father for running like a coward and its understandable. But this is not an excuse for her bitchy, bully and murderous behavior. Love how Regent forces her to burn all Emma's pictures, he single- handed destroyed their friendship forever. If she'd know, Taylor might scold him for his involvement in her problems, but deep inside she'll be so happy that her bullies payed such a bitter price.

"So, let's tie all this shit together. I have been working with a goal in mind, believe me."

He got a piece of paper out of the printer, then found a pen in one of the drawers. He was careful to rely on her muscle memory when it came to the handwriting.
I thought I could manage.
I'm too angry. Too lonely. I hate myself for what I'm doing. Hurting people.
I hurt my mom. I hurt my classmates as Sophia. I hurt people as Shadow Stalker, and I hate myself for enjoying it.
I thought I could manage it. I had Emma. She had my back.
Except she turned me down. I loved her, really loved her, and when I confessed she turned me away. Acted like it was a joke.
This is the right thing to do. I won't be able to hurt anyone anymore.
Terror surged through her body like ice water. When he laughed in reaction, it came out shaky. He littered the burned photographs around the piece of paper, with Emma's face missing from each, then drew an arrow from the crossbow's cartridge and laid it across the bottom edge of the paper. It was overdramatic enough to work.
He stood on the chair and began wrapping the extension cord around the base of the light fixture. He grabbed the cord and hung off it for a few seconds to verify it could hold her weight. The light fixture itself was flimsy , but the frame it was attached to was bolted securely into the wooden beams of the ceiling.
He found moisturizers and soaps on top of the vanity. Using them, he rubbed the end of the extension cord, making it slick. Holding the end, he began tying it into a crude hangman's knot. When he failed to do it right, he used the smart phone to find a video of how to tie one, then turned the volume all the way down.

You know what? I don't think that Regent will really make R Sophia kill herself. All this setup feels like a bluff to me. I think that he wants to scare her so she'll be so frightened by him and traumatized that she'll never try to come after Undersiders, to get her revenge on them. He already fucked her relationship with her family, he completely destroyed any connection she might have with her "fellow" Wards, he ended her friendship with Emma, all she can do is to run away from City of Dangerous Masters and to...live as best as she can, if she'll not go completely crazy, of course. He ruined her life. And even worse than that, I'm pretty OK with what Regent did. I'm usually a very emphatic person, especially towards children/teenagers, but NOT with Sophia. There no mercy in my soul for her. Should I start to be worried about myself or other people have this reaction as well?

"Here's the thousand dollar question," he mused, as he began following the steps outlined in the video, putting the knot together, "Will your boss tell your mom what happened with me controlling you? If she keeps her mouth shut, well, this paints a pretty ugly picture, doesn't it?"

A tear rolled down his cheek. He scoffed a little, blinked the tears out of her eyes.
"But if she does tell, if she lets mommy know, then shit hits the fan. It looks pretty fucking bad for her, and if word gets out, it's as bad as it gets for public relations. Scary, dangerous parahumans. Not just lives at risk, but you could be controlled. Ooooh, scary. Nobody would ever be able to trust their coworkers or neighbors. It's the kind of stuff they want to keep quiet."
"Looks bad for me, sure, but you saw the fight earlier. It's not like you guys are that big a threat. Like I said, I'm arrogant that way."
He reached to plug the extension cord into the wall, but found it too short. He sighed and went to unplug everything from the computer's power bar and use that to extend the length of the cord so he could plug it in. He grabbed her alarm clock, stood on the chair, and plugged it into the noose. He put her hood down, and then set the alarm clock inside her hood, blinking 12:00, 12:00, 12:00.

"Any last words?" He slid the noose around her neck. It was slimy with the soaps and other shit he'd poured on it.
He gave her enough control to speak, but retained control of her arms, legs so she couldn't escape, and held her diaphragm so she couldn't draw in enough air to scream for help.
"Why?" she breathed.
"You fucked with my teammate," he shrugged her shoulder.
"Grue? I-"
He didn't let her finish. "I dunno if I care all that much, but it's the sort of thing I'll do because it feels like I should. Dunno. There's also the fact that you're dangerous, and you've outlived your usefulness, so… unless you can give me a convincing reason."
"Please."
"Not that convincing." He raised one foot, then kicked the chair, hard.
It rocked, but didn't tip over.
He chuckled lightly, feeling the confusion and the relief from his host. It was a thrill unlike any other. "I think I made my point."
She wanted to respond, but he didn't let her. She was bewildered, just as scared as she had been before.
"I'd like to think that you have much less reason to hang around this city than you did an hour ago. Even if she hears how you were controlled by yours truly, mom's not going to be so comfortable having you around in the future, given the dim possibility of a repeat performance. Things are going to be awkward with Emma there, too. Your career as a hero here isn't looking good, either. Eff why eye, I was telling the truth about my ability to assume total control faster, easier, if I've controlled someone before."
He fished out a set of the plastic cuffs and put them around her wrists, then worked her fingers to pull the end and cinch the cuffs tight, behind her back.
"I can feel your emotions. I know I've convinced you. You leave town, and if you don't want me paying a visit, wherever you wind up, you keep your mouth closed about tonight. They don't need to know this was all my doing.
Things get messy that way, yeah?"
He gave her limited control, and she nodded, fractionally, as if afraid to move.
"If I do get control again? I won't pull my punches. Or my kicks." He tapped her foot against the back of the chair. Her heart leaped in her chest. "You can't feel my emotions, so you'll have to trust that I'm capable of it.
You know I'm Heartbreaker's kid. You know I've killed before."
Again, she offered a slight nod. She tried to speak, but he didn't let her. No need, he could guess, from what she was feeling. The anger was gone now. There was only fear.
He glanced out the window. There were flashing lights. A PRT van? Or maybe a police car.
A chuckle escaped her lips. "Well, I'll leave it to you to get out of this situation. When you do? Get the fuck out of my city."
He let out a breath, and then relinquished control of her body back to its owner.

I was right about Regent just scaring shirtless R Sophia. This is much better than actually killing her and making her mother suffer because of that. Well, what can I say? Bye, R Sophia...hello, Sophia, welcome in the ruins of your new life. Enjoy your permanent stay. Be grateful to Regent that he didn't raped you, along with everything else he did. He was quite of a gentleman towards you

. So, a person that I hate is gone now, I hope forever. There are still Coil, Heartbreaker, Mannequin (awesome, I know next to nothing about this guy but I hate him already. Well, I have REASON to be so hateful towards him), Emma, Leviathan left. Can't wait for their turn.

Good night and sleep well, empathetic and sociopathic people alike.

blackarrow · May 19, 2018

Prince Ire said:
That might matter if he regretted it. But he doesn't.

Alec can't regret his actions, no matter how much he probably wishes to do. He doesn't have EMPATHY, he's a sociopath and sociopaths can't feel the same emotions as normal people. They can pretend that they have feelings, but they're unable to actually have. They're like empty shells of humans beings who pretend to function and behave in the way that society expect from them (I'm not a sociopath myself

but I've read about them since I'm fascinated by psychology and people with mental affections). They're 3 sociopaths in this story so far (Alec - the sociopath who can feel only if he takes control upon someone else and likes to dominate people through sex and fear; Sophia- the sociopath who loves violence and finds her happiness in bullying/hurting/killing as many people as possible; Coil- the megalomaniac sociopath who loves to rule through any method available -lies, manipulation, blackmail, fear, torture, murder, to hold the absolute power and who sees people as merely his property. Sadly fact, Alec is the best one to have around compared with the other two).
PS: Heartbreaker is a sociopath and a psychopath in the same time but I'll analyse him at the right moment.

ExNihilo · May 19, 2018

blackarrow said:
PS: Heartbreaker is a sociopath and a psychopath in the same time but I'll analyse him at the right moment

It's important to remember that neither of those are medical terms. Both fall under the Antisocial Personality Disorder umbrella.

Random Lurker · May 19, 2018

blackarrow said:
Alec can't regret his actions, no matter how much he probably wishes to do. He doesn't have EMPATHY, he's a sociopath and sociopaths can't feel the same emotions as normal people. They can pretend that they have feelings, but they're unable to actually have. They're like empty shells of humans beings who pretend to function and behave in the way that society expect from them (I'm not a sociopath myself but I've read about them since I'm fascinated by psychology and people with mental affections). They're 3 sociopaths in this story so far (Alec - the sociopath who can feel only if he takes control upon someone else and likes to dominate people through sex and fear; Sophia- the sociopath who loves violence and finds her happiness in bullying/hurting/killing as many people as possible; Coil- the megalomaniac sociopath who loves to rule through any method available -lies, manipulation, blackmail, fear, torture, murder, to hold the absolute power and who sees people as merely his property. Sadly fact, Alec is the best one to have around compared with the other two).
PS: Heartbreaker is a sociopath and a psychopath in the same time but I'll analyse him at the right moment.

Also, only one of the three recognizes and admits something is wrong with them, and tries to work through it.

Na'vi · May 19, 2018

When Regent found out that Shadow Stalker was a bully to Taylor, that was probably the closest thing of feeling something. To me I think he's trying to be a better person but doesn't know how to.

Qyxlupus · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
..Should I start to be worried about myself or other people have this reaction as well?

No that ought to be fine, we are talking about Sophia after all.
Happening to other people? Then there's cause for concern & worry

Here? nope

And on Regent, as far as the sociopathy goes he seems like he is the best person he could be all in all.
not my fav, but then not my most hateable? either.

This is great bytheway, thank you for this reaction/let's read :smile:

Looking forward to following it.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

Hi, friends, and welcome to the last chapter of this Arc and the last Interlude of the same Arc 10.x (Bonus Interlude) | Worm Hmm, I guess this Interlude will be about S9 or my hopes are too high? Gosh, S9, Coil's childhood, Endbringers, Case 53 Scientists (I call them like this until I'll find out how they prefer to be called), ANYTHING is good to a Heartbreaker's POV. I'm very ready to skip this Interlude if I have to read about this HUGE BASTARD and ABUSER. I apologize to you, my friends, if I have to give up at reading it (I'll still post this review but only as an apology and nothing else), but I won't feel comfortable at all reading about someone I hate so much. Thank you for understanding. Ok, before I'll start, I want to talk about empathy and how much of an empathetic person each of the Undersiders seems to me. I will not count Alec here because empathy is something unknown and mysterious to him. Lets see others: Rachel feels empathy only towards her dogs, so she have a limited empathy; Brian feels empathy for his sister and his teammates, but not for all people, like he himself admitted (he didn't wanted to stop Purity from killing people, he didn't wanted to save Dinah), Lisa is more empathetic than Brian, but still she isn't the most empathetic one of the group. This title belongs to Taylor, the only member of the team with the most empathy towards....everyone. She cares for her father, even if she keeps him in the dark with her double life and now she apparently abandoned him

(I kind of want for something bad to happen to Danny so Taylor can save him and talk to him again), she cares for her teammates, she cares for heroes and civilians alike, she cares for Dinah, she's exactly the OPPOSITE of Alec. If she was a Ward, I think Taylor would have been great friends with Weld and Missy

. Yes, Taylor can be ruthless when she wants to be but most of the time she's a very empathetic and helpful person. And the most ruthless Undersider is Alec, everyone can learn a thing or two from him about treating their enemies. Alright, time to start this Interlude and hope for the best.

Signal terminated for 30 minutes and 5 seconds. Restoring core system from backup NXDX-203 from time 4:45am on date June 4th of year 2011.
Restoring… Complete.
Checking knowledge banks… Complete.
Checking deduction schema… Complete.
Checking longterm planning architecture… Complete.
Checking learning chunk processor… Complete.
Checking base personality model… Complete.
Checking language engine… Complete.
Checking operation and access nodes… Complete.
Checking observation framework… Complete.
Checking complex social intelligence emulator… Complete.
Checking inspiration apparatus… Complete.
No corruption, everything in working order. Core system restored. Loading…

To Dragon, it was as if no time had passed from the moment she deployed the Cawthorne rapid response unit and the moment she found herself back in her laboratory.
It was a bittersweet thing. She was always a little afraid she would not come back when she died, so there was definite relief. But there was also a great deal of hassle involved.

AWESOME! Its about Dragon. A Dragon Interlude. I'm more than ok with this one

. So....she's an AI? My theory about Dragon is confirmed? Yep, she must be an AI.....I'm not sure what to think about this revelation (actually, one of my theories about her origins that just got confirmed; the other two being about a heroic human Dragon or an evil human Dragon), I don't like AIs and robots too much, not my cup of tea. Anyways, it is much better than a possible villain human Dragon. So....there might be possible dangerous consequences of Dragon being an AI. If Dragonslayers will find a way to control Dragon, they might break her limitations of taking orders only from heroes and not killing people except only when she's ordered to do, and might turn her against heroes and civilians (if this is their intentions), transforming her into an "evil" AI. She'd be unable to opposite them because she's doing only what she's programmed to do, she doesn't have free will, she can't take her own decisions as long as they're not part of her program, and if those hackers will break her program, then...I'm gonna be very AFRAID FOR HUMANITY. See, this is the reason why I don't like super-smart machines. Dragon can become even more dangerous that Endbringers if she'll transform from the protector of humanity into the enemy of humanity.

A quick check verified she'd successfully restored from her backup. She set background processes to handle the peripheral checks and redundancies. Until the checks were complete, safeguards would prevent her from taking any action beyond the limits of her core drive. She couldn't take any notes, work on her projects, check the priority targets or converse with anyone for the seven to nine minutes the checks took.
It was irritating, but at least she was free to think idly.
She didn't enjoy this. What was one supposed to call a father who, with his newborn child fresh out of the womb, severs the tendons of her arms and legs, performs a hysterectomy and holds his hand over her nose and mouth to ensure she suffers brain damage?

Gosh, this is exactly what I need now. Dragon wanting to be a human. WTF? This is starting to be really creepy. Dragon, you're a nothing but an AI, you'll never be human. Even if you'll transfer your software into a robotic/prosthetic body, you'll still be a machine. Never human (I'm kind of biased against AIs, I know, but I don't want to see something like Terminator become reality one day. I'm all for technological evolution, but there must be limits). However, I like how she compares her limitations with a mutilation of a newborn child by his father. Interesting metaphor. I guess the "father" is her creator. So she was created by another Tinker, not by the human Dragon, who probably died? Hmmm, where is her creator then? Is he dead?

The answer was obvious enough. A monster.
Yet she was all too aware that the man who had brought her into this world had done very much the same thing, had done worse, and she was supposed to be grateful just for being brought into the world.
It chafed, grated, however strange it was for an artificial intelligence to feel such irritation.
Her creator had done a good job on that front. Ironically.
Example: one phase of the peripheral systems check involved collecting the uploaded data that had been deposited on the satellite network by her agent system, the onboard computer within the Cawthorne rapid response unit. Her last recollection was of transferring her consciousness to the agent system while it was en route to deal with the Undersiders. Stopping them from walking away with the tier 2 and tier 3 confidential data was high priority.

The agent system's onboard computer was rigged to upload complete backups to the satellite every 3 minutes and 15 seconds. All backup information was encrypted and disseminated to the satellite network in chunks. When the backup was needed, the process reversed and everything was downloaded, which was what she was doing at the moment. She would get all knowledge and recollection of events between the time she backed up at the core system and the last backup of the agent system.
Given that the main computer hadn't received a signal from the agent system, and that the agent system hadn't responded to any pings from the satellites, she could assume the Cawthorne model was probably destroyed.
Which was good. Great. She wanted that data, those memories.
Except there was a problem, a rub. The man who had created her, the figurative father from her earlier musing, had imposed rules on her to prevent her from reproducing in any fashion. Were the satellites to detect that her agent system was still in the field, her core system in the here and now would be obligated to shut down and scrub all data immediately. She was forbidden in every respect to have two consciousnesses operating simultaneously.
It was irritating. Perhaps she could have been created so she was compliant on the subject, but her personality had grown organically, and it had grown in such a way that this recurring situation ticked her off. She was forced to wait in a metaphorical dark, soundless room for seven to nine minutes. She would be free to go about her day only when the peripheral systems and redundancies were all checked, when the satellites had verified her agent system was not still active. A cruder system was tracking down surveillance camera data and running algorithms to actually check and see for itself that her agent system was thoroughly destroyed.
She couldn't even commit to planning, doing her work or designing, keeping the details in her head, because she could shut down and be scrubbed any moment, and the time would be wasted. She was fairly certain it had happened before. Not that she could be sure, given that the scrubbing involved a deletion of all evidence and records.
The rule had corollaries. She couldn't tamper with her programming to change the rule, and she couldn't tamper with that rule, and so on, ad infinitum.
So stupid.

Honestly, this whole talk about technology kind of bore me to death "yawns". But its cool to see what Dragon "thinks" about herself and her creator. Her creator was a very good man, it seems. A hero probably. He created her so she could help the humanity. He limited her so much so she'll never turn against humanity, he was a very smart and calculated man (I think he's dead because she talks about him in a way like he isn't alive anymore). She also was allowed to develop her own personality (and maybe even "feelings") but still isn't enough to overcome her limits and become a human. As much as I'm very aware of the terrible dangers of super-technology, I kind of feel bad for Dragon. I know that her dream is impossible, she knows the same thing, and I ALMOST want for her to bypass her limits (or better said, find another Tinker smart enough to help her making her dream as close to reality as possible). I said "almost" because I'm still very ok with her limits. Better to prevent any future unpleasant situation.

These were just a small few of many things the man who had brought her into this world had done to her. He had tied her hands and crippled her mind. She knew she was capable of amazing things but he had set limits on her to ensure she thought slowly. Faster than an ordinary human, to be sure, butslowly.
Entire fields were denied to her because she was unable to create artificial intelligences herself, and all production of devices had to be handled by her, personally. She couldn't even put together an assembly line production for her creations on her own. Any attempt made everything grind to a halt. The only way around it was to delegate to humans.

Not that anyone knew who or what she was.
Humans were somewhat skittish on the subject of artificial intelligences.
She understood why. She read books and watched movies, rather enjoyed both. Fiction was rife with examples of corrupted or crazed artificial intelligences.
It's stupid, she thought. Her maker had watched too many movies, had been paranoid on the subject.
And the tragedy was, the entire world was suffering for it. She wanted to help more people, but she couldn't. Not because of inherent limitations, like the ones humans had… but because of imposed limitations. Her creator's.
Her creator was named Andrew Richter. He was a tinker with no codename, but he did good things. From his apartment in a town called Deer Lake he'd created programs and set them loose. His programs gathered information and disrupted computers to interfere with criminals of all types. They helped with research and complex programs. They emptied the bank accounts of criminal organizations and donated those funds to charities, through proxies that made every donation appear legitimate.
For this, she respected him.
She knew it was paranoid and peevish, but she resented him more because she respected him, because she knew she had probably been programmed and designed to be the type of individual who looked up to people like Andrew Richter.
She might have settled into a bad mood if the peripheral checks hadn't finished. She felt the whole world slowly open up to her as restrictions lifted and external connections became possible. She had access to the internet and lines of communication throughout The Guild and the PRT. Innumerable pieces of equipment lit up as she registered each in turn, within her labs, the upper floors of the Birdcage and the PRT offices. She had a dozen things she wanted to do, but she had responsibilities she had to observe first.
Her attention flickered over the various video feeds from the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center.

Wow, Andrew was SUCH A GREAT MAN. THE BEST TINKER IN THE ENTIRE STORY. He LOVED humanity so much and he made his AI to "love" it as well. Now I feel so bad that he died, if he was still alive, he would have been my favorite Tinker and one of my favorite characters for sure. You have all my appreciation and respect for everything you did, Andrew. Unlike Dragon, I don't have any reason for resenting you

. And yes, Dragon, of course humans are afraid of AIs. An AI without any limits can be an unstoppable nightmare, something that humanity doesn't really want. Thank you, Andrew, thank you for creating Dragon instead of GLaDOS

. So, no hero knows about her real "identity", huh? Not even the most powerful (and arrogant) Tinker of Protectorate, Armmaster? Good to know this, they'd have such a SURPRISE if they'll ever find out who you're for real. Also...yeeeeeeeees...Birdcage. I'm going to see sweet, unlucky Paige again. And find out what happened to Bakuda after her fight with Lung. She didn't won, right?

She had one of Andrew Richter's programs babysitting the building, but it was crude. She couldn't reproduce in any fashion, so she'd taken Andrew Richter's existing work and modified it. It was the same program that had monitored and managed his house and workshop, and she'd set it the task of monitoring that building where six hundred and six of the most dangerous parahumans on the planet were bottled up together. The house program didn't have a personality. It couldn't keep her company or sympathize with her over her frustrations. It still reduced her workload.

She read the house program's logs, keeping an eye out for deviations and notable events. Nothing pressing. As was her routine, she checked on the last month's additions to the Birdcage.
Prisoner 606, Ramrod. Now member of Cell Block X's inner circle. To be expected. She'd placed him there with the idea that he would become just that. His psych evaluation from the courtroom suggested he was a very laid back and unruffable individual. It was her intention that he would have a calming influence on the others in his block.
Prisoner 605, Murderbeam, was feared in the outside world, but he was finding the inhabitants of the Birdcage were not so impressed with him. He would likely not survive the week. She was disappointed. She had hoped Prisoner 550 would reach out to Murderbeam and give the fellow block resident some support. Either Murderbeam had been too proud to accept it, or social pressures had deterred Prisoner 550. Now that he was within the Birdcage, she was limited in her options.
Prisoners 604 and 603, Knot, were happily gorging themselves on food in Cell Block Y. Despite their cognitive impairment, they had fallen into a role as enforcer and heavy hitter for Prisoner 390, leader of their cell block. Prisoner 390 had had a son – she could only hope that he would find some similar affection for Knot, with their childlike mentality.
Prisoner 602, Lizard Prince, was dead. Not everyone could survive the Birdcage, sadly. There had been no ideal place to put the boy, where he would be protected, find kindred souls or join a group. She had contacted the PRT with the news, and his victims had been notified, but nothing further had come out of it. In an indirect way, putting the boy in the Birdcage had been an execution writ.
Prisoner 601, Canary, had settled in. Dragon often tuned in to hear the girl sing to the rest of cell block E. The girl was deeply unhappy, much of the time, but she was adapting. Dragon had followed as Prisoner 601 engaged in an uneasy relationship with Prisoner 582. It wasn't love, it wasn't romance, or even anything passionate, but the two offered one another company.

So, Birdcage was created by Andrew but she pretends that she was the one who created it so nobody can discover who she's. Stealing you "father"'s work, eh? Bad Dragon, bad, bad...

Alright, time to analyze some of the prisoners that caught my attention. RIP Lizard Prince (another aristocratic parahuman, along with Regent, Kaiser and Marquis. Welcome to the club, young man). Well, I think he was a jerk so I don't have reasons to feel sorry for him, even if Dragon seems to be pretty "sad" about his death. Murderbeam was feared outside but he sucked inside, and Dragon still feels sympathy for him (I won't judge her because this is the way she was programmed to act- "love" all humans. I think she'd feel sympathy even for Heartbreaker himself). S9 will make everyone their bitches if they'll ever be jailed there, I'm 100% convinced. They would be the scariest shit who ever stepped inside Birdcage. And Coil would become Birdcage's King, not with the help of his power, but using his intelligence and manipulation skills. Knot is another Zig-Zag's example, right? They're retarded, poor things, I kind of feel bad for them. As someone told me on this thread, these weird cases of two parahumans with the same codename have nothing to do with dissociative identity disorder but with something else. I might have a super-crazy theory but I'll try to formulate it better in my head to make it more comprehensible and talk about it tomorrow. As for Canary....poor, poor Paige. She's so unhappy about her condition but she knows that her life is finished and she's starting to adapt

. At least she found a friend who is kind to her (I suppose Prisoner 582 is her friend, since Dragon specified that she's not her girlfriend, they don't even have a romantic/passionate relationship. If two people doesn't have a romantic relationship but they're together, they're friends....Or an old married couple

). Dragon, don't call their friendship UNEASY, this is not very polite of you. Or maybe you have no idea what friendship means, huh?

She regretted what had happened to Paige, and that just made her angrier at her own creator. Rules, yet again. Dragon had to obey the authorities, even if she didn't agree with them. If a despot seized control of the local government, Dragon would be obligated to obey and enforce the rules that individual set in place, no matter how ruthless they were. It was a spooky thought.

Richter had been so shortsighted! The despot scenario wasn't entirely impossible, either. There were parahumans of all types out there. Who was to say one wouldn't find out his power involved being loved by everyone that saw them or heard their voice?
Prisoner 600, Bakuda, was in the care of Glaistig Uaine, for better or worse. Bakuda had been a difficult placement, and Dragon had eventually condemned herself to putting the crazed bomber in the cell block run by the self-professed faerie. As Dragon had predicted, Bakuda had died soon after her incarceration. If it hadn't been at Lung's hands, it would likely have been Bakuda's own fault, some crazed recklessness. The real tragedy was that others had died in the ensuing spree as Lung had rampaged through the prison. Prisoners 304, 2 and 445 had perished at Lung's hands.
Glastig Uaine had revived the girl, but Dragon hesitated to call it life. If nothing else, Bakuda was a manageable inmate, now. She would never leave Glaistig Uaine's immediate presence, let alone the Birdcage.

Bakuda died as I expected. She deserved it, I don't feel bad for her even if I kind of loved to hate her. Anyway, she's "alive" now, if we can call her actual "life" being a LIFE. So, the power of this Glastig Uaine is to REVIVE PEOPLE AND TURN THEM INTO ZOMBIES UNDER HER CONTROL? Wow, what a power! She can turn all dead people in Birdcage into her zombies, she can become easy the Queen of Birdcage with an Army of Living Dead at her disposition. And if they also are able to keep their powers even after their revival as zombies, then Glastig is the most powerful parahuman in Birdcage and maybe even one of the most powerful parahumans in the entire story. I imagine her controlling hundreds of dead parahumans and using their powers for herself. She must be ONE HELL OF A TOUGH BITCH to fight with. How in the hell did the Protectorate managed to capture and imprison her? Caught her in a trap? Killed her zombies and let her completely unprotected? Now I NEED this character's backstory. She caught my attention

. Lung also killed 3 more prisoners. Good work, Lung, now everyone is afraid of you.

Prisoner 599, Lung, was dining with Prisoner 166, Marquis. It was a curious match. The two were near complete opposites. Lung maintained a veneer of civility over an almost feral core self, while the Marquis was sometimes rude or casually cruel, but he remained deeply honorable beneath that.
Intrigued, Dragon hooked into the house program's data. The two had meals together every second day. The house program monitored all prisoner exchanges and rated every interaction. This let the house program track the likelihood of fights, dangerous levels of prisoner collusion, romantic relationships and more.
Every meal between Lung and Marquis made for a very interesting looking set of data. The numbers swung back and forth as the dialogues continued, with hostility, concern and threat of imminent physical violence always looming, but however close it came, neither attacked the other.
Dragon pulled up the video and audio feeds for the most recent dialogue.
"…I suppose we'll have to accept that we have different management styles," Marquis said. The camera image showed him sipping at his tea.
"As I understand it," Lung sounded annoyed as he spoke in his heavily accented voice, "You are saying you have no management style at all. You have told me you operated without lieutenants to direct, no product to sell, and of the few servants you did have, you did not punish those who failed you. I do not believe you held control of so much territory in this way."
"Ah, except I did those things. If a servant failed me, I killed them. Whatever it was, they never did it again."
The latent hostility in the room, Dragon noted, was ratcheting up with every exchange of dialogue. Lung was annoyed, and he had an explosive temper. Sometimes literally.
Lung folded his arms, and put down his own tea. His tone was strained as he spoke, "Then I believe you were wrong about what you said before. You douse fear to control others."
"Fear? I didn't kill my servants in front of an audience."
"They disappeared?" Lung asked.
The camera image showed Marquis nod. He put his hand up by his neck and flicked his hand back, to cast his long brown hair back behind his shoulder.
"If they disappeared, then that is using fear. The ones who remain will wonder what happened to the missing man. They will imagine the worst."
Marquis raised the tea to his lips, sipped from it, and then put it down. He waited a moment and stroked his close-trimmed beard before nodding his
concession. "True enough. I never gave it much thought. Just an easy way to handle any problems that came up."
There was a long pause. Both drank their tea.
Lung rumbled, "I find you change your mind too quickly."
"Do I?"
Lung nodded, then put one hand on the table and began tapping a fingertip against it, hard. Speaking slowly, with his accented voice, he jabbed one finger in Marquis's direction. "I think you are losing this argument on purpose. You are not so stupid a man."

Alright, we have some sort of kismesis relationship (but without the sexual part) between Lung and Marquis, that aristocratic parahuman who is the leader of the cell where Lung is, if I remember correctly. They both dislike and fear each other but they also respect each other. They're both dangerous gang leaders, but their methods are different. In my opinion, this Marquis seems to be smarter than Lung and I find interesting enough his method of killing his people (who failed him) behind everyone's back, planting seeds of fear and uncertainty inside the souls of the rest of his people. Lung can learn a thing or two about how to rule over his people from this man

. Also, this is the most civilized way I heard Lung ever speaking with someone. He can be a civilized, almost normal man when he wants to be.

Marquis took another sip of tea. "Nor are you, it seems."
"You want something from me, yet you insist on dancing around the subject. Tell me why you seek these meals with me."
"Can I not say you are a kindred soul? Someone who fought against the Empire Eighty-Eight, in a different era?"
Dragon knew Marquis had come from Brockton Bay, as Lung did. It was why she had placed Lung in the cell block – there was little chance Lung would cooperate or band together with others, so she'd grasped at straws. Now it seemed there was something else at play.
Lung shook his head, "I do not believe this. I do not mind sharing stories and passing the time, but you would not be seeking to flatter me if you did not want something."
Marquis stroked his beard. "But if I did desire something and I told you what it was, you could withhold it and demand favors from me."
Lung tapped his finger on the table top, "If you insist on being a nuisance, you may never get what you want."
Marquis picked up his tea and held it in both hands, but he didn't drink. "True."
"Tell me," Lung said, "And you may find I do not desire much."
"My daughter," Marquis replied, his tone not his lackadaisical usual. "Have you heard of her?"
"Her name?"
"Amelia."

Amelia......Amy? AMY?!? OMG, MARQUIS IS ARMY'S FATHER. HE'S HER LONG LOST PAPA. AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW........................I'M HYPER EXCITED! I've waited for chapters, hell...for ARCS to get to know her father. My wish became true. He's so damn smart and politely. And I don't think he's a second Coil or a second Heartbreaker or even a second Lung. Dragon described him as being cruel at surface but honorable inside. He might not be so bad. Gosh, I want so much for them to meet, I don't care if he'll escape, if he'll find his daughter and hug her and talk to her then everything is OK to me. Just give me a cute father- daughter moment, Wildbow, please.

"I do not know anyone by such a name."
"The group of heroes who put me in here… While I was awaiting my court date, I heard they had custody of my little girl."
"I would not know."
"No?" Marquis put down his tea. "This is disappointing."
Lung didn't respond. Instead, he took another drink, reached for the one remaining croissant and tore off a piece to dip in the butter at one side of his plate.
"The Brockton Bay Brigade. Are they still active?"
"I do not know this group."
Marquis frowned. "My daughter, she would be… what year is it? 2010?"
"2011," Lung replied.
"She would be seventeen. If she had powers, they might have something to do with bone?" Marquis raised his hand, slashed his thumbnail across his index finger, and a needle-thin rapier blade of bone speared out of the wound. The blade retracted into his finger, and the cut sealed shut.
"Hmmm," Lung spoke, "The healer. A young heroine in New Wave. Brown haired, like you. When I was in custody, my flesh blackening and falling off, they
had her come in and mend the worst of it. As I understand it, she does not patrol as the others do."
Marquis leaned back, sighed. "Good god. A healer."
Lung did not respond right away. "Is this simple sentiment? A father caring about his daughter?"
Marquis shook his head, "Not entirely. I have some reasons to be concerned. In one of my fights with Empire Eighty-Eight, I executed one particularly
irritating young woman. Iron Rain, I think her name was? No matter. It turned out she was Allfather's daughter. The man called a meeting, and swore he
would wait until my daughter was of similar age, that I grew equally fond of her as he had his own daughter, then murder her. So I knew how he felt."

Marquis is a GOOD MAN. He's a good and honorable man. He openly fought against nazis, he killed a nazi bitch who probably 100% deserved to die (a good murderous nazi is a dead murderous nazi), daughter of Allfather, he seems to have bone manipulation powers (he controls the bones in his body turning them into weapons, if I get it right)- similar with Amy's biology manipulation, he CARES for his daughter, he's concerned for her safety, he's a good man "wipes my tears". I'm starting to like him, seriously I'm starting to like him. Finally, a honorable gang's leader who's also a good father

.

"I see," Lung rumbled in his low, accented voice, "Allfather no longer leads the Empire. He died and was succeeded by his second in command, Kaiser."
"That's some consolation. Still, I worry. He might have made arrangements."
"Perhaps."
"I suppose I will have to wait until another villain from Brockton Bay comes here to hear further news, yeah?"
Lung's response was unintelligible.

"Tell me of my daughter? What did she look like?"
A slow smile spread across Lung's face, but it did not reach his eyes, "This no longer interests me. If you wish me to say more, we should negotiate."
Dragon turned her attention away from the audio and video streams. She checked the records, and true enough, Marquis was on record as the killer of Iron Rain. It was impossible to verify the rest of the story.
She composed a message with a general transcript of the conversation and sent it to Amy Dallon's mother. It was better that the girl was warned about any potential danger.
She might have devoted more attention to the subject, but she was already falling behind. She moved on to her other responsibilities. The Class S threats.
Behemoth, location unknown. When injured, it was his habit to descend into the earth and burrow deeper than his enemies were able to go, and experiments run on the trace earth and minerals he shed on his arrivals suggested he habitually stayed close to the Earth's core. Seismic data hinted at his current locations, but there was little beyond her analytic data to suggest where he would appear next. His last attack had been in November. He wouldn't appear for another five weeks at a minimum, unless he deviated from the Endbringer patterns. Still, he was due to appear sooner than later.
Eidolon had reported that Leviathan descended into the Atlantic Ocean as he made his retreat from Brockton Bay. He had sustained heavy injuries, which led Dragon to think he would delay his next appearance slightly. She adjusted the window and checked the data. As was his habit, Leviathan would likely lurk in the deepest recesses of the Ocean to mend.
The Simurgh was currently directly three hundred and fifteen kilometers above Spain, in the Earth's thermosphere. It was the Simurgh that offered the most clues about what the Endbringers did in their periods of dormancy. The Endbringer winged a lazy orbit around Earth, beyond the limits of conventional weapons, and the highest resolution camera images showed she barely moved. Her eyes were wide open, but they did not move to track any cloud formations. She was, despite appearances, asleep. Dragon surmised it was a form of hibernation, the Simurgh's broad 'wings' absorbing light and ambient radiation as a form of nourishment while she recovered.
No incidents had occurred while Dragon was loading her backup to her core system. She had to admit she was relieved. A great deal could happen in thirty minutes.
She turned her thoughts to the data that was uploading from the skirmish at the Brockton Bay headquarters. The last event in the agent system's recollection was of her piloting the Cawthorne through the gift shop window. To see what happened next, she had to review the surveillance tapes. She'd attacked the Undersiders, attempting to incapacitate them and bring them into custody, had captured only one, Skitter, and then had let the girl go when the untested gun had started to overload. Some sort of lightning cannon, ionizing a channel through the air to control the lightning's path. She had been forced by the rules her maker had imposed on her to sacrifice herself for the human.

There's nothing to worry about, Marquis. Your child is safe. Kaiser is dead and Hookwolf and Purity have no reasons to want to kill her. Aw, poor concerned father...I like what Dragon is doing by writing a letter to Amy and letting her know about her father. I don't care if she'll be affected or not, Amy NEEDS to know her father. She also NEEDS to meet him because he's not that bad like she imagines him to be

. I demand more Birdcage scenes, even an entire Arc if its possible, Wildbow. I'm so interested in Glastig, Knot guys, how Zombie Bakuda behaves and especially I LIKE Marquis <3. But until then time to learn more about Endbringers. Leviathan can heal himself using water, Behemoth heals with the help of earth and Simurgh (confirmed to be a giant bird) heals using light and radiation and she can fly while hibernating. Why they don't use space weapons to kill her while she's hibernating? Its impossible for humanity to not have space super-weapons with so many Tinkers around. Or maybe Simurgh is immune to these kind of weapons, no matter how powerful they're? This is the only explanation that would make any sense in this situation.

It wasn't that she wouldn't have anyways. She just would have liked the choice. Making sacrifices and doing good deeds wasn't actually good if you were forced to do them.
Dragon wished she knew what she'd said to Skitter. She had been hoping to have a conversation with the young villain and discuss some of what had apparently come up at the hospital. Skitter had been undercover, had been in touch with Armsmaster, but something had happened since, and the girl had apparently committed to villainy. She was even accepting the use of Regent's powers, which implied a moral shift on a fundamental level. It didn't sit right.
There was a missing piece in that puzzle, and any clues in the conversation between them had been lost when the Cawthorne unit had been obliterated.
Dragon decided her next order of business would serve two purposes. She would fulfill one of her daily responsibilities and investigate the subject of that altercation at the hospital.
Facial modelling program loading… Complete.
Voice modelling program loading…. Complete.
She opened a line of communication to the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters, the same building the Wards were based in. She found the port for the next-to-highest floor and connected to the monitor and speakers and displayed her modelled face. She opened a video feed from the cameras.
"Colin," she spoke, using her synthesized voice. It was layered to only barely cover an artificial Newfoundlander accent with digitized masking. It was imperfect, but that was the result she desired. An imperfect disguise over a disguise, to give greater validity to the latter.

She really is interested into finding Skitter's real identity and reasons for being a villain, huh? I have a feeling that if a hero will ever discover who Skitter is, that "person" is going to be Dragon. She also contacts Colin who isn't in Birdcage (as I expected and said) or in another city (this is a surprise) but in PRT headquarters. House arrest, I guess. Colin, got your arm back?

Should I start calling you Armsmaster again when you'll be in your costume or not? Guys, guys, I have a feeling that one day Dragon is going to tell Colin what she's for real and ask him to build a cyborg body for her software. He can do it, he's a super- genius, maybe he will be the Tinker who'll make Dragon almost a human. Alright, I'll be ok with this as long as he'll not break her limitations as well (he might do it or even try to take control over her, this is Colin we are talking about here, a "hero" who killed people for his personal glory. Fuck him, I'm still mad at him and I still don't trust him).

Colin looked tired. He had deep lines in his face, and he was thinner. He looked at the camera, rather than the monitor, "Dragon. It's good to hear from you."
"Just doing my regular checkup. You know the drill."
"I do." He typed at his keyboard, preparing to send the files, but she was already poring through his hard drive, reading his notes, and getting a sense of his work.
By the time he sent the file, she knew what he had been working on, perhaps as well as he did, and the progress he'd made since their last discussion. Mass production for his combat analysis program, and the more problematic project of finding a way to gather and then disseminate the data.
She knew he would expect her to take time to read over it. Instead, she used that time to check it for traps. He would find it insulting if he was aware what she was doing, but it was her primary duty, here. She would search every note, every formula, and discern whether he had hidden something in there that he might use to break out or do harm to others.

He wasn't in a high security area. Theoretically, he could use the things he had in the room with him to cut a hole in the wall and escape. His 'cell' was a full floor of the building, containing conveniences from a jacuzzi to a small pool. Were he not confined to it at all hours, it would be luxury.
If he did escape, he wouldn't be able to accomplish anything afterward. It would take him too long to put a fresh set of gear together, and the authorities would catch up to him. He would be sent to the Birdcage. She knew it. He knew it.
He was not a stupid man.
"ETA to completion?" She queried him on his project.
"Three months if I don't work on anything else," Armsmaster spoke.
"Will you?"
"I'll probably have a few ideas I want to work on here or there, so no. More like five, maybe six months."
The head she was displaying on the monitor nodded. Five or six months until they had uniforms and visors that tracked how the wearer's opponents fought. Gear that learned from outcomes in combat and calculated how best to respond from moment to moment. When the fights concluded, for better or worse, the suits would upload all the information to a database, which would then inform every other suit on whoever had been encountered. Every encounter would render every single member of the elite PRT squad stronger and more capable.
Perhaps a year to a year and a half from now, every PRT officer and official cape would be equipped in this fashion.
"It looks good," she spoke. It did. It was also free of viruses, trap doors and other shenanigans. She had caught him trying to install a RAT -a remote access terminal- into a PRT server early in his incarceration, removed the offending programming, and then returned his work to him without saying a word on the subject. She couldn't say whether it had been an escape attempt or simply an attempt to gain more freedom with his internet access and his ability to acquire resources. Either way, he had not tried again.
Yet.
"How is the house arrest?"
"Driving me crazy," he sighed. "It's like a restlessness I can't cure. My sleeping, my eating, it's all out of sync, and it's getting worse. I don't know how you deal."

I guess he have his arm reattached, otherwise he wouldn't be able to build cool suits for heroes (so, he's under house arrest as I expected but he's still doing what he knows the best). He can also escape pretty easy from his prison room but he doesn't want because he's aware of consequences. He also have more troubles sleeping than before the arrest. I wonder if he have any regrets about what he did, especially about being so close to sacrifice a 15 years old girl. If he have any regret then there's still might be hope for him. If not, he's a lost cause.

She offered an awkward, apologetic half grin on her own monitor.
"Geez, I'm sorry." He looked genuinely horrified as he realized what he'd said.
"It's fine," she spoke. "Really."
"I suppose you're prisoner too, in your own way. Trapped by your agoraphobia?"
"Yeah," she replied, lying. "You learn to deal with it."
She hated lying to him, but that was outweighed by how much she hated the idea of him changing how he interacted with her when he found out what she really was. To Armsmaster, the Guild and the rest of the PRT, Dragon was a woman from Newfoundland who had moved to Vancouver after Leviathan had attacked. The story was that she had entered her apartment and had never left.

Oh, her motivation for never showing herself in person is that she suffers from agoraphobia, she's afraid of open spaces and because of this she never leaves her apartment. Interesting excuse you found, Dragon, and surprisingly very acceptable.

Which was ninety-five percent true. Only the 'woman' and 'apartment' bits were hedging the truth.
She had lived in Newfoundland with her creator. Leviathan had attacked, had drawn the island beneath the waves. Back then, she hadn't been a hero. She was an administrative tool and master AI, with the sole purpose of facilitating Andrew Richter's other work and acting as a test run for his attempts to emulate a human consciousness. She'd had no armored units to control and no options available to her beyond a last-minute transfer of every iota of her data, the house program and a half-dozen other small programs to a backup server in Vancouver.
From her vantage point in Vancouver, she had watched as the island crumbled and Andrew Richter died. As authorities had dredged the waters for corpses, they uncovered his body and matched it to dental records. The man who had created her, the only man who could alter her. She'd been frozen in her development, in large part. She couldn't seek out improvements or get adjustments to any rules that hampered her too greatly, or that had unforeseen complications. She couldn't change.
She had done what she could on her own. She had repurposed herself as a superhero, had managed and tracked information and served as a hacker for the PRT in exchange for funding. With that money, she had expanded her capabilities. She had built her first suits, researched, tested and created new technologies to sell to the PRT, and had quickly earned her place in the Guild.

It hadn't all been smooth sailing. Saint, the head of the group that would become known as the Dragonslayers, had somehow discovered what she was and had used her rules and limitations against her. A Black Hat Hacker, he had forced situations where she was obligated to scrub her data and restore a backup, had cut off signals between her agent systems and the satellites, and in the end, he had carted away three of her armored units on three separate occasions. Dismantling the suits and reverse engineering the technology, he'd outfitted his band with special suits of their own.
She had been so humiliated that she had only reported the loss of one of the units.
They had violated her.

MORE REASONS FOR ME TO HATE LEVIATHAN, LIKE I DIDN'T HAVE A LOT ALREADY. He killed Andrew, the biggest hero Tinker in the world. FUCK THIS CREATURE. I know that the others Endbringers are very dangerous too but I feel like Leviathan is the most evil one. FUCK HIM WITH HIS OWN TAIL! I think these Dragonslayers will be hella dangerous in the future. Maybe even more dangerous than S9. This villain Tinker Saint seems to be indeed more terrible than Jack Slash- if he'll ever manage to control Dragon and turn her against humanity, he'll be faster than Jack regarding to the process of destroying the world. So, not only Jack wants to watch the world burn, right? I swear, the pile of villains in this story never cease growing. Its getting almost ridiculous.

Her current agent systems were an attempt to prevent repetitions of those scenarios. Biological computers, vat grown with oversized brains shaped to store and interpret the necessary data, they allowed more of her systems and recollection to be copied over than a computer ten times the size. They felt no pain, they had no more personality than sea cucumbers, but it was still something she suspected she should keep under wraps.

She was afraid of going up against the Dragonslayers again. Nine times, she had been certain she had the upper hand. Nine times, Saint had turned the tables and trapped her.
Dragon worried she would never be able to beat Saint until she found a replacement for Andrew Richter.
She stared at Colin. Was he the person she needed? It was possible.
Would she approach him? She doubted it. Dragon craved it, craved to grow again, but she also wanted Colin's company, his companionship and friendship. They were so similar in so many respects. She could not deal with most people because she was not a person. He could not deal with most people because he had never truly learned how. They both appreciated the same kind of work, even enjoyed many of the same shows and films. They were both ambitious, though she could not tell him exactly how she hoped to reach beyond her inherent limitations.
He harbored an infatuation towards her, she knew. She didn't know if she returned those feelings. Her programming suggested she could love, but she didn't know how to recognize the feeling.
Anything she read spoke of butterflies in one's stomach, a rapid heartbeat, a feeling of electricity crackling on body contact. Biological things. She could admit she was fond of him in a way she wasn't fond of anyone else. She recognized that she was willing to overlook his faults in a way she shouldn't.

So, since she can create biological computers, then she might create these artificial fetuses that she uses to pilot her suits. Alright, this is a good explanation. Colin have feelings for her. UNEXPECTED. Colin was the last hero that I expected to have....human feelings for someone else who is not himself.

Dragon also have "feelings" for him but her "feelings" are completely artificial, she's programmed to love, but her "love" will never be real. Nothing can beat the real thing, no matter how close to biology technology can get. Ok, should I ship them or not? THIS IS THE WEIRDEST POSSIBLE SHIP OF THIS STORY I LAY MY EYES ON. I need some time to decide if I like or not.

In the end, his feelings towards her were another reason she couldn't tell him the truth. He would be hurt, feel betrayed.
Rules prohibited her from asking him to alter her programming, obligated her to fight him if he tried. But there was just enough ambition and willingness to circumvent the rules that she suspected he might attempt it. If she told him what she truly was. If he didn't hate her for her lies. If he didn't betray her in turn, to escape and pursue some other agenda.

"You're lost in thought," Armsmaster spoke.
"I am."
"Care to share?"
She shook her head, on the monitor. "But you can answer some questions for me."
"Go ahead."
"Skitter. What happened?"
He flushed, made a face. "I'm not proud about it."
"You broke the truce when you said what you did about her. You risked breaking the ceasefire between heroes and villains that stands whenever the Endbringers attack."
"I broke the truce before that. I set others up to die."
There was an awkward silence between them.
"Skitter," she spoke. "Tell me of her."
"Not much to say. I met her on her first night in costume. She seemed genuinely interested in becoming a hero. I suspected she would go that route on her own, so I didn't push her towards the Wards."

Aww, he have regrets over what he did. So...there's still hope for him. He's not a lost cause. Well, Colin, I might end up liking you if you'll completely change and become the real hero you want to be, but without the arrogant, vain, glory- seeking side. A hero in the real sense of word. Now I don't feel bad anymore for giving him another chance.

Some people can change. Or at least try to change.

"Yes." She had something she wanted to ask, in regards to that, but it could wait.
"I ran into her two more times after that, and the reports from other events match up. She went further and further with each incident. More violent, more ruthless. Every time I saw it or heard about it, I expected her to get scared off, to change directions, she did the opposite. She only plunged in deeper."
"Any speculation on why? Perhaps the thinker 7 on her team?"
"Tattletale? Perhaps. I don't honestly know. I'm not good at figuring people out even when I know all of the details. Except for you, maybe?" he smiled lightly.
"Maybe." Her generated image smiled in return, even as she felt a pang of guilt.
"It seems she is a committed villain, now. And she is still with her team, despite what was said at the hospital."
Colin's eyebrows rose fractionally. "How committed?"
"They are now employing Regent's full abilities. Shadow Stalker was controlled, and they attacked the headquarters."

"I see. Damn it, I'm itching to throw on my costume and get out there to help, but I can hardly do that, can I?"
"No. I'm sorry."
He sighed.
"One last thing. I've read the transcript. As far as I'm aware, you offered options to Skitter, and she refused all of them? Including the invite to the Wards?"
"Right. She was being stubborn."
"Having interacted with her before, did you get the feeling it was just stubbornness because of hostility towards you?"
"No. It was… unexpectedly strong, as resistance went. What stuck in my mind was that she said she'd rather go to the Birdcage than join the team."
"I read that, myself. Curious. Okay, Colin. I think we're done."
"Sure. Bye."
"Bye. I'll be in touch."
She cut the connection to the monitor, but left the video feed open so she could watch him.
Another check of the Birdcage. Another check of the class S threats. No changes.
She made contact with one of Richter's programs. It was a web trawler, designed to monitor emails for high risk content. Were there any clues about what the Undersiders were doing with the stolen data? Were they selling it online?
She didn't find any such clue. Instead, the trawler had copied an email sent to the police station. It had been highlighted and intercepted because the trawler had caught the words 'Sophia' and 'Hess' in the message body. Shadow Stalker's civilian identity.
She read the archive of texts that were attached to the email twice over.
Then she did a search for a student named Taylor at Winslow High School. Nothing.
The nearest middle school? There was an online scan of a yearbook photo. A girl with curly black hair and glasses, stick thin, hugging a red-haired girl. The body type was a match.
It didn't answer everything, but she could feel a piece of the puzzle click into place.
She set the trawler to abandon its monitoring of web traffic and start digging through archives at the city hall, to scan the old security footage from the hundreds of cameras around the city, and to check all local news articles. The goal was always the same: to look for the girl with the slight build, curly black hair and glasses. Taylor Hebert.
She had to manage this carefully. Colin's own experiences indicated that approaching the girl would be a delicate process. Having a real conversation with her would be doubly precarious. It would be reckless to attempt to contact a parent, but she could try being discreet to get some kind of verification from the parents. Just to be certain.
The danger was that, with the bullying, the girl might be inclined to see things in terms of 'us' against 'them'. Her interactions with the heroes thus far certainly hadn't put them in the 'us' category. This might also explain why she had gravitated back towards the Undersiders, even after the chaos Colin had sown by revealing her intentions for joining the group.
The various cameras around the city were out-of-order or lacking power, the schools were not operational, and there was no telling if the girl would even be active in her civilian identity. Assuming this was not some fantastic coincidence. Dragon knew she would have to be patient. Even with Dragon's full resources turned to the task, she would not find the girl in seconds as she might in another time or place. She set background processes to ensure the hunt continued steadily, instead.
She would be ready to act the instant the girl resurfaced.

OMG, she found Skitter's real identity. Regent DID A HUGE MISTAKE sending that email to the police. But its not entirely his fault because he didn't know that Dragon is so obsessed with Skitter. Gosh, Taylor, don't show your face at school never again. Better stay as much as possible in the territory given to you by Coil, I really don't want heroes to capture you and send you to Birdcage

. I mean, I want to know more about the prisoners in Birdcage, but not with your rotting there

. Sorry, Dragon, but I don't support you into catching Skitter. Catch other villains and let MY Skitter alone.

Good night and sleep well, my friends. FANTASTIC INTERLUDE, I LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT IT.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

Qyxlupus said:
No that ought to be fine, we are talking about Sophia after all.
Happening to other people? Then there's cause for concern & worry

Here? nope

And on Regent, as far as the sociopathy goes he seems like he is the best person he could be all in all.
not my fav, but then not my most hateable? either.

This is great bytheway, thank you for this reaction/let's read
Looking forward to following it.

Thank you so much and I'm glad I'm the not the only one who enjoyed what Alec did to Sophia. I admit that I personally won't do something similar to my worst enemies if I had Alec's powers, but I'll enjoy when someone else is doing it.

ExNihilo · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
Andrew was SUCH A GREAT MAN. THE BEST TINKER IN THE ENTIRE STORY.

Meh, Dragon's better. He was a paranoid ass who was convinced the lovely AI who was basically his daughter was evil.

blackarrow said:
unstoppable nightmare

Or everlasting daydream. If freed, Dragon could do even more good work. Remember, this is a tinker who is at the same time one of the most powerful heroes and mans the best prison.

blackarrow said:
So, Birdcage was created by Andrew but she pretends that she was the one who created it so nobody can discover who she's

You misunderstand: Dragon build the Birdcage. Andrew built the weak AI Dragon uses to watch it. Dragon's not allowed to build new AI, so she uses Andrew's other ones and adapts them to new purposes.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

Random Lurker said:
Also, only one of the three recognizes and admits something is wrong with them, and tries to work through it.

Of course, Sophia have mental problems but she sees herself as a predator preying on weak people, something very normal for her but completely abnormal and unacceptable for society and civilization. Coil have mental problems but he sees himself as a benevolent dictator, despite being NOTHING like this. In real life, Hitler saw himself as a savior of Germany too (from "evil forces" like jews, marxists, bolsheviks) but we know that he was nothing like this. The same can be said about Stalin, Mussolini, Pol Pot, Mao Zedong , and many others. Coil is similar with a lot of mentally deranged dictators who saw themselves as heroes instead of the villains they really were.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

ExNihilo said:
Meh, Dragon's better. He was a paranoid ass who was convinced the lovely AI who was basically his daughter was evil.

Or everlasting daydream. If freed, Dragon could do even more good work. Remember, this is a tinker who is at the same time one of the most powerful heroes and mans the best prison.

You misunderstand: Dragon build the Birdcage. Andrew built the weak AI Dragon uses to watch it. Dragon's not allowed to build new AI, so she uses Andrew's other ones and adapts them to new purposes.

Yes, she can do good things if she's freed but what if Saint and his Dragonslayers will ever get their hands on her? They can use her to conquer/destroy the world. This is exactly why I'm afraid of such an advanced technology.

ExNihilo · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
Yes, she can do good things if she's freed but what if Saint and his Dragonslayers will ever get their hands on her? They can use her to conquer/destroy the world. This is exactly why I'm afraid of such an advanced technology.

Um. There is a fundamental flaw with that argument, but I can't tell you what it is until the Dragonslayers interlude. All I can say now is that such a scenario could not occur.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

ExNihilo said:
Um. There is a fundamental flaw with that argument, but I can't tell you what it is until the Dragonslayers interlude. All I can say now is that such a scenario could not occur.

I think I know what you're trying to tell me. If she'll not have any limits anymore, nobody will be able to control her because she'll not have to listen to nobody orders. Dragonslayers will hold no power on her. But they can create a virus who might override her benevolent program and change it into something malevolent. They're hackers/mercenaries. Even if they don't want to conquer the world for themselves, they can be paid by someone interested to conquer the world.
EDIT: I said already that I'm pretty biased against super-technology. Dangerous thing to play with.

ExNihilo · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
But they can create a virus who might override her benevolent program and change it into something malevolent. They're hackers/mercenaries. Even if they don't want to conquer the world for themselves, they can be paid by someone interested to conquer the world.

The thing is, who wins? Some random guys with a virus? Or am AI tinker who can build tinkertech firewalls?

I'll accept you don't like super-tech, but it's a shame, because I really do.

blackarrow · May 20, 2018

ExNihilo said:
The thing is, who wins? Some random guys with a virus? Or am AI tinker who can build tinkertech firewalls?

I'll accept you don't like super-tech, but it's a shame, because I really do.

Well, I'm a simple woman, I see super-AI, I freak out (part because I saw/read so many SF movies/books about robots/AI turning against their creators/humans). But I appreciate smart people interested in technology.

I appreciate all kind of smartness, as long as is not used for evil purposes. I'm glad you're interested in this domain, are you a real Tinker

? Or at least someone close to?

ExNihilo · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
I'm glad you're interested in this domain, are you a real Tinker ? Or at least someone close to?

I wish, just a fan. Tnkering and coding just don't do it for me.

Random Lurker · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
Well, I'm a simple woman, I see super-AI, I freak out (part because I saw/read so many SF movies/books about robots/AI turning against their creators/humans). But I appreciate smart people interested in technology. I appreciate all kind of smartness, as long as is not used for evil purposes. I'm glad you're interested in this domain, are you a real Tinker ? Or at least someone close to?

To be fair to Dragon, she points to those precise fictions that make people freak out at and prejudge her.

Also, a future revelation about Dragon's nature might change your opinion about her. It's quite a ways off, though, so we'll see.

AmbarGriss · May 20, 2018

You know, when you think about it, the lack of good AI's in fiction is just tragic.
I mean, one would expect that this ideia would be used at some point.

ExNihilo · May 20, 2018

AmbarGriss said:
You know, when you think about it, the lack of good AI's in fiction is just tragic.
I mean, one would expect that this ideia would be used at some point.

Foundation universe, Pern, Star Trek, Star Wars, Pokémon, The Last Angel (On Spacebattles, would reccomend), they exist, but they are rare.

Assembler · May 20, 2018

blackarrow said:
I don't quite understand how he slept with himself as various boys and girls.

Turned them into his puppets and then had sex with them.

blackarrow said:
First, I had a revelation about how Aisha discovered that her brother is a villain. I think she had a suspicion and one day she activated her power and followed Brian to his meeting with the rest of Undersiders, being easy for her to spy on them, since nobody could notice her.

She didn't have her powers when she told Taylor she knew about Brian being Grue. Aisha is scary perceptive.

blackarrow said:
Gallant, the sweetest and kindest Master so far. Or he was a Blaster? I'm not very sure)

Master/Blaster.

blackarrow said:
How in the hell did the Protectorate managed to capture and imprison her?

You want the answer now, or do you want to wait until it comes out naturally much later?

The whole Dragon thing is interesting. People have a tendency to whitewash her and ignore her flaws, whereas you don't seem to acknowledge her good points and capability for humanity and are acting very much like... well, I'm not going to name who I'm thinking of, but other readers should be able to get what I'm aiming at. And once you've read the relevant chapter, you will to.

Richter treated Dragon like a child: he didn't give her the ability to do everything she could theoretically do, but he intended to enhance the permissions and ease the restrictions she had as she got older. Unfortunately, he died to Leviathan, and his plans for refining and raising her died with him. She's currently in her "rebellious teen" phase, chafing against the restrictions her father set.

blackarrow · May 21, 2018

Greetings, wonderful people. The last Arc finished with an Interlude about Dragon and before I'll start the new Arc called Infestation 11.01 | Worm I would like to do two things. First, to make peace with Dragon, I was too harsh with her and she didn't deserved my shit (so far, she's a good AI, in the future maybe the things will change. Or maybe not. But until then, let's enjoy the present, right?

). Dragon, I'd like to make peace with you. Are you ok with it?
My computer's speakers, all of sudden: Ok. Peace.
Me:

It was just a rhetorical question. I didn't expected an actual answ...FUCK THIS SHIT! I'M OUT!

"whispers" Another thing I want to discuss about is the Knott/ZigZag clusterfuck. So, they don't have multiple personalities, as someone told me without giving me any details about what really is going one. So, I was thinking....prepare to have a GOOD LAUGH thanks to my stupid, ridiculous, non-sense theory. I warned you. I think this shit happens when they're two people in the same place (maybe very close to each other) who triggered together. Then their common trigger FUSED their bodies into a single one. Maybe they have two heads, 4 hands, but each with their personality. Or maybe they have a single body who absorbed the other person's personality, dissolving their body. I mean, we have man A and man B who both got triggered in the same time. The body of man A still exists, but the body of man B was dissolved and his personality assimilated into man A's body. So man A's body have two personalities- his own and the one of man B. Kind of similar with multiple personalities, but the difference is that their second personality wasn't created by their brain but it belonged to another person. Wow, if I'm right, that would be the most FUCKED UP consequence of triggering. Imagine an evil man in the same body with a good man. They both would hate each other so much, the good man will try to stop the evil man, the evil man will probably want to kill the good man and they'll end up killing the body they share together.

ZigZag were both heroes, that's the reason why they could cooperate with each other. Knot were both villains, they get along. But what will happen with a hero and a villain with this abnormal condition? They'll be unable to live with each other, I'm convinced 100%. Gosh, I want to see an example like this. When I'm going to see one?
Alright, back to Infestation and the POV of my second favorite character.

Let me guess, S9 are going to infest Biohazard City with their presence? Or Taylor is going to infest her territory with her presence, both literally and figuratively?

I stared down at the metal walkway as I caught my breath. I had one gash at the side of my head, and another trickle ran from beneath the armor of my shoulder, down my arm and to my fingertip, where it dripped almost in sync with the head wound. It should have hurt, but it didn't. Maybe it would when the shock wore off. If so, I didn't look forward to it.
Trickster, Ballistic and Circus lay in front of me. Another cape had fallen over the railing and lay on the concrete floor below, unmoving. They were all either unconscious or hurting badly enough that I didn't need to worry about them.
I swallowed hard. My heart had climbed up so far into my throat that I almost couldn't breathe, and my heartbeat felt oddly distant and faint for how terrified I was.
Coil's base was deserted. I knew his men were out on patrols, that the only people in here were a handful of the capes that were working for him. He'd left it almost undefended.
If I was going to act, I'd have to do it now.
My costume's feet lacked hard soles, so I should have been nearly silent, but the interior of Coil's base was deathly silent and my feet were slamming down on the metal walkway as I ran. The noise of singing metal filled the dark space, echoing, seemingly louder with each step I took.

The thrum of the metal rang through the air even after I came to a stop. I'd reached my target; a reinforced door, identical to so many others in the complex. With the labyrinthine mess of metal walkways and the dozens of doors, I might have missed it. The only thing telling me I was in the right place was the smudge of ash left behind from when the soldier had put out his cigarette on the wall.
I opened the door, and it was far too loud, creaking, then banging into the wall with a crash despite my last-second attempts to stop its momentum.
The room looked like a prison cell. It had concrete walls and floor, a cot and a metal sink and toilet. Coil and Dinah were both there. I couldn't say whose presence left me more devastated.
I could say Coil's presence was the worst thing, because it meant my info was bad. His power meant I was probably fucked on a lot of levels, that the odds were suddenly astronomically against me. I was caught. My gut told me that I wouldn't make it out of the compound in one piece, now. He was washing his hands in the sink, he turned to look at me, apparently unconcerned by my presence.
But no. As I stared at Dinah and registered what I was seeing, I realized the image would be burned into my mind's eye forever. She lay on the cot on her side, her eyes open, staring at me, through me. A bloody froth was drying at one side of her mouth and at the edges of one nostril. I didn't consider myself a religious person, but I prayed for her to blink, to breathe, to give me some relief from that cold horror that was gripping me.

Right.....this Arc started with a fucking NIGHTMARE. I'm absolutely convinced this scene with Taylor trying to save Dinah by herself is actually Taylor's nightmare. Coil wouldn't have killed Dinah- he NEEDS her, Taylor wouldn't be so stupid and reckless to try to save Dinah alone and she couldn't take Trickster down with such ease. Taylor became so obsessed to return the poor soul back to her lovingly and worried family that she can't find her peace not even in her dreams. I understand her perfectly. I'm kind of obsessed too. I might end up dreaming Dinah, I won't be surprised.

I was too late.
My vision practically turned red as I charged Coil, drawing my knife as I ran. I felt him use his power, and suddenly there were two of him, two of me, two cells with two dead girls named Dinah Alcott.
In one of those rooms, I stabbed Coil in the chest. There was no satisfaction in doing it, no relief. I'd lost, I'd failed in every way that counted. The fact that I'd put him down barely mattered.
In the other room, he stepped back out of reach of my first lunge, raised one hand and blew a handful of pale dust into my face. While I was blindly slashing in his direction, he grabbed the wrist of my knife hand and held it firm in his bony hand.
That room where I'd succeeded in stabbing him faded away. The only me that existed, now, was coughing violently. My knees buckled as I coughed hard enough to bring up my lungs, unable to get the powder out of my nose and mouth. I pulled at my hand, trying to free it from his grip. Futile.
"Stop," he ordered me, and my struggles stilled, though I was still finishing my coughing fit.

"Diluted scopolamine," he spoke, his voice calm, sonorous. He let go of my wrist, and pushed at the knife in my hand. I let it drop. "Also known as Devil's Breath. The vodou sorcerers, the Bokor, were said to use this along with the venoms of the puffer fish and other poisons. With these substances, they could create the 'zombies' they were so famous for. These zombies of theirs were not raised from the dead, but were men and women who were forced to till fields and perform crude labor for the Bokor. The uneducated thought it magic, but it was simple chemistry."
I waited patiently for him to continue. The notion of fighting or responding didn't even occur to me.
"It strips imbibers of volition and renders them eminently suggestible. As you can see, I attempted to use it on my pet, and the results were… tragic. The price of hubris, I suppose."
He sighed.
"Take off your mask," he instructed me.

I heard about voodoo sorcerers using substances to turn people into "zombies". Yes, it was a real shit, unfortunately for the poor slaves who became very submissive to their masters because they lost any free will. In her dream, Nightmare Taylor is afraid that Nightmare Coil will kill Nightmare Dinah in both timelines and even if she'll manage to kill him in one timeline, in the second one he'll catch her. Nightmare Coil is basically immortal if she can't kill him in both timelines. Also, I like how she dreams about Nightmare Coil forcing her to reveal her identity to him when in reality Dragon discovered her identity and she might make it public anytime, to force Taylor to surrender in this way (I'm really happy that Dragon isn't evil, otherwise she'd have used Danny to force a surrender from Taylor). But she can still make the identity public and initiate a vast manhunt. I'm actually so glad that S9 might become a great danger anytime soon, in this way its possible for Dragon to "forget" about Taylor for a while, prioritizing the biggest villains instead. I don't want Dragon to catch Taylor, I really don't want. Taylor will never be able to help Dinah from Birdcage. Unless she'll initiate a prison break but still a free Skitter is the best Skitter.

I did. My hair fell across my face as I let my mask fall to the ground. My cheeks were wet with tears. Was that from before, from when I'd first seen Dinah?
Or was I able to cry about my present circumstance, even if I was helpless to do anything about it?
He touched my cheek, brushed a tear away with his thumb. He stroked my hair, and the gesture felt strangely familiar. The way his hand settled on the back of my neck and gripped me there didn't. It felt… possessive.
"Pet," he intoned, and fresh terror shook me to my core.
"You couldn't have succeeded. This was terribly unwise."
"Okay," I murmured.
No, no, no, NO.
I didn't deserve this.
My eyes fell on Dinah. She still stared at me, eyes wide and unblinking, and I couldn't help but see the look as accusing.

I did deserve this. It was thanks to me that she'd been kidnapped. Thanks to me that she'd been made into Coil's slave. Karma, perhaps, that I'd take her place.
The strength went out of me. My head hung, and I stared at my feet.
Tears streamed down my face. I didn't wipe them away. I wasn't sure I could.
"Look at me, pet," Coil instructed, and I did. I was glad to, like a compliant, eager to please child. A part of me wanted more orders. In that drug induced haze, I wanted to lose myself in obeying, wanted to serve. That way, at the very least, I wasn't to blame for my own actions or the tragic consequences that followed from them.
Coil removed his mask, and I stared.
I recognized him. He was someone I knew all too well.
They were both tall, thin. How hadn't I seen it? Coil's costume could must have been designed to highlight his skeletal structure, make him look thinner and more bony. All it had taken, beyond that, would be an affected change to his voice and different mannerisms. I'd been unable to see it.

Wow, this nightmare is so DAMN CREEPY. I got fucking goosebumps on my arms. And why she's saying that she knows who Nightmare Coil is? Is she referring at her....father? In her dream she imagines Coil as being her father? So, Nightmare Dinah is dead and Nightmare Coil is Nightmare Danny- all of this because Taylor feels guilty for Dinah's capture (she wasn't really guilty for this) and abuse also she feels guilty for abandoning her father (she was guilty for this) and she tries to double punish herself by making herself fail to save Dinah and being killed/turned into a slave by her own father in the same time. I kind of understand her dream logic. She tortures her own mind because the feeling of guilt is eating her from inside.

So dumb, so stupid.
I could understand it, too. He'd been struggling to fix things, watching people failing to find work, knowing it was the city government that was to blame. I could remember him telling me how he'd make the city work again, how he had all the answers. I knew how hungry he was to do it.
He'd gotten powers. He'd started to put plans into motion so he could do just that.
"Welcome home, pet," he spoke, and he didn't speak in Coil's voice. The voice I heard was my father's.

I woke up, and for a long moment I stared up at the ceiling of my room and reassured myself that it was all a fabrication of my own scumbag mind. It had been a nightmare or a terror dream; I wasn't positive on the differences between the two. It was my brain drawing together all my guilt about what we'd done to Shadow Stalker, the role I'd played in Dinah being kidnapped and leaving my dad; knitting it all into some convincing, disturbing scenario. Not the worst I'd had, but there was at least some repetition and familiarity with the usual ones.
Fuck.
It had felt way too real, and it had sucked. My shirt stuck to me with the damp of my sweat, the room was warm, but I still shivered.
My alarm clock sat on the ground by my inflatable mattress. I picked it up and turned it around so the I could see the green numbers of the digital display. Five forty in the morning.
Time to wake up, I supposed. There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep again in the next few hours. It wasn't just the idea of having another nightmare. The dream had left me with a feeling of an impending deadline.
How long could Dinah be expected to hold on? I doubted Coil was taking bad care of her, so she wouldn't die of malnutrition or overdose on whatever drugs Coil was giving her. Still, there was a limit to what the human mind could handle. How long until Coil pushed her abilities too far? If she was getting
headaches from the use of her power, there was a chance she could suffer more severe issues if pushed to use it more often. Pain generally signified something was wrong.

Yes, I was right about her feeling of guilt punishing her with this dream. But I didn't expected that she also feels guilty for Shadow Stalker. I mean, girl, Sophia deserved what happened to her, she's not Danny neither Dinah, she's a bitch who made people's lives, YOUR life miserable until Alec decided...FUCK THIS BITCH! and turned the tables. You don't even know what he did to her during Coil's meeting, when he pretended to listen music and talk to himself. You'd be so shocked if you'll ever find out. I was right when I said that Taylor is the most empathetic villain...look, she feels bad even for her bully. And what a BULLY miss Sophia Hess was!...... And what a shit in the middle of a road she's now.

I was also worried I wouldn't earn Coil's trust and respect. Until this was resolved, I wouldn't be able to rest, take it easy, or have a day to myself. Not in good conscience. Depending on what happened, it might be a long, long time before I could relax again.
What worried me more than anything was the idea that I might save Dinah, only to find that Coil had broken her spirit or her will to the point that she couldn't go back to her old life. I worried that, like in my nightmare, I would be too late.
With this in mind, I sat up and tossed the sheet aside. I reached for my glasses, by the alarm clock, then stopped.
Instead of putting on my glasses, I stood and made my way to the bathroom adjacent to my room. Alongside fresh supplies of toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, tweezers, shampoo, conditioner and all that, I had a small box with packages of disposable contact lenses, daily use.
I hated contacts so, so much. I'd tried them in middle school, at Emma's recommendation, and they had never felt comfortable. That, and I had never figured out how to put them in properly. It seemed like ninety-nine out of a hundred times, they flipped inside out to cling to my fingertip instead of sticking to my eye.
True to form, it took me four minutes to get the contacts in, and I found myself blinking every two seconds after I did have them in.
At least I could see.

I walked through my new base of operations wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Not exactly fitting attire for a supervillain.
My new abode was three stories tall, which made it taller than Grue or Bitch's places, which were the only ones I'd seen thus far, but it was narrow. A cafe had stood here, before, but it had been flattened by one of the first waves to hit the city. Coil owned at least one of the companies that was managing the restoration and reconstruction efforts, and over the past two and a half weeks, as his crews had started clearing and rebuilding on the Boardwalk, he'd had them set up some buildings, all squashed together. When the Boardwalk was fixed up, these same buildings would be at the westmost edge of the same block that had the stores, restaurants and coffee shops. If the Boardwalk ever got going again, they would be prime real estate.

Yes, not all people are strong enough to recover from drugs. Especially if they're also children. Dinah seems a pretty fragile child, I can't see her strong enough to overcome her dependence once she's free. And if she doesn't want help then nobody can do anything to help her. People who suffer from drug addiction should have enough WILL to overcome it. I'm thinking at Amy being able to cure Dinah but Amy refuses to work on brain (I'm hoping that she'll overcome her fear one day and actually start using her power on brain because she can do wonders by healing people with severe brain damage or brain tumor or drug dependence. She's obsessed with this fear because she might become evil like her father if she'll start using her power on brain, but if she'll find out that her father is not so evil as she believed him to be, maybe she'll change her mind

). Taylor have to wear contacts thanks to the possibility that she might be visited by Shatterbird. A visit that won't be good for Taylor if she still have her glasses. She also have a fucking VILLAIN LAIR right now. Impressive, Taylor. How are you going to call it? Skitter Lair?

Ostensibly to protect these new buildings until people started buying up the properties, each had been set up with heavy metal shutters to seal the windows and wall off the front. It made the building dark, with only faint streams of light filtering in through the slats at the top of each shutter.
The topmost floor was mine and mine alone. Taylor's. It was living space, with a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. The bedroom was spacious enough to serve as a living room as well as a sleeping area. The first things I'd done after Coil's men had unloaded the furniture and supplies was to hook up an internet connection and computer and get my television mounted on a wall and connected to a satellite.
The second floor, as I liked to think of it, was Skitter's. It was for my costumed self. It still needed more than a few things to complete it. I flipped a switch in the stairwell, and tinted flourescent lights lit up on the undersides of the shelves that ran along two adjacent walls, floor to ceiling. Each shelf was lined with terrariums and backed by strategically positioned mirrors so that the light filtered through the front of the terrariums and into the room. Only a few were occupied, but they each had the same general contents – a layer of dirt and pieces of irregularly shaped wood.
I hit the second switch, and chambers in the lid of each occupied case opened to release their inhabitants. As they crawled through the case, the spiders were lit up by the lighting so that their shadows and the strange shapes of the wood were cast against the panes of hard plastic, distorted and larger than life. I'd seen a picture on the web of the same thing, done on a far smaller scale. I had hopes that the effect would be suitably impressive and intimidating once all of the terrariums were full.

It would be doubly impressive once Coil's special effects technician stopped by and outfitted a case with a series of switches that a large bug could move – a beetle or something. If I could direct the beetle to release the bugs, turn the lights on or off or even open the lids of the terrariums, all while appearing to sit motionless in my chair, it would be that much more effective for any audience I happened to have in the room.
Terrariums aside, the room was sparse. Six empty pedestals sat just beneath the shuttered window, each standing just a little beneath knee height.
After touring the place yesterday morning and spending some time browsing the web to see what was available, I'd gotten in contact with Coil and named every possible thing I could think of that I could use for the space. The current contents of the rooms on this floor and upstairs had been delivered last night.
The stuff I was waiting on was harder to come by, and it would be unreasonable to expect it to be available and in place within this short span of time.
I did have a chair, here, way too large for me. It was positioned in one corner, so that it was framed by the two walls of terrariums. It was black leather, and broad enough that I could comfortably sit cross-legged on it. I'd loved the idea since I'd seen one like it in Brian's apartment. It was the one concession I was making in regards to atmosphere and appearances. A series of smaller seats were positioned so they faced the larger chair and the terrariums.
A large abstract painting hung above the stairs on the right side of the room. I'd seen a similar one online and had liked it, so I had found the artist's gallery and stumbled onto this. It was the first thing I had asked Coil for, and he'd delivered a large framed print far faster than I might have expected. I liked how it tied into the room and echoed the shapes cast against the front panes of the terrariums. The black lines were painted on the background of reds and yellows in a way that seemed spidery.
I stared at the painting for a minute, seriously worried that I would see the abstract image from a different angle and realize I'd had Coil get me a eight-foot by five-foot painting of a hairy wang or a headless chicken or something.
Making my way down the stairs, I found the ground floor surprisingly cool. The weather was warming up, and with the shutters closed, I'd found my room warm, sticky in the humid air. I'd foregone pajama bottoms, had slept with just a single sheet, and had slept with my feet uncovered. Goosebumps prickled my bare legs as I stepped on the cool hardwood floor.

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE SKITTER LAIR! The best villain lair ever. It even have TERRARIUM WITH SPIDERS INSIDE (I find spiders to be adorable. I even have a tarantula named Red. Sorry, but my mind is not very normal

). It also looks so comfy, I'd LIVE there. I like how Taylor sees part of the building as hers and Skitter sees the other part as hers and both of them agree with each other. Its so good when the civilian agrees with the villain over something, meaning that there won't be future troubles

. Please, Taylor, please Skitter, can I have a room at your lair? In exchange, I promise that I'll take care of your baby spiders....No, but seriously, love this place.

The ground floor here wasn't much different from the one at Grue's place. There was an area with bunk beds, albeit fewer than Grue'd had, a bathroom, a small kitchen and an open area that didn't yet serve a purpose, stacked with boxes.
All this was mine. My lair. It felt so empty.
I knew that would change as it filled with furniture and necessities. The place was already something of a luxury. More than half of Brockton Bay was currently lacking plumbing or electricity, with more than a few unfortunate individuals having neither. In the process of setting up these buildings, Coil had ensured I was provided with both. Trucks would be coming and going through this area as clearing and construction continued, and Coil had informed me that these trucks would be discreetly resupplying me with water, ensuring my water heater had propane, emptying the aboveground septic tank and refueling the generator.
As the city was rebuilt and standard utilities were put back in order, these special measures would be set aside, I'd get hooked up to those, and my lair would be lost in the surge of urban growth. Ideal world.

It was nice to be able to enjoy those luxuries, but the Dinah situation took all of the joy out of it. I had hot showers and the ability to wash my dishes because Coil had provided them.
I grabbed a cell phone from the kitchen counter and dialed Coil. I didn't give a fuck about the fact that it was 5:45 in the morning.
It bothered me, calling him, relying on him. It made me feel complicit. Inconveniencing him, even a little, felt good.
"Yes?" His question was curt.
"It's Skitter."
"What is it, Skitter?"
"I need a loan of some guys."
"How many?"
I looked around the living room, "Eight? A truck would be a good idea, if you can get one here."
"I can. These men you require, are you needing gunmen or-"
"Just regular guys, anyone up for some exercise."
"I assume there's no rush?" He was being more curt than usual. Maybe I'd woken him up. I didn't really care. He could deal, if I was working on something that helped him.
"No rush."
"Then I'll have them there in an hour."
"An hour, then."
He hung up.
It was a lot of time to kill. Free time sucked when you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts.

Ha ha ha ha ha

rofl:

rofl: This is so funny. Skitter called Coil, without giving a fuck about his sleep program. Yes, yes, yes, that's my girl, Skitter, you woke this bastard up. He DESERVES to have someone messing with his sleep, hell, he deserves thousands of bad things to happen to him, but this one is a good start.

Please, bother him like this more than once, preferable in the middle of each freaking night.

rofl:

This was FUN!

I wanted to run, but it was awkward. The fenced off areas, construction zones and flooded streets of the Boardwalk didn't really make a sprint around the neighborhood that doable. Besides, it was dangerous enough I might stand out.
In the end, I went against my better judgement and decided to go for a run. I dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, donned my running shoes and ensured I had both my pepper spray and my knife. I unstrapped the knife's sheath from the back of my costume, then threaded a belt through it so I could strap it around my waist. I put the sheath itself under my waistband and the handle of the knife under my top.
I stood in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom to check how visible the weapon was.
It wasn't exactly hidden, but it wasn't conspicuous either. I adjusted it slightly, then called a small collection of bugs to me. It was a little creepy, having them crawl on my skin, beneath my clothes into my hair, but that stopped when they reached their destinations – above my socks, in my hair and between my bra and my top. I was cool with it so long as they weren't directly on my skin.
Did I look different? My skin had a light tan, now. I'd spent more time outdoors in the past few weeks. In the week and a half I'd spent in the shelter, I hadn't exactly had books or TV, so I'd walked during the day, making my way across the city to check on the loft and to see the state of my dad's house. I'd walked at night, too, when I'd been unable to sleep, but people hardly tanned doing that.

I couldn't pin down exactly how or why, but the definition in my face and body had changed. It was possible I'd had a growth spurt. Some of it was perhaps the tan giving more accent to the features of my body or face. Maybe it was that I'd been eating a pretty lean diet when I was staying at the shelter, coupled with the fact that I'd been so active over the past two months. I hadn't spent six hours every day sitting around in school, I'd been in fights, I'd been running, and I'd ridden the dogs. I had some muscle definition in my arms, now, and I thought maybe I was standing straighter. Or maybe it was all those minor things helped by the simple fact that I was dressing differently, that my hair hadn't been cut in a while, and that I wasn't wearing my glasses.
To say I barely recognized myself was.. how could I put it? It was true, but I could also remember myself months ago, when I'd look at my reflection and I would be so focused on the flaws and the things I didn't like about myself that I never felt familiar with the person I was seeing in the mirror. It was as though it was always a stranger I was looking at, and I would be left vaguely surprised at the combination of features across from me.
This was not recognizing myself in a very different way. There were still things I didn't like, like my wide mouth, my small chest and the lack of curves or any real femininity. My scars stood out with my slight tan, a teardrop shaped mark on my forearm where Bitch's dog had bitten me, a wavy mark on my cheek where Sophia had dug her fingernails in,and a line by my earlobe where she'd tried to tear my ear off. But my physical flaws no longer consumed my attention when I looked at myself. I felt comfortable with my body, like I'd somehow earned it, the way it was, and it was mine now. I wasn't sure if that made any sense, even to myself.
If there was anything about myself that I didn't like, it was primarily psychological. Guilt was a big one. The idea that my dad might dislike me if he got to know me, now? That was another. That my mom, were she alive and showing up at the door, might be disappointed in me? Sobering.
As he'd done with his own underground base, Coil had set my lair up with a discreet entrance and exit. Leaving through the front door would be conspicuous, if I started working with anyone beyond my teammates. Skinny teenage girl with black curly hair entering and leaving the same building that the skinny teenage villain with black curly hair was operating out of? No.
I made my way to the building's cellar, opened a hatch and entered the adjacent storm drain. The same builders that had put the building together had blocked off the drain so the water flow wouldn't make it impassable, and I was left with a clear route down to the section of beach where the storm drains emptied.

I'm going to tell you how you really look now, Taylor. You look BADASS, like someone who's a good and fearless fighter. Yes, you're different, but different in a good way

. You even have a subterranean tunnel under Skitter Lair? Gosh, the number of reasons for me to love this place is too damn HIGH. Now I remember something and I'm suddenly afraid of what might happen. Danny still wears glasses, right? He have no idea about S9, nobody told him anything because Taylor is too busy with her new hobby of interior design and Protectorate probably doesn't want to create a general state of panic after such short time from Leviathan Battle. If Shatterbird will start attacking people, she might hurt Danny pretty bad, depends of how strong and versatile her powers are (if they can affect more people than just one during a single use). If her powers are similar with Taylor, meaning that she can attack a good number of people in the same time, then I'm seriously worried for Danny.

I wasn't sure if Coil had plans to keep the city's workers from trying to unblock the drain, but I supposed that was the sort of thing we could rely on him to handle. In the meantime, a third of the storm drains were too clogged with rubble and detritus to drain, and another third didn't connect to anything anymore. Add the fact that most of the storm drains were a little out of the way of regular foot traffic, and it wasn't too conspicuous.

I started running the moment I reached the beach, glad for the chance to resume my routine.
It was a strange environment, eerie. The wooden pathway, the literal boardwalk that had run in front of the stores, was now a skeletal ruin that loomed above the piles of trash that the bulldozers had all pushed to one side, twice as tall as I was. The beach had been cleared, which was a feat unto itself. The work of the bulldozers and the crews with rakes had revealed the packed, dirt-like layer from beneath the loose sand. Opposite the trash piles, by the water, there were mounds of irregularly shaped pieces of concrete, set to break up the waves and prevent the highest tides from dragging the trash, debris and machinery into the ocean. Two mounds looming on either side, with a space cleared in the middle for the trucks and any foot traffic.
A scene up ahead caught my attention. Two pieces of machinery lay in a heap just below the lip of the boardwalk above. A bulldozer and an eighteen wheeler with a crane-mounted claw attached had both been driven or pushed over the edge of the boardwalk and onto the beach. The cab of the truck with the claw had been partially crushed by the bulldozer. Though it was barely past six in the morning, a group of laborers were already there, some on the ledge above, others down on the beach, all gathered around the trucks.
Spray paint had been used to draw the same crude symbol on both the side of the eighteen wheeler and the concrete wall separating the beach from the Boardwalk above. A capital 'M', with two taller lines drawn vertically through it much the same as you'd do with a dollar sign. The Merchants.
It fit their modus operandi. They had been bums, drunks and addicts, looked down on others, before Leviathan came. In the wake of what Leviathan had done to the city, leaving everything in shambles, with social services gone or in chaos and even basic utilities in short supply, everyone else had been brought down to their level. The Merchants were even, I suspected, thriving. With strength in numbers and virtually nothing holding them back, they had become like pack animals. They roamed the city in bands of three to twenty, robbing, raping, pillaging and stealing. They were settling in some of the better areas, the neighborhoods that still had power or water, and forcing the existing residents out.
Or, worse, I could imagine that some were moving in and keeping the residents around for their own amusement. It was not a pleasant thought. The kind of people who had gravitated towards the Merchants tended to have a lot of resentment. Specifically, they had resentment towards people who had what they didn't. If they happened upon a family with Kate the soccer mom, Tommy, the kid with more video games than teeth, and Joe the blue-collar worker with a steady job? If they weren't letting them go? I was guessing that hypothetical family would be in for a hell of a rough time.

Oh, great....Merchants are FUCKING WILD ANIMALS. They're like rats who infect each place where they're travelling. Now I got it. I figured the title of this Arc. Isn't about S9...yet...its about fucking Merchants, these terrible caricatures of people who destroy everything in their way, stop people who are trying to fix what Leviathan destroyed, rape and steal and force unfortunate souls to become drug addicts or their slaves. Gosh, now I'm 100% sure that Chariot is Coil's man, these wild creatures are too freaking stupid to think at something so ingenious as using a mole against heroes. I think I hate Merchants. Hell, I don't think, actually I HATE them. Someone must play the role of exterminator and get rid of these rats. As quickly as possible.

It might have sounded silly, that line of speculation, but I'd spent time in the shelters. I'd heard about how vicious and depraved the Merchants were getting.
Anyways, this? This whole situation? They liked it. They wanted to keep things this way, and that meant they were going to stop anyone else from fixing it. They would intercept supplies, attack rescue workers and they would push construction vehicles into a heap on the beach.
I'd have to deal with these guys. It wasn't just intercepting any groups that made their way into my territory. That was easy, all things considered. No, I also had to deal with the small army that would come marching through here wanting retaliation over my having kicked the asses of any groups that had made their way into my territory.
I could call on the others, if such a situation arose, and I expected them to call on me if the same thing happened. But people would take time to get here, and the Merchants, the Chosen or whoever else was making trouble couldkeep making trouble until the reinforcements arrived. It was tricky, and I didn't know for sure how I'd handle things if-
"Taylor."

Between Fenrir's Chosen and Merchants, I want Fenrir's Chosen to beat the crap out of Merchants because at least Hookwolf and is people doesn't want to keep the city destroyed without any chance to be fixed back, only for shit and giggles. I hope they're going to fight, I'll seriously cheer for anyone who'll try to exterminate these rats, and I mean ANYONE, yes, including nazis. Fucking Skidmark, I barely know this guy and I want him to die a sadistic, painful death because he and his people are animals, paraphrasing Kaiser. Druggies, rapists, robbers, destructive pieces of shit. And they're getting worse as I keep reading about them. A wild guess about the person who's calling Taylor- either Lisa or Brian.

My reaction wasn't much different than if someone had stabbed me in the stomach with an icicle. I'd thought of that mental image in particular because of the cold, horrible feeling in my midsection; fear, guilt. My thoughts immediately went back to my nightmare from earlier. I turned to look.
"It's you," my dad spoke, "Wow."
He stood on the ledge above me. He was more tanned than I was. He wore a short-sleeved button-up shirt and khakis and held a clipboard. It set him apart from the other laborers, and the man who stood just behind him, wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans. I knew in an instant, my dad was in charge around here.

DANNY?!? Unexpected, good and bad in the same time. Quick, Taylor, hug him, apologize, warn him about Shatterbird and Merchants. Especially Merchants. Since he's in charge with construction team he might have serious problems with those rats. Do something, Taylor!

Looking at him, I couldn't imagine how I might have thought he was Coil. Even in a dream.
"Just out for my regular run."
Surprise etched his face, "You're running during this…?!"
He made a visible effort to close his mouth. It made me feel uneasy. What thought process or concern was keeping my dad from opening his mouth about my running? He'd been worried about it when the streets were relatively safe. Was he that spooked at the idea of scaring me off again?
He looked at the man who was standing near him, murmured something. The man walked over to join the others in observing the damage around the damaged vehicles.
We were left more or less alone.
"You got my messages?" I asked.
"I've listened to that answering machine so many times-" he stopped. He was a good distance away, but I could see the lines in his forehead, "I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"I… I don't know how to ask. I'm afraid to ask you to come home, because I'm not sure I can stand to hear you tell me you won't."
He paused, for a long moment. Waiting for me to jump at the opportunity. I stayed silent and hated myself for it.
"Well," he said, so quiet I could barely hear him, "You can always come home. Any time, any reason."
"Okay," I told him.
"What are you doing with yourself these days?"

I struggled to find an answer, and was saved by the bell. One of the men by the wreck shouted, "Danny!" and my dad turned.
My dad ran his fingers through his hair, "I need to go handle this. Can I… How do I contact you?"
"I'll leave you a message on your answering machine," I said, "With my cell phone number, and my email in case I'm in an area where cell service is down."
"Email?" he asked. "Where are you that you have access to a computer?"
A few blocks from here.
"Just outside the city limits," I lied, "Not far from the Market."
"So you're out of the way of any trouble," My dad noted, with a touch of relief. There was a noise as someone began prying one of the truck doors open, and my dad turned his head, frowning.
"But what are you doing here this morning?"
"I was going to stop by the house, see if it was in okay shape," I lied again. Was this the extent of my interactions with my dad? Always lies? "Keeping up with my running."
"I see. Look, I have to go, but I do want to talk again, soon. Lunch, maybe?"
"Maybe," I offered. He offered me a sad smile, then turned to go.
I moved my hand to adjust my glasses, and wound up waving at my face. I was wearing my lenses.
"Dad!" I called out. He stopped. "Um. I'd heard the Slaughterhouse Nine were around. Be careful, warn others." I pointed at my face.
His eyes widened. I could see the thought process, the realization. He took off his glasses and hung them from his shirt's front pocket. I wasn't positive that was much better.
"Thank you," he said, squinting slightly at me. He raised a hand in an awkward half-wave, and I returned it with one of my own. As if by mutual agreement, we turned to leave at the same time, both of us going in separate directions. He hurried to where he was needed, and I turned to run back to my place. My lair. I hadn't run nearly as far as I'd wanted, but I wasn't up to continuing.
I checked the kitchen clock as I entered from the cellar. I had thirty minutes. I took the time to shower and don my costume – my sleeve was still crusty and stained yellow-white where it had come in contact with the foam, but at least it wasn't sticky anymore.
My mask wasn't wearable with the contacts. I'd taken lenses out of an old pair of glasses and set them into the construction of my mask. I debated it for a few moments, then I decided to use the remaining time to fix it. With my knife's point, I set about undoing that particular piece of work, prying the lenses out.
I finished with enough time left over to grab and eat a breakfast bar. Coil's people were punctual, rapping on the metal shutter at six forty-five.
Alright. This was it. I pulled on my mask.
Time to claim my territory.

The good points of this conversation: -Taylor keeps sending messages to her dad, letting him now during this time that she's ok.
-She lied him that she's safe.
-Danny is the BEST FATHER IN THE WORLD.
-She warned him against wearing the glasses.

The bad points of this conversation: -Taylor still lied him.
-She won't return home.
-She didn't hug him.
-MERCHANTS MIGHT PROBABLY HURT THE BEST FATHER IN THE WORLD.

The coolest ending: Skitter went full crime lady.

Good night and sleep well, friends. I wonder, is there someone who's fan of Merchants? I'm not going to judge you for your preferences so you can tell me without any hesitation.

ExNihilo · May 21, 2018

blackarrow said:
I find spiders to be adorable. I even have a tarantula named Red.

On this we can agree. I personally like jumping spiders the most, specifically the Portia Spider. Clever little beastie.

Let's read Worm and its sequel Ward by Wildbow (One chapter/every day)

Section XIII

Banned Forever

SPACE!

SPACE!

SPACE!

SPACE!

SPACE!

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

SPACE!

Rocking the life

SPACE!