Magical Girl Escalation Taylor (Worm/Nanoha)
- Thread starter Silently Watches
- Start date
- Location
- Georgia
I haven't had a chance to participate in a relevant vote, but recall that in ordinary arcs, we get social actions separate from our primary action pool. That's two arcs away that we get that again, mind you, but that's not a lot of in game time, just lots of time for us. Leviathan or Behemoth will only be a couple of hours in the game world but still count as a full arc. This arc we just finished was to let us go do whatever we wanted without any urgent, burning crises coming from the QM that we had to deal with or suffer.
Tolkien disagrees.
Of course, if I had the powers and knowledge Tim has even if only applied to the mutagenics, I think I'd quite happily spend the rest of my life devising new races to make people and looking for people interested in those forms.
Being Alexandria's protege would almost certainly come with a fair amount of incentives and a lot more freedom then the usual Protectorate member. I strongly suspect that Alexandria's recruitment 'speech' back in Cloudy Skies 11.1 might have actually succeeded against an adult Calamity Witch. As it currently stands 16 year old Taylor loses far too much control, independence, and flexibility by joining the Wards (even if she was working directly under Alexandria) as we can see with Vista. At 18 the loses are significantly less and all the benefits/reasons for joining Alexandria laid out start looking a lot more attractive.
The first thing work noting here is that what you are describing is vastly beyond the scope of the quest. MGET explicitly ends at Step 1: Remove The Endbringers. Which isn't really surprising since steps 2 and 3 would require, and this is being generous here, decades of in game time.
Remember the TSAB is flat out unwilling to talk to Earth until we have a unified planetary government. That is why we gave up on pushing the TSAB and PRT together; the TSAB forces made it clear that anything outside minimal interaction would be illegal.
The second, and honestly more important, point here is that we can do precisely nothing to really direct the PRT as an independent even with a 'team'. Even on the low end of the things, and Silently Watches has confirmed they are using higher numbers, the PRT has 42,000 employees. That translates to:
- 39,900 Non Mages
- 945 D-Rank Mages
- 735 C-Rank Mages
- 210 B-Rank Mages
- 105 A-Rank Mages
- 63 AA-Rank Mages
- 42 AAA-Rank Mages
Frankly a team of super friends just isn't relevant at these scales.
If we want to influence the direction of Bet mages and Earth Bet in general the answer isn't to build a team of super friends. It is to tie ourselves increasingly closer to the Protectorate/PRT, leading to Taylor joining when she is either nearly or actually 18, as their senior mage and general instructor. Basically we have the opportunity to lay the groundwork for how Earth Bet's mage corps work. If we work together with the PRT/Protectorate rather then trying to go off and do our own thing.
Thing is, that's roughly 3 years of in-game time before we could (hopefully) start to influence policy. And I imagine the PRT will have an idea how they want to train their burgeoning mage corps by then. How much could we really affect that down the line?
Remember we have actions to start helping with that starting in Arc 14:
Yes we won't be a member of the Protectorate at that time but given our age, which Chevaliar probably hasn't spread around too much, us acting as something analogous to an independent contractor actually puts us in a better position.
Doubly so when you consider that as things currently stand the Mages are remaining PRT employees and not being transferred over to the Protectorate. So really being a part of the Protectorate/Wards doesn't matter so much here.
- Location
- New Jersey, USA
That's how the Protectorate is supposed to function in canon with regards to superheroes
- Location
- Georgia
Unless I mixed up my count, we have three weeks before we can make another template, at which point I'll be pushing to give Standstill a template, followed by two to six weeks* to find another mage we like enough.
*If we can vote in ten build slots, we can reduce the cooldown for the next template to two weeks. That leaves us 5 to 9 weeks to find or make that mage before we can act on that desire.
The last three votes, I've tried to get us to ping the two of them with telepathy as something that can be done subtly on a one on one basis instead of pinging a lot of people with a specific message. Telepathy has been mistaken for speech in Nanoha canon, iirc, so long as the person involved can't see that your mouth isn't moving.**
**The TSAB likely doesn't have ventriloquists thanks to this.
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OOC yes we should be maximizing the number of Templates we can output.
IC however:
creating Templates is very much not something Taylor wants to do frequently if at all.
We don't even really have the choice of plugging it into something else to power because:
Bad Idea!
- Location
- Earth, Sol System, Virgo Supercluster, Earth-1218
We don't know if using devices to shortcut the time limit also removes the pain aspect, it may be sympathetic pain from IAE ripping itself apart to form the new device and not Taylor's pain.
- Location
- Georgia
If I recall correctly, sacrificing devices provides the power needed, so Taylor would not have to go through the whole coffin experience again, though SW did say that the same amount of her time would still be taken up, probably to keep us from trying to min-max the issue.
What could be very useful is a second TG who focuses on making devices for us to cannibalize, since it takes a week and a half for Tim to make enough devices to fulfill IAE's template creation. Making a template every two weeks would mean sacrificing a lot of activity slots, but we'd be building an army in the practice.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
The pain Taylor experiences is from being plugged in to IAE; it isn't sympathetic. Using up Devices would provide all the power IAE needs to build another Device of that type, so she gets to stay out and do her own thing rather than pulling a Matrix-style "turn humanity into batteries".
- Location
- Georgia
Would that mean we could perform a social activity while that was going on, with the understanding that we'll lose access to any non mastered spells, our barrier jacket, and ranged telepathy other than with Samantha? There are reasonably safe things we could do with the three non-team members who know our civilian ID, or with any team members for that matter.
Correct, giving willing people devices is fine, its forcing devices, and possibly linker core drugs, onto people that the problem. And while SWs restriction is a thing just becuase someone has a legitimate device doesnt mean much necessarily. I mean if lung had a d rank core its be a steal, heck id argue for most of the major trouble makers/threats c rank and under is an improvement.
Its would still be evil though.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
You certainly could.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
This is one of those things that if you can figure out a way to persuade them to take it, it would go a long way in terms of moral defensibility. Like asking the rage dragon whether he wants a mutation if it maybe gets rid of the voices in his head. Just a thought.
Cloudy Skies 11.x
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
Cloudy Skies 11.x
Saturday, July 9
The phone ringing in his pocket was swiftly silenced, and Phil Paulson took a deep, slow breath in and out through his nose. His granddaughter had not noticed, too deep in her recitation of Debussy's Clair de Lune to pay attention to anything else, but several people nearby had turned their gazes from the piano on stage to glare at him. A short glance told him it was a call he had no choice but to take.
"Sorry. Work," he told his daughter, who sighed in resignation and shifted so he could slip past her.
Only once he was outside in the lobby of the auditorium did he flip the phone open. "This had better be an emergency." He made it clear on his schedule what times, few as they were, that he was not to be called for all but the most dire of circumstances.
"I'm sorry, Director," the woman operating the switchboard said, "but it's the Chief Director on the line, and she doesn't like being told to wait."
Another breath, though this one ended in a sigh. He did not dislike Costa-Brown, but on days like today he could not help but think her sense of timing could really use some work. "Put her through."
The quality of the silence on the other end changed, and immediately a familiar voice spoke. "My apologies for interrupting your Saturday, Director Paulson, but I need to speak with you with some urgency."
"It's that time sensitive?" Nothing that needed to be handled this hastily and also involved the Chief Director of the PRT could be a good thing. Normally it heralded an S-class event. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the notepad he always carried and double-checked to make sure that no, they were not yet in the projected time range for the next Endbringer attack.
"Not in the manner you are thinking. It is more because of an offer that fell in our laps recently that we would prefer to move on before we run the risk of it being rescinded." There is a moment's pause before Costa-Brown continues. "We – by which I mean Legend and myself – would like the Philadelphia branch to help us prove that magic is real."
He blinked. "You want… I'm sorry, could you run that by me again?"
"You heard that correctly, Phillip," she said with obvious amusement. "What do you know about Calamity Witch? She's an independent hero in your city."
"I know of her. She's been involved in some of the major operations in the city the last few months, saved one of our Wards when they were attacked by Cadejo. That's about it."
"She gave us a demonstration last week, and we looked at some of the data Dragon provided us about her. She is definitively not a parahuman." That caught his attention. "Her powers reportedly come from a natural ability to tap into a previously unknown energy field and manipulate that energy for a variety of effects. Not only is it not parahuman in nature, it is also a learnable skill should someone have the inherent potential. She says she has taught other people how to do so already."
Phil rubbed his chin, thinking through everything she had told him. Costa-Brown had a tendency to give out just enough information for people to figure out what she was really saying, but little enough that it was never obvious. It was an odd quirk of hers that he had heard a few people attribute to a need to be the smartest person in the room, although he had never thought that himself. Personally, he thought it came from the same place as her distaste of small talk, the desire never to waste words. "You want to find people with that same ability in the PRT. I suppose it's because she's local or we are a relatively small branch."
"Correct on both counts. The small size of the branch makes it the perfect choice for an ambitious pilot program like this one. While we know it can be taught, we do not know how quick or effective such instruction is."
"This still sounds"—insane—"unconventional, to put it lightly. What do you plan for her to teach in the first place? Pulling rabbits out of hats?" he laughed.
"She offered to teach your agents how to transform animals into fully sapient demi-humans with high-rated powers of their own."
"…What?" he asked after a very long pause. "That's possible?"
A soft sound came from the other end of the line. Was Costa-Brown laughing at him? "Calamity Witch claims her companion, who we assumed was a Case-53, was created in just such a matter."
"If that's true, it would completely change the balance of power. Even a small number of capes would weigh the scales in our favor—" He cut himself off as a thought came to mind. This magic, if it even existed, would create new capes. "It would not be in the PRT's favor, would it? Not strictly speaking. They and the magicians or whatever how created them would all be moved to the Protectorate."
That stung. He did not begrudge the Protectorate their existence, nor did he have an issue with any of the heroes in Philadelphia the way a minority of branch directors did. Chevalier, for instance, was the kind of person he would have happily had as his deputy were his powers not an issue. Just because he did not dislike the members of the Protectorate did not mean he had to be happy about how they were eclipsing the PRT more and more every year.
He was one of the old breed. He knew it. He could still remember a time when the role of the PRT was not just cleaning up after a fight between capes and hauling arrested criminals to prison, but when they actually took the fight to the villains on the front lines. And now, not only was the PRT steadily losing purpose, it was even going to lose members.
"No," Costa-Brown said softly. "No, they won't."
He pulled the phone from his ear to look at it more closely. Was this thing working right, because he could have sworn she just said that the PRT would be keeping capes.
"Strictly speaking, neither the mages she finds nor the demi-humans they create are parahumans, even if they have powers," she continued, almost as if she could read his mind. "They also do not have the same… let us call it the psychological framework most parahumans have. Integrating such a large and different group would cause friction, and removing your agents from the PRT would strain the relationship between the two organizations. And…"
"And?" he prompted when she did trailed off.
"And it may be time to advance the time table. The PRT and the Protectorate were never intended to remain separate organizations. Once parahuman law enforcement became accepted, even normal, the plan was always to merge the Protectorate into the wider PRT. The Endbringers and S-class villains substantially delayed that plan, but it was not abandoned, merely indefinitely postponed till a better time. Perhaps now is that time.
"Regardless, I presume you are willing to use your city as the test case for this program?"
'Willing' might be a bit of a stretch, but he would admit to curiosity. Worst case scenario, nothing happened and they all would look like fools. Anything better than that offered a potential benefit. "What timeframe are we looking at?"
Friday, July 15
"How are they doing with the new dogs?" Phil asked as he and Bob Samuels, his head of field operations, walked down one of the halls towards one of the conference rooms. This was the time period he was most worried about now that he had thirty were-dogs running around. He had no doubt that any issues between mage and dog could be smoothed out, but to do so they had to catch those issues while they were still minor annoyances so they would not become true grievances.
Bob shook his head. "No major issues. A few with family have commented on some reluctance from their spouses to have a dog in the house, but the fact that they are all 'house-broken' and well-behaved is already working to alleviate those concerns."
"The benefit of your pet actually understanding everything you say to it, I suppose," he muttered. "And the special team?"
"Waiting for you."
He pushed open the door and stopped to stare. The four active field agents of the group talking among themselves, he can understand. Maybe even Greg Weis, the lone analyst who was among their number, showing dog videos to Eric White, an administrator. But a collie-mix and some undetermined mutt wrestling for a thick piece of rope by the whiteboard while a haughty wolfhound looked on in obvious disdain? The corgi wriggling in pleasure on White's lap while he scratched her belly? These were things he supposed he should have predicted, but they were still nothing he had ever seen in a PRT meeting room.
White looked over and shot Paulson a boyish smile. "Finally made it over here, boss?"
"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he called out, cutting through the low chatter. "Beasts, return to human form and join your people. Thank you."
He walked to the head of the table, lightly kicking the forgotten rope out of the way, and looked at the assembled team. Six mages. Four adults with dog ears and tails, joined by a teenaged girl and a twelve-year-old boy. It was hard to believe they might be the group who would be front and center in the attempt to curtail all major parahuman gang activity in Philadelphia. "Good afternoon. I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you here, so I will be brief. The six of you are the ones Calamity Witch reported as having 'B-ranked' magic or superior. Samuels and I are going to try making a special operations team out of you, a group that can move against the gangs and lone villainous capes in ways the Protectorate's customs and rules of engagement do not make easy. For some of you, this will put you out of your comfort zone," he added with a nod of his head to Weis, "and if it does not work out, we can talk about reorganizing the team. Right now, however, I think we will need all of you to get a foot in the door."
Fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table drew his eyes to Tanya Abigail. "What is so special about this ranking? I remember Calamity Witch mentioned it, but I don't see why it matters in the long run."
Paulson cracked a faint smile. Instead of directly answering her question, he turned to Weis. "How many flying capes are in this city as of last count?"
"I believe it was seven."
"Correct. Seven. Of them, three are independent heroes and therefore irrelevant to this conversation. Four are villains, and none are part of any gang as far as we know." His smile grew wider when he looked back at Abigail. "Something Calamity Witch said stuck out to me. B-rank is the threshold at which you have the potential for teleportation and flight."
"You can take a man out of the Air Force, but you can't take the flyboy out of the man," White said in a stage whisper, earning a few grins and a few rolling eyes.
A stern look had the administrator quieting down, and Paulson continued, "Even if these villains chose to fight together from the outset, you would outnumber them three to one. As it is, the more likely scenario is that you will be able to capture at least two of them before they suspect anything is wrong, hopefully even all of them. Without them, the PRT – or at least the forces of good – will have uncontested air dominance over the gangs."
He let that concept sink into the team for a minute. The PRT and Protectorate, not just in Philadelphia but everywhere, was outmanned and outgunned. It had been that way practically since parahumans had started popping up in more than ones and twos. Always they had been on the back foot, but now? Now they and the independent heroes would be the only people in the skies. There would be nowhere for criminals to hide where they could not be seen or fired upon from on high.
"I thought Calamity Witch said we need specialized tools for that," Abigail pointed out.
"We can do that." Everyone's eyes turned to the girl sitting next to Weis, and she wilted slightly before pushing herself to continue. "The other Gears and I have been working on the small-scale power plant Shipwright came by to help us build and well as our own tools, but we have a nice little factory set up now in the car maintenance bay. We can start working on Devices whenever you want."
"How long are we talking?" asked Paulson. "For these Devices as well as whatever else is needed to arm this team?"
The dog-girl traced numbers on the table. "A week for the Devices. They'd be our top priority. Other weapons, it would depend on how many we need to build, but maybe three or four days?"
"So ten days of prep—"
"No sir." He looked back at the Tinker dog, who was shaking her head. "It'd only be the week. Don't forget there are sixteen of us. Anyone who isn't on Device duty could build the weapons."
He shrugged mentally. He was not sure how much effort was needed for either of them, but the fact that it would take less time than he had expected was a bonus. "Very well. While your group is working on that, the rest of you are going to set up a crash course on team tactics. Several of you are active field agents," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head towards those he meant, "but Mr. Weis is an analyst, Mr. White hasn't been in the field for some time"—a resigned nod from White agreed with that statement—"and your partners were literally born two days ago. They will need help getting up to speed.
"Once that is finished and you have your Devices, you will start working on how to use them and getting comfortable with flight. Then the fun can begin.
"I'm not going to sugar-coat this for you, people. The Chief Director and Legend are using us as the trial run for this program. Our successes and failures will determine whether it will be used in other branches, and ultimately how well we do could change how the entire PRT operates." He looked over the group. "But even more important than that, we can make an incredible difference in our city and for its citizens."
"With a speech like that, how could any of us get away with saying no," muttered someone.
White waved a hand in the general direction of the disparaging comment. "Nonsense! This is an opportunity none of us ever imagined we would have, and I for one welcome it." Next to him, his dog-woman nodded sharply. "But first! We need a name for this plan and this team."
"This is supposed to be a covert operation…" He trailed off when the other man's face fell, and Paulson sighed. "But I suppose we could use a name for internal reference if nothing else."
"Excellent. I already have an idea." White walked over the board and started writing. When he was done, he set the marker down and stepped back inordinately proud of himself.
Paulson looked at it and stared hard in White's direction. It was at times like this that it was hard to remember that White was the oldest out of everyone assembled here and a retired Marine to boot. "Any objections?" he asked, looking over the table. No one raised their hands, leaving him no choice but to sigh in resignation. "Very well. I suppose that's what we will use. You have your assignments. Let's get started, Operation Pentagram."
I have entirely too much fun sometimes.
Saturday, July 9
The phone ringing in his pocket was swiftly silenced, and Phil Paulson took a deep, slow breath in and out through his nose. His granddaughter had not noticed, too deep in her recitation of Debussy's Clair de Lune to pay attention to anything else, but several people nearby had turned their gazes from the piano on stage to glare at him. A short glance told him it was a call he had no choice but to take.
"Sorry. Work," he told his daughter, who sighed in resignation and shifted so he could slip past her.
Only once he was outside in the lobby of the auditorium did he flip the phone open. "This had better be an emergency." He made it clear on his schedule what times, few as they were, that he was not to be called for all but the most dire of circumstances.
"I'm sorry, Director," the woman operating the switchboard said, "but it's the Chief Director on the line, and she doesn't like being told to wait."
Another breath, though this one ended in a sigh. He did not dislike Costa-Brown, but on days like today he could not help but think her sense of timing could really use some work. "Put her through."
The quality of the silence on the other end changed, and immediately a familiar voice spoke. "My apologies for interrupting your Saturday, Director Paulson, but I need to speak with you with some urgency."
"It's that time sensitive?" Nothing that needed to be handled this hastily and also involved the Chief Director of the PRT could be a good thing. Normally it heralded an S-class event. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the notepad he always carried and double-checked to make sure that no, they were not yet in the projected time range for the next Endbringer attack.
"Not in the manner you are thinking. It is more because of an offer that fell in our laps recently that we would prefer to move on before we run the risk of it being rescinded." There is a moment's pause before Costa-Brown continues. "We – by which I mean Legend and myself – would like the Philadelphia branch to help us prove that magic is real."
He blinked. "You want… I'm sorry, could you run that by me again?"
"You heard that correctly, Phillip," she said with obvious amusement. "What do you know about Calamity Witch? She's an independent hero in your city."
"I know of her. She's been involved in some of the major operations in the city the last few months, saved one of our Wards when they were attacked by Cadejo. That's about it."
"She gave us a demonstration last week, and we looked at some of the data Dragon provided us about her. She is definitively not a parahuman." That caught his attention. "Her powers reportedly come from a natural ability to tap into a previously unknown energy field and manipulate that energy for a variety of effects. Not only is it not parahuman in nature, it is also a learnable skill should someone have the inherent potential. She says she has taught other people how to do so already."
Phil rubbed his chin, thinking through everything she had told him. Costa-Brown had a tendency to give out just enough information for people to figure out what she was really saying, but little enough that it was never obvious. It was an odd quirk of hers that he had heard a few people attribute to a need to be the smartest person in the room, although he had never thought that himself. Personally, he thought it came from the same place as her distaste of small talk, the desire never to waste words. "You want to find people with that same ability in the PRT. I suppose it's because she's local or we are a relatively small branch."
"Correct on both counts. The small size of the branch makes it the perfect choice for an ambitious pilot program like this one. While we know it can be taught, we do not know how quick or effective such instruction is."
"This still sounds"—insane—"unconventional, to put it lightly. What do you plan for her to teach in the first place? Pulling rabbits out of hats?" he laughed.
"She offered to teach your agents how to transform animals into fully sapient demi-humans with high-rated powers of their own."
"…What?" he asked after a very long pause. "That's possible?"
A soft sound came from the other end of the line. Was Costa-Brown laughing at him? "Calamity Witch claims her companion, who we assumed was a Case-53, was created in just such a matter."
"If that's true, it would completely change the balance of power. Even a small number of capes would weigh the scales in our favor—" He cut himself off as a thought came to mind. This magic, if it even existed, would create new capes. "It would not be in the PRT's favor, would it? Not strictly speaking. They and the magicians or whatever how created them would all be moved to the Protectorate."
That stung. He did not begrudge the Protectorate their existence, nor did he have an issue with any of the heroes in Philadelphia the way a minority of branch directors did. Chevalier, for instance, was the kind of person he would have happily had as his deputy were his powers not an issue. Just because he did not dislike the members of the Protectorate did not mean he had to be happy about how they were eclipsing the PRT more and more every year.
He was one of the old breed. He knew it. He could still remember a time when the role of the PRT was not just cleaning up after a fight between capes and hauling arrested criminals to prison, but when they actually took the fight to the villains on the front lines. And now, not only was the PRT steadily losing purpose, it was even going to lose members.
"No," Costa-Brown said softly. "No, they won't."
He pulled the phone from his ear to look at it more closely. Was this thing working right, because he could have sworn she just said that the PRT would be keeping capes.
"Strictly speaking, neither the mages she finds nor the demi-humans they create are parahumans, even if they have powers," she continued, almost as if she could read his mind. "They also do not have the same… let us call it the psychological framework most parahumans have. Integrating such a large and different group would cause friction, and removing your agents from the PRT would strain the relationship between the two organizations. And…"
"And?" he prompted when she did trailed off.
"And it may be time to advance the time table. The PRT and the Protectorate were never intended to remain separate organizations. Once parahuman law enforcement became accepted, even normal, the plan was always to merge the Protectorate into the wider PRT. The Endbringers and S-class villains substantially delayed that plan, but it was not abandoned, merely indefinitely postponed till a better time. Perhaps now is that time.
"Regardless, I presume you are willing to use your city as the test case for this program?"
'Willing' might be a bit of a stretch, but he would admit to curiosity. Worst case scenario, nothing happened and they all would look like fools. Anything better than that offered a potential benefit. "What timeframe are we looking at?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Friday, July 15
"How are they doing with the new dogs?" Phil asked as he and Bob Samuels, his head of field operations, walked down one of the halls towards one of the conference rooms. This was the time period he was most worried about now that he had thirty were-dogs running around. He had no doubt that any issues between mage and dog could be smoothed out, but to do so they had to catch those issues while they were still minor annoyances so they would not become true grievances.
Bob shook his head. "No major issues. A few with family have commented on some reluctance from their spouses to have a dog in the house, but the fact that they are all 'house-broken' and well-behaved is already working to alleviate those concerns."
"The benefit of your pet actually understanding everything you say to it, I suppose," he muttered. "And the special team?"
"Waiting for you."
He pushed open the door and stopped to stare. The four active field agents of the group talking among themselves, he can understand. Maybe even Greg Weis, the lone analyst who was among their number, showing dog videos to Eric White, an administrator. But a collie-mix and some undetermined mutt wrestling for a thick piece of rope by the whiteboard while a haughty wolfhound looked on in obvious disdain? The corgi wriggling in pleasure on White's lap while he scratched her belly? These were things he supposed he should have predicted, but they were still nothing he had ever seen in a PRT meeting room.
White looked over and shot Paulson a boyish smile. "Finally made it over here, boss?"
"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he called out, cutting through the low chatter. "Beasts, return to human form and join your people. Thank you."
He walked to the head of the table, lightly kicking the forgotten rope out of the way, and looked at the assembled team. Six mages. Four adults with dog ears and tails, joined by a teenaged girl and a twelve-year-old boy. It was hard to believe they might be the group who would be front and center in the attempt to curtail all major parahuman gang activity in Philadelphia. "Good afternoon. I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you here, so I will be brief. The six of you are the ones Calamity Witch reported as having 'B-ranked' magic or superior. Samuels and I are going to try making a special operations team out of you, a group that can move against the gangs and lone villainous capes in ways the Protectorate's customs and rules of engagement do not make easy. For some of you, this will put you out of your comfort zone," he added with a nod of his head to Weis, "and if it does not work out, we can talk about reorganizing the team. Right now, however, I think we will need all of you to get a foot in the door."
Fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table drew his eyes to Tanya Abigail. "What is so special about this ranking? I remember Calamity Witch mentioned it, but I don't see why it matters in the long run."
Paulson cracked a faint smile. Instead of directly answering her question, he turned to Weis. "How many flying capes are in this city as of last count?"
"I believe it was seven."
"Correct. Seven. Of them, three are independent heroes and therefore irrelevant to this conversation. Four are villains, and none are part of any gang as far as we know." His smile grew wider when he looked back at Abigail. "Something Calamity Witch said stuck out to me. B-rank is the threshold at which you have the potential for teleportation and flight."
"You can take a man out of the Air Force, but you can't take the flyboy out of the man," White said in a stage whisper, earning a few grins and a few rolling eyes.
A stern look had the administrator quieting down, and Paulson continued, "Even if these villains chose to fight together from the outset, you would outnumber them three to one. As it is, the more likely scenario is that you will be able to capture at least two of them before they suspect anything is wrong, hopefully even all of them. Without them, the PRT – or at least the forces of good – will have uncontested air dominance over the gangs."
He let that concept sink into the team for a minute. The PRT and Protectorate, not just in Philadelphia but everywhere, was outmanned and outgunned. It had been that way practically since parahumans had started popping up in more than ones and twos. Always they had been on the back foot, but now? Now they and the independent heroes would be the only people in the skies. There would be nowhere for criminals to hide where they could not be seen or fired upon from on high.
"I thought Calamity Witch said we need specialized tools for that," Abigail pointed out.
"We can do that." Everyone's eyes turned to the girl sitting next to Weis, and she wilted slightly before pushing herself to continue. "The other Gears and I have been working on the small-scale power plant Shipwright came by to help us build and well as our own tools, but we have a nice little factory set up now in the car maintenance bay. We can start working on Devices whenever you want."
"How long are we talking?" asked Paulson. "For these Devices as well as whatever else is needed to arm this team?"
The dog-girl traced numbers on the table. "A week for the Devices. They'd be our top priority. Other weapons, it would depend on how many we need to build, but maybe three or four days?"
"So ten days of prep—"
"No sir." He looked back at the Tinker dog, who was shaking her head. "It'd only be the week. Don't forget there are sixteen of us. Anyone who isn't on Device duty could build the weapons."
He shrugged mentally. He was not sure how much effort was needed for either of them, but the fact that it would take less time than he had expected was a bonus. "Very well. While your group is working on that, the rest of you are going to set up a crash course on team tactics. Several of you are active field agents," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head towards those he meant, "but Mr. Weis is an analyst, Mr. White hasn't been in the field for some time"—a resigned nod from White agreed with that statement—"and your partners were literally born two days ago. They will need help getting up to speed.
"Once that is finished and you have your Devices, you will start working on how to use them and getting comfortable with flight. Then the fun can begin.
"I'm not going to sugar-coat this for you, people. The Chief Director and Legend are using us as the trial run for this program. Our successes and failures will determine whether it will be used in other branches, and ultimately how well we do could change how the entire PRT operates." He looked over the group. "But even more important than that, we can make an incredible difference in our city and for its citizens."
"With a speech like that, how could any of us get away with saying no," muttered someone.
White waved a hand in the general direction of the disparaging comment. "Nonsense! This is an opportunity none of us ever imagined we would have, and I for one welcome it." Next to him, his dog-woman nodded sharply. "But first! We need a name for this plan and this team."
"This is supposed to be a covert operation…" He trailed off when the other man's face fell, and Paulson sighed. "But I suppose we could use a name for internal reference if nothing else."
"Excellent. I already have an idea." White walked over the board and started writing. When he was done, he set the marker down and stepped back inordinately proud of himself.
Paulson looked at it and stared hard in White's direction. It was at times like this that it was hard to remember that White was the oldest out of everyone assembled here and a retired Marine to boot. "Any objections?" he asked, looking over the table. No one raised their hands, leaving him no choice but to sigh in resignation. "Very well. I suppose that's what we will use. You have your assignments. Let's get started, Operation Pentagram."
I have entirely too much fun sometimes.
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Kellcat
Occasional Ex-Lurker
- Location
- Texas
This...is hopefully not indicative of a "pets"/"things" mindset at the PRT, but this and a few other quotes make me...twitchy on that account.
- Location
- Georgia
I really wish one of those social actions with Cailleach happened in time to warn her what's coming. Then again, there's time getting comfortable with their devices and learning to work together. I wonder, too, what spells they can get on their devices. We only know a small number of spells that are explicitly not available.
It's been two days. Give them a little time to get used to the idea that they are both dogs and people.
It's been two days. Give them a little time to get used to the idea that they are both dogs and people.
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Also important note that as they actually ARE dogs, the statements and expected behaviors aren't too far away.
dhasenan
always lowercase
- Pronouns
- She/Her
What's more, they're good dogs, Bront.