So, this was the reason for Lung's failure to kill Leviathan. Because he was too powerful FOR Leviathan![]()
I'm not so sure about that. It comes across in the interlude that having other Capes around seeing him fight plays a role in it.
So, this was the reason for Lung's failure to kill Leviathan. Because he was too powerful FOR Leviathan![]()
"Weaver," the voice had a slight digital twang at the edges, to the point that I thought it was Bakuda for a second, even if the two voices were entirely different.
I lowered my book. Defiant stood in the doorway to my cell, flanked by two of the prison guards.
I swung my feet to the ground, simultaneously sitting up. "If you'd asked me a few weeks ago, I'm not sure I would have believed that I'd actually be happy to see you."
"You'll be coming back," he warned me. "This is a temporary leave."
Taylor, talking from her Cell with"And in the midst of all that, you're still trying to find time for you," I said.
"Free time is the easiest thing to sacrifice," Defiant said. "It costs you, to give it up, but there's little guilt. Time to yourself is best spent preparing. Developing new technology, strategizing, adjusting equipment-"
Told you that this prison is piece of cake for Taylor. She may feel alone and trapped, but she have plenty of things to do in order to forget about isolation and boredom, so far her status as prisoner in a medium security prison seem pretty bearable compared with the alternatives. The heroes are pretty generous with her, given the fact that she just killed two of their "best" people. But they know that they'll need her in the future so they don't treat her as a dangerous criminal and risk alienating her. They want to make her feel "welcomed" in their world...well, as welcomed as someone who was a villain and who hurt heroes in the past can beAs far as I could figure it out, it was everything I might have expected from a medium security prison, complete with a station that controlled the opening and closing of cell doors, constant supervision, and escorts wherever we went. The only difference was the emphasis on programs. We were here to be rehabilitated, to find work, get an education and get therapy. All mandated.
"I know you capes are magnets for trouble. If a fight happened to erupt while you were en route and it came down to you fighting back or getting stabbed, I expect you to get stabbed and then graciously thank your attacker, you understand?"
This should continue with:
"We have a no-tolerance policy on powers, Ms. Hebert."
"Yes ma'am."
"What appeared to be an emerging case of body lice in the main prison seems to have abruptly corrected itself, according to our physicians. The roach traps in the kitchen aren't catching anything, either."
"Yes ma'am."
"My power is always on. It takes a conscious effort to block them out and let them act normally. I feel what they feel, sense what they sense, sort of. It's… not fun with lice, crawling around in prisoner's pubic hair, you know? Being aware of that, across eighteen, nineteen prisoners, twenty-four-seven?"
"My concern, Ms. Hebert, is what you're doing with those bugs."
Even if it means letting them have lice? I didn't say that last part.
"We're alike in some ways," Defiant said, from his seat at the controls. I sat behind him, having belted myself in.
"We've both been leaders. We've both made our mistakes, and we've faced a form of detention for it. You with your prison, me with my retirement."
"Not a leader," Defiant answered me. "Not unless you count the artificial intelligences that operate the other suits. But her prison? It remains worse than any you or I have faced."
"Guard duty at the quarantine area in Madison, perhaps, or a town without a cape presence, where you'd be doing little more than making appearances and talking to kids."
"I'm… I don't want to sound arrogant, but I'm better than that."
"In the lead, we have Prism, second in command of the New York team," Defiant told me.
Aw, come on, Taylor, I'd absolute LOVE to be a guardian in a peaceful city where all I should do is to talk to kidsPrism's lips flattened into a tight line as she looked at me. We'd met, at the Mayor's house. She'd been one of Legend's people. I supposed that Chevalier would have wanted someone who knew the city and the routines as his second in command.
Revel was a woman I hadn't seen before, even in the background of the various Class-S fights. I was pretty sure I would have recognized her. She was clearly Japanese, with a painted mask covering her lower face, and a massive lantern on a stick that rested against one shoulder. She wore a white skin-tight outfit with straps at the shoulders, the legs ending mid-thigh, giving her a degree of modesty that the stylized crimson kimono didn't. The kimono hung loose around her, held in place more by belts and what must have been wires in the fabric, elbow-length and just barely long enough to be modest. Her shoulders were bare and narrow, her expression… one eyebrow was raised as she studied me.
"Dispatch, the second in command of Houston."
Prism at least had an apparent reason to dislike me, but Dispatch's expression suggested he'd come to that conclusion all on his own. His costume was white, with steel points rising from his shoulders and either side of his brow. The mask that covered the upper half of his face was sculpted into a perpetual frown. I might not have given it a second thought, but his mouth… the frown left me little doubt he didn't like me, right off the bat.
"You may recognize some of the captains of the respective Wards teams. Jouster from New York, Vantage from Los Angeles,
Tecton from Chicago and Hoyden from Austin. You know Clockblocker."
I nodded. Tecton, in what looked to be a fresh outfit of bulky rust-red power armor, gave me a salute. Jouster was playing up the medieval theme, a spear in hand, while Vantage was a black guy in forest green and silver… his costume looked a touch flamboyant, at a glance. Hoyden looked more like a desperado than a superhero, with a costume that incorporated a kerchief with eyeholes over the upper half of her face, her blond curls tumbling behind, and a jacket and jeans in what looked like black-painted chainmail.
"And I'm Glenn Chambers. PRT head of Image," a man spoke. He approached me to offer a fat hand for me to shake. He had a firm grip. Glenn didn't look like someone who was particularly invested in image. He was obese, his clothes not flattering, his hair not quite cut into a mohawk, but gelled into something resembling one. He wore rectangle-framed glasses that made it easier to see how he seemed to perpetually squint – a result of long eyelashes.
Hey, we have the occasion to know the heroine who tried to stop Krouse from leaving the hospital: Revel, the third good (I hope so, because not all heroes are such good people) asian character in the story
"She beat Alexandria," Hoyden said, "He's laughing because you're putting down the girl who killed Alexandria."
"Not a selling point," Hoyden's boss, Dispatch, cut in.
"She's an absolute nightmare to fight," Clockblocker said. "I've been on the receiving end enough times to know. So when Miss Militia told me she was in custody, I started asking questions, trying to get a sense of what was happening and when. I don't even have to be here, and I'm picking up extra patrols later this week to make up for it, but I wanted to come and say this: I don't like her, not really. But if my word counts for anything, as someone who's only spent half the time dealing with the shit in Brockton Bay that she has? We want her on our side. Somehow, in some form. Because the alternative sucks."
"She killed Alexandria," Hoyden said. "And, what, she was there for Leviathan, she was there for the Slaughterhouse Nine, for Echidna…"
"She went head to head with each of those," Clockblocker said. He looked at me. "Right? Like, you weren't just there. You were in the thick of it, exchanging blows?"
A New York group of villains is poaching Wards and Protectorate members?"
I frowned. If I said no, it'd be a black mark in my record, and some of these people were obviously not interested in giving me any slack, unless it was to hang myself with.
"Okay," I said.
"The Adepts don't kill," he said. "If there's a problem, it's on you."
Tecton was walking in front of our group, his tank of a suit giving us enough presence that the crowd parted before us. "Don't be a jackass. You know Skit- Weaver hasn't read the files. They're in your city, you fill us in."
"I know the basics," I said. I'd read the file in Tattletale's office. "They're wizards, or they pretend to be, like Myrddin. Led by a time traveller."
He gave me a hard look, then fell silent.
Am I not allowed to talk?
"Flechette was one too," he said. "She was going to lead the squad when I moved up to the Protectorate, with Shelter taking over as Wards captain."
Jouster, you JERK, the doll girl have a name and a codename. Stop calling her like this, she's not just the "doll girl""I believe it," I said.
"Seem to recall that she'd defected, joined your old team."
"I don't know anything about that, honestly," I said. "Only that she had romantic interests towards one of us Undersiders, and-"
"The doll girl," Jouster said.
Tying my hands. It was fine. "I didn't plan on using them anyways. I'm selecting the smallest and most discreet, and sending them out. It'll take a minute at most, but I'll be able to track their movements."
"Image, Weaver," it was a different man who spoke. The fat one… I couldn't remember his name. "We need to do something about appearances, here."
"Appearances?"
"The black, amorphous swarm. It conveys the wrong ideas. It's disturbing to any onlookers, and if photos of you using your power on any greater scale made the rounds, it could be fodder for some ugly articles. You already face an uphill battle, with your reputation as an ex-supervillain."
I'm not sure if this Glenn dude is an asshole who care more for PRT image than for the heroes in his care (I mean, heroes can be injured or killed anytime by EVIL PEOPLE WITH SUPERPOWERS who are more dangerous than EVIL PEOPLE WITH GUNS, but they should keep their image perfect in the public's eyes as they're not allowed to fight properly like a true hero should do, not a caricature of a hero)....Or he's just testing Taylor, now Weaver, and everyone else (except for her) know about his little game but they play along to see how far she'll go. Either way, Glenn's stupidity or smart little game will create more problems for his heroes than he probably predicted himself. Unless...unless Weaver will kick some Adepts' ass with...butterflies"Glenn is always serious," Clockblocker said. "When I first picked my name, Clockblocker, and announced it in front of a live camera so they couldn't retract it, they punished me with intensive lessons with Glenn."
"Serious as cancer," Hoyden mimicked her superior. "All Glenn cares about is the image, the PR. Up to you to figure out how to hold yourself like a 'lady' while you're dealing with street thugs with guns."
"You would know, Hoyden," Glenn said. "I'd hoped something would sink in for you, with you having more meetings with me than anyone has in the past year."
"They're really going to make me the butterfly girl?" I asked.
"Felix Swoop, tier three member of the group," Jouster said. "Master-blaster hybrid. Controls birds, but not as much control as you seem to have. Thing is, he applies fire immunity and pyrokinesis to the birds, programs them with movements. You said he's distracted?"
Shame...Shame...Shame...This Felix Swoop (another evil Master- biiiiig surprise!) can control fire birds and he doesn't call himself...Phoenix? What kind of unimaginative asshole you're, dude? Shame...Shame...Shame. Looks like he's having some fun time with another dude. NO JUDGEMENT, I just want to point out that this is not something that Weaver was eager to see though her hundreds of little spiesI noted Swoop's presence in the bedroom, tried not to pay too much attention to the particulars of what was happening inside.
"Definitely occupied."
I directed my swarm. Bugs moved through the crowd, and I organized the swarm so it was surrounded by butterflies, masking the core of the 'disturbing' black swarm within.
We'd gone over the powers in this particular group before we left. I knew what Tecton and Clockblocker were capable of, obviously. That left Vantage, Jouster and Hoyden. I could track them as they broke into the apartment.
Jouster's blaster-striker hybrid power involved his lance, a power that conducted along the usual channels, only the form it took varied. He speared through the computer, then swung the blunted side of the weapon at the couch. The woman rolled out of the way, and energy rippled away from the lance, freezing and shredding cushions.
Vantage had super strength, but his strength and reflexes scaled up as the number of opponents rose, with diminishing returns. He wasn't especiallydurable, but he packed short-range teleports. Very short-range – a matter of two or three feet, at best. He teleported to help close the gap to Swoop and slammed one hand into the man's collarbone. The woman scrambled for cover.
"Nuh uh," I could hear her speak through the earbud. She caught the cape from behind, then hurled him through the doorway, at Clockblocker. He stepped on the man's bare back, and the man was frozen.
I hurried up the stairs in double time. I reached the door frame, and I got alook from Jouster.
Jouster, are you seriously trying to win the Prize for the Asshole Hero of the year? Because you're nothing but an asshole towards Weaver who did nothing wrong to you, except for being an ex-villain who HELPED heroes and protected civilians. I can partially understand Clockbocker or Assault, they're kind of motivated to treat Weaver like crap, but Jouster? Why so much hate, dudeDefinitely intentional. He'd had his team bulldoze through the capes, leaving nothing for me. I'd provided recon, but would that be enough?
She buttoned up her jeans, then ran her thumb along the chain that ran from her belt loop to her pocket.
I smell a trap. I mean, this attack, followed by a part of Adepts being arrested was too easy and if we learned something about Wildbow, he doesn't like easy things. Either their reinforcement "cough" Perdition "cough" will arrive or one of the arrested Adepts have an ace upon his or her sleeve. Nothing is easy and without problems when it comes to villainous parahumans"Wait," I said. The chain- there were charms on it. "Those charms."
"My embellishment," she said.
"Thirteenth Hour, now," she retorted. Her eyes flared with light, and I felt my body jolt.
Thirteenth Hour collapsed, going limp in the midst of Clockblocker's suspended wires. Jouster, mid-stride, did much the same.
My thoughts were slowing down, volition gone. The others were the same. My sense of time… I was reminded of a dream I'd had, of being put under a spell by Coil. Scopolamine.
Swoop dialed a number on his phone, approached the sleeping Thirteenth Hour while holding it to his ear. He lifted her chin and kissed her, staying beside her to catch her as the cords were released.
Without me asking it to, a cockroach started chewing through the fabric. The fabric that wasn't nearly as strong as spider silk.
My "smelling sense didn't betrayed me this timeWith the hole in my mask now large enough, the cockroach wormed his way in.
And that disruption was enough to shake off Thirteenth Hour's influence. My thoughts began to coalesce into something more coherent.
Tecton reached out to the doorframe and made the building shudder with enough force that everyone stumbled.
I reached Jouster, shaking him. When he didn't rouse, I shook him harder.
Nothing. Not jarring enough.
I kicked his leg out from under him, and he sprawled.
"Fuck you," he mumbled, as he began to climb to his feet.
"Wake up Clockblocker and Vantage," I said.
"You don't give me orders," he said. He approached Swoop. The man smacked Hoyden with one more bird, whirling around to face Jouster, and then got slammed in the chest with the fattest part of the lance. The third tier Adept flew into a wall and went limp.
Jouster wanted to clean up? Fine. I tazed the hallucination guy, then hurried to Clockblocker's side. When shaking him didn't rouse him, I raised his head from the floor and then smacked it down hard enough to startle him.
"Jerk," he mumbled.
Jouster had poked Vantage awake.
"You kicked their asses with butterflies," Clockblocker said, as we made our way to the stairs.
The spiders, I kept on hand, directing them to the burned corpses. They could breed, in time, and I could put them somewhere where they wouldn't encounter any people.
No, she still released him from under the "spell". Well, at least he can be a little useful; but he's still a jerk who can't take orders from a "little girl" even if this "little girl" saved him.Breaking the rules, maybe, but it was something to occupy my thoughts. It made me feel just a little safer, a little more like myself.
Satyrical, Satyr for short, wore a helmet sculpted to look like a goat's head, the mouth in a perpetual smile. On a good day, I imagined his eyes were bright with mischief, his shaped eyebrows quirked behind the large eye-holes of the helmet. This wasn't a good day. There were circles under his eyes, and he glowered.
Btw, speaking about the heroes that "helped" Weaver fight Adepts, I need to add few words about each of them, before I'll start to know new heroes- Vegas heroes. My favorites are Tecton and Hoyden, I think Vantage and Rime are pretty ok and I totally dislike the asshole Jouster even if I don't know him very well. But, as far as I know him, he's nothing but a jerk that I'd HATE to have as my partnerWith the smile on his helmet, it made him look… I didn't want to say deranged, but it was the word that sprung to mind.
His bare chest was muscular, waxed hairless, the belt and leggings of his costume slung low enough that I could see the lines of his lower stomach that pointed to his… yeah. It was admittedly distracting. It was meant to be distracting.
Nix, Blowout, Leonid and Floret joined Satyrical in their anger. Heroes in more flamboyant and colorful costumes than normal, their moods a contrast in how dark they were. Spur and Ravine seemed more lost than angry, but the way they retreated into their group as we passed told me that they would side with their team over us.
We made our way out into the corridor with the cells. It was deeper, more developed than Brockton Bay's. There were two tiers, with one set of cells above the other.
Rime moved her phone next to a television screen, then tapped it. There was a pause as a row of black squares with white outlines gradually lit up. She leaned forward a little, her hand resting against the wall beside the television.
The screen came alive. I saw a man in a cape uniform within, without a mask. He had albinism, to the point that the velvet purple of his costume overwhelmed the little of his skin that was showing. The irises of his eyes were a dark pink.
"Pretender," Rime said. Her voice had a harder note than before. "What have you done?"
"A death sentence," he said. "You're an upper-echelon cape now, and you have the clearance. You know about her. The bogeyman that comes after anyone who tries to release information they want to keep secret."
This Pretender must be a guy who pissed off someone that SHOULD NOT BE PISSED OFF, meaning fucking Cauldron (because this boogeyman is nobody else but Contessa, they don't even have to mention her codename to see how much she's involved in all the shit that our heroes should put with
Pretender only chuckled. "No. No you couldn't. I'm dead anyways, one way or another. I surrender, it's the end of my career, and that's all I have. I talk, I die. This was the best option."
The hand that Rime was using to lean against the wall clenched into a fist. Her voice was tight as she asked, "Killing a government thinker was the best option?"
"Yes."
Rime straightened, but it was more of a defeated gesture than anything, her hand dropping from the wall. "You were one of the good ones, Pretender."
"Still am," he said. He crossed the length of his cell, sitting on the corner of the bed. "I'd explain, but it would only get us all killed."
"My riot sense was going off like crazy as he talked," Arbiter said. "There's something at work here."
"Describe it."
Arbiter touched her middle fingers and thumbs together, forming a circle, "Orange."
Rime explained. "She's a social thinker, in addition to her minor blaster and shaker powers. Her danger sense is mild at best, not something she can react to immediately, but it makes her aware of associated individuals and the threat theypose. She wouldn't be able to see much from Pretender alone, but she knows that there's a moderate to high danger posed by those closest to him-"
"Stranger protocols mean you don't go anywhere alone," Prefab said.
"Of course. I'm thinking… Vantage," she said, beckoning.
Vantage nodded, stepping forward.
Shit, Pretender killed a person. He's a murderer and they want to transport him to prison before the Boogeylady will get him. Now, I'm very curious about the reason why he killed the government Thinker. Maybe his victim was an Cauldron agent and he just wanted to protect his fellow heroes OR they were someone that Cauldron wanted dead and he had to do this special favor for them. But why they want to kill him if all he did was a special favor? He proved his loyalty, right? They don't kill loyal people unless...he probably arranged with them to attack the heroes on their way to Birdcage and "kidnap" him or have him "killed"
Inside, in boxes, there were butterflies. Innumerable varieties. Sadly, quite a few had died due to a lack of food or being crushed under the weight of the others. The idea was clear. The PRT wanted me to change how I operated. Dragon, at least, was willing to give me the means.
"Go, my pretties," I said, monotone. "Go, seek out my enemies and smother them."
"Sniper rifle," I said, in the same instant the thought came together.
"I don't think he has the right angle to shoot over the wall," I said.
"No costume," I said. "He brushed away the bugs before I could get anything substantial, but I think… glasses? And a dress shirt. I think he noticed what my bugs are doing. That's rare."
Ok, I'm more and more convinced that Pretender is a huge asshole and traitor who work for Cauldron and he wants to avoid getting Birdcaged, being more than ok to kill heroes if this means that he'll be free. No, you're not a good guy, Pretender, you're just another asshole pretending to be a hero. Even more of an asshole than Jouster. At least Jouster IS a hero"We've got trouble," Prefab said. I realized he was using his phone. "Sniper on a rooftop nearby. Possible Thinker. Barricades should make for safe elevator exit."
"I'm worried about that sniper," I said. "If he was coming after us, why is he giving up so easily? If he wasn't coming after us, who was he after? A civilian?"
"Maybe 'tenacious' is the word you want," Vantage offered. "There aren't a lot of people who get knocked out and still manage to win a fight."
"Are you all this pedantic?" I asked.
Vantage only laughed, though I saw Rime glancing at me, and she didn't look pleased.
"Alexandria was always hard on us," Arbiter said. Her voice had a strange tone to it, oddly melodic, "Getting us to focus on grades, extracurricular stuff, on top of what we did as a part of the team."
"We were challenged to be better than the other teams in everything, academics included," Vantage said. "But we were the only team with a leader who cared about it."
"All those sermons on being top-notch, on acting like the people we wanted to be, and… she turned out to be a monster," Arbiter said.
"Weaver did what had to be done," Rime said. "Not pretty, not kind, but sometimes you have to use a knife to cut out a cancer."
"Incoming fire. Taking evasive maneuvers."
"The sniper," I said.
"Fuck you, Pretender," Vantage muttered. "Fuck you. You had to hire the worst mercenaries possible, didn't you? You asshole."
I looked at the image. Not a face I knew, but one I recognized from TV, from the internet, and one very brief encounter.
Rime's power froze the Kulshedra in mid-descent, catching it between two buildings, suspended in the midst of a bridge of ice.
"How the hell do you know your way around this thing?" Vantage asked. I could see him below me, one hand outstretched, the other held behind his back.
"Defiant and Dragon have been ferrying me between the PRT and court, and between prison and these little field exercises, so I've gotten a sense of them," I said. "And I fought a bunch of others back in Brockton Bay. You figure them out, kind of."
"Hellooooo," a girl's voice sounded over the system. I had to turn around, checking all of the cameras, before I found the one where she was displayed, upside down.
It flipped the right way around. I could see a young girl on the opposite side. She was flanked by two other small children, one a male with a widow's peak and a severe expression for his age, ten or so, the other a girl of about twelve, in overalls that ended at the knee, a star at the chest, and far too much makeup.
Told you, guys and ladies, that all this shit was planned by Pretender
"Sniper's active," Rime's voice came through the earbuds. She was panting. "Deliberate, accurate shooter. I've taken three bullets, ice armor took most of the force out of the shots. Bambina is accompanied by Starlet and August Prince, um. Shooter's shots ricochet. Can't dodge. There's wounded just outside craft. Traffic caught underneath when you fell."
"No," Rime's voice came through my earbud. "No. Stay."
I grit my teeth. "You're underestimating me."
"We're well aware of what you're capable of. I'm doing you a favor," she said, and her voice was strained. "Stay, follow Prefab's orders."
"Paying pretty well," Bambina said, "And he promised a favor, too. He set some rules, but considering how we're going above and beyond the call of duty, I'm hoping he'll bend them. You know how fucking awesome it is to have a favor from a body snatcher? He zaps himself into some hunky celeb that'd never touch me otherwise, then…"
Bambina launched into a lewd explanation of what she'd have him do to her, and vice versa. I averted my eyes and did my best to turn off my ears. I'd started out spending months suppressing my powers to varying degrees, and I'd learned to ignore some sensations from my bugs. I wasn't so lucky when it came to my hearing.
"…with my feet," Bambina finished.
"Focus," Prefab said. "We know who these three are. We've got a Mover-shaker six, a blaster-shaker four, and a master-stranger three."
"You fucked up my rankings for a straight week, worst fucking time, too. I'd planned an escapade, was supposed to rise to number thirty, but your news took the front page instead, and I dropped to forty-five instead. I haven't been that low in a year!"
"Rankings?" I asked.
"Rankings! Don't you even pay attention? It was embarrassing. My mom's still giving me a hard time over it, and it's like, that's less money from our sponsors. So I'm going to make you deepthroat my fist, okay? Break your arms and legs and make you suckle it."
Tried to bite and sting with the nastier insects I'd hidden inside the butterfly swarm, and again, no response.
That would be his power then. Something in the same department as Imp's ability.
Holy Jesus, Bambina is an insufferable little bitchMy bugs continued past him, and I sent them straight for Bambina.
She only laughed as the butterflies landed on her, stomped hard to kill most of them. "No way. You offed Alexandria. I'm not- Ow!"
Bees, wasps and hornets stung simultaneously, targeting her eyes, mouth and earholes.
Tumbling through the air, she used her power in one singular burst, and was encased in a two-story high tower of ice.
Vantage leaped onto the top of the craft, then onto the top of the wall. Starlet's blast nearly moved him. Bambina leapt, bouncing off a nearby building, then flying towards Vantage. He teleported out of her way, then threw a bola, catching her. She fell from the wall, landing hard.
So many heroes around me, and they couldn't touch this little bastard.
In the midst of the Kulshedra, I could sense moving air currents. A woman emerged from thin air, from a place cooler than the interior of the ship. The civilians we'd rescued shrieked and backed away from her. She didn't respond, barely reacted. Someone with long, dark hair and a suit. She fixed her cuffs, then moved with purpose.
Arbiter heard, whipping around, and threw a forcefield between us. I pulled away.
She managed to sandwich the little bastard between her forcefield and the ground. I rolled away, sitting up.
The woman turned and walked up to the ruined nose of the craft, and began threading wires together. She didn't even flinch as sparks flared between them.
Heroes and heroines, I like to present you the Boogeylady of Parahuman world. Mrs Contessa, the only person capable to do EVERYTHING she wishes to do in the most flawless manners. She wants to kick some serious ass? All she have to do is to transform mundane objects into efficient weapons and kill people with a simple kitchen knife or frisbee plate. She wants to leave a crime scene as fast as possible? All she have to do is to fix an almost completely destroyed ship in a matter of seconds like she's the best techno Tinker in the world. Step back, Dragon, Simurgh, we have some new badass over here, who seem to compete with you two at the title of the Queen of Bullshit Techno-SuperscienceShe was measured, even patient, as she worked at fixing the panel. When she was done, she tapped something out on the broken, unlit touch panel.
Arbiter didn't look at them as she spoke, "You hired them. Bambina's crew. You wanted to break him out."
"Cauldron's evil," Arbiter said. "They experimented on people to get the powers Pretender has."
"It doesn't matter," Satyr said. His voice was rough. "Pretender's gone, and so are we. We'll get our teammates and we'll go."
Arbiter looked from her phone to Prefab. "Dragon collapsed just before this began. She was meeting a Las Vegas Rogue."
"Rime's alive," Arbiter said, looking at her phone.
"Every other count, then," I said.
The person I wanted to be, the person I was, reconciling them wasn't so easy. The hero on one side, Skitter on the other.
Rime was AMAZING in this Chapter
Someone on spacebattles wrote a few snippets of a somewhat comedic take on this concept here.
Yes, she's a child, but she's so incredible annoying, cruel and PERVERT (what kind of child talks like this about...footjob?)
On that topic Wildbow commented on this chapter in the comment section that he thought he had written in this chapter that her powers make her age slower, but must have lost that part when editing it.
So, she's a teenager (in terms of years) trapped in a child body? Or she'll be a child (physically and mentally) for many years?
He called out from the opposite end of the room, "Send her in!"
Power was a funny thing. I'd seen it expressed in a number of ways, with parahumans, but the unpowered weren't quite so flexible. There were people like Tagg, who relied on bluster and bullying, and people like Calle, with sheer confidence and a strict reliance on their own abilities in a particular field. Piggot had been something else, someone who had known how to leverage people and situations, more like Calle than anyone, but with the added advantage that she'd had the authority to call in airstrikes and requisition Dragon's A.I. driven craft. Like Tattletale had said, Piggot wasn't a genius, but she had her strengths.
Taylor vs Glenn. The Match of the Century. In the red corner: we have miss Taylor Hebert, 16 years old, ex villain, heroine in training. In the blue corner, we have mr Glenn Chambers, Protectorate director of public image, an apparently idealistic person who believe that heroes should go slow on villains because the general public might be upset if heroes are too dark in their actions and villains are hurt of killed accidentally (this is either what he personally believe or a game he plays with Taylor in order to test her willingness to play by rulesGlenn Chambers wore plaid pants with red and green, and a pink dress shirt, His belt bore a buckle with the PRT logo on it. His hair had changed too, parted neatly into what I assumed was 'geek chic', and the glasses had changed as well, with thick, round frames. An ID card hung around his neck. He didn't fit any of those particular archetypes.
I approached the desk, and the group parted to give me space. It was hard to put my finger on why, but I couldn't help but feel like they were doing it at Glenn's bequest and not mine.
The massive portfolio folders were open, showing poster images of various Protectorate members. The leaders of the new teams.
The images were stylized, with splashes in pale watercolor in the background, an almost sketchier appearance to the heroes. But the masks, necks and shoulders, the emblems and their characteristic tools were all done in hyper-realistic detail. Chevalier, Rime and Exalt, with backgrounds in gray, blue and yellow, respectively. There looked to be more behind them.
"They're good," I said.
"I'd buy one," I said. "If I wasn't already a cape, anyways. Things are a mess. I don't see how you'd convince a non-cape me otherwise."
For Skidmark, it had been depraved homeless, addicts and thugs. For Glenn, it was a cadre of college students hoping for a career in marketing, advertising or public relations within the PRT.
Glenn only smiled. "Isn't it just as discourteous to interrupt me in the middle of my work, when I'm already doing you a favor by meeting you?"
There's still something that surprise me about this formidable universe created by Wildbow. The fact that the vast majority of non-powered people (at least in US) are so acceptable and tolerant towards superpowered people. Except for Piggot (who was a bigot but even so she was willing to work with parahumans, wasn't afraid of them and treated some of them like they're almost her children instead of people working under her ordersFine. He wanted to play it that way?
"Last night, Pretender got broken out of Dragon's craft, our team crushed, and Rime shot. I almost died."
"Your insane restrictions on powers were a big part of that, Mr. Chambers. The bad guys won, and it's partially your fault."
"It's about a lot more than butterflies. It's the whole mindset. The attitude of the heroes. I'd talk to Chevalier, but he's too busy. I'd talk to Rime, but she's recovering from being shot three times. You're the only other person I've met so far who really seems to be in a position to know what I'm talking about. Besides, as far as I can figure, image and PR seem to be at the heart of the problem."
"All your capes could stand to stop holding back. Wards and Protectorate both. At least in situations like this. We lost Pretender, and we didn't exactly inspire confidence in the Vegas teams. That played a part in losing them."
Glenn frowned, glancing at his collection of underlings. "Everyone but Weaver, out. I hope each of you can find something to do."
"And I'm sure you did an excellent job," Glenn said. "But you're a dog in a duck pond here. You're out of place, you don't know the usual precautions, the customs and conventions. You gave evidence to that when you talked about the Vegas wards, something that should be kept more discreet."
Glenn sighed. He walked around his desk and plunked down in his chair. "You're going to be one of the challenging ones, aren't you?"
This is a test for her, exactly what I said earlier"Your strength isn't in question. We're not sure you're dependable."
"You didn't follow the orders," Glenn said. When I glanced at him, he locked his eyes onto mine. "You stung Bambina."
"The public's watching this too closely for us to let you off your leash so soon after Alexandria's death. When things quiet down, it might be a possibility. Our heroes in Vegas tend to be a little grayer than white, and an ex-villain would fit. But not now."
It was me, entering the PRT office in Brockton Bay. A video feed from a surveillance camera.
It was me, crawling through a window. That would be from the night I retaliated against Tagg. Odd, seeing how the bugs moved in coordination with me. When I turned my head in the video, the orientation of every bug in the swarm changed in the same moment.
All around me, PRT employees were howling in pain, their cries silenced by the lack of an audio feed. Either the camera hadn't picked it up, or Glenn had muted it. They thrashed. One reached for me, for the me on the screen, and I could see how I moved out of the way without even glancing at him. The swarm concealed me at the same time, briefly obscuring the Skitter in the video from both the man on the ground and the security camera. When it parted, she had shifted two or three feet to the left. A simple step to one side in the half-second she couldn't be seen, but it misled the eyes.
And I couldn't remember doing it. I'd never consciously added the trick to my repertoire.
Wow, Taylor, you're SCARY when the Passenger takes control over your actions/power and do things beyond your control. You have an excellent control over your power, yes, but your Passenger kind of like to steal the control from you at times, without you being even aware of this. SCARY. CREEPY. UNSETTLING. I like Scarab (my name for Taylor's Passenger) especially when it and she work in unison but NOT when it start controlling her body and mind when she's awake and not in immediate danger. Against her will. Creepy alien being creepy and acting only according to its best interests, despite having a strong connection to its host. Glenn is right. AGAINIt was like hearing my voice played back to me, but it was compounded over several levels. The movements, the movements of the swarm, it wasn't familiar to me.
"We collected the three members of Bambina's group. Not a complete loss."
"They'll get free and continue their rampage," I said.
"Most likely. We'll strive to hold on to Bambina at the very least. With luck we'll be able to recruit the little prince, maybe Starlet as well."
Chevalier approached. "You murdered two people. Three, going by your admission while in custody. Two PRT directors, one major hero. When Dragon and Defiant suggested we bring you on board, we were divided. It was Glenn who offered the compromise that we ultimately agreed to. Thiscompromise."
"You have blood on your hands. We need to know that you can hold back, that you won't simply snap as you did when you were in custody in Brockton Bay. We're still wanting to ensure that this isn't a long-term scheme on the Undersider's part, as unlikely as it might be."
"I'm sorry," Chevalier said. "Really. I was there for the fight against Echidna. I saw the Undersiders in action. I saw you in action, and I'm willing to credit you with the maneuver that turned the situation around in the final stages. As long as your rap sheet may be, I've heard of the good you did. It strikes me that you've likely saved one person from death and injury for each person you've assaulted, if I were to count what you did before Shatterbird hit your city."
No fucking way Bambina will accept to be a hero- maybe only if she'll be threatened with Birdcage for her crimes. Something like: fucking rot in Birdcage or become a hero. She's over the top crazy, but she won't choose the super-jail over freedom, even if that "freedom" will also be her personal jail (forced to work as a heroine? What a nightmare with open eyes for Bambina, the Human Projectile"Then there's one last thing," I said. "If I can't help directly, let me help indirectly. I can outfit your heroes. Most of them."
Taylor. Weaver. Skitter. Is it bad that you'll always be Skitter to me?
I could hit you, hug you, yell at you and hold onto you for hours all at the same time. It's fitting that I want to kiss you and throttle you at the same time because that's what you were to me for a long time. You drive me crazy and I can never understand what's going through your head.
You're an idiot. I want you to know that. You're an idiot, Skitter. You're brilliant and reckless and I'm betting it makes sense to you to do this but you're an idiot.
There was only a little circle with devil horns at the bottom, in place of a signature. I rolled my eyes and moved on.
Tt here.
You probably want to know the situation. We're all alive, Accord hasn't turned on us yet, things are getting more exciting but we'll manage. Heroes are leaving us alone, like you arranged. Trick will be to get Regent and Imp to stop prodding them for reactions when they cross ways.
Heartbreaker making initial forays, decided to pay a visit. Can't tell if he's invading or after Regent. Red Hands are a little more aggressive but not too bad. Meeting for negotiations tonight. Lost Garden approacheth, sending members after us and trying to clear way for Barrow to advance. Annoying but no problem until they enter city limits.
Regent&Imp constantly together. Mucho annoying since you gone. They're testing the waters, seeing what they can get away with. Will see how it turns out.
We got Flechette. She a pair with Parian. Lovey-dovey. Best case scenario, really. Not sure if you arranged that, good call if you did. Flechette's going by Foil now. Likes those F names.
P.S. To the asshats reading Taylor's mail, there's no codes in this message. Promise. Don't bother. You want to know what we're up to, call me. I'll fucking tell you.
Atlas died. I wanted to let you know. Tattletale had him, but he wouldn't eat or move. We asked for him, and we found a place for him. The guys say they think they know a good way to make a mold. They're covering him in brass.
A way of saying you're still with us. Take care of yourself.
-Char
(She hasn't said anything for a long while. She growled at me when I started to walk away tho. Oh here.)
I did what you said. Is quiet. Have tents and dogs and am hunting with dogs. Hunting fucked up bull things.
(Bison)
Very quiet with no people. Learning to cut them up. (The bison not people).
People are cutting down trees to clear space around portal, but easy to stay away from them. Simple way to live. Nice but miss toilets.
(We all miss toilets)
(Signing off – Rachel and Rachel's excellent minion/henchperson/letter writer)
OMG, so many fucking emotions pouring out of these lettersI thought of Atlas, and added a note – jetpack? With beetle wings? Flight system?
Taylor GETTING THERAPY. Jessica Yamada's therapy sessions with Taylor. OMG, OMG, this Chapter is already PERFECT"I'm so sorry I'm late. I never do this," Mrs. Yamada said. She entered the office, a raincoat, boots and a messenger bag in her arms, her hair a touch damp, clearly flustered. "What a way to start us off. I'm so embarrassed."
"You're in prison, and will be for at least two years, maybe longer. By all reports, you're chafing under the new restrictions you face as a member of the Wards. That's without touching on the fact that, two weeks ago, you murdered Alexandria and Director James Tagg out of fear for your safety and the safety of your friends and teammates. In this room, or wherever we go to talk, it's okay to answer 'how are you' with an admission that you're not okay."
I went on, "And there's the other stuff. You might not believe me, but I washelping people. Hurting people from time to time, but mostly helping. I was getting food out to people who were hungry, checking everyone had what they needed, laying long-term plans for the future, so that people who've never had a chance in their lives would finally get one. I'm helping people less now that I'm going out with the Wards."
"Okay," she said. "And you think society would be better off if everyone acted like you?"
Well, talking from a moral viewpoint, Jessica and Taylor have different options of dealing with criminals and wrongdoers. Jessica is the one who believe in redemption and probably think that anyone can be redeemable (including S9 members) and she thinks that brutally stopping criminals from committing more crimes is a "medieval" thing (its her opinion and I admire her pacifism and humanitarianism but I don't agree with it, especially about the redemption part"Sort of," I said. "Yes, I hurt people, but I hurt people who deserved it. When I had the resources to do it, I helped a lot of people."
"Kind of medieval, isn't it?"
It reminded me of my dad, that idea. "Guess it is. But capes are naturally violent."
"You're going to report back to the guys in charge of the PRT and the Protectorate and tell them whether or not I'm of sound mind, whether I can join the Wards team without snapping and murdering someone."
I nodded. "I feel… anxious, because I'm worried I'm not a very good hero."
"Doesn't it say something ugly about me, if I make a pretty excellent villain and a crappy hero?"
"And genuinely afraid," I said. I sighed. "I feel… afraid, because I'm starting to think that maybe my power isn't entirely under my control. There's a monster taking up real estate in my brain, deciding to use my power when I don't want to, and I'm pretty sure it's been getting more effective over time."
No, the monster is REAL and it tries to take total control over its host. At least, from time to time, when she isn't aware of her actions for reasons independent of her control. I'm surprised that Jessica doesn't know about Passengers or maybe she have no idea that they're basically parasites inside human brain and she imagines them as alien from sky sending superpowers to some chosen humans. But...and there's a but, if these baby aliens are brain parasites then why nobody saw them when they did medical tests on parahumans? No matter how small they're, I'm sure that these tests would have revealed them. Unless...and there's an unless, they're invisible and can't be observed not even with Tinkers' medical tech
"That's a very good question," I said. I leaned on my knees and stared at my hands. "Is it just me? Or is it my 'passenger', some inscrutable life form from a parallel universe that decided to give me powers, currently helping me manage those powers so my brain doesn't overheat? Or is there even a distinction? Did my trigger event fuse us to the point that the line is blurred beyond recognition?"
"If I tell you I'm dangerous, that I'm going to hurt someone, intentionally or by accident, are you obligated to report it?"
"I'm getting a new costume. Maybe a camera? The most recent time I noticed it was when I was with Glenn Chambers, he showed me a video, and I saw myself using tricks I'd never taught myself."
"Hell yeah. Am I allowed?"
"I'll need to make a few phone calls."
Middle schoolers swarmed around a very unhappy looking team of Wards, pushing, jostling, calling out, reaching to touch armor and costumes. The overcast sky was only just clearing up, causing the colors in the park to be all the more vivid.
There are only two persons who know about Passengers more than anyone else, and both of them are heavily compromised. Glaistig Uaine and Bonesaw. But Glaistig Uaine is no longer a human -she's a collection of Passengers who took over her body and mind and turned her into a literal monster (Glaistig Uaine, the human, isn't the one who know about Passengers and their shenanigans; Glaistig Uaine, the monster, the collection of Passengers using her human body, is the one who know about Passengers but she isn't interested to let others know about her fellow Passengers- all she wants to do is to recruit even more Passengers in order to become more powerful). Bonesaw is still human but she's also a monster- both literal and metaphorical- and she have no reason helping humanity finding more about Passengers (all she wants to do is help her fellow S9 bringing the Apocalypse). I think that Cauldron must know something about Passengers too, after they experimented vials on COMPLETELY INNOCENT PEOPLE for years, and there's also a possibility that they captured an alien -aka Roswell style- and they're using it to get more vials (because I have no other fucking idea how they can create powers if they don't take them directly from aliens)."People asked why more hadn't been done to reach out to you and individuals like you. This was the response."
Was this another point where I was underestimating what the effect of the swarm was, or were the kids just overreacting? It was only five or six hundred butterflies.
The girl in blue looked at Mrs. Yamada, "Ex-villain's corrupting the kids, and you're not stopping her?"
"I always hated the speeches when I was in school, the preaching in auditoriums, the one-note message. Stuff like saying drugs are ad. It'swrong. Drugs are fantastic."
"Um," Fox-mask said.
Mrs. Yamada was glaring at me, but she hadn't interrupted.
"-until they don't," I said. "People hear the message that drugs are bad, that they'll ruin your life if you do them once. And then ou find out that isn't exactly true because your friends did it and turned out okay, or you wind up trying something and you're fine. So you try them, try them again. It isn't a mind-shattering moment of horrible when you try that first drug. Or so I hear. It's subtle, it creeps up on you, and you never really get a good, convincing reason to stop before it ruins your life beyond comprehension. I never went down that road, but I knew a fair number of people who did. People who worked for me, when I was a supervillain."
"Too bad. You don't get to in real life," I said. "You think I wanted bug powers?"
"Ned gets the ability to fly." I'd left him for last. "And some sort of ranged attack. Kind of like Legend."
"But no power is really that simple. So… you fly by blowing. Like a balloon with the end untied, only with more control. You attack by blowing too."
All my worries just went away
"Your power came with the ability to understand air currents, which you need to fly," I said. "But they erased something else. Your sense of direction is gone, unless you're using it to fly. Wherever you go, you get lost. It's bad enough that you can't do anything on your own. Unless someone here asks you to join their team, your life is ruined."
"What?" He asked. He glowered. "Fuck you."
"Language," Fox-mask warned.
"So let's say there's an endbringer attack," I said. "Time to decide. Do you volunteer?"
Nobody moved.
"We need volunteers, or it's over," I said. "Hero or villain."
"Roll," I said. I handed over the dice, "One in four chance you die."
The ringing of phones interrupted me. Multiple phones, all at once, both the Wards and Mrs. Yamada.
A sick feeling welled in my gut. The Wards looked at their phones. Mrs. Yamada was the only one to raise hers to her ear. I closed my eyes.
Poor NedI felt like my chest was clenching around my heart. The kids had fallen silent.
"Defiant says he has your old costume, he can spray it white, if you want, swap out the lenses. It won't be pretty, but it'll be better than what they gave you."
"Behemoth. Seismic activity building in New Delhi. He hasn't appeared yet."
That thought hadn't even crossed my mind. We're not ready. None of us. We're still reeling from Echidna, from Alexandria.
I glanced back at the kids. The ones who hadn't cleared the way for the crafts to land in the park were still at the tables, along with one or two Wards who apparently weren't coming.
Oh, Behemoth. Good...good...told you that nothing can be more shitty that Heartbreaker's visit in Brockton Bay
Hello, my friends. Damn it, the last Chapter was pretty sad. We lost another Undersider animal member, after we lost Brutus and Judah. Atlas starved to death and nobody was able to help him because...Amelia didn't made him capable to act independent of Taylor and feed himself when she wasn't around to control him (damn you, Amelia, you messed up in more ways than just one or two. Well, I feel bad for blaming the poor girl for not helping a villain until the end, but I need somehow to express my frustrations over the fact that Atlas is no longer alive
...at least they'll turn him into a statue which is very nice and show how much Undersiders still love Taylor- each in his/her own way, despite her "betraying" them
. I love them so much. If someone would have told me when I was at the beginning of the story that I'll end up loving a band of villains, I'd have stared at them like they're crazy- because I usually like heroes, not villains- but right now, I can say without any doubt that I FREAKING LOVE THEM AND I'LL BE EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATED WHEN THEY'LL START DYING
. Yes, I'm sure they'll did at one point of the story because they can't have plot armor for eternity, right? Damn, I'll feel bad even for Alec, this is how much I'm in love with this group of (not so) villainous teenagers). I should stop thinking about their deaths because I'm still sad over Atlas's death and I don't want to cry again before starting this Chapter- who knows how much additional sadness this Chapter will bring in my life...
So, Taylor will have some kickass jetpack made by Defiant+Dragon, I suppose, right? It will never replace Atlas but I know that it will be damn useful especially since it will be made by two of the greatest Tinkers in the world. I can imagine the following scene between Taylor and Glenn (btw Glenn is now one of my favorite non-parahumans. I just love this man and I hope that nothing bad will ever happen to him. He's a good person, a truly good person who only want what is good for Taylor but Taylor still need time to understand his true intentions):
Taylor, entering Glenn's office: Mr Chambers, I'd like to talk with you about something...
Glenn: Ms Hebert, I told you already, your restrictions will be completely lifted when you'll be 18 and allowed to apply for Protectorate. After that, you'll be allowed to blind and castrate as many villains as you'd like. Nobody will stop you...
Taylor: I'm talking about a jetpack replacing Atlas. Can you...
Glenn: No problem, I've already talked with Defiant and he said that he'll made one for you. You know Defiant, he's very talented with his tech and...
Taylor: Can I choose the model?
Glenn: No, you're under restrictions, you can't choose anything for yourself. I'll choose the model for you. I think you'll adore my idea: it will have wings and the wings will be shaped into butterfly wings. Your jetpack will be built in a way that will emulate perfectly a giant butterfly wings. You know...for aesthetic purpose....
Taylor:.....
Glenn grins.
Taylor....shoves hundreds of spiders hidden inside her clothes in Glenn's mouth and nostrils.
Taylor's Passenger grins with its weird alien mouth.
Welp....RIP Glenn, it was nice knowing you Drone 23.4
Taylor GETTING THERAPY. Jessica Yamada's therapy sessions with Taylor. OMG, OMG, this Chapter is already PERFECT. Everything I love is here: Jessica, psychology, therapy sessions, Taylor trying (and failing) to understand herself, Jessica trying (and probably failing) to understand Taylor and...more Jessica. Too much PERFECTION to handle <3. I wonder is Jessica will have a chance with Taylor. Yes, she did pretty good with Sveta and Broken Victoria but Sveta is only a very nice girl who just can't control her tentacle body and Broken Victoria is more angry than usual (like she doesn't have enough reasons to be angry) but she's still (mostly) herself. While Taylor....Taylor is a different animal. She's so complex and complicated that a single therapy session will not be enough for Jessica to read and understand her. Maybe after a couple of sessions...damn, what I'm talking about? Not even Alexandria - the flying
bitchbrick who was capable to read people's expressions and learn everything about them- was successful when she tried to read Taylor's expressions before she signed her own death sentence. In the same manner you can't turn Bitch into a Lady or convince Number Man that in a civilized and proper society a man should wear pants and not walk around shamelessly exposing his underwear, you just can't read Taylor and completely understand her. This is how things work in this universe. When one of these things will stop working, the universe will start collapsing onto itself due to the sheer of weirdness.
Well, talking from a moral viewpoint, Jessica and Taylor have different options of dealing with criminals and wrongdoers. Jessica is the one who believe in redemption and probably think that anyone can be redeemable (including S9 members) and she thinks that brutally stopping criminals from committing more crimes is a "medieval" thing (its her opinion and I admire her pacifism and humanitarianism but I don't agree with it, especially about the redemption part) while Taylor believes that most of the criminals can't change and the only way to be stopped is through violent ways (an opinion that I definitely agree with so my- protect innocents by destroying their tormentors- mentality is more close to Taylors than Jessica
) but I can't help thinking that Jessica probably talked with Glenn before this session and he asked her to convince Taylor to act more like the temporary new Taylor he wants her to be than the good ol' Taylor. She wants to influence Taylor to think that maybe she was wrong in some of her violent actions and if she's redeemable then almost everyone can be redeemable too, no matter how crazy they're or how many shitload of crimes they did before. Glenn, you're very decided to test Taylor's patience, aren't you? Sneaky bastard
.
No, the monster is REAL and it tries to take total control over its host. At least, from time to time, when she isn't aware of her actions for reasons independent of her control. I'm surprised that Jessica doesn't know about Passengers or maybe she have no idea that they're basically parasites inside human brain and she imagines them as alien from sky sending superpowers to some chosen humans. But...and there's a but, if these baby aliens are brain parasites then why nobody saw them when they did medical tests on parahumans? No matter how small they're, I'm sure that these tests would have revealed them. Unless...and there's an unless, they're invisible and can't be observed not even with Tinkers' medical tech. Or they aren't exactly in people's brains, but they're anchored in other plan of reality from where they transmit signals to the brain of their host. I imagine them floating in their plan of existence choosing a host and sending something like electromagnetic pulses to their respective hosts' brains, giving them the desired powers and trying to control them. For feeding purposes? Turning humans into their puppets? Having their weird alien kind of fun seeing the humans fight to death with their powers? There must be a reason behind this ambitious plan of turning humans into demi-gods but maybe the reason is so strangely alien that I can't even think about right now, despite having so many logical (from a human POV) theories
.
Anyway, I kind of agree with Jessica here. The monster is both literal and metaphorical. Literal because of the damn alien fighting with its host for basically total control over her mind and body. Metaphorical because Taylor- the HUMAN- herself can be a monster when she thinks that is necessary. Even without Scarab's intervention, there are moments when she's capable of some really disturbing/petty crimes. When she's in full control of her mind/body, she can be very ruthless and merciless and creepy with people who doesn't deserve (Triumph, his father, Clockblocker, Vista). She's a monster inside another monster. But also a hero inside a monster inside another monster. She's one of the most terrifying and beautifully complex monsters and villains and heroes and I feel terrible bad for Jessica- she'll need more than one long session to understand at least 10% of Taylor Hebert.
There are only two persons who know about Passengers more than anyone else, and both of them are heavily compromised. Glaistig Uaine and Bonesaw. But Glaistig Uaine is no longer a human -she's a collection of Passengers who took over her body and mind and turned her into a literal monster (Glaistig Uaine, the human, isn't the one who know about Passengers and their shenanigans; Glaistig Uaine, the monster, the collection of Passengers using her human body, is the one who know about Passengers but she isn't interested to let others know about her fellow Passengers- all she wants to do is to recruit even more Passengers in order to become more powerful). Bonesaw is still human but she's also a monster- both literal and metaphorical- and she have no reason helping humanity finding more about Passengers (all she wants to do is help her fellow S9 bringing the Apocalypse). I think that Cauldron must know something about Passengers too, after they experimented vials on COMPLETELY INNOCENT PEOPLE for years, and there's also a possibility that they captured an alien -aka Roswell style- and they're using it to get more vials (because I have no other fucking idea how they can create powers if they don't take them directly from aliens).
Taylor is going to help children by teaching them to not become like her if they're bullied. Nice, very nice but I'm afraid that she'll snap if she'll remember all the bad stuff that happened to her and involuntary let Scarab controls her power and...do something that nobody wants to see her doing, especially to children. Please, oh God, this is one of the few moments when I DON'T WANT TO BE RIGHT ABOUT SOMETHING
.
All my worries just went away. Children are having fun trying to catch the Butterfly Princess' butterflies
. Taylor knows how to behave around children which is fantastic. I'm so proud of her (I remember how protective she was with the kids in her territory when she refused to allow them to use dangerous construction tools to rebuild the territory or when she saved Charlotte's orphans who were attacked by ex-ABB assholes). She's GOOD with children. She also is pretty great explaining them about powers and trigger events. Yep, they can't get the powers they want (no even Cauldron's clients got the powers they wanted exactly), and not all the powers are super-cool and useful but with enough training, patience and ingenuity, even the crappiest power can save lives (I remember reading an X-Men side story about the worst X-Man: a boy with the power of self-detonation, a power that he could have used only once because...no additional regeneration or immortality. His power was really crappy but he used it wisely, saving the world with his final sacrifice. He saved so many lives with such awful and apparently useless power...
). Everything depends of how a parahuman decides to use their powers: they can have tons of powers and don't give a shit about saving lives (Lung) or.... control bugs and save a shitload of people (Taylor)
.
Of course, there are some really useless powers that you can't do any shit with them no matter how much you'd like. For example, my ideal power is something like Bonesaws: bio- tinkering (the things I'll do with Bonesaw's power...) but I'm sure that I'll get something like...a Master Classification with the power to control...plants. But not telekinetically, like Parian can control her "toys", the plants will just sit in their place and will not listen to my commands because they're not sapient and they can't visibly move from their place. Maybe I'll control their growth but.... that's it. Instead of having an army of man eating plants telekinetically following me around and destroying my enemies, I'll have...plants growing faster than usual. Useful for (MAYBE) partially solving the world hunger but completely useless in combat. I'll be a shitty version of dr Bushroot (a villain from cartoon/comics Darkwing Duck....no, I'm not ashamed to admit that I watch cartoons with anthropomorphic ducks..."goes into a corner to cry tears of shame" Can't believe I made this confession....WHAT THE DUCK is happening to me?!?
)
The hero is called Reynard and have a fox-mask. Reynard is a famous fox trickster god in english and dutch mythology (he's also one of my favorite characters in the webcomic Gunnerkrigg Court <3). I wonder if this hero have possession or shapeshifting abilities. He's pretty sympathetic so far.
Poor Ned. An apparently crappy power+ no sense of direction unless he's flying like a balloon. Wow, you're pretty cruel with him, Taylor "hugs Ned and pats him on his head". This whole "let the dice to decide what power and how many successes as hero or villain we'll have" sounds interesting enough, I think I'll try with my own dices
. I'll make sure that I'll tell you, my dear readers and friends, about the results next time when I'll liveblog.
Big Troubles in little Brockton Bay? Why I'm not surprised not even a tiny bit? Let me guess...half of Brockton Bay's population suddenly felt in LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUVE with Heartbreaker and started to kill the other unaffected part of population. I can't see something worse than this shit.
Oh, Behemoth. Good...good...told you that nothing can be more shitty that Heartbreaker's visit in Brockton Bay. Not even Behemoth's visit in India.
Nice to see a cool fight between the DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT MANTON LAWS Behemoth and the american+ probably the local indian parahumans and finally we'll see Taylor fighting the second Endbringer (and the second most dangerous one after Simurgh). How many people will die? Depends of the power of the DICE if Wildbow did the same he did while writing Leviathan Arc: decide with dices who get to live and die. Anyway, my best bets: there are going to be more deaths than in Extermination. Because...you can barely avoid a tsunami if you can fly or you're fast enough but you can't avoid a lighting ripping you in half all of sudden. Behemoth can kill hundreds without even touching them, unlike Leviathan. There will be one HELL OF A BATTLE and I can barely wait to read.
ATLAS' MOURNING IN PICTURES
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Scarfgirl | DeviantArt
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scarfgirl_ (u/scarfgirl_) - Reddit
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Scarfgirl | DeviantArt
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pepecharlielepew (u/pepecharlielepew) - Reddit
Rest in peace, my big dumb bug.
Good night and sleep well, my friends.
Behemoth is the first endbringer.
Behemoth is the first endbringer.
And now begins the next level,Taylor only has one live,she can survive the battle?
The weaver dice chapter is one of my absolute favorite chapters to re-read in Worm.
They actually made a game off of this, that you can find and roleplay online.
The line where "Drugs are fantastic" made me chuckle every time I read it. Same with the powers they came up with, and the kid asking about how much money.
The Behemoth fight....is a turning point for this story. I'm curious what you will think of it going forward.
My restlessness was cranked up to eleven, cooped up in the craft with Defiant and Dragon, waiting to cross half the world. Dragon was focused on piloting the craft, unable to speak, in any event. Defiant was busy communicating, which translated to being inaudible as he kept the vents of his mask closed. From the images on the monitor, he was clearly tracking who was coming, our forces, the Endbringer and the high-risk areas.
The pack they'd given me, it was the wrong color to match with the armor. I'd be sacrificing the ability to keep things inside my utility compartment, but I suspected this would make up for that. There were built-in wings that folded at a juncture, like dragonfly wings with joints, and there were the 'arms'. The controls seemed to be worked into gloves I was supposed to wear beneath my costume.
"If your glove gets damaged, you've got the controls built into the pack itself. If the pack gets damaged, you have the gloves. If both are damaged, you're not likely to be in a state to fly. It might take getting used to, but this will give you the ability to move faster if you need it, and it's very possible you'll need it this afternoon."
"That gives you lift, the ability to offset gravity or momentum in a given direction, but the acceleration is low. Expect zero to thirty miles an hour over eight seconds. It won't carry you out of the way of trouble, understand? It won't stop you if you're moving at terminal velocity, unless you're falling a long way."
More technobabbles. As much as I'm not into technobabbling, I'd listen someone like Defiant for hours talking about his inventions"I hope so. You'll want to learn with both the glove and the insect control. There's also limitations on energy and fuel, for the antigravity and propulsion, but not so limited that you'll run out by the end of the day. You have time to review the documentation Dragon put together. Pay attention to the particulars of the flight pack's vulnerability to electromagnetic radiation. While the wings are deployed, one good hit will scramble it and render you flightless.
While the wings are withdrawn and the casing closed, it should be shielded against all reasonable EM sources."
"But you're doing this for me."
"Thank you," I said. "Really. Thank you."
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My bugs found the channels inside the suit, and I set about experimenting with it, working through the various steps for moving the wings and the individual limbs. Each 'track' inside the pack's interior was a narrow corridor with very sensitive switches along the interior, so that any movement of even something as diminutive as a ladybug was capable of pushing them.
There were four 'arms', each a little longer than my arms. The control was a little simplistic, with only two switches for each limb. I imagined it was similar to an artificial limb. I folded them close to my body, so they hugged my lower ribs and the space just beneath my 'breasts', and then left them be.
The wings were just as simplistic, but had three switches each. Two to move and reorient the wings, with a third to switch between the antigrav vent and varying amounts of propulsion. I didn't dare experiment with that in an enclosed space.
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"Stipulations of your membership in the Wards dictate that you aren't to extend contact to them."
Oh. Right. Shitty.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah, she's flying. Undersiders are here too, I missed my babies so much, especially my best girl, TattletaleI touched ground and extended the wings, activating the vents for the antigrav at the wing's tips. It made for a sudden, lurching adjustment, nearly flipping me over to the ground.
Not wanting to waste too much time, I made a beeline for the Undersiders, experimenting as I went. Rather than fly, I used short bursts of the antigrav with kicks of my feet to get some air, landing on the noses and limbs of various Dragon-crafts, so I didn't have to walk around.
"There she is," Tattletale said, "And she's flying."
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They were all present, Parian included. Accord, Citrine and the woman with the water powers were all present. I couldn't recall her name. Ligeia? She had a costume, now. Or an evening dress, rather, with a conch brooch and mask.
Flechette, now Foil, stood off to one side. She'd donned a black costume, which I was pretty sure was made of one of my failed attempts at a Tattletale costume, using asymmetrical belts, boots, armor and gloves to cover the areas where I'd tried to embellish. Her mask was an opaque pane, like Clockblocker's, but black, with silver trim at the edges.
"Hey now," Regent cut in. He stabbed a finger at me. "Aren't you supposed to read us our rights before questioning us?"
Imp snorted. Grue smacked Regent across the back of the head, a little harder than necessary.
"I don't know how to say this gracefully," I said. I paused, noting the presence of a hero nearby who'd raised a camera towards me. Whatever, I'd say it anyways. "But you guys mean a lot to me. I'm sorry I didn't say it before, but I couldn't without letting on that something was going on. You're my family, in a way. As lame as it might be, I love you guys."
"Gaaaaaaayyyyyyy," Imp drew out the word. Parian and Foil gave her an annoyed look.
"Skitter," she said. "Here, today, you're Skitter. Consider it a good luck charm. And no dying. I'll say it as many times as it takes, until it gets through to you."
"Way I see it," Imp said, "She's gone soft. Real quick, too, getting affectionate, lovey-dovey."
"Don't hold back now," Regent said. I could see that he was watching the guy who was still training his camera phone on me. Regent turned back to me and extended his arms, injecting fake emotion into his voice, "You know we love you too!"
Behemoth, nearly fifty feet tall, was still standing in the midst of a collapsed building. The structure had no doubt fallen on top of him as he emerged, and the debris was ablaze, casting his gray skin in hues of red and orange. He didn't seem to care about the building.
Dragon's A.I. were already attacking him, each from the greatest distance possible. The camera shook, out of sync with the timing of the strikes, as the vibrations took time to travel to the distant cameraman.
Defiant turned, reacting as if he were surprised I was present. "Yes. Don't ask me to pronounce their names."
"Sāhasī Pān̄ca," Dragon said.
I glanced at her in surprise. "You can talk, all of a sudden?"
There was a pause. "…Little."
The landing as he arrived flattened another set of buildings. The heroes started to run. They were too slow, when compared to the length of Behemoth's legs, the sheer power he was capable of putting into the simple act of walking.
One by one, they fell within his kill range. Two were scorched from the inside, a brawny-looking cape seized up with smoke billowing from his corpse as he struck ground, his arms and limbs still twitching in death.
One managed to escape, taking flight. He got a full four city blocks away before Behemoth reached out. He was struck out of the air by a visible arc of lightning that extended from a claw's tip.
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"India's capes fall into two categories," Defiant said, not taking his eyes off the screen. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the movement of the craft. "They term their capes 'hot' and 'cold', with very strict rules on who falls into a category. Walk between the two groups, you get the worst of both. Hot, it's about flash, color, appeal, and engaging the public. Villain or hero, they're cape celebrities. Cold, it's… bloodshed, violence, assassination and secrecy. Capes of the underworld. The public doesn't see or hear about the cold capes. The media does not speak of them."
"We need the ones with killer instinct," Defiant said. "The ones who fight for real, not for play. The cold capes."
"Thanda," Dragon supplied the translation.
Behemoth just arrived and a couple of indian HOT parahumans already died. RIP, unnamed Behemoth's first victims. I agree with Defiant about the COLD indian parahumans. They NEED parahumans with killer instinct who fight to protect the civilians, pansy-ass parahumans won't do jack shit to stop Behemoth from claiming countless of innocent lives. I think I already like the Thanda guys, they're COLD underworld assholes yet they're ready to give their lives in order to save people who can't save themselves. ADMIRABLE"The Yàngbǎn."
The focus was on a formation of capes. They were lined up like musketeers, rank and file, each a set distance apart from the others. The ones in front were kneeling, the ones behind standing. Each wore a mask that covered their faces, flowing costumes with loose sleeves and pants, somewhere between a martial arts uniform and a military uniform, each crimson with a black design of horizontal and vertical lines at edges of the sleeves and pants. There were nearly thirty of them.
All together, they directed lasers at him, aiming for his one red eye. He blocked the concentrated laser-fire with one claw, and the flesh at the base of the obsidian claw began peeling away.
"Who are they?"
"The C.U.I.'s military parahumans."
"Excepting diplomatic functions, this is the first time in over a decade that any of the Yàngbǎn have set foot outside of China," Defiant said. "We've tried to arrange for their aid in the past, but relations between our side and theirs are sour. For years, they've alleged that the PRT and the Protectorate are fundamentally corrupt, the source of the problems currently plaguing the world."
"They were right," I said.
Behemoth slammed his claws together. The Yàngbǎn responded by creating forcefields en-masse, one for every person, overlapping with those to either side of them. The shockwave of the clap ripped through them, shattering the first two rows of forcefields and virtuallyliquefying the unfortunate capes who no longer had protection.
The Yàngbǎn in the back rows were already dropping their forcefields, extending their hands forward, open palms aimed at their comrades.
Behemoth unleashed a rolling tide of flame, and the remaining twenty-eight Yàngbǎn fled, using a combination of enhanced speed and flight. The remains of the dead member were left behind.
Ten craft were around him now, concentrating fire. Cryogenic beams, containment foam and more served to slow him down. Notstopping him. No, that was too much to hope for. His pace was roughly two-thirds the speed it might otherwise be, at a glance, his attention focused on the A.I.
Behemoth brought both hands together, but it wasn't to clap. Instead, he directed a stream of lightning at the nearest craft, easily twenty feet across. It was splintered in an instant.
A second craft perished a second later.
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Behemoth is a POWERHOUSE. He already killed a Yangban member despite them fighting like some of the most badass parahumans in existence. RIP, comrade. No, but seriously, there aren't many differences between our China and their China except that their China have parahumans. China- being a banner for communism and creating hive minds since 1921.When I looked back at the screen, nearly half of the city was on fire. Black smoke choked the skies, a stark contrast to the cloudy sky of only minutes ago.
"Were they able to evacuate most?" Defiant asked.
"No," Dragon answered.
The back of the craft opened, and Defiant led the way as we made our exit. Spotlights cast much-needed light on the immediate surroundings. The ships had settled in a ring formation, some posed above the others, as if providing a protective enclosure. Weapons were directed outside, and one craft loomed overhead. For now, we were as safe as we could hope to be.
Chevalier, Rime and the rest of his new Protectorate were all in one group, backed by their respective teams.
"We've already notified you if we believe you have the capacity to engage Behemoth. Anyone else is operating as search, rescue, and support. Maintain a distance of at least a hundred feet from Behemoth at the very minimum. Get any closer, you probably won't have a chance of escaping if he decides to close the gap. Be mindful of line of sight, because he can and will tag you with a lightning bolt, and it's not something you can dodge. Assume every structure will fall down in a heartbeat, and know that there's no good place to hide and wait for this to be over. Keep moving and move smart."
"What about them? I can function better alongside the Undersiders."
"Dragon thinks you can contribute just as much or more with the Wards group, and they're the team that wants you."
And, giving evidence to the statement, he departed, entering the Pendragon and freeing me to decide without his influence.
"Cuff," said the girl in blue-black armor.
"Annex," the cowled one told me.
"Golem," the last one said, his voice muffled by his helmet.
If not from the trilogy, then… I fixed the pronunciation, compensating for how his muffled voice had modified it. Right. Golem, from the myth.
So nice of Defiant to allow Skitter to choose her preferred side: heroes or Undersiders."We're supplementing and supporting the Undersiders for the time being. You okay with that?"
- Yes, Theo's name. Theo is there, guys, with the heroesThis entry was posted in 23.05 and tagged Accord, Annex, Bastard, Behemoth, Bitch, Chevalier, Citrine, Cuff, Defiant, Dispatch, Dragon, Flechette, Grace, Grue, Imp, Ligeia, Parian, Regent, Revel, Rime, Tattletale, Taylor, Tecton, THEO, Wanton by wildbow.
Wow you picked up on Golem's identity fast. I didn't figure it out until after the Behemoth fight. Interesting the Taylor would end up cooperating with someone else who is native to Brockton Bay.
I always loved theo's subtle "fuck you" to his family's ideology.