Hello, my friends. Time for another Torture- Chapter of this Torture- Arc, a new Chapter that will make me sob even before I'll reach its end, just like all other Chapters did. I will tell you something, I'm not happy to have to read this Chapter, I'm not happy at all. I'm actually the opposite of happy- extremely unhappy, the whole Arc being an emotional mess for me.
BUT, and there's a BUT, I also like it a lot, just as much as I hate it (I think I said this already a couple of times) and for this reason alone, I'm coming back to torture myself a little more with each reading. Don't get me wrong, please, my dears, its not because of this Arc I stopped liveblogging each day, there's another reason, a reason called: REAL LIFE.
Yep, real life STILL EXISTS and never let me forget this sad truth. But when it decides to have mercy of my soul and let me take a break -from time to time- then nothing can stop me anymore to read more Worm and liveblog while I read it. Alright, now that the things are cleared, lets go back to the story. As I promised last time, I'll tell you what I think about Noelle's powers, now that I learned a little more about her. The unexpected, frightening and sad moment when Krouse discovered the eye inside Noelle's thigh, looking at him accusatory. Noelle will turn into a monster- both literally and figuratively. Her body already started to change during Travelers' Arc and I can imagine her looking now somehow like Broken Victoria- with additional limbs, eyes, heads all over her body. Why? Because my theory about her powers changed a bit. She doesn't eat and digest people, she eats and ASSIMILATE people, massing them into her body. Probably that eye belonged to someone that she ate and assimilated, and if she'll keep eating people and assimilate, she'll get a lot of their limbs and organs inside and outside her body. She'll become a giant mess of tangled members and organs, more scary looking than any Endbringer. And almost as powerful as any Endbringer.
Since she obviously could control the eye- making it look accusatory at Krouse and the others- she seem to have the Master classification (great, another fucked up inside her head Master!) and maybe she'll be able to use the powers of the parahumans that she's eating, like Glaistig Uaine. So, she'll be a mess of dozens if not hundreds if not thousands of different people and different powers. A monster with possible all the powers. Wow, if my theory will turn to be true, all I can say is...POOR NOELLE. No matter what she'll do, no matter who she'll assimilate, I will always feel bad for her. She'll have to die and I'll absolute agree (and give them my full support) with whoever will kill her but I'm sure that I'm going to cry when she'll be put out of her misery (and others' misery). Poor Noelle....
Migration 17.8
"He'll be one minute," the woman at the front desk spoke.
Trickster nodded.
"If you'd like to take a seat…" The woman trailed off.
"I prefer to stand."
"As you wish."
"Can I smoke?"
"No."
"If I open a window-"
The woman at the desk frowned. "My employer is… particular."
"I've heard."
"If you leave the cigarette butts lying around, or if this room smells too strongly of smoke after you've left, he will be upset."
"I understand."
"It's your funeral," she said.
Trickster stepped over to the window, found the latch, and swung it open. He rested his elbows on it and leaned out, drew a cigarette and lit it, being sure to hold it and exhale outside of the window.
The Boston skyline stretched out before him, with the ocean in the distance. Over the last year and three months, he'd picked up on how things were subtly different in this world. It wasn't explicit, wasn't overt, but he couldn't help but notice that all of the newer constructions were sturdier. Buildings were more reinforced, just a little thicker where supports were required, as though disaster was always at the periphery of the designer's attention. At the same time, windows were often larger, and many apartments had floor-to-ceiling windows for a wider view of the world beyond.
How had Jess put it? This world was sublime. A world that was awesome in the truer sense of the word, greater in so many respects. In a metaphorical sense, the peaks were higher, the valleys lower, works of art more artful, extremes more… extreme. It wasn't a good thing. Make the mountains twice as tall and the chasms twice as deep, and things start crumbling.
He missed home, but every day, every week, home felt a little further away.
"Accord will see you now, Trickster."
Trickster nodded, crushed his cigarette against the outside of the building, flicked it over the ledge, and then stepped away to close and latch the window before entering the office. He was sure to remove his hat.
Supervillains were weird. Every one of them had different rules, different aesthetics, different goals.
Alright, some time had passed between Chapters. There are not Proto-Travelers anymore, now they're the part-time villains Travelers, working under their codenames and looking after alliances with other villains. I'm curious to see Cody's codename, hope isn't something stupid like: Reverse Boy or Reverse Man or Time Guy or Krouse.Must.Die.And.I'll.Make.Sure.Its.Going.To.Happen.Over.And.Over.Again.
These codenames are beyond stupid, however the last one seem to be more logical, given the nature of their not-so-happy relationship.
Now, its time to get to know a new villain. A villain with a secretary, looks like. A rich villain, maybe a businessman? Accord. His codename is kind of shitty, but doesn't sound too bad. He's either a politician or a businessman, right? His power...force people to sign accords with him through mind-control? Make people be in agreement with him, even when he's not right? Another Master? I wonder why Trickster wants to work with a diplomatic villain who'd kill people over a cigarette.
All of them, himself included, had their own issues.
Accord wasn't the most influential figure in Boston. That was why Trickster had approached him. He didn't even look like a supervillain. He looked like a CEO. Only an ornate mask with curling, overlapping bands of dark metal trimmed in silver marked him as anything more. His hair was oiled and neatly parted, and his white suit had been brushed clean with immaculate care.
Trickster doubted there was even a fingerprint or a glimmer of tarnish on Accord's silver tie pin. For all his presence, Accord was barely over five feet in height.
For his part, Trickster had taken care to clean his own clothing and comb his own hair. It was becoming a ritual, entering a new city. One typically had to find the meeting place. Virtually every city with ten or more supervillains had one, a neutral ground for the villains to meet. He would then find the people in the know, pay some of the money he'd held on to from the last city to get the necessary information on who was who and how they operated, and move on from there. He'd been briefed thoroughly on Accord.
"Trickster, was it?"
"Yes," Trickster stepped forward. He offered his hand.
Accord shook it, his grip strong.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'm observing formalities. My team, as you may know, tends to move from location to location, city to city. It's a bad idea to settle down for any length of time in an area owned by a local power, so I wanted to ask permission first."
"I see."
"If you saw fit to grant that permission, I would then ask if you'd let us engage in some minor activity. Robbing low-level stores, primarily. Possibly a bank. All in your area."
"If I granted that permission, Trickster," Accord raised a warning finger. "I would not be doing so for free."
Trickster nodded. "I understand, and I wouldn't expect you to. We've recently passed through Richmond, Paine, Baltimore and Philadelphia. Each time, we paid a modest up front fee to anyone that hosted us in their territory. We also offered up a twelve, thirteen, twelve and ten percent share, respectively, of our take. For you, if you'll allow me to make an opening offer, I'd suggest ten thousand dollars up front and a fourteen percent share of anything we gain. We'll be saying for ten days."
"So you'll give me fourteen percent when you offered less to others. You think you're flattering me."
"Yes. We're staying a little bit longer here. We looked into it, the heroes don't have a strong presence here in your Charlestown territory. We can get away with just a little bit more."
"Don't think I won't look into the amounts you just gave me." Accord was using a stylized fountain pen to make a note on a pad of paper. Trickster wasn't entirely sure, but the paper didn't seem to have lines, and Accord was still making them meticulous, with neat, tight, flowing script.
"I wouldn't lie," Trickster said. "That's a good way to get killed, and I rather like being alive."
"It has its moments," Accord said. He wiped the end of the fountain pen and snapped the lid into place. The pen joined all the other objects on the desk, arranged with explicit care to even spacing and hard right angles. It was almost artistic, the way things were arranged for both size and utility, and the uniform nature of the aesthetics, with the colors and materials seeming to flow from object to object. Silver and wood in dark cherry.
Accord looked down and corrected the position of the pen on his desk before turning back to Trickster. "Fifteen thousand dollars, and fifteen percent of any take. The heroes don't have a strong presence here because they don't needa strong presence here. I maintain the peace. It will cost me if I have people here, active and causing trouble."
A little steep. "I'll have to discuss that with my teammates."
"Before you do, let me make you an alternate offer. You do mercenary work?"
"We do."
"I'd like to hire you for a task."
"What task?"
"I'd like certain items stolen from a rival. I can describe them to you and show you photographs. Do this for me, and we'll waive the fee for entering my territory. Also, I'll concede to have my share cut down to a mere ten percent."
I think I like this Accord guy. He seems smart, polite and diplomatic, he knows how to make deals with people (his codename, duh) and he's so small in height he's almost cute, despite his dark and business-like nature.
I PRAY for him to not turn to be a second Coil, keeping children locked in his basement because he needs them to help him getting all the power. Maybe this is the reason why I hated Coil (and I still hate him) more than supervillains like Jack, for example. Because he was the kind of villain who did the 3 most unacceptable villainous things in my books: a child abuser (for me, the WORST and most hated villains ever are the ones who abuse/kill children. Everytime when I read about them, I just want to teleport in that fictional world and rip them in pieces with my bare hands, this is exactly how much I HATE them
), a power hungry dictator (villains who want only power in the end are the second worst) and a manipulator (any villain who subject people to manipulation or mind/emotion/body control is absolute horrible in my opinion
). Coil was a power hungry and child abuser exploiter with no redeeming qualities. I really don't want for Accord to walk on his steps. Accord seems also like a character that I can identify with, given his obsession for arranging his desk in a perfect order. Everything in my house is arranged as harmoniously as possible. I lost precious time every day arranging and re-arranging everything (small and big stuff) until they're in such a perfect order that I feel good with myself.
If something is not in the right order, I feel almost sick and I can't feel well again until I'll bring it back in its order. I also repeat some actions few times in a row. So, this is the main reason why I understand's Accord's OCD because we both know the PAIN (I'm sure that there are people here who know and understand our pain too). So, this is the character that my friend told me about, a character with strong OCD that is so damn relatable.
However, I didn't expected to be a villain who look nothing like a villain.
"Blasto. A tinker. Not quite the destructive personality his name implies."
"I read up on him. Blasto from the latin prefix, meaning bud, germination or seed. Tinker botanist, grows walking, sentient plants in giant glass tubes."
Accord gave Trickster an approving nod. "Yes. Tinkers are… bothersome. Tinkers who work wet are especially bothersome. They build, they learn from past research and past projects, each thing is created more elegantly or fasterwith the tools they've designed and amassed over time. A tinker designs a better welding torch, to use an analogy, and that allows him or her to build a better power drill. And so the cycle continues. Steal Blasto's tools for my trophy case, it will set him back weeks or months. I'll give you a further bonus if you destroy any other projects of his, as well as any computers or blueprints."
"Dangerous, to attack a tinker in his lair."
Ok, I like this Chapter. So far, it didn't made me cry, like the previous ones and is filled with VERY INTERESTING characters
. First, we he have Accord, the diplomatic and order-loving villain, but an intelligent and fair guy, and now we have Blasto, a Tinker that Travelers should attack with the mission to destroy his work. Oh, God, please, don't tell me that this Blasto have a wife and children and they might accidentally die during the attack because I'll flip my shit. Tinkers are the most unstable, sensible and dangerous people around and Mannequin was enough for me, so I don't need a second Mannequin. Well, seeing his specialty, a batshit insane Blasto will not turn into a featureless shell doll, but into a FREAKING LIVING FOREST. He'll become the....Sapient Forest.
Killing people with the power of WILD AND UNTAMED MOTHER NATURE. Throwing spikes and thorns to his victims and strangle them with vines. Horror. No, but seriously. Travelers have to destroy the work of a Tinker who create SENTIENT (and probably sapient too) plants. Travelers are fucked in their heads by their more than unfortunate experience with Simurgh. Simurgh doesn't like Tinkers too much, especially if they have wives and children. For the love of God, Blasto, don't fucking dare to be married and a father.
Btw, I wonder if Blasto can create sunflowers who give people money, cannon plants who shoot pea artillery or potato mines. Then prepare himself for the Zombieapocalypse, using his plants as soldiers against zombies. The other parallel Earths would find out about his adventures and turn them into a theme for a very popular tower defense video game. Everyone: Plants vs Zombies may exist thanks to Blasto and his army of sentient plants. :lol Can't wait to get to know this guy. Tinkers truly are the best ones. The laws of physics and everything else are putty in their hands.
"Ah, you want more than just the waiving of your hospitality fee?"
Trickster was careful to be diplomatic. "No offense intended. If Blasto was that easy to handle, I'm sure you would have dealt with him already."
"Agreed. Hm. As you surely already know, I am a craftsman. Not a tinker, but I use my power to create quality goods."
"I'm aware."
"I will pay you a moderate sum, and I will also supply a set of costumes for your team. Use your free time over the coming week to make notes on what you desire. Newspaper clippings, printed images or links to online images each of you individually like. They do not necessarily need to be of costumes or clothing. I would meet each of your teammates to assess their preferences. With
that, I can guarantee you costumes that everyone in your group will like."
And you bring the world a little more in order, Trickster thought. Accord was a thinker, and the running theory on his power was that he got naturally smarter as the problems he was addressing got more complex. It gave him an intuitive understanding of groupthink, politics, and convoluted designs. It also made him a local warlord capable of devastating counterattacks. The power failed to grant him the same advantages in a one-on-one fight, and he wasn't quite the same battlefield strategist when it came to direct assaults.
Which was, Trickster understood, why Accord wanted him and the other Travelers to handle the attack on their own.
"Only four of us need costumes," Trickster said. "The other can make her own."
"Only four costumes? When there are seven of you?" Accord's tone made it all too clear that he knew he was admitting knowledge he shouldn't have.
He knows about Noelle.
"When there are seven of us, yes," Trickster said, feigning a lack of concern.
The door banged open. Trickster tensed, his power reaching, even before he saw the threat.
It was Sundancer, with the receptionist following quickly behind.
Idiot, Trickster thought. I told you to stay back.
"Trickster," she said. Then she saw Accord. "I'm sorry for interrupting."
"The deal was for a one-on-one meeting," Accord said. His tone was strained, indignant. Accord looked at his receptionist. "You didn't warn her at the door?"
"I tried," the receptionist said. "She charged on through."
"It's an emergency," Sundancer said. "Trickster, we-"
"Shut up," he said, and the tension in his voice coupled with Accord's seemed to clue Sundancer into the gravity of the situation.
She fell silent. She's smarter than this, which means the situation's bad. But I can't do anything about it until I finish dealing with Accord.
His heart was pounding. "Go wait outside, Sundancer. I was in the middle of a meeting. If Accord is willing, we'll wrap up this business quickly, I'll… offer him something by way of apology, and then I'll come and talk to you about the issue."
Sundancer backed towards the door, turned and left.
"Very sorry, sir," the receptionist murmured. She closed the door.
Accord stepped over to the window behind his desk and stared outside. Trickster waited patiently as the man composed himself. Long seconds passed, and Trickster couldn't help but imagine the worst case scenarios that would have Sundancer forgetting common sense and crashing a private meeting between supervillains.
"I am something of an oxymoron, Trickster," Accord said, turning around. He was measuring his words, stretching out the sentence, as though he were fully aware that Trickster was now in a hurry, and he wanted to apply pressure.
"Is that so?"
"You see, I deal with complicated things," Accord touched his mask, "And I excel at them, but deep down, I'm a very simple person."
"I think we're all very simple when you look past the surface," Trickster said.
"Quite so. I like order, Trickster. Order means everything has its place," Accord touched his desk, moved his chair a fraction of an inch so it was squarely in place. "And everyone has their place. Your subordinate's place was not here."
"I understand. I'm willing to make amends."
"Of course," Accord said. He looked up and met Trickster's eyes. "I will be rescinding my earlier generosity. Fifteen thousand dollars will find a way into my hands within the next twenty-four hours."
"Agreed," Trickster said. There goes our pocket money.
"You'll do my favor for me and expect no recompense."
"Okay."
Accord paused, seemed to consider something. "She'll have to die, of course."
Trickster tensed. Really, really didn't want to have to fight this guy. "Let's… not be so hasty."
"There are two kinds of people in this world, Trickster. Some fit into the intricate machine that is society, and they serve as cogs, gears, levers and weights. I think you're like that. I liked you right off. Even your power… balance, isn't it? Move things from one place to the next, but things remain fundamentally equivalent."
"Well said," Trickster replied. His mind was racing. How to convince the lunatic to leave Sundancer alone? If he couldn't, would it be better to fight and kill Accord now or wait until he could recruit the others? Accord wouldn't have invited him to a meeting if he didn't have some kind of safeguards. Traps? For all Trickster knew, there was a pitfall in the floor or dart traps in the walls.
Accord's power, his knack for complexity, would make it trivial to weave such things into the architecture of his home and office.
If he knew, he could use his power, time it to put Accord in the way of his own trap… but it could be something else entirely.
Accord was still talking. "Others aren't so accommodating. They are freefalling, careening elements, bouncing off any and every surface, damaging everything they touch. Pyrokinetics so often fall into this category, I've found. Rest assured, it's better to eliminate this disordered element before it does too much damage."
Trickster couldn't find the words to reply. Think, Krouse, think!
"What a shame, such a young girl," Accord sounded genuinely upset.
Ok, so Accord is a Thinker with an insane obsession for order (man, your pain is my pain) and the ability to become more intelligent if the problems he have to solve are more complicated. Dude, why did you become a villain instead of a hero? I mean, you could have found the cure for cancer or how to stop the melting of glaciers or how to stop the hunger in Africa and so on...Since you can find intelligent solutions to more complicated world problems, then I think no other problems are more complicated than these ones.
Well, there are Endbringers but I think that not even someone like Accord is able to discover how to kill them, otherwise he'd have done it by now. Villain or not, his life will be in danger too if an Endbringer will attack Boston, so he have all the interest to see them dead.
But anyway, its sad how such a USEFUL superpower is wasted because its owner decided that its better to be evil instead of good.
Well, I should not judge him before I'll get to know him better, maybe he isn't such an evil villain but when I read that he wants to kill Sundancer only because she interrupted his meeting, I can't think at him as a not-so-evil villain type. Yes, he CLEARLY feels sorry for her, but he still wants to kill her because she disturbed his ORDER. As much as I'm insanely obsessed with order myself, I won't kill people over something so mundane like interrupting me or messing with my stuff. Yes, I'm angry and I feel sick when I see people letting everything in disorder, especially my stuff, but I don't even yell at them or act like a bitch towards them. I pretend to ignore then when they're not paying attention, I quickly start to arrange/re-arrange everything in the most right order.
I have more self-control than Accord. Gosh, I know that Sundancer is still alive in present and now I wonder how Trickster will manage to convince Accord that killing her will not bring order back into his life.
"What if…" Trickster started, his mind racing.
"Yes?"
"What if I told you she was an agent of order in the universe? That this situation, it's not her that's causing the discord? Like us, she's just reacting to another force?"
"You don't know the details any more than I do."
"True. But I know her."
"You're biased by virtue of being her teammate. I see no other way than to act decisively. Would you like to do the honors, or should I?"
"I'll show you what I mean. She'll show you."
"Oh?"
"Just give me a second to go get her. Maybe a bit of time to prepare-"
"Ten minutes, Trickster, and only because I like you."
"Ten minutes," Trickster answered him.
"And she comes alone. If she's truly an ordered individual, she'll show me for herself."
Trickster nodded, turned and walked calmly out of the office, counting in his head.
The second the door was closed, he bolted, checking the time on his cell phone. That'll be ten minutes exactly. He set a timer, subtracting the time it had taken him to leave the office.
The entrance that led to Accord's personal office was set in an alley, out of sight of the streets. Trickster found Sundancer waiting.
"Trickster, it's-"
"Stop," he said, checking the phone. Seven minutes left. "Where's your phone?"
She pulled it from her belt, "We-"
He used his power to swap her cell phone for his. "No, listen carefully. You just threw a neurotic, perfectionist supervillain's world into disarray by intruding on our meeting like that. He's now rather intent on executing you for it."
"What?"
"And he's a little guy with some big muscle at his beck and call. We could maybe deal with them in a pinch, but it wouldn't be pretty. So I'm going to use your phone, call another member of our team to get filled in the emergency. You're going to fix your mistake, and you'll do it in… six minutes and twenty-three seconds. Look at the screen of my phone. That's your deadline. Go, stop by a bathroom, tidy your hair, get it wet and comb it if you have to, but look proper. Better to look neat than to look pretty, understand? When the timer hits zero, you'll walk into his office, then you'll perform a ballet routine."
"Ballet? Krouse, I haven't done it seriously in two years."
"Pick a routine you can do perfectly over one that's fancier or whatever. Do it, apologize profusely for the intrusion, then bow out and leave. If he gives any sign he's not satisfied, or the second you fuck up, set the place on fire and scram."
"Krouse-"
"Call me Trickster when I'm in costume," he corrected, his voice hard. "Don't worry about burning him alive. He'll have escape routes. You have five minutes and forty seconds, now. It took me three to get from his office to here. Go."
Sundancer is going to perform ballet in order to convince Accord that she deserves a second chance. Good idea, Trickster, because ballet is a dance of order, grace and discipline and Accord will be more than ok especially if her performance is good enough.
I'm sure she's going to be excellent, after all...she survived. This Accord guy...I like him, I seriously like him, even if he can be such a crazy jerk if the perfect order is broken. He's one of these villainous jerks that are also fascinating and interesting and refined and exquisite that I can't help but like them, despite being monsters in their own ways. The other example that come to my mind is Marquis.
Marquis is a monster who wasn't afraid to kill maybe countless of men and isn't afraid to use his own daughter to keep his influence and power in prison, but he's also a lovable villain, a gentleman and one of the best parents in this story. Accord is quite similar (but he doesn't have the no-kill-women policy) and looks like he doesn't enjoy what he's doing but he feels - in his ridiculous OCD- influenced mind- that he have to do it, otherwise the whole order of the world will be destroyed beyond any possibility to ever be fixed again. Such a crazy villain with some good aspects of his personality...so far I like him.
Maybe my opinion about him will change if he'll appear again in further Chapters and possible in present too and will start doing things that bother me, but until then he's sympathetic in a weird way, partial relatable and pretty original. Wildbow, I give you my full accord to continue exploring this character, his power, personality and life in further Chapters. :lol
Sundancer rushed to get inside.
Trickster called Oliver.
"Marissa?" Oliver asked.
"It's Trickster," he replied. Need to talk about being more secure with our names. "What's going on?"
"It's Cody. He touched Noelle."
Trickster froze. "How bad is it?"
"Three times, Krouse."
"Three," Trickster said. "Fuck me. I'm on my way."
There's no way Cody's stupid enough to make contact with Noelle.
There's no way anyone would do it three times. How?
Throwing caution to the wind, Trickster moved through the crowd of people by swapping with them, zig-zagging from one side of the street to the other, scanning the crowd. People ran to get away from him as he appeared, but he didn't care. Just needed to minimize the damage.
Minimize the damage. It's becoming a running theme.
He found his target not by spotting him, but by seeing the reaction from the crowd. People were hurrying to get out of his way, running away.
The guy was naked, covered in gnarly, tumorous growths, and was moving at a limping run, attacking anyone he could get his hands on. One of his arms was larger than the other, and a fluid-filled blister covered his entire stomach, sloshing with the contents. His jaw didn't fit right, and had dislocated on one side, giving him a lopsided yawn.
A man shoved him and ran, sweeping his two children up in his arms as he fled.
Three seconds later, the man snapped back into the same position, in front of the creature. Perdition… Cody. Except not quite. The man carried through the shoving motion, but Perdition wasn't there any more. Shoving empty space, the man stumbled and was clubbed over the neck and shoulders with a massive, misshapen fist. He hit the ground with enough force that Trickster doubted he'd rise again.
The two children had fallen to the sidewalk when the man disappeared. Perdition advanced on them.
Trickster crossed the street, swapping himself for one of the people who was fleeing the scene. The children were running, but Perdition wasn't one to let his targets slip out of his grasp. The six year old didn't get more than three steps before getting reset to his original position.
"Hey!" Trickster called out. "I'm the one you want!"
Perdition spun around, and Trickster was already swapping himself for someone else, not allowing his opponent more than a glance.
Hide in the crowd. Can't allow him a chance to get me.
"Kroushe!" Perdition screamed. He couldn't completely close his mouth, and slurred the words.
Inconvenient.
"Keell you! Mehk it shlow, mehk you beg an' crah and sheht yershelf lekk a baby!"
The little kid was getting away. Trickster allowed himself a sigh of relief.
"Shheh wush mine! An' you ruinn herr!" Perdition screamed at a volume that distorted his voice even further, left it ragged.
Trickster winced.
"Muh cahreer, muh frenndsh, my guhll! You 'ook hem! Yer a 'hief!"
Some of the time, the powers would be different. Most of the time, going by precedent, they were stronger. Trickster was left to wonder how Perdition's powers had changed. Duration? Range? The amount of time reversed?
Then his surroundings flickered, half the crowd disappearing.
Trickster didn't waste a second in swapping himself elsewhere, moving across the street.
Perdition was only just turning in the direction of where Trickster had been.
He doesn't need to see me now?
Trickster saw everything shift again.
He's got a lock on me. Not as strong when he does it this way, but he can track me, force little jumps backward.
Perdition charged, and the crowd scattered.
He reached for his belt, saw another shift, and Perdition was suddenly twenty feet closer, a few steps away. With no time to follow through, Trickster swapped himself out of the way.
-And only belatedly recalled that he was putting another person in Perdition's path. Perdition knocked a young woman to the ground, grabbed her, and then slammed her into a wall.
She wouldn't have survived the impact.
"Kroushe!" Perdition roared.
Another shift hit. They're about ten seconds apart, and he's hitting me for anywhere from one to five seconds each time.
Perdition was halfway across the street. With the way the crowd was scattering and the number of available people to swap with was dwindling, he was running out of options. He could run or he could stay and fight, virtually powerless.
He stayed, reached to his side, and unbuckled the largest pouch on his belt.
Perdition was getting closer. He seemed to have only a general sense of where Trickster was, wide, mad, bulging eyes roving over the crowd.
Trickster swapped himself for someone else, waited until Perdition started to turn, then did another swap.
Perdition paced from one side of the street to the sidewalk, between the last two of Trickster's chosen destinations.
Only one or two seconds were left before the next automatic time skip.
Trickster swapped himself for the body of the girl who Perdition had thrown into the wall, drew his gun and fired it, all in one smooth motion. Screams of alarm erupted in the wake of the gunshot.
He stepped closer, then emptied the remainder of the clip into Perdition's head and chest.
He swapped himself for someone in the lingering crowd, grabbed the closest person. "I hope you own a car. Because you're going to lend it to me. Fast."
Oh, my God, oh, my God. So, first thing, Cody's codename is Perdition, meaning Hell in Christian theology. FITS him so well since he can put his victims into a time loop until he gets bored or tired.
Their own personal hell. One of the BEST codenames, I like it very much. Ok, now that I know Cody's codename, I think I have a better understanding of Noelle's power. She can...clone people. Oliver said that Perdition touched her 3 times. Trickster is already used with running after "Perdition" and trying to stop him from killing people (RIP the bystander woman killed by Trickster but I'm glad that he managed to save the kids
) and he even asked himself what kind of new power skill "Perdition" had that time. "Perdition" was also naked, covered in tumorous growths, everything pointing that he was in fact not the real Perdition but a clone of him. So, this is how I understand the things are working (maybe I'm wrong and isn't really about cloning): if someone touches Noelle, she instantly clones them (they can use their powers too if they're parahumans), they apparently are still "themselves" ("Perdition" have all the memories of the real Perdition but he couldn't talk properly because if his dislocated jaws) and they seem pretty murderous (or at least this "Perdition") or maybe Noelle can control them and since she becomes a monster (in more ways) she have no problem using her clones to kill as many people as possible. If my cloning theory is true, imagine Noelle touching Taylor and cloning her. Or WORSE....Eidolon. Two Eidolon clones and she'll rule the whole fucking world with no problem.
Fuck, I'd rather prefer the theory with eating and assimilating people than cloning them.
I'm going to continue with this Chapter maybe tomorrow (but I don't promise anything, just to let you know).
Good night and sleep well, my dear friends. 
Marissa, your mother is a Thing that should not be called a mother. She's a Megabitch who only cared of your success not because it was your success but because she considered it as being HER success. She never loved her daughter, she only took advantage of Marissa's hardworking and talent. This is CHILD ABUSE. 
He's too busy being a total JERK towards Krouse than to put his power to a good use. Fucking Cody, you're acting now like a spoiled brat. Leave Krouse alone, stop hating him because Noelle loves him more than she loved you. He did more for Noelle than you ever did. He ended up destroying her, yes, but his intentions were good. What you ever did for her except for acting like an Alpha "My woman, my property, grunt, grunt!" Caveman? You fucking idiot. All fucking idiots get great powers.