Magical Girl Escalation Taylor (Worm/Nanoha)

[Silently Watches]

Set Up! 1.x

He was trapped.

The rocks hemmed him in. The dust choked him. His arm was pinned in place. The rubble shifted and threatened to collapse every time he moved. Even if he didn't move, the concrete groaned and closed in a little more. Only faint sounds drifted to him, and they were just more screams of pain.

Here, in the dark, he cried. He was going to die, killed by the goddamn gangs, and they wouldn't even realize it! What would happen to the dockworkers when he was gone? Who would find them jobs? Margaret and Kurt didn't have the contacts he did; would they be able to keep them afloat? Most of them didn't have the money to move to another city, and for the ones who had families, that was something else keeping them in place—

Oh God, Taylor. This was going to destroy her.

Hysterical laughter filled the cramped hollow. Would it?! Would it really?! He was already out of her life for the most part. What the fuck kind of father didn't know his daughter was being tormented in school until it put her in the hospital? What kind of father worried about the future of his subordinates before his own child's? Alan and Zoe were far better parents than he was; she'd probably flourish in their care where she had just withered in his own.

Son, boss, husband, father; it didn't matter what the role was. He was an unmitigated failure in all of them—!

He blinked blearily, picking his head up from the rock under it. Had he passed out? But that didn't make any sense. He was digging through the rubble, and he was watching the Merchants and Empire duke it out, and he was running to his truck to get the rifle he knew was still in there….

Something was very wrong about all this.

He shifted a large chunk of concrete out of the way to reveal a weedy, bespectacled man buried underneath. He stretched out his hand to himself, and he reached up to grab Alexander's hand.

"Boss," he said, "I think something weird's going on."

Danny threw off the covers and sat on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking. This was the second time in as many nights that he had dreamed about the attack on the office, and he doubted it was going to get better anytime soon. He would bear them, though; he was alive to have them, for one thing, and he had been given a second chance at being a father and fixing the city. If a few bad dreams was the price for that, it was one he would gladly pay.

Walking out of his bedroom, he swung by the kitchen and flipped on the coffee pot. He wasn't going back to sleep any time soon, and if he was going to be awake at three in the morning, he might as well be productive. But since it needed a few minutes to work….

He made his way up the stairs as stealthily as he could and gently pushed open the nearest door. Taylor, at least, was sound asleep, though she had kicked off her blankets in the process. All that covered her was a single sheet, and even that had been pushed down far enough to reveal more of his daughter than he had any desire to see.

How had he missed his gawky, awkward little girl blossoming into this beautiful young woman? She looked so much like Annette now that it physically hurt for him to look at her. She was growing up so fast.

And she knew it, too, if her flirting with Ralph was any indication. Her body language just oozed sensuality and devil-may-care attitude, neither of which was helped by her provocative choice of costume. She was her mother's child that way, too, he decided after thinking back to the outfits Annette had shown him from her time under Lustrum, and that was what worried him. The behavior he once appreciated in his twenty-seven-year-old girlfriend evoked entirely different feelings coming from his fifteen-year-old daughter.

But that was an issue for tomorrow. Creeping closer, he took the sheet and pulled it up over her shoulders, and then he rested his hand on her head. That explained a few things all on its own; her skin wasn't fever-hot, but it still felt like she had just come in from a long day of work under the summer sun. "Sweet dreams, kiddo," he murmured, and though he couldn't say with any certainty, he thought he saw her lips curl into the faintest smile.

Standing straight, he glanced over and picked up the deep blue jewel laying on her nightstand. "You're the reason she has these powers, aren't you?" he asked the necklace. "You protected her from Squealer?"

The jewel gave him a dim glow.

"Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." He replaced her necklace where it had been. "Just keep doing that. Keep our girl safe. Please."

The glow this time was brighter, more confident, and it was even accompanied by the whisper of a chime.

He closed the door behind him and went back down the stairs. A check on the still-brewing coffee, and then he pushed a flashing button on the answering machine. It was probably just a telemarketer, but maybe, just maybe….

"You have one new message. Playing message." A beep, and the electronic voice was replaced by a jovial man. "Danny-boy! It's been years since you called. I was convinced you had thrown away my number once Annette's little problem was cleared up. We have to get together some time. Maybe you and that little girl of yours can come down; I know some guys who would love to show a young lady around New York. They'd all behave like perfect gentlemen, I'd make sure of that.

"But you didn't call to chat! I don't know what you're planning on hunting up there, and I don't want to know. But if your little slice of Hell is about to lose some of its skinheads, I can talk to a few guys, see who's got some heavy lead for purchase. Might even be some of the rougher crowd who'd be willing to help out if it nets them a trophy or two, if you know what I mean. Just gotta know that the stuff you're talking about isn't cheap, and it's gonna be cash or nothing. I'll call in a few days if I find something."

"Message deleted. End of messages."


+1 training to Strong Shield (2/4 Adept).

 

[Silently Watches]

After-Action Report for Arc 1: Set Up!

Overall, you guys did extremely well! Let's look at it step by step.

Finding the jewel

• You became a mage! Seriously, there were no good or bad options when choosing your class, though I was hoping through that entire first vote that Calamity Witch would be chosen just because I personally wanted to run it.

Starting your career

• I've already mentioned this one, but because you chose to return home immediately after finding Perfect Storm, you didn't piss off the gangs or further alienate Danny, both of which together would have caused the Privateers to be far more vicious than they are and would have led to you killing Danny after the next Endbringer fight.
• Had you chosen to try out your powers right then, you would have gone to the Boat Graveyard and encountered Skidmark and Trainwreck. Depending on which choices you made after that, there was a chance that you could have fired a Rust Shooter through Trainwreck's chest, destroying his life-support system and killing him. You also would have been presented with a choice to kill Skidmark outright. Not the best way to start off your career as a hero, but not the worst.
• That distinction goes to immediately running off to fight crime. You would have found one of the Empire's dog-fighting rings, but unfortunately, Hookwolf was around at the time. From there, you could have run away, which would have left you injured and in need of healing. Glory Girl would have spotted your strategic withdrawal and carried you to Panacea. Or you could have – incredibly foolishly – decided to stand your ground. That would have killed you, period, full-stop. Of course, death isn't permanent for you in this quest, but you really, really don't want to find out what happens afterwards. Trust me on this one.
• Had you gone to the PRT that night, you would have run into Vista and Shadow Stalker out on patrol, and from there you would have followed along and found Skidmark and Trainwreck. Vista would have just liked you, but Shadow Stalker? You two would have gotten along like a house on fire. From there, there would have been the choice to join the Protectorate, and from there the Wards once they found out you're only 15.

Waiting for Danny to return

• You explored your powers safely in the simulation, which earned you bonuses for both Flare Shooter and Aerial Combat. And you got the first hint that something's a little off about Perfect Storm.
• Had you gone out to try your powers out in the real world, you would have been distracted by either a crime in progress or attracted heroic attention.
• Visiting the PRT would have introduced you to Assault, who is one of my favorite Brockton Bay heroes. No Armsmaster encounter for you!

Joining a team

• You chose the Privateers, which gives you greater latitude in how you deal with the villains. It also means that the PRT never corrects their assumption that you're 18.
• Had you chosen to join the Wards, you would have more powered allies than you do currently. On the other hand, this way you avoided having to explain to Brockton Bay's PR division and then Glenn Chambers himself that no, you're not changing the design of your Barrier Jacket no matter what the focus groups say about imagining you cackling madly over a boiling cauldron. You would have been grounded (possibly quite literally) for refusing to cooperate.
• You didn't go it alone. There were no benefits to choosing to stay totally independent rather than joining the Privateers or the Wards.

Running errands after school

• By checking up on the Privateers, you got a sneak peak at what Danny's costume looks like. You didn't stick around, though, so you missed the opportunity to fight alongside them from the beginning.
• You made a good impression on Miss Militia. That will only help you in the future.
• Had you gone out to fight crime on your own, you would have been fatigued when you fought Squealer. That probably would have caused you to be injured more than just some bruising, and the Privateers would have jumped in to help you rather than staying out of the line of fire.
• Since you didn't go to the library to look up New Hampshire's laws about GEDs and homeschooling, you didn't run into Lisa. That would have been interesting.

Fighting Squealer

• You made a new friend! Admittedly, you broke her, and Squealer isn't the kind of person your dad wants you hanging out with, anyway.
• Velocity learned not to judge a mage by her Barrier Jacket. Going with the Privateers on the raid also would have gone well since you would have called it in immediately after beating Squealer, so he would have known from the beginning that you were a hero.
• Because you were so far away from the scene of the Privateers fight when Squealer's train broke through the building hiding it, three men were severely injured and one killed who otherwise would have lived had you chosen just one action for 1.6 instead of two.
• You mastered Flare Shooter and Aerial Combat. Now you can pepper villains with fireballs on the move!
• With Strong Shield and Homing Bullet, you have all the basic powers of a Nanoha-an magical girl.
• You chose to wait to get a Guardian Beast, so you missed out on the most powerful options but will definitely get the one you want. Scratch that…

I'd like to thank all of you for playing this quest with me. Not just because it's nice to see people enjoying what I write (though I do like that!), but also because I am normally a much more deliberate writer. This is forcing me to think on my feet much more, and while it's pushing me out of my comfort zone a little, I believe that will be a good thing.

Since I made extensive changes to how the Guardian Beasts' powers work at the last minute and there were some misconceptions about how they were supposed to work the first time, I'm repeating that vote and giving you guys a chance to change your minds. Neither of these options is any better or worse than the other, but they have different pros and cons.

[ ] Random generation – I will roll dice for your Guardian Beast, and you will create it in chapter 2.2. You get no say in any of its parameters, but it will have exclusive abilities that make it substantially more powerful than a designed Guardian Beast can be.
[ ] Design – When you decide to create your Guardian Beast, I will hold a series of votes to determine species, age, personality, and class. It will never be as strong as a randomly generated Guardian Beast, but you will get exactly what you ask for.

This poll will close in 24 HOURS. Cast your votes quickly.

 

[Silently Watches]

First Impact 2.1

Thursday, February 3
"—British withdrew to Mobile on January 18, and news about the peace treaty arrived on February 13, officially ending the war," you mutter as you finish your notes for this chapter from Arcadia's history book. You vaguely remember Mr. Paulson teaching about the War of 1812 in the fall semester, but not in any real detail; whether that was because he was more focused on the Hitler Youth and the junior ABB who caused a scene basically every day or because you were paying more attention to the Trio than him, you don't know. Either way, it's clear that your decision to read all the chapters in the textbook rather than just the topics you hadn't covered in Winslow was the right one.

Perfect Storm buzzes. «Were the troops of English reprimanded for violating the peace treaty?»

"No, they weren't," you tell it with a shake of your head. "They didn't know that the war was over. It took weeks, even months for news to travel back and forth back then. It's hard to believe nowadays with the Internet or at least planes to carry packages over long distances." Flipping your notebook closed, you declare, "But that's enough schoolwork for today. What's going on in the disturbing world of PHO?"

The rectangular holographic screen displaying the pages of the textbook vanishes, and dozens more pop up in its place. The screens are too small to read clearly, but they all appear to show posts on Parahumans Online, the main site for cape news. «The phrase 'Calamity Witch' has appeared in fourteen threads over the last two days. Public opinion is currently positive. The phrases 'Taylor', 'Hebert', and 'Taylor Hebert' have not appeared within six degrees of separation of 'Calamity Witch'.»

That's good. That's very good. People connecting you to your cape identity is the last thing you want. Well, one of the last things, anyway. Thankfully, even if someone did make the connection, you have an artificial intelligence on your side who has already proven to be capable of hacking internet security. "So we're still secure. What else?"

Most of the windows vanish, and the rest sort themselves out into six stacks and one individual screen. «There have been multiple reports of Merchant activity following your capture of Squealer. Combat has been initiated against the Azn Bad Boys and the Empire Eighty-Eight; all conflicts have resulted in losses for the Merchants. Pockets of territory have been lost, but the primary borders are unchanged.

«Other than battles against the Merchants»—the stack farthest to the right is compressed into a single screen filled with text—«few conversations have centered around the ABB. These have uniformly discussed the ongoing raids by a relatively newer group named the Undersiders against their primary revenue sources.» You open your mouth to ask for elaboration, but it immediately continues, «Those revenue sources fall primarily under illicit substance production or distribution, prostitution, or gambling. The discussions concerning the Undersiders not otherwise mentioned speculate about future targets, and the general consensus is that the ABB is their primary target. Their disposition as a group is currently indeterminate, but the official statements by Parahuman Response Team spokespeople have classified them as a villain gang.»

Two more stacks combine into summary screens, and all three of these move to the side in a neat column.

«Messages about the Empire – correction: messages not concerning battles against the Merchants – have focused on a disconnect between the actions of Empire mages at large and a specific member named Purity.»

"Purity?" You know the name as one of the Empire's bigger members, a flying artillery cape rumored to be as strong as Legend in terms of firepower. This is the first you have heard about a split with the rest of the Empire, though. If she's alone, it might be easier to apprehend her.

«Correct.» The stack of Empire-related posts collapse into yet another summary. A different stack spreads out, the screens growing larger until the text on display is actually legible. «First observed in Brockton Bay in April of 2000 fighting alongside Kaiser and Krieg. She was their primary bombardment specialist until November of 2009. Three months later, she was identified while fighting alone against civilian members of the Merchants. In the following May, she began focusing her attention on the ABB. Since that time, she has not been observed assisting the Empire in any capacity.»

"Troubles in Nazi paradise, maybe?" you wonder out loud. "She's a heavy hitter, but she probably won't be as tough without the rest of them backing her up. Might be an easy target. If we take her out now, she can't give the Empire any help later, either. Next?"

Purity's screens merge and move to the side, as well. «The contract group Merces, led by a mage named Faultline, is listed as contracted in Las Vegas. They have not returned as of yet.« All that was left now was the single isolated screen. «I have endeavored to find additional information about the villain Coil. That search has been unsuccessful. I will continue efforts.»

"Thanks, Storm. Whatever you have on him is more than I've got." You reach out to touch the hologram, and to your surprise, you can actually hold it in your hand. It doesn't feel like anything, just a faint pressure against your fingertips, and it is as thin as an index card. Still, the simple fact that this blurs the line between object and image! Whoever built Perfect Storm was incredible.

The ensuing silence lasts only for a moment. «There is one other item, Mistress,» it says slowly, almost as if it is hesitant to say anything at all. «Two nights ago, father of Mistress received a communication detailing the possible purchase of devices of unknown nature. Analysis of local idiomatic expressions and euphemisms indicates these devices are potentially high-grade armaments.»

"High-grade…. He's trying to buy heavy weaponry? Why?" The answer hits you as soon as you voice the question, and you drop your head into your empty hand. "So the guys can out-gun the gangs. Damn it, Dad, what are you thinking?"

After a few seconds, you sigh and stand straight again. A flick of your wrist sends Coil's file into the column of summaries, and all seven files vanish without a trace. "I need to think before I do anything about that. Come on, Storm. We've got a Guardian Beast to make."

«Is it still desired that I optimize the Guardian Beast's abilities?»

Grabbing your jacket, you throw it around your shoulders. "You have a better idea what you're doing than I do. Maybe I'll be willing to play around with it later on, but for now? I leave it in your hands."

«Trust is much appreciated.»

You reach down and gently wrap your hand around the blue jewel hanging from your neck, the closest you can get to giving it a hug. "I owe you a lot already. Giving you my trust is the least I can do."

Walking to the door, you throw it open and step out into the afternoon sunlight.


Choose one additional activity to pursue this week
[ ] Light in the Darkness – Purity is one of the strongest Blasters in the country, and more than once you've heard her be referred to as "evil Legend". This is not someone you can afford to let go unchallenged, even if she hasn't been seen in Nazi company for a while.
[ ] Strange Bedfellows – Perfect Storm's news about your dad's phone call does not fill you with confidence. You really need to talk with him about just what he thinks he's doing.
[ ] Endangered Species – You asked for powers with which to eliminate the gangs. You even received the powers of someone who apparently had made it her life's work to do the same. It's long past time you got started on fulfilling that promise. Find a gang and wipe it off the map.
-[ ] Write-in
[ ] Eye of the Tiger – Spend your free time in the training simulator.

 

[Silently Watches]

First Impact 2.2

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, it is much more difficult to find a stray animal when you are actually looking for one than when you're just walking around. As soon as Perfect Storm told you that you could use any animal you wanted, you knew that it would be best for everyone if you picked up an animal that didn't already belong to somebody. A stray, assuming Perfect Storm was correct in how much intelligence it would gain, would be more appreciative of getting a nice home than one that was already a family's pet. You could get one from the pound, and you would if you couldn't find one on the streets, but that would leave a paper trail, and they already had opportunities to be adopted.

Of course, when you made that decision, you thought it would take ten minutes or so to stumble upon such a beast. That's turning out not to be the case, and now two hours have gone by and the sun has set. "Let's pack it up, Storm," you finally tell your Device. "We aren't going to—"
«Activating suggestion implantation protocols.»
Wheels squeal nearby, and you dart through the air to find a white car driving down a residential street. A metal trashcan is laying on its side at the edge of the road, and a small grey shape is in the middle of the street.
«Appropriate animal acquired.»
"That's convenient," you mutter while drifting closer. Is it a cat? A small dog?

No, it's neither, you realize when you touch down on the street. The raccoon hisses at you and tries to slink away, but that is impossible with its back legs, pelvis, and spine crushed and mangled from being run over. The animal may not have died immediately, but by its huffing pants, you figure it doesn't have much time left. You have a decision to make; let the creature expire and go on looking for something more appropriate for the witch theme you are running with, or give up the chance for a black cat and save it?

The reedy, pitiful whine makes your decision for you. Innocent animals don't deserve to suffer like this. "You don't need an animal to be domesticated before you turn it into a Guardian Beast, do you? A wild one works just fine?"

«Domestication irrelevant. Personality will be adjusted during ritual.»

"Good enough. Calm down, little guy," you tell the raccoon as you approach. "I'm going to help you. Don't bite me." It doesn't snap at you when you cradle it to your chest, but from the way it angles its head and twitches its jaws, that may be more because it no longer has the strength to do so than for any other reason. You take to the air and crouch on top of a nearby building, your staff obediently floating behind you. "The contract. You said there needed to be a contract for this to work."

«Repeat after me, Mistress.»

"A contract offered, a new life promised," you declare, echoing the Device's words. Beneath your feet, the increasingly familiar triangle appears, and then it spreads, a second triangle and multiple circles extending from behind it. "My will uplifts you; my mana sustains you. Your purpose: to defend me and my allies, to destroy my foes, to support me in my purpose." Perfect Storm gives you the final line, but you aren't listening. You want more than that, more than just an underling or even a teammate. Tentatively, you add, "And I want you to be my friend, to care about me in a way nobody else does. I will be the same for you, I promise. Agree to these terms, accept my contract, and—"
«Mother of Mistress previously terminated. Replacement required.»
With a final sigh, the raccoon drops its head and grows still. It does not breathe in again.
«Accessing Mistress's memories. Rebuilding personality matrix.»
"—become something more." You blink your eyes quickly to stave off the itch of tears, a wrenching feeling already building in your heart. Perfect Storm told you that there would be an empathic link, but you didn't expect it to form this quickly, and especially not when the procedure was a failure. A waste; not only for you, but also this creature you had promised to help. "I'm sorry."
«Surrogate design superior to original maternal unit. Uploading… Complete.»
Orange light so bright that you have to squeeze your eyes shut explodes into being, and the weight of the raccoon's body in your arms vanishes.

"Your terms are heard, and my own are given," you hear, the feminine voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. "You are more than my friend; you are my family, and I will care for you as if you were my own child. Your allies are mine. Your enemies, mine. Your heart and my own beat as one. From your mana and will, I come into being, and this new life I pledge to you!"

The light ends as suddenly as it began, and you are alone on the rooftop until a pair of milky arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. Turning around, you lay eyes on your Guardian Beast.

She's pretty, is the first thought that comes to mind. She has none of the gangly remnants of adolescence, instead appearing in her late twenties or so. Steel grey hair falls down to just above her shoulders; two additional lumps, tipped with black, sit on top of her head, and as you watch, they perk up and reveal themselves to be ears. Warm amber eyes watch you in amusement when you finally yank your gaze from her ears. Matte black eyeshadow harkens back to the mask she wore as a raccoon. Your eyes drop lower, and then you blush. Other than a black-and-grey striped stretch of fluff wrapped around her waist – which you rapidly decide does not count since it is, in fact, a tail – she is completely naked.

A second later, the discrepancy clicks into place, and you switch your gaze between the woman and the Device several times. "She's human?! You're human?!"

"Mostly," she replies with a mischievous smile.

If Perfect Storm had a neck, you would be throttling it. "You said this would give an animal powers! You never mentioned that it would turn her into a person!"

«My apologies, Mistress.»

"How did you even do this?!"

«Magic.»

"Magic isn't real!" you insist, ignoring the raccoon-woman's hastily covered snickering. "I know you think it is, but it's not! You're not a magic wand; you're a piece of technology some Tinker built using science!" Perfect Storm buzzes dismissively. "Flare Shooter! Think about that. That can't really be a spell. There's no eye of newt or Latin chanting! It's just a computer program!"

«The term 'magic' refers to the storage, manipulation, and projection of mana,» your Device retorts calmly. «Mana is an energy type that is fundamental to reality. It is stored in the Linker Core, an unusual structure of nerve tissue found in the spinal column of magic-capable creatures or sapients. Spells are programs that shape and project mana to produce specific results, including but not limited to flying, firing energy projectiles, or creating Guardian Beasts. It would not be inaccurate to compare magic to the computing devices present on this world, merely utilizing mana instead of electromagnetism.»

This is…. You shake your head. This is all getting too hard to swallow. The fact that its explanation makes a strange sort of sense doesn't help matters. "You don't know that any of that is true. You can't know—"

«This is the standard model of magic developed approximately 400 years ago according to documents located in restored memory sectors.»

"Except there can't be a 'standard model of magic' when no one knows how powers work," you insist. "Especially not one that old. Capes have only been around for thirty years!"

«Mages have been observed for thirty years only on this planet.»

That comment sends your butt crashing to the rooftop. "This planet? What do you mean, this planet?!"

«Memory sectors have been recovered,» it repeats. «I remember six walls. I remember being held in a metal box. I remember the box changing color and melting. I remember the box falling apart. I remember falling through darkness towards a world covered in blue and white and green. I remember the ground approaching, a city visible. I remember impact with another metal box.» You stare at it blankly, and it adds gently, «That is where Mistress was encountered.»

"W-W-What?" you croak. "A-Are you talking about reentry? Atmospheric reentry? Like the space shuttle used to do when it was coming back to Earth from space?"

«Correct.»

The assumptions you had made since finding the jewel flash through your mind. "So you weren't made by an African Tinker at all. You were made by alien space wizards, and you've been teaching me space magic." Perfect Storm chimes in agreement. "I… I need to sit down."

«Mistress is sitting down.»

"Oh. So I am."

One of the raccoon-woman's arms pulls you close. "I think that's enough revelations for one day. Can you show me the way home?"

«That is possible.»

You don't notice what she's doing until she has already picked you up. "You can't just carry me—" That's when you see the rooftops racing away below you. "Are you flying?"

"Yep." She gives you a playful wink. "I don't know how I know how to do this, but I do."

«Some abilities were transferred from Mistress during creation process. Mistress's talent for flight was one of them.»

"There you go, sweetie."

"Can neither of you remember my name?" you groan, deciding to focus on just that for right now. That, at least, makes sense. "Taylor. Just call me Taylor."

"Whatever Mistress desires!"

"Ugh. Just shut up."

The raccoon laughs the entire flight back to the house.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx​

You run out of the kitchen as soon as you hear the front door open. It's a good thing your dad told you he was probably going to be out till late working through the rumors the rest of the Privateers had collected; it gave you time to think of how best to broach the subject of your new 'pet'.

Unfortunately, you still don't have any good ideas.

"What's got you so wound up?" he asks once he gets a good look at your expression.

"Remember how I said if I got a pet, I could give it powers of its own?" He gives you a wary nod. "That's what has me wound up."

The clink of a glass being set down comes from the kitchen, and he huffs before starting to walk towards it. "And you left it alone in the kitchen?"

"Dad, stop! Perfect Storm didn't explain everything, so when I found a hurt raccoon, I did the ritual but because I didn't know how it was going to work I wasn't expecting what happened to happen and now everything's gotten a little—"

He staggers to a stop in the middle of the doorway. The grey-haired woman sitting at the table, now dressed at least somewhat more modestly in a thick bathrobe, raises one hand and wiggles her fingers. "Hello," she says in a sing-song.

"…complicated."

Your dad is still staring at her in shock, so you clear your throat before continuing, "We ordered her some clothes online, and they're supposed to arrive tomorrow or the day after at the very latest. I had to charge it to your credit card, but you can take that out of my cut of Monday's raid. Between now and then, she's willing to stay mostly in her raccoon form. We don't know what powers she has just yet, but we can test them out in the Boat Graveyard or something. She's supposed to have a bigger combat shape, too, and we're planning on giving that a try at the same time." And still he isn't saying anything. "Dad?"
«Father of Mistress's files corrupt? Replacement paternal unit required?»
He slowly turns his head to look at you and asks in a weak voice, "This… is a little complicated?"

"Uh, yeah." The two of you stare at each other for several long seconds. "Am I grounded?"

"…I'm seriously considering it."
«Replacement paternal unit not required currently. Saving design for future necessity.»

I told you that Taylor would eventually accept that she was using magic. The situation just needed to get sufficiently bizarre first. Danny's the one you should really feel sorry for.

Spoiler: Taylor's ritual circle. As before, I am not an artist.

Choose your Guardian Beast's name
[ ] Write-in
Dress for success
[ ] Professional – Pant suit and an adorable fedora. Slaying monsters is just a regular day at the office for this Guardian Beast.
[ ] Flowing – Loose robes and cloth pants. It isn't the most practical outfit, but it's definitely elegant.
[ ] Casual – Jeans and a tee shirt. Easy to grab replacements off the shelves, but not remarkable in any way.
[ ] Skimpy – Tiny shorts and a really tight shirt. This is something a mother should never wear, especially not in public, but she will not be denied.

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Strange Bedfellows – Perfect Storm's news about your dad's phone call does not fill you with confidence. You really need to talk with him about just what he thinks he's doing.


First Impact 2.3

Saturday, February 5
"Sam, hurry up!"

«Give me a minute!»

You shake your head and sigh. It is Saturday, the last of your homework for the week is done, and you're out of excuses to delay the brewing confrontation with your father any longer. He is a grown man. You shouldn't have to hold his hand and keep him from running headlong into traffic, but that is exactly what it feels like he's doing!

A quiet rata-tata-tata comes from the stairwell, and you hold out your arms to catch the raccoon that flies into your arms and then crawls up to your shoulder. Metaphorically flies, that is, not literally. While your Guardian Beast can fly, that ability is limited in her 'pet' form to incredibly long jumps. You asked Perfect Storm about it, but his response about 'inefficient mana transmission' and 'ratio of Linker Core density to body mass' had quickly left you in the intellectual dust. The short version is that if she wants to fly, she needs to be large enough that bystanders would immediately notice something distinctly off about her. "I'm not a taxi service, you know."

«You'd make me walk there?» she asks, telepathic voice filled with feigned horror. «All the way across the city?»

"You're perfectly capable of keeping up, and you know it." That doesn't earn you even a twitch, and you sigh and don your Barrier Jacket. You really do not mind her hanging on to you, though you are sure that she will earn you strange looks from bystanders.

The flight to the Privateers' new base is unremarkable, much like the building itself. A moment to check that no one is in a position to see you, then you drop into a nearby alleyway and type in the code to enter the back door of the squat, white office building. The stairwell just inside leads you up to the second floor, which the Dockworkers Association has claimed completely.

Several of the men give you nods of acknowledgement, including the younger man you briefly flirted with the first time you showed up at the old headquarters, but you are not in the mood to make small-talk. Though your dad's door is closed, you open it and step in.

He frowns at your sudden entrance but does not hang up the phone. "Yes, this evening would be ideal. Six o'clock at Warehouse 12 on Fletcher Street." A twist of his lips appears that could be either a smile or a grimace. "Then we shouldn't have any problems. So," he says to you when he sets down the handset, "what has you in a mood today? Good morning, Sam."

«Good morning to you, Danny,» your Guardian Beast replies with a faint purr.

Shutting and locking the door gives you an excuse to look away and compose your expression. Samantha is about the same size your mom was, so she was able to wear your mom's clothes around the house while you waited for her own to come in. That image had affected you, but it had affected your dad even more, and she had responded to that by gently teasing him. At least, you hope it was teasing and not flirting; you don't have too much of a problem with the thought of him remarrying and you getting a stepmother, but the idea of him and a raccoon is just…. No.

Without preamble, you admit, "Perfect Storm overheard your phone call, and we need to talk about it."

"What phone call?" he asks in honest confusion.

"But if your little slice of Hell is about to lose some of its skinheads," Perfect Storm plays back, "I can talk to a few guys, see who's got some heavy lead for purchase."

"Ah," he whispers, "that phone call."

"That phone call." Plucking your hat off your head and hanging it on the corner of a chair, you run your fingers through your hair. "Honestly, Dad, what were you thinking?"

He leans back in his chair, and when he answers, his voice is firm. "I was thinking that if we want to have any chance at actually cleaning out Brockton Bay, we need something better than baseball bats and crowbars in our hands."

"And you thought machine guns was the answer?" you ask incredulously. "What are you going to do when the gangs fight back just as hard?"

"What is the alternative? Keep from making too many waves, don't push them too hard, let them get away?" He scoffs. "Since you seem to have everything figured out, tell me. How well did giving the Empire and the Merchants the freedom to rove around protect us? Did it stop them tearing down the old office? Did it keep people from being buried alive in there? Did it?!"

"And what happens when a gang war breaks out?" Spokespeople for the PRT on PHO had mentioned the consequences of gang wars again and again every time someone posted a demand for the Protectorate to actually do something about the gangs. The statistics from previous villain wars were shocking and worrying. Hundreds, potentially thousands of casualties. Millions of dollars in destroyed homes. The years it could take for a city to recover. And that most of the time, the gangs were still there at the end of it all, a new equilibrium reached. "How many people do you think are going to die when the gangs get more violent?"

He slams his hand on his desk and shoots to his feet. "People are already dying! Every time the Protectorate lets another villain get away instead of pursuing him to the ends of the earth, that's someone still on the streets who has already proven that he does not give a fuck about hurting other people! Do you think Skidmark is going to wake up one day and decide that everything he's done is wrong? Do you think Kaiser will turn the Empire into a soup kitchen? Do you think Lung will consider turning his life around and helping people for a change? If they were going to do that, they would have already! They can't be bargained with. They can't be reasoned with. They don't feel any remorse for the things they've done or the people they've hurt. And they won't stop until somebody puts them down permanently."

You manage not to flinch. His words are ringing far too close to the very opinions you expressed to Miss Militia on Monday, if far more extreme than yours.

"The PRT doesn't press them hard enough," he continues, his voice softening, "but that's because letting the gangs go is safer for them. For everyone else who just wants to be left alone and get on with their lives, it's more dangerous because the threat never ends. I've heard the same excuses from them year after year after year. They try to spin their course of action as the safest one, but that only looks at right this minute. A hundred dead in the span of a week sounds worse than ten dead over the course of a month, but by the time a year goes by, you have more bodies at your feet than you would have if you had moved decisively to wipe the gangs out of existence. Because that's our only two options now that they've dug in so deep: a big wound that will eventually heal or death by a thousand cuts.

"I refuse to bleed out any longer, and so does everyone else here."

Silence descends in the room and hangs there for several seconds, but eventually he sighs and sits back down. "I'm tired, Taylor. I'm tired of living in a city where the villains have all but taken over. I'm tired of listening to the PRT say they're handling the problem even though it all just keeps getting worse. I'm tired of seeing people who have been beaten or raped or killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and yet we never see anyone get any justice. Half-measures haven't worked, and I'm tired of pretending that they ever will. So yes, we're going to arm ourselves. We're going to stand up against them once and for all. We're going to see this through."

"So that's it?" you demand. "Just murder them all, collateral damage be damned?"

He blinks at you in apparent confusion. "Murder them all? You think that's what I'm talking about?"

"What am I supposed to think when you're going on about 'they won't stop until somebody puts them down permanently' and 'half-measures haven't worked'?!"

"I'm talking about what we're going to do about Hookwolf and Oni Lee and Kaiser. Purity, too, if she leaves the independent life and runs back to the Empire to help once we focus on them. The kind of villains who can't be taken down with anything less than lethal force." He shakes his head. "The dealers and the low-level thugs? We can handle them with baseball bats like we've been doing. We didn't kill anybody on Monday or yesterday, and if we can avoid that for as long as possible, I'm perfectly happy with zip-tying them and leaving them for the cops. I just know that sooner or later, the gangs will step up their game, and we have to be ready to keep pace with them; if we don't, we'll be the ones getting killed. They pull out shotguns? We have some, too. The Empire throws in murderers and monsters? We'll respond with assault rifles. Whenever they escalate, we'll be right there with them, because pulling back and letting them go like the heroes have for the last ten years has done nothing but see more innocent people be beaten and murdered who should have been safe."

"And you expect to run into Hookwolf or Oni Lee anytime soon?" you press.

"Well, no. Right now, we're focusing on the Merchants. They're the lowest of the low, and also the safest to put down. Honestly, we don't need any big weapons at the moment," he admits, "but we intend to move against the Empire eventually, and I'd rather have two or three rifles and never fire them than see Hookwolf show up when all the guys have is a bunch of crowbars. If nothing else, there's always the chance that just seeing the guns will be enough incentive on its own for them to sit quietly and not fight back."

Okay, that's not as bad as you first thought. You were starting to worry that he had lost his mind. "Do you even know how to shoot a gun like that?"

"Carl was in the National Guard, and he said he'd be willing to teach a few guys how to fire them safely. I have given this some thought," he adds in a mutter.

"Maybe you should have saved some of that thinking for how you were going to explain it," is your dry response. "You remember how you said you wanted Alexander and Kurt and Tim and Margaret not to be under your influence so they could tell you if they thought what you were planning was stupid? This is me doing that same job.

"Just keep me in the loop, okay? I feel like I just got my dad back, and I don't want to lose you because you ran headlong into a crusade and got yourself killed."

He grimaces at that last jab. You don't want to hurt him by poking at that wound, but if the alternative is hearing about his death, a little pain now is worth it to get your point across. Deciding to change the subject now that everything has been at least mostly straightened out, you ask, "Who was that on the phone?"

"A potential seller." Well, there goes the hope about moving on to some lighter topic. "He's offering a lot, actually. Laser rifles, financial support, information. He wants to meet tonight to see if we can make a deal." Looking up and meeting your eye, he adds, "I want you there with me tonight. He didn't sound like he was setting us up, but I'd rather not get there and be surprised."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx​

It went without saying that you were going to go and keep him safe, and that is why you are now landing lightly on your feet in front of a row of long-empty warehouses. Samantha hops off your shoulder, blurring in midair to become a woman in a black suit. Tugging gently on the cuffs of her charcoal shirt, she turns to give you a look. She liked this outfit the instant she saw it, and she spared herself no dignity while begging you to buy it for her. "So? What do you think?"

"You'd look perfectly respectable if it weren't for the tail," you tell her honestly, pointing down at the long train of stripped fluff hanging down almost to her ankles. You didn't realize before now that she was good with a needle, but you know those slacks did not come tailored for somebody with a tail. At least the fedora mostly covers her inhuman ears.

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, sweetie."

A roll of your eyes, and then you walk towards the car that is pulling up a short distance away. Your Guardian Beast fills the space to your right and a step behind as naturally as if that has always been her spot. "You two ready for this?" your dad asks after he steps out of the back seat, already fully dressed in his own costume.

"As ready as we will be."

Setting the tricorne on his head, he enters the doors that someone has already slid open, you and Samantha moving to flank him. Though not truly dark, the interior is certainly dimmer than— You startle when the world turns bright blue, but then it brightens until you can see clearly to the far wall.

So your mask comes with built-in night vision. Huh.

What your newly improved sight shows you is a line of men in black clothing and balaclava standing against the wall; each one of them is carrying a silvery, futuristic rifle, and from the bulkiness of their shirts, you would put money on them wearing body armor of some kind.

The man waiting for you in the middle of the space could not be more different. He is skeletally thin, the black body stocking clinging to his skin and putting every rib on display. You are just thankful that he has chosen to wear a cup. The only bit of color on him comes from the white snake that winds its way up from his left ankle and around his body several times before perching on his forehead. In a deeper voice than you would have expected from a man of his build, he greets you, "The Privateers, I presume?"

You glance at your dad, hoping that he will take point.

"Some of us," he replies. "Enough to hear you out."

"I see." After a moment, the man nods. "Very well. I am Coil."

Coil. Now that is a name you recognize. What could a villain want from you?

"Captain, Calamity Witch, and Samantha."

Coil turns his head to look at your Guardian Beast. "No secret identity for you, my dear?"

"I can't exactly blend in," she replies blandly, swishing her tail back and forth behind her for his benefit.

"As you wish."

"On the phone, you talked about weapons," your dad says, pulling everyone back to the topic at hand. "Show me."

One of the men at the back walks up at a snap of Coil's fingers and gives the rifle to his boss. "One of Pyrotechnical's simpler designs. A single laser with multiple intensity settings. Light-weight, robust…." Jamming the butt into his shoulder, Coil points it at a stack of concrete blocks a moderate distance away. A bright purple beam lances out and shatters the topmost block, glowing fragments spraying out and falling to the ground ten feet away. He hands the rifle back to the soldier, who returns to his previous place; his position is so precise that you could almost believe that he never actually moved. "Easy to use. If you have ever wielded an assault rifle, you will have no difficulties with it. Or if not, it should not take long to become familiar."

Your dad nods, and somehow he looks almost bored at the entire proceeding. All those years of holding back his anger at the city council have given him an impressive poker face. "I understand that Tinker weapons require extensive maintenance."

"This model is built to make maintenance possible by anyone with a mechanic's background. The actual replacement parts are expensive and likely more complicated to produce, but the process itself is not."

"How much?"

"Eight thousand dollars each, the same as I paid for them originally."

You blink in surprise at how apathetically that number was recited. You know now, after looking at the books, that your group raided some Merchant drug dens and what looked like it might have been a distribution station just last night, so the Privateers have cash, but what Coil is asking for is still a lot of money. "Why?"

Coil turns to regard you at your slip. "Why what?"

After a moment's panic, you shrug. In for a penny, in for a pound, and Samantha can guard your dad if this all goes south. He's the only one of you three who doesn't have some kind of defensive forcefield. "Why are you selling us these rifles at all? I wouldn't think a villain would be willing to cooperate with a hero team."

You expect some move of aggression. You expect him to call the deal off. You don't expect him to chuckle as though you just told a joke. "The Protectorate does have quite the public relations machine, doesn't it?" You raise an eyebrow at the non sequitur. "All too often, 'villain' is used to refer to methods as well as motivations. Cause a scene, don't fit in, stop playing by their rules, and they consider you a villain. It doesn't matter that you want to see the true villains forced out of the city as much as they do. Why am I willing to help you?" He splays out the fingers of one hand over his chest. "Because we are the same: heroes who want to do good, not just look good in front a camera. I refused to knuckle under to their demands, and so they smear my name in the public arena and make false allegations to defend their… let us call it their bullying, for lack of a better word."

His diatribe strikes a chord with you. Miss Militia did not seem like she was the kind of person who would condone slander like that, but then again, neither was Mrs. Knott a representative example of Winslow's faculty. And just like the Trio isolated you, it is entirely possible that corruption in the upper levels of the PRT could cast a hero, or at most an antihero, as a villain. PHO did not have much about Coil's crimes; could it really be that what was there was just a lie repeated over and over again until everyone believed it?

"I want one for now," your dad says, pulling you from your introspection. "We need time to work with it and see for ourselves how simple and effective it is. Give me some way to contact you, and we'll get more if we like what we see."

"You're a deliberate man, aren't you, Captain? I admire that." A nod sends the man on the far end of the line moving over to a stack of crates. While he comes back with one, Coil continues, "Even should you decide that these are not for you, I would like to discuss a potential partnership between your group and my own. I do believe we could go far together."

"I'll consider it."

"That is all I ask."

Samantha steps up to take the crate from the soldier and then walks backwards to you, the crate balanced on one shoulder. Your dad pulls a fat wad of bills out of his pocket, a rubber band holding them together, and counts some out. Once he has enough, he secures the smaller roll with another band and lobs it to Coil in an underhanded toss. The antihero gives it only a cursory glance before returning his attention to you. "Someone will call you Monday with a number you may use to contact me."

The three of you quickly leave the building and stand outside the still-running car. "Any problems, boss?" the driver asks.

Your dad shakes his head. "No problems. Just nerve-racking." Turning to you, he asks, "Are you two coming back to base, or heading somewhere else?"

"I still need to practice with my war form," your Guardian Beast tells him. "Human is fine, probably because Calamity is human. My original form works, too. When I get big?" She shakes her head. "I feel like I have four left feet."

"It's getting better, though. You don't fall on your face nearly as much as you did at first." She rolls her eyes and lifts her nose in a show of dismissal. "We should be back in an hour or so. Don't wait up for us."

"Be careful."

You watch him drive away, and then your and your pet take to the skies.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx​

«Mistress, you have a message.»

"PHO, right?" you guess, dodging Sam as she barrels towards you in her war form. She just barely misses tagging you with her gigantic paw, and this time she does not stumble upon her landing. At its affirmative chime, you continue, "Read it out for me."

«Witch,

«I know some things you want to hear before you hop into bed with Coil. He's not who you think he is. If you want to know the truth about him, let's meet up and chat.

«Tattletale.»

"Tattletale," you mutter. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

«Tattletale is a member of the Undersiders. She is presumed to be their commanding officer.»

"The same group that was harassing the ABB." Perfect Storm waits patiently while you consider what that implies. "How would she know that we met with Coil? Was she there and we just didn't notice her?"

«All individuals present were fully visible.»

"So how does she know? And what should we do about it?"


Can I just say that writing Taylor as the person who's trying to de-escalate a situation felt really weird? It's becoming clear where her tenacity and ability to focus on her goals regardless of collateral damage comes from, though, that's for sure.

Choose two activities to pursue next week
[ ] Light in the Darkness – Purity is one of the strongest Blasters in the country, and more than once you've heard her be referred to as "evil Legend". This is not someone you can afford to let go unchallenged, even if she hasn't been seen in Nazi company for a while.
[ ] Big Game Hunting – Now that you have a Guardian Beast, it's time to take her for a spin. Go out on patrol and let her show off!
[ ] Strange Bedfellows, Part 2 – You have no idea what Tattletale means by 'the truth about Coil', but now you're curious. Send her a reply and arrange a meeting.
[ ] Endangered Species – You asked for powers with which to eliminate the gangs. You even received the powers of someone who apparently had made it her life's work to do the same. It's long past time you got started on fulfilling that promise. Find a gang and wipe it off the map.
-[ ] Write-in
[ ] Eye of the Tiger – Spend your free time in the training simulator. Can be chosen twice.
-[ ] Write-in which spell to practice

I got a little bit shirty with some of you for abusing stunts in the 2.1 vote, but if you wish to add subvotes for things to handle off-screen, such as arming Sam as has been discussed, you may do that. Just don't try to use those stunts to turn one of these choices into something else entirely. I was not amused by that, and I will like it even less if it happens again.

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Big Game Hunting – Now that you have a Guardian Beast, it's time to take her for a spin. Go out on patrol and let her show off!


First Impact 2.4

Tuesday, February 8
The afternoon air is warm as you and Samantha drift through the sky. You have practiced with her a little, the pair of you testing her limits as best you could, but she has admitted that there are skills in her repertoire that she doesn't feel comfortable using on you. Nothing directly lethal, she promised, just debilitating.

Clearly, if you want to watch her pull out all the stops, you need to find an acceptable target.

That is why you are floating above the shops of downtown Brockton Bay instead of studying. The Privateers have switched back to reconnaissance for the immediate future as they prepare to hit another drug den, so working with them is out, and you really do not feel like taking on one of the gangs on their home turf with just your Guardian Beast as backup today. You figure if you go on a patrol, you might find some gang members ripe for a spanking by the maternal raccoon, and even if nothing turns up there, you might have a chance to introduce yourself to some of Brockton Bay's other heroes.

A glint in the distance catches your eye, and you look over to see a boy in red and gold armor floating along on a skateboard. There is only one person in the city who dresses in armor like that: Kid Win, the Tinker among the Wards. That would make the green-and-white-suited figure who looks like she is teleporting from rooftop to rooftop Vista; from their relaxed poses, you figure they are out on patrol just as you are.

«Weren't you going to say hello?»

"Yes, Mom," you bite out, not nearly as upset as your voice makes you out to be. Gliding over, you give them a brief wave when they turn to watch you. Crap, what do you say?! "Hello." Well, that's a start.

"You're that new cape, right? Calamity Witch," Vista chirps. Kid Win snickers just a little, and she gives him a heated glare before clearing her throat. "I mean, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Vista, and he's— Do you have a raccoon on your shoulder?!"

Samantha giggles at the girl's obvious delight and waves one tiny paw at her. «Hi, Vista. I'm Samantha.»

"OH MY GOD SHE TALKS!"

At this point, the young heroine's partner can no longer stifle his laughter. "Sorry about her. Ever since somebody posted that video of you fighting Squealer on PHO, she's been fangirling— Hey!" he shouts when his head suddenly jerks forward.

Vista lowers her hand slowly, her expression actually a little bit menacing. When she turns her attention back to you, however, it is all wide eyes and smiles. "Can I hold her? Um, hold you? I mean…. Never mind."

«Of course.» A leap carries Samantha from your shoulder into Vista's waiting arms, and the heroine – how old is she really? From her behavior and size, you're thinking eleven or twelve – wastes no time in cuddling the fuzzy creature. She immediately squeals in girlish delight when your Guardian Beast begins to purr contentedly.

You roll your eyes. "Ham it up, why don't you?"

Kid Win coughs into his hand, though whether to buy time to say whatever it is he wants to say or keep from laughing again is anybody's guess. "Since it looks like my partner isn't going to let go of your partner anytime soon, would you like to patrol with us for a while? We planned to be out here for another half-hour, make sure nothing's going on around the edges of Empire territory."

"I don't know," you say with a glance over at your oh-so-ferocious protector, who currently is perched on top of Vista's head. "We might need to go before somebody kidnaps my Guardian Beast. But maybe for a little while."

Patrolling with the Wards, you soon discover, is far from the chore you first presumed it would be. Before now, you had always projected the backbiting and nastiness you associated with Emma and her cronies onto the high school–aged heroes; so sure were you that it would just be more of the same that joining their ranks never seriously crossed your mind. You have never been happier to be proven wrong. Kid Win has some of the same geekiness and social awkwardness that you have always suffered from, and though his leans more towards history than the mathematics you would have expected from a Tinker or the computer programming that was your favorite subject, you can still identify him as a kindred spirit. Vista, on the other hand, soon shocks you with just how much she knows about the ins and outs of heroing work; not just patrolling and how best to take down a running criminal, but also working with cops who aren't huge fans of parahumans and navigating the hellish waters of public relations.

You don't know who this Chambers guy is, but you make a mental note to run away quick if you ever encounter him.

Raised voices catch your attention, and the four of you fly, jump, and ride toward the disturbance. A group of men, all bulked up like they are on steroids and all with shaved heads, walk out of the building; one of them jerks a black duffel bag onto his shoulder and laughs at another's joke.

"Hey!" Kid Win calls out. The seven men look up in surprise, and their eyes widen when they see three heroes watching their every move. "We wanna have a quick chat."

The skinheads turn on their heels and start sprinting down the street.

"And they're running," Vista mutters with a shake of her head. "Why do they always run? Haven't they ever watched cop shows? Everyone knows if somebody's running away, they're guilty of something, and they always get caught like twenty seconds later."

«Maybe we should give them a head start?» Samantha suggested. «Let them think they'll get away this time?"»

"No, no. We tried doing that once. Armsmaster yelled at us for ten minutes, and then Piggy did it for another fifteen before putting us all on shit duties for a week. Though that might have been because Clockblocker held up a sign that read seven out of ten."

«She didn't appreciate being mocked?»

"It was either that or the fact that Armsmaster got an eight."

"Okay, that's long enough." You swing your staff in a lazy arc in front of you, seven Flare Shooters forming one after another. A swift backhand sends them flying, and the magic bullets weave in and out of each other's path in an elaborate dance before they reach their targets and detonate. The thugs are flung forwards by the blasts and tumble and roll around on the ground before finally coming to a halt.

Showing off? You? Never.

The four of you casually make your way over to where the men are laid out, faint scorch marks marring the backs of their tee shirts. Apparently, you can't take all the fire out of your Flare Shooters. One of them has a phone out and is whispering harshly into it until Vista reaches out into the air and still somehow plucks the phone out of his hands. "Sorry, he'll have to call you later!" she says cheerfully before tapping the screen. "Who wants to be the first to explain what you've been up to?"

"We ain't telling you nothing!" the man who had the phone spits out.

Kid Win shakes his head in disappointment. "If that's how you want to play this, that's fine. We'll let the BBPD convince you to talk to them. Vista, you still have Sergeant Berkowitz's direct line? You know how much he loves arresting Nazis."

«Hmm?» You look over to see that Samantha has cocked her head, her ears perked up. «Does anyone else hear that?»

"Hear what?" Vista asks.

«…Rocks cracking.» She glances over your shoulder, and her eyes widen in fright. «Behind you!»

You wheel around in midair and barely see the dark mass hurtling at you before you raise your left hand and scream, "Strong Shield!" The triangular design spreads out from just in front of your palm only just in time to stop the metal dumpster that had been thrown at you. The next second, a crack appears in the lines of script, and then another.

Darting away, you watch as the force behind the projectile finishes overwhelming your shield and punches through.

"Rune. Great," Kid Win mutters.

Poking your head around the corner proves his assumption to be the right one. A blonde teenager dressed in a dark blue robe is standing on top of a chunk of concrete the size of a school bus, two more slowly orbiting her. «Sam», you think at your Guardian Beast, «you see what I see?»

«I do.» Vista's gasp of astonishment almost drowns out the faint buzz of Samantha's transformation. "Keep her busy for a couple of seconds while I get the coordinates."

"Keep her busy. Right." Steeling yourself for what you know is a dumb idea, you drift out from behind the building and into her line of sight. "Hey, Nazi wizard! I think you left your beard somewhere!"

Flying and shooting? That you can do. Pre-fight banter? Not so much.

You can hear her scoff from all the way over here. "Like you have the right to make witch jokes." One of the boulders – what did she do, rip it right out of the street? – stops circling her and spins to point its sharp end at you. "Go home and play with your dolls, and maybe I won't squash your crazy ass—"

Orange light shimmers behind her, and Rune spins around just in time to catch the full force of Samantha's spinning kick with her face. The villain flies through the air again, this time completely unassisted, and slams into the windows of the ten-story building a short distance away. «You weren't kidding about that couple of seconds, were you?», you project to her.

«Not at all.»

Your celebration is cut short when that same building shatters, the plexiglass windows peeling themselves off in a single piece to swat Samantha away like an annoying fly. "You wanna play like that, witch bitch?!" the villainess shouts, standing on another stretch of window before jumping onto the same rock she had been riding before. "Then let's play!" You really should have paid more attention to the fact that it didn't drop to the street below.

A faint flicker is all the warning Rune has before bolts of bright red energy appear out of nowhere right above her, followed by Kid Win himself as he flies out of the spatial distortion Vista created. At such close range, the Empire cape is at a severe disadvantage; sparks sizzle around his knuckles, built-in tasers perfect for fist-fights like this one, and his armor is strong enough to withstand her own ineffectual strikes. Of course, he's too close for you to risk peppering her with Flare Shooters, but as long as she's stuck dodging—

Rune jumps off her platform, and your attention is torn between the villain as she lands on the sheet of plexiglass and the second enormous chunk of rock that is dropping directly on top of Kid Win.

A streak of grey smashes into him from behind, rocketing the teenaged hero out of the crush zone. «Vista, catch!» Samantha shouts, cutting off her insane speed boost enough to toss Kid Win into the air, from which he immediately disappears. The next burst of telepathy is not even words, just a flicker of a couple of pictures, but it's enough that you think you know what she's planning. You stretch out your hand and catch hers, the sheer force of the catch spinning you around, and you add your own speed to the impromptu slingshot maneuver. The hand clutching your wrist shifts, her own wrist growing thicker and furrier, and then you let go. Her Gliding Paw spell activates again, speeding her up again before you can see the end of the transformation, and you flick the dozen Flare Shooters you created during your spin at Rune. They won't hit before Samantha does, but she is just as immune to fire as you are.

Rune doesn't have that same protection.

Samantha slams into the Nazi like a three-hundred-pound muscle-bound bullet – which is pretty much what her war form is – and silvery blurs are all you can make out of her accelerated swipes. That is the main spell she was so worried about hitting you with; her claws on their own are not capable of inflicting much in the way of injury, but a cumulative weakening of villains' armor or, if they are not wearing any, their innate durability? Your Guardian Beast is confident she can handle just about any Brute you throw at her.

The grappling pair hit the ground hard, and your magic bullets impact them a short moment later. The rocks that have so far been hovering in the air shudder and drop, but Samantha is already out of the way, the battered, clawed, and scorched villain held unconscious in her forepaws while she waddles towards you. Looking more like a squash-faced badger that has been scaled up to the size of a bear than any raccoon you've ever seen, Samantha on her hind legs stands nearly as tall as you do. She dumps Rune on the ground and opens her mouth in an animalistic smile, showing off three-inch fangs and what are – especially when staring into her mouth when she's on top of you, as has happened before during your sparring sessions – far too many sharp teeth behind them. «Anyone going to take care of the thugs?»

You turn around and sigh when you see the unpowered skinheads stumbling away as fast as they can. Another set of Flare Shooters flicker out of existence and reappear right behind them to smash into their heads, and they all collapse like abandoned puppets. "Thanks for the boost, Vista."

"You're, uh, you're welcome," she mutters while still staring at Samantha's war form. "If I said anything that offended you, I'm really, really sorry."

Samantha trots over to the shorter heroine and stands up again so she can pat the girl on the head. «Don't worry. You're a sweet kid.»

Clearing his throat, Kid Win steps up and holds out the raccoon's fedora. "You dropped this during your whole 'spin around and tackle Rune' thing."

«Thank you, dear.» She shrinks back to her human form and takes it from him so she can set it once more on top of her ears. "I would hate to lose this. It really ties my whole style together."

Only now that everything is over do you hear the whining sirens, and the Tinker shakes his head. "That'll be the cops. The PRT should be here in a few minutes to pick up Rune. You can stay for that and give your statements to them then, but if you want to take off, we won't blame you. Just don't be surprised if Armsmaster or Miss Militia chase you down so you can fill out the paperwork."

Considering Samantha has shifted back to her original shape and has returned to Vista's shoulder, you know what her vote is. "We can stick around for a little bit. Now, what were you saying about the time you and Gallant switched armors? Something about him activating the hoverboard at the wrong time…."


Originally, this chapter was going to include Fenja so Samantha could show off her weapon skills and so Shredding Claw could get more than a brief mention, but ninety minutes of staring at a blank screen changed my mind on that point.

Choose a spell to learn
[ ] Telekinesis – Move nearby objects with your mind.
[ ] Recursion Field – Create a dimensional barrier around yourself and nearby mages. Not all parahumans are similarly affected.
[ ] Wide Area Search – Send out non-damaging homing 'bullets' that map out the surroundings or search for a specified target.

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Strange Bedfellows, Part 2 – You have no idea what Tattletale means by 'the truth about Coil', but now you're curious. Send her a reply and arrange a meeting.


First Impact 2.5

Thursday, February 10
The time and place Tattletale where eventually suggested for you to meet her is an empty rooftop on the fringes of ABB territory at four in the afternoon. There is nothing remarkable about it; you know that from the inspection you and Samantha quickly carry out, which is the entire reason the pair of you showed up an hour early. Once you determine that the area is secure, or at least not booby-trapped, you settle yourself on top of an air conditioning unit to wait for the villain. Samantha, meanwhile, lurks out of sight in her war form, just in case this conversation devolves into a fight.

It is still five minutes until the top of the hour when a blonde teenager in a skintight costume of black and lavender climbs up the fire escape ladder. "You're early. Good."

"You said you had information about Coil," you say, twirling your staff in your hand. It is a nervous habit you've developed since finding Perfect Storm, and strangely, it does make you feel more centered. "I don't know how you knew about our meeting in the first place, and I don't know whether I can trust the information you claim to have."

She smirks. "I knew about the meeting because I was watching the whole time. A little camera in the corner, and a speaker in Coil's ear so I could tell him what I found out from you."

«Did you notice anything like that?,» you project to your Device.

«I did not monitor electromagnetic signals at that time. Sincerest apologies, Mistress.»

"How else do you think he knew why Captain is displeased with the Protectorate, or that you were bullied all through high school? It's why you dropped out in the first place… just last week? Now that's interesting," she adds, her grin widening. "Which makes Captain your father or uncle; no, your father. That enough to prove I know what I'm talking about?"

"How do you even know any of that?" you demand.

Spreading her arms wide, she boasts, "I'm psychic, obviously."

«False. No telepathic signals are detected.»

"Let's say I believe you. What do you know that's so earth-shattering about Coil?"

"He's really a villain. Oh, the whole 'persecuted antihero' routine was well done on his part, I'll give him that, but it's a lie. He wants to set himself up as the kingpin of the city, and to do that, he needs the established gangs taken out. It's why he hired the Undersiders – my team – and it's why he's ingratiating himself to the Privateers. You guys are doing such a good job cleaning out the Merchants that he thinks you'll be ready for the big leagues soon." Tattletale shrugs, the motion faintly theatrical. "You think you're heroes now, but then it'll be one little favor for your business partner. Then another, and another, and soon you'll all be his minions and you won't even know how you got there." Tilting her head, she adds, "Or you'll die against the gangs. Then you're a potential obstacle that has so politely removed itself from his path."

"That doesn't make any sense," you protest. "If he's really this ambitious criminal mastermind, why would he want a group of heroes anywhere near him?"

"So he'll be the first one you turn to when the other gangs discover you aren't playing the game and decide you need to be dealt with."

Shooting her a suspicious glance, you demand, "What 'game' are you talking about?"

"You ever play cops and robbers when you were a kid?" she asks. "Ninety percent of the cape world, that's exactly what it is. A giant, full-contact game of cops and robbers with fun powers and toys. Everyone gets to run around in costumes and live out this second life."

"Yes, because it's so much fun when people's homes and livelihoods are destroyed, or when they're beaten by Nazis or even Leet and Uber acting out Grand Theft Auto again. You'll have to forgive me if I think you're full of crap."

"Oh, I know you can't see it," she replies airily, her smirk growing once more. "That's because you're in that other ten percent. The crazies, the violent extremists. Oni Lee, Lung, Heartbreaker, Coil… and Calamity Witch. You want to know what I found out watching you and Captain?" she asks before you can say anything in your defense. "You're going to kill somebody eventually. You'll take this way more seriously than you should, and eventually somebody's going to push you just that little bit too far. You're already well on your way. The Merchants are shit, and no one's going to miss them, but you're not going to stop with them. You'll go after the ABB, and the Empire's going to take the opportunity to claim some Asian turf. There's an entire balancing act that keeps this powder keg from going off, and you're going to kick it all down. All those people who'll get hurt then? They're gonna be on your head."

You narrow your eyes but do not spit out the first retort that comes to your mind. Do you want a gang war to rip through Brockton Bay? Of course you don't. It's one of the things you were worried about when you thought your dad was planning to go commando on them and blowing away everyone in sight. At the same time, though, any equilibrium like the one Tattletale is talking about that depends on the good sense of violent psychopaths like Lung and Kaiser? Not one you have much faith in. Tattletale herself named Lung as one of her 'crazies', and she still thinks he'd be amenable to keeping the status quo?

With people like them in charge, you can't help but wonder if a gang war is all but inevitable anyway, no matter what anyone does or doesn't do.

"So what's the whole point of this?" you taunt, waving a hand to encompass the rooftop. "Trying to convince me that I need to treat this all like a stupid game like you do and not worry about all the people who are getting hurt in the meantime?"

She scoffs. "Like you'd care. No, the whole point of this is that when you turn this city into ground zero, I want to be far, far away from here. But I can't do that while Coil is still around."

"Worried that he won't give you a good recommendation when your next boss calls for a character reference?"

"He gave me his 'recruitment pitch' while one of his thugs held a gun to my head," replies Tattletale in a flat voice. "He knew my name and everything about me. He has moles in the PRT. As long as he can have me killed like he's ordering a pizza, I can't get away. But since you're already taking this 'Warrior for Love and Justice' thing to an unhealthy extreme and you claim that you want to rid the city of all its villains…." She cocks her head. "Help get me out from under his thumb, where he can't just tug on my leash or send somebody to put a bullet in my head, and this villain will disappear so fast you'll think I'm a teleporter.

"What do you say? Want to stop a real monster before he establishes himself in this city the way the Empire and the ABB have?"


Wide Area Search learned.
+1 training to Wide Area Search (1/2 Adept).

What will you do about Tattletale's proposal?
[ ] Believe her – Everything she has said sounds above-board. You can't completely rule out that there were lies mixed in, and it wouldn't hurt to have Perfect Storm do some digging of its own for verification, but you'll give her the benefit of the doubt.
[ ] Ignore her – She have feeling she's telling the truth about giving Coil information on you and Danny, but everything else could be a lie and you'd never know it. Between the two of them, Coil seems to be the more trustworthy one.

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Trust no one – Verify everything you've been told before making a decision. You don't trust either party in this situation, but you can't completely rule out that Tattletale is telling the truth. And it wouldn't hurt to have Perfect Storm do some digging of its own for verification, so you'll take a rain check for now.
-[ ] But make it clear that she's the one asking you for help, so it's best for her to watch what she says and who's secrets she's throwing around. You're well within your rights to take her down to the PRT right now since she's prying into your secret identity and she's a Villain, so it's best for her to keep that in mind.
-[ ] Begin by telling her that if we were really as crazy as she says we are, she would probably be dead right now. Possibly ask her if the cops and robbers thing is how the world works, or just how she wants it to work. We are already moving carefully to minimize the probability and potential impact of our actions beginning a gang war, but leaving things as they are is an even worse option no matter what she tries to tell herself.


First Impact 2.6

If you're being totally honest, you are seriously tempted for a moment to tell Tattletale she can go fuck herself. She gives you serious Emma vibes, and you've had more than your fill of dealing with queen bitches. She can take her superior attitude somewhere else and choke on it.

But, thankfully, your common sense prevails in the end. If she is telling the truth, Coil is dangerous. Not necessarily more personally powerful than Lung, nor as numerous as the Empire, but still a villain with the end goal of ruling the city like some feudal warlord. He should really be an even higher priority at the moment just because it would be so much easier to remove him now than to wait until he is as entrenched as the other gangs. With the resources you have already figured out he has at his fingertips, delaying would be a massive mistake.

Of course, that is all based on a very big if. You have absolutely no reason to trust anything that Tattletale has just told you beyond the fact that she works for Coil, and even that is suspect. There are surely ways a parahuman could figure out what he said in that warehouse beyond him intentionally feeding her the information. You actually hope she is lying; the idea of another independent hero working alongside unpowered humans and striving to rip the gangs out of the city and who wants to be partners with the Privateers is almost too good to be true.

…But if something is too good to be true, it usually isn't.

Putting that flare of cynicism back into its mental cubbyhole, you turn to regard the villain. She is still looking at you with that haughty expression, as though she honestly thinks she can insult you to your face and you'll still jump to help her. A partnership with somebody like this is out of the question, but she is still Coil's enemy. She needs to learn some damned humility if she expects people to care about her asking for help.

"I'll think about it," you tell her.

"Don't try to lie to a psychic. I already know you're going to help. Now, I was—"

"Did I ever say I would help you, though? If Coil is bad for the city, that's one thing, but what he does to a little pissant like you? I could not give less of a shit. Besides, I need to check to see if anything you've told me is actually true. Maybe even ask him for his side of the story." Ah, that gets through to her. "I might still take him down, but if it's only after he puts a bullet between your eyes? That'd just be a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

"You wouldn't do that."

"How can you be so sure?" you ask in a syrupy voice. "I mean, you did just say I'm a violent psychopath. If you're as right as you think you are, I should really have lashed out and blasted a hole straight through your chest, or at the very least burned your fucking tongue out. Your teammates probably would have sent me a thank-you card for that one."

"You think you could survive a fight with my whole team? Because that's what you're asking for."

You don't need to be 'psychic' – or even a true telepath, though it seems like Perfect Storm is insistent on turning you into one – to see the fear on her face and in her voice. She wants to bluff? You'll call her on it. "You said you work for Coil, but you're just asking for safety for yourself. You know in the course of arresting him, I'll have to deal with the Undersiders. You wouldn't be coming to me unless you knew I could smack them down."

"They don't know that we work for him," she admits, which is obviously a serious struggle for her to do. "I'm the go-between."

"And yet you didn't go to them for help." The picture is starting to become clearer. "Because you know that any fight with him, they'd lose, yet you still expect me to win. And you think threatening me with them is going to scare me?"

"Entirely different powers," Tattletale points out in an icy voice. "You? They'd have an easy time with."

"Just be careful that they don't…. How did you phrase it? Push me just a little too far? Because if you're right, it will send me over the edge and I'll wind up killing them all." From the pinched look on her face, she does not enjoy the taste of the foot in her mouth. "Tell me, Tattletale, just how much of that cops and robbers bullshit do you actually believe? Or is it just a pretty little lie you tell yourself so you can pretend you'll ever amount to anything besides being some bigger villain's ten-cent whore?"

"You'd know all about being fucked over at every turn, wouldn't you?"

You smile, really just a baring of your teeth, and send Samantha a mental command to return. You're done here. "Be careful," you warn as your Guardian Beast leaps down to the rooftop and pads silently towards you. "Keep digging into who I am, and I might just forget this little conversation ever happened and chuck you into a cell. I'm tempted enough to do it now, anyway, I promise you that I most certainly will if I ever see or hear you after he's done with. Get out of my city and never come back."

"It won't be that easy," she replies in a voice even more arrogant than she used before making her proposal. "One of the benefits of being me. You even think about coming after me, and I'd know it. You couldn't be subtle if your life depended on—"

A loud growl rumbles from right behind the villain, and she whirls around with a scream before falling onto her butt. That is a bad position to be in when dealing with Samantha's war form, and the monstrous raccoon is quick to prove why. Tattletale goggles silently at the large teeth only inches in front of her and the fetid breath that comes from a carnivorous diet.

"Oh, I think I could manage."

Wordless warning imparted, Samantha slinks past the blonde for a few feet before transforming into her human shape. "You say you're psychic? Then you should know when someone's lying or telling the truth." She looks over her shoulder. "If you attempt to hurt her, you will have to deal with me, and I am much nastier than she. She would be content throwing you in prison. I would gut you and leave you as a feast for the crows."

You flick a worried glance at the animal turned woman before returning your attention to Tattletale. That is not a conversation to have in front of an enemy, and despite being willing to deal with Coil, you will not forget that that is exactly what she is. "Go away, Tattletale. I will send you a message on PHO when he is dealt with."

The two of you watch the blonde villain walk to the fire escape and disappear over the edge, and then silence descends onto the rooftop. Finally, Samantha sighs. "That could have gone better."

"You can say that again."

"You really shouldn't have antagonized her like that."

"I shouldn't have antagonized her?" you sputter in disbelief. "Ignoring for just a moment that you said you would kill her, what was I supposed to do? Just let her walk all over me?"

"In a word? Yes." You stare at her with patent confusion. "What that was should have been obvious. It was a dominance display, her fluffing up her fur to make herself look larger and more dangerous. A display of power in front of a stronger party, but that was all it was. Mere illusion. You should have ignored it."

"Even when she started figuring out who Dad and I are?"

Samantha smiles coldly. "She knew some things about you, but it did not sound like enough for her to discover your name. And even if she did, what of it? What could she do with the information? Using it to pressure you into anything would be suicide. From what I could determine, her abilities are almost guaranteed to be purely investigative. She has no defenses that would withstand your attacks, and the possibility that she could produce a weapon in short order that could pierce your Barrier Jacket, let alone your shield, is so low as to be laughable. Your combat ability is the entire reason she sought you out. If she made any threats, you would snap her in half, and she knew it. Nor would she pass that information to someone else. The parahumans, at least those in Brockton Bay, who are powerful enough to be a danger to you are also those she derided as 'crazies', and her own philosophy would undoubtedly prevent her from reaching out to them. Even if she did, when you survived the attack, who would be your first suspect for being the source of that information? She has nothing to gain and everything to lose should she try to attack you, directly or indirectly, in or out of costume."

"Then why do it at all?!"

"Because she is just like you in that respect. An impulsive, short-sighted adolescent." Your Guardian Beast shrugs. "And that might be the core of her personality, too. Arrogant, egotistical, insistent on having the upper hand at all times even to the detriment of her long-term goals."

You scowl at the rebuke. She… might have a point. "If I should have ignored her, then why did you threaten her?"

"Because you called her out on her weakness. You wounded her pride, and if she is that arrogant, she is undoubtedly a sore loser. I simply made sure she knows exactly what the consequences of salving that injury would be."

"And that's another thing. We're heroes, Samantha, and more, we're good people. Killing should be the last resort."

"You are a good person, sweetie," she corrects gently. "I am a good Guardian Beast. 'Your purpose'," she suddenly recites, "'to defend me and my allies, to destroy my foes, to support me in my purpose'. The terms of our contract are clear. It is my duty and my joy to do whatever is necessary to protect you."

The weight her voice lends to those words startles you. You barely remember the exact phrasing of the contract the ritual required, but she quoted it as if it were the most important thing in the world. She says it is a joy to do this, you wonder, but is it really? Or did you create a thinking, feeling being only to enslave her in the most complete way possible? Her declaration of devotion sounds too much like a clip you once heard from one of Heartbreaker's victims for your liking.
«It is why Mistress created a Guardian Beast.»
"You're broadcasting," you hear in your head. Samantha laughs softly at your surprise and reaches up to lay her hand on your cheek. "And you say you're no good at telepathy. I'm touched that you're so concerned about forcing me into this, but you don't need to be. I could have refused the contract had I wished. I chose to accept it."
«Sufficient iterations of personality matrix are tested until installation is successful.»
That is good enough, you suppose.

«Verification of information obtained from target Tattletale can begin at any time,» Perfect Storm tells you. «I require only the command from Mistress.»

Samantha laughs again. "See? It's not just me. We're both eager to help." Pulling you into an unexpected embrace, she whispers, "You don't have to do anything alone again, Taylor. We're here for you, and we will never walk away. You're stuck with us."

You hug her back, doing your best not to cry. Thank you. I love you, too.


I should start asking for more stunts like these. They certainly make writing the chapter that much easier.

Choose two activities to pursue next week
[ ] Light in the Darkness – Purity is one of the strongest Blasters in the country, and more than once you've heard her be referred to as "evil Legend". This is not someone you can afford to let go unchallenged, even if she hasn't been seen in Nazi company for a while.
[ ] Big Game Hunting, Part 2 – Samantha was a hit with Vista and Kid Win! Now that the fun is over, though, there's still paperwork to fill out. Take her to the Rig and register her as an official hero with the Protectorate, just as you did for yourself and Captain.
[ ] Strange Bedfellows, Part 3 – Put Perfect Storm on the task of verifying Tattletale's information. She deserves being let to stew for a little bit, but the sooner you find out the truth and make a move, the sooner that bitch is out of your city. One way or another.
[ ] Endangered Species – You asked for powers with which to eliminate the gangs. You even received the powers of someone who apparently had made it her life's work to do the same. It's long past time you got started on fulfilling that promise. Find a gang and wipe it off the map.
-[ ] Write-in
[ ] Eye of the Tiger – Spend your free time in the training simulator. Can by chosen twice.
-[ ] Write-in for which spell to practice

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Big Game Hunting, Part 2 – Samantha was a hit with Vista and Kid Win! Now that the fun is over, though, there's still paperwork to fill out. Take her to the Rig and register her as an official hero with the Protectorate, just as you did for yourself and Captain.

[ ] Strange Bedfellows, Part 3 – Put Perfect Storm on the task of verifying Tattletale's information. She deserves being left to stew for a little bit, but the sooner you find out the truth and make a move, the sooner that bitch is out of your city. One way or another.


First Impact 2.7

Tuesday, February 16
"Miss Militia here."

«Hey, Miss Militia,» you project to Perfect Storm. You had not known that among all the other things it can do, you Device could also tap into the cellular phone network, but apparently it can. «I'm about a minute out from the Rig. I have another teammate I need to sign up with you.»

"Samantha, right?"

«How did you…?»

The older heroine laughs. "Vista. She could not stop talking about your teammate. It got to the point we were worried she was going to run to Houston and demand a pair of ears from Bonesaw."

You blink in surprise. Bonesaw was once a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine, a villain group that committed such atrocities that even joining was considered reason enough to be slapped with a kill order. They had spread terror and death for over twenty years until they made the mistake in early 2010 of visiting Los Robados, a small town in Texas that also happened to be the home of a previously unknown cape now named Breakdown. Breakdown took offense at their presence and went on a one-man rampage. Details were sparse, but what was known was that he slew them all one by one, somehow managing to kill even the all-but-indestructible Crawler and Siberian. Only Bonesaw was spared on account of her age, and during her trial, her story about the Nine's attack on her home when she was six years old garnered her enough sympathy that she was remanded into Protectorate custody until she turned eighteen, at which time the final decision about what to do with her would be made.

Personally, you think the jury agreed to that because none of them wanted to be the one who made the decision if she was a monster in her own right or yet another of Jack Slash's victims, and you can't exactly blame them for taking the easy way out. You are not sure what you would have done in their shoes, either.

«I thought she was kept under house arrest or something.»

"She is, but we let her out during Endbringers attacks and natural disasters to assist the medical teams, or when the Texas team has extraordinary injuries. She's supervised at all times, obviously, but she is the world's greatest biotinker, and it seems appropriate that her skills are used to help people for a change. Her psychiatrist encourages it, actually. It's his hope that with socialization, she could be rehabilitated."

The helipad comes into view, and you tell her, «We're here. Just please tell the guys on the roof not to point the spray guns at me for his time.»

"Will do! I'll be there in a minute."

The PRT agents give you and Samantha suspicious glances when you touch down, but there is none of the aggression you had to deal with on your first trip out here. Clearly filling out that form for yourself and your dad was the right decision, even if you were a little vague on his abilities. Only a few seconds pass before one of them raises a hand to his ear and nods. "Miss Militia says you can go in. Wait for her in the same meeting room you used previously. Is that understood?"

"Sure." You look down at your Device while walking through the door. «You remember where that was?»

It chimes quietly, and a wireframe map pops up in the top left corner of your vision. "It shouldn't take very long to do this. We can probably fill everything out while we're here." At the same time, you look down at Perfect Storm. «Do it.»

«Orders confirmed. Beginning analysis.»

It is probably rude to tell Perfect Storm to test the Protectorate's cyber security, but if you're going to go after Coil, you want to be sure you're doing the right thing. So far, what your Device has found on the Internet supports Tattletale's version of events, but you also remember what he said about the PRT actively trying to make him sound like a villain. If Perfect Storm can grab their files on him with a minimum of risk, you will know for certain whether the crimes he has been accused of are really his doing or if it is all just a smokescreen.

The meeting room looks much the same as it did last time, and you and Samantha sit down to wait. You are not left alone for long; Miss Militia pokes her head in and then enters fully, a sheaf of papers in her left hand. "Calamity, nice to see you again. I had hoped to catch up with you the times we went out to secure the Merchants your team captured, but we seem to constantly miss each other."

You shake her proffered hand while wondering just how often she has gone out expecting to find you. That, and how many spots have the guys hit so far? Maybe keeping yourself separate from the team so much was a bad idea. "Sorry about that. I haven't given the team much help directly recently. I've had a few other things on my plate." Recalling the concerned warnings the heroine gave you the last time you spoke, you ask, "There haven't been any problems, have there?"

"Only Director Piggot's general displeasure with a team of normals operating in the area, but that was to be expected once you told us what Captain's power is." She shrugs and pulls out a chair for herself. "Power-granting capes are always a headache like that. We finally rated the team as a whole as Thinker 0 for expediency, which technically puts the Privateers under the Protectorate's authority and should keep anyone from looking too closely unless something serious happens."

That was good news, and not just because it resolves what could have become a major point of friction. It also means your dad has stuck to his promise to use equal rather than excessive force. If the Privateers were going overboard, you are sure Miss Militia would have mentioned it.

"And you must be Samantha," the patriotic hero says to your Guardian Beast. "It shouldn't come as a surprise, but you already have a fan."

Samantha smiles. "Vista is a cutie. And I have to compliment Kid Win, too; I was impressed by his competence against Rune."

"If it's a difficult balance, training them so they can take care of themselves in the field without taking away their chances to be kids, but I like to think we have a decent handle on it. Samantha, I understand you don't intend to have an alternate identity?"

"I would have a hard time blending in with this, don't you think?" The uplifted raccoon brushes the striped tail laying across her lap.

Miss Militia frowns lightly and twirls the pen in her hand. "Do you remember anything from before you gained your powers?"

You and Samantha share a confused glance. That was not something she asked you. "That seems a very specific question," your Guardian Beast responds slowly.

"That's because it is. Have either of you ever heard of Case 53s?" You shake your head, as does Samantha. "You, Calamity, might recognize them by their colloquial description of 'monstrous capes'. They are parahumans who have significant and obvious deviations in their appearance and lose all memories of their lives before their trigger events. I need to know because most Case 53s have special needs that can be difficult to accommodate, and we offer support groups and services to help you adjust to your new life and search for your previous identity."

«Mistress,» Perfect Storm interrupts, «passive scan is complete. No easily accessible files found. Protectorate servers have multiple levels of both passive and active countermeasures. Defenses will not inhibit me, but my search will be noticed. Avoiding defenses may be possible, but it will require additional time. What does Mistress desire?»

"Calamity?" You look up to find Miss Militia looking at you worriedly. "Is everything all right?"


Since I had several people ask about hacking the PRT for intel on Coil, here you go.

How do you want Perfect Storm to proceed?

[ ] Infiltrate the system, avoiding the defenses as best it can. Subtlety is more important than speed.

[ ] Smash through the defenses and find out what they know. Getting the information won't be the problem; talking your way out of trouble if you get caught will.

[ ] Monitor incoming and outgoing messages for relevant information but don't actively search. You might not find anything, but you can't get caught.

[ ] Don't hack the PRT. All these options are riskier than you want to deal with. You'll get the information some other way.

What will you tell Miss Militia about Samantha?

[ ] She was an ordinary animal you turned into a magic-wielding super-warrior. There's no way that can be taken badly.

[ ] She's a Case 53. It might be a lie, but it certainly sounds like it would avoid future suspicion.

[ ] Write-in

 

[Silently Watches]

[ ] Monitor incoming and outgoing messages for relevant information but don't actively search. You might not find anything, but you can't get caught.
[ ] We don't think she's strictly a Case 53 but the details are personal. She doesn't have any memories of her past normal life though, so we'd like to take advantage of anything we can do to handle creating one now as well as any other necessary details.


First Impact 2.8
Crap. Thinking quickly, you say, "No, I'm good. I mean, yes, everything's fine. I was just caught up thinking about something else. Sorry. You were asking about Samantha being one of these Case 53s, right?"

Miss Militia nods.

The temptation to lie is strong. Answering 'yes' would satisfy their curiosity and should not prompt many other questions. But this is Miss Militia. Not only is she a hero, but in both your interactions with her so far, she's been upfront and honest with you. Taking advantage of her trust and pulling the wool over her eyes seems a poor way to repay her. That said, the full truth is likely not a good idea, either, not with capes like Nilbog and Blasto and the aforementioned Bonesaw running around. Villains who can create life are feared for good reason, and though you are a hero, you know there are people who are scared of any cape who can do something like that.

The best option is to go with a half-truth.

"We don't think she is. I mean, she hasn't had any problems that we've noticed, and aside from the ears and tail, she is totally normal, and…." Running out of things to say, you look to the sapient raccoon. «Help?»

Samantha takes pity on you and turns to the older hero. "A Case 53 has no memory of her former life, correct? Then that label does not apply to me. I do not remember much of my existence before this, but I do remember some. Sounds and smells, flashes of insight about how I would have done something before and how it is different to what I do now. A few other things, as well, but, and please do not take this the wrong way—"

"But it's personal, and you don't know me."

"Indeed." The raccoon and the hero share sad smiles before the former continues, "I have only heard good things about you from Calamity Witch, and I would like to know you well enough to trust you with this, but for now? I do not feel comfortable doing so."

"Perfectly understandable," Miss Militia agrees. "If there is anything I can do to help you get back on your feet…?"

You and your Guardian Beast glance at each other, and you again take point. "Is there some way we could get a driver's license or something for her? She can't have a secret identity, obviously, but in case she wants to go somewhere or do something and they want proof that she is who she says she is."

"It's not impossible. We have forms we use to create new legal identities for Case 53s." Miss Militia leans back in her chair. "Since you don't think she technically is one, I would need to justify it, but the circumstances are so similar that it shouldn't be a problem. You would just have to come back some other time after I receive the Director's authorization. There are some psychological tests involved, but they're just so we can determine your mental age and put down an approximate birth year. The whole process should only take a couple of hours."

"I can take care of that while you're studying," Samantha tells you.

"What about her date of birth?" you ask. Miss Militia did say that there were services in place for Case 53s, and while they are not of immediate importance, you cannot help but find yourself interested in the intricacies.

"We use the date of their earliest memory. Unless what day you were born happens to be one of the things you remember?" Samantha shakes her head, and the heroine sighs. "Worth a shot."

While Samantha and Miss Militia engross themselves in the paperwork to register your Guardian Beast as an independent hero, you return your attention to your patiently waiting Intelligent Device. «You said you won't get caught if you try hacking their system?»

«The likelihood is minimal.»

Minimal is not the same as none, and the thoughts about repaying Miss Militia's generosity return to the front of your mind. «Is there anything you can do that doesn't pose any risk of them catching you? Particularly anything that's as non-invasive as possible?»

«Investigating.» Perfect Storm is quiet for a moment. «Incoming and outgoing communications are monitored less. Defenses can be disabled without compromise of secrecy.»

«Do that, then. Focus only on messages that talk about Coil, mercenaries, or lasers, or on messages that look like they might be from his moles. There's no reason to read through all their mail.»
«Plan is suboptimal. Infiltration will better achieve objectives.»
«Probability of success is lower than for active infiltration.»
«Verifying command authorization. Preparing to override.»
You roll your eyes. «I get that, but I really don't want you to risk it. Besides, they're our allies. Let's not make enemies out of them. While you're listening in, poke around the Net some more. See if you can find any new information on him or anything you missed the first time around.»
«Mistress possesses sovereign-level authorization.»
«Whatever Mistress desires.»
«Orders from Mistress are absolute.»

xxxxxxxxxxxxx​

Friday, February 18
Dozens of holographic screens float in front of you, each displaying a source of information regarding Coil's activities and clustered together based on crime. Drug sales. Extortion. Bribery. Murder for hire.

"You've verified all of these?"

«Correct.»

You sigh loudly and mutter, "Fantastic. He's just as bad as Kaiser, and we jumped at the chance to work with him."

A weight settles on your shoulder, and you glance out the corner of your eye to find that it is Samantha's head. "You didn't know. He talked a good talk, and it was possible that the PRT got overzealous and classified him as a villain when he really wasn't. Velocity made that assumption when you first met him, too, remember?

"But it isn't what mistakes you made then that matter. That's in the past, no changing it. What matters is what we're going to do."

"We're going to do exactly what we should have done the first time." A mental command makes the screens vanish. "We're going to break him and haul him to the Protectorate."

"All right," she says. "How? The two of us can probably take out the mercenaries he brought with him to the exchange, but how many more does he have that we don't know about? There's no reason not to gather as many allies as we can."

«Raise an army before waging war,» Perfect Storm agrees.

"None of the emails tell us anything about who his moles are. If we try to pull in the whole Protectorate, there's the chance that one of them will tip him off," you say.

"No, but we might be able to get a couple to help without the moles finding out."

"And we still don't know where he is."

Samantha reaches over to pat your head. "So we need to find him. We need allies, or at least we can use them. And once we have those, we need a plan of attack. A lot to do, but it is doable, and the faster we move, the better our chances of success."

You nod, a smile forming. Broken down like that, it looks much less daunting than it first did. "You're right, it is doable. And I think I have some ideas already."


Let's make things interesting. There are efficient and effective strategies with which to go after Coil; there are also horribly inefficient ways to do it. So….

What's the plan?
[ ] Write-in