Never a Memory 1.b
Guardsman_Sparky
The Clueless Wonder
- Location
- Virginia
Rrrrrrrrrriiiiing! Rrrrrrrrrriiiiing! Rrrrrrrrrri*Ca-click*
"Hello?"
<Tell me about this new cape, this Soldier.>
"Look, there's not much I can tell you that would be of use. I barely got a look at her before she brought down Lung, and the quality of the videos on the web don't help."
<Tell me what you can.>
"Hah, fine. She, and she is definitely a she, is about 5'7", but she likely slouches outside of costume. Her hair is dark brown and curly, though it's slowly going silver, possibly a side effect of her powers. The costume was professional, probably Parian's work, though I'd need to be closer to say for sure."
<What of her powers?>
"Brute for sure, some blaster, maybe striker. Mover rating was something temporary she did to herself, didn't get enough to extrapolate more than that. She's left handed, holds her sword in that hand while she uses her right for her blaster power. Ice manipulation. That last attack she used involved some sort of energy charge…or a state of mind? I'm not sure, wasn't that clear. But that's where the striker comes in, her sword should have shattered from the way she was swinging it."
<I see. Thank you for->
"There's more. She's not being mastered, but sometimes she'll hold herself differently, like she's someone else entirely. Not sure what it means, my power wouldn't elaborate."
<… Thank you. That will be all. Ka-click! Brr. Brr. Brr.>
Signing, Lisa Wilbourn, more widely known as the villain Tattletale, hung up her phone and flopped back onto her couch. She really hated working for that man. But honestly, when given the choice between a paycheck and a bullet…she'd take the paycheck. Didn't mean she'd have to like it.
'Well, that's my night ruined.' Lisa drew a hand down her face. 'At least it can't get any worse.'
No sooner had she thought that did the power go out.
A sigh echoed through the darkened apartment. "… Of course."
Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE, stood in her office at PRT Headquarters. The large woman stood at the window, the building's location on the waterfront allowing her to overlook most of Brockton Bay. After a long moment of silence, she turned her view to the reflection of the man standing in her office. "Report."
"Lung's condition has stabilized," reported Armsmaster, the master tinker's blue and silver power armor and neatly trimmed goatee as immaculate as always. "He's currently being held under sedation in the secure holding cells."
"Hn." Piggot grunted in approval. "I've seen the videos. This…Soldier practically beheaded Lung. How did he survive?"
Armsmaster was quick to answer. "Lung's head remained attached to his body by a piece of skin. It was, apparently, enough for his regeneration to keep him alive."
"I see. And now?"
"His head is fully attached to his body once again."
"Good." Piggot stared out at the city. "Lung has been neutralized. But this means that the balance is disrupted. If it's anything like when New Wave took down Frisk and the rest of the old Merchant leadership, we're looking at a full-fledged gang war in the streets. And all because one fresh cape was too big for their britches and got lucky."
"At least we know how Marquis will react."
Piggot nodded at Armsmaster's statement. "I may hate the man's guts, but the fact he runs the March like a mafia is in our favor. If he reverts to type, Marquis will hold ground, let the other gangs tire themselves out before making a move. This should…" Piggot's sentence trailed off as she looked out over the city.
In the distance, an explosion bloomed over the roofs, quickly followed by another, and another. The building shook, Piggot and Armsmaster stumbling as they fought for balance. The ambient sounds of the office building died as the power went out, only to come back to life as emergency generators kicked into action.
Regaining her feet, Piggot looked out the window. Smoke could be seen rising all across the city, with more exotic phenomena present in several places.
Lurching to her desk, Piggot slammed a finger onto the intercom. "Status report. What's going on?"
<<Sir, reports of explosions coming in from all over the city. Mostly conventional explosions, but we're getting reports of some pretty bizarre occurrences. Most of 12th Street was just encased in a glacier, and anything that moves at the corner of 8th and Henderson gets blasted by lightning. We->> The intercom cut out momentarily as the building shook once more. <<Shit! Sir! We just lost contact with the holding cells!>>
Piggot punched the transmit button. "Alert security. Have them send a squad down there right away!"
<<Yessir!>>
Armsmaster braced himself with his extended halberd as the building shook once more. "This MO is similar to that of a tinker who held Cornell University hostage. Combined with the fact that our source in the ABB said Lung recently returned from a secret trip out of town…"
Piggot looked up at Armsmaster. "You think Lung went to recruit a tinker?"
"It seems likely."
The building shook once more, eliciting a snarl from Piggot. "Dammit." She pointed at Armsmaster. "Go mobilize the Protectorate. I need to muster a response."
Nodding sharply, Armsmaster did a neat drill-field about-face and marched out of the office. Sitting heavily in her chair, Emily Piggot went to work, mourning the long-ago death of her kidneys.
A stiff drink would sound really good about now.
"Hello?"
<Tell me about this new cape, this Soldier.>
"Look, there's not much I can tell you that would be of use. I barely got a look at her before she brought down Lung, and the quality of the videos on the web don't help."
<Tell me what you can.>
"Hah, fine. She, and she is definitely a she, is about 5'7", but she likely slouches outside of costume. Her hair is dark brown and curly, though it's slowly going silver, possibly a side effect of her powers. The costume was professional, probably Parian's work, though I'd need to be closer to say for sure."
<What of her powers?>
"Brute for sure, some blaster, maybe striker. Mover rating was something temporary she did to herself, didn't get enough to extrapolate more than that. She's left handed, holds her sword in that hand while she uses her right for her blaster power. Ice manipulation. That last attack she used involved some sort of energy charge…or a state of mind? I'm not sure, wasn't that clear. But that's where the striker comes in, her sword should have shattered from the way she was swinging it."
<I see. Thank you for->
"There's more. She's not being mastered, but sometimes she'll hold herself differently, like she's someone else entirely. Not sure what it means, my power wouldn't elaborate."
<… Thank you. That will be all. Ka-click! Brr. Brr. Brr.>
Signing, Lisa Wilbourn, more widely known as the villain Tattletale, hung up her phone and flopped back onto her couch. She really hated working for that man. But honestly, when given the choice between a paycheck and a bullet…she'd take the paycheck. Didn't mean she'd have to like it.
'Well, that's my night ruined.' Lisa drew a hand down her face. 'At least it can't get any worse.'
No sooner had she thought that did the power go out.
A sigh echoed through the darkened apartment. "… Of course."
---
Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE, stood in her office at PRT Headquarters. The large woman stood at the window, the building's location on the waterfront allowing her to overlook most of Brockton Bay. After a long moment of silence, she turned her view to the reflection of the man standing in her office. "Report."
"Lung's condition has stabilized," reported Armsmaster, the master tinker's blue and silver power armor and neatly trimmed goatee as immaculate as always. "He's currently being held under sedation in the secure holding cells."
"Hn." Piggot grunted in approval. "I've seen the videos. This…Soldier practically beheaded Lung. How did he survive?"
Armsmaster was quick to answer. "Lung's head remained attached to his body by a piece of skin. It was, apparently, enough for his regeneration to keep him alive."
"I see. And now?"
"His head is fully attached to his body once again."
"Good." Piggot stared out at the city. "Lung has been neutralized. But this means that the balance is disrupted. If it's anything like when New Wave took down Frisk and the rest of the old Merchant leadership, we're looking at a full-fledged gang war in the streets. And all because one fresh cape was too big for their britches and got lucky."
"At least we know how Marquis will react."
Piggot nodded at Armsmaster's statement. "I may hate the man's guts, but the fact he runs the March like a mafia is in our favor. If he reverts to type, Marquis will hold ground, let the other gangs tire themselves out before making a move. This should…" Piggot's sentence trailed off as she looked out over the city.
In the distance, an explosion bloomed over the roofs, quickly followed by another, and another. The building shook, Piggot and Armsmaster stumbling as they fought for balance. The ambient sounds of the office building died as the power went out, only to come back to life as emergency generators kicked into action.
Regaining her feet, Piggot looked out the window. Smoke could be seen rising all across the city, with more exotic phenomena present in several places.
Lurching to her desk, Piggot slammed a finger onto the intercom. "Status report. What's going on?"
<<Sir, reports of explosions coming in from all over the city. Mostly conventional explosions, but we're getting reports of some pretty bizarre occurrences. Most of 12th Street was just encased in a glacier, and anything that moves at the corner of 8th and Henderson gets blasted by lightning. We->> The intercom cut out momentarily as the building shook once more. <<Shit! Sir! We just lost contact with the holding cells!>>
Piggot punched the transmit button. "Alert security. Have them send a squad down there right away!"
<<Yessir!>>
Armsmaster braced himself with his extended halberd as the building shook once more. "This MO is similar to that of a tinker who held Cornell University hostage. Combined with the fact that our source in the ABB said Lung recently returned from a secret trip out of town…"
Piggot looked up at Armsmaster. "You think Lung went to recruit a tinker?"
"It seems likely."
The building shook once more, eliciting a snarl from Piggot. "Dammit." She pointed at Armsmaster. "Go mobilize the Protectorate. I need to muster a response."
Nodding sharply, Armsmaster did a neat drill-field about-face and marched out of the office. Sitting heavily in her chair, Emily Piggot went to work, mourning the long-ago death of her kidneys.
A stiff drink would sound really good about now.
