[] Follow – What is Epoch thinking, showing himself in the open like this? There's something weird going on, but it doesn't look like he wants to fight. If he wants a peaceful meeting, you can oblige him unless he crosses the line first.
-[] Have Perfect Storm alert Legend of what's going on, along with a constant tracker beacon of your position and an audio-video file/transcription of everything you and PS can see, hear, and scan for.
-[] Have Sam teleport to the area and watch from afar, just in case.
Maskless 6.6
This is a trap. You know it's a trap. It's the trapiest trap there ever was.
…And yet you're still curious about what Epoch has to say.
You're so dead, you decide as you drift towards the rooftop, but maybe you don't have to die alone. «Samantha?» you project carefully. Perfect Storm has assured you on more than one occasion that you can reach your Guardian Beast anywhere in the world with telepathy, but you have never tried it from this far away. If your Device overestimated its capabilities—
«Mrrrm…?»
A blink is the appropriate response to that message. That sounded almost sleepy. «Sam, I thought you and Dad were standing guard in case something happened while the Protectorate had their PR thing going on.»
«We are,» she replies after a moment. «Danny was just petting me to pass the time. What's up?»
«I just talked with Legend,» you tell her, careful not to think too hard on what she said. Considering the eyes she's been making at your dad ever since you created her, you dearly hope that isn't a euphemism. «He said it was almost certainly from the Adepts, a villain group here in New York City. I just spotted their leader waiting for me.»
«So long as you don't plan to pick a fight— Oh, no. Please tell me you aren't going to follow him.» You don't reply to that, but your silence tells her all she needs to know. «Taylor, don't do it. This is a stupid idea, and you know.»
«He might just want to talk?»
A screaming groan zips across the line. «Dear Empress. Okay. You want to do it that way? Fine. I'm coming over there right now. I'll stay out of sight,» she says before you can warn her off, «but if I get even one bad scent, I'm busting in and busting heads. And you had better blast and slice him if he so much as lifts a finger wrong. And call Legend and tell him what you're about to do, damn it.»
«Do you really think I was going to follow a New York villain and not tell the local Protectorate?» Giving Perfect Storm a mental nudge, you whisper, "Can you call Legend for me, please? Thank you."
«Just keep yourself out of trouble for two minutes, all right?»
"Legend speaking."
"Legend, it's Calamity Witch." Epoch is still too far away for him to make out what you're saying, but he gives you a nod and blinks out of existence. Teleportation? No, wait, he was standing right next to the edge of the roof. Did he really just fast-forward a jump off a ten-story building? Flying faster, you glance down at the alleyway and see him walking calmly away as if such a fall wouldn't have broken his legs. Realizing you were leaving Legend hanging, you continue, "I just saw Epoch on a rooftop. He was waiting for me."
"Do you still have eyes on him? I'll be right there—"
"You don't need to do that," you cut in. "This might be the chance to find out what happened to your hero. If he did Master her, we'll be able to find out, and I'm immune to them, anyway. If he convinced her some other way, we'll know."
"Can you keep this connection going that long?"
You'll do him one better. "Are you at your computer?" «Storm, can you send a video stream?»
The Intelligent Device chimes as Legend's affirmation trails off. "Well. That'll work, I suppose. Just be careful."
With both those warnings ringing in your ears, you descend to where the villain is holding a side door open for you. "Epoch."
"Calamity Witch," he answers with a smile. "If you'd like to come inside, we can talk somewhere more comfortable than a dirty alley."
"What reason do I have to believe I won't be walking into an ambush?" Epoch's smile fades, but it isn't anger that takes its place. He actually looks sad, like he sees it as a personal failing that you don't trust him. This guy is the leader of a bunch of villains? Cursing your sympathy, you compromise, "You go first."
He nods and leads you inside and down a hall to a plain wooden door, behind which is a couple of chairs facing each other and a coffee table with an old-fashioned tea set. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you. I just want answers."
"Then answers I will provide." Pouring himself a cup, he settles down in one chair and gestures for you to take the other. You float an inch above the cushion just in case it's trapped but still low enough that he won't realize it. "What would you like to know?"
"Let's start with something easy. Were you the ones who left the statue?"
"We were. Did you like it?"
You eye him incredulously. They tracked down your civilian identity, broke into your house, and he's worried that you didn't like the statue? "Not my style."
Epoch chuckles and nods. "Understood. Geomancer's tastes aren't for everyone, but he's just so earnest with his work that no one has the heart to tell him."
"Threats also aren't my style," you continue in a low growl.
"Threats?" he asks in a voice of honest confusion. "What threats?"
"You broke into my house, into my bedroom, and left a statue and a note with my cape name, and you don't see how that is a threat?"
He turns his head to look at you out the corner of his eye, the domino mask beneath his hood doing little to mask his expression. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Why would we give someone one of our enhancements if we wanted to threaten them?"
Now it is your turn to be puzzled. "Enhancement?"
"Yes. Wait," he says with a sigh, "didn't you touch the statue?"
You did, but maybe you shouldn't have. No reason to tell him that. "Do you touch strange things that appear in your bedroom without warning?"
Setting his cup in his lap, he rubs his temples with the thumb and middle finger of one hand. "That explains a few things. We laid one of our charms on your statue, just as we do all the statues we give to capes we are interested in. Touch it when you get back, and you'll feel your powers increase. The effect isn't permanent, but for most people it serves as sufficient evidence that our motives toward them are not malevolent."
"And leaving it in my bedroom?"
"What do you know of our membership?" You shake your head. "We have only one teleporter among our ranks, and his power is… awkward. Once he has a mental image of a person, he can go to one of two places: either to their side or to the heart of their domain, the place where they feel safest. For Tinkers, it tends to be their workshops; for some professional heroes, their mission rooms or common areas of their bases; but for most of us, it is our bedrooms. I assure you, Calamity Witch, Planeswalker is the very soul of discretion. He does not leave the room where he finds himself; he does not dig around in people's belongings or examine their photographs. All he does is leave the gifts and return to our base. He knows that his power treads upon the Unwritten Rules, but it is safer for him and you both not to appear next to you in public while you are in your secret identity.
"If you did not take on the enhancement and instead just saw the statue and the note, though, I can easily see why you might have thought it threatening. You have my personal apologies, Calamity Witch. It was never my intention to make you feel that you were in any danger. I merely wished to give you a token of friendship and hopefully have a conversation with you."
That is better, you suppose. "What kind of conversation?"
"Why, a conversation about magic, of course," he answers with a laugh. You scowl, which only makes him laugh again. "I know what our reputation is. Morons. Nutcases. We're parahumans who think we have some kind of mystical power that requires chants and offerings and dances in the moonlight. We have all doubted ourselves on more than one occasion. How could we not when we face obstacles and have no one to turn to for reassurance?" He leans back in his chair. "Even Maclibuin and I, the very founders of our group, have these same concerns from time to time. And then you came along."
"Me?" you ask. So the Adepts think you're something special, and out of blind luck they managed to pick someone who actually does have magic. Fantastic. "What makes you think I have the answers you want?"
"I think you have the answers because you have done a remarkably poor job of hiding your magical prowess. The only reason the public at large hasn't realized it is that they don't know what to look for." Doubt is still writ large over your face, and he sighs once again and sets his teacup down on the table. "Would you like a demonstration of what I mean?"
"Sure. Wow me."
Giving you a nod, he crosses his legs lotus-style and takes a deep breath in and out. A moment later, he slowly begins to drift up out of his chair and eventually stops a few inches above it. Credit where credit is due, it does look like an incredibly weak version of your own flight, but that said… "Good trick. You can join every other 'extreme magician' on TV who does the same thing."
"Very well," he agrees as he returns to his seat. "You have a point. In this place, where I have had time to prepare, I could pull such a thing off with stage tricks. How about something closer to home?" Before you can ask what he means, he shuts his eyes and cups his hands in front of him. Quiet seconds pass, but then a faint blue spark flickers and dies. It reappears again, and again, and then it is joined by its siblings. Soon they start lasting longer, and then they clump together and grow large and smoother and brighter.
A minute passes before Epoch opens his eyes and grins at your look of shock. In his hands hovers a pale blue sphere, a perfect match in all but color to your Flare Shooter.
"I have spent the last year working on ways to adapt magic to a more offensive purpose," he whispers. "This is the fruit of my labor. It is difficult to maintain such a thing, keeping the power harnessed when on its own it wants to dissipate. I can even throw it a few feet before it breaks apart. But it is far from impressive or practical. An attack that takes a minute to form? Worthless. I was tempted to scrap this project entirely, or at most try to adapt it to be a light source or something equally mundane.
"And then, like the whisper of destiny itself, what did I find online but a video of a new hero who called herself a witch. I watched it out of idle curiosity, and I am so glad I did. The flight and the invulnerability I could have written off as you being yet another flying brick, but your attacks? Your 'Flare Shooter'? No. The similarities were far too great to be mere coincidence. You understand magic at a level that I have never been able to reach despite all the years I have put into studying it. How could I let an opportunity like this slip away?"
"You want me to join you."
He shakes his head, a twinkle in his eyes. "If an amateur art group discovers that a master painter lives nearby, do they ask him to join them as an equal? Of course not. I am not asking you to join us, Calamity Witch. I am begging you to teach us."
That was not what you expected. "Out of curiosity," you ask, "what would happen if I said no? Would you force the issue?"
"No. Not in the slightest. I would hope desperately that you would change your mind in the future, but I would not stop you from making your decision."
Because he's a nice guy, or because getting you mad would not suit his motives? You don't really know. This entire conversation has not been what you expected. "I can't give you an answer right now."
"That is understandable. I surprised you with this meeting." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a business card of all things and hands it to you. "This will connect you to my business phone. You can't track it," he adds with another grin, "but you can get in touch with me without issue. I would appreciate it if you would let me know when you make a decision."
You stand, and he follows suit. "And what will you do in the meantime?" you ask. "Are you going to keep going after heroes like you did Standstill?"
"Hero, villain, rogue; magic makes no distinction, and neither do I." He tilts his head just a little challengingly. "I approached young Standstill as I have many others. I explained the powers she never knew she had. I gave her the means to contact me. And then I let her make her own decision, just as I am for you. Despite what Legend likely claimed, we did nothing to force her to come. She chose to join us and work to understand her gifts of her own free will."
Uh huh. "You managed all that in the ten seconds you froze her partner for?"
"That is a secret for another time," he says with a wink.
There is little you have to say to that. Taking the invitation to leave, you walk out the door and into the sky. «Video feed terminated,» Perfect Storm tells you.
The video feed! You honestly hadn't thought about it until now. Epoch's revelations had knocked you off-balance enough that you completely forgot. You just hope Legend won't react badly to the idea that you have the same power that at least Epoch does. Or that Standstill, if the Adepts' leader can be believed, really did quit the Protectorate and joined a bunch of villains. …Or that you didn't exactly tell Epoch no, but what were you supposed to do?! There were just too many surprises coming after you one after another!
"That was interesting," Samantha says once she jumps off a nearby roof and joins you. You give her a curious glance. "I was watching the video. Have to admit, not what I expected. A whole group of mages here on Earth Bet. Too bad they're villains, or they might make good allies."
"We'd need to do some digging before making that offer. Maybe they're villains like Faultline's group, mercenaries who get hired to break the law. Or maybe they're like the Empire and just have a charismatic leader."
"Seems more like the old Marche if we want to make Brockton Bay comparisons. I did some reading on who the players were and used to be back home," she explains. "If we want to talk about cultured scumbags, I'd think Marquis before Kaiser."
"Either way, not a decision I feel like making on impulse."
The orange light of Spatial Translocation shines around you, and then you're back in your bedroom. Curious, you let your Barrier Jacket fade away and touch the statue of the Fury again.
"Well," Samantha asks tauntingly, "do you feel your powers growing?"
"No." Your hand drops. "Absolutely nothing. So what the hell did he mean?"
+1 training to Temporal Sludge (4/4 Master).
+1 training to Charge Cartridges (2/3 Adept).
+1 training to Shell Barrier (2/4 Adept).
So many omake these last few weeks, I love it! I'll have to think of something special to give you if you earn all the available training points.
No good chapter-related vote for this one, mostly because I didn't reach the stopping point I wanted because this conversation took so fucking long. So what to get you talking about? Hmm… Ah-ha! Tim's build count and the Privateer's inventory has now been updated ahead of schedule, so we can jump ahead and work on that.
There are two things to focus on, building things from his available skills and buying new skills. You can save the points from his build counter for a long as you want, don't worry. With his current equipment, he can build one or two projects this week depending on how complicated you want it to be. Start throwing some ideas out, and I'll give you the yea or nay and whether you can build something else. The actual vote will be in plan format, and I'll go into that more when the vote itself is open.
And before anyone asks, yes, there is a 24 hour moratorium on this because it's a new feature and I need to make sure this is clear to everyone before the votes start being cast. If it doesn't work out… I guess I'll be retooling things for next time.