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

rafuki22 · Jun 16, 2018

blackarrow said:
Hello, my friends, and welcome to Chapter 3 12.03 | Worm "sighs" I noticed that everytime when characters (especially various groups of villains) try to make an alliance against another group of villains more dangerous than everyone else, their meetings can be summarize like this:
Everyone: We must make an alliance against ABB. They're out of control and hazardous for us all.
Hookwolf: My fighting dog ring was fucked up by a Bitch. This is what bothers me the most now. I want to punish her.
Everyone: We have bigger problems than your bussiness, Hook.

Everyone: We myst make an alliance against Slaughterhouse 9. They're psychos and a real danger for everyone.
Hookwolf: Undersiders and Travelers work together and they're stealing territories. This is what bothers me the most now. We have to declare them our enemies.
Merchants: He's right.
Pure: He's right.
Undersiders/Travelers: We have bigger problems than this one.
Protectorate/Wards/Faultline Crew/Coil "thinking": At least Merchants have an excuse for their immense stupidity, but nazis... what kind of excuse they have?

Ladies and gentlemen, Hookwolf in a nutshell.
I hope this is not going to be something that is going to happen everytime when a new team of supervillains will appear. Will get boring with time.

Looks like only Skitter and Tattletale know about Coil's power, the others have no idea. I seriously didn't noticed this till know, I believed that Tattletale told everyone but it looks like I was wrong. Ok, Grue, don't be so mad, Coil only played a role, he didn't fucked you. Even Tattletale agrees with me . I think that in one timeline, Coil (probably knowing Hookwolf pretty well) had thought that the nazi leader will demand Undersiders/Travelers to give up their territories and asked UT what they want to do. They said that they'll refuse to hand off their territories and Coil agreed with them. Now, in this timeline, Coil already knew their answers and only pretended that he's upset, playing his card perfectly. Voila! Nothing is actually lost, friends, Coil still have his spy, Trainwreck, so he will inform you about Merchants+ nazis' each movement, so you know how to plan your own attack when their plans will fail. Let's not forget someone....I don't exactly remember that person, all I know is that is a girl, she's wearing a horned mask and have a connection to Grue and she can be the best SPY in the world for some reasons. You can send this girl to spy on Fenrir Chosen unless...unless she's already spying on them. What if she was in the building during the entire meeting but nobody noticed her so she wasn't even mentioned? That would be so neat. Again, does this girl have a codename and power? I don't remember anything about.

Ah, NOW I remember (my brain is such a bitch sometimes). Her codename is Imp and she's Grue's sister. Still I can't remember her real name . And she indeed was present during the whole meeting (still is there because the meeting was over only for UT, the others are still talking and planning). Nice little trick, Wildbow, even if I kind of noticed it. I can imagine something like this:
Hookwolf, pointing to Imp: Who's this new chick and what she's doing here?
Skidmark: Just a random trash bitch, let's ignore her.
Hookwolf: Agree. Back to our crucial discussion. So, Undersiders and Travelers' territories....
Too bad that S9 have Cherish, otherwise Imp would have spied on them in their own base (they should have a base where they eat, sleep and do whatever psychos are doing). But Cherish will feel Imp's presence based on her emotions and will notice that Imp is not someone harmless, good only to be ignored by them.

I agree, Skitter should train her hearing-through-bugs part of her power because that would be pretty useful. She can hide bugs discreetly in S9's clothes (except for Siberian who's too paranoiac about people listening her through microphones planted in her clothes so she gave up at wearing them ) and listen to their conversations. I want Skitter to reach the maximum potential of her power, one day to be able to control all the insects in the world in the same time or even insects from other Earths. That would be the BEST thing.

They're going to Car Cemetery Lair until Imp and Genesis' projection will be done with spying...wait a minute, Imp is there and spying? Since when? I'm not sure I noticed this. So, there are 6 Travelers: Trickster, Ballistic, Sundancer, Genesis, Noelle and...Oliver, I suppose. Since he seemed pretty close to the team, like he's their friend. Yep, Oliver must be the last Traveler. I wonder if he have powers. Maybe his power is very weak/useless during combat, that's the reason why he doesn't help his teammates in combat and prefer to stay at Coil'a base all this time. "shakes her head" Bitch, Bitch, you still didn't told anyone about Siberian's visit and "gift". If something will happen to either team because of you cute puppy it will be only your fault. I'll accuse you first. And I'll be pissed even more on you for this than I was when you betrayed Skitter.

Car Cemetery Lair WITHOUT cars. Any explanation for this? Ballistic already send all the cars directly on the Moon . Alright, everyone (except for Skitter) pulled their masks down. Why I still don't know Ballistic's name? I just can't call him Ballistic when he's unmasked. Feels WEIRD to me. And I personally think that Krouse is a handsome young man (even if he can be such an asshole at times) but this is my opinion. Skitter can think whatever she wants. Alright, they're discussing plans about how to effectively attack S9 and they agree that they won't have many chances in case of a direct attack. They must use their wits and intelligence to defeat their enemies by exploring their weaknesses. Maybe the nazis and Merchants have some powerful members but Undersiders/Travelers have something more that they completely lack: wits and intelligence.

Oliver is a Traveler CONFIRMED. A Traveler with either a very weak power or without powers at all. Krouse seems to trust Noelle a lot, maybe she's smart enough to come up with a plan who'll actually works against S9. Sucks to be you, Hookwolf. Until you'll actually start fighting against S9, UT will probably manage to kill at least one or two of them. No territories for you, not even the sweet taste of victory. I don't think Coil drugged her too, Skitter. I think she looks so pale and tired because of her unusual power that not even her boyfriend/friend knows about. Maybe she's slowly turning into a monstrous zombie.

Noelle was the leader of Travelers before Krouse took over? Unexpected. Then Krouse probably was her second in command, this is how he became the new leader in her place. Gosh, they describe S9 members as they're chess- pieces. I have no freaking idea how to play chess, someone tried to teach me once but I didn't liked so I gave up. Smart game but not interesting enough for me. I'm more like a simple-minded girl who like to play soccer, tennis, skiing, skydiving and shooting people at paintball than anything else. Ok, let's learn chess with Krouse and Noelle. Jack is the King and if he'll be eliminated then his group will fall apart and the Apocalypse will never happen (if he isn't allowed to kill/influence that certain person who can bring the end of the world, of course). He's very vulnerable to any attack, but he's smart and he's protected by ridiculous overpowered people.

Siberian is the Queen and Crawler is the Rook. Crawler can be either completely friend or have his brains entirely destroyed so he can't regenerate anymore. Scrub would be excellent against Crawler but...Hookwolf decided that they should not work together, fuck him. Probably Siberian can be killed in her sleep since she's indestructible only when she wants to be? Maybe if she's sleeping, she can't concentrate over her powers and be vulnerable just like everyone else. Shatterbird and Burnscar are Bishops and they CAN be defeated and killed. Mannequin is a Knight. I think Cherish is rather a Bishop than a Knight. She's very hard to kill because of her power+ she can control more people than one in the same time but Alec is immune to her power so if Coil will give him a firegun he can simply shoot the bitch until she'll be completely dead. Alec already killed people, hates his sister so nothing in the world will stop him from killing her. As long as there aren't other S9 members around, of course.

Bonesaw is the wild card and even if she might appear weak in front of an attack, she might be exactly like Siberian in terms of physically resistance: possible that she made herself immune at pain, her wounds can probably heal in like few seconds, she's probably having 2 or 3 hearts so if you stab one won't be enough to kill her, maybe she have an indestructible skin, etc. Everything is possible with a medical Tinker as talented as Bonesaw is. On UT's side, the most powerful combat- wise individuals are: Skitter, Alec, Sundancer and Trickster. Non-combat wise: Tattletale and Imp. Imp can be considered a wild card, just like Bonesaw. You never know when she's watching you, except if you're Cherish.

Oh, no, Lisa, you just made Noelle sad by talking about monsters when she feels like she's turning into one of them . She doesn't have any hope left that she'll become normal again, it looks like she doesn't trust Coil anymore with his cure. You're not the only one here, Noelle, I don't trust him either. I never trusted him with anything.

Yes, Skitter, kick Lisa for me, she accidentally broke Noelle's heart (for people who believe that if I like Undersiders, I'll always favor them, Lisa is MY FAVORITE character in the entire story and I'll still criticize her everytime when she makes stupid mistakes or she's spiteful with someone who doesn't deserve this. Nobody is free of my criticizes, except for Aster ). Noelle is so damn smart, I'm starting to seriously like her and she might quickly become my second favorite Traveler after Marissa. Never heard about Shogi game before, neither about Go. There people played a lot of mind games in their lives, looks like. Ok, so what Noelle is trying to say here is that they can capture one of S9 members and use him/her against their teammates? Awesome, let's see: if they can restrain Siberian for a certain time until Alec will turn her into his puppet, then they'll defeat S9 EASY. S9 will not stand any chance against R Siberian unless they know her weakness. And I think they know her weakness+ Siberian can't be restrained. Crawler can't be hold for too long, Burnscar will escape easy, Bonesaw might have brain modifications so she'll be immune at a Master's control, won't work with Cherish either because she's immune at Alec's power, Jack is out of discussion, Mannequin doesn't have human limbs/body anymore, except for organs, so only Shatterbird is available to be controlled. Yep, that would be a pretty ok weapon against S9. Better her than nothing at all.

You just can't restrain Burnscar, she'll teleport using her flames. Yep, I agree that Bishop Shatterbird is the only one Alec can turn into his puppet. Aaaaaand, Genesis was sleeping all this time? WTF?!? This means that she can use her power only when she's sleeping, creating projections through her dreams? This explain why she's never present on the battlefield, not even at non-violent meetings. Not because she have a handicap, but because she can't use her power while awake. This is good to know, she's healthy, but powerless if she's not sleeping. On the other side, its pretty dangerous because anyone can hurt her if they'll find her body but as long as she's in Coil's base, she must be ok.

Sorry, Rachel, but I don't trust Bastard at all. I don't dislike the poor animal, its not his fault that he was probably experimented on and used, I dislike the idea that S9 might try to control Rachel/hurt everyone else through him...........Heavens no!!...HEAVENS NO!!!! Bonesaw is here. And I can't cuss anymore. THIS IS THE ONE OF THE WORST THINGS THAT MIGHT HAPPEN IN THIS STORY. Bonesaw shows her cute face and I'm not allowed to swear. Brb "goes in a corner of her room to cry"

Bye, see you later, my friends.

Jack Slash: This is not an exit.
The undersiders and travelers are fuc ... in a very disadvantageous position.
Edit: But, obviously, they survive, because they are the protagonists.

AmbarGriss · Jun 16, 2018

There is no way this can go wrong at all

Luckenzio · Jun 16, 2018

It must be lunch time.

blackarrow · Jun 16, 2018

Hi, friends, look, we have another Chapter here 12.04 | Worm who'll be done in 1-2 hours.

So, last time, UT were pretty BONED.

I have no idea why I'm so happy, I should feel bad for them because most of them are my favorite characters and they're so BONED

What is wrong with me? "slaps herself" I should stop feeling happy when UT are in real danger

Ok, that's better

"slaps herself again"

Much better.
So, this unexpected meeting might go in this way:
Jack: We're coming in peace. Don't be afraid. I just want to talk.
Cherish giggling stupiditly: In fact, we come here to torture each one of you mentally, emotionally, physically. And...and to test our nominees.
Jack slaps her over her head: Shut up, you...
Regent, looking very bored: ....stupid bitch. Well, man, that's my sister.
Bonesaw: Language.
Jack: I still have no idea why I agreed to make her a member of my team.
Regent: I understand your pain, man, I'm the one who understand you the most. I grew up with her.
Jack, pointing to Regent with his knife: One day, you and me should drink together and exchange opinions and ideas.
Cherish: But I thought that if I'm going to nominate him, you'll kill him.
Jack/Regent: SHUT UP, YOU DUMB BITCH!
Bonesaw: LANGUAGE, PLEASE.
Siberian: "sighs"
Cherish, tormenting Jack since forever.

"This is not an exit. Kudos for the reference," Tattletale said.
"I try," Jack replied. He didn't say anything more, looking us over. I felt a chill as his eyes stopped on me before moving on to Regent and the Travelers.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. What options did we have? Running? Siberian was bound to be faster than the dogs, and none of them were big. We'd be dead before Bitch got them to grow. That was even without considering Jack's ability to cut us down from where he stood.
Fight? Again, Siberian was the biggest problem.

What kind of reference Jack did? I don't get it. He only told them something very obvious, that there's no exit. There's no reference here. And yes, I agree with your statement, Skitter, Siberian is the most OP S9 member. Even if you'll try to kill Jack/Bonesaw/Cherish, Siberian will protect them and she's so fast that you won't have any time to react, they'll survive and them she'll tear you apart. Maybe, if you try to distract her attention with a mouse? Kitties can't resist to a juicy, tasty mouse, everyone know this.

She could take all of us on and win. I suspected the only people who could really go toe to toe with her would be Scion, Eidolon and the Endbringers, and even then, I wasn't sure if they would really be able to stop her. At best, Scion and Eidolon would survive and keep her from killing any civilians. The Endbringers would hold their own, but civilians obviously wouldn't be a concern.

Could we escape under a cover of my bugs and Grue's darkness? I didn't think Siberian would be able to see us, and if we surprised them, ran back the way we came-
"What's this?" Cherish asked, cutting off my train of thought. "Someone thinks she's had a clever idea. A bit of hope and inspiration there."
"Who?" Jack asked.
"When I looked at her with my power, before, I called her the Worm. She spent some time being as low on the food chain as you can get while still being able to move under her own power. As low as someone can get while still having an identity of their own. But she's realized she's poisonous, dangerous in her own unique way. She's useful, like a silkworm we harvest or an earthworm who works our gardens. She's even realized she's not alone, so long as she looks for friends among other dirty… contemptible creatures. Speaking of which, I forgot to say hi, little brother."

Siberian isn't human anymore. She transcended her human limits. Now she's a goddess- the Tiger Goddess- that everyone should be afraid of and respect. Bonesaw..."sighs"....why are you here? I want so much to say what I'm thinking about Cherish but I can't because of your presence alone. I have to find polite words and courtesy is not my strong point when it comes to people I absolutely dislike. You're lucky that Mannequin still exists, Cherish, otherwise you'd be my least favorite S9 member. She just compared Skitter with a worm (nice touch to the title, Wildbow), she called her a low-life and she also called the rest of Undersiders dirty creatures. Listen, miss, you're lower than they'll ever be. Even Hellhound (because Bonesaw, you get it) is better than you in some ways. Instead of trying to stab your crazy father to death, so everyone else would be free from his control and terror, you decided to run away from home, without caring about your siblings, you became member of S9, and now you want to steal the power from their leader and rule over them. You're a coward, a traitor, a selfish, extremely arrogant low form of life. Skitter is a Queen compared with you and her heart is bigger than your intelligence will ever be.
Me: I'm doing good, Bonesaw?
Bonesaw raises her head and smiles cutely.
Me: Awww, she's so cute.

"Fuck you, Cherie."
Cherish smiled and stared at me, "The little worm found a nugget of self-worth, she just doesn't want to look too closely at what that nugget is made of. If she's lucky, she's one of the worms without eyes. They might be keenly aware of their environment, but they're happier blind."
"Poetic," Jack said. "I take it Skitter is this clever worm?"
"Yup."
"Skitter." Jack looked at me. "You do anything and Siberian attacks. I'll attack as well. Whatever it is you're thinking of trying, I'm betting the two of us can cut you down before it works."
I swallowed, then took a small breath to clear my throat and ensure I wouldn't stammer or come out sounding even slightly unclear.
"Alright."

"The same goes for the rest of you, but I'm sure you know that. One or two of you could kill me right now, I'm sure, but you'd die horribly for your trouble, and I doubt any of you are that suicidal."
Did he know about the role he was going to play in the end of the world? It might change his stance and self-assuredness.
Jack looked at Cherish and she gave him a small nod. He turned a winning smile towards us. "How are our potential recruits doing?"
Recruits? Plural? Was he including Noelle? No. He would know she wasn't anywhere near here, thanks to Cherish.
Bonesaw piped up, "I wanted to say hi and meet the people who might be joining the family. Jack said that if I'm ready, I can tell you
what my test is. Except I haven't decided."
"Oh?" Jack looked at her, "I didn't know you had any ideas yet."
"I haven't decided," she told him, sounding annoyed at having to repeat herself. "The test might be about challenging them, but I'm challenging myself too. I don't want to be boring, so I'm making myself come up with something original each time."
Bad plan anyways. If we did try to escape under the cover of darkness, Siberian would probably reach us and cut at least some of us down before we got anywhere, even attacking indiscriminately.
"How admirable," Jack said.
"And it has to be fair. What I have in mind isn't fair, and I'm worried it's too similar to the test I gave Burnscar. I need this to be fair."
"Why does it have to be fair?" Cherish asked, "Unfair world, unfair test."
"Because I like them both! What better way to add to our family than to have two real siblings on the team? They would fight all the time but they'd really love each other deep down."

Heavens, they can't think at any escape possible because Cherish feels their feelings and interpret them properly, like she's reading their minds. Anyway, Bonesaw already gave Cherish a powerful blow by wanting to recruit Regent and not straight up murdering him, as Cherish expected to happen. Yes, yes, eat your heart out, Cherish. Bonesas likes playing fair, I appreciate this.

"Ha," Regent made it more of a word than an actual laugh, "You really don't know the Vasil family, munchkin."
"And the dog girl! I love dogs! I've seen the pictures of them and they're beautiful."
I felt a chill. All at once, Bitch's presence behind me felt ominous. She'd been picked by the Nine, and even when asked, she hadn't said a thing about it. Why? And who had picked her? The members of the Nine we hadn't been able to nail down candidates for were Jack, Bonesaw and Siberian.

Siberian, I saw, was staring at Bitch. When I turned to look at Bitch out of the corner of my eye, I saw her staring right back at Siberian, unflinching, holding the sleeping puppy in her arms.
"If I don't make it fair then it's like I'm picking one over the other and I don't want to do that," Bonesaw said.
"You're a smart girl. You'll work it out." Jack turned to our group, where we waited in tense silence. "A lot going on tonight. All these meetings, and we didn't get an invitation. Almost enough to hurt our feelings."
"Can you blame us?" Tattletale gave him a shrug. "We were talking about how to kill you guys."
I wasn't the only member of our group to look at her in horror.
Jack laughed. A little too hard for whatever it was he'd found funny about her statement. "Of course, I already knew you were plotting against us, and you knew I knew."
"Sure."
"Here is what you need to know, Regent, Bitch. Each of the Nine's members get to put our recruits up to a test. Some of us always give the same test, time after time, no matter the candidate. Mannequin always asks candidates to alter themselves in a way that costs them something. Siberian waits until half the candidates have been discarded and then hunts the remainder."

And now everyone found out what Hellhound tried to hide from them, that she's S9 candidate. Everyone is going to be so pissed on her and she kinds of deserve that, honestly. Jack knows about the failed meeting, maybe he had ways to spy them? Possible Cherish got emotional signals from them -even if they're so far away- and she interpreted the signals as actions of plotting against her team. Or Shatterbird flew close to the building, and nobody saw her because she's very good at concealing herself? So, each candidate will have to pass 9 testes. Actually 8. Cherish was so lucky for having only a single test to pass, not fair. While Regent have to pass 8.

I noticed that Mannequin makes the candidates to alter themselves. He already injured Colin so bad that Dragon had to turn him part cyborg in order to save his life. Mannequin's test costed Colin his humanity- but only at surface. Because inside he's super pissed on S9 and determined to keep fighting against them, two exclusive human feelings. Also, GOD, TATTLETALE, YOU'RE THE BEST, GURL!

"I hope she doesn't catch you," Bonesaw sounded disturbingly earnest as she spoke, "There's no meat left for me to work with after she's done."
"As for me," Jack said, "I tend to go last, when all the others have offered their tests and only one or two are left. I like to mix things up, and unlike our dear Bonesaw, I have no interest in playing fair."
"And if we fail?" Regent asked, "We die?"
"No, no," Jack smiled. "Nobody passes every test, and the punishment for failing a test is up to the individual who assigned it. Sometimes death, yes. Sometimes something different. But it's always worse."
"What did my sister do for her tests?" Regent asked.
"Hey!" Bonesaw raised her voice, stabbing a finger in his direction, "No cheating!"
Bonesaw wasn't the only one he'd irritated. Cherish glared at him.
"Not cheating," Regent said. "Call it idle curiosity. My sister got me in this mess, I figure it would be nice to hear what she had to go through. You don't even have to spoil the answers, I can agree not to copy anything she did."

Jack laughed, "Ah, adding to the challenge? Fair. She killed Hatchet Face. Crawler took that as his test completed in advance, didn't think of her as worth his time. Little Bonesaw, for her test, designed a parasite that would stay in her system for forty-eight hours and strip her of her powers for as long as it remained."
"Because it's not fair that Hatchet Face didn't get to give his test. And I wanted to break her out of her rut, so I made it so the parasite's effects would be permanent if she didn't drink lots of blood."
"Of course," Jack tapped the heel of his hand against his forehead, "That was an interesting little twist. Of course, you didn't tell her how much she needed to drink, or if a certain species counted… Well. It broke her stride, didn't it? Siberian went after her, starting on day two of Bonesaw's parasitic infection. Three days and three nights of cat and mouse. To her credit, she did very well. It came down to a hair. Another ten minutes and Siberian might have caught her a third time."
A dark look passed over Cherish's face.

Oh...oh....so Cherish had to pass all the testes like everyone else, not just killing Hatchet Face. That's good, very good and very fair. Miss, you deserve everything that happened to you, without any exception. You wanted to be a S9 member, they didn't forced you like they're doing with others. Should I feel pity for you? I have to think about...when I'll reach the ending of Worm, I'm going to answer this question.

She had to drink blood because of a parasite who stripped her of her powers (Bonesaw can create powers- stripping parasites too? Good to know). I suppose she even killed people to drink their blood (looks like Cherish did more awful things than her brother) And Siberian hunted her for 3 days and 3 nights, without letting her rest. I suppose that if she caught her a third time she'd have killed her. I so LOVE this backstory about Cherish's trials. Its just.... DELIGHTFUL (I'm not sarcastic this time).

"Shatterbird likes the psychological tests, and she was in a hell of a mood after Cherish nominated herself for the team. Our Cherie didn't have five minutes to rest before Shatterbird drove her into a room and sealed her in. No food, no light, barely any water. The room was empty, but for one glass shard. Always edging towards her, ready to prick, cut, slice and stab the second she stopped, the moment she tried to rest."
I shivered. Jack hadn't said how long that lasted, but after three days and three nights without sleep, even a few hours like that would have been nightmarish.
There was a clue there, too. Credit to Regent for getting Jack to let it slip. Shatterbird had more offensive range than Cherish, if she was able to trap the girl and use the shard without getting affected in retaliation. It wasn't much, but it was a tidbit of information, a piece for the puzzle.

"Burnscar's test, she failed. Afraid I'm not spoiling that one. Doesn't have the same impact if you know it's coming. That left only two tests for her to pass. Go on. Show them."
Cherish glared at Jack.
"Show them," he said. There weren't any hints of a threat or any anger in his tone, but she obeyed anyways. She turned her back to us, grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it off.
"Mannequin demands that a candidate changes themselves, and that it be hard. Having just faced the punishment Burnscar gave for failing her test, Cherish wasn't about to pay his."
The tattoo stretched from beneath the waist of her low-rise jeans and up the length of her back. The centerpiece was a large festering heart, done as realistically as any tattoo I'd ever seen. It was all in shades of green, covered with ulcers, sores, patches of rot and live maggots. The surrounding tattoos gave the appearance of torn skin revealing the bone and organs beneath, rats and roaches lurking behind ribs and atop her kidneys. Framing the entire thing were words, not done in any elaborate script, but in scrawled letters that looked like they'd been carved into a surface with knives: epithets and invectives.

Shatterbird test was the COOLEST test so far

. Cherish was already tired for not resting 3 days and 3 nights and she was put in a dark room with a single glass shard ready to hurt her if she tried to rest. Or, since it was a psychological test, maybe the glass shard NEVER EXISTED in the first place and Shatterbird just too advance over Cherish's tiredness and fear+ lack of light to trick her into believe that the shard is real. Schrodinger's glass shard. Well, I have to admit that Cherish (despite hating her so much that I find the tests being funny instead of terrifying) is a VERY strong person with an AMAZING determination, I would have failed the first test (killing Hatchet Face) in the first couple of minutes if I were in here place. I wonder how she failed Burnscar's test. I suppose Burnscar burns you to crisp if you fail to her test. So, how Cherish failed it without dying? Btw, nice tattoo, Cherish

.

"She told the artists to make it so ugly she'd want to kill them. If she didn't, she promised to kill their loved ones and then kill them. Took six artists in total. Inspired."

Cherish looked over one tattooed shoulder to fix Jack with a stare. It was then that I noticed two things. The first became clear as her skin stretched. There was depth to the tattoos that you didn't get with a two-dimensional image. Her skin had been scarred and flensed to raise edges and give the images and words a permanence that simple ink wouldn't have.
The second thing I noticed was her eyes. It was like a light had gone out inside her, just standing there with that tattoo exposed.
"That was the hard one for you, wasn't it?" Jack smiled. "Even as tired, scared, hurt and desperate as you were after the other five tests, it was when you willingly defaced that young, unblemished body of yours that a little something inside of you broke, and you began thinking of yourself as one of us. Liminality."
"What was your test, Jack?" Regent asked. I couldn't tell if he was glad to know his sister suffered or sad for her.
"Oh, I knew it would be almost impossible to top Mannequin's test. He caught her at the exact right moment, struck the right nerve, and pushed her to her very limits. Still, I think I managed to top it. Turn around, Cherish."
Like an automaton, she did. More tattoos and scars covered her chest, just as expansive, just as unpleasant to look at. Two nude women, their entwined limbs like the broken legs of a squashed bug, neither attractive in the slightest. One was emaciated, the other morbidly obese, and both were old. More tattoos of rotting and torn flesh framed the scene, and the words forming the border of the tattoos on the front were the opposite of the others, almost worse in their irony and desperation: 'Take Me'. 'Please Desire Me'. 'Want Me', and more vulgar variations of the same.

As I said before, nice tattoo, Cherish (I wonder if there's fan art with her tattoo because I want to have a good laugh at her misery. Please, if there's fan art with her, post here. If there is NFSW art, then just send me the link. Thank you). Alright, that tattoo must be very painful. I can remember that day when I tried to have a tattoo- a little butterfly on my shoulder. I'm very afraid of needles, this fear is my second one, after mannequins. But a close friend to mine convinced me to get the butterfly tattoo since I like tattoo too much in general. When I took a seat and I saw the needles, I was like...NOPE....got up and ran out of the workshop. My friend ran after me and tried to calm me down for 10 minutes. Yep, this happened...and it was only a small tattoo that I really liked and wanted. I don't have such a low pain tolerance (especially since I'm practicing some extreme sports), I just have an insane fear for needles. Ok, back to fun times with Cherish. I guess Jack forced her to do the chest tattoo, as part of his test.

"I made her do the other six tests all over again."
"I even brought back Hatchet Face for Crawler's test again!" Bonesaw grinned. "No surprise attack that time. That was one of the three tests she failed in round two, I was so proud of him!"
Seeing Cherish's shoulders draw together, her expression darken as memories came to mind, the ugly tattoos that guaranteed she would never be able to leave this behind and get a completely fresh start, never have a boy look at her body and just be hungry for her… I had to look away. I knew she was the worst sort of person, I just didn't know how much of that came before the tests.
"Well, sis," Regent said, "I thought you were running headlong into a fate worse than death. I stand corrected. You're already there, and you did it to yourself."

Ok, Jack made her repeat the tests. You have a good inspiration, Jack, I can appreciate you for this.

Well, Cherish, I have to agree with Regent here. You're the only one responsible for whatever happened to you, not S9 members, not even Mannequin who took your whatever innocence you still had before his test. They did what they did because they're psychopaths who enjoy tormenting people, this is what they know the best. But you challenged them to do all of these to you, you kind of forced them to accept you as their member, even if you knew that they like to choose their favorite candidates by themselves. But you probably told them that you want to be a member and you'll accept everything they're going to do to test you and they....didn't refused you. They gave you what you wanted. If you ask the devil to torture you, do you think he'll say no? You're responsible for your own life, nobody else. Instead of helping your siblings or helping the local Protectorate to kill/arrest your father and become someone better than him, you choose to become just another monster in a team of monsters. "Nice" choice, girl. You made your bed of glass shards and needles, now lie in.

She pulled on her shirt and snarled, "This is the part where I'd threaten to kill you, except they are going to do it so much better than I ever could."
"Can't do it yourself?" Tattletale cut in. "Why do you have to rely on them?"
Cherish's eyes narrowed. "You're trying something. I feel smugness from you, too much confidence for where you're standing."
Jack smiled and caught the hairs of his beard between his thumb and index finger. "Oh? I'm still interested to hear your answer to her question."
"Fuck that. You're getting predictable, old man. You want to keep things amusing for yourself, you know you're as smart as anyone else in the room, so you take the hard road so it won't be too easy. Why not have Siberian eat her? Can't you imagine the looks on her friend's faces when they can't do a thing to save her? I bet it'd light a fire under their asses, rev them up for the tests. Maybe they'll even throw themselves headlong into it, to spare the rest."

"Now who's trying something?" Tattletale asked. "She's trying to manipulate you."
Jack frowned and yanked out the hairs of his beard he was holding. He flicked them away, "I know she's trying to manipulate me."
"Okay, except I just noticed something else, as I finished that last sentence. Do you know she's playing a long con? She's setting you guys up, using her power to pull your strings and make you attached to her. Half a year to a year, she'll probably have you wrapped around her little finger," a slow smile spread across Tattletale's face.

Tattletale, Tattletale, you're my SUPREME HEROINE. You fu...scr....finished her off with few well placed words. Cherish is FINISHED. But as I said before, I'm sure Jack already knows this, he's too smart to let himself being tricked by a st...someone like Cherish. Tattletale only confirmed his suspicion. Now, what you're going to do, Cherie?

I could see Cherish's expression change from anger and irritation to wide-eyed horror.
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down, and I could just barely hear him mutter the word, "Disappointing."
"It was probably her plan from the start," Tattletale said. "She-"
All at once, Tattletale stopped talking, and I was blind. In that same instant, something slapped against the fabric of my mask. Wet. I could taste it against the fabric of my mask. Salty-sweet, with a faint metallic taste.
"You fucking bastard!" Grue shouted, his voice distorted by his power.
Blood.

WHAT JACK DID? WHAT HE DID? DID HE USED HIS SUPER-CUTTING OF HIS KNIFE TO STAB TATTLETALE BECAUSE SHE SAID SOMETHING THAT HE ALREADY KNEW? DID HE HURT MY TATTLETALE? Well, if you did that, then you're no longer my third favorite S9. I don't like people who hurt my favorite character, especially when they stab her and possible let her bleed to death. Siberian, you just took Jack's place, now he's my fourth favorite S9. Only because he did whatever he did to Tattletale. Gosh, this Chapter was fun till now, but from now on...its not funny anymore. Tattletale...I'm kind of afraid to read further and possible seeing Tattletale slowly...dying....

I hurried to wipe it from the lens of my mask. Everything I saw was obscured by the streaks that remained, almost black in the light.
Tattletale lay on the ground a little in front of me, both Regent and Sundancer crouched at her side. So much blood, covering her face
and Regent and Sundancer's hands.
Jack toyed with the knife in his hands, while Siberian stood between him and the rest of our group, her eyes primarily on Ballistic.
Jack paced back and forth, two or three steps at a time, gesticulating with his knife. "I was looking forward to Cherish's attempt.
Bonesaw and I even had a plan in mind. I wanted to see what she did, how she worked around Siberian's immunity to her power… then the safeguards Bonesaw implanted in us would have kicked in and released us from her thrall, and oh, the look on her face. To have seen that would have been so very worth all the trouble. And that girl just spoiled it all."
"You know," Cherish said, shell-shocked.

He KNEW. He just wanted to test her. Predictable. So, Jack stabbed Tattletale in the face, possible giving her a glasgow smile. Ok, ok, this is no so bad, she isn't dead. Coil have the best doctors in the world, they can heal her in no time and even if she'll have an ugly scar, maybe they'll find a parahuman with healing powers to make the scar go away or if not, she anyway doesn't care about her beauty as much as she cares about her brains. Nothing is lost forever, all that matters is for my precious purple angel to LIVE.

Still, I'm pissed because she was injured but I'm happy thinking at what Jack ia going to do to Cherish.

"Clearly."
"But my power – I didn't sense anything as far as your planning, your emotional networking or-"
I dropped onto my knees so fast it hurt, and immediately began trying to help Tattletale, and Regent gave me the space, allowing me to take over. Jack had cut her from her mouth to the edge of her jaw. It had parted the skin at the corner of her mouth. I must've been directly in the line of fire for the resulting blood spray. How was I supposed to put pressure on a wound like this?
Jack was getting heated, talking mostly to himself. "That was the whole point! To see how long we could go without tipping her off.
Bonesaw helped with some surgery, even some artificial neural connections that Cherish wouldn't be able to see. So much work and preparation ruined."

"I-" Cherish started, then stopped before she could finish the sentence. Trying again, she asked, "What are you going to do with me?"
"Not a pressing concern," Jack said, as if realizing she was there.
My power crackled at the edge of my consciousness. I had to suppress it, before I gave them another excuse to attack us. The majority of my attention was on Tattletale, on Lisa. I used my fingers to scrape as much of the blood out of her mouth and throat as possible, then adjusted the angle of her head so any further blood would flow down the side of her face or out of her mouth.
The fabric of my gloves afforded more traction than fingertips would have, but the amount of blood made everything slick to the point that I couldn't be sure of what I was holding. I had one hand inside her mouth, her teeth hard against my knuckles, my other hand pressing down from above to sandwich it and press everything as closed as I could get it. She roused herself enough to pull away, no doubt because I was pulling the tear at the corner of her mouth open.
"Hold her head, Regent, don't let her pull away. And cloth," I said, my voice small, "Need some kind of cloth to absorb the blood."
First aid classes hadn't prepared me for this.
There was a tearing sound, and regent handed me a strip of cloth. I fumbled to put it into place at the corner of her mouth, where the bleeding was worse, then applied the rest along the cut. The white cloth turned totally crimson in a second.
"More," I said, keeping my voice quiet so it wouldn't carry to the members of the Nine that were standing nearby.
"I wouldn't bother," Jack said. "A wound like that, she'll die of blood loss before you can do anything."
"You asshole," Grue growled.
"You really shouldn't swear!" Bonesaw said. "It's crude! If you agree to be good, maybe I could fix her for you. Oh, and since her cheek's already cut, I could change it around so her teeth are on the outside and she wouldn't have all that skin and flesh just getting in the way. And, and, I could make it really artistic and beautiful, and change her tongue so she can make all of the speech sounds you'd normally need lips to make, like puh, buh, muh, wah, vuh…"
Regent handed me more cloth, and I wadded it into place. Tattletale wasn't really moving, and I couldn't be sure if it was because of the amount of blood she had already lost or just because it hurt too much.
I saw a flicker of light as Jack flicked his knife out, tossed it into the air and then caught the blade tip between his middle finger and the nail of his index finger. He snapped it around so he gripped the handle. "I suppose I should get around to the purpose of our meeting you here, Regent and Bitch. Unless you want to pose your test to them, Bonesaw?"
"No. Let me think about it for a little while."

He indeed gave her the glasgow smile. Jack Slash, worm-verse Joxer confirmed. But, unlike Joxer, he prefers to not give himself a glasgow smile as well as he's giving to others. Oh, no, please, don't let Bonesaw try to "fix" Tattletale. Yep, she have an artistic soul but she's too much of an artist for people to understand her. Her art is too complicated for simple people and if they don't understand something then they should not try it. Better let Bonesaw exercise her artistic skills on more less ignorant and perceptive people

.

"Alright. Well, it wouldn't do if our candidates died before we even got around to the tests, so I came to offer you two a warning. Two warnings, as it happens, for each of you."
Why couldn't he stop talking so we could take Tattletale somewhere where she could get the help she needed? My hands were already cramping from trying to maintain pressure and the awkward angle that resulted from the way I had her head tilted.
"Two of the candidates we chose are heroes, for lack of a better word, and Cherish reported that we may have trouble bringing them in close enough to introduce them to the tests. Our dear Bonesaw has devised an incentive to encourage their cooperation."

Bonesaw reached into her pocket and withdrew a small vial.
I felt Tattletale tense and looked down. She was staring at the vial.
"Biological warfare?" Grue asked.
"Naturally."
"What does it do?"
"Just in case all of our candidates fail to play along, I would strongly advise you to stick to bottled water. No filtered water, no rainwater, none of that. Not unless you're feeling brave. Just to be on the safe side, avoid getting your injuries wet as well."
"And the second warning?" I asked. I wanted him to finish.
"In…" Jack pulled out a pocket watch on a chain. "T-minus thirty-four minutes, Shatterbird is going to sing loud enough for much of the city to hear her. She wants to make it known to everyone in Brockton Bay that we're here, and since there's no need to maintain surprise with our potential members, I said she should. With this in mind, you would be well advised to stay away from anything made of glass or any beaches, and be sure to put away anything in your pockets with a screen."
Dad. The people in my territory. I had to warn them, but…
I looked down at Tattletale and felt paralyzed.
"That's the meat and bones of it," Jack smiled, "It was nice to meet you two."
I felt Tattletale move. Her hand was fumbling at her belt. Was she going for the gun in the largest pouch? No. A pouch near there, just as long, but thinner.
"Sundancer," I hissed, "Help her."
Sundancer did. There were pens in the pouch.
"Help her find the paper," I said. Jack and his team had wrapped up and were walking away.
It was a notepad barely larger than a pad of post-its. Tattletale took the pen that Sundancer held for her, clasping it in a closed fist.
She scrawled out one word. 'Deal'.
Then she looked up at me, her eyes wide.
"No," I whispered. "We have to get you help, and I have to go warn-"
She stabbed at me with the pen and clenched her teeth against the back of my hand, which must have caused her incredible pain. I wasn't sure if it was her pain and mine, but Cherish turned and gestured for Jack, who was already walking way, to stop.
"A deal," I called out, "I don't-"
Sundancer had ripped off the first sheet, and Tattletale was writing the next message.
I swallowed, "She wants to know what happens if… if more than one person is left at the end."
"We pit them against one another," Jack said.
The next word- I could barely make it out. 'Game'.
"She, um. I think she wants to play a game?"
Tattletale gave me a single, slow blink of confirmation. She was writing more.
"A game?" Jack asked.
I couldn't make sense of it. 'If there more half left at end.'

Oh, they're going to contaminate the whole potable water in the city (thus Plague used the Arc's Title) and let Shatterbird sing until the whole City who Hates the Sound of Music hears (my favorite musical of all times, yeah). And if Shatterbird sings, people will die. Especially Danny, the most innocent adult character in the entire story. Quickly, Skitter, leave Tattletale alone- Coil's super-doctors will take good care of her- she's not in danger to die. Go and WARN your father+ the people in your territory. Ask Hellhound to give you a dog to ride and if she doesn't want, FORCE her. This is a very serious situation here and I'm getting anxious. What kind of deal Tattletale wants to do with these lunatics?

"One second." I said. Sundancer ripped off another sheet. This was excruciatingly slow, trying to parse her shorthand and follow her line of thought. "Tests. If there's more than half of the candidates left at the end of the tests, we win. You leave with volunteer? You could leave with whoever wants to join. But you leave."

"You expect that half of the candidates could pass the tests? I'm intrigued. I don't think it's possible, but I'm intrigued."
"Brockton Bay has its share of badasses, Jack," I said, my voice hard with repressed outrage.
"I don't see what we get out of it."
Tattletale had dropped the pen. It was up to me to pick up the slack.
"It's a challenge. A game. Changing the routine. We can do whatever we need to, to keep as many candidates alive as we can. You guys… do what you do. It keeps things interesting." My eyes fell on Bonesaw, "And maybe it keeps things fair?"
Seconds passed. I felt the tension ratcheting up another notch with each beat of my heart. Every moment that passed was one step closer to Tattletale bleeding out or to Shatterbird using her power.
"I like that. It might be a way to fix the test I want to give. Let's do it," Bonesaw said, looking up at Jack.
He frowned. "We'll discuss it as a group. I suspect we'll have terms of our own to attach to this game. Among other things, a steep penalty for when we win."
And then he turned to leave.
I looked down at Tattletale. Her eyes were closed. My hands felt like two blocks of stone where I had them pressed to her injury; rigid, heavy, unable to move.
"I don't know what to do," I said, barely audible to myself. I looked up at Grue and said, louder, "I don't know what to do."
He didn't have an answer for me, but he bent down to check on Tattletale.
It was Tattletale who gave me my orders.
"Guh," she coughed out the word. As Grue gently pulled my hands away to take over, she repeated, only slightly clearer, "Goh."
Go.

YES, TATTLETALE IS THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE STORY AND I'LL FIGHT WITH ANYONE WHO'LL SAY THAT I SHOULD STOP BEING SO SUBJECTIVE WHEN IT COMES TO THIS PRECIOUS GIRL. Not only that she proposed a very reasonable test (accepted by Bonesaw, bless your little monstrous heart) so if half of candidates would pass the tests, they're free and S9 can't force them anymore to become members and they'll leave the City (I think all of the candidates will pass the tests because they're THAT badass) but also she asked Skitter to go and save her dad+ her people from the imminent attack, despite being herself injured. Tattletale having a heart of gold confirmed. Well, it was already confirmed long time ago. <3 <3 <3 (platonic of course) Tattletale.

I stood, wobbling slightly as I backed away from her. She looked so fragile, lying on her side, blood pooling beneath her head, around her dirty blond hair. And I was leaving her there.
"We can call Coil," Ballistic said. "He can send a car to get you where you need to be."
I shook my head. I couldn't wait and trust that a car would arrive in time, or that it would get me where I needed to be. There would be detours, areas a car couldn't pass through.
I turned and I started running. Out of the parking garage, past Cherish, Bonesaw and Jack. They didn't say anything, and they didn't try to stop me.
I was a block away from them when I got my cell phone out and dialed home, but I already knew the response I would get. The automated message came from the phone as I held it in one hand, heading directly north.
This phone number is currently out of service. If you would like to leave a message…
Judging distances wasn't a great strength of mine. How many blocks, how far did I have to run to reach my dad? Five miles? Six? I was a practiced runner, but the streets here weren't all in the best shape. Some were flooded, others strewn with debris, still more suffering in both departments. There were areas that were blocked off.
And I had less than thirty minutes.

She didn't even asked Hellhound to borrow her a dog. She just ran away. Alright, I wish you all the good luck in the world, Skitter. You can save your people too, by calling Charlotte and Sierra at phone and asking them to evacuate them somewhere where there's no glass or sand. Hope the girls will know what they do. The next Chapter is going to be ONE HELL OF A RIDE. Or better ONE HELL OF A RUNNING.

Good night and sleep well, my friends.

ExNihilo · Jun 17, 2018

blackarrow said:
What kind of reference Jack did?

It's a song, I think?

fabledFreeboota · Jun 17, 2018

The reference is to American Psycho as I understand it.

rafuki22 · Jun 17, 2018

blackarrow said:
Hi, friends, look, we have another Chapter here 12.04 | Worm who'll be done in 1-2 hours. So, last time, UT were pretty BONED. I have no idea why I'm so happy, I should feel bad for them because most of them are my favorite characters and they're so BONED What is wrong with me? "slaps herself" I should stop feeling happy when UT are in real danger Ok, that's better "slaps herself again" Much better.
So, this unexpected meeting might go in this way:
Jack: We're coming in peace. Don't be afraid. I just want to talk.
Cherish giggling stupiditly: In fact, we come here to torture each one of you mentally, emotionally, physically. And...and to test our nominees.
Jack slaps her over her head: Shut up, you...
Regent, looking very bored: ....stupid bitch. Well, man, that's my sister.
Bonesaw: Language.
Jack: I still have no idea why I agreed to make her a member of my team.
Regent: I understand your pain, man, I'm the one who understand you the most. I grew up with her.
Jack, pointing to Regent with his knife: One day, you and me should drink together and exchange opinions and ideas.
Cherish: But I thought that if I'm going to nominate him, you'll kill him.
Jack/Regent: SHUT UP, YOU DUMB BITCH!
Bonesaw: LANGUAGE, PLEASE.
Siberian: "sighs"
Cherish, tormenting Jack since forever.

What kind of reference Jack did? I don't get it. He only told them something very obvious, that there's no exit. There's no reference here. And yes, I agree with your statement, Skitter, Siberian is the most OP S9 member. Even if you'll try to kill Jack/Bonesaw/Cherish, Siberian will protect them and she's so fast that you won't have any time to react, they'll survive and them she'll tear you apart. Maybe, if you try to distract her attention with a mouse? Kitties can't resist to a juicy, tasty mouse, everyone know this.

Siberian isn't human anymore. She transcended her human limits. Now she's a goddess- the Tiger Goddess- that everyone should be afraid of and respect. Bonesaw..."sighs"....why are you here? I want so much to say what I'm thinking about Cherish but I can't because of your presence alone. I have to find polite words and courtesy is not my strong point when it comes to people I absolutely dislike. You're lucky that Mannequin still exists, Cherish, otherwise you'd be my least favorite S9 member. She just compared Skitter with a worm (nice touch to the title, Wildbow), she called her a low-life and she also called the rest of Undersiders dirty creatures. Listen, miss, you're lower than they'll ever be. Even Hellhound (because Bonesaw, you get it) is better than you in some ways. Instead of trying to stab your crazy father to death, so everyone else would be free from his control and terror, you decided to run away from home, without caring about your siblings, you became member of S9, and now you want to steal the power from their leader and rule over them. You're a coward, a traitor, a selfish, extremely arrogant low form of life. Skitter is a Queen compared with you and her heart is bigger than your intelligence will ever be.
Me: I'm doing good, Bonesaw?
Bonesaw raises her head and smiles cutely.
Me: Awww, she's so cute.

Heavens, they can't think at any escape possible because Cherish feels their feelings and interpret them properly, like she's reading their minds. Anyway, Bonesaw already gave Cherish a powerful blow by wanting to recruit Regent and not straight up murdering him, as Cherish expected to happen. Yes, yes, eat your heart out, Cherish. Bonesas likes playing fair, I appreciate this.

And now everyone found out what Hellhound tried to hide from them, that she's S9 candidate. Everyone is going to be so pissed on her and she kinds of deserve that, honestly. Jack knows about the failed meeting, maybe he had ways to spy them? Possible Cherish got emotional signals from them -even if they're so far away- and she interpreted the signals as actions of plotting against her team. Or Shatterbird flew close to the building, and nobody saw her because she's very good at concealing herself? So, each candidate will have to pass 9 testes. Actually 8. Cherish was so lucky for having only a single test to pass, not fair. While Regent have to pass 8. I noticed that Mannequin makes the candidates to alter themselves. He already injured Colin so bad that Dragon had to turn him part cyborg in order to save his life. Mannequin's test costed Colin his humanity- but only at surface. Because inside he's super pissed on S9 and determined to keep fighting against them, two exclusive human feelings. Also, GOD, TATTLETALE, YOU'RE THE BEST, GURL!

Oh...oh....so Cherish had to pass all the testes like everyone else, not just killing Hatchet Face. That's good, very good and very fair. Miss, you deserve everything that happened to you, without any exception. You wanted to be a S9 member, they didn't forced you like they're doing with others. Should I feel pity for you? I have to think about...when I'll reach the ending of Worm, I'm going to answer this question. She had to drink blood because of a parasite who stripped her of her powers (Bonesaw can create powers- stripping parasites too? Good to know). I suppose she even killed people to drink their blood (looks like Cherish did more awful things than her brother) And Siberian hunted her for 3 days and 3 nights, without letting her rest. I suppose that if she caught her a third time she'd have killed her. I so LOVE this backstory about Cherish's trials. Its just.... DELIGHTFUL (I'm not sarcastic this time).

Shatterbird test was the COOLEST test so far . Cherish was already tired for not resting 3 days and 3 nights and she was put in a dark room with a single glass shard ready to hurt her if she tried to rest. Or, since it was a psychological test, maybe the glass shard NEVER EXISTED in the first place and Shatterbird just too advance over Cherish's tiredness and fear+ lack of light to trick her into believe that the shard is real. Schrodinger's glass shard. Well, I have to admit that Cherish (despite hating her so much that I find the tests being funny instead of terrifying) is a VERY strong person with an AMAZING determination, I would have failed the first test (killing Hatchet Face) in the first couple of minutes if I were in here place. I wonder how she failed Burnscar's test. I suppose Burnscar burns you to crisp if you fail to her test. So, how Cherish failed it without dying? Btw, nice tattoo, Cherish .

As I said before, nice tattoo, Cherish (I wonder if there's fan art with her tattoo because I want to have a good laugh at her misery. Please, if there's fan art with her, post here. If there is NFSW art, then just send me the link. Thank you). Alright, that tattoo must be very painful. I can remember that day when I tried to have a tattoo- a little butterfly on my shoulder. I'm very afraid of needles, this fear is my second one, after mannequins. But a close friend to mine convinced me to get the butterfly tattoo since I like tattoo too much in general. When I took a seat and I saw the needles, I was like...NOPE....got up and ran out of the workshop. My friend ran after me and tried to calm me down for 10 minutes. Yep, this happened...and it was only a small tattoo that I really liked and wanted. I don't have such a low pain tolerance (especially since I'm practicing some extreme sports), I just have an insane fear for needles. Ok, back to fun times with Cherish. I guess Jack forced her to do the chest tattoo, as part of his test.

Ok, Jack made her repeat the tests. You have a good inspiration, Jack, I can appreciate you for this. Well, Cherish, I have to agree with Regent here. You're the only one responsible for whatever happened to you, not S9 members, not even Mannequin who took your whatever innocence you still had before his test. They did what they did because they're psychopaths who enjoy tormenting people, this is what they know the best. But you challenged them to do all of these to you, you kind of forced them to accept you as their member, even if you knew that they like to choose their favorite candidates by themselves. But you probably told them that you want to be a member and you'll accept everything they're going to do to test you and they....didn't refused you. They gave you what you wanted. If you ask the devil to torture you, do you think he'll say no? You're responsible for your own life, nobody else. Instead of helping your siblings or helping the local Protectorate to kill/arrest your father and become someone better than him, you choose to become just another monster in a team of monsters. "Nice" choice, girl. You made your bed of glass shards and needles, now lie in.

Tattletale, Tattletale, you're my SUPREME HEROINE. You fu...scr....finished her off with few well placed words. Cherish is FINISHED. But as I said before, I'm sure Jack already knows this, he's too smart to let himself being tricked by a st...someone like Cherish. Tattletale only confirmed his suspicion. Now, what you're going to do, Cherie?

WHAT JACK DID? WHAT HE DID? DID HE USED HIS SUPER-CUTTING OF HIS KNIFE TO STAB TATTLETALE BECAUSE SHE SAID SOMETHING THAT HE ALREADY KNEW? DID HE HURT MY TATTLETALE? Well, if you did that, then you're no longer my third favorite S9. I don't like people who hurt my favorite character, especially when they stab her and possible let her bleed to death. Siberian, you just took Jack's place, now he's my fourth favorite S9. Only because he did whatever he did to Tattletale. Gosh, this Chapter was fun till now, but from now on...its not funny anymore. Tattletale...I'm kind of afraid to read further and possible seeing Tattletale slowly...dying....

He KNEW. He just wanted to test her. Predictable. So, Jack stabbed Tattletale in the face, possible giving her a glasgow smile. Ok, ok, this is no so bad, she isn't dead. Coil have the best doctors in the world, they can heal her in no time and even if she'll have an ugly scar, maybe they'll find a parahuman with healing powers to make the scar go away or if not, she anyway doesn't care about her beauty as much as she cares about her brains. Nothing is lost forever, all that matters is for my precious purple angel to LIVE. Still, I'm pissed because she was injured but I'm happy thinking at what Jack ia going to do to Cherish.

He indeed gave her the glasgow smile. Jack Slash, worm-verse Joxer confirmed. But, unlike Joxer, he prefers to not give himself a glasgow smile as well as he's giving to others. Oh, no, please, don't let Bonesaw try to "fix" Tattletale. Yep, she have an artistic soul but she's too much of an artist for people to understand her. Her art is too complicated for simple people and if they don't understand something then they should not try it. Better let Bonesaw exercise her artistic skills on more less ignorant and perceptive people .

Oh, they're going to contaminate the whole potable water in the city (thus Plague used the Arc's Title) and let Shatterbird sing until the whole City who Hates the Sound of Music hears (my favorite musical of all times, yeah). And if Shatterbird sings, people will die. Especially Danny, the most innocent adult character in the entire story. Quickly, Skitter, leave Tattletale alone- Coil's super-doctors will take good care of her- she's not in danger to die. Go and WARN your father+ the people in your territory. Ask Hellhound to give you a dog to ride and if she doesn't want, FORCE her. This is a very serious situation here and I'm getting anxious. What kind of deal Tattletale wants to do with these lunatics?

YES, TATTLETALE IS THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE STORY AND I'LL FIGHT WITH ANYONE WHO'LL SAY THAT I SHOULD STOP BEING SO SUBJECTIVE WHEN IT COMES TO THIS PRECIOUS GIRL. Not only that she proposed a very reasonable test (accepted by Bonesaw, bless your little monstrous heart) so if half of candidates would pass the tests, they're free and S9 can't force them anymore to become members and they'll leave the City (I think all of the candidates will pass the tests because they're THAT badass) but also she asked Skitter to go and save her dad+ her people from the imminent attack, despite being herself injured. Tattletale having a heart of gold confirmed. Well, it was already confirmed long time ago. <3 <3 <3 (platonic of course) Tattletale.

She didn't even asked Hellhound to borrow her a dog. She just ran away. Alright, I wish you all the good luck in the world, Skitter. You can save your people too, by calling Charlotte and Sierra at phone and asking them to evacuate them somewhere where there's no glass or sand. Hope the girls will know what they do. The next Chapter is going to be ONE HELL OF A RIDE. Or better ONE HELL OF A RUNNING.

Good night and sleep well, my friends.

I can understand that you do not like cherish, but that you find it funny, even if she deserves it, does not speak very well of you.
Also, Tattletale, really? You can not help but be a know-it-all, right? Even if it gets you in trouble.

blackarrow · Jun 17, 2018

rafuki22 said:
I can understand that you do not like cherish, but that you find it funny, even if she deserves it, does not speak very well of you.
Also, Tattletale, really? You can not help but be a know-it-all, right? Even if it gets you in trouble.

I seriously find funny when stupid and immoral, vicious people are suffering because of the poor decisions they make. I hate stupidity and if its combined with evilness then that person deserves everything that happen to them, why should I feel sorry? Does Cherish feels sorry for all the people she controls and force them to kill themselves? Does she feels sorry for their families that will cry after them? Does she feels sorry for the fatherless and motherless children she left behind? Should I feel sorry for her? No. Plus, she was the one who wanted to become a member of S9, who agreed to do their testes. Nobody forced her. Its like someone wants to be a member of ISIS and he's fully aware of what ISIS is doing. Then ISIS decided to test their new recruit by sending him to blow up various objectives. The recruit can refuse this test but no more membership for him. Instead of abandoning the idea of becoming an ISIS member, he accepts the test, blowing up the respective objectives but he kills himself in the process. Should I feel sorry for the dumbass recruit? NO. If you feel sorry for Cherish then I don't have any problem at all. You're free to even like her, I don't judge people preferences

But I hold no pity towards her. I'll change my mind only if she'll decide- willingly and not forced by someone- to help UT against S9. Then I'll say that she wants to change and be a better person.

Yes, I can agree with you here about Tattletale, she really can't control herself as she have to tattle and tattle and tattle, no matter the consequences, but she tried to make the situation better for UT by pitting S9 against each other. That was a good strategy, the problem is that she didn't know that Jack already knew about Cherish's plans. So, she failed, BUT she won elsewhere, convincing Bonesaw to change their testing method, making it more fair for everyone involved. Jack isn't sure yet if he wants to accept or not, but I'm sure that if he really cares about Bonesaw as it seems, then he'll listen to her. I'm still not sure if he have paternal feelings for her or if he's just very proud of her work, but its obviously that he's listening her with some decisions. I won't be surprised if the real leader of S9 will turn to be Bonesaw. Maybe she did something to get Jack under her control and make him let her take all important decisions. Since she can create powers- stripping parasites and safeguards who can protect a person from emotion manipulation, then I won't be surprised at all if she can create a parasite who allow its host to be mind controlled and implanted it in Jack.

blackarrow · Jun 17, 2018

fabledFreeboota said:
The reference is to American Psycho as I understand it.

Never heard about American Psycho but it looks like its a book/movie about a wealthy serial killer. I must read this book.

Thank you.

rafuki22 · Jun 17, 2018

blackarrow said:
I seriously find funny when stupid and immoral, vicious people are suffering because of the poor decisions they make. I hate stupidity and if its combined with evilness then that person deserves everything that happen to them, why should I feel sorry? Does Cherish feels sorry for all the people she controls and force them to kill themselves? Does she feels sorry for their families that will cry after them? Does she feels sorry for the fatherless and motherless children she left behind? Should I feel sorry for her? No. Plus, she was the one who wanted to become a member of S9, who agreed to do their testes. Nobody forced her. Its like someone wants to be a member of ISIS and he's fully aware of what ISIS is doing. Then ISIS decided to test their new recruit by sending him to blow up various objectives. The recruit can refuse this test but no more membership for him. Instead of abandoning the idea of becoming an ISIS member, he accepts the test, blowing up the respective objectives but he kills himself in the process. Should I feel sorry for the dumbass recruit? NO. If you feel sorry for Cherish then I don't have any problem at all. You're free to even like her, I don't judge people preferences But I hold no pity towards her. I'll change my mind only if she'll decide- willingly and not forced by someone- to help UT against S9. Then I'll say that she wants to change and be a better person.

Yes, I can agree with you here about Tattletale, she really can't control herself as she have to tattle and tattle and tattle, no matter the consequences, but she tried to make the situation better for UT by pitting S9 against each other. That was a good strategy, the problem is that she didn't know that Jack already knew about Cherish's plans. So, she failed, BUT she won elsewhere, convincing Bonesaw to change their testing method, making it more fair for everyone involved. Jack isn't sure yet if he wants to accept or not, but I'm sure that if he really cares about Bonesaw as it seems, then he'll listen to her. I'm still not sure if he have paternal feelings for her or if he's just very proud of her work, but its obviously that he's listening her with some decisions. I won't be surprised if the real leader of S9 will turn to be Bonesaw. Maybe she did something to get Jack under her control and make him let her take all important decisions. Since she can create powers- stripping parasites and safeguards who can protect a person from emotion manipulation, then I won't be surprised at all if she can create a parasite who allow its host to be mind controlled and implanted it in Jack.

I do not like Cherish, but it's about basic empathy.
Ha, it's ironic because she has emotional powers.
I would not say that Lisa is an angel with a golden heart, she is not as bad as others, but she and the undersiders, are still villains, if we are going to ignore the crimes of someone just because we like them, well ...
Before you say that they have had a horrible and traumatic past, and that they are your favorites, the truth is that circumstances made them as they are now, but the same can be said of everyone else, you can judge a life above the others? Yes, you can. But is it right?
I'm not saying they're bad people, most of them (Lisa, Taylor, Brian ... maybe Aisha) do what they do because they think it's the right thing, others (Regent and Rachel) have had it wrong, and they make others have a bad time, without worrying about what others feel.
In that aspect, and many others, Fautline and her crew are superior.
So ... be very careful, seriously, many bad things are going to happen in this season.

blackarrow · Jun 17, 2018

rafuki22 said:
I do not like Cherish, but it's about basic empathy.
Ha, it's ironic because she has emotional powers.
I would not say that Lisa is an angel with a golden heart, she is not as bad as others, but she and the undersiders, are still villains, if we are going to ignore the crimes of someone just because we like them, well ...
Before you say that they have had a horrible and traumatic past, and that they are your favorites, the truth is that circumstances made them as they are now, but the same can be said of everyone else, you can judge a life above the others? Yes, you can. But is it right?
I'm not saying they're bad people, most of them (Lisa, Taylor, Brian ... maybe Aisha) do what they do because they think it's the right thing, others (Regent and Rachel) have had it wrong, and they make others have a bad time, without worrying about what others feel.
In that aspect, and many others, Fautline and her crew are superior.
So ... be very careful, seriously, many bad things are going to happen in this season.

I have empathy only for innocent people or people who are not as bad/stupid as Cherish. I can't have empathy for a killer who waste her life by becoming something more evil than anything else: a S9 member. If she was forced to become a candidate (like all others) they I would have felt sympathy for her. But everything that happened to her was by her own hand. And I don't care that much about someone's sad past. Yes, I felt bad for Rachel, Alec and Cherie's past. But, Rachel became a better person (as good as she can be in her condition) by becoming part of Undersiders, a relative tame group compared with others. She feels bad for many things that she did, including betraying Taylor, which was a very good thing coming from her. Now she kind of wants to take S9 tests but I'm sure that after she saw what happened to Cherish she'll change her mind. And anyway, she was forced to be a candidate, it wasn't up her choice. Her only mistake is that she didn't told her teammates about the recruitment. Alec had a sad childhood but he choose a better life for himself by becoming an Undersider and not a S9 member. Hannah's life was pure HELL, worse than anyone else (a child trapped in an endless was who saw her friends getting killed in front of her and who always had to hide so her enemies won't find her) yet she became a heroine, not a ruthless killer. Cherie's life was also sad, but instead of choosing to become a better person she choose to become someone worse and to make other people's lives a hell. I don't judge people after their sad backstories, I judge them after their choices they make. And I'll always, always JUDGE people like Cherie for their choices. Yes, for me its fair to judge a life above the others. As long as that life belongs to "people" like Coil, Cherish, 98% S9 members, Heartbreaker, Emma, then I will judge it and I'll want punishment for them. As worse as possible. I describe myself as a good person (maybe some people have other opinions about me but I don't really care, everyone is free to think as they like) but I can't be good with evil people. If I had the power, I'd punish them according to their deeds. I'm more like Punisher than Spiderman when it comes to idea of justice. Spiderman would have spare his foes because he values each life, no matter how bad it is, but Punisher would have shoot them between their eyes because he values the lives of innocents over everything else. Just like me. As for Undersiders, they're villains, yes, and they have some bad traits, yes, and 2 of them were criminals, yes, but they're not evil people, people who can't be redeemed or people who pray on innocent persons. Alec and Rachel are exceptions but even they are not so bad compared with "people" like Fenrir's Chosen, Merchants or S9. Plus Taylor and Lisa actively try to save Dinah. Evil people won't care to put their lives in danger to save an innocent girl. Brian wants a better life for his sister. Its a noble thing for him to do and at least he never killed or permanently injured innocent people/heroes. Travelers are more complicated because I don't know much about them but Marissa and Noelle seem like genuinely good persons, especially Marissa. Ballistic held back when they fought against Wards, despite being very capable to hurt them. Krouse is the worst out of them, but even he have his few moments of goodness, especially towards Noelle. Indeed, Faultline's Crew's people are the kindest and friendliest villains, I have to agree with you here.
All in all, everyone is free to judge/like what they want.

Lisafication · Jun 17, 2018

no spoilers includes no hints

rafuki22 said:
So ... be very careful, seriously, many bad things are going to happen in this season.

I'll remind you that the thread policy at the bottom of the page, just above the reply box, says: "No posting spoilers, even in spoiler boxes. Also, no hinting."

Please refrain from doing so in the future, and do check for thread policies before you reply to a thread. A Staff Notice has been logged against your account to remind you of this.

rafuki22 · Jun 17, 2018

Stormwhite said:
[warning=No spoilers includes no hints]

I'll remind you that the thread policy at the bottom of the page, just above the reply box, says: "No posting spoilers, even in spoiler boxes. Also, no hinting."

Please refrain from doing so in the future, and do check for thread policies before you reply to a thread. A Staff Notice has been logged against your account to remind you of this.
[/Warning]

I am sorry.

But it was obvious.

fabledFreeboota · Jun 17, 2018

blackarrow said:
Never heard about American Psycho but it looks like its a book/movie about a wealthy serial killer. I must read this book. Thank you.

The point of it is that it shows Jack as a little petty. The film's message is ultimately about the emptiness of the violence but its remembered for the scenes that glorify it, and for the far worse crime of getting people to listen to Huey Louis and the News.

Higure · Jun 17, 2018

official staff communication Please be extremely careful when discussing future events, even obliquely. Alluding to things yet to come, even without directly describing them, can serve to confirm a reader's suspicions and theories inadvertently.

blackarrow · Jun 18, 2018

Hi, friends, this is a Chapter that is going to keep me on the edge from the start to the finish 12.05 | Worm Why? Because this might be the last Chapter where Danny Hebert will appear. He can die, he can die anytime, even if his daughter is running to save him and I have to take goodbye from him.

And I can imagine that if he'll die for real, Taylor will become insanely vengeful (but first she'll blame herself because she couldn't saved him) and the whole S9 test-battle will become her personal vendetta. She'll not stop until she'll find a way to kill them before they'll leave the City. This is how I'm imagining the events after Danny's possible death. Last Chapter was pretty fun and exciting (everytime when S9 make their unfortunate-for-everyone-else appearance, the respective Chapter become suddenly exciting

. Well, with the exception of Mannequin. If the Mannequin appears then the Chapter becomes hellish creepy). So, last Chapter was fun UNTIL two very sad things happened: Tattletale was hurt and the City is under attack. I think I will read the actual Chapter while listening this song . Can't find a better song than this one

.

I could kill them right now.

It would be so easy. Jack, Bonesaw and Cherish were all in my range. I could drop poisonous spiders on them, sting them each with dozens of bees and wasps in the hopes of provoking anaphylactic shock. It would be easy, and I might save the world by doing it. I'd get revenge for the countless people they'd murdered, for their attacking Tattletale, and maybe even save hundreds of people's lives by distracting Shatterbird.

NO. Don't think like that, Skitter. That would be your biggest mistake. Maybe you'll manage to kill Cherish and Jack but Bonesaw might be immune to your power, Siberian will kill you, then run away with Bonesaw and Cherish/Jack's bodies then the child mad scientist will manage to revive Jack and Cherish in her secret lab. So, its not going to work. You're going to doom everyone if you'll try to kill them. A revived Jack will be unstoppable in his vendetta against the person who killed him and the people she's close to. If you want to have the entire S9 destroyed, you have to either kill Bonesaw (or find a way to make her redeem herself by turning against her group) and especially KILL Siberian, the most powerful member. Otherwise, nothing else will work.

But I wouldn't be able to kill Siberian. She'd fought Alexandria, Legend and Eidolon at the same time and walked away unscathed. She hadn't been able to hurt them due to her inability to fly, but she'd still survived. If I attacked Jack, she would come after me and

I'd probably die. Would it even work? Bonesaw was a medical tinker. She could theoretically save all three of them. Then I'd accomplish nothing but getting the Nine pissed off at me.

YES, yes, this is how you should think, Skitter. Siberian is a god like powerhouse. As long as you don't know her vulnerabilities, you'll not stand any chance against her. Not you neither anyone else. Not even Triumvirate managed to defeat her and this says a lot. I have a theory that might or might not be true regarding Siberian. Please, don't laugh, its only a theory. As bad as it sounds, is MY theory and I'm proud of it.

SIBERIAN IS NOT A HUMAN. SHE'S A ROBOT. Not only because of her powers, but she never gets tired (she ran after Cherish for 3 days and 3 nights), she doesn't seem to eat or drink, she's emotionless (is immune at Cherish's control), her voice is a whisper (at least during her Interlude), she just gives me an impression of something artificial, without anything human inside. Its possible trhat she's a robot that S9 stole from a Tinker, after they killed them, and either Bonesaw or Mannequin learned how to control her. I was thinking that maybe she was build by Mannequin but even if he's a talented Tinker and he already created his half mannequin- half robot body of his, I don't think he was capable to build such a perfect robot as Siberian, because this is not his area of specialty (even if Bonesaw already demonstrated that she can create things outside of her specialty so I guess every Tinker can). But Siberian is so perfect in terms of technology that I think only a Tinker with a certain specialty in robots created her. Ok, this is my theory and I'll keep it until proved otherwise.

If it was just my life at stake, a part of me hoped I might do it anyways. But it wasn't. Others would pay the price if I got away from Siberian, and maybe even if I didn't. Even if I escaped and Siberian didn't get her hands on any of us, the added distraction and detours that came with evading her would probably mean I couldn't make it to my dad in time. And if I did die, Dinah might never go free. Which only led to the greater question: would I be willing to trade ten lives for the hundreds or thousands those members of the Slaughterhouse Nine might potentially kill if they walked away here? The billions, if Dinah's prediction about Jack came true?

I remembered what Brian had said back when we'd found out about Dinah: the choices we made in terms of who we tried to save: those we cared about versus complete strangers. I'd rebelled at the idea of people abandoning people to their fates simply because they didn't know them and weren't connected to them in any meaningful way.
But now that I faced having to make the call and decide if my life and the lives of just about everyone I cared about were worth less than everyone else's, it didn't seem so black and white.
The decision to attack and kill Jack and potentially sacrifice our lives in the process wasn't binary, I told myself. It wasn't limited to two options. I would try to save the people I could tonight. Then our teams could collectively prepare to do something about Jack and the other Nine, after we were all ready to defend ourselves. As much as a small part of me wanted to make the heroic sacrifice, I couldn't throw away my life for the mere chance to kill him, and I definitely couldn't throw away the lives of others.
The inch deep water splashed as I ran, my feet already sore from the impacts against the pavement. The soft soles of my costumed feet made me quieter when I walked, but it wasn't fit for running.
How much of my decision just now had been because I didn't want to kill a man?
I was indirectly responsible for the deaths of others. I'd looked at the information on the capes who'd died during Leviathan's attack and found Chubster, the fat man I'd failed to save. Innumerable others had died because we hadn't been able to stop Bakuda, giving her the chance to attack the city, killing forty-three people and inflicting horrific injuries on dozens more in the process. When Thomas, the man from the Merchants, had been bleeding to death, I'd given the order to leave him there to die.
There were others, too, I was sure. A part of me was horrified that I couldn't even keep track of it all.
At the very same time, another part of me was just as horrified at the idea that I might not have the ability to pull the trigger, to deliver the venomous payload or drive the knife home. So much could hinge on that.
I shook my head. No. I didn't want to dwell on the subject of murder. I had to save people.

"sighs" Everytime when Skitter starts talking like this, I feel a barely controllable need to BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF HER (finally, I can cuss now, no more Bonesaw around. Thanks God

). She's pushing herself constantly down even for the people who either deserved to die or she couldn't do anything to save them anyway. Thomas was an asshole who deserved to die, she couldn't save Chubster because a whole tsunami was coming after him, she couldn't kill Bakuda because she was too injured to do anything else besides stabbing her in her foot so NOTHING OF THESE was her fault ~~except for Mr Gladly that she purposely abandoned him to die~~. Stop blaming yourself for something that it was out of your control anyway. Also, call Sierra and Charlotte and tell them to evacuate your people. Because Miss The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music will kill them too. I wonder if Shatterbird can control silicon as well, because it is used to make glass (you can tell me, people, I won't consider it a spoiler

) Silicon is also used in computers and cellphones. If she can also control silicon, then the situation will be even worse than I expected. No more communications, no more information, even Dragon might have troubles.

The upper downtown area had no power, and it was just warm enough that people had their windows open to get some reprieve from the heat. That made it easier. I sent some bugs into every open window, using the roaches and flies that were already present when possible.

How many people did I have to reach? The buildings here were anywhere from six to twelve floors, and there were anywhere from one to six apartments to a floor. Less than half of the apartments were occupied following the evacuations, but it still made for hundreds of people on each city block.
I didn't slow my pace as I worked. Bugs swept over the surfaces of rooms for any smooth surfaces that indicated glass or mirrors. I checked bedside tables for eyeglasses and alarm clocks. If I found glass, a bed positioned too close to a window or mirror, something potentially dangerous on the bedside table or if there were enough attack bugs around, I attacked the residents. The bugs bit, stung, or momentarily smothered them, covering their noses and mouths, waking them.
Hundreds of people at a time.
It dawned on me as worked through each bedroom in each apartment: I doubted there were five other people in the world, cape or not, who could multi-task like I was. It had to be a side-benefit of my power. My consciousness divided a hundred ways, problem solving, performing complex tasks for a hundred different scenarios at once.
Once each person was awake, I had to warn them. But that wasn't simple – apartments without power didn't have light, either. For many, I could put the bugs on the window and spell out words with their silhouettes, but there were people with blinds and curtains that would obscure that. I forced myself to use the bug's sensory inputs, to seek out the biggest patches of light and warmth in each room where a person was being woken up, so the bugs could cluster in those spots and hopefully be seen.

But what could I write? I looked at my cell phone to see how much time I had left. For some, where I had enough bugs and space to write, I told the bugs to spell out 'Glass explosion 28 min'. For the places I didn't, I spelled out 'take cover' or 'hide under bed'.
Thousands of people, a thousand warnings. I couldn't be sure that everyone saw or listened and I couldn't hang back to make things clearer or pass on more detailed information. It was stupid and selfish, but I had to reach my dad. Not for any greater plan or for the greater good, but for me. Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't.
And even this, helping people here, striving to help my dad, wasn't the extent of my responsibility. I selected Sierra from my contact list and called her, trusting my bugs to give me a sense of anything I might run into or trip over while my eyes were on the screen.

Finally, she did what I wanted her to do. She contacted Sierra to ask her to take care of her people. If your minion will do a good job, you have to pay her even more than you're already paying her, Skitter. She'll surely deserve every dollar. And good idea about using your Swarm to warn people about The Sound of Music Reboot is happening in their City right after 28 minutes, with Shatterbird playing Maria (I wonder if there's fanart where this reference is made, or it is just me because I'm fascinated with this musical?)

"Yes?"

"Where are you?"
"Hospital with my parents and Bryce. You said I could have the night off, that you'd be busy."
I was short on breath from the running. "Emergency. Shatterbird's about to hit the city. Twenty-seven minutes. Warn the hospital,
now. Convince them."
"I'll try," she said. I hung up and dialed Charlotte.
"Skitter?"
"Twenty-seven minutes and change before Shatterbird hits the city with her power. Spread the word, fast. Avoid glass, take cover from a potential sandstorm."
"The Slaughterhouse Nine are here?"
"They've been here a little while. Go!"
"I don't… how? How do I tell everyone?"
"Tell as many people as you can, tell them to tell as many people as they can. Now go!" I hung up, to force her to move sooner and
because I couldn't spare the breath.
My range and fine control were extending. This not only kept the people behind me in my range for a precious few extra seconds, but it extended my range forward and to either side, adding one hundred people to the total who fell within my range. Soon that became two, three and four hundred more.

My legs burned, my feet throbbed, and I could feel sweat soaking the fabric of my costume where the water I was running through didn't. On one block, the water would be only a half-inch deep, but the next might prove to be nearly a foot in depth, adding extra resistance to each movement of my already complaining legs. The block after that, it could just as easily be a split-second decision between trying to make my way past the piles of rubble and parked cars and detouring to the next block over. Which would cost me more time?
If only Bitch and I were on better terms, maybe she could have explained about the Nine approaching her. If I could only trust her, if she could only trustme, I could have borrowed one of her dogs, and this wouldn't seem as impossible as it did now.
I made my way through the college area that was Regent's territory. The buildings here were in rougher shape. There were fewer people to warn, but they were harder to find. I used the bugs I could afford to check my way was clear. Five blocks ahead of me, I could feel the presence of construction equipment, of temporary fencing and barricades.
Chancing a look at my phone, I felt a chill. Time had flown while I'd worked, my attention elsewhere. I had eleven minutes, and I wasn't close enough. I couldn't afford to take a detour.
I threw every bug that wasn't warning someone at the fencing, flying insects gripping the thin metal bars, crawling insects swarming at and under the concrete pads beneath each post. Tens of thousands of bugs gathering together to surge forward as a single mass. I tried pushing, pulling, trying to rock it and build enough momentum with the bugs to bring it down.

I wonder why the protectorate didn't warned people that S9 are in their City. They warned them during Leviathan's attack, but they didn't do anything when a whole group as dangerous as an Endbringer entered the City. Stupid utterly non-sense from them. You know that S9 will kill countless of people, you should warn them to protect themselves as best as they can- either by leaving the City, hiding in their homes and run away everytime when they notice a S9 member in their proximity. If I'd have lived in that City and the local Protectorate wouldn't let me know that some sick fucks are hunting down citizens, I would have been so freaking pissed on heroes.

My bugs hadn't managed to push it over by the time I reached the fence. It had been designed to withstand strong winds, and the concrete feet at the base of each pole gave it too much stability. As I got there, I had to stop running for the first time, panting for breath. My fingers clutched the grid of fine metal wire until it hurt.

The thin metal wire pressed hard against the deep tissue of my gloved fingers as I climbed the fence, while my toes scrabbled for a hold on the metal hinge that divided one section of fence from another. Precious long seconds, maybe a minute or two and I knew I'd have to get by the fence on the far side as well. I wobbled on top of the fence and then hopped down with a splash. I was running again the second I had my feet under me.
Why wasn't I stronger? My disappointment in my luck and the power it had given me was an almost physical pain. I could warn people, but I couldn't push down a fence. I felt cheated.
I managed to squeeze between the edge of the second fence and the neighboring building. My phone showed the time as 12:33 at night. I had seven minutes. Something as stupid as fences had cost me so much time.
That doubt and fear that had rested with me the second I'd realized how far I'd need to travel in this short span of time was crystallizing into a dawning realization that I wasn't going to make it.
The window of opportunity for getting to the house and getting my costume off and getting dad somewhere safe was long gone. Even the window for doing all of that without taking the time to get my costume off was long past. I was too far away.
That left only one option. Could I save him with my power the same way I'd been trying to do with everyone else that fell in my range? I still needed to get closer, fast.
I held my phone in one hand, sneaking glances as I made my way from one block to the next. The six-minute mark came all too fast. The clock on my cell phone ticked to 12:36. Four minutes left. Three.

Then I couldn't look anymore. I threw it aside, trusting my bugs to nudge it into a storm drain where it wouldn't be found. The time wasn't exact; I couldn't be sure exactly how much time had passed since Jack had told us about Shatterbird's attack. I couldn't say if Shatterbird's clock was a few minutes fast or a few minutes late. There was no point on dwelling on the final minutes, and keeping my cell phone on me was dangerous.

That, and I wasn't sure I could bear to watch the clock hit zero.
I heard sirens nearby. Not just from one vehicle, but several, all getting closer.
I could sense my neighborhood, and the black widows that were still where I'd put them. Every step brought more bugs into my focus.
Ants beneath people's lawns, earthworms in gardens, pillbugs and earwigs under stones and objects in garages and carports, cockroaches in the darkest corners of cabinets. I woke the people I could and left them their warnings.
I knew the time had to have run out. But I was so close. I could sense the block my house was on, the neighbor's house.
And then my dad's house. I dropped onto my hands and feet the second I was in range, my legs aching.
My bugs swept over the interior. I knew the layout, so it was quick. Dad was in his bed, bundled up in the covers. He was taking up only one side of the bed, leaving the space that mom had once occupied empty. It was like a punch in the gut, a reminder of how alone he was. How alone I had left him.
I needed more bugs to wake him, still more to write a message. I began drawing them up to his bedroom.
I might not have noticed it if I hadn't been listening through the bugs. I primarily heard it through the moths and beetles, a sound like someone running their finger along the rim of a wine glass, painful to hear, only it kept getting sharper and higher pitched until it was well beyond the limits of anything my human ears could hear. It was coming from the windows.
There were enough bugs in place to wake up my dad. I could have disturbed him from his sleep… but would he react fast enough to any message I left? Or would he sit up and put his head and upper body in harm's way of the windows?

Oh, God, the movie is starting, the movie is goddamn STARTING. You saved plenty of people and I'm sure your minions saved all the people in your territory as well. If you start blaming yourself again, calling yourself incompetent or evil, I'm gonna hate you, Skitter. Because I dislike people who always put themselves down even if they're doing better than anyone else. I have a feeling that this is not Danny's last Chapter. I think you can save him, Skitter. I BELIEVE you're going to save him, now that you so close...You can try to wake him up with your bugs and he'll be smart enough to know that he have to run away from windows and electronics. He already knows that S9 are in the City so it would be impossible for him to not understand what is going on. Just write: Shatter glass- and he'll understand.

I couldn't risk it. Instead, I took the bugs near him and threw them against his alarm clock, a miniaturized version of what I had attempted to do with the temporary fence. It was thin, a tilted capital 'L' shape with a digital display.

I pulled my knees up against my face and my hands up around the back of my head to shield myself where my mask didn't have coverage.
The alarm clock was in the midst of tipping over when Shatterbird used her power.
It was as though the glass broke in response to some invisible tidal wave, caught in the nonexistent 'water', carried along, shattering on impacts with surfaces, slashing anything that would cut, piercing deep into any surface soft enough. I could feel it roll past me, south to north.
Loud.
The sound seemed to come a second later, like the sonic boom following a jet. I'd halfway expected a boom, but it sounded more like a heavy impact, as loud and powerful as a bullet the size of the moon striking the city, followed by the sound of trillions of glass shards simultaneously falling like rain across the cityscape. There was a cloud to the east, where the beaches were, reaching up to the cloud level, like some pale wall.
The moment I was sure it was over, I was on my feet, running around the back to the kitchen door. I tore off my mask as I made my way there, and some bugs helped guide my hand to the latch as I reached through the broken window of the kitchen door and opened it. I tore at the straps connecting my armor to my back as I ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, pulled the zipper down as I ran down the hallway. Getting my arms free of the sleeves, I tied the inside-out arms around my waist. It wasn't nearly enough to seriously hide my costumed identity, but I wasn't about to delay for another second.
I pulled open his bedroom door and hurried to his side, glass crunching under my feet. I gingerly peeled away the layers of blankets that had draped over my dad as he was thrown from the bed.
So much blood. Two thirds of his face was covered in blood that looked more black than red in the gloom. Darker lines marked where the blood was welling from. Cuts across the side of his head, the edge of his forehead, his temple and cheek. His ear had been almost cut in half.
There was a rattling from the window. I looked and saw strips of shredded duct tape. It looked like the tape had been taped around the edges, then taped in an asterisk-like pattern.
He'd taken my warning seriously.
I investigated further. More blood at the back of his head. Had the glass penetrated into his brain? No, I could feel the edges of the glass. It had stopped at his skull, maybe splintered under the surface of his skin. I had no way of telling.
His hands fumbled blindly for my wrists, seized them. He couldn't see me with the blood in his eyes. That fact didn't make me happy or relieved in the slightest, however it might have kept him from discovering my costumed identity.
"Taylor?"
"I'm here. Don't move too much. I'm going to see what I can do."

Danny is injured so badly

. This is the saddest thing that happened during this Arc. But at least he's alive. All thanks to YOU, Taylor, Brockton Bay's most precious heroine. Also, a lot of people will live because YOU saved them. Quickly, forget the first aid, Taylor, call Coil and ask him to send his doctors (because I know that the normal doctors are too busy now with so many injured patients). Coil might be an asshole as big as S9, but at least he needs you and he won't let your father die as long as he NEEDS YOU. As for Shatterbird, she SUCKS as Maria. This is not her best role, she's such a bad actress that I'm going to be so freaking HAPPY if Alec will get control over her and teach her how to be a better actress using his own methods.

For hurting/killing so many innocents+ for hurting Danny while she tried to play a role in a musical, she deserves to become a puppet for the rest of her miserable and talentless life.

"Are you okay?"

"Not even scratched."
I could see him sagging with relief.
"You were right," he said. He tried to stand, and I pushed him back down.
"Stay still," I said. "At least until we can be sure there's nothing more serious."
"Right," he mumbled. "You took that first aid class."
More glass had penetrated his blankets and sheets. There were holes in his back, his arm and shoulder. All bled, but none seemed to have hit any arteries, gushing or releasing copious amounts of blood. It was still far more blood loss than I would have liked – his undershirt was turning crimson.
I climbed over him, glass stabbing my palm as I put a hand on the ground for balance. I wanted a closer look at his back. Had anything hit his spine? Fuck. There was one hole close to the spine, around the same distance down as his belly button.

"Can you move your toes?"
There was a pause. "Yes."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Then the next biggest issue is possible internal bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital."
"They hit the entire city?"
"I think so," I told him. No use letting on exactly how much I knew. It would only cause the both of us more distress in the long run.
"The hospitals will be overcrowded."
"Yeah. But not going isn't an option."
"Okay," he said. "I'll need my sandals, downstairs."
I was using my power to find them by the time I was standing again. I found something else. There were people in our kitchen.
The Slaughterhouse Nine? Had they followed me here?
My dad was unable to see, thanks to the blood. I drew my bugs together into a cluster, hid them in the folds of my costume, which I had tied around my waist. I crossed the hall to my room and found a pair of loose-fitting cargo pants from when I'd had a bit of a belly and a wider waistband. I zipped up the pants and tied a sweatshirt around my waist to hide the rest of my costume. I could sense them approach. One of them waved at a fly that flew too close to their head. Both were men.
Floorboards creaked as they ascended the stairs.
"Hello?" one of them called out. I tensed. I didn't recognize the voice. They were right by my dad's bedroom. I heard my dad respond and swore under my breath.

I think the two newcomers are Coil's doctors because I remember that before Skitter left, Grue said that he'll contact Coil. Danny will be fine because the doctors will take good care of him. Thank you, Coil you asshole, for taking care of your henchpeople. Now I wonder if Taylor will go with her father to the secret hospital (or anywhere Coil's doctors are treating their patients) or she'll go to check on her people. If I were in her place, I'd go with my father and call Charlotte to see how my people are doing. But I'm not her and knowing her, she'll decide that she should go to her territory. She's going to abandon poor, poor Danny again, right?

My knife was still strapped in against the back of my costume, which dangled around my knees. I bent down and drew it from beneath my sweatshirt.

Voices. One of them murmured something, and my dad replied. I couldn't make out anything in terms of the words or the tone of what they were saying.
Quietly, aiming each footstep to avoid the worst patches of broken glass, I stepped from my bedroom, my knife held low and ready.
Two paramedics were working together to shift my dad onto a stretcher. I hurried to put the knife away.
One noticed me. "Miss? You're alright?"
"I'm fine."
"This your dad?"
"Yeah."
"We're going to take him to the hospital. Mind making sure our way out is clear? Maybe open the front door for us?"
"Okay."
I felt like a machine, clumsy, almost emotionless, as I led them out of the house. There were two other ambulances parked in places I
could see. None had windshields, mirrors or headlights. The explosion had blown out the flashing lights and whatever system had handled the sirens.
It didn't fit. The timing of this, their preparedness.
But they didn't look like any members of the Nine I knew. I could see one of the paramedics down the street – she was black. So it wasn't the Chosen, either. Merchants wouldn't be this organized or devious.
I reminded myself of where my knife was, in case I needed to draw it at a moment's notice.
The two paramedics began loading my dad into the back.
"Can I ride along?" I asked one, the second they were done.
He looked at me, then grabbed something large, black and irregularly shaped from a pocket beneath the stretcher. Holding it in one
hand, he put one hand on my shoulder and led me a short distance away. My heart rate tripled. My gut was telling me they weren't
normal paramedics, and this was the moment I found out just how.
"Here," he pressed a bundle into my hands. It was large, bulky, and there were hard bits beneath the cloth. "You don't want to leave this behind."
I peeked at the contents of the bundle, then swallowed hard. It was my mask and the back sheath of my armor with the stuff inside.
In my haste, I'd torn them off and left them where they fell.

"You're with Coil?" I asked. I felt a quiet horror at the realization that Coil would now know who my dad was, and who I was by proxy.
He nodded once. "More specifically, your teammates sent us. They'd hoped we would pick you up and drive you here, but we weren't able to find you, and we were delayed because we had to take safety measures first." He looked towards the van. I realized he was talking about the removal of the glass.
Relief surged through me, and I felt tears welling up.
That relief proved short-lived.
"Our employer feels there's very little you'll be able to do with your father here, and quite a bit you could do elsewhere. He did say he understands if you want to prioritize your family."
My eyes widened in understanding. Coil wanted me to attend to my territory, now, in this moment of crisis. "He wants me to leave my dad?"
It might as well have been a rhetorical question. The paramedic didn't respond. I felt my heart sink.
"We'll give him the best care we can," he said.
I turned and climbed into the ambulance. My dad was gingerly dabbing at one of his eyes with a wet cloth. I was pretty sure he didn't see me.
I bent over him and kissed him on the corner of his forehead, in a spot where the blood didn't cover his face. He snapped his head up to look at me. The white of one of his eyes had turned crimson, the green of his iris pale in the midst of it.
"I love you dad," I said, then I backed away a step.
"Stay," he said. "Please."
I shook my head.
I stepped back once again, and then hopped down from the back of the ambulance, turning away.
"Taylor!"
Always like this, now. Always walking away, knowing how much it hurt him. I blinked more tears out of my eyes.
"You make sure he's alright," I ordered the paramedic, ignoring another of my father's shouts.
The man nodded. "I can tell him we aren't allowing ride-alongs, just in case we need more bodies in the back."
"Thank you."
My power buzzed at the edge of my consciousness as I turned my back on the scene.
Fuck all of this. Fuck the Nine. Fuck Shatterbird. Fuck Jack. Fuck Leviathan. Fuck Coil. Fuck Hookwolf.
Fuck me, most of all.

"sighs" I was right about knowing Taylor very well. She'll rather abandon her father than the people in her territory. Well, her people are injured and scared and they need to be checked on, but..."sighs" She's so different compared to Grue (and me). Grue would have stay by his sister's side, while Taylor..Alright, let's say that if she doesn't show Coil that she can protect and help her people, she'll never be able to save Dinah and I can understand this+ she might genuinely care about their safety and well-being, which is admirable. Besides, Danny have plenty of very competent doctors around him, ready to take care of all his needs. He'd be fine. Tattletale will also be fine. But Shatterbird won't be fine if Regent will have his way with her and this thought makes me VERY JOYFUL

.
Taylor, you forgot to say: FUCK THE FLOATING SPACE ABSTRACT CREATURES because they're the ones who gave people these fucked up powers. The world would have been a better place without super-powers.

(the original fan art Taylor Hebert-Pest Control)
TAYLOR IN A NUTSHELL.

See you later, my friends.

blackarrow · Jun 18, 2018

Hi, my friends, after the whole HELL OF A RUNNING from the last Chapter, maybe this new Chapter will be less nerve-wracking and more calm, even if I highly doubt about 12.06 | Worm I have a confession to make: Taylor is a real inspirational person. Thanks to her, I started to run for 10- 15 minutes every freaking day. She inspired me to run so I can become a more healthy and resistant person. Taylor isn't only a life savior, but also she's a life changer. There are basically two things that changed in my life by reading Worm: I'm running each day

and I'm more afraid by mannequins than I was before

. Worm changes people. In a way or another. Its like a passage of life. So, during this Chapter, Taylor will play as doctor for her people. She'll show them that she's the best Lady of Crime they can possible hope for. I wonder what happened to people in other territories. I don't want to imagine how hurt Rachel will be if she'll return to Wolf Lair and find her dogs being injured by glass or even worse. If she didn't hated S9 before then she'll hate them after Shatterbird's musical show attempt.

I never thought I'd be thankful in any way that Leviathan had trashed my hometown. Leviathan's tidal waves had shattered many of the windows and the residents had put plywood, plastic and boards up in their wake. It meant there was less material for Shatterbird to use against us. Countless people had been spared from injury and death due to Shatterbird's glass shards because Leviathan had gotten to us first.
But even without the glass, there was still sand.
I stepped out of the way as a trio of people moved down the street, supporting each other as much as they were able. Each of them had been blasted by the sand, their skin left ragged. It had turned a bruised combination of black brown and purple where it hadn't been scraped off and left raw, red and openly bleeding. One looked as though he'd been blinded. The sandburns covered his upper face.
Two ambulances had stopped at an intersection just a block away from where I had announced my claim of territory. At a glance, I could tell that they'd had all mirrors removed and all glass stripped from the dash, doors and windshield. Those that had emerged from their homes and shelters were gravitating towards the ambulances. There was still dust settling on the streets, and I could taste it thick in the air, even through my mask. I wondered if we needed to be getting masks out to people. It couldn't be healthy.
Heads turned as I approached. I'd put my costume on again, and I had a swarm of bugs following in my wake, giving me more presence. When people were this hurt and scared, it didn't take much to tap into that primal part of their psyches and intimidate them just a little.
Surveying the scene, I could already tell there were going to be issues.
Hundreds, thousands of hurt people, many in critical or potentially critical shape, there were only two ambulances here, and the hospitals would be overcrowded. People were going to panic when they realized that they wouldn't necessarily get help. They would get upset, even angry. This already unstable situation would descend into all-out chaos.

I told them I'd protect them, but there was no stopping this.
I wasn't on my game. My thoughts were on Dad and on Tattletale, not on these people and all the factors that I was supposed to take into account. But I didn't have a choice.
I gave the order, and my swarm spread out, flowing through the crowd. It was enough bugs to get people's attention. I just hoped the benefits of having the bugs there would outweigh any fear or discomfort the bugs generated.
Using the bugs I'd spread around the area, I augmented my voice, allowing it to carry. "The most important thing is to remain calm."
More people turned toward me. I stepped closer to the ambulances, where paramedics were working with some of the most critical cases. I felt like a charlatan, a pretender. The look of mixed fear and incredulity from the paramedics didn't help. Still, someone had to take control and organize before people started lashing out, and the city's heroes were apparently occupied elsewhere.
"I don't intend you any harm," I reassured them. "If you're unhurt and able-bodied, there are people who need your help. Step forward so I can direct you to them."

I know what Skitter is doing. She's trying to make less injured people helping the most injured ones, which is a very good idea. The doctors can't help everyone, volunteers are very important in chaotic situations like this one. It looks like Charlotte and Sierra did a pretty good job with protecting as many people as they could and contacting the doctors. I'm starting to like these 2 girls quite a lot

. Good to see non-powered people who can be so helpful and useful. You don't need super-powers to do something good.

Silence and stillness stretched on for long seconds. I could see people who had no visible injuries, who were staring at me, unwilling to respond to my appeal. Generally speaking, the types of people who lived in the Docks weren't the sort who were used to being neighborly, to putting society's needs above their own.
Fuck me. My head wasn't in the right place. I'd forgotten. I'd been taught in the first aid classes you had to be direct and specific when dealing with people in a crisis. Asking for help was begging for disappointment, because people would hesitate to step forward, or assume that someone else would handle the job. Instead of asking for help, we were supposed to single someone out of the crowd of bystanders and give them a clear, identifiable task. Something along the lines of, 'You in the red shirt, call nine-one-one!'

And now that I'd fucked that up, I'd entrenched them. The status quo was now quickly becoming 'not listening to the supervillain', and it would be twice as hard to get them to go against the rest of the herd.
Which left me three unpleasant options. The first option was that I could abandon that plan, look weak, and lose standing in the eyes of everyone present. Alternately, I could speak up again, appeal to their humanity, beg, plead, demand, praying all the while for someone to come forward. That was the second choice, and it would make me look even worse to everyone watching, with only a miniscule chance of success.
The silence stretched on. I knew it had only been five or six seconds, but it felt like a minute.
The third of my ugly options? I could make them listen. Goad them into action with threats and violence. It meant I risked provoking the same sort of chaos and violence I was hoping to combat, but I suspected that chance was relatively minor. I could get people to do what I needed them to do. I'd maybe earn their respect, but I'd probably earn their enmity at the same time.
Could I do this? Could I become the bully, even if it was for the greater good? I was going to hate myself for doing it, but I'd left my dad behind to be here. I wasn't about to fail.
"Alright," I said, sounding calmer than I felt. My fist clenched at my side.
I hesitated. Someone was approaching. I felt them passing through the bugs I'd dispersed through the crowd. Charlotte.

Oh, God, Skitter, please, don't mention the RED shit. You know what's happening with the RED shirts, I hope you have never seen at least a couple of Start Trek episodes. Btw, if there any RED shirt in the City who survived during and after the Bloody Sound of Music? There's another option, Skitter. You can convince Charlotte to talk to people in your name and convince them to help each others. Since they don't know that she's your henchwoman, maybe they'll see her as someone of them and listen her. Maybe she'll fail, but at least she can try.

"You're not wearing your mask," I said, the second she was close enough to hear me, my voice quiet. "Or the paper cube."
"The cube got crushed when I was helping someone. I was glad you didn't use your power," she said. Then, loud enough that some people nearby could hear her, she asked me, "What can I do?"
I owe her one hell of a favor.
I'd had my bugs sweeping through nearby buildings since I'd arrived. I hadn't really stopped, even after I got home. I had found several of the wounded. A man lying prone, two kids huddled near their mother. The mother's face was sticky with blood, her breathing quick. The children were bleeding too. I could sense a man stumbling blindly through what had been his home, hands to his face.
I almost sent her after the blind man, but reconsidered.
I pointed at a warehouse, and spoke loud enough for others to hear, "There's a woman and two little kids in there, you won't be able to help them alone." Which was a large part of why I had chosen them.
I spotted a twenty-something guy with an impressive bushy beard and no shirt. Aside from one cut on his stomach and some smaller patches of shredded skin where the sand had caught him in the back, he seemed to be in okay shape. "You. Help her."
He looked at the older woman beside him. His mother? She was clearly hurt, and had the remains of two or three white t-shirts bundled around her arm. It was clear the limb had been caught by the sand; it looked like a mummy's arm, only bloody. Anticipating an excuse on his part, I pointing to the nearest group of injured and told him, "They'll look after her. There are people who need you more. Second floor. Go."
He looked at his mother, and the look she gave him was answer enough. He helped her hobble over to the group of people I'd indicated, leaving her in their care, and joined Charlotte in running for the warehouse where the woman and kids were.

Now I just had to keep my momentum.
"You and your friend," I spoke to a middle-aged guy and his buddy. "There's a guy slowly bleeding out in the factory there. Go help him."

Charlotte, you're an ANGEL. Thank you, thank you for thinking to help Skitter with her people without her asking you this. You're a smart and caring person, my jewish fellow

. I know that you didn't helped Taylor back at school, but I can understand that you're so afraid of becoming the next target of Emma's bullying that you weren't brave enough to confront her. I can understand and forgive you. What it matters is what you're doing now, helping Skitter with everything she needs. I think its part of your remorse for what happened in the past and part of you genuinely wanting to help her/other people. Also, glad to see Skitter helping children first. Exactly what I'd have done in her place.

The second that passed before they moved to obey left my heart pounding.
I turned to the next person and stopped. He was one of the few people with actual bandages on his wounds, and he stood near his family. Even with the gauze pads strapped to his face, I recognized him from earlier. Or, to be specific, I recognized the little boy R.J., and I knew this man as his father, patriarch of the rat infested house from early in the day.
"There's a blinded man in the brick building over there," I told him, facing him squarely. "Go help him."
"Why?" he challenged me, his voice gruff, his gaze hard. "I'm hurt. If I go, I'm going to miss my turn with the ambulances."
Asshole. There wasn't even a shred of gratitude for what I'd done to help him and his family, and he didn't even seem to need his turn at the ambulance that badly either. I had to resist the urge to hit him or set my bugs on him.
Worse, I couldn't help but feel like he was seeing through the image I was trying to portray. Seeing the girl behind the mask, who was just trying to pretend she knew what she was doing.
I turned to the next person, a solidly built woman with scratches and the sandburns I was quickly coming to recognize all over her face.
She had even taped half of a sanitary pad over one eye. It wasn't my brightest move, but I asked her, "Are you going to whine like a little girl, too, if I ask you to help someone?"
She smiled a little and shook her head.
"Good. Go. Left side of the building. He's blind, and there's nobody else there to help. I think he might have inhaled sand, he's coughing pretty violently. Don't push him to move too fast or too much. Take your time walking him back, if the bleeding isn't too severe."
She obeyed, moving off with a powerful stride. When I looked, R.J.'s dad was gone. He was stomping off toward the ambulances, keeping the crowd between us, dragging his wife at his side with R.J. hurrying to keep up. Knowing how angry he was, I had to hope he wasn't the type to take out his anger on his family. I didn't want to be indirectly responsible for their pain.

There were more people to pick out of the crowd, more orders to give. It was all about setting them up so that refusal made them look bad, both to themselves and to others. Social pressure.
By the time I'd sent two more groups, some of the others were coming back to be directed to the next few injured. I gave them their orders.
Which only raised the greater problem. How were we supposed to handle these people who were hurt and waiting their turn? They were scared and restless. That unease bled over into their friends, families and maybe their neighbors, who were scared for themselves and the people they cared about. Already, they were gathering around the ambulances, pleading for help from too small a group of people, who had their hands full saving others' lives. Some were simply asking the paramedics for advice while keeping a respectful distance, others were demanding assistance because they felt theirloved ones were more important than whoever was getting care or attention at that moment. The paramedics couldn't answer everyone.

Oh, no, is that FUCKASS again. That stupid dad who wanted to challenge Skitter at fight, despite her helping his family. And now he refused to help people and ran away like a fucking COWARD. I'm not even going to call him head of family. A true head of family isn't a coward. I almost feel bad that he wasn't severely injured during the GlassApocalypse. I'm disgusted by people like him. At least, Skitter found someone hundreds of times more brave than the fuckass and willing to help with the injured. Not all people are monsters or cowards.

People in this area formed closely knit packs. They would step up to defend the people they cared about far more quickly and easily than they had with my appeal to help strangers just minutes ago. I didn't trust them to remain peaceful if this kept up.
What the hell was I supposed to do with them?
As lost as I felt in that moment, I managed to look calm. My bugs gave me an awareness of the situation, and my eyes swept over the scene to get a sense of the mood and what people were doing.
I spotted a mother picking at one of her son's wounds, and I realized what she was doing. I hurried to stop her. "What are you doing?"
Riding the highs and the lows of emotion from the past hour or two, I might have come across sounding angrier than I was. She quailed just a bit.
"He has glass in his arm."
He did. There were slivers of glass no longer than the nub of lead in an old-fashioned pencil, sticking out of his cuts.
"Those are probably okay to remove," I told her, "But avoid disturbing any close to the arteries, here, here and here."
"He doesn't have cuts there."
"Good," I told her. "But you should know for later, for when you're helping others."
She pointed at her leg. Sand had flayed the skin of her foot and calf and turned the muscle a dirty brown color. "I can't really walk."
"You won't need to."
A plan was coalescing in my mind. A way to give people something to do and give them some indication they'd eventually get help. The problem was, I needed materials to carry this out, and there wasn't much nearby. It meant I had to get the materials from my lair. I wasn't willing to leave for any length of time, though, and I didn't want to spare Charlotte, either.
I had to use my bugs. That wasn't so simple when the things I was retrieving weren't small.
I had a box of pens and markers in my room, for sketching out the costume designs. I also had first aid kits in my bedside table upstairs and in the bathroom on the ground floor. Bringing all of that stuff here meant opening the boxes and retrieving everything I needed, carting them here on a wave of crawling bugs, past puddles and flooded streets.
I collected markers, pens, bandages, ointments, iodine, candles and needles. Especially needles. Smaller bottles of hydrogen peroxide. At least, I hoped it was the iodine and hydrogen peroxide. I couldn't exactly read the labels. The bottle shapes felt right, anyways.
More people returned with the injured. I administrated my bugs while I gave new directions to the rescue parties.
Just carrying the things on a tide of bugs wasn't going to work. The crawling bugs couldn't pass through the water, and there was no way to have flying bugs carry things – too many of the objects were too heavy, even with the flying insects gathered on every inch of their surface and working in unison.
Minutes passed as I tried different configurations and formations of bugs, trying to wrangle things like the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide with my swarm.
Then I saw the woman with the maxi-pad eyepatch and a man of roughly the same age carting someone to the ambulance using a blanket attached to two broomsticks as a stretcher.
I could do the same thing. I called on my black widow spiders, drawing some out from the terrariums where I had them contained.
Wasps carted them to the necessary spots, and I had them spin their silk around the objects in question and tie that silk to the
necessary bugs. Silk looped around the neck of a marker, then around a series of roaches, who could then be assisted by other bugs. I
did the same for the other things, the iodine, markers, pens, candles and more.
When I was done, I called the swarm to me.

So, Skitter ran for 28 minutes to save her dad, she should be tired as fuck and sleep for days but right now she's using bugs to transport medicine to people and she also have great concentration over her power without breaking a sweat....Skitter, are you sure your real father is Danny? What if I told you that your real father is...
Scion, in a barely audible, alien voice: Taylor...Danny Hebert never told you what happened to your father?
Taylor: He is my father.
Scion: No, I'm your father.
Taylor: NOOOOOO!!!!
....this is exactly what I wanted to say but Scion was faster than me. Well, Taylor, you just meet your real father

.

I turned my attention to the injured who were clustering around the ambulances.

"Listen!" I called out, using my bugs to augment my voice. "Some of you have been picking the glass out of your skin! I understand it hurts, but you're slowing things down!"
I got some confused and angry looks. I held up my hand to forestall any comments or argument.
"Any paramedic, nurse or doctor that helps you has to make absolutely sure that you don't have any glass embedded deep in your body. I don't believe x-rays can detect glass-"
I paused as a paramedic snapped his head up to look at me. Okay, so I was wrong. I wished he hadn't reacted, though. People were paying attention to the paramedics, they'd noticed, and it wasn't critical that these people know the exact details of the treatment they'd get. If he'd just let me lie or be wrong, this would have gone smoother.
"Or at least, glass as fine as the shrapnel that hit you," I corrected myself.
A shrug and a nod from the paramedic. I got my mental bearings and continued, "If you're pulling the glass out of your cuts and wounds and you lose track of which ones you've tended to, they're going to have to explore the wounds to investigate, queue you up for x-rays and maybe even cut you open again later, after the skin has closed up, to get at any pieces they missed."
I could see uneasy reactions from the crowd. I raised my hand, just in time for the first of my swarm to arrive. I closed my hand around a pen as the cloud of airborne insects delivered it to me. They dispersed, and the pen remained behind.
"I'm going to give some of you pens and markers. We're going to have a system to make all of this easier on the doctors. Dotted lines around any injuries with glass sticking out. Circles around wounds where the glass may be deeper."
The paramedic waved me over. I moved briskly through the crowd to the stretcher.
"Tetanus," he said, when I was close enough. "We need to know if they've had their shots."
"They probably haven't," I replied, using my swarm to augment my voice, but not to carry it to the crowd.
"Probably not. But we have to ask, and time we spend asking is time we could spend helping them."
I grasped the hand of a grungy old man who stood next to me, stretching his arm out. "Have you had your shots?"
He shook his head.
I used the pen to draw a 'T' on the back of his hand, circled it and drew a line through it. I pressed the pen into the old man's hand,
"You go to people and ask them the same question. If they haven't had their shots, draw the same thing. If they have, just draw the T."

I'm amazed how Skitter manages to do everything in such a short time. If I were in her place....I'd have sleep for hours because of the fatigue. To my great shame :redface:

. Do you know what I'm afraid the most? For Shatterbird to make her apparition, flying and using the shards of glass from people's wounds to kill them by exploding them before they're pulled out. Imagine the kind of MASSACRE she'll do in Skitter's territory+ she'll completely destroy Skitter's reputation as her people's savior and any authority she have over them when the survivors will start blaming her because she didn't protected them as she promised. Shatterbird will bury under a tsunami of shards Skitter's dream to protect her people and be a perfect Crime Lady for Coil. That would be an unfortunate smart move of S9.

I saw a glimmer of confusion in his eyes. Was he illiterate? I turned his hand over and drew a capital 'T' on his palm.
"Like that, if they have had their shots" I said, raising his hand for people to see, then turned it around. "Like that if they haven't."
He nodded and took the pen, turning to the not-quite-as-old man beside him.
I addressed the crowd, "Remember, dotted line around the wounds if you can see the glass or if you're absolutely sure there's no glass in there, circle if you can't tell. Once you or someone else has drawn the dotted line, you can take out the glass if it's smaller than
your thumbnail. If it's bigger, try to leave it alone!"
"We need some elbow room," the paramedic told me. His blue gloves were slick with blood. People were standing within two or three feet of him, watching what he was doing, trying to be close enough to be the next to get help when he was done with his current patient.
That wasn't the limit of the potential patients, either: there were the injured that Charlotte and the others were retrieving. The people who hadn't been able to get here under their own power.
"We're changing locations," I called out. I could see them reacting to that, balking at the idea. "If you're able to stand, it's going to be a long time before you get the help you want. There's plenty more people with worse injuries. Suck it up!"
I waited for someone to challenge me on that. Nobody did.
"If you listen and cooperate you'll get the help you want sooner. We're going to gather inside the factory right here where we'll be clear of the worst of the dust. It's dry inside, and there's enough space for all of us."
It took some time for everyone to get moving, but they did. My bugs passed me some candles and a lighter and I started handing them out with the pens and markers. I followed the mass of people into the defunct factory that was next to the ambulances.
Sheets and cloths were pulled from machinery and laid atop boxes and on the ground, so people had places to sit and lie down. Gradually, people set about the process of marking the types of wounds and the presence of glass, buried or otherwise.

"Disinfectant?" a woman asked me.
I turned. She was older, in her mid-fifties, roughly my height, and she had a pinched face. "What about it?"
"You've been pulling things out of the clouds of flies," she told me, "Can you produce some disinfectant for us, or are you limited to art supplies and candles?"
I got the impression of a strict schoolteacher from her. The kind who was a hardass with even the good students and a mortal enemy to the poor ones.
I reached out my hand, and a portion of my swarm passed over it. Thanks to the fact that many of them were in contact with the bottle, it was easy enough to position my hand and know when to close it. The bugs drifted away, and I was left holding the three-inch tall bottle.
My theatrics didn't seem to impress her. Her tone was almost disparaging as she said, "Nobody uses hydrogen peroxide anymore. It delays recovery time."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," I said. "If the wounds heal over embedded glass, it'll be that much more unpleasant."
"Do you have medical training?" she asked me, her tone disapproving.
"Not enough, no," I said with a sigh. I had the swarm pass over my hand again, picking up the hydrogen peroxide and depositing another plastic bottle in its place. "Iodine?"
"Thank you," she said, in a tone that was more impatient than grateful. "We're going to need more than this."
"I'll see what I can do," I told her, trying not to sound exasperated.
She headed for a group of people and knelt by one of the wounded who was lying on a sheet. I could see her posture and expression soften as she talked to them. So she wasn't like that with other people.

That woman was kind of a jerk with Skitter, but at least she's willing to help people, unlike that fuckass of R.J.'s father. I'm still waiting anxiously here for Shatterbird's second demonstration of her acting skills. Well, I'm sure that glass will never affect in any way Skitter's costume, who is just as invulnerable at everything exactly like Siberian's skin is

. But everyone else will not be so lucky. Even people who doesn't have glass embedded in their bodies can be hurt by the additional glass that Shatterbird will bring with her.

Whatever. I'd been prepared to be hated when I committed to villainy.
I gathered all of the supplies I'd brought and sent more bugs out to scout for more.
What I wouldn't give for a working cell phone, to find out about how Tattletale was doing, even to ask after my dad. But cell phones had computer chips, and computer chips had silicon.
Everything that was electronic and more complicated than a toaster was probably fried, with exceptions for some tinker-made stuff.
There was no use dwelling on the fact that two people I cared about were gravely hurt. I couldn't do anything about it now, and time spent wondering was time I wasn't protecting and helping these people.

In terms of protecting these people, I spread my bugs out over every surface, until a potential threat wouldn't be able to take a step without killing one. It would serve as advance warning in case any members of Hookwolf's alliance came through to make trouble. I spread out some flying insects to try to detect airborne threats like Rune.

And so my assumption turned to be true. Unfortunately.

Shatterbird can affect silicon, destroying technology, especially computers and cellphones. Gosh, I think Dragon will be useless in a fight against S9, as long as Shatterbird is near. She can simply affect Dragon's Suits, by cutting Dragon's communication with them (I hope I'm getting everything right because, you know, me and technology aren't very good friends

). I wonder if Siberian can be affected by Shatterbird. If Regent will be able to capture and control Shatterbird, maybe they can use her to destroy any control Mannequin or Bonesaw or anyone else have over Siberian, thus taking down the Queen? That would be a THING.

Most of the flying bugs, however, I was using to sweep over my surroundings, checking buildings and building interiors. I wanted first aid kits, anything these people could use to clean their wounds. Noting the lack of suture threads, I had my spiders start using their silk to spin something long, thick and tough enough, threading it through the holes of needles for their use.
It would slow down my costume production a touch, but I could deal.
"That doesn't look very sterile," a woman said, from behind me, as I checked the length of the thread one set of spiders had produced. It was the pinched, gray-haired woman from just a little bit ago.
"More than you'd think. I raised these little ladies myself. They live in terrariums."
"That doesn't mean it's clean enough to thread through someone's open wounds."
"No," I replied, feeling a bit irritated, "But in the absence of good alternatives, I'd rather use this and then supply everyone here with antibiotics at some point in the next day or so. Which they probably need anyways."
"People use antibiotics too often," she said. "I try to make a point of using them sparingly in my clinic."
Seriously? "I think situations like this are the exact right time to use antibiotics. These people have open wounds, they're undernourished, dehydrated, stressed, their immune systems are probably shot, their environments are filthy, there's probably countless other reasons."

She said something, sounding even more irritated than before. I think it was a repeat of the question from earlier, about my credentials in medicine. I wasn't listening.
The paramedics hadn't come out of the ambulance in several minutes. A check with my bugs found them lying on the floor of the ambulance. No blood, as far as I could tell.
Ignoring the woman, I turned and headed for the door, hurrying outside. She barked something snide at my back.
I was battle ready as I approached the ambulance and checked the area. Nobody.
Stepping inside, I checked on the paramedics and the patient with an oxygen balloon strapped to his face. The paramedics were beyond help, dead, their heads twisted at an ugly angle. The patient hadn't been dispatched the same way. I checked his throat to find him still warm, but he wasn't breathing and he had no pulse. I squeezed the balloon, and huge amounts of blood bubbled from what I had taken to be a shallow cut in his chest. The bubbles meant the oxygen was leaking from his punctured lung.

At first I believed that the annoying, but helpful woman was a germaphobe (someone who's afraid of germs and infection) but she said that she have a clinic so she's a doctor. But there can be germaphobe doctors too, right? Lady, you should be thankful to Skitter for doing whatever she can in the given situation, not criticize her all the freaking time. She's trying her best to save people left and right. Aaaaaaand....it looks like a S9 member arrived to PUNISH Skitter for saving her people. Isn't Shatterbird, as I expected. No Glass Show. Neither Siberian, she'd have eaten them, not twisting their heads or puncturing their lungs. I don't think Jack is so strong to twist their heads at an ugly angle. Burnscar would have burned them, Cherish is now a pariah in S9's eyes, besides she can only make people kill each other or commit suicide and I doubt she made these people twisting each other's heads, Crawler wouldn't have acted in such a quiet way, Bonesaw would have kept them alive to turn them into monsters so....SO......There's another character who knows almost as much as Bonesaw about anatomy. Oh, God....OH, GOD.....don't....don't be what I'm thinking might be....Don't be HIM....Don't be freaking HIM....."shudders"

This wound – there was no way he could have had it when he came into the ambulance. It was fresh. All three of the people here had been executed. It had been done in cold blood, clean, and I hadn't even noticed with my bugs on watch.
Which left me very concerned for the people I'd left in the warehouse. I hopped down from the back of the ambulance, checked my surroundings, and then ran across the street.

I was a single step inside the door when I saw him. Tall, faceless,

.....................................................ITS HIM. ITS MOTHERFUCKING HIM........THANK YOU, MY DEARS, FOR WARNING ME ABOUT MANNEQUIN MAKING HIS APPEARANCE IN THIS CHAPTER....NICE OF YOU.....

(it won't be a spoiler if I demand myself to be told about

. PM me) Oh, God....WHY?.....WHY? I don't even have icecream in my fridge. Actually nothing sweet to eat in order to feel more calm about the whole situation. Btw, my friend calls Mannequin- Dr Manny (she also didn't warned me about his appearance. Thanks a bunch, Monica

). Dr because he ~~was~~ IS a scientist and Manny from Mannequin. Ok, I guess I'll call him like this too from time to time, when the situation becomes too tense. Dr Manny sounds a little fun. Alright, he came here to punish Skitter because she's saving lives and he hates humanity so much that he's ready to stop anyone from saving people. I get it.

featureless, but for the chains and ball joints that connected his ceramic-encased limbs. One hand was raised, a single finger raised, ticking from side to side like a metronome. Like an old-fashioned parent scolding an errant child.
The other hand was folded back, a long telescoping blade extended from the base of Mannequin's palm. The blade was pressed to the neck of the gray-haired doctor, so she had to stand on her tiptoes, her head pressed back against his chest.
I didn't have a chance to move, to speak, or to use my power before he retracted the blade. It slid across her throat, shearing through the skin, and arterial blood sprayed forth to cover some of the ground between us. She collapsed to the ground.
Mannequin's knife hand went limp, dangling at his side. His other hand remained in position, finger wagging, as if admonishing me for what I had been doing. Saving people from the Nine, tending to the hurt and scared.
I should have anticipated this.
I stepped forward, almost without thinking about it, and he dropped his other hand while taking three long steps to back away from me. His movements were ungainly, as if he was about to collapse to the ground with each one. No sooner had I wondered why when I saw his feet. His 'toes' pointed at the ground, and blades had sprouted from slots at the front of each foot. He was perched precariously on the honed knife points, walking on the blades.
Reaching behind my back, I drew my baton and knife. I tensed as he moved in reaction, closing half the distance between us, lurching three or four feet to the right, then back again.
I caught on immediately. He was evading the bugs that had been hovering in the air between us, the knife-stilts that extended from his feet delicately avoiding contact with the bugs that were on the ground. The contact he didmake with the bugs was gentle, sliding against them like a brush of wind. I only noticed because I was paying attention.

He didn't need to avoid my swarm. He was taunting me. Letting me know exactly how he had gotten so close without me realizing it.
I flicked out my baton to its full length. He responded by doing the same with the telescoping blades that unfolded from his arms. His weapons were longer, both sharp.
Not taking my eyes off him, I used my bugs and my peripheral vision to track the other people in the warehouse. Too many were too hurt to move, and those who could move had backed into corners and to places where they had cover.
Still, this was his battlefield. He had far too many hostages at his disposal. He was faster than me, stronger, tougher.
I was pretty damn sure that his power was as complete a counter to mine as anyone could hope for. Anyone who had paid attention to the news in the past five years knew who he was, what his story was. Mannequin had once been a tinker who specialized in biospheres, terrariums and self-contained ecosystems. A tinker who specialized in sustaining life, sheltering it from outside forces; forces that included water, weather, space… and bugs.
The only difference between then and now was that he was using his power to help and protect himself and himself only.
"Motherfucker." Even without intending to do it, I used my swarm to carry my voice. His head craned around, as if to look at the swarming bugs who had just, for all intents and purposes, spoken. Eventually his 'face' turned back to me.
"I have no idea how the fuck I'm going to do it," my voice was a low snarl, barely recognizable as my own beneath my anger and the noises of the swarm. "But I'm going to make you regret that."

FUCK THIS....Skitter just challenged Dr Manny at fight. Skitter have bigger balls than Mannequin will ever have. But, knowing Dr Manny, I think he got rid of his dick and balls as well as everything else who isn't necessarily for his survival, or just replaced them with robotic versions. I won't be surprised if he'll sprout a weapon from there if Skitter will try her Dick Wrenching Fighting Style....."shivers".....I give her 50% chance to defeat him. 55% chance if she's getting very creative. If she can only break just a little through his shell, everything will be perfect. Fill him with bugs and have each of his human organs completely obliterated under the vicious attack of Swarm. That would be excellent for everyone, except for Dr Manny himself. Anyway, this thing should stop existing. As soon as possible. For the sake of my poor heart first then for the sake of all the innocent people this DR ASSHOLE will kill further if is not stopped.
I wanted to create a meme Mannequin but I realize that I can't look at his pictures more than 5 seconds without sweating nervously.

Good night and sleep well, my friends.

Mannequin is going to be under your bed and grab you by your foot when you'll go to toilet, as punishment for not telling me about him

.

AmbarGriss · Jun 18, 2018

Actually I warned you a few pages back. But I forgot to warned you again. Sorry

Assembler · Jun 18, 2018

AmbarGriss said:
Speaking of Mannequins. He comes back in five chapters.

This was warning you about this chapter.

blackarrow · Jun 19, 2018

Hello, wonderful friends who told me about Mannequin five chapters ago, hoping that I'm gonna remember this- aren't you sweethearts?

, and welcome to the FIGHT of the CENTURY in Plague 12.7 In the left corner: Taylor Hebert aka Skitter, Undersider, Crime Lady, philanthropist, amateur doctor, protector of the weak and helpless VS In the right corner: The most crazy Tinker you can possible meet, Mannequin aka Dr Manny, Slaughterhouse 9 member, evil MUHAHAHAHAHAHA super-scientist (he can't laugh but I think he can use Morse Code for a sweet evil laugh when he wants. I can hear him laughing in Morse Code in my head

). Alright, Skitter have like 50% chances to defeat him (of course I wants 100000000% her to win: she's MY DEAR Skitter, I hate Mannequin more than anyone else, and her people should be protected with any costs) but let's be honest: I only give her half of chances in this fight because Mannequin is very powerful and very smart and very well prepared. I can't be unrealistic and say that she can beat him in like few minutes, or without being injured by him or he doesn't have any chance to win. Even if I hate 98% S9 members with a burning passion (except for Bonesaw who I love to hate and Burnscar- half hate/half pity her), I admit that they're very strong, very resistant and most of them are intelligent and have a strategic mind in combat. Mannequin is one of those intelligent and strategic minds+ even if his weapons might not cut through Skitter's super-resistant costume, he can still twist her head, break her limbs or even break her in half. They're many ways to kill a 15 years old girl especially when you have a body made of hard shell. Besides, the same shell body might protect him against her attacks, no matter how aggressive they're. So, Skitter have 50% chances to win but also Mannequin have 50% chances to win. Ok, I WISH YOU ALL THE SUCCESS IN THE WORLD, SKITTER, YOU'RE THE SECOND BEST GIRL. I have my icecream ready, a couple of cookies that I made myself and....let's go. And hope for the best.

Mannequin lunged for me, his bladed toes biting into the ground for traction. He moved fast enough that his arms trailed behind him like twin ribbons in a strong wind.
He stopped several paces away from me, turning his body to swing at me with his right arm and the three foot long blade that was attached to it. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he'd fall well short. But his arm extended on a chain, giving the swing just enough reach to put the blade on a collision course with my head.
I parried it with my baton. The hit was heavy, more like trying to fend off a sledgehammer than what I'd expected. I almost lost my grip on my weapon.
As the blade bounced off my baton, he reversed the direction his upper body was turning to start spinning like a top. His one attached arm hurtling around him, he sprung at me. I threw myself back and away, escaping by a mere two inches.

His spinning upper body had, with his right arm spooled out, caused the chain to wind around his body. He began reeling it in, the arm and blade drawing a lazy circle around him. I backed away, thinking I finally had a chance to get my bearings.
As his detached arm reeled in, the fingers folded backwards around the end of one of his feet, gripping it. He retracted the blade at the toe of the other foot and dropped that foot flat on the ground. The motion seemed to unbalance him, and he teetered, almost falling over. Then in one sudden motion, he righted himself and thrust out with his other leg and the three-foot blade that was now attached to it.
I didn't have time to get out of the way, to bring my baton up to defend myself or even to do more than belatedly realize his near-collapse had been a feint. He caught me in the stomach with that same surprising strength as before, then slashed up toward my collarbone with enough force to lift my feet up off the ground. I landed hard on my back, my armor absorbing the brunt of the impact.
The sides of my armor panels bit into the ribs of my back where they curved toward my body.
Keeping the lessons I'd learned from sparring with Grue in mind, I tried to scramble back and away while Mannequin righted himself and put the forearm and hand he had connected to his foot in the right place. Before I could get to my feet, he started striding toward me.

Maybe you're wondering why I didn't used the usual green color for Worm- quoted text. Well, in order to have more than 50% chances o defeat Mannequin, Skitter should be VERY creative. And...everyone knows that So, I have to replace green with red for this Chapter. Alright, if I give Skitter 50% (+50% if she's getting creative) aren't you curious to see how many chances I give her if she fights every single one of the S9 member? Let's see: 70-80% against Jack (if he can also make his knives sharp enough to cut through anything, besides having an infinite cutting edge then he'll cut through her invincible costume and her chances will drop at 50-60%). 0% against Siberian (everyone would have the same chances as long as they don't know her weak point), 0-1% chances against Crawler (1% with indulgence), 60-70% chances against Shatterbird, 80% chances against Burnscar (she took down Lung, who's stronger and more dangerous that Burnscar), 0% against Cherish (Cherish can make Skitter kill herself), 90% against Bonesaw (if Bonesaw is helped by her creations, the chances drop at 60%; if Bonesaw have also special safeguard making her invincible at bugs and knives and fireguns, chances drop to 0%). So, Skitter have the best chances against the most vulnerable members of the team. Cherish is also vulnerable, but her power will simply fuck Skitter up.

I drew my bugs around me to conceal my movements as I rolled to one side, set my feet under me and sprinted to his left.
While still beneath the cover of my bugs, I was struck from behind and knocked face first to the ground. The surprise was as bad as the pain.
Through the swarm, I sensed him approach until he stood with one foot on either side of me. I felt him wind his fingers into my hair and pull my head up and back. I struggled, trying to catch him in the knee with my baton, but he wrenched me to one side, and I felt a blade press against my throat.
As he'd done with the gray-haired doctor, he pulled the blade hard against my throat in one long, smooth motion, adjusting for the curvature of my neck.
In one heartbeat, I formed and initiated a plan. I grunted and made a choking sound, which was all the more realistic because he'd just pulled a length of metal hard against my windpipe; I did want to grunt and I did choke. Then I went limp and had every bug in the area cease moving. Like snowflakes, the flies began drifting down from the air.
He let go of my hair, and my mask clacked hard against the floor. I heard a girl scream, heard noises and shouts from everyone else.
I swallowed, partially to check that my throat really hadn't been cut. My costume had saved me. I wished the gathered onlookers hadn't witnessed the scene. It would have been better if the bugs had blocked their line of sight, as their noises of fear and alarm were going to get his attention.

I just needed a second to think. Mannequin could press an assault indefinitely, until he succeeded in cutting my throat open or delivering that mortal wound. It was like sparring against Brian, but worse in every way. Mannequin was stronger, faster, he had more reach, he didn't get tired, he was good and he was out to kill me. He was versatile in a way no ordinary human could be. He couldn't be caught in an arm-lock- his limb would just come free or bend in some screwed up way.
He could sense me somehow. How? It had been reckless of me to assume that he used sight to get by, especially when he didn't have eyeholes in his mask. The fact that he hadn't noticed I was faking meant he wasn't relying on sight, or his sight was limited enough that he couldn't make out the lack of blood through the cloud of bugs around us. If he wasn't hearing my breathing, I doubted he had super hearing either.
Did he use radar, like Cricket? It would be my first assumption, except my bugs hadn't heard anything of the sort.
No. This line of thinking wasn't accomplishing anything.
I heard him sharpening his blades against one another with the sound of steel on steel. I could sense the movement, from the bugs that were drifting down onto him. A man in the crowd whimpered, and Mannequin turned towards him.
The metal singing in the pauses between the scrapes of blade on blade. Mannequin was standing still, observing.
I had to come up with a plan of attack, or others would pay the price. My deadline was the point, I suspected, that someone lost their nerve and tried to run.
If I was going to attack, I needed to find a weak point. But he was smart. Before the disaster that had turned him into this, he had been on the brink of solving many of the world's crises. Overpopulation, renewable energy, effective recycling, world hunger. Even with tinker abilities offering the means, it took someone special to manage that and actually makeprogress.
It was a given that he wouldn't have any blatant weaknesses. Any measure he didn't think of himself, he would have shored up by now, by virtue of being a longstanding member of the Nine. He'd fought heroes and villains better than me, and he'd learned and improved in the process.
In that respect, perhaps, he and I weren't so different. I'd developed in much the same ways. The difference was that he had years more experience. That, and he was batshit insane.
What would I do in his shoes, with his power?
I wouldn't leave any vital openings uncovered. That was a given. My focus -Mannequin's focus- would be on designing way to make himself a completely closed system. It wasn't just sensible, it was the whole point of his transformation. He'd have perfect recycling of all waste, dissipation of excess energy by diverting it to mechanical movement, intake of energy by absorption of heat.

Forgot something. RIP doctors killed by Mannequin

. Hope your deaths will be avenged. And its pretty good thinking for Skitter to pretends that she's dead so she can start thinking about strategies to defeat Mannequin. Glad that Skitter confirms my theory that a Tinker should be naturally a GENIUS so he/she can use their power properly. I consider myself being an average intelligent person and I suck at technology and I'll be unable to do something if I'd get Tinker powers. I will have a lot of ideas to do crazy things but I won't know how to apply them. Bonesaw and Mannequin were geniuses even before they got their powers. They could have become scientists pretty easy, their powers only turned them into a version of scientists on steroids. I won't be surprised if Bonesaw's IQ is close to 200 or even more. And not because of her powers. Ok, now Skitter is putting herself in Mannequin's shell shoes. What she'd do if she was in his place?

Could that be a clue as to how he sensed the world around him? Heat? Or was it something completely different? Radiation? Radio waves? Electromagnetics?
Putting myself in his shoes, I had to think of his motivation. Why this form? I'd make myself resemble a doll or a store mannequin because… it was an eternal reminder. Didn't his wife and kids die when the Simurgh attacked? There was a story there.
But what else? Why resemble a human?
To mislead? Maybe the configuration of 'my' organs and parts wasn't human in the slightest. I might have gone the Aegis route and built-in redundancies for everything I could spare. I wouldn't need a heart, kidneys, or a conventional digestive system, bone marrow or any of that stuff. Everything I could strip away would be more room for equipment, more room for all the pieces and parts that
help turn 'my' individual body parts into perpetually self-sustaining systems.
His torso was the biggest section of his body. It wouldn't have his heart, lungs or any of that, because he didn't have a circulatory system. More likely, it contained his brain, his sensory organs/system, and whatever mechanism he was using to remotely control his arms, legs, hands and feet. Unless he didn't want to put all his items in one basket. It was easily possible for some of that stuff to be in his thighs and forearms.

If I were him… I would have spent hours carefully balancing the 'ecosystems' of each individual part of my body. Something that exacting and that fine tuned would be sensitive, fragile. They'd be resistant to impacts, I wouldn't go around getting into fights if they weren't. But heat and cold? A crack in that exterior of his? It could wreak havoc.

Ok, ok, I still don't get how Mannequin became like this. I mean, I know his "reasons", but I don't know HOW exactly, the procedures he used to turn every part of his body into self-sustaining ecosystems. I'm imagining him like: wants to get rid of skin- he quickly took his skin off and start replacing it with hard shell; wants to get rid of eyes -he pulls them out; wants to get rid of limbs- he pulls them out; wants to get rid of heard- no more heart as he crushes it and replaces it with whatever keeps him alive. But, I think he went through a lot of pain this these medical procedures. Did he took powerful painkillers? Did he previously created a surgeon robot then put himself into a deep sleep and let the robot operate on him? Did he asked another crazy Tinker to hep him? How did he removed his limbs without any external help? I know that this is Tinker bullshit and I should not think too much about it because there's no explanation anyway, but even Bonesaw's creations make more sense and they're partial explained, even some of Colin and Chris' super-weapons seem possible to be created in real life, but what Mannequin did, is a HUGE NON-SENSE. Maybe I'll get a backstory of him when he'll start operating himself to get rid completely of his human life. Even if it will be a Mannequin Interlude, I'd actually be glad for this kind of Interlude.

Okay. I was getting a sense of him, maybe. That said, none of that mattered if I couldn't hurt him in the first place. Maybe I was thinking about this all wrong.
Bugs dealt with threats that were encased in hard shells all the time, didn't they? They dealt with other species of bugs. There were a hundred solutions there, if I was willing to look for them.
That was the spark of inspiration I needed. In a matter of seconds, I had a plan.
It wasn't a good plan, but it was something. As a just-in-case measure, I could try some other smaller plans, on the off chance that they might distract or even work. Having those options, if nothing else, would make me feel better. Mannequin had just brutally and unquestionably kicked my ass in the span of fifteen seconds, and it was going to be at least two minutes until I could even begin my plan, judging by how long it had taken my bugs to deliver the supplies from my lair.

The same instant I had that thought, I started everything in motion. Every flying insect near my lair headed indoors to gather what I needed.
I made a mental note to make a more easily accessible opening to my lair, so I could do this faster in the future.
I made another mental note to set up a clock with ticking hands, so I could have bugs ride the three hands and have a precise way of tracking time when I was in my territory. I supposed it would have to be an old-fashioned clock, since Shatterbird had screwed up everything else.
I had to guess. Roughly two minutes until I could start my plan.
As I lay face down on the floor of the factory, I tried to control my breathing so he wouldn't notice I was still alive. The beat of my heart in my chest was so intense I was worried it would give me away.
Staying still was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do, and I had done some hard things before. Knowing that he might leap for someone and end their life any moment, it had me on edge. Every second I could buy here counted because every second I didn't have to fight him was crucial.
"Mommy," the word was drawn out. Had to have come from someone young. A toddler? "I don't want to be here!"
The rhythm of steel rasping against steel ceased. Mannequin went still.
Shit. So much for my reprieve.
I pulled myself to my feet and stirred all of the bugs in the area into action. They rose from the floor like a dark whirlwind. I sheathed my knife and gripped my baton in both hands.
"Mannequin!"
He stopped and turned his upper body to face me. His head cocked to one side.
"Yeah," I said. "You didn't get me."

You can try to make your bugs attack Mannequin with fire, in the same manner you did during Merchants' invasion of your territory. Try to fry his hard shell until it will start melting. Then force as many bugs as you can inside his torso, all of them attacking his brains. And don't stop until his brains will be completely DESTROYED. Yes, you'll take a life, but you'll take a life that HAVE NO RIGHTS to exist. I'm a peaceful person but I'll kill Mannequin with a constant smile on my lips and without any remorse. I'll pull his brains out of his torso and smash it against all walls and have fun while doing it. This is how much I hate this ASS. This is how much I want him DEATH (the only time when I wanted to personally torture for days and kill a fictional character while feeling good about myself was during Games of Thrones-

the suckiest and most horrible character of all suckiest and horrible characters: Joffrey Baratheon. I kind of hated his death on- screen because it was way too easy.

Skitter, don't let him hurt children. DON'T LET THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER HURT CHILDREN. I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH YOU'LL BE HURT, STOP HIM FROM KILLING CHILDREN.

He turned back around and started walking toward the mother and the little boy. The pair were huddled between an empty metal frame and a workbench.
"Hey!" I shouted. "Come on! Fight me! Don't you have the balls to take on a teenage girl? Or are they one of the things you cut away!?"
He didn't slow or hesitate at my words.
"Bastard!" I ran for him. It was a hundred percent possible he was baiting me, forcing me into a situation where I had to do something stupid or let the mom and the little kid get hurt. Maybe if I'd been a harder person, I could have let him hurt them, knowing it was smarter in the long run. But I wasn't capable of doing that.

What could I even do? I had to make the call in the three or four seconds it took me to cross the floor of the factory. He was more than half-again as tall as I was, and my weapons couldn't do anything to him.
I threw myself at the backs of his legs, colliding with the back of his knees and his calves. Not all of his precarious balance was an act. He teetered and collapsed backward onto the floor, his legs on top of me.
"Go!" I screamed at the mother. "Run!"
She did. Mannequin reached out to extend a blade into the back of her leg, and she fell, but someone else hurried forward to help her.
Mannequin's left leg snaked around my throat in an impromptu headlock. I tried to slip out, to force his leg apart. Even though I could move it, I couldn't squeeze my head through the gap.
Not counting the time I'd spent lying on the ground, buying time, how long had I lasted? Less than thirty seconds?
Four blades sprung from the calf of his right leg. He extended it high above me, and they began to rotate, slowly at first, then faster, like the blades of a fan. Or a food processor.
He had me in a headlock, but the rest of me was free to move. Gripping my baton with both hands, I swung it into the whirling blades with as much strength as my leverage afforded me.
My baton went flying out of my grip, but the blades stopped. My heart sank as I saw them begin to rotate again, slowly.
They didn't return to the same blurring speed they'd been at before. A few seconds passed, and they retracted back into his leg.
I might have been relieved, but I was still in his grip.
He heaved me upward, positioning himself with two hands and one leg on the ground, the other leg holding me up high. My toes scrabbled to touch ground and fell short. The grip on my neck wasn't perfect: it wasn't cutting off my blood flow, it barely impacted my breathing, but it still hurt, and my neck strained with the weight of the rest of my body.
I drew my knife and gripped the handle. Then I drove it at my throat. Or at Mannequin's leg, which was folded around my throat. Same idea. I aimed at the ball joint, striking a mere two or so inches from my own face. Once, twice, three times.

I'll smack you everytime when you'll put yourself down, Skitter. You're the BEST, you're doing better things than many heroes (I still don't know why the heroes from other Protectorates don't come all in the City to attack simultaneous S9. Exactly how they're doing with Endbringers. Because S9 are basically mini- Endbringers. Or evacuate all the people from the City and attack it with nuclear bombs. Yes, the people will lose their homes but S9 will be wiped off the face of the earth. They're more dangerous than any other villain groups. Siberian and Crawler might survive even to a nuclear blast -they're basically "human" versions of cockroaches, but all others would be kaput. But this is Worm where heroes doesn't think too logical. Villains are the ones who are doing all the logical thinking

). All in all, Skitter almost sacrificed her life to save a mother and her child. Skitter, if Marquis will ever escape from Birdcage (a thing that I WANT to happen) you and him can rule this fucking City together (I'd so like this idea). You have a strong moral code, he have a strong moral code, you're protecting mothers and children, he doesn't kill women and children, you both are very smart and good leaders. And I won't say no if Amy will join you two. Just keep Tattletale away from her, kay?

I was swinging for a fourth hit when he shifted positions. I couldn't be sure if he had hoped to gradually strangle me, to leave me dangling until I started begging or if he'd been poised for something else, but he'd apparently changed his mind. He turned over, his leg unfolding from my throat at the same instant one large hand closed over my face.
He whipped me around himself in one tight circle, then let his arm go free from the socket, the whirring sound of chain feeding out swiftly becoming distant as I hurtled across the room.
I crashed into a pile of wooden boards that were riddled with nails and screws. The metal points jabbed at me but didn't penetrate my costume. I tried to get my feet under me, but the boards only slid underfoot. His hand was still attached to my face.

He began to pull me forward, no doubt to repeat the process. Half blind under the grip of his hand, I reacted in a heartbeat, slamming the point of the knife into the gap between his hand and my face.
Tattletale had said it was strong enough to serve as a crowbar. I was glad to discover she was right. Between the pull of the retracting chain and the leverage of the knife, I freed myself from his grip, his fingertips scraping hard against my scalp. Flying back to him, his arm clicked back into place. I tried to blink a blurry spot out of my vision, only to realize I had a scratch on the right lens of my mask where I'd hit it with the knife's edge.
The pain from being thrown around was belatedly making itself known. Bruises, I could deal with. Just so long as my body moved where and when I needed it to. I felt the dull ache of a building headache. From where I'd been gripped in the headlock?
Okay. Still in one piece, more or less. How much time had I bought? One minute? One and a half? Could I hold out for long enough? Could the bystanders? The moment my bugs arrived would be the moment I could begin my plan. I'd still have to survive after that, and there was no guarantee it would work. In fact, my gut was telling me it was a long shot.
Thirty seconds to a minute. I was panting for breath, counting every second that he silently stared at me as something I should value.
What was going on behind that expressionless mask? Was he coming up with a battle plan? Maybe, maybe not. He didn't really need one. It could be that he was calculating how best to destroy me: not just killing me, but ruiningme. There were enough ways he could do it. Inflicting lifelong scars and injury. Or he could go down the opposite road and murder the civilians, leaving me as the only one standing. Both were very real possibilities, both devastating in their own way.
Or maybe, behind that hard shell, he was in the throes of mental anguish. Maybe he was spending every second of every day reliving the day he lost his family and his dreams to a nigh-unstoppable, malignant force.
There was nothing I could do about his past. Whoever he had been before, he was a monster now. I had to pull out all the stops to try and stop him from hurting anyone else.
It was time to enact battle plan number one, one of the two ideas I had in mind that almost definitely wouldn't work. I set my swarm on him. Up to this point, I had kept them largely at bay, using only the bare minimum necessary to keep track of my surroundings.
Now I smothered him, piling them on every available surface.
It didn't accomplish a thing, of course. He started running toward me, weapons at the ready. He wasn't impeded in his movements, nor were his senses -sight or otherwise- impaired.
I ducked beneath his first swing as he closed in, but I couldn't avoid the follow-up hit. His second swing scraped off the armor on my shoulder and struck my chest. Beyond the momentary pain, I was almost grateful for it, because the strike knocked me further out of his reach.
Some of my bugs managed to squeeze inside the slots where his weapons had emerged. The spaces didn't perfectly match the bases of the blades, and the bugs were small. There was nothing organic inside the sheaths. Even the interior was completely sealed off.
Still, I managed to get bugs into the mechanisms, lodging their bodies inside the finer workings or killing one another to spill ichor and their bodily contents onto anything that felt sensitive.
Mannequin stepped back, and I watched as he retracted all of his blades, the slots they'd speared out of sealing closed behind them. A wave of pressure and heat killed off every bug and likely most of the gunk I'd managed to smear inside.
Yeah, I hadn't figured that would work. Plan one down.
For plan two, I needed my baton. I could only hope it was in one piece. I used my power and my eyes to search the factory floor, while keeping my head still, so he couldn't see what I was doing.

I don't think he have any human feelings or regrets left, Skitter. I don't think he cares anymore about Alan's family. He's a completely emotionless monster now. Well, not completely emotionless, because he still feels HATE for humanity. But I think that if Alan's family will magically appear behind his holes that serves as his "eyes" he'll kill them himself without any hesitation. This is how he feels about Alan's wife and children. Hate them, not miss them. Mannequin is build from hate and every part of him is a symbol of hate for everything that moves. "sighs" Your bugs can't do jack shit even if they'd pass through his shell. He made his body in a way that it will instantly kill any small intruder. So, this strategy is down. "sighs"

My bugs were almost here, arriving in droves.
I found my baton lying against the wall near where I'd been pinned by Mannequin. I'd have to get by him to get it.
Fetch. I ordered my bugs, as Mannequin lunged for me again. I didn't have a second thought to spare as far as telling them how. For now, I needed to survive.
This time, his attack was frenzied. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was irritated. I hopped back out of reach of the first swing, then quickly backed up as he followed that up with a series of rapid rotations of his upper body, momentarily becoming a blender-whir of whirling blades.
I was so busy trying not to get hit by the blades that I missed it when he tilted. He balanced on one leg and kicked out wide with the other, letting the chain out so it could stretch the seven or eight feet to me. I was knocked back onto the wood pile a second time, landing on the edge and falling to the ground a second later.
He stopped spinning and retracted his leg, apparently unfazed after the dizzying act of spinning like a top. I saw my bugs tugging the baton, but Mannequin spotted them at the same time. He stepped back and placed one foot on top of it. With a kick, he sent it sliding across the floor, away from me.
Fuck. I'd have to take the slightly less efficient route. I grabbed a stout two-by-four as I stood. It was old, dusty, damaged by years of exposure, and the screws that clustered in one end were rusted.

Better than nothing, as weapons went.
His blades made that rasping sound as he sharpened them against one another, one edge of each blade, then the other. After doing it just long enough to lull me into a false sense of security, he lunged, blades spearing for my chest and throat. I struck out simultaneously with the piece of wood. It seemed to catch him off guard. I struck too soon to hit him, but hewasn't my target.
I clubbed at the uppermost blade, driving it down toward the floor. I tried to avoid the edge and strike the flat of the blade, but my strike wasn't spot on. I didn't see if I'd had any of the desired effect, because he collided with me, both blades striking the armor of my chest. Pain exploded in my collarbone and ribs, but I didn't experience any of the telltale pain of impalement. My armor had saved me.
Finding the tips stuck in the denser material of my armor, he whipped both arms to one side, throwing me a solid ten or twelve feet. I sprawled where I landed.
I huffed out a breath, feeling pain in my chest with every movement. Then I smiled a little.
My swarm had finally arrived.
The bugs flowed into the room as a singular mass and roughly half of them swept over Mannequin. He wobbled a little, then turned his attention to me, uncaring.
Which was a good thing. It was better that he didn't pay much attention.
Behind him, the bugs moved in an almost kaleidoscopic pattern, slowly expanding outward from a center point, their arrangement symmetric.
He paused and looked over his shoulder at the swarm.
He was apparently able to sense my bugs on the floor, floating in the air. That much was apparent. He hadn't, at the same time, been able to tell I wasn'tbleeding out into a pool on the ground, or that I was still breathing while I lay prone on the factory floor. My plan hinged on two things; whether his peculiar means of sensing things would let him grasp what I was doing here, and if he would be able to do something about it.
The formation ceased expanding, then swept over him again. Once again, he wobbled, staggered a step.
He charged through the mass of bugs that now sat between the two of us, running towards me. I managed to parry one swing of his blade with my piece of wood, then jump out of the way of the second blade. When I tried to block his kick with the two-by-four, however, I lost my grip and it fell to the ground. He kicked me a second time, hard, and I staggered back, hand to my stomach, nausea building up in my throat. I controlled my breathing to keep my dinner down.
Third pass with my swarm. They focused on his legs, and very nearly unbalanced him.
I could see him pause, watched his head tilt quizzically. I bit my lip.
To his right, my left, the swarm had once again gathered in a tight cluster, and were expanding slowly, with controlled movements.

I can see 2 people fighting with 100% chances to defeat Mannequin. Armsmaster armed with his super-nano-weapons, a super-suit and enough determination to make Mannequin run like a headless chicken away from him even before they'll start the fight (Armsmaster's nano- Halberd was very close to kill a fucking Endbringer, Mannequin wouldn't stand any chance against it. Its nothing like a small nano-knife

). Faultline will be the other person- wait the right moment, touch his torso, completely destroy it and voila. Sundancer will also be a strong adversary, how much is he going to resist if she'll use her most powerful sun? But still Skitter is doing her best even if she kind of have her ass kicked. She can win, I still believe in her success

.

The swarm consisted of pairings of flying insect and arachnid. Every spider from my lair was clutching a bee, a wasp or a larger dragonfly, who clutched the spider in turn. A thousand pairs.
Connecting to one another, these bugs quickly drew out five hundred or more lines of webbing. Mostly dragline silk, this 'net' maintained enough of the sticky webbing to attach to him, draping over his artificial body and stayingthere.
I hadn't used the black widow spiders I'd brought into the factory earlier out of a fear that he'd realize what I was doing and counteract it before I could really get the ball rolling. Now I gathered them up and brought them into play. I used all of the spiders I'd already placed on him, focusing on his joints, reinforcing the stronger webs that were already there. Their silk was nothing compared to the black widows, but it was something.
He moved without a problem, either unaware or uncaring. Silk strands stretched and snapped as he extended his arms, more broke free as he walked. Alone, the threads were negligible. It was together that they were stronger. Much like my costume.
He tried to retract the blade in his right arm, but it caught. Pressing the point against the ground, he bent it back into alignment. It retracted on his next attempt. My strike with the two-by-four hadn't done much there. My second just-in-case measure hadn't worked out.
That same arm disconnected and extended towards me as he tried to grab for me, and I turned to one side just in time to avoid being caught. He fired the other arm out with an almost explosive force and I managed to catch hold of it before it got a grip on my costume.
My swarm made a fourth pass, focusing on the chain of his extended arm and the joints of his shoulders, elbows, crotch and knees where the webbing had already accumulated to some degree. Fifty or sixty spiders stayed on the extended chain, spitting out large amounts of their stickiest webbing.

He was trying to maneuver the arm I was holding to grab onto me, his fingers and wrist bending at unnatural angles as he sought a grip on my hands and wrists. He changed tactics, making the blades in the arm spear out at random, to make it as impossible to hold as he could. When that failed, he whipped the chain. I let go of the hand just in time to avoid being caught by the tail end of the whiplash. He reeled it in, and it got about three-quarters of the way in before he ran into a slight snag.
The last quarter of the retraction process was a fraction slower. Silk glue gumming up the works, I could hope. I saw him look at his arm, then flex the fingers, as if to test them.
While he was distracted, I made a fifth pass with my formation. I tried to be more subtle about it, carefully draping the silk over him rather than letting it pull tight against him with enough collective force to move him off-balance.
He attacked, stretching out the arm I hadn't gummed up. The pain from the most recent hit to my stomach slowed me down, and his fist collided with me, knocking me over for what seemed like the hundredth time. I managed to backhand it off of me before he could do anything, and hurried to my feet.
While the arm was still partially extended, I managed to deposit spiders on the chain. They immediately began straining to produce silk glue on and around the mechanisms that allowed the chain to retract. One spider wasn't much, but all together, it added up.
I could pinpoint the moment he realized what I was doing. Extending the chain, he flung it across the room, the blade cutting a wide swathe. I ducked clear, but two bystanders were struck down, screaming. When he moved to retract that chain, the mechanism stalled.
His body was like Armsmaster's powersuit, but every piece of equipment he added necessitated that he cut away a pound of flesh. I was inclined to suspect that, crazy as he was, that reality made him more inclined to go for elegant, efficient design over more rugged craftsmanship. The propeller blades in his ankle, the chain retraction mechanisms in his arms, they were built to be lightweight, to use
minimal energy, and achieve maximum effect at the same time.
He tilted his head, looking at the arm that was stubbornly refusing to retract back into place.
I made my sixth sweep with my bugs. As the swarm passed, his head snapped up, looking at me. As much as he could without eyes, anyways. He knew what was happening.
A better cape than I might have had a quip there, an insult. I hurt in too many places, in my ribs, my stomach, my shoulders, neck, back and legs. Some of the pain was fierce, like a red-hot poker being driven with a constant, ceaseless pressure into the body parts in question. I couldn't spare the breath.
The chain dropped from his elbow socket, and I watched as he paced over to his fallen arm, picked it up, tore the remaining chain out, and clicked it into place.
"Come on," I muttered under my breath.

I like that even Skitter is asking herself how in the Hell of Mannequins this monster managed to replace every part of his body with shell and weapons. She echoed my own questions. She and I are pretty much alike (as my friend told me)

except that I have more self- confidence than her, I couldn't resist not even half of a second against Mannequin (I'd have died from heart-attack even before starting the fight) and I don't have cold blood like her but I have a very ugly sadistic side that I'm afraid even myself of it. Also, I don't have her brilliant mind, but I'm enough inventive and strategic to coordinate a fight from distance. So, Skitter gets VERY creative (look, red helped you getting creative

) as she's starting to effectively dismember Mannequin with spider webs. AWESOME. I KNEW YOU CAN DO IT, GIRL.

Blades speared out of slots all over his body, some of which I hadn't even guessed were present. Then he began spinning furiously, every body part rotating the individual blades with enough force that webs were cut before they could be secured in place.
Different tactic. This time, the swarm took its time passing over him, thirty or forty spiders working at a time, their work relentless, ceaseless. Each spider cut the threads so they drifted down like strings in the wind.
Falling gently instead of being stretched taut, they would drape over the spinning blades, attach to other trailing silk, and form a looser cloud.
I'd anticipated this.
The part where I was caught off guard was when he changed tactics, going after the civilians for the second time.
"Hey!" I shouted after him.
I'd hoped to be more subtle about my second phase of attack.
Half of the swarm I'd brought from my lair was still waiting for the instruction. I deployed them while running after Mannequin, stopping at the wood pile to get another two-by-four.
Someone screamed as Mannequin started cutting into them. Two or three people, cornered by the monster. One already in harm's way.
"Fucker! Stop!" I shouted, my words useless.
I moved on to the second phase of my attack. As I'd done with the pens, markers, the candles and the bottles of disinfectant, I'd instructed my bugs to arrive with supplies in hand.
Some carried the scraps of silk cloth from my work on the costumes: The masks I'd made as trial runs, the belts and straps. As with the silk that drifted in the air, they were caught by the blades rather than being cut. Mannequin soon had a dark blur whirling around his upper body.
Other bugs packed the remainder of my costume design supplies. Tubes of paint were rigid enough to be cut by the blades, creating small, wet, colorful explosions. A large bottle of glue made its way to my hand, and I hurried to tear off the lid before a large group of bugs carted it off to him, holding it upside-down over his head so streams of the stuff could spill onto his head and shoulders.
Packages of dye were torn in half by his blades, expanding into clouds of black, brown, gray and lavender powder, sticking to any
liquid on him, filling every gap to highlight the hidden slots for his weaponry and the seams where everything fit together.

Swinging underhand, I brought the two-by-four up toward the widest part of the buzzsaw whirl that was Mannequin. Through luck as much as intent, I managed a glancing blow on the end of the blade, knocking it up toward the ceiling. The momentum of his rotation managed the rest. He tipped and crashed onto his side, literally falling apart in the process. Lengths of chain connected everything, but nothing was in the right socket. Some sort of built-in defense mechanism against heavy impacts?
My swarm flooded over him to draw out more lines of silk and to spill glue -both organic glue from my spiders and brand name supplies- where possible.
He began to reel the various parts in, slowly. I hurried in to grab the one arm he'd disconnected from the chain and hurled it away. Then I seized his head.
I knew he wouldn't have anything particularly valuable in his head. It was too obvious a target. But it was easy to get my hands on, it wasn't connected to too many other things, and there was a chance he might want to keep it.
Holding the head, I hauled back, pulling more chain from the neck. With one hard pull, I hauled half of his body in my direction, the exertion making every injury I had screaming in protest. Another pull, and I dragged his body another half-foot back, but I got one or two feet of length from the neck-chain.
Even with stuff gumming up the works, his chest clearly had stronger mechanisms inside it than the rest of his body did. The chain began slowly retracting.
Someone appeared behind me, and his hands gripped the chain, just a bit behind my own. He added his strength to mine, and Mannequin's body was dragged another two or three feet back.

SHE SAVED CIVILIANS AGAIN! YES, AND NOW SHE PROCEEDS TO DECAPITATE HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE JUST PAINTED HIM LIKE ONE OF HER NON-FRENCH MANNEQUINS FOR COSTUMES. ALSO, THE BADASS BYSTANDER WHO IS HELPING HER...DON'T TELL ME HE'S THAT R.J.'S ASSHOLE OF A FATHER CAUSE THAT WOULD BE THE BIGGEST TWIST IN THIS ARC.

"Where?" he asked. It was a burly bystander with a thick black beard, thick rimmed glasses and a red and black striped t-shirt. One of my people.
I turned and let go to point. There was a metal frame that had once stood around some equipment. Now it stood empty, just a connection of metal bars.
"Stand back," he said. I let go and backed off. Without me in the way, the bystander was able to haul Mannequin another four or five feet towards the frame. Another haul, and they were close enough to the frame.
I hurried forward, gripping the head, and winding it through and beneath the bars, tying it in the crudest of knots and tangling it in the bars in the process. It dangled, the stump facing the ceiling. Fifteen feet of chain trailed between it and Mannequin's body.
Mannequin had only just managed to reel in the chain and reconnect his remaining arm, and was using it to attach his legs securely into place.
I had only seconds.
Having my bugs in the area, I knew exactly where to find what I was looking for. I hurried over to the corner and hefted a cinder block.
I wasn't halfway back to the head when I saw Mannequin stand. I abandoned my plan, dropped the block and stepped away, circling him, putting distance between myself and his head. His attention seemed to be on me.
Had I pissed him off?
He wasn't spinning any more, and I could see the damage the bugs had wrought. Dense webs and scraps of cloth had collected across his body, and only half of the blades had succeeded in retracting in the face of the silk, glue and other gunk. Color streaked him, both liquid from the paints and powder from the dyes.

I gathered my bugs into another formation. We were running low on silk, but I'd have to deal.
He stepped forward, and his movements were more awkward than usual. Good. That might mean the ball joints weren't in pristine condition anymore.
He moved again, disconnecting the chain to free himself from the metal frame I'd tied the neck-chain to. He wasn't focusing on me. I felt out with my bugs and sought his target.
His arm. It crawled weakly for him, using the fingertips to scrape forward.
The moment I realized what he was after, I redirected a portion of my web-spinning swarm to the hand. Then I limped to my left to put myself between him and his target. My swarm passed over him. The seventh strafing run. He slashed at it as it passed in a surprising display of emotion.
He reached into the hole where his neck and head were supposed to be and withdrew a small knife.
I adjusted my posture. He was a tinker, and that knife could be anything.
He pressed a switch, and it was soon surrounded with a gray blur. I recognized it as Armsmaster's tech.
A weapon with that exact same visual effect had done horrendous damage toLeviathan.
He stepped forward, and I stepped back. Behind me, the arm jumped. Mannequin was using the telescoping blade to help push it in the right direction. It was trying to take a circuitous route around me.
My bugs made their eighth sweep past the headless Mannequin.
He lunged for me once again. This time, there was no blocking the hit, no letting my armor absorb it. His movements were ungainly, unbalanced by his lack of an arm, but he stood nine feet tall, usually, and that meant he hadreach, no matter the type of weapon he was wielding.
I backed off, rapidly stepping away, all too aware that my spiders weren't working fast enough to stop him before he landed a hit. I was swiftly running out of room to retreat.
There was a sound, a heavy impact followed by the noise of ringing metal. Mannequin stopped and whirled on the spot, striding back the way he'd come.
The sound came again. I chased, trying not to limp, knowing there was little I could do to stop the monster. I crossed half the factory floor before I saw what had earned Mannequin's attention.
The man who'd helped me with Mannequin had the concrete block in his hand, and for the third time, be brought it down on Mannequin's head. The head came free of the chain and fell to the ground, rolling briefly.
The man hefted the cinder block again, saw Mannequin approaching, and changed his mind. He dropped the block onto the head and then ran.

Ok, he's just a totally random bystander, but a VERY BADASS one indeed. If more people would have jumped in Skitter and his help, I think they'd have put Mannequin down till now. But I can understand why they don't do anything. They don't have super-powers and they're too afraid of this monster. They also have kids to protect. Anyway, Mannequin now is headless AND without a hand. But he's still fighting with Coil's nano-knife who can cut Skitter's costume. Great, he never gives up "sighs". Come on, dude, admit your defeat and give up already. I finished my icecream and cookies and now I'm starting to be terrified again (THE TRUTH IS: I was this entire time TERRIFIED OUT OF MY MIND and I lost precious time taking breaks from reading even if it might doesn't appear like this. Even with cookies, I'm still feel very uncomfortable)

Mannequin didn't give chase to his attacker. Instead, he stooped down to pick up his head, then stood straight. I stopped where I was.
For long moments, Mannequin held the head at arm's length. Then it fell to the ground.
Seconds stretched on as his arm flopped its way towards him. My spiders swarmed it, surrounding it in silk. Only the blade was really allowing it to move, now, the fingers struggling around the silk to move it into position for the next sudden thrust of the blade.
Mannequin turned his attention to his arm, and I set my swarm on it. A thousand threads of silk, each held by as many flying insects as I could grip it with, all carrying the arm aloft. I brought it up to the ceiling, and began fixing it in place, building a cocoon around it.
My enemy turned his attention to me, his shoulders facing me square-on. As he no longer had a head, I found his body language doubly hard to read. Had I irritated him, doing that?

He stepped forward, as if to lunge, and the silk that wreathed him hampered his full range of movement. His leg didn't move as far as he intended, and his missing arm displaced his sense of balance. He collapsed.
"Want to keep going?" I asked his fallen form, my heart in my throat. I stood ready to jump and react at a moment's notice.
Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet again. Twice, he used the knife to slash at the silk. On the second attempt, I hit him with the formation of bugs for an eighth sweep of the silk net, hoping to throw him off-balance enough that he'd stab himself. No such luck.
Standing straight, Mannequin shifted his grip on his knife and then raised one finger. Wagged it left and right, that same gesture of disapproval, condemnation.
Then he turned to leave, striding for the door. I didn't try to stop him. I didn't have it in me.
I watched him leave with my bugs. Felt him get three, four, then five blocks away with my power, before he was out of my range. The second he was gone, all the strength went out of my legs. I collapsed onto my knees in the center of the room.
I hurt all over. If Mannequin hadn't broken something in my ribs or collarbone, he'd fractured something. But pain was only part of it. Physically, I was exhausted. Emotionally? Doubly so.
Charlotte appeared at my side and offered me a hand. The murmurs of conversation started to sound around me. I tuned it out. I couldn't take the criticism, and I didn't deserve any praise. How many people had been hurt while I fought Mannequin? How many people had died because I hadn't been on the alert?
With Charlotte's help, I stood. I shook my head at her offer for support standing. Moving slowly and carefully, not wanting to embarrass myself, I walked over to the dismembered head.
It was miniscule, but there was a drop of black fluid beading at the seam in the neck where the chain had been threaded. Apparently that was enough of a flaw for Mannequin to abandon it. I left it where it was.
Then I hobbled over to the body of the gray-haired doctor. Getting onto my knees was painful, but I did. I gently turned her head and stared into her open eyes. Light blue, surprised.
"I'm sorry," I told her.
I couldn't think of anything more to add or say. A minute or two passed before I gave up on it. I left her eyes open; using my fingertips to close her eyes seemed presumptuous and trite.
I cut the threads with my bugs and let the arm fall from the ceiling. More than one person was startled at the sudden drop and impact.
"Throw the head and the arm into the ocean," I said, to nobody in particular. "If you can find a boat, drop it somewhere deep."
"Okay," Charlotte said, her voice quiet.
"I'm going to go. I'll be using my bugs to watch for more trouble," I said, as I began limping toward the door.
I'd won. So to speak.

YOU WON! YOU FUCKING WON! EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T KILLED HIM, YOU TAUGHT HIM A LESSON TO NEVER MESS WITH YOU AGAIN. YES, HE WILL GO FOR A SECOND ROUND WHEN HE'LL FIX HIMSELF BUT HE'LL NEVER FORGET THIS DEFEAT. HE LEFT LIKE A COWARD BECAUSE HE COULDN'T DO ANYTHING ANYMORE AGAINST YOU OR YOUR PEOPLE. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU, MY GIRL.

Good night and sleep well, my friends. Cause I'm going to have one hell of a good sleep with such a good and positive ending of this Chapter

.

AmbarGriss · Jun 19, 2018

When you find yourself questioning how a Tinker did something, just remember: "Powers be bullshit, yo".

Assembler · Jun 19, 2018

blackarrow said:
But he's still fighting with Coil's nano-knife who can cut Skitter's costume.

Colin's knife, not Coil's.

Mannequin's gone for now, but he shows up again next time there's an interlude.

It's very, very hard to evacuate an entire city to bomb it without alerting the targets and letting them sneak out of the blast range as well. The Nine are still dangerous, but they don't really escalate to the same level as an Endbringer, so villains are far less likely to let up the pressure and risk their lives to fight them, and as such many of the heroes can't get themselves free for long enough to make a meaningful contribution against the Nine. The Nine is also working more on a guerilla terrorism paradigm than an unstoppable monster paradigm, so you don't always even know where to send your forces, and spreading out to search for them risks defeat in detail.

blackarrow · Jun 20, 2018

Assembler said:
Colin's knife, not Coil's.

Mannequin's gone for now, but he shows up again next time there's an interlude.

It's very, very hard to evacuate an entire city to bomb it without alerting the targets and letting them sneak out of the blast range as well. The Nine are still dangerous, but they don't really escalate to the same level as an Endbringer, so villains are far less likely to let up the pressure and risk their lives to fight them, and as such many of the heroes can't get themselves free for long enough to make a meaningful contribution against the Nine. The Nine is also working more on a guerilla terrorism paradigm than an unstoppable monster paradigm, so you don't always even know where to send your forces, and spreading out to search for them risks defeat in detail.

Oh, God, I mixed up Colin with Coil, as I predicted once that is going to happen at one point. Colin doesn't deserve to be compared with Coil, not even his name. Sorry, Colin, my mistake. :redface:

As for S9, they act exactly like ISIS: they recruit people, they use terrorism to kill innocents, they's doing that for their own twisted up ideology (while ISIS is doing for their religion). In real life, a lot of countries made alliance against ISIS to take it down. The heroes can do the same thing. IGNORE other villains groups, who are not so dangerous as S9, and concentrate over S9. And there are villain groups who are fighting against S9: Fenrir Chosen/Pure/Merchants on a side and Undersiders/Travellers/Faultline Crew on the other side. Why heroes can't ignore all these villains who are too busy fighting S9 anyway for a while and concentrate their efforts to catch the big wolf? But this is a story, if everything in a story is solved how readers want, then there would be a very BORING story.

blackarrow · Jun 20, 2018

AmbarGriss said:
When you find yourself questioning how a Tinker did something, just remember: "Powers be bullshit, yo".

Yes, I agree, but Mannequin's power is more bullshit than many other bullshit powers. I mean, Taylor's ability to control so many bugs in the same time and make them do very complicated work is bullshit too but at least she explains how her power works, at times. But no explanation for how Mannequin used his power on himself to turn himself like this (I'm sure that he had all the stuff in his laboratory and he used everything to become the Mannequin and maybe he took special painkillers for pain but how he replaced each human body part with mannequin part is beyond my power to understand, unless he build a helper or he have additional telekinetic abilities).

Vegetalss4 · Jun 21, 2018

blackarrow said:
Yes, I agree, but Mannequin's power is more bullshit than many other bullshit powers. I mean, Taylor's ability to control so many bugs in the same time and make them do very complicated work is bullshit too but at least she explains how her power works, at times. But no explanation for how Mannequin used his power on himself to turn himself like this (I'm sure that he had all the stuff in his laboratory and he used everything to become the Mannequin and maybe he took special painkillers for pain but how he replaced each human body part with mannequin part is beyond my power to understand, unless he build a helper or he have additional telekinetic abilities).

Personally I like to take a charitable read for stuff like that, and assume that just because a story doesn't tell us exactly how something was done that don't mean that there isn't an explanation.
In this case for instance we know that Mannequin can remote control his arms, so possibly he did it in steps using that kind of automatic systems. (first install remote-control things for robosurgeon, life support and something to allow him to remain conscious. Then gradually replace body parts with new already as prepared as possible parts switching life-support as necessary, until he is done)
Or maybe he got help, or preprogrammed a robot, or so on. In that case the story will tell us if it becomes relevant.

Also a heads up for the next chapter, like you asked : it contains mentions of Mannequin and a brief appearance of literal mannequins.

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

Anti-nihilist(maybe).

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

SPACE!

Sometimes frustrated.

Anti-nihilist(maybe).

Anti-nihilist(maybe).

very not good

Anti-nihilist(maybe).

Sometimes frustrated.

Witch of Faith

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

Rocking the life

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

Rocking the life