No good deed... (Worm AU)
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Prologue arc - 0.1
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
Because of the advice of @JamesBCrazy this fic has its own thread now 
Word of warning, tone of this fic is gonna be dark, at the start, its probably gonna be darker than canon Worm before I let things start to get better. There will be butterflies and a rather swift canon divergence, so if you're looking for the stages of canon (Lung, Bank, Coil) etc. It's probably not gonna happen. This will go off the rails right quick.
Also, SV and SB tend to eat my formatting, if anyone has any tips to get around this, it would be much appreciated.
So, that having been said...
Enjoy
(X)(X)(X)
December 23 2010,
11:37 PM:
Director Emily Piggot rarely liked her job.
It was harsh, every day was a struggle, a crisis that had to be avoided, a problem that had to be solved.
And it was a fight she was losing day by day by day. By inches really.
They couldn't turn back the gangs, couldn't move out in force for big, huge arrests, couldn't break up the drug smuggling rings, couldn't patrol regularly throughout the city. They couldn't even break up a goddamn dog-fighting business because it was being run and monitored by thrice damned Hookwolf!
All they could do, was what little they could.
And what little they could was never enough.
Right here, in her office, was the source of her current headache...or at least...partially. The root cause of a problem that had blown up entirely out of goddamn proportion.
Sophia fidgeted in her place. "You gonna say anything?"
Piggot offered a thousand yard stare in response, all but glaring at the girl clear across the table.
She wasn't irritated. She was pissed. So pissed she'd gone clear past anger and blind rage to go full circle into something resembling coherent, clear thought.
She was honestly one wrong word away from sending the girl to juvenile and probably looking to charge her with any and all crimes she could successfully throw the book at her with.
The only thing – the ONLY thing – that was stopping her was that Sophia actually looked... more than contrite... she looked... like she was feeling genuine regret.
That, more than anything, more than the fact that this wasn't even a result or an event, at all within her control, is what stayed her hand.
"Get the hell out of my sight." She bit out. Forcing the words past her tightly locked jaw.
Sophia didn't sneer, didn't protest, or roll her eyes. Didn't even offer a sigh. She just stood up and walked out the door.
Piggot turned her eyes back onto the screen, the live broadcast had long since been ended, leaving her with the various cameras of PRT agents to cycle through as they looked over the crime scene.
She flipped through the available feeds, finding the pale corpse of Brandon Meadows, AKA. Hookwolf shortly before it was zipped up into a body bag for transport.
She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
…
She looked to her watch.
Twenty minutes and it'd be Christmas eve.
…
It was rare to say that she liked this job.
Today, she downright hated it.
(X)(X)(X)
Sophia stalked through the halls of the Protectorate headquarter's like a wraith, quiet and quick. She was hardly seen. She didn't want to be seen. Not by the agents, the help, especially not by her thrice damned fucking teammates!
She needed to be alone. She needed time to fucking think. To... to process this.
Guilt was an emotion she rarely felt in her life anymore. A predator didn't feel guilty. Didn't think about what happened to the sheep around them. Frankly, they were beneath her notice and unworthy of her guilt.
…
…
But here it was. In all its fucking glory.
Who the hell ever would have guessed it'd be happening because of fucking Hebert?
"Sophia?"
She tensed.
When she brought her eyes up it was to find Dean, helmet off, even with his costume on.
What she saw in his eyes...it was enough to make her rage boil over, consuming her every, morose thought.
"You oka-"
"I don't need your fucking pity asshole!" She snarled, nearly shoving him with her shoulder as she brushed past him. "It pissed me off a week ago and its pissing me off now!"
"Its not-" Gallant sighed, calling after her. "We're teammates Sophia. Believe it or not, looking out for eachother is part of the job!"
"Fuck off!"
She rounded the corner, not even bothering to listen to his call of her name before she made her way to the elevator.
…
Fuck.
Fuck!
She'd screwed up before but...
Damnit...
Goddamnit!
(X)(X)(X)
Armsmaster's lips were thin as he perused the crime scene. The scene was gruesome, covered with blood from Hookwolf's single victim.
Hookwolf himself, Brandon Meadows, lay dead along with a half dozen E-88 non-powered members. No wounds on their bodies, no signs that they'd even been attacked they were just...dead. Puppets with their strings cut.
He watched as the camera, the thrice damned camera was finally bagged and tagged. All the wires pulled free were similarly bagged.
Unsanctioned or not, the E-88 had gone too goddamn far tonight. He would push for a full response from the protectorate. Given the public outrage that would be hitting the streets when people started waking up in a few hours, he had little doubt Piggot would be forced to say yes, like it or not.
Too late for the victim though.
Armsmaster looked at the blood drenched opposite wall of the room, where a figure sat slumped on a chair. Hands tied, skin a litany of small cuts and deep gouges, dark hair matted with red, glasses broken, the fingers of the right hand had been crushed...
Armsmaster took a breath.
Ultimately, the fact was that this could all be rightfully laid at his feet.
He should have done more. Paid more attention.
Maybe then all this could have been avoided. Maybe then seven people wouldn't be dead.
Maybe then, a fifteen year old girl wouldn't have a body count...justified or otherwise.
His communicator flared to life. With a blink-click of his helmet's interface he answered. "Armsmaster"
"This is Militia. We're at the Hebert household."
"Any sign of her."
"None" He heard her sigh.
"Keep looking." He ordered. "You leave agents there if you have to but you keep looking. I'll join the search as soon as we're done here."
"Understood."
Armsmaster paused, considering before he spoke again. "Militia. You might, justifiably, feel empathy for Miss Hebert. But she may also not be in full control of her powers. If you don't feel secure in apprehending her, use containment foam. This night will be made unbelievably worse if she were to unwittingly kill you as well."
For a time, Militia didn't respond and Armsmaster was about to speak up when the woman finally chose to answer. "Yeah. Yeah I hear ya. I'll try to bring her in a little gentler but if it doesn't work...then yeah."
He nodded, just about ready to reply when a high priority alert came in through another line.
Assault.
He blink clicked and accepted the call. "Armsmaster here"
"I got her! I found Hebert!"
Without another moment's hesitation he turned and marched out of the room, climbing the stairs to reach the street.
"I'm on my way! Approach with caution if you feel you shouldn't wait."
"I'm going in."
He looked to the bracer, changing through the map display. "I'm three minutes away."
"She's standing at the ledge of a ten story building..."
He froze.
"Yeah." Assault drawled. "I ain't waiting."
…
…
"Do whatever you have to." He ordered mounting his bike and dumping the rear utility compartments with a bang of steel hitting concrete. He wanted the extra acceleration and speed. According to his calculations it would cut his time down by twenty-seven seconds.
Everything this night could be laid at his feet.
He wasn't going to let it get worse.
Word of warning, tone of this fic is gonna be dark, at the start, its probably gonna be darker than canon Worm before I let things start to get better. There will be butterflies and a rather swift canon divergence, so if you're looking for the stages of canon (Lung, Bank, Coil) etc. It's probably not gonna happen. This will go off the rails right quick.
Also, SV and SB tend to eat my formatting, if anyone has any tips to get around this, it would be much appreciated.
So, that having been said...
Enjoy
(X)(X)(X)
December 23 2010,
11:37 PM:
Director Emily Piggot rarely liked her job.
It was harsh, every day was a struggle, a crisis that had to be avoided, a problem that had to be solved.
And it was a fight she was losing day by day by day. By inches really.
They couldn't turn back the gangs, couldn't move out in force for big, huge arrests, couldn't break up the drug smuggling rings, couldn't patrol regularly throughout the city. They couldn't even break up a goddamn dog-fighting business because it was being run and monitored by thrice damned Hookwolf!
All they could do, was what little they could.
And what little they could was never enough.
Right here, in her office, was the source of her current headache...or at least...partially. The root cause of a problem that had blown up entirely out of goddamn proportion.
Sophia fidgeted in her place. "You gonna say anything?"
Piggot offered a thousand yard stare in response, all but glaring at the girl clear across the table.
She wasn't irritated. She was pissed. So pissed she'd gone clear past anger and blind rage to go full circle into something resembling coherent, clear thought.
She was honestly one wrong word away from sending the girl to juvenile and probably looking to charge her with any and all crimes she could successfully throw the book at her with.
The only thing – the ONLY thing – that was stopping her was that Sophia actually looked... more than contrite... she looked... like she was feeling genuine regret.
That, more than anything, more than the fact that this wasn't even a result or an event, at all within her control, is what stayed her hand.
"Get the hell out of my sight." She bit out. Forcing the words past her tightly locked jaw.
Sophia didn't sneer, didn't protest, or roll her eyes. Didn't even offer a sigh. She just stood up and walked out the door.
Piggot turned her eyes back onto the screen, the live broadcast had long since been ended, leaving her with the various cameras of PRT agents to cycle through as they looked over the crime scene.
She flipped through the available feeds, finding the pale corpse of Brandon Meadows, AKA. Hookwolf shortly before it was zipped up into a body bag for transport.
She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
…
She looked to her watch.
Twenty minutes and it'd be Christmas eve.
…
It was rare to say that she liked this job.
Today, she downright hated it.
(X)(X)(X)
Sophia stalked through the halls of the Protectorate headquarter's like a wraith, quiet and quick. She was hardly seen. She didn't want to be seen. Not by the agents, the help, especially not by her thrice damned fucking teammates!
She needed to be alone. She needed time to fucking think. To... to process this.
Guilt was an emotion she rarely felt in her life anymore. A predator didn't feel guilty. Didn't think about what happened to the sheep around them. Frankly, they were beneath her notice and unworthy of her guilt.
…
…
But here it was. In all its fucking glory.
Who the hell ever would have guessed it'd be happening because of fucking Hebert?
"Sophia?"
She tensed.
When she brought her eyes up it was to find Dean, helmet off, even with his costume on.
What she saw in his eyes...it was enough to make her rage boil over, consuming her every, morose thought.
"You oka-"
"I don't need your fucking pity asshole!" She snarled, nearly shoving him with her shoulder as she brushed past him. "It pissed me off a week ago and its pissing me off now!"
"Its not-" Gallant sighed, calling after her. "We're teammates Sophia. Believe it or not, looking out for eachother is part of the job!"
"Fuck off!"
She rounded the corner, not even bothering to listen to his call of her name before she made her way to the elevator.
…
Fuck.
Fuck!
She'd screwed up before but...
Damnit...
Goddamnit!
(X)(X)(X)
Armsmaster's lips were thin as he perused the crime scene. The scene was gruesome, covered with blood from Hookwolf's single victim.
Hookwolf himself, Brandon Meadows, lay dead along with a half dozen E-88 non-powered members. No wounds on their bodies, no signs that they'd even been attacked they were just...dead. Puppets with their strings cut.
He watched as the camera, the thrice damned camera was finally bagged and tagged. All the wires pulled free were similarly bagged.
Unsanctioned or not, the E-88 had gone too goddamn far tonight. He would push for a full response from the protectorate. Given the public outrage that would be hitting the streets when people started waking up in a few hours, he had little doubt Piggot would be forced to say yes, like it or not.
Too late for the victim though.
Armsmaster looked at the blood drenched opposite wall of the room, where a figure sat slumped on a chair. Hands tied, skin a litany of small cuts and deep gouges, dark hair matted with red, glasses broken, the fingers of the right hand had been crushed...
Armsmaster took a breath.
Ultimately, the fact was that this could all be rightfully laid at his feet.
He should have done more. Paid more attention.
Maybe then all this could have been avoided. Maybe then seven people wouldn't be dead.
Maybe then, a fifteen year old girl wouldn't have a body count...justified or otherwise.
His communicator flared to life. With a blink-click of his helmet's interface he answered. "Armsmaster"
"This is Militia. We're at the Hebert household."
"Any sign of her."
"None" He heard her sigh.
"Keep looking." He ordered. "You leave agents there if you have to but you keep looking. I'll join the search as soon as we're done here."
"Understood."
Armsmaster paused, considering before he spoke again. "Militia. You might, justifiably, feel empathy for Miss Hebert. But she may also not be in full control of her powers. If you don't feel secure in apprehending her, use containment foam. This night will be made unbelievably worse if she were to unwittingly kill you as well."
For a time, Militia didn't respond and Armsmaster was about to speak up when the woman finally chose to answer. "Yeah. Yeah I hear ya. I'll try to bring her in a little gentler but if it doesn't work...then yeah."
He nodded, just about ready to reply when a high priority alert came in through another line.
Assault.
He blink clicked and accepted the call. "Armsmaster here"
"I got her! I found Hebert!"
Without another moment's hesitation he turned and marched out of the room, climbing the stairs to reach the street.
"I'm on my way! Approach with caution if you feel you shouldn't wait."
"I'm going in."
He looked to the bracer, changing through the map display. "I'm three minutes away."
"She's standing at the ledge of a ten story building..."
He froze.
"Yeah." Assault drawled. "I ain't waiting."
…
…
"Do whatever you have to." He ordered mounting his bike and dumping the rear utility compartments with a bang of steel hitting concrete. He wanted the extra acceleration and speed. According to his calculations it would cut his time down by twenty-seven seconds.
Everything this night could be laid at his feet.
He wasn't going to let it get worse.
0.2
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
December 24th, 2010,
12:02 AM:
Ethan Meyer's, also known as Assault, swallowed the stairs three at a time, all but jumping to try and climb them as fast as possible and get to the roof, praying to god that he wouldn't be too late, that he wouldn't hear the thud of a body hitting the ground outside.
God... that would be about the only thing that could possibly make this night at all worse.
When he reached the roof, it took a supreme force of will to not immediately bust down the door with his shoulder in his rush, but actually stop take a breath and open it as gently as possible so as not to startle her.
It opened with a squeal of rusted hinges, the cold December air hitting him in the face. Ethan looked around, getting his bearings before he finally turned where he'd seen Miss Hebert from the street.
He half ran, half jogged forward.
He took a breath...and froze.
He wasn't a negotiator, he didn't have any experience in this.
Does he yell for her from over here, to not startle her? Go in close before announcing himself so he could potentially grab her should she try to jump? Does he speak at all? Just try to grab her?
…
He doesn't know what to do...
He swallows trying to moisten a suddenly all too dry throat.
Close... get in close. That way if he screws up he can at least grab her. Jump with her even. His power will protect him from the fall.
He walks forward, feeling the gravel of the roofing crunching under his boots, trying to be as quiet as possible.
What little sound he makes...he's certain is obscured.
She's crying too loudly to hear him.
He gets himself onto the raised ledge, peering over it to find her.
She's there...
Just out of arms reach, sitting with her knees to her chest, her heaving sobs shaking her whole body.
Her hair was matted to her scalp with blood; the clothes she was wearing were nearly in tatters, leaving her shivering in the near freezing cold.
He swallowed, kneeling at the edge of the roof.
"Taylor?"
She jumped, actually jumped on the ledge of a roof, and began to crawl away from him, heels and palms scraping on the concrete of the ledge.
His heart leapt into his throat, too far away for him to catch if she fell from her precarious perch.
"Woah woah woah." He called. "Hey..Hey...Its ok. Its ok. Its just me. You recognize me yeah? Assault. Protectorate. I'm not here to hurt you. Its all ok kiddo."
"Get away...get away." She sobbed, shaking her head as the balls of her palms pressed against her eyes.
"Okay! Okay." He assured, shuffling back. "Look. See? Nothing to worry about"
She folded in on herself, a pitiful whine escaping her throat as her cries renewed.
"Taylor- hun come on off the roof. We know what happened. And I can guarantee you that you're not in any trouble at all. Just...come off the edge and we can talk ok?"
"Its all my fault..." She cried. "Its all my fault"
"There are a lot of people that can be blamed for what happened tonight." He assured, hearing the sound of Armsmaster's bike approaching, equal parts relieved and aprehensive at the thought of his socially innept, but very well prepared and experienced boss getting here to try and help. "But you're not one of them Taylor."
He looked around, finally bringing his eyes back to her. "Taylor, I'm gonna move to sit down okay? Its a little uncomfortable laying here like this." He tried to laugh. Needless to say it emerged rather flat, not even bringing out the mildest chuckle from the young teenager. "Is that ok sweetheart?"
It took a second, but with a jerky nod he was fairly certain she gave him permission
He shifted his place...taking a seat on the ledge, legs positioned in such a way as to push him straight off the ledge. Pulling one of the two tinker-tech kinetic grenades from his belt and thumbing the pin behind him so he could give himself that extra boost of speed if she decided to roll to the side and fall to her death.
He took a breath.
Now what?
The hell should he say?
All the movies always had hostage negotiators, never people trying to talk people down from the ledges of buildings and if they did it always ended in some dramatic fashion where they jumped onto a trampoline or tackled the suicide guy back into the building.
…
Shit... What the hell do you say to a girl who just had her whole life shattered less than an hour ago to try and make it better?
His mouth opened and closed.
Finally, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"My name's Ethan."
She stiffened.
"I figured I know your name. It'd only be fair that you know mine too huh?
She hugged herself, keeping her eyes to the ground.
Assault tilted his head down a little, trying to see her. "Can ya look at me kiddo?"
She shook her head.
"Please?" He tried again.
"I can't." She shouted and he almost jumped, wincing as he was certain he'd screwed up by pushing her!
"I was able to kill them when I looked at them. I'm not sure if I could stop it from killing you."
"Oh." He said lamely. "I-...Thanks for that then."
He looked at her, and, realizing then that all the blood on her clothes might not just be other peoples, he decided to ask the question he should have started with from the word go.
"Do you have any injuries."
"No."
He heard the screech of tires, looking down the road towards Armsmaster's bike. Any faster and the man would start gaining altitude.
"Taylor." He said, looking at the girl. "Armsmasters here. He might come up. Is it ok if I open the comms to tell him not to look into your eyes sweetie?"
She nodded. "Okay."
Good. This might make things easier.
He pressed a finger to his ear. "Armsmaster"
"Assault, what is the status of Ms. Hebert?"
"She's here with me. She's..." He paused, looking to the girl. "Calm. Be advised, Ms. Hebert has confessed that she might not be in full control of her powers at this moment. High lethality potential. Medium is, believed to be, eye contact."
There was silence on the line. "Understood. Assault what experience do you have with suicide situations?"
"Fu-" He stopped himself from barking out the harsh answer of 'Fucking none you stupid son of a bitch!' his nerves almost getting the better of him before he reigned himself in. "Little to none sir."
"Alright, just answer yes or no. Does she seem erratic?"
"No." He said.
"Is she injured?"
"Just asked her." He said, trying to assure her that they weren't saying anything bad behind her back. "She says she's not injured."
"Yes or no Assault. Has she shown any overt signs of hostility?"
"No."
"Alright, I will remain here on ground level in case she jumps I might be able to at least mittigate the damage if you fail. In the meantime, keep your comm open to allow me to listen in. I will try to advise as I am able, I am calling in the PRT and police experts on the subject. I... I'm not sure what you should do in the meanwhile."
"Understood sir..." Assault wanted to try and communicate that he should get Militia on the line, her trigger event had been similarly gruesome, but he didn't want to do anything that would upset Taylor. Too many capes and she might think he was just stalling for backup or something.
He looked to the girl and once more found himself fishing for words.
"Taylor..." He paused.
"Do you...wanna talk about what happened?"
He winced as soon as the words left his mouth watching as the girl curled into a fetal position, whimpering in the freezing cold.
"Its all my fault..." She sobbed. "Its all my fault."
"Its not your fault Tay-"
"It is!" She screamed. "I was the one that got involved! I was the one that saved Shadow Stalker!"
12:02 AM:
Ethan Meyer's, also known as Assault, swallowed the stairs three at a time, all but jumping to try and climb them as fast as possible and get to the roof, praying to god that he wouldn't be too late, that he wouldn't hear the thud of a body hitting the ground outside.
God... that would be about the only thing that could possibly make this night at all worse.
When he reached the roof, it took a supreme force of will to not immediately bust down the door with his shoulder in his rush, but actually stop take a breath and open it as gently as possible so as not to startle her.
It opened with a squeal of rusted hinges, the cold December air hitting him in the face. Ethan looked around, getting his bearings before he finally turned where he'd seen Miss Hebert from the street.
He half ran, half jogged forward.
He took a breath...and froze.
He wasn't a negotiator, he didn't have any experience in this.
Does he yell for her from over here, to not startle her? Go in close before announcing himself so he could potentially grab her should she try to jump? Does he speak at all? Just try to grab her?
…
He doesn't know what to do...
He swallows trying to moisten a suddenly all too dry throat.
Close... get in close. That way if he screws up he can at least grab her. Jump with her even. His power will protect him from the fall.
He walks forward, feeling the gravel of the roofing crunching under his boots, trying to be as quiet as possible.
What little sound he makes...he's certain is obscured.
She's crying too loudly to hear him.
He gets himself onto the raised ledge, peering over it to find her.
She's there...
Just out of arms reach, sitting with her knees to her chest, her heaving sobs shaking her whole body.
Her hair was matted to her scalp with blood; the clothes she was wearing were nearly in tatters, leaving her shivering in the near freezing cold.
He swallowed, kneeling at the edge of the roof.
"Taylor?"
She jumped, actually jumped on the ledge of a roof, and began to crawl away from him, heels and palms scraping on the concrete of the ledge.
His heart leapt into his throat, too far away for him to catch if she fell from her precarious perch.
"Woah woah woah." He called. "Hey..Hey...Its ok. Its ok. Its just me. You recognize me yeah? Assault. Protectorate. I'm not here to hurt you. Its all ok kiddo."
"Get away...get away." She sobbed, shaking her head as the balls of her palms pressed against her eyes.
"Okay! Okay." He assured, shuffling back. "Look. See? Nothing to worry about"
She folded in on herself, a pitiful whine escaping her throat as her cries renewed.
"Taylor- hun come on off the roof. We know what happened. And I can guarantee you that you're not in any trouble at all. Just...come off the edge and we can talk ok?"
"Its all my fault..." She cried. "Its all my fault"
"There are a lot of people that can be blamed for what happened tonight." He assured, hearing the sound of Armsmaster's bike approaching, equal parts relieved and aprehensive at the thought of his socially innept, but very well prepared and experienced boss getting here to try and help. "But you're not one of them Taylor."
He looked around, finally bringing his eyes back to her. "Taylor, I'm gonna move to sit down okay? Its a little uncomfortable laying here like this." He tried to laugh. Needless to say it emerged rather flat, not even bringing out the mildest chuckle from the young teenager. "Is that ok sweetheart?"
It took a second, but with a jerky nod he was fairly certain she gave him permission
He shifted his place...taking a seat on the ledge, legs positioned in such a way as to push him straight off the ledge. Pulling one of the two tinker-tech kinetic grenades from his belt and thumbing the pin behind him so he could give himself that extra boost of speed if she decided to roll to the side and fall to her death.
He took a breath.
Now what?
The hell should he say?
All the movies always had hostage negotiators, never people trying to talk people down from the ledges of buildings and if they did it always ended in some dramatic fashion where they jumped onto a trampoline or tackled the suicide guy back into the building.
…
Shit... What the hell do you say to a girl who just had her whole life shattered less than an hour ago to try and make it better?
His mouth opened and closed.
Finally, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"My name's Ethan."
She stiffened.
"I figured I know your name. It'd only be fair that you know mine too huh?
She hugged herself, keeping her eyes to the ground.
Assault tilted his head down a little, trying to see her. "Can ya look at me kiddo?"
She shook her head.
"Please?" He tried again.
"I can't." She shouted and he almost jumped, wincing as he was certain he'd screwed up by pushing her!
"I was able to kill them when I looked at them. I'm not sure if I could stop it from killing you."
"Oh." He said lamely. "I-...Thanks for that then."
He looked at her, and, realizing then that all the blood on her clothes might not just be other peoples, he decided to ask the question he should have started with from the word go.
"Do you have any injuries."
"No."
He heard the screech of tires, looking down the road towards Armsmaster's bike. Any faster and the man would start gaining altitude.
"Taylor." He said, looking at the girl. "Armsmasters here. He might come up. Is it ok if I open the comms to tell him not to look into your eyes sweetie?"
She nodded. "Okay."
Good. This might make things easier.
He pressed a finger to his ear. "Armsmaster"
"Assault, what is the status of Ms. Hebert?"
"She's here with me. She's..." He paused, looking to the girl. "Calm. Be advised, Ms. Hebert has confessed that she might not be in full control of her powers at this moment. High lethality potential. Medium is, believed to be, eye contact."
There was silence on the line. "Understood. Assault what experience do you have with suicide situations?"
"Fu-" He stopped himself from barking out the harsh answer of 'Fucking none you stupid son of a bitch!' his nerves almost getting the better of him before he reigned himself in. "Little to none sir."
"Alright, just answer yes or no. Does she seem erratic?"
"No." He said.
"Is she injured?"
"Just asked her." He said, trying to assure her that they weren't saying anything bad behind her back. "She says she's not injured."
"Yes or no Assault. Has she shown any overt signs of hostility?"
"No."
"Alright, I will remain here on ground level in case she jumps I might be able to at least mittigate the damage if you fail. In the meantime, keep your comm open to allow me to listen in. I will try to advise as I am able, I am calling in the PRT and police experts on the subject. I... I'm not sure what you should do in the meanwhile."
"Understood sir..." Assault wanted to try and communicate that he should get Militia on the line, her trigger event had been similarly gruesome, but he didn't want to do anything that would upset Taylor. Too many capes and she might think he was just stalling for backup or something.
He looked to the girl and once more found himself fishing for words.
"Taylor..." He paused.
"Do you...wanna talk about what happened?"
He winced as soon as the words left his mouth watching as the girl curled into a fetal position, whimpering in the freezing cold.
"Its all my fault..." She sobbed. "Its all my fault."
"Its not your fault Tay-"
"It is!" She screamed. "I was the one that got involved! I was the one that saved Shadow Stalker!"
Last edited:
0.3
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
December 14th, 2010,
9:19 PM:
The lights of Downtown Brockton Bay gave a ruddy glow to the night. Like...copper. Long shadows snaking through the streets with the bright contrast.
She looked to her phone, her lip curling at the time. All she had was another forty minutes before she had to head back.
Fucking PRT. Fucking scheduling bullshit.
She remembered when she could stay out as long as she wanted and do as much as she wanted. Now she had a fucking caseworker that paid attention to her school attendance and her grades. Now she has to go to sleep so she can make nice with snot nosed kids at the mall in the morning. Fucking waste of time. No wonder this town was going to shit when all the fucking posers did was sign autographs and smile for a stupid camera.
Wasting her fucking days there rather than doing what she was best at.
At least the nights were still hers, for a few hours anyway
As she patrolled her chosen stretch of the woods tonight, it didn't take her long to find them. They always kept to their haunts, their territories and cliques. If they didn't, they thought they'd look weak by backing down from a single vigilante. A Ward now, she supposed.
She never hit the same place too often, too quickly. Often it was randomized, whatever suited her fancy so she didn't fall into a pattern. And attacking all the gangs, be they ABB, E-88 or Merchants, let her stretch out the period between her attacks quite a bit, giving her chosen targets at any given night their sense of security all over again before she hit them.
Tonight was no different.
The skinheads were in their apartment, playing cards. Only two of them had guns, both of which were stuffed into the back of their pants. The stink of weed and cheap beer made her curl her nose where she watched them from the shadow of the hallway that none of them were paying attention to.
She fingered her crossbow, trying not to think about the tranq darts she had instead of proper bolts. E-88 thugs winding up injured with bolts was gonna be too much of a red flag for anyone to miss.
Grue was the exception she was willing to risk her neck for, but these fuckers just weren't worth it, satisfying as it would have been.
She slipped into her shadow state, moving past the wall to check room by room and make sure there were no surprises.
She found a few guns scattered here and there, and used her shadow state to place them between the panels of the walls and leaving them there. She only wanted to make certain no one could go fishing for a gun in the imminent fight to come back and try to shoot her.
After that, and making sure there was no one else in the house, she drew one of the two knives she'd pilfered out of the kitchen at home.
She decided it was time to break up their card game.
When she struck, she struck fast. She was more than a match for any of these losers but there were eight of them and one of the pricks might just get a lucky shot off if they kept getting back up.
One of them barely had time to shout a warning before she materialized right beside his friend, fist already rushing down, knife in hand.
With the wet squelch of steel cutting flesh mixed with the thump of it meeting wood, his hand was suddenly impaled on the table.
He howled.
Then the room was sheer pandemonium.
Her crossbow came up, firing off a bolt that hit a thug right in the forearm. It'd take a few extra seconds to knock him out rather than in the chest, which is what she'd been aiming for, but she decided to just be grateful he hadn't dodged entirely like she would have.
Then her crossbow was battering the face of the thug to her left, cracking him across the jaw with a spurt of blood and busted teeth.
She shifted to her shadow state a second before the guns started firing.
The bullets passed right through her with harmless ease, and as she shifted through the table she transformed back into physical form mid jump, her arm snaking around a thugs neck to bring him down with her full body weight. After sending his skull crashing into the wall and burying it in the dry, cheap plaster, she pulled out her second knife and buried it right in his gut.
He wasn't getting up again any time soon.
She turned, watching as the only other thug with a gun, a piece of shit six shooter was fumbling in his attempts to reload.
She moved to step forward, translating back into her shadow state to take him down hard and then deal with the remaining four skinheads when there was movement directly below and behind her.
And then her whole world bloomed in white hot agony.
Her muscles locked, her teeth snapping shut inside her mouth as her whole body seized up. Her mask hit the corner of the table as she fell, the steel of the mask bouncing off of the wood with a dull clank that sounded loud in her ears as her body hit the floor with a thud, muscles still locked in place.
Her instinct was to shut her eyes tight, but she fought that, kept them open forced herself to keep them open. To look and find out what was happening.
She found it a second later.
The thug. The one she'd shot with the tranq bolt, the one who was getting back up...
New cape? Brute?
"Fucking bitch," he snarled, keeping his finger on the trigger of the taser. "Yeah, learned all about this shit you nigger cunt! Don't like electricity much do ya?" Showing off his arm, Sophia could now see the slightly reflective surface.
A prosthetic...
She'd shot her tranq into a fucking prosthetic!?
"How you like that bitch!?" He laughed. "Taken down by a fucking cripple!"
Around them, the other thugs were gathering themselves, finding their feet again. The five she'd yet to take down moving to help the two she'd wounded.
The one that had been fumbling with his six shooter came back, weapon in hand and pointing it right at her face.
For the first time in a very very long time... Sophia felt a very real chill crawl down her spine.
A hand came down on the weapon arm, shoving it down. "The hell are you doin?"
"Offin this bitch!?" The gunman answered. "The fuck do you think I'm doing?"
"Bein an idiot. Kaiser doesn't like it when you kill capes. Remember that shit with Fleur?"
"She fuckin killed Benny three months ago!" Another of the skin heads roared, she didn't see who.
The cripple shrugged. "I ain't getting on the boss' bad-side. And since I'm the one with the fuckin taser, I'm the one that says what happens."
"Well what are we gonna do? Give her a fuckin fruit basket send her on her way with a "Don't come by here again?"
The cripple looked at her, finger still pressed on the taser's trigger, keeping her muscles locked in an ever mounting and increasing loop of pain.
"Nah. This bitch is dead." he drawled. "We're just not gonna be stupid about it." He looked away. "Crowbars and knives boys. We're not making it quick for her. And for fuck's sake, someone get an extension cord to tie this bitch before I run out of battery!"
(X)(X)(X)
It hurt to breathe.
Everything hurt, but it hurt most to breathe.
Because she'd learned breathing techniques in order to try and alleviate pain. Deep, slow breaths that were supposed to help put it out of her immediate focus, but now only served to bring a whole new level of agony to her aching body.
The fucking cripple had kept his word...it hadn't been quick.
They took their time... fucking enjoyed it.
Took turns with the crowbar in beating her half to death, then the knife in cutting her where it would hurt. The bend of her elbow, behind her knees, the soles of her feet.
She fought.
She fought like she always fought, but with her hands and feet tied, they practically laughed at her.
Laughed...
And as her bones broke and her body began to fail her, the fight literally beaten out of her, that chill that had crawled down her spine crystallized into a very real fear. A very real desperation as she became very much aware of the danger of death for, perhaps, the first time in her life.
And as the pain mounted, as her vision swam and she tasted the copper, metal and bile at the back of a throat that made her whole chest burn with liquid fire with every attempt to swallow; that piece of her, the one that furiously roared at the impossibility of this, of her being captured, threatened, killed by prey became quieter, and quieter.
When the car came to a stop, she was barely coherent. The blood that poured down from her mouth was nearly drowning her in and of itself as it struggled to escape the tight confines of her sealed mask; only allowed to escape when she violently heaved and thrashed with reflexive movements as the blood flooded her airway.
The trunk of the car opened up and the familiar stink of Brockton Bay's docks assaulted her nose.
Sea salt, grime, exhaust fumes and fish.
Asians.
They were gonna kill her and fucking pin it on the Asians.
"Come on. Let's get this shit over with"
She heard the voice, and felt a hand grab onto her hair, hard enough to pull some out from the root. She winced, grimacing. She tried to lift her legs to deliver some kind of kick but a single shift sent jagged spears tearing through her stomach and chest and sapped all the strength from her body in an instant.
The bastard dropped her.
She landed right on her side, the broken ribs shifting in her chest.
The scream she gargled on blood and the pain all but knocked her out completely, leaving her with only the barest vestige of awareness.
When she came to again, her chest was on fire, every muscle felt like a wet noodle. She barely even had the strength to raise her head.
Then the smell of gasoline hit her…
Her eyes snapped open, her heart beginning to go a mile a minute in her chest.
No!
She managed - forced herself - to look up, finding the two skin-heads that had driven her out here not three feet away, an empty, bright red gasoline tank on the ground as they both smoked some cigarettes.
The cripple, because of course it would be him, laughed. "Well nigger bitch, you had a good ride, but the ride's over now." He took a drag of his cigarette and he made a show of preparing to flick it towards, her, her heart dropping into a pit as her throat clogged up with the pain in her chest as she tried to scream.
Then he flicked it to the side, away from her.
"Ya know, I don't like this, this burning people alive crap. We're civilized people unlike these chinks and you monkeys. But ya know-" He shrugged. "This is the way the chinks do it, so we need that authenticity. So I'm afraid we won't get to shoot ya before it starts. Don't worry though, I hear you pass out long before ya die, so there is that."
The other one beside him took another drag of his cigarette; and this one chuckled. "Betcha she'll scream, busted ribs or no busted ribs. I hear they all manage to scream." He laughed again.
And Sophia, tied to a chair, an extension cord around her wrists, the stink of gas clogging up her nose and the agony of multiple broken bones in her body, had to face a very real and simple truth...
They didn't care about the 'proper' order of the world.
She was no predator to them.
They were not her prey.
And she was indeed going to die.
The two of them were so focused on her, when a white blur came careening out of the back of a warehouse, neither of them noticed 'til it was already on top of them.
Then it and the cripple were on the ground, and Sophia saw very clearly a man.
Tall, thin with dark hair and glasses, using the end of a car club to beat the cripple over the head as the skinhead tried to defend himself.
His buddy, moved to grab a gun when someone else hit him in the back of the knee with the other end of the club and then cracked him across the face, and Sophia could have sworn she was hallucinating.
Tall, taller than her, dark hair that trailed down to her back…
Hebert?
The two kept swinging, and somewhere Sophia heard the crack of a gunshot as her vision swam and she lost focus of the whole thing.
The next thing she knew, she was being lowered to the ground.
"She needs an ambulance." She heard him before she saw him, hovering over her, his resemblance to Hebert was uncanny.
"Taylor- Taylor look at me. Stay with her while I see if this guy has a phone on him."
"O-okay dad."
And then the man was replaced, and Sophia was staring up at the worried eyes of Taylor Hebert.
"Hey… Can you hear me?" She asked. "It's gonna be okay now, we're gonna get you some help."
Sophia tried to move, to speak, but all she managed to do was raise her hand, searching for something, a knife, a crossbow, any weapon, something that can make her feel...safe...in control again.
But all she found were Taylor's hands squeezing her own in a grip that hurts, like everything else.
She squeezed back, and didn't let go until the ambulance arrived and pulled them apart.
(X)(X)(X)
My thanks go out to @Axel Fones and @Words Words Words for their work as Betas
9:19 PM:
The lights of Downtown Brockton Bay gave a ruddy glow to the night. Like...copper. Long shadows snaking through the streets with the bright contrast.
She looked to her phone, her lip curling at the time. All she had was another forty minutes before she had to head back.
Fucking PRT. Fucking scheduling bullshit.
She remembered when she could stay out as long as she wanted and do as much as she wanted. Now she had a fucking caseworker that paid attention to her school attendance and her grades. Now she has to go to sleep so she can make nice with snot nosed kids at the mall in the morning. Fucking waste of time. No wonder this town was going to shit when all the fucking posers did was sign autographs and smile for a stupid camera.
Wasting her fucking days there rather than doing what she was best at.
At least the nights were still hers, for a few hours anyway
As she patrolled her chosen stretch of the woods tonight, it didn't take her long to find them. They always kept to their haunts, their territories and cliques. If they didn't, they thought they'd look weak by backing down from a single vigilante. A Ward now, she supposed.
She never hit the same place too often, too quickly. Often it was randomized, whatever suited her fancy so she didn't fall into a pattern. And attacking all the gangs, be they ABB, E-88 or Merchants, let her stretch out the period between her attacks quite a bit, giving her chosen targets at any given night their sense of security all over again before she hit them.
Tonight was no different.
The skinheads were in their apartment, playing cards. Only two of them had guns, both of which were stuffed into the back of their pants. The stink of weed and cheap beer made her curl her nose where she watched them from the shadow of the hallway that none of them were paying attention to.
She fingered her crossbow, trying not to think about the tranq darts she had instead of proper bolts. E-88 thugs winding up injured with bolts was gonna be too much of a red flag for anyone to miss.
Grue was the exception she was willing to risk her neck for, but these fuckers just weren't worth it, satisfying as it would have been.
She slipped into her shadow state, moving past the wall to check room by room and make sure there were no surprises.
She found a few guns scattered here and there, and used her shadow state to place them between the panels of the walls and leaving them there. She only wanted to make certain no one could go fishing for a gun in the imminent fight to come back and try to shoot her.
After that, and making sure there was no one else in the house, she drew one of the two knives she'd pilfered out of the kitchen at home.
She decided it was time to break up their card game.
When she struck, she struck fast. She was more than a match for any of these losers but there were eight of them and one of the pricks might just get a lucky shot off if they kept getting back up.
One of them barely had time to shout a warning before she materialized right beside his friend, fist already rushing down, knife in hand.
With the wet squelch of steel cutting flesh mixed with the thump of it meeting wood, his hand was suddenly impaled on the table.
He howled.
Then the room was sheer pandemonium.
Her crossbow came up, firing off a bolt that hit a thug right in the forearm. It'd take a few extra seconds to knock him out rather than in the chest, which is what she'd been aiming for, but she decided to just be grateful he hadn't dodged entirely like she would have.
Then her crossbow was battering the face of the thug to her left, cracking him across the jaw with a spurt of blood and busted teeth.
She shifted to her shadow state a second before the guns started firing.
The bullets passed right through her with harmless ease, and as she shifted through the table she transformed back into physical form mid jump, her arm snaking around a thugs neck to bring him down with her full body weight. After sending his skull crashing into the wall and burying it in the dry, cheap plaster, she pulled out her second knife and buried it right in his gut.
He wasn't getting up again any time soon.
She turned, watching as the only other thug with a gun, a piece of shit six shooter was fumbling in his attempts to reload.
She moved to step forward, translating back into her shadow state to take him down hard and then deal with the remaining four skinheads when there was movement directly below and behind her.
And then her whole world bloomed in white hot agony.
Her muscles locked, her teeth snapping shut inside her mouth as her whole body seized up. Her mask hit the corner of the table as she fell, the steel of the mask bouncing off of the wood with a dull clank that sounded loud in her ears as her body hit the floor with a thud, muscles still locked in place.
Her instinct was to shut her eyes tight, but she fought that, kept them open forced herself to keep them open. To look and find out what was happening.
She found it a second later.
The thug. The one she'd shot with the tranq bolt, the one who was getting back up...
New cape? Brute?
"Fucking bitch," he snarled, keeping his finger on the trigger of the taser. "Yeah, learned all about this shit you nigger cunt! Don't like electricity much do ya?" Showing off his arm, Sophia could now see the slightly reflective surface.
A prosthetic...
She'd shot her tranq into a fucking prosthetic!?
"How you like that bitch!?" He laughed. "Taken down by a fucking cripple!"
Around them, the other thugs were gathering themselves, finding their feet again. The five she'd yet to take down moving to help the two she'd wounded.
The one that had been fumbling with his six shooter came back, weapon in hand and pointing it right at her face.
For the first time in a very very long time... Sophia felt a very real chill crawl down her spine.
A hand came down on the weapon arm, shoving it down. "The hell are you doin?"
"Offin this bitch!?" The gunman answered. "The fuck do you think I'm doing?"
"Bein an idiot. Kaiser doesn't like it when you kill capes. Remember that shit with Fleur?"
"She fuckin killed Benny three months ago!" Another of the skin heads roared, she didn't see who.
The cripple shrugged. "I ain't getting on the boss' bad-side. And since I'm the one with the fuckin taser, I'm the one that says what happens."
"Well what are we gonna do? Give her a fuckin fruit basket send her on her way with a "Don't come by here again?"
The cripple looked at her, finger still pressed on the taser's trigger, keeping her muscles locked in an ever mounting and increasing loop of pain.
"Nah. This bitch is dead." he drawled. "We're just not gonna be stupid about it." He looked away. "Crowbars and knives boys. We're not making it quick for her. And for fuck's sake, someone get an extension cord to tie this bitch before I run out of battery!"
(X)(X)(X)
It hurt to breathe.
Everything hurt, but it hurt most to breathe.
Because she'd learned breathing techniques in order to try and alleviate pain. Deep, slow breaths that were supposed to help put it out of her immediate focus, but now only served to bring a whole new level of agony to her aching body.
The fucking cripple had kept his word...it hadn't been quick.
They took their time... fucking enjoyed it.
Took turns with the crowbar in beating her half to death, then the knife in cutting her where it would hurt. The bend of her elbow, behind her knees, the soles of her feet.
She fought.
She fought like she always fought, but with her hands and feet tied, they practically laughed at her.
Laughed...
And as her bones broke and her body began to fail her, the fight literally beaten out of her, that chill that had crawled down her spine crystallized into a very real fear. A very real desperation as she became very much aware of the danger of death for, perhaps, the first time in her life.
And as the pain mounted, as her vision swam and she tasted the copper, metal and bile at the back of a throat that made her whole chest burn with liquid fire with every attempt to swallow; that piece of her, the one that furiously roared at the impossibility of this, of her being captured, threatened, killed by prey became quieter, and quieter.
When the car came to a stop, she was barely coherent. The blood that poured down from her mouth was nearly drowning her in and of itself as it struggled to escape the tight confines of her sealed mask; only allowed to escape when she violently heaved and thrashed with reflexive movements as the blood flooded her airway.
The trunk of the car opened up and the familiar stink of Brockton Bay's docks assaulted her nose.
Sea salt, grime, exhaust fumes and fish.
Asians.
They were gonna kill her and fucking pin it on the Asians.
"Come on. Let's get this shit over with"
She heard the voice, and felt a hand grab onto her hair, hard enough to pull some out from the root. She winced, grimacing. She tried to lift her legs to deliver some kind of kick but a single shift sent jagged spears tearing through her stomach and chest and sapped all the strength from her body in an instant.
The bastard dropped her.
She landed right on her side, the broken ribs shifting in her chest.
The scream she gargled on blood and the pain all but knocked her out completely, leaving her with only the barest vestige of awareness.
When she came to again, her chest was on fire, every muscle felt like a wet noodle. She barely even had the strength to raise her head.
Then the smell of gasoline hit her…
Her eyes snapped open, her heart beginning to go a mile a minute in her chest.
No!
She managed - forced herself - to look up, finding the two skin-heads that had driven her out here not three feet away, an empty, bright red gasoline tank on the ground as they both smoked some cigarettes.
The cripple, because of course it would be him, laughed. "Well nigger bitch, you had a good ride, but the ride's over now." He took a drag of his cigarette and he made a show of preparing to flick it towards, her, her heart dropping into a pit as her throat clogged up with the pain in her chest as she tried to scream.
Then he flicked it to the side, away from her.
"Ya know, I don't like this, this burning people alive crap. We're civilized people unlike these chinks and you monkeys. But ya know-" He shrugged. "This is the way the chinks do it, so we need that authenticity. So I'm afraid we won't get to shoot ya before it starts. Don't worry though, I hear you pass out long before ya die, so there is that."
The other one beside him took another drag of his cigarette; and this one chuckled. "Betcha she'll scream, busted ribs or no busted ribs. I hear they all manage to scream." He laughed again.
And Sophia, tied to a chair, an extension cord around her wrists, the stink of gas clogging up her nose and the agony of multiple broken bones in her body, had to face a very real and simple truth...
They didn't care about the 'proper' order of the world.
She was no predator to them.
They were not her prey.
And she was indeed going to die.
The two of them were so focused on her, when a white blur came careening out of the back of a warehouse, neither of them noticed 'til it was already on top of them.
Then it and the cripple were on the ground, and Sophia saw very clearly a man.
Tall, thin with dark hair and glasses, using the end of a car club to beat the cripple over the head as the skinhead tried to defend himself.
His buddy, moved to grab a gun when someone else hit him in the back of the knee with the other end of the club and then cracked him across the face, and Sophia could have sworn she was hallucinating.
Tall, taller than her, dark hair that trailed down to her back…
Hebert?
The two kept swinging, and somewhere Sophia heard the crack of a gunshot as her vision swam and she lost focus of the whole thing.
The next thing she knew, she was being lowered to the ground.
"She needs an ambulance." She heard him before she saw him, hovering over her, his resemblance to Hebert was uncanny.
"Taylor- Taylor look at me. Stay with her while I see if this guy has a phone on him."
"O-okay dad."
And then the man was replaced, and Sophia was staring up at the worried eyes of Taylor Hebert.
"Hey… Can you hear me?" She asked. "It's gonna be okay now, we're gonna get you some help."
Sophia tried to move, to speak, but all she managed to do was raise her hand, searching for something, a knife, a crossbow, any weapon, something that can make her feel...safe...in control again.
But all she found were Taylor's hands squeezing her own in a grip that hurts, like everything else.
She squeezed back, and didn't let go until the ambulance arrived and pulled them apart.
(X)(X)(X)
My thanks go out to @Axel Fones and @Words Words Words for their work as Betas
0.4
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
December 14th, 2010
10:56 PM:
Tortured.
A Ward, tortured.
Beaten, nearly burnt to death.
On his watch.
Unacceptable didn't even begin to describe it.
To the world at large, he'd received the news on base with very little show of emotion. He seemed to take the report of the near death of one of his charges with all the nonchalance of having received a report that all was well.
To those who knew him well, Militia, Dragon, even Piggot, they could tell that he was seething.
Shadow Stalker was a Ward and one of the things he'd promised; assured, to both her and her mother was that she would be safer under the Protectorate's watch rather than on her own.
It didn't matter that she was acting without authorization on a solo patrol. It didn't matter that he hadn't known about it. It didn't matter that, if she would have had proper backup it never would have gone this far.
What mattered was that he should have made sure she wasn't still going on those patrols. What mattered was that he should have known. What mattered… was that it was only because of his insistence; his insistence that any record even existed regarding her weakness to electricity. No one had known before he came along and put it on a fucking record.
It was because of him that she'd been captured at all!
Sophia was practically a child.
She was supposed to be stupid.
What goddamn excuse did he have?
As he pulled into the private hospital wing reserved exclusively for capes, the engine of his motorcycle growled like an angry beast, giving a voice to the expression Colin had on his face.
Turning the machine off and moving to step inside, the blast of cold air slapped him across the face. The first nurse that caught sight of him didn't even need to be told. She just pointed down the hallway. "Room 4C sir."
He moves past her, distantly realizing he hadn't nodded or thanked her. Rude of him. But the larger part could barely bring himself to care.
Weapon in hand, he pushed through the doors and immediately caught sight of two people
The civilians.
It was the young woman that noticed him first, looking up as the door opened and straightening her spine as though she wanted to fall into attention. "A-Armsmaster!"
The man looked up at the sound of her voice, finally noticing him and standing up. "Ahh, I...uhh."
"Mr. and Ms. Hebert I take it." He said in order to spare them the awkwardness. "I understand I have you to thank for Shadow Stalker's rescue."
"Ahh, I suppose that's correct sir." Mr. Hebert answered, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "Is she going to be ok?"
Physically yes. He almost answered, but having learned from past experience that answer wasn't always appreciated, he refrained.
Instead, he decided to question. "Could the two of you give me a brief description as to what happened tonight, from your perspective?"
"Ahh...well," Mr. Hebert began. Now having a better look at the man, he seemed familiar…
"With school having finished just yesterday, Taylor came with me to the office."
"Where is your office?"
"Union office, Dockworkers association," he said.
Ahh yes. That would explain him recognizing the man a bit. The Dockworkers union was still an entity in Brockton Bay that had some degree of pull.
"Well." He scratched at his head. "We were getting ready to head home when Taylor spotted the car?"
"Car?" He had to ask. His lie detector hadn't given him any warnings but they hadn't found a car on scene.
"Yeah." It was the girl, Taylor, who answered. "It was a faded, lime green Ford. Not sure what year, but the license plate was HVF-365, the skin-head that got away drove off with it."
Armsmaster immediately put it into his search program. The thing sifting through the data and coming up with a name and address.
With a blink he sent it to PRT HQ, flagged as a high priority.
All without missing a beat.
He nodded. "I understand. So you're saying there were two attackers?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Dad hit one guy, knocked him out-"
He did more than that. Armsmaster thought.
From the initial reports, Hebert had hit the man so hard the doctors weren't sure he was going to survive. The first blow had all but cracked his skull, the second and third had put the man's condition from dangerous to outright critical.
That wasn't something to trouble them with though. As far as he was concerned, this was a clear case of defense of a third party, and if he had to lean on the District Attorney he would.
He wouldn't hang the man out to dry after he'd saved his Ward.
"-I tried to hit the other guy just as hard but he dodged. He tried to pull a gun and I hit him in the hand instead. He dropped the gun and ran. I think I broke his hand but I'm not sure."
He nodded, mildly impressed.
"I see. Could you describe the man if we brought in a sketch artist?"
"I...I… Maybe?: She winced, clearly dissapointed with herself. "It was dark and I mean...his face wasn't covered or anything but my eyes were on the gun not his face."
He nodded. "All the same it's best to try."
He looked to the door where Stalker was currently being treated. "I know this has been a long and exhausting night, but I'll ask that you two stay for a while longer until we can officially take your statements and the sketch artist arrives. Right now, I should check on Stalker, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course." Daniel answered, stepping back and taking his seat again.
"Will you- Will you tell us if she'll be ok?" The girl was the one who asked.
He nodded. "You'll be the first to know." He assured.
He meant it too.
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
11:27 AM:
"My orders stand Armsmaster! I can't allow you to go on a one man crusade against the E-88!"
His grip on his halberd was nearly crushing to avoid gritting his teeth.
"We can't allow them to get away with this!"
"No we can't but neither can we simply launch a full on assault like you seem to wish. We have neither the manpower, nor the resources. Nor, for that matter, do we need to. Lung is already incensed by the attempt to pin a murder on him. If I were a betting woman I'd say he was already thinking of launching his own attack on the E-88. When that happens we can easily march in and capture many Empire capes that would be exhausted from the previous fight."
Colin felt his lip curl.
What she said made tactical sense. They couldn't stop Lung from attacking the E-88 in retaliation, so why not take advantage of it to easily capture some wounded or exhausted capes?
It let them hit the Empire... but it didn't make a statement.
It didn't show them that the Protectorate was a force that they couldn't afford to spit in the face of.
All it did was...leave them nipping at the Empire's heels while they had bigger problems to deal with.
It wasn't even so much Sophia as it was the title she wore.
The Wards were under his protection. They were his responsibility.
And the thought of needing to stand in another room offering nothing but empty apologies to a crying mother, or calling Panacea in the middle of the night because the injuries were severe enough to make it necessary on another occasion because the Empire thought they could get away with it rankled to say the very least.
"I understand your reservations but you need to also understand that this will only invite more-"
The phone, and his helmet alert sounded at the same time.
He turned away as Piggot answered the phone, answering his own call at the same time.
"Armsmaster here- What?"
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
11:38 AM:
His bike roared down the street, street light scheduling software and cameras allowing him to all but slice through the city in record time with little danger of any accident.
As he arrived at the rendezvous, Velocity was already standing there, arms crossed and pacing back and forth.
He brought the bike to a stop. "Militia?"
"In position. They're there."
"How many?"
"Five."
He nodded, looking to Velocity who looked equally grim.
"If they attack, put a bullet through his brain." He said.
"His skull is right in my cross hairs."
He looked to Velocity. "Let's go."
With a roar of his engine he was rushing down the road by Velocity's side.
Reaching the construction site for a new building he pressed on the brakes, coming face to face with Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Krieg and Hookwolf.
The leader of the empire was sitting down on one of his infamous thrones of blades, Fenja and Menja at his side, Krieg stood to his right, leaning against a wall, Hookwolf to his left sitting on a stack of bricks.
Fenja stepped forward. "Kaiser of the empire has granted you an-"
"Be quiet." His voice could have frozen over the entire bay and did a remarkable job of quieting the Empire Valkyrie immediately.
Looking to Kaiser his sneer was palpable. "You have sixty seconds to make this worth my time. Take any longer, make me waste my time and this meeting is over. And I promise you you won't like the results of that."
"So angry," the leader of the Empire drawled. "Fine then. Let me be blunt. The attack on your Ward was entirely unsanctioned. The empire at large had no knowledge, or involvement in it."
"You think that makes it better?" Velocity hissed.
Kaiser shrugged. "I am here merely as a courtesy. One man you have in custody, as a token of good faith, I will deliver unto you the other."
"In exchange for us to not retaliate against you?"
"In exchange for neither of us wasting time or energy to be frank. Your nigger Ward simply isn't worth the headache. I'm sure you agree."
"Pompous bastard." Armsmaster heard Militia tsk in his ear, her finger cradling the trigger that would take Kaiser's head clean off.
"Stalker has confirmed that there were more than just two of your men."
"Yes. She stabbed the two others." Kaiser answered.
"There were more." He insisted.
The man shrugged. "Then your nigger should learn to count. She stabbed two, you have the other two."
Without another word, Kaiser stood from his impromptu throne, brushing himself off. "The other is handing himself over to police custody in precinct seven as we speak. We're done here."
Just like that, the man turned and walked away.
'Orders?"
The Tinker almost wanted to give Militia the order to shoot regardless.
He sighed through his nostrils, watching the five Empire capes leaving one by one.
"Stand down." He growled.
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
2:38 PM:
"So it really was unsanctioned then?" Piggot asked, sitting at her desk.
"It would seem that way," he grudgingly agreed.
The second attacker had been delivered to the police precinct as promised. He was on his way here, with a full signed confession on hand.
He was fingering no one else.
…
Over a half dozen attackers… and all they had were two…
It left a disgusting taste in his mouth.
Piggot nodded. "Lung is still angry. I doubt he'll be quite so easily appeased. We'll keep our ears to the ground on that front for an opportunity we can take advantage of."
He didn't like it. Despite her insistence, he doubted even she liked it. But there was little more they could do given the circumstances.
"Given this information, I'll be pulling the protection details from Sophia and the Heberts in two days time. We could use those resources elsewhere. Do you disagree?" She asked.
He thought, considering for a moment.
From the profile he had available to him, he knew Kaiser was notoriously adherent to the rules that governed the cape life.
If the attack against Sophia was indeed unsanctioned as it appeared, then she was in very little danger. Same thing with the Heberts.
He shook his head. "No I don't. If it is all the same to you, I will return to my lab."
And just like that, the meeting was over.
And the door was swung wide open for the events that would come to pass in the following week.
10:56 PM:
Tortured.
A Ward, tortured.
Beaten, nearly burnt to death.
On his watch.
Unacceptable didn't even begin to describe it.
To the world at large, he'd received the news on base with very little show of emotion. He seemed to take the report of the near death of one of his charges with all the nonchalance of having received a report that all was well.
To those who knew him well, Militia, Dragon, even Piggot, they could tell that he was seething.
Shadow Stalker was a Ward and one of the things he'd promised; assured, to both her and her mother was that she would be safer under the Protectorate's watch rather than on her own.
It didn't matter that she was acting without authorization on a solo patrol. It didn't matter that he hadn't known about it. It didn't matter that, if she would have had proper backup it never would have gone this far.
What mattered was that he should have made sure she wasn't still going on those patrols. What mattered was that he should have known. What mattered… was that it was only because of his insistence; his insistence that any record even existed regarding her weakness to electricity. No one had known before he came along and put it on a fucking record.
It was because of him that she'd been captured at all!
Sophia was practically a child.
She was supposed to be stupid.
What goddamn excuse did he have?
As he pulled into the private hospital wing reserved exclusively for capes, the engine of his motorcycle growled like an angry beast, giving a voice to the expression Colin had on his face.
Turning the machine off and moving to step inside, the blast of cold air slapped him across the face. The first nurse that caught sight of him didn't even need to be told. She just pointed down the hallway. "Room 4C sir."
He moves past her, distantly realizing he hadn't nodded or thanked her. Rude of him. But the larger part could barely bring himself to care.
Weapon in hand, he pushed through the doors and immediately caught sight of two people
The civilians.
It was the young woman that noticed him first, looking up as the door opened and straightening her spine as though she wanted to fall into attention. "A-Armsmaster!"
The man looked up at the sound of her voice, finally noticing him and standing up. "Ahh, I...uhh."
"Mr. and Ms. Hebert I take it." He said in order to spare them the awkwardness. "I understand I have you to thank for Shadow Stalker's rescue."
"Ahh, I suppose that's correct sir." Mr. Hebert answered, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "Is she going to be ok?"
Physically yes. He almost answered, but having learned from past experience that answer wasn't always appreciated, he refrained.
Instead, he decided to question. "Could the two of you give me a brief description as to what happened tonight, from your perspective?"
"Ahh...well," Mr. Hebert began. Now having a better look at the man, he seemed familiar…
"With school having finished just yesterday, Taylor came with me to the office."
"Where is your office?"
"Union office, Dockworkers association," he said.
Ahh yes. That would explain him recognizing the man a bit. The Dockworkers union was still an entity in Brockton Bay that had some degree of pull.
"Well." He scratched at his head. "We were getting ready to head home when Taylor spotted the car?"
"Car?" He had to ask. His lie detector hadn't given him any warnings but they hadn't found a car on scene.
"Yeah." It was the girl, Taylor, who answered. "It was a faded, lime green Ford. Not sure what year, but the license plate was HVF-365, the skin-head that got away drove off with it."
Armsmaster immediately put it into his search program. The thing sifting through the data and coming up with a name and address.
With a blink he sent it to PRT HQ, flagged as a high priority.
All without missing a beat.
He nodded. "I understand. So you're saying there were two attackers?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Dad hit one guy, knocked him out-"
He did more than that. Armsmaster thought.
From the initial reports, Hebert had hit the man so hard the doctors weren't sure he was going to survive. The first blow had all but cracked his skull, the second and third had put the man's condition from dangerous to outright critical.
That wasn't something to trouble them with though. As far as he was concerned, this was a clear case of defense of a third party, and if he had to lean on the District Attorney he would.
He wouldn't hang the man out to dry after he'd saved his Ward.
"-I tried to hit the other guy just as hard but he dodged. He tried to pull a gun and I hit him in the hand instead. He dropped the gun and ran. I think I broke his hand but I'm not sure."
He nodded, mildly impressed.
"I see. Could you describe the man if we brought in a sketch artist?"
"I...I… Maybe?: She winced, clearly dissapointed with herself. "It was dark and I mean...his face wasn't covered or anything but my eyes were on the gun not his face."
He nodded. "All the same it's best to try."
He looked to the door where Stalker was currently being treated. "I know this has been a long and exhausting night, but I'll ask that you two stay for a while longer until we can officially take your statements and the sketch artist arrives. Right now, I should check on Stalker, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course." Daniel answered, stepping back and taking his seat again.
"Will you- Will you tell us if she'll be ok?" The girl was the one who asked.
He nodded. "You'll be the first to know." He assured.
He meant it too.
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
11:27 AM:
"My orders stand Armsmaster! I can't allow you to go on a one man crusade against the E-88!"
His grip on his halberd was nearly crushing to avoid gritting his teeth.
"We can't allow them to get away with this!"
"No we can't but neither can we simply launch a full on assault like you seem to wish. We have neither the manpower, nor the resources. Nor, for that matter, do we need to. Lung is already incensed by the attempt to pin a murder on him. If I were a betting woman I'd say he was already thinking of launching his own attack on the E-88. When that happens we can easily march in and capture many Empire capes that would be exhausted from the previous fight."
Colin felt his lip curl.
What she said made tactical sense. They couldn't stop Lung from attacking the E-88 in retaliation, so why not take advantage of it to easily capture some wounded or exhausted capes?
It let them hit the Empire... but it didn't make a statement.
It didn't show them that the Protectorate was a force that they couldn't afford to spit in the face of.
All it did was...leave them nipping at the Empire's heels while they had bigger problems to deal with.
It wasn't even so much Sophia as it was the title she wore.
The Wards were under his protection. They were his responsibility.
And the thought of needing to stand in another room offering nothing but empty apologies to a crying mother, or calling Panacea in the middle of the night because the injuries were severe enough to make it necessary on another occasion because the Empire thought they could get away with it rankled to say the very least.
"I understand your reservations but you need to also understand that this will only invite more-"
The phone, and his helmet alert sounded at the same time.
He turned away as Piggot answered the phone, answering his own call at the same time.
"Armsmaster here- What?"
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
11:38 AM:
His bike roared down the street, street light scheduling software and cameras allowing him to all but slice through the city in record time with little danger of any accident.
As he arrived at the rendezvous, Velocity was already standing there, arms crossed and pacing back and forth.
He brought the bike to a stop. "Militia?"
"In position. They're there."
"How many?"
"Five."
He nodded, looking to Velocity who looked equally grim.
"If they attack, put a bullet through his brain." He said.
"His skull is right in my cross hairs."
He looked to Velocity. "Let's go."
With a roar of his engine he was rushing down the road by Velocity's side.
Reaching the construction site for a new building he pressed on the brakes, coming face to face with Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Krieg and Hookwolf.
The leader of the empire was sitting down on one of his infamous thrones of blades, Fenja and Menja at his side, Krieg stood to his right, leaning against a wall, Hookwolf to his left sitting on a stack of bricks.
Fenja stepped forward. "Kaiser of the empire has granted you an-"
"Be quiet." His voice could have frozen over the entire bay and did a remarkable job of quieting the Empire Valkyrie immediately.
Looking to Kaiser his sneer was palpable. "You have sixty seconds to make this worth my time. Take any longer, make me waste my time and this meeting is over. And I promise you you won't like the results of that."
"So angry," the leader of the Empire drawled. "Fine then. Let me be blunt. The attack on your Ward was entirely unsanctioned. The empire at large had no knowledge, or involvement in it."
"You think that makes it better?" Velocity hissed.
Kaiser shrugged. "I am here merely as a courtesy. One man you have in custody, as a token of good faith, I will deliver unto you the other."
"In exchange for us to not retaliate against you?"
"In exchange for neither of us wasting time or energy to be frank. Your nigger Ward simply isn't worth the headache. I'm sure you agree."
"Pompous bastard." Armsmaster heard Militia tsk in his ear, her finger cradling the trigger that would take Kaiser's head clean off.
"Stalker has confirmed that there were more than just two of your men."
"Yes. She stabbed the two others." Kaiser answered.
"There were more." He insisted.
The man shrugged. "Then your nigger should learn to count. She stabbed two, you have the other two."
Without another word, Kaiser stood from his impromptu throne, brushing himself off. "The other is handing himself over to police custody in precinct seven as we speak. We're done here."
Just like that, the man turned and walked away.
'Orders?"
The Tinker almost wanted to give Militia the order to shoot regardless.
He sighed through his nostrils, watching the five Empire capes leaving one by one.
"Stand down." He growled.
(X)(X)(X)
December 16th, 2010
2:38 PM:
"So it really was unsanctioned then?" Piggot asked, sitting at her desk.
"It would seem that way," he grudgingly agreed.
The second attacker had been delivered to the police precinct as promised. He was on his way here, with a full signed confession on hand.
He was fingering no one else.
…
Over a half dozen attackers… and all they had were two…
It left a disgusting taste in his mouth.
Piggot nodded. "Lung is still angry. I doubt he'll be quite so easily appeased. We'll keep our ears to the ground on that front for an opportunity we can take advantage of."
He didn't like it. Despite her insistence, he doubted even she liked it. But there was little more they could do given the circumstances.
"Given this information, I'll be pulling the protection details from Sophia and the Heberts in two days time. We could use those resources elsewhere. Do you disagree?" She asked.
He thought, considering for a moment.
From the profile he had available to him, he knew Kaiser was notoriously adherent to the rules that governed the cape life.
If the attack against Sophia was indeed unsanctioned as it appeared, then she was in very little danger. Same thing with the Heberts.
He shook his head. "No I don't. If it is all the same to you, I will return to my lab."
And just like that, the meeting was over.
And the door was swung wide open for the events that would come to pass in the following week.
0.5
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
December 23rd, 2010
3:17 PM:
Daniel Hebert nodded, his ear pressed to the phone. "Yes. Yes I understand. Is there anything I have to do? Something I have to sign?"
…
"I see." He nodded. "Thank you."
He hung the phone back onto its cradle and sighed a deep, relieved breath.
When he turned, he was surprised to see Taylor standing just a hand's breadth away. He hadn't even heard her drawing close. "Oh, hey hon-"
"What's going on?" She asked, straight to the point, eyes shining with concern.
He shook his head. "Good news actually. The state won't be pressing charges, the DA finds it to be a clear cut case of defense of others."
Taylor shifted from foot to foot.
Danny looked at her. "Hun? Something wrong?"
"I... " She sighed. "I don't know, I feel like I should apologize."
"Apologize?"
"I mean...yeah you're getting called by the DA with them talking about criminal charges, getting harassed at work-"
"Hey!" He interrupted, rounding on her enough to place both hands on her shoulders.
"Look at me," he insisted, meeting her eyes through the rim of her glasses. "It's because of you we saw anything that night. We saved that girl and that's something you should never feel sorry about. Am I clear? You did a good thing. And I won't let anyone say anything different. Not even you, kiddo."
He smiled a bit at his own joke, but it fell rather flat as Taylor didn't smile back.
He sighed. "Look. Yes the DA considered pressing charges but only as a preliminary consideration. Now that he's heard everything he is completely dropping the charges. And I wasn't harassed at my work I was asked questions by one asian gang member. I pointed the finger at the E-88 and they're a lot more mad at them than they are at me. Everything is fine. Me having a bad day or two is a small price to pay for that girl to be alright Taylor."
She nodded, the movement jerky and broken as though she was forcing herself to do so.
The truth was, he could understand.
She was scared for him.
And even though he was putting up a strong front he was terrified for her.
One of those men got away.
Gangsters could talk. And in a city as relatively small as Brockton Bay, word was going to get around and he wasn't exactly an unknown figure.
When Taylor went back to school in a few weeks… if one of those gangsters got it in their head to get revenge on her…
Maybe he should call Emma, ask her to keep an eye out for trouble?
The girls had grown a little distant since Annette's death, but surely Emma would look out for Taylor in this situation for the first few weeks after they got back to school.
He took a breath. "Hey. Whaddaya-say we go out to eat? It's your pick." He smirked. "I'll even take you to that sushi place down by fourth that you like so much"
She smiled back a little.
He just then that it had been a long time since he'd seen her smile.
"Dad. You hate raw fish."
He shrugged. "Yeah well I gotta take you some place nice. Not every day your little girl rescues a hero."
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
6:03 PM:
As promised they drove to the sushi place, Taylor ordered her favorite dish, something he didn't even bother to learn to pronounce. He stuck with just about the only thing he found at least mildly palatable since it was cooked. Eel fried rice.
He didn't want to know what parts were the eel. Ignorance is bliss and all that.
As far as taste went, he didn't think it was worth even half of what he paid.
But it put a smile on Taylor's face. She let him see it too.
And that was worth every penny in his book.
As they made it out of the restaurant and back into his beat-up old truck, he started the guttering engine with a wince. He really needed to take a look under the hood soon.
Pulling out of the parking lot, he drove down the block, letting the silence fall between his daughter and himself once again.
He took a deep breath.
"Hey," he ventured as he came to a stop at a red light. "Do you think th-"
*CRASH!*
The impact nearly snapped his neck, the sheer whiplash crunching the side of his skull into the window hard enough to crack it, his arms were ripped from the steering wheel, left elbow crunching into the door arm rest as his glasses flew off of his eyes.
The acrid smell of burnt rubber flooded his nostrils, the pain over his face and chest burned!
He groaned out an intelligible sound of pain as his vision swam, caught between the fugue in the space between alert and dazed.
The white of the airbag was all he could see. Limp and empty…
That explained the burning pain… airbag residue…
"Ta-" He coughed, a lump of pain choking him mid word. "Taylor!" He turned, searching for his daughter.
Moving...She was moving…
Thank god!
Then he heard the door snap open.
The brief belief it was someone that came to help them was cut abruptly short as the growl cut through his swimming thoughts like a knife-
"Come here you little shit!"
"DAD!"
Every dazed sense in his mind sprang to full alert!, his blurry vision taking in the scene of a man with a ski-mask reaching into the car to grab his little girl! Pulling her out by her arm and hair!
"TAYLOR!" He roared, all but leaping across the length of the front seat to punch the bastard square in the face, his long, gangly limbs allowing him to feel the crunch of the attacker's nose as his reach took him completely by surprise.
He didn't let go of Taylor, and as he fell back he yanked on her hair, making her scream as Danny's door opened behind him.
Someone grabbed at his legs, and Danny kicked like a wild beast, trying to buck and shove his way across to the passenger seat to get at the other son of a bitch holding onto his daughter.
But they pulled him, yanked him almost full out of his door, and Danny saw red.
The dockworker union manager roared like a madman, eyes wild and face red with a blind rage that all but let him bodily lift a man twice his size and shoving him into the door of the car that crashed into them.
The man punched him, landing solid, brutal hits into Danny's stomach and cheek and Danny barely even felt the pain, grabbing onto the man's hair through the mask and slamming his head into the steel of the car door over and over and over again!
A pain lanced up his spine and adrenalin or not Danny still fell to his knees, his target falling with him, a puppet with his strings cut.
He turned, looking over his shoulder in time to only catch the black blur of something being swung at him before it cracked him across the face.
He something rattle in his mouth, and only distantly realized it was a tooth as he swallowed it.
He tasted metal.
The last thing Daniel Hebert heard before the blow that knocked him out came, was his daughter screaming at the other side of the truck.
(X)(X)(X)
When Danny woke up it was to the sharp, brutal sting of smelling salts.
"Barcode's not dead. Haha!" Someone laughed in front of him, the yellow light bulb hanging from a string in a bare, spartan room
"Damn right he's not," someone else said, and Danny's quickly clearing vision found the sight of two men who must have been Empire-88. They had bandanas over their faces, but their scalps were bare and their tattoos on display.
He tried to move, feeling the wires digging harshly into the flesh of his wrist, ankles similarly bound to a sturdy metal chair.
"Ta-Taylor?!" He called panning his eyes around the room.
Four bare walls and a staircase was all he could see. Some kind of basement, or a cellar, no windows that he could find. Behind the two skinheads Danny could see a camera with a mess of wires and cables nearly tangled as they trailed over to a laptop that was sitting on an empty paint drum.
When he finally saw Taylor his heart dropped.
She was bound, just like he was, only with ropes rather than wires, small mercies. Gagged so she couldn't scream, he could see the trails of tears down her eyes and the bruise forming on her face.
She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, her teeth biting down on the gag like she was trying to chew straight through it, pulling and tugging at her binds even as they rubbed and scraped her skin raw and red with the coarse rope.
"Hey! Hey!" The first skinhead that spoke saw her, walking over. "Hey, you cut that shit out or I start cutting off fingers and toes girlie!"
"You son of a bitch you stay away from her, you hear me!" Danny shouted.
Suddenly, there was a knife trailing along his cheek.
"Ya see, now that's real interestin'." The second skinhead whispered. "Don't like it when someone threatens your family huh? Don't like it when someone does somethin' to em?"
Daniel panted through his nose like a winded dog, his chest heaving and shaking with the excess adrenaline pouring through his system as he tried to get his breathing under control, staring into the man's eyes.
"Look…" He began hoping his next statement was true in Taylor's case. "We haven't seen your faces. Neither of us have seen your faces. This doesn't-"
"Oh," the man kneeling in front of him drawled, before reaching to his bandanna and pulling it off with little preamble.
Daniel suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were going to die down here.
"Well here, now ya have. Name's Derek. Nice to fuckin meet ya."
Then the knife was driven straight through Daniel's palm to nail the limb to the tin chair beneath it!
His scream of pain could have woken the dead, and Taylor's own cry on his behalf barely even registered.
He looked down, looking at a hand that shook with the effort to keep still, red hot blood gushing from the wound to stain the metal and bloom up around the knife to drench the back of his hand, wrist and fingers.
The skinhead… Derek, knelt down infront of him, his face devoid of expression. "Now you killed my brother you Barcode prick. And I don't give a flying shit what Kaiser says. That crap doesn't go unanswered."
He stood, and Daniel saw him beginning to make his way to Taylor.
The man's mind went white with fear.
He struggled, cutting his wound wider with the knife still stuck in his hand.
"That fat cripple was your brother?"
The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them, and watching the man stop and turn to him rather than Taylor, desperation made the decision rather easy in Daniel's mind.
"You shoulda heard the fat fuck squealing before he went." He somehow found it in him to laugh, even if it was tinged with a notable edge of hysteria. "No," he mocked in a higher pitch. "No stop!"
Again, he laughed.
The man was looking like he was just gonna pull out a gun and shoot him, but Daniel Hebert found it in him to laugh.
"Never thought it'd be so easy to beat a cripple to death hahaha"
As the man advanced on him again, Danny heard Taylor scream.
And all he could do was keep on laughing!
3:17 PM:
Daniel Hebert nodded, his ear pressed to the phone. "Yes. Yes I understand. Is there anything I have to do? Something I have to sign?"
…
"I see." He nodded. "Thank you."
He hung the phone back onto its cradle and sighed a deep, relieved breath.
When he turned, he was surprised to see Taylor standing just a hand's breadth away. He hadn't even heard her drawing close. "Oh, hey hon-"
"What's going on?" She asked, straight to the point, eyes shining with concern.
He shook his head. "Good news actually. The state won't be pressing charges, the DA finds it to be a clear cut case of defense of others."
Taylor shifted from foot to foot.
Danny looked at her. "Hun? Something wrong?"
"I... " She sighed. "I don't know, I feel like I should apologize."
"Apologize?"
"I mean...yeah you're getting called by the DA with them talking about criminal charges, getting harassed at work-"
"Hey!" He interrupted, rounding on her enough to place both hands on her shoulders.
"Look at me," he insisted, meeting her eyes through the rim of her glasses. "It's because of you we saw anything that night. We saved that girl and that's something you should never feel sorry about. Am I clear? You did a good thing. And I won't let anyone say anything different. Not even you, kiddo."
He smiled a bit at his own joke, but it fell rather flat as Taylor didn't smile back.
He sighed. "Look. Yes the DA considered pressing charges but only as a preliminary consideration. Now that he's heard everything he is completely dropping the charges. And I wasn't harassed at my work I was asked questions by one asian gang member. I pointed the finger at the E-88 and they're a lot more mad at them than they are at me. Everything is fine. Me having a bad day or two is a small price to pay for that girl to be alright Taylor."
She nodded, the movement jerky and broken as though she was forcing herself to do so.
The truth was, he could understand.
She was scared for him.
And even though he was putting up a strong front he was terrified for her.
One of those men got away.
Gangsters could talk. And in a city as relatively small as Brockton Bay, word was going to get around and he wasn't exactly an unknown figure.
When Taylor went back to school in a few weeks… if one of those gangsters got it in their head to get revenge on her…
Maybe he should call Emma, ask her to keep an eye out for trouble?
The girls had grown a little distant since Annette's death, but surely Emma would look out for Taylor in this situation for the first few weeks after they got back to school.
He took a breath. "Hey. Whaddaya-say we go out to eat? It's your pick." He smirked. "I'll even take you to that sushi place down by fourth that you like so much"
She smiled back a little.
He just then that it had been a long time since he'd seen her smile.
"Dad. You hate raw fish."
He shrugged. "Yeah well I gotta take you some place nice. Not every day your little girl rescues a hero."
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
6:03 PM:
As promised they drove to the sushi place, Taylor ordered her favorite dish, something he didn't even bother to learn to pronounce. He stuck with just about the only thing he found at least mildly palatable since it was cooked. Eel fried rice.
He didn't want to know what parts were the eel. Ignorance is bliss and all that.
As far as taste went, he didn't think it was worth even half of what he paid.
But it put a smile on Taylor's face. She let him see it too.
And that was worth every penny in his book.
As they made it out of the restaurant and back into his beat-up old truck, he started the guttering engine with a wince. He really needed to take a look under the hood soon.
Pulling out of the parking lot, he drove down the block, letting the silence fall between his daughter and himself once again.
He took a deep breath.
"Hey," he ventured as he came to a stop at a red light. "Do you think th-"
*CRASH!*
The impact nearly snapped his neck, the sheer whiplash crunching the side of his skull into the window hard enough to crack it, his arms were ripped from the steering wheel, left elbow crunching into the door arm rest as his glasses flew off of his eyes.
The acrid smell of burnt rubber flooded his nostrils, the pain over his face and chest burned!
He groaned out an intelligible sound of pain as his vision swam, caught between the fugue in the space between alert and dazed.
The white of the airbag was all he could see. Limp and empty…
That explained the burning pain… airbag residue…
"Ta-" He coughed, a lump of pain choking him mid word. "Taylor!" He turned, searching for his daughter.
Moving...She was moving…
Thank god!
Then he heard the door snap open.
The brief belief it was someone that came to help them was cut abruptly short as the growl cut through his swimming thoughts like a knife-
"Come here you little shit!"
"DAD!"
Every dazed sense in his mind sprang to full alert!, his blurry vision taking in the scene of a man with a ski-mask reaching into the car to grab his little girl! Pulling her out by her arm and hair!
"TAYLOR!" He roared, all but leaping across the length of the front seat to punch the bastard square in the face, his long, gangly limbs allowing him to feel the crunch of the attacker's nose as his reach took him completely by surprise.
He didn't let go of Taylor, and as he fell back he yanked on her hair, making her scream as Danny's door opened behind him.
Someone grabbed at his legs, and Danny kicked like a wild beast, trying to buck and shove his way across to the passenger seat to get at the other son of a bitch holding onto his daughter.
But they pulled him, yanked him almost full out of his door, and Danny saw red.
The dockworker union manager roared like a madman, eyes wild and face red with a blind rage that all but let him bodily lift a man twice his size and shoving him into the door of the car that crashed into them.
The man punched him, landing solid, brutal hits into Danny's stomach and cheek and Danny barely even felt the pain, grabbing onto the man's hair through the mask and slamming his head into the steel of the car door over and over and over again!
A pain lanced up his spine and adrenalin or not Danny still fell to his knees, his target falling with him, a puppet with his strings cut.
He turned, looking over his shoulder in time to only catch the black blur of something being swung at him before it cracked him across the face.
He something rattle in his mouth, and only distantly realized it was a tooth as he swallowed it.
He tasted metal.
The last thing Daniel Hebert heard before the blow that knocked him out came, was his daughter screaming at the other side of the truck.
(X)(X)(X)
When Danny woke up it was to the sharp, brutal sting of smelling salts.
"Barcode's not dead. Haha!" Someone laughed in front of him, the yellow light bulb hanging from a string in a bare, spartan room
"Damn right he's not," someone else said, and Danny's quickly clearing vision found the sight of two men who must have been Empire-88. They had bandanas over their faces, but their scalps were bare and their tattoos on display.
He tried to move, feeling the wires digging harshly into the flesh of his wrist, ankles similarly bound to a sturdy metal chair.
"Ta-Taylor?!" He called panning his eyes around the room.
Four bare walls and a staircase was all he could see. Some kind of basement, or a cellar, no windows that he could find. Behind the two skinheads Danny could see a camera with a mess of wires and cables nearly tangled as they trailed over to a laptop that was sitting on an empty paint drum.
When he finally saw Taylor his heart dropped.
She was bound, just like he was, only with ropes rather than wires, small mercies. Gagged so she couldn't scream, he could see the trails of tears down her eyes and the bruise forming on her face.
She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, her teeth biting down on the gag like she was trying to chew straight through it, pulling and tugging at her binds even as they rubbed and scraped her skin raw and red with the coarse rope.
"Hey! Hey!" The first skinhead that spoke saw her, walking over. "Hey, you cut that shit out or I start cutting off fingers and toes girlie!"
"You son of a bitch you stay away from her, you hear me!" Danny shouted.
Suddenly, there was a knife trailing along his cheek.
"Ya see, now that's real interestin'." The second skinhead whispered. "Don't like it when someone threatens your family huh? Don't like it when someone does somethin' to em?"
Daniel panted through his nose like a winded dog, his chest heaving and shaking with the excess adrenaline pouring through his system as he tried to get his breathing under control, staring into the man's eyes.
"Look…" He began hoping his next statement was true in Taylor's case. "We haven't seen your faces. Neither of us have seen your faces. This doesn't-"
"Oh," the man kneeling in front of him drawled, before reaching to his bandanna and pulling it off with little preamble.
Daniel suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were going to die down here.
"Well here, now ya have. Name's Derek. Nice to fuckin meet ya."
Then the knife was driven straight through Daniel's palm to nail the limb to the tin chair beneath it!
His scream of pain could have woken the dead, and Taylor's own cry on his behalf barely even registered.
He looked down, looking at a hand that shook with the effort to keep still, red hot blood gushing from the wound to stain the metal and bloom up around the knife to drench the back of his hand, wrist and fingers.
The skinhead… Derek, knelt down infront of him, his face devoid of expression. "Now you killed my brother you Barcode prick. And I don't give a flying shit what Kaiser says. That crap doesn't go unanswered."
He stood, and Daniel saw him beginning to make his way to Taylor.
The man's mind went white with fear.
He struggled, cutting his wound wider with the knife still stuck in his hand.
"That fat cripple was your brother?"
The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them, and watching the man stop and turn to him rather than Taylor, desperation made the decision rather easy in Daniel's mind.
"You shoulda heard the fat fuck squealing before he went." He somehow found it in him to laugh, even if it was tinged with a notable edge of hysteria. "No," he mocked in a higher pitch. "No stop!"
Again, he laughed.
The man was looking like he was just gonna pull out a gun and shoot him, but Daniel Hebert found it in him to laugh.
"Never thought it'd be so easy to beat a cripple to death hahaha"
As the man advanced on him again, Danny heard Taylor scream.
And all he could do was keep on laughing!
0.6
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
December 23rd, 2010
9:47 PM:
Max Anders:
When the phone rang, his eyes didn't open. However, being well accustomed to calls in the middle of the night his voice was sharp and devoid of the grogginess of sleep. "Speak."
When he received a response that's when his eyes opened. "What!?"
Throwing off the silk sheets of his bed the man known as Kaiser felt the beginnings of anger simmering out from his gut.
"This better be some kind of joke Krieg."
He walked out of his room, the glass sliding door all but cracking against the wall as he threw it open, walking as fast as he could to his home office, the leader of the E-88 and CEO of Medhall Corporation turned on his computer, pacing across the floor as he waited for the damn thing to boot up.
"You're sure?" He growled. "Where? What do you mean you don't know!?"
His lips curled, a mounting anger seething through his whole body. "Find out!" He snarled. "Now!"
The damn computer finally came to life, typing in his password, his desktop came up.
"Give me the name of the site." He demanded as he opened up his browser.
Typing it in he was soon looking at the grainy, near lagging video.
Kaiser grit his teeth, watching as one of his men -his- men who should have been following -his- orders, circled around another man who was strapped to a chair.
Bloodied, beaten, Max could see another person at the edge of the screen, her profile just barely visible in the low quality stream.
He looked at the time stamp on the top corner.
Forty two minutes, seventeen seconds.
This has been going on right under his nose for nearly an hour!?
He put his phone back into his ear as he watched the man wrench the knife out of Daniel Hebert's hand.
"Find them." He demanded again.. "Wake up Victor, Cricket, Hookwolf, Alabaster. One of them has been lax in making my orders explicitly clear in their stretch of territory. Tell them they have ten minutes to fix this. If it takes any longer I am going to deal with both it and whoever's fuckup this is. Now Krieg!"
He all but crushed the phone in his grip before his fury got the better of him and he threw it across the room to send it hurtling across the room to shatter one of his sliding glass doors into a million pieces.
He left the computer on as he left his office, to his bathroom to shower and get himself dressed. Ten minutes or not, he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
9:52 PM:
Colin
Armsmaster's fingers flew over the keyboard, fingers click-click clicking with a sound like a rapid fire machine gun across the room.
He'd been just about ready to fall asleep when the call came in, the alert pulling him from every last vestige of weariness as the details became known.
The video itself was on a side screen. Daniel Hebert had, so far, been beaten with bare fists, his right hand had been run through with a bowie knife and the other had been hammered to a bloody mess. The Nazi had taken a red brick and beaten his fingers against the metal chair until they were a mangled mess of meat and broken bones.
Then he'd gotten tired, taken a seat… Had a fucking cigarette!
It was disgusting and repulsive but it was a relief, the extra minutes it had provided him with to try and crack the websites encryption.
Not for the first time, did Armsmaster remember how much he loathed the Gesellschaft.
Only they had the resources to have a website encryption strong enough to give him any sort of trouble while also streaming the video to multiple american public sites.
He'd already sent a high priority message to Dragon and she was simultaneously assaulting the website on its European servers while he took down the ones here. The simultaneous hack should crack it wide open.
As fast as he was, Dragon was faster, and he felt so incredibly inadequate, even though he intellectually knew his assistance was cutting the required time down she would have taken to do this on her own in a fraction of what would otherwise be needed.
Every time the man seemed like he would turn his attention to Taylor Hebert, even for a moment Daniel Hebert would choke out some kind of taunt.
The man's courage was admirable, but all Armsmaster's instruments and experience was telling him his body was rapidly losing the fight for survival. The number of blows and the force behind them, the sheer damage to his left hand alone should have put him into shock.
And still, if by nothing other than sheer spite, the man kept himself conscious. Once even managing to spit in the face of his attacker.
If this kept up for much longer however…
When he heard Taylor screaming through her gag again, Colin turned off the sound, gritting his teeth to focus on his work.
His earpiece crackled. "Colin!"
"Did you find anything!?" He asked, almost desperately
"Found some of the E-88 men. Made them talk. They pointed to Hookwolf's stretch of warehouses and factories by the trainyards!"
"Could be a decoy." He warned.
Even so he began focusing his efforts on triangulating the signal in those towers.
"I know. But I doubt it"
"Why?" He already knew but he wanted to hear it.
Take at least the smallest bit of satisfaction.
She didn't disappoint.
"I made sure they weren't inclined to lie to me. By the way, call three ambulances down by Carwell and seventh."
"After I'm done." He sneered, then switched channels. "Dragon, we have a lead, it might be over by Hookwolf's territory on the east side"
"Prioritizing."
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
10:01 PM:
Bradley Meadows:
The tires of his bike squealed as he made a sharp left turn, the chopper mounting the curb to cut the corner, four of his men right behind him and cutting their way through the traffic that beeped their horns, angry and shouting curses at them.
Bradley took one hand off the handlebars, pressing his phone to his ear, greasy blond hair whipping him in the face.
"Kaiser here."
"We found em," he snarled, shouting over the roar of his own motorcycle engine, the beeping of horns and the rush of the wind. "On our way right now. They're two of Cricket's boy's! One of them is the brother of the stump that the Jew clubbed to death."
"Where are they?"
"Stash house down by the docks. I'll deal with it."
"No. You bring them -To. Me.- Am I being clear?"
"Crystal." He swore.
Hanging up the phone he put it in his jacket pocket, before tugging on the throttle.
They didn't have a lot of time, PRT and police were already moving. They couldn't look too incompetent.
Get in, grab the fuckers, maybe untie the two Heebs and get the fuck out of dodge quick.
He could probably tackle the Protectorate for maybe a few minutes, even if alone and with them in force.
He was good, but he wasn't stupid.
They swerved and navigated through the streets, swallowing red lights and nearly running over a few pedestrians as they had to mount the sidewalk to make the best time.
When they finally made it to the trainyards the traffic and pedestrians vanished entirely and their speed reached nearly ninety miles per hour on the bare, gravel covered stretch of dirt where the trains were dead and still for the better part of a decade now.
When the stash house finally came in sight, his tires squealed again as he came to a stop, and he barely even put the rest down as he dismounted the bike and half walked, half ran to the door, his men right behind him, guns and rifles at the ready.
He turned the knob, finding it locked.
He pressed the intercom button. "You fucks have to the count of three to open this fucking door."
Pulling his finger back he paced once to the left, and one to the right. "Three."
A second later half of the front of the warehouse was shredded open in a whirl of scything, screeching blades.
(X)(X)(X)
When the door was kicked open, the fucking cunts actually had the nerve to look surprised.
"Were you two fucks actually stupid enough to think this would fucking fly?"
"H-hook-"
He pulled out a gun and in less than a blink he shot out Derek's right kneecap.
The man screamed. The shower of gore that quickly slicked the floor with red
"I didn't say you could talk," he snarled through his metal mask. The men behind him entered the room as the other idiot backed up against the wall, hands raised.
He stepped forward and with a harsh kick, he toppled the camera over, all but yanking the laptop off its place over a paint drum to hear it crack against the cement floor.
Derek screamed and hissed on the ground, clutching at his leg as he kept on bleeding.
Brad looked to the two Heberts.
"Un-fucking-tie 'em and let's get the fuck outa here."
Two of his men went to obey, the other two moving to grad Derek and his partner.
One of his boys, Brian, the one that went for the Hebert girl, actually spoke softly at the jew. Holstering his rifle behind him. "Hey." He heard. "Hey it's ok. It's over now, ok?"
Brad shook his head.
Stupid shit. Did he actually expect to be thanked?
"Hey boss, problem."
He looked to Harvey, the one kneeling in front of the half-dead heeb. "What?"
"Barcode's dead boss."
Scratch that. All-dead heeb.
"Fuck em," he said, already hearing the sirens. "Lets book it. Get the hell out of here."
He turned, taking a step to the door when he heard a thud.
Brian had just fallen over.
Hook looked to the girl, wrists and ankles rubbed red and raw by the ropes, dark hair hanging over her face and shoulders, enveloping her gaze in dark, long shadows.
The world around him turned blood red
The last thing the camera saw from its place on the ground, was the masked face of the Empire cape Hookwolf, collapse right in front of it.
(X)(X)(X)
Ok then, we are done with the prologue chapters, now we go to current events from this point forward
9:47 PM:
Max Anders:
When the phone rang, his eyes didn't open. However, being well accustomed to calls in the middle of the night his voice was sharp and devoid of the grogginess of sleep. "Speak."
When he received a response that's when his eyes opened. "What!?"
Throwing off the silk sheets of his bed the man known as Kaiser felt the beginnings of anger simmering out from his gut.
"This better be some kind of joke Krieg."
He walked out of his room, the glass sliding door all but cracking against the wall as he threw it open, walking as fast as he could to his home office, the leader of the E-88 and CEO of Medhall Corporation turned on his computer, pacing across the floor as he waited for the damn thing to boot up.
"You're sure?" He growled. "Where? What do you mean you don't know!?"
His lips curled, a mounting anger seething through his whole body. "Find out!" He snarled. "Now!"
The damn computer finally came to life, typing in his password, his desktop came up.
"Give me the name of the site." He demanded as he opened up his browser.
Typing it in he was soon looking at the grainy, near lagging video.
Kaiser grit his teeth, watching as one of his men -his- men who should have been following -his- orders, circled around another man who was strapped to a chair.
Bloodied, beaten, Max could see another person at the edge of the screen, her profile just barely visible in the low quality stream.
He looked at the time stamp on the top corner.
Forty two minutes, seventeen seconds.
This has been going on right under his nose for nearly an hour!?
He put his phone back into his ear as he watched the man wrench the knife out of Daniel Hebert's hand.
"Find them." He demanded again.. "Wake up Victor, Cricket, Hookwolf, Alabaster. One of them has been lax in making my orders explicitly clear in their stretch of territory. Tell them they have ten minutes to fix this. If it takes any longer I am going to deal with both it and whoever's fuckup this is. Now Krieg!"
He all but crushed the phone in his grip before his fury got the better of him and he threw it across the room to send it hurtling across the room to shatter one of his sliding glass doors into a million pieces.
He left the computer on as he left his office, to his bathroom to shower and get himself dressed. Ten minutes or not, he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
9:52 PM:
Colin
Armsmaster's fingers flew over the keyboard, fingers click-click clicking with a sound like a rapid fire machine gun across the room.
He'd been just about ready to fall asleep when the call came in, the alert pulling him from every last vestige of weariness as the details became known.
The video itself was on a side screen. Daniel Hebert had, so far, been beaten with bare fists, his right hand had been run through with a bowie knife and the other had been hammered to a bloody mess. The Nazi had taken a red brick and beaten his fingers against the metal chair until they were a mangled mess of meat and broken bones.
Then he'd gotten tired, taken a seat… Had a fucking cigarette!
It was disgusting and repulsive but it was a relief, the extra minutes it had provided him with to try and crack the websites encryption.
Not for the first time, did Armsmaster remember how much he loathed the Gesellschaft.
Only they had the resources to have a website encryption strong enough to give him any sort of trouble while also streaming the video to multiple american public sites.
He'd already sent a high priority message to Dragon and she was simultaneously assaulting the website on its European servers while he took down the ones here. The simultaneous hack should crack it wide open.
As fast as he was, Dragon was faster, and he felt so incredibly inadequate, even though he intellectually knew his assistance was cutting the required time down she would have taken to do this on her own in a fraction of what would otherwise be needed.
Every time the man seemed like he would turn his attention to Taylor Hebert, even for a moment Daniel Hebert would choke out some kind of taunt.
The man's courage was admirable, but all Armsmaster's instruments and experience was telling him his body was rapidly losing the fight for survival. The number of blows and the force behind them, the sheer damage to his left hand alone should have put him into shock.
And still, if by nothing other than sheer spite, the man kept himself conscious. Once even managing to spit in the face of his attacker.
If this kept up for much longer however…
When he heard Taylor screaming through her gag again, Colin turned off the sound, gritting his teeth to focus on his work.
His earpiece crackled. "Colin!"
"Did you find anything!?" He asked, almost desperately
"Found some of the E-88 men. Made them talk. They pointed to Hookwolf's stretch of warehouses and factories by the trainyards!"
"Could be a decoy." He warned.
Even so he began focusing his efforts on triangulating the signal in those towers.
"I know. But I doubt it"
"Why?" He already knew but he wanted to hear it.
Take at least the smallest bit of satisfaction.
She didn't disappoint.
"I made sure they weren't inclined to lie to me. By the way, call three ambulances down by Carwell and seventh."
"After I'm done." He sneered, then switched channels. "Dragon, we have a lead, it might be over by Hookwolf's territory on the east side"
"Prioritizing."
(X)(X)(X)
December 23rd, 2010
10:01 PM:
Bradley Meadows:
The tires of his bike squealed as he made a sharp left turn, the chopper mounting the curb to cut the corner, four of his men right behind him and cutting their way through the traffic that beeped their horns, angry and shouting curses at them.
Bradley took one hand off the handlebars, pressing his phone to his ear, greasy blond hair whipping him in the face.
"Kaiser here."
"We found em," he snarled, shouting over the roar of his own motorcycle engine, the beeping of horns and the rush of the wind. "On our way right now. They're two of Cricket's boy's! One of them is the brother of the stump that the Jew clubbed to death."
"Where are they?"
"Stash house down by the docks. I'll deal with it."
"No. You bring them -To. Me.- Am I being clear?"
"Crystal." He swore.
Hanging up the phone he put it in his jacket pocket, before tugging on the throttle.
They didn't have a lot of time, PRT and police were already moving. They couldn't look too incompetent.
Get in, grab the fuckers, maybe untie the two Heebs and get the fuck out of dodge quick.
He could probably tackle the Protectorate for maybe a few minutes, even if alone and with them in force.
He was good, but he wasn't stupid.
They swerved and navigated through the streets, swallowing red lights and nearly running over a few pedestrians as they had to mount the sidewalk to make the best time.
When they finally made it to the trainyards the traffic and pedestrians vanished entirely and their speed reached nearly ninety miles per hour on the bare, gravel covered stretch of dirt where the trains were dead and still for the better part of a decade now.
When the stash house finally came in sight, his tires squealed again as he came to a stop, and he barely even put the rest down as he dismounted the bike and half walked, half ran to the door, his men right behind him, guns and rifles at the ready.
He turned the knob, finding it locked.
He pressed the intercom button. "You fucks have to the count of three to open this fucking door."
Pulling his finger back he paced once to the left, and one to the right. "Three."
A second later half of the front of the warehouse was shredded open in a whirl of scything, screeching blades.
(X)(X)(X)
When the door was kicked open, the fucking cunts actually had the nerve to look surprised.
"Were you two fucks actually stupid enough to think this would fucking fly?"
"H-hook-"
He pulled out a gun and in less than a blink he shot out Derek's right kneecap.
The man screamed. The shower of gore that quickly slicked the floor with red
"I didn't say you could talk," he snarled through his metal mask. The men behind him entered the room as the other idiot backed up against the wall, hands raised.
He stepped forward and with a harsh kick, he toppled the camera over, all but yanking the laptop off its place over a paint drum to hear it crack against the cement floor.
Derek screamed and hissed on the ground, clutching at his leg as he kept on bleeding.
Brad looked to the two Heberts.
"Un-fucking-tie 'em and let's get the fuck outa here."
Two of his men went to obey, the other two moving to grad Derek and his partner.
One of his boys, Brian, the one that went for the Hebert girl, actually spoke softly at the jew. Holstering his rifle behind him. "Hey." He heard. "Hey it's ok. It's over now, ok?"
Brad shook his head.
Stupid shit. Did he actually expect to be thanked?
"Hey boss, problem."
He looked to Harvey, the one kneeling in front of the half-dead heeb. "What?"
"Barcode's dead boss."
Scratch that. All-dead heeb.
"Fuck em," he said, already hearing the sirens. "Lets book it. Get the hell out of here."
He turned, taking a step to the door when he heard a thud.
Brian had just fallen over.
Hook looked to the girl, wrists and ankles rubbed red and raw by the ropes, dark hair hanging over her face and shoulders, enveloping her gaze in dark, long shadows.
The world around him turned blood red
The last thing the camera saw from its place on the ground, was the masked face of the Empire cape Hookwolf, collapse right in front of it.
(X)(X)(X)
Ok then, we are done with the prologue chapters, now we go to current events from this point forward
Last edited:
PHO- E-88 Revenge Video
♦Topic: E88 Revenge Video [NO LINKS]
In: Boards ► News ► Current Events ► America ► Brockton Bay
NightHawk Chaser (Original Poster) (Cape Husband)
Posted on December 24, 2010:
Ok, so, if you use this web search, you should be able to find a site that is hosting the E88's video. That should be enough of a separation to not break the rules and get this thread taken down like the last three. Normally, I'm opposed to the mods trying to censor specific videos from being shown if they are already public, but this time, given how graphic that video got, I think I can support it.
For those of you who just woke up, or haven't been paying attention, the basic idea is that two people, a man and his daughter, got on the wrong side of the Empire over in Brockton Bay. (Until their names are announced on the news, I'm going to respect the girl's privacy and not name names. If you want to risk the mods wrath to do so, don't blame me.) From what I've gathered, they rescued some hero from a group of E88 skinheads, killing some of the skinheads in the process, and one of their "victims" brother grabbed them to get revenge.
From there, it gets graphic. The dad basically taunts the Empire grunts with every insult he can to keep their attention on him. It...he lasts a long time. Finally, the cavalry arrives in the form of Hookwolf, one of the E88's own capes, as apparently this was an "unsanctioned" hate crime. It's just past the hour mark on most of the videos I've seen up, when he tears in through the wall, berates the torturers, and gets ready to bug out.
Then, the girl stands up, and everyone dies.
So, go nuts, pour on the hate for the Empire or whatever. I'm going to go hug my own daughter.
(Showing Page 6 of 47)
► Marzipompom
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Oh boo fucking hoo. Wah, I'm Marco and this video has ruined my Christmas. That girl had to live through it! If you want to complain, go do it somewhere where the rest of us don't have to see how pathetic you are.
► Northend_King
Replied on December 24, 2010:
So, can anyone confirm that the girl is ok? Not going to ask anyone to name names, but...
► MrPigWitch
Replied on December 24, 2010:
I sure hope so. She's a goddamn hero, for taking that piece of shit Hookwolf down permanently.
► Lover of Brit
Replied on December 24, 2010:
How could u?! that girl's been through so much, and your focusing on the bloood on her hansd?
► XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on December 24, 2010:
[Deleted - Until they are publically identified, we will not allow public identification of the victims here. Try again and it will be another temp-ban for you. - Tin_Mother]
► SpecificProtagonist
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Oh god... that's... oh god...
► #Hashtag#Defender
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Wow, that was fast. Mods are def paying attetion to this. My condolences to the girl, and I'd just like to say, props to the father. He protected her until the very end.
► LadyCicero (Cape Geek)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
It is stuff like this that is the reason I moved out of the big cities to begin with. So many people who band together, thinking they are above the law, and it is the little guys who suffer.
► Bladeblur (Unverified Cape)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Well well well, looks like it's Open Season on Nazis. Might have to make a cross country trip to help show them why this is not acceptable.
[Warning - This is toeing the line as far as threats and inciting violence. As utterly despicable as what happened is, make sure to stick to the rules. - VagariousAugry]
► WB37173
Replied on December 24, 2010:
I hope the Protectorate comes down on them hard.
End of Page. 1, ... 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, ... 47
---
Here is my initial attempt at a PHO Omake. If anyone wants to write up the discussion for another page of this thread, feel free to add on.
Edit: Oh, and sorry to @Smugraptor for Imp'ing you.
In: Boards ► News ► Current Events ► America ► Brockton Bay
NightHawk Chaser (Original Poster) (Cape Husband)
Posted on December 24, 2010:
Ok, so, if you use this web search, you should be able to find a site that is hosting the E88's video. That should be enough of a separation to not break the rules and get this thread taken down like the last three. Normally, I'm opposed to the mods trying to censor specific videos from being shown if they are already public, but this time, given how graphic that video got, I think I can support it.
For those of you who just woke up, or haven't been paying attention, the basic idea is that two people, a man and his daughter, got on the wrong side of the Empire over in Brockton Bay. (Until their names are announced on the news, I'm going to respect the girl's privacy and not name names. If you want to risk the mods wrath to do so, don't blame me.) From what I've gathered, they rescued some hero from a group of E88 skinheads, killing some of the skinheads in the process, and one of their "victims" brother grabbed them to get revenge.
From there, it gets graphic. The dad basically taunts the Empire grunts with every insult he can to keep their attention on him. It...he lasts a long time. Finally, the cavalry arrives in the form of Hookwolf, one of the E88's own capes, as apparently this was an "unsanctioned" hate crime. It's just past the hour mark on most of the videos I've seen up, when he tears in through the wall, berates the torturers, and gets ready to bug out.
Then, the girl stands up, and everyone dies.
So, go nuts, pour on the hate for the Empire or whatever. I'm going to go hug my own daughter.
(Showing Page 6 of 47)
► Marzipompom
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Oh boo fucking hoo. Wah, I'm Marco and this video has ruined my Christmas. That girl had to live through it! If you want to complain, go do it somewhere where the rest of us don't have to see how pathetic you are.
► Northend_King
Replied on December 24, 2010:
So, can anyone confirm that the girl is ok? Not going to ask anyone to name names, but...
► MrPigWitch
Replied on December 24, 2010:
I sure hope so. She's a goddamn hero, for taking that piece of shit Hookwolf down permanently.
► Lover of Brit
Replied on December 24, 2010:
How could u?! that girl's been through so much, and your focusing on the bloood on her hansd?► XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on December 24, 2010:
[Deleted - Until they are publically identified, we will not allow public identification of the victims here. Try again and it will be another temp-ban for you. - Tin_Mother]
► SpecificProtagonist
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Oh god... that's... oh god...
► #Hashtag#Defender
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Wow, that was fast. Mods are def paying attetion to this. My condolences to the girl, and I'd just like to say, props to the father. He protected her until the very end.
► LadyCicero (Cape Geek)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
It is stuff like this that is the reason I moved out of the big cities to begin with. So many people who band together, thinking they are above the law, and it is the little guys who suffer.
► Bladeblur (Unverified Cape)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Well well well, looks like it's Open Season on Nazis. Might have to make a cross country trip to help show them why this is not acceptable.
[Warning - This is toeing the line as far as threats and inciting violence. As utterly despicable as what happened is, make sure to stick to the rules. - VagariousAugry]
► WB37173
Replied on December 24, 2010:
I hope the Protectorate comes down on them hard.
End of Page. 1, ... 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, ... 47
---
Here is my initial attempt at a PHO Omake. If anyone wants to write up the discussion for another page of this thread, feel free to add on.
Edit: Oh, and sorry to @Smugraptor for Imp'ing you.
Last edited:
PHO: 8th avenue
Nah, I plan to leave main character responses to LD. If the canon Madison response doesn't exactly fit SpecificProtag, then it is just someone else.
That said:
---
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■
♦Topic: Hookwolf, Thread Four
In: Boards ► News ► Villains ► America ► Brockton Bay
VagariousAugry (Original Poster) (Moderator)
Posted on September 23, 2009:
Alright, so the last thread both was overly bloated, and had descended into a general hatefest, so we had a quick hammering session and are now opening another thread. Remember, this thread is specifically for factual information purposes only. Threats, baseless speculation, and *shudder* shipping are not allowed.
Hookwolf is a villain, associated with the Empire Eighty-Eight, a white supremacist gang based in Brockton Bay. He is officially listed as a Brute 7, Changer 4. His power is to shapeshift into a whirling mass of metal blades. He commonly takes the form of a wolf. A map of the areas he is commonly sighted can be found here (thanks goes to Norville_Walker for putting the Villain Sighting Maps together).
Edit: Map updated as of 06/25/2010.
(Showing Page 92 of 94)
► Mansangno
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Look, until the official announcement goes out, don't go assuming he is actually dead. Yeah, we saw him collapse, but that could just mean he is incapacitated. Remember, he's broken out of Birdcage transports, by himself, twice!
► MrPigWitch
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Which is why the first reposne of those on the ground should be to fill him full of lead. Don't take any chances.
► MadAtYou (Cape Groupie)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Look, matter can neither be created or destroyed, so all of that metal that he makes has to have come from somewhere. You don't get to be a villain of his level without being shot at, so I doubt filling him full of lead is going to do much more than let him generate more metal.
► MrPigWitch
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Then throw him on the electric chair. No one is actually invinsible, you just have to try hard enough to kill them.
► Louie The Stooge (PRT Agent)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Word hasn't broken yet, but it's coming, so I'm just going to say it. Hookwolf is dead. Confirmed, bagged, tagged, ready for disposal. This might get me in trouble, but I've known several good men and women that he ripped to pieces, so I'm going to get in early to say good riddance to bad rubbish.
► GRS777
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Watch the tone. The Wolf of Blades may have been monstrous in shape, but he had a warrior's honor. That death was beneath him.
► Louie The Stooge (PRT Agent)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
F*** you! He was a raging butcher, and he deserved exactly what he got. Death.
► Tin_Mother (Moderator)
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Official Warning - Keep things civil. As good as it is to know that a villain like Hookwolf is off the streets, this thread is not for arguing or debate. Take it to the Brockton Bay Events Discussion thread if you want to argue.
► GRS777
Replied on December 24, 2010:
I thought the moderators were supposed to be neutral, but it seems I am once again proven wrong. I am not condoning the atrocity that was committed, but men like Hookwolf and [Temp-Ban - You were told to cease, and we are still not allowing release of the names of the victims from the E88 video yet. Take 24 hours to cool yourself off. - Tin_Mother]
► edgar1175
Replied on December 24, 2010:
Good riddance. To both Hookwolf and those supporting him.
End of Page. 1 ..., 90, 91, 92, 93, 94
■
New Replies to Private Messages
Subject: For Danny
*NEW* edgar1175: It's no good. They aren't letting anyone see her except family, and she doesn't have any in the Bay.
*NEW* edgar1175: Memorial raising of a toast to Danny at Longman's Bar, then a -peaceful- drive through 8th Avenue. You in?
---
Craig Bronson, occasional shift supervisor for the Dockworker's Union, only had to consider for a moment before typing his reply.
craig28843: I'm in.
---
*NON-CANON ALERT* 8th Avenue is a local term for a stretch of neighborhoods that are well-known as Empire Territory.
Last edited:
0.7
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
0.7:
The December air was cold. Freezing. He could see his breath frosting in the air, and his exposed face going a little numb now that the adrenaline had a chance to die down.
He looked to Taylor, who wore nothing but a blood soaked jacket and jeans that seemed to be as thin as gossamer, her pale face, what little of it he could see, had tear stains that must have made it colder still.
He wanted to offer her a jacket but he had nothing on him. Nothing but his costume.
Too late to save her father, too late to help her, and now he was here he couldn't even offer her a fucking jacket!
He turned away, feeling so out of his depth, so wanting, so… inadequate, it was almost a palpable sense of shame roiling in his gut.
Down below there were two police cars, along with one PRT van along with Colin.
He knew Colin was planning to use that grappling hook thing to string himself up and catch her mid fall should he fail. But he wasn't sure what exactly the agents and cops were supposed to do if they weren't the negotiators. Did they just come to watch a show or something?
Their presence wasn't a reassurance, it was a distraction and he honestly wished they would all just leave.
They just seemed to make this whole thing so much worse, compounded the grave seriousness of it all in a way that set him on edge.
More would be arriving soon, and he hoped the damn negotiator would be with them.
He looked to the sobbing girl, floundering like a fish out of water for anything to say to her.
His shield and sword in situations like this was humor. It either threw people off guard or angered them enough to make mistakes, not pay attention, make them sloppy.
That wouldn't help him here.
All he could say, all he could think of were the words he knew in his heart to be one hundred percent true.
'It wasn't your fault.'
But in this case the truth was just… insufficient.
It wasn't enough, not for her. Not for this.
"English is a rather limited language" He'd heard Alexandria comment once.
He didn't agree then.
Now he knew what she meant.
He shifted in his place on the ledge.
When he looked back to her, drawing his eyes away from the gathering assortment of law enforcement below he saw her head had turned, her eyes aimed down.
Not down to the ledge. But down to the street below.
His heart leapt into his throat.
And insufficient or not, the words were out of his mouth before he could think of them-
"Nothing that happened tonight was on you!" He nearly shouted, bracing himself to jump at a moment's notice.
Please no. He thought, begging her, or any god that might exist or even bothered to listen.
IF he grabbed her, and IF he hit the ground first with her on top of him he might be able to save her. He'd never directly tried to redirect kinetic energy from another body.
Those were very big ifs that he was not comfortable in testing right now.
He looked down, trying to subtly shift inch by miserable inch closer to close the gap without warning her.
"The empire, Kaiser, hell even we are more responsible for what happened tonight than you are Taylor," he said. He might get in trouble for it later but if Piggot gave him any shit for it he might just up and quit. It was her decision that made this happen in the first place.
"But I was the one that saw her," she cried. "I was the one that told dad and told him we had to help...If I hadn't said anything-"
He shook his head "Then Stalker would have been burnt alive. I know it's not enough for you, you love your father more than you love Stalker and he was more important to you but you just did a good thing, a good thing. And I know your father felt that way about it too! And neither you nor your father deserved this! Don't make this worse by doing something you don't want to do!"
He was blathering, talking so fast his words came out in a rush, all but clumping together mid speech as they tripped over themselves on his lips to try and be heard first, all the while wondering if he should inch forward or stay perfectly still.
"Why shouldn't I?" She asked, voice so quiet it was almost lost on the wind. "Why shouldn't I do this? Want this? Mom's dead. Dad's dead. Emma...Now I can't even look at people in the face anymore!"
"All powers are at their most dangerous during someone's trigger Taylor." He said, latching onto the one rebuttal he could safely make, not knowing anything about this girl's history. "All of them. Miss Militia almost blew up a village full of people and Battery crippled a man." He was exaggerating but he didn't care.
"Almost," she answered after a moment. "I...I killed…" She trailed off.
Shit the girl was sharp. Either that or he was worse at this than he thought. Maybe both."We don't know how your power works or what it can do; we can help you. And if it is that bad we can still help you. Tinker technology can do a lot to help. There's even power nullification capes Taylor," he insisted, trying to veer the subject away from the sudden fatalism. He looked down, the very periphery of his sight catching the red blur that was Velocity rushing up the road.
He looked back at the girl...wishing to god she could look at him. That he could see her expressions, gauge how his words were affecting her, see her eyes and know if she was too far buried in the grief to hear him.
He swallowed. "Taylor… please come off of here," he said, knowing he probably broke like ten rules on the negotiator guidebook or something. "This isn't what you want. It's not what anyone wants."
Like an epiphany, it hit him.
"Your father wouldn't want this…"
The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
It was too soon, the wound too raw, and as Taylor whimpered where she sat, fingers rising to curl in her dark tresses of hair he only became more convinced that he'd made a mistake.
But… he didn't know what else to say.
"It's why he tried so hard to protect you!" He said. "It's why he wanted to save you. If he saved you, and you do this-"
"He shouldn't have." She cried. "I could have taken it. I would have been ok. He should have...he should have just…"
She broke down, and her sobs cut through the night like a blade.
Assault found he only had one answer.
"He was your father."
There was a quiet between the two of them.
"I wasn't worth this…" She finally said. "I wasn't worth any of it. Not me."
She raised her head, just a bit, just enough that he was able to see her face.
"You were," he insisted. "Your father thought so, a-and if you jump, then everything he did to save you was a waste Taylor. You'll make his death pointless. I know you don't want that sweetheart- just…" He heard the squeal of the rooftop door opening. He didn't bother turning around to see who had walked up. "-come inside. Come inside and we can deal with all of this I promise."
"And how are you gonna deal with it, huh?" She hissed, moving to look at him before she caught herself and shut her eyes tightly and looked away.
Her scream of frustration cut his heart open then twisted in his gut as she cried.
Her breathing was harsh and heavy, grating like a winded dog as her clenched fists shook above her knees. "What are you gonna do?" She finally asked, in a voice thick with emotion. "Make it all better, bring him back, bring mom back? You can't fix anything..."
"I…" Shit, he was going to murder the fucking negotiator.
"You're right," he finally said. "I can't make it all better. And maybe I can't deal with it and fix everything, hell...I...I'm not even sure I can stop you from jumping but… god-" he breathed. "-You can't let this be the end of you." He shook his head, seemingly trying to convince himself as much as her. "You can't let it...can't let this beat you. Not only did your father not want it but. You deserve a hell of alot better than this. You deserve better than for this to be your last night. And if you jump you'll never have that. Never see it happen so...just come inside, please Taylor.
…
…
"We had sushi."
If there was anything he would have expected to hear, that was certainly not it.
"What?" He balked, worried that she'd somehow snapped and he was now even further out of his depth than he ever could have imagined.
"We had sushi." She repeated. "I like it… but he didn't. Never did. He wanted to make it special...why didn't I make him go somewhere else? He would have liked it more… wouldn't he?...I should have taken him somewhere else." She sobbed.
Deep, heaving cries.
Assault felt like he'd been punched in the gut, sucking down a sharp breath of his own and trailing his eyes up to the sky to avoid looking at her for a moment in order to compose himself.
…
He didn't know what else to say,
There was nothing for him to say. Nothing to make it right.
He knelt a bit, leaning forward, one hand on the ledge, the other held out towards her.
"Take my hand.."
His hand was right there, close enough for her to just reach out and grab.
"Please Taylor. Make it mean something..." His voice caught, an apple lodged in his throat.
A long, interminable moment passed between them.
Finally, she reached forward, and he felt the icy cold touch of her fingers into his glove.
(X)(X)(X)
Ok FINALLY done with the prologue arc:
Now, this chapter was a little complicated and went through two re-writes. At first, I started reading about negotiation techniques and things people say or do in order to talk people down and some articles were useful, but then, halfway through writing it the first time I realized:
Assault wouldn't know ANY of this, he's just a 'regular' guy trying to help this kid. So he can't go off knowing expert negotiating techniques, much less pulling them off by luck or happenstance.
Then I re-wrote it to have him make more mistakes but then on a second re-read it felt far too hamfisted.
Third time's the charm as they say and I think this one managed to strike a decent vibe of a regular person trying to help another in a bad way.
At any rate, I hope you all enjoy,
This is officially the end of the prologue arc.For the next chapter I would like to ask a question. (And again not promising anything) Do people WANT to see the Power testing process? Or should I move straight to the results of what they find? I can write either or, but seeing as how it's been 7 chapters/nearly 50 pages without much to go on other than Evil death glare of doom, I'm wondering if people want to get down to the nitty gritty or would like to see some of the minutiae?
Interlude: Gallant
LD1449
To the last; Kill them all
- Location
- The other side of the labyrinth.
Interlude: Gallant:
You didn't have to be an empath to gauge the mood of the room.
Sadness, frustration, disappointment, shame…
Anger.
He could feel them with his own senses, like...insects crawling over his skin, biting at his insides.
It was Christmas Eve and they were all sitting in this room, looking as though they'd just come back from a funeral.
Honestly… a funeral would have been preferable to...last night.
He hadn't gotten much sleep when he made it back home, he doubted anyone had, and despite that fact he was still wide awake, his attention drawn to these events to the point that he'd all but snuck away from his family and canceled a date with Vicky to come here.
He hadn't even needed to say why. She already knew that this is what had drawn his attention away, hadn't put up a fight at all.
The news hit in the morning and it was already making waves through the media.
Vicky knew about it, or at least as much as the news knew, so did his parents, hell, the whole city knew.
They didn't mention Taylor's name, but they did mention her father's, they also didn't blur their faces.
Bastards.
Now anyone with a working internet service, a television and two brain cells was going to know that Taylor Hebert was a parahuman and how exactly she became one.
In the span of a single, hour long video...her life was thrown into the proverbial meat grinder.
Even though all the others weren't here with him they were all calling, asking questions, wondering…
The only other Wards that were here were Triumph, the leader-in-name with just weeks left before he became a full protectorate hero; Aegis, the "actual" Ward captain now and Sophia.
Triumph and Aegis' emotions mirrored many of those in the room. Frustration, sadness, anger, and such.
Sophia's though…
It was a good thing she was three chairs away because if she were right next to him he might have just become ill from the rapidly shifting conflict of emotions warring within her every other second.
"Where the hell is Colin?"
It was Assault that spoke, pacing at the other end of the room. The normally laid back, easygoing hero was anxious beyond all measure, the bags under his eyes indicated he probably hadn't slept a wink. Militia was also here.
"Ethan." The star spangled cape called, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Please sit down. You're just making it worse on yourself."
He looked like he was about to answer when the door opened.
If they all looked like they'd come back from a funeral, Piggot looked like she'd just crawled out of her grave.
He could only have imagined the logistical nightmare she was facing right now.
The sheer *storm* of *shit* that was raining down over her head right now was bigger than anything he could remember, hell, bigger than anything that had affected the Bay since the creation of the Boat Graveyard as far as he knew.
The sneer on her face was a severe, loathsome thing. She didn't look at any of them as she marched into the room. Her face had a sickly sheen of sweat and her skin harbored an abnormal yellow tint.
Frustration and anger were the predominant emotions he could feel within her.
Colin marched in right behind her, his costume nowhere to be seen, in fact he was dressed in a plain white shirt and black jeans with black shoes. The man must have been ten times more exhausted than he looked for that to happen. In his entire tenure here, he could count on one hand all the occasions he's seen Armsmaster as Colin Wallis, including this occasion.
His emotions were… much more subdued… but...strange.
Piggot took a deep, slow breath through her nostrils.
"For the first order of business Mr. Wallis will deliver the preliminary findings of the team."
"Preliminary findings?" Triumph asked, turning to look at Colin as his emotions colored to the yellow of shock, run through with the hints of ruby red of anger. "You put her through power testing? Now?!"
Colin's emotions flared for a moment, allowing Gallant to notice the deep, near purple color of shame along with the slate grey of determination.
"Given the potential risk to the PRT agents currently supervising her, and to facilitate any potential contact with civilian visitors, I determined it was best to measure the level of danger her power presented."
"One day?" Assault snarled, bringing Gallant's attention to him.
The Ward winced.
The man was seething.
"You couldn't wait one fucking day?"
Colin closed his eyes, his face expressionless even as Gallant saw the purple hues of shame become stronger for a second before vanishing again. "I would rather be allowed to grant her visitors rather than forestall a procedure that would always have been necessary regardless."
Assault was still angry, but it was Piggot's orange flash of annoyance that cut through the room this time.
"Enough. It's done, Colin make your report on the team's preliminary findings please."
Without a word, Colin opened the file.
"Based on what we've seen, our initial assumption that Ms. Hebert's power caused an automatic death in the subject upon achieving eye-contact were...inaccurate."
"What exactly does she do then?" Aegis asked, a lime green of curiosity shining through him.
"From what we've gathered, When Miss Hebert achieve's eye contact she gains a sort of...control of the subject's nervous system."
Wait...so you mean like some kind of master?" Militia questioned. "Like Hijack or-"
"Not quite so absolute," he answered. "She cannot force someone to move or speak or such, but what she *can* do is gain complete control of the senses that the brain processes."
"She can make you see or feel anything she wants?" Aegis asked.
"So far, yes. She can."
"So she makes illusions?"
"Yes. If you wish to label it as such. It seems to be more complex than mere hallucinations."
"And...how did that kill seven people?" Gallant questioned, confused. "I mean...the five senses made them drop dead in a second?"
"It's unclear." He answered. "Their autopsies have revealed aneurysms that ruptured. How she achieved this, we still don't know., but for now, I believe it was her emotional state that let her achieve this. Not, necessarily, by some design on her part."
He turned the page. "She also seems to have two minor powers as a by-product. She can see people through walls, in the form of seeing the electrical discharges of their nervous systems, and perfect vision, our charts show that she is a match for Legend's visual test results. Once she gains sight of the subject's eyes the control lingers for an indeterminate amount of time, though she can release that control at will."
"Other than covering your eyes, what ways are there to stop it?" Triumph asked.
"So far, only blocking her sight seems to function," Colin clarified. "Giving her tinted goggles, tinker tech cameras, looking through mirrors… If Miss Hebert can see the subject's eyes in real time they will effectively be trapped within the illusion."
Colin's words made Gallant feel sick. So blocking her sight entirely is the only way to stop it. Unless everyone in the public starts using reflective sunglasses, she would, in effect, have to be blindfolded whenever she goes outside. Otherwise she could potentially capture hundreds of people. More if she has access to a real time camera network around her...
Well… that was… completely terrifying actually.
As if Taylor needed a power that would throw her life in even more upheaval. Gallant didn't know if there really was a God, but he decided that he was probably an asshole.
"She does however have a range limit." Colin specified.
Gallant felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as Colin turned the pages to search.
"Her range is approximately two hundred and seventy-seven feet. Once that threshold is passed her power over the subject vanishes almost entirely."
"Almost?" Piggot questioned.
"Yes. The second the subject returns to the fold, she can once again establish the illusion without requiring direct eye-contact. The only way to avoid this is for her to willingly remove the illusion. Then she would have to establish eye contact again to regain her previous control."
"Can she look someone in the eye without trapping them?"
"As far as we've seen? No. She doesn't have that control. Perhaps she will learn," he said. "But for now she is an uncontrolled Master designation. I am tentatively placing her under the rank of Master seven, thinker two."
"Thinker?" Triumph asked.
"The level of detail reported by the volunteer within her illusion was extraordinary, more information than any normal human mind could process and apply at real time."
Piggot nodded. "I see. Both animal and human tests were conducted?" She questioned.
"Mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, fish," Colin listed.
"All showed signs of her control. Insects however, did not, possibly because they don't have a normal nervous system." He commented turning to another page.
"Along with her perfect vision, it seems, though as of yet unconfirmed, that she has a heightened reaction time to anything that she can see coming.
Gallant caught the flash of...hesitation, a nebulous murky cloud around Colin's head.
Finally, he sighed.
"I believe Ms. Hebert knows how she achieved the death's of the seven Empire affiliated individuals, including Hookwolf."
"She's just not telling you." The annoyance rolling off of Piggot would have been obvious, even without his power.
"No. And given how recent the event I do not recommend we press the issue for the time being."
"I cannot have a Ward marching around the streets with an undocumented potential to kill people Colin."
"She's not a Ward yet."
The words made everyone stop, blinking for a moment as they wondered where they came from before they all turned to Assault who was glaring at Piggot.
"What was that."
"I said she's not a Ward yet, Piggot." He bit out every word, as clear as possible.
The director of the PRT turned to face the man. "Is there something you'd like to say?"
"Yeah. She's not a Ward. Need me to repeat it one more time? Before you and Colin here decide to go look for costumes and set up patrol routes for her, how about we let the kid breathe before you make us drag the truth out of her like someone we stick in an interrogation room. She's under no obligation to report to you, and she isn't a criminal so how about the both of you just. Back. Off." He looked pointedly at Colin before turning back to Piggot. "I'm sure I could find other people besides me that'll agree."
Gallant blinked and, in a second, the tension in the room nearly suffocated him. Ironically, the solace he took in this instance, was Sophia, who radiated amused satisfaction as Assault finished speaking.
"She is dangerous, Assault. Our first priority has to be the safety of the public."
"Really? Where in 'I cannot have a Ward marching around the streets' was the public safety part? Oh, right. It was after we established that you called dibbs on her like a tenth grader on the front seat. My mistake."
"I don't think I like your tone."
"I know I don't like yours."
"Alright! Enough!"
It was Militia that raised her voice, drawing all eyes to her as she leaned over the table. "This has been a long, long day for all of us. We're all high strung. So let's adjourn this and re-open the subject tomorrow." She looked to Colin. "Hand me the file. I'll read it. You're on duty so I'll talk tomorrow.
The tension in the room hadn't abated at all. And only after Colin pushed the file her way did Assault finally stand up and take his leave.
"I haven't dismissed you!" Piggot snarled.
"Tough fucking shit!"
If the man could have slammed the hydraulic door, he probably would have.
You didn't have to be an empath to gauge the mood of the room.
Sadness, frustration, disappointment, shame…
Anger.
He could feel them with his own senses, like...insects crawling over his skin, biting at his insides.
It was Christmas Eve and they were all sitting in this room, looking as though they'd just come back from a funeral.
Honestly… a funeral would have been preferable to...last night.
He hadn't gotten much sleep when he made it back home, he doubted anyone had, and despite that fact he was still wide awake, his attention drawn to these events to the point that he'd all but snuck away from his family and canceled a date with Vicky to come here.
He hadn't even needed to say why. She already knew that this is what had drawn his attention away, hadn't put up a fight at all.
The news hit in the morning and it was already making waves through the media.
Vicky knew about it, or at least as much as the news knew, so did his parents, hell, the whole city knew.
They didn't mention Taylor's name, but they did mention her father's, they also didn't blur their faces.
Bastards.
Now anyone with a working internet service, a television and two brain cells was going to know that Taylor Hebert was a parahuman and how exactly she became one.
In the span of a single, hour long video...her life was thrown into the proverbial meat grinder.
Even though all the others weren't here with him they were all calling, asking questions, wondering…
The only other Wards that were here were Triumph, the leader-in-name with just weeks left before he became a full protectorate hero; Aegis, the "actual" Ward captain now and Sophia.
Triumph and Aegis' emotions mirrored many of those in the room. Frustration, sadness, anger, and such.
Sophia's though…
It was a good thing she was three chairs away because if she were right next to him he might have just become ill from the rapidly shifting conflict of emotions warring within her every other second.
"Where the hell is Colin?"
It was Assault that spoke, pacing at the other end of the room. The normally laid back, easygoing hero was anxious beyond all measure, the bags under his eyes indicated he probably hadn't slept a wink. Militia was also here.
"Ethan." The star spangled cape called, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Please sit down. You're just making it worse on yourself."
He looked like he was about to answer when the door opened.
If they all looked like they'd come back from a funeral, Piggot looked like she'd just crawled out of her grave.
He could only have imagined the logistical nightmare she was facing right now.
The sheer *storm* of *shit* that was raining down over her head right now was bigger than anything he could remember, hell, bigger than anything that had affected the Bay since the creation of the Boat Graveyard as far as he knew.
The sneer on her face was a severe, loathsome thing. She didn't look at any of them as she marched into the room. Her face had a sickly sheen of sweat and her skin harbored an abnormal yellow tint.
Frustration and anger were the predominant emotions he could feel within her.
Colin marched in right behind her, his costume nowhere to be seen, in fact he was dressed in a plain white shirt and black jeans with black shoes. The man must have been ten times more exhausted than he looked for that to happen. In his entire tenure here, he could count on one hand all the occasions he's seen Armsmaster as Colin Wallis, including this occasion.
His emotions were… much more subdued… but...strange.
Piggot took a deep, slow breath through her nostrils.
"For the first order of business Mr. Wallis will deliver the preliminary findings of the team."
"Preliminary findings?" Triumph asked, turning to look at Colin as his emotions colored to the yellow of shock, run through with the hints of ruby red of anger. "You put her through power testing? Now?!"
Colin's emotions flared for a moment, allowing Gallant to notice the deep, near purple color of shame along with the slate grey of determination.
"Given the potential risk to the PRT agents currently supervising her, and to facilitate any potential contact with civilian visitors, I determined it was best to measure the level of danger her power presented."
"One day?" Assault snarled, bringing Gallant's attention to him.
The Ward winced.
The man was seething.
"You couldn't wait one fucking day?"
Colin closed his eyes, his face expressionless even as Gallant saw the purple hues of shame become stronger for a second before vanishing again. "I would rather be allowed to grant her visitors rather than forestall a procedure that would always have been necessary regardless."
Assault was still angry, but it was Piggot's orange flash of annoyance that cut through the room this time.
"Enough. It's done, Colin make your report on the team's preliminary findings please."
Without a word, Colin opened the file.
"Based on what we've seen, our initial assumption that Ms. Hebert's power caused an automatic death in the subject upon achieving eye-contact were...inaccurate."
"What exactly does she do then?" Aegis asked, a lime green of curiosity shining through him.
"From what we've gathered, When Miss Hebert achieve's eye contact she gains a sort of...control of the subject's nervous system."
Wait...so you mean like some kind of master?" Militia questioned. "Like Hijack or-"
"Not quite so absolute," he answered. "She cannot force someone to move or speak or such, but what she *can* do is gain complete control of the senses that the brain processes."
"She can make you see or feel anything she wants?" Aegis asked.
"So far, yes. She can."
"So she makes illusions?"
"Yes. If you wish to label it as such. It seems to be more complex than mere hallucinations."
"And...how did that kill seven people?" Gallant questioned, confused. "I mean...the five senses made them drop dead in a second?"
"It's unclear." He answered. "Their autopsies have revealed aneurysms that ruptured. How she achieved this, we still don't know., but for now, I believe it was her emotional state that let her achieve this. Not, necessarily, by some design on her part."
He turned the page. "She also seems to have two minor powers as a by-product. She can see people through walls, in the form of seeing the electrical discharges of their nervous systems, and perfect vision, our charts show that she is a match for Legend's visual test results. Once she gains sight of the subject's eyes the control lingers for an indeterminate amount of time, though she can release that control at will."
"Other than covering your eyes, what ways are there to stop it?" Triumph asked.
"So far, only blocking her sight seems to function," Colin clarified. "Giving her tinted goggles, tinker tech cameras, looking through mirrors… If Miss Hebert can see the subject's eyes in real time they will effectively be trapped within the illusion."
Colin's words made Gallant feel sick. So blocking her sight entirely is the only way to stop it. Unless everyone in the public starts using reflective sunglasses, she would, in effect, have to be blindfolded whenever she goes outside. Otherwise she could potentially capture hundreds of people. More if she has access to a real time camera network around her...
Well… that was… completely terrifying actually.
As if Taylor needed a power that would throw her life in even more upheaval. Gallant didn't know if there really was a God, but he decided that he was probably an asshole.
"She does however have a range limit." Colin specified.
Gallant felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as Colin turned the pages to search.
"Her range is approximately two hundred and seventy-seven feet. Once that threshold is passed her power over the subject vanishes almost entirely."
"Almost?" Piggot questioned.
"Yes. The second the subject returns to the fold, she can once again establish the illusion without requiring direct eye-contact. The only way to avoid this is for her to willingly remove the illusion. Then she would have to establish eye contact again to regain her previous control."
"Can she look someone in the eye without trapping them?"
"As far as we've seen? No. She doesn't have that control. Perhaps she will learn," he said. "But for now she is an uncontrolled Master designation. I am tentatively placing her under the rank of Master seven, thinker two."
"Thinker?" Triumph asked.
"The level of detail reported by the volunteer within her illusion was extraordinary, more information than any normal human mind could process and apply at real time."
Piggot nodded. "I see. Both animal and human tests were conducted?" She questioned.
"Mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, fish," Colin listed.
"All showed signs of her control. Insects however, did not, possibly because they don't have a normal nervous system." He commented turning to another page.
"Along with her perfect vision, it seems, though as of yet unconfirmed, that she has a heightened reaction time to anything that she can see coming.
Gallant caught the flash of...hesitation, a nebulous murky cloud around Colin's head.
Finally, he sighed.
"I believe Ms. Hebert knows how she achieved the death's of the seven Empire affiliated individuals, including Hookwolf."
"She's just not telling you." The annoyance rolling off of Piggot would have been obvious, even without his power.
"No. And given how recent the event I do not recommend we press the issue for the time being."
"I cannot have a Ward marching around the streets with an undocumented potential to kill people Colin."
"She's not a Ward yet."
The words made everyone stop, blinking for a moment as they wondered where they came from before they all turned to Assault who was glaring at Piggot.
"What was that."
"I said she's not a Ward yet, Piggot." He bit out every word, as clear as possible.
The director of the PRT turned to face the man. "Is there something you'd like to say?"
"Yeah. She's not a Ward. Need me to repeat it one more time? Before you and Colin here decide to go look for costumes and set up patrol routes for her, how about we let the kid breathe before you make us drag the truth out of her like someone we stick in an interrogation room. She's under no obligation to report to you, and she isn't a criminal so how about the both of you just. Back. Off." He looked pointedly at Colin before turning back to Piggot. "I'm sure I could find other people besides me that'll agree."
Gallant blinked and, in a second, the tension in the room nearly suffocated him. Ironically, the solace he took in this instance, was Sophia, who radiated amused satisfaction as Assault finished speaking.
"She is dangerous, Assault. Our first priority has to be the safety of the public."
"Really? Where in 'I cannot have a Ward marching around the streets' was the public safety part? Oh, right. It was after we established that you called dibbs on her like a tenth grader on the front seat. My mistake."
"I don't think I like your tone."
"I know I don't like yours."
"Alright! Enough!"
It was Militia that raised her voice, drawing all eyes to her as she leaned over the table. "This has been a long, long day for all of us. We're all high strung. So let's adjourn this and re-open the subject tomorrow." She looked to Colin. "Hand me the file. I'll read it. You're on duty so I'll talk tomorrow.
The tension in the room hadn't abated at all. And only after Colin pushed the file her way did Assault finally stand up and take his leave.
"I haven't dismissed you!" Piggot snarled.
"Tough fucking shit!"
If the man could have slammed the hydraulic door, he probably would have.