Grace 2.3
TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
Amy put the helmet on. Her brain chemistry immediately began to adjust her towards a more normal, stable emotional state. She took the helmet off. The effects stopped, and then began to reverse. She put the helmet on. Same changes; effects without a cause as her brain suddenly realised exactly what it had to do in order to repair the damage to her psyche. She took it off again and stared at the damn thing.
It had been a… present. Of sorts. Not a cheap one, either, but apparently there was a full refund offered on it if it didn't work. Which it… well, it did. She had no idea how. But it worked. White metal with a faint sort of scale pattern. There was a red stripe that had been painted down it with a white circle and a red cross inside that in the centre of the forehead guard.
The helmet was surprisingly light. Extremely durable. Then there were the… other aspects. The changes to her brain chemistry were real but the rest didn't make any sense. She could see better in the dark when she put it on. Not quite perfectly but much like she imagined… no, much like she knew a cat could. She'd checked.
Then there was… well, she put it back on and took the cheap lighter out of her pocket again. Lit it up and poked her finger into the flame. Watched as it danced over her skin and pulled it out several seconds later when she began to feel the warmth. That shouldn't have happened. She didn't understand this stupid thing! And yet…
She couldn't deny that she felt better when she put it on. More… grounded. Vicky's mood swings didn't seem to hit her as hard. The stress from work was vastly reduced even if it didn't stop her from just worrying. That niggling little feeling that she was doing something wrong, that she was being selfish by just sitting her and playing with her new toy didn't go away. It was more like… well, like she didn't care.
Which wasn't exactly true. She did. It bothered her. But not like it had before. That near-compulsive urge to go back to the hospital was… manageable. After sitting there for some time she stood up and grabbed her phone off her desk. Then she flopped back down on the bed as she dialled.
"Amy." Carol answered in her usual fashion but it didn't seem to bother her like it normally would. She could feel her body try to adjust itself in reaction to her anxiety and then ramp back down again as soothing confidence flowed into her from the helmet.
"The helmet should help Mark. It's… odd. But it seems to work as advertised. Maybe even better." When they'd been sold it the girl, Pretender, had said it was meant to improve 'morale' in general. As far as she could tell with her powers it just encouraged a positive mental state and acted against negative ones; but without the sort of side effects you'd expect from that. She didn't feel reckless or anything. Just… self-assured.
"Good. I'll order another one, then, since she branded that one for you." The cost wasn't much of an object to Carol given how much she earned, Amy knew that much, but she still made it sound like that kind gesture on the part of that stranger had been a terrible inconvenience for her. "Goodbye, Amy." Then she had hung up without so much as a thank you.
Amy sat up and sighed. Not too long ago that might have seriously bothered her. But now… after some thought she took the helmet off. A few minutes later it went back on again and she frowned. That was concerning. Although she didn't think it had legitimately addictive properties built into it the effect was… rather pleasant. Going without for any length of time might be less so. For now, she resolved to take it off when she slept at the very least.
Still. She did take it off so she could look at the front of the helm; tracing the cross with her fingers. They'd said that their powers had let them change the colour, albeit with a bit of effort apparently, but they hadn't been able to pattern it. White alone would have been fine, and yet they still took the time to do this. It was a little crude, and yet…
Amy smiled. The gesture was thoughtful. She would have to find a way to return the favour.
Upon reflection Taylor wasn't exactly sure how she'd arrived here. Only a month ago she'd just been intending to sell her items to New Wave and maybe Faultline. Which she had done. Then there had been that incident at the boat graveyard with Kid Win and Clockblocker and things had sort of… escalated.
At first she'd just intended to help people. After that she'd realised that just feeding them wouldn't be enough. They had to be protected and that meant being more visible. More powerful. So she'd made some new items, come up with a sort of stage persona to use, contacted Diego for the first time… and then in the meantime Faultline had contacted her.
Now she had far more money than she knew what to do with sitting in a sort of 'Cape account', she was pretty sure that she was an honest-to-goodness cult leader, she'd somehow managed to indimidate Hookwolf into leaving her alone long enough for them to move into this old church with the elderly priest's sincere and heartfelt goodwill and now, right now, Lung was coming into her office.
The Ring of Warning had been put away for now since it had refused to shut up. Instead she was wearing the levitating one, the fire eating one and one of the spare poison ones for good measure. If he attacked her… well, she didn't really have a plan so much as a desperate hope that she could beat him if she got in a clean touch.
Then he was suddenly in the room. It hadn't happened quickly; Diego had opened the door for the big scary man and he'd walked through it. Yet suddenly seemed like an appropriate verb to apply to literally anything that Lung did. The man was tall but felt taller, wide but felt wider, muscular but felt… well, even more muscular. Something about him was just more.
Oracle hovered in place and did her best to face him calmly. It wouldn't do to tremble. Looking weak in front of Lung was definitely a bad idea. A young man calmly followed after him, walked around the gang leader and then knelt beside her so she could put a hand on his shoulder. Lung scowled.
"I will speak to you alone." The young man did not react until Taylor put words into his head. His pronunciation was slightly off but that was to be expected.
"Honoured guest, Antonio does not speak English. This Oracle place the sounds into his head and he speaks them without comprehension. Without a voice, the Oracle may not speak to you unless you accept her into your heart." And that was entirely true; although she suspected that the young man was slowly learning to understand just from her guidance alone.
"... fine. I will trust your word on this." He didn't look happy to say that, though, and Taylor felt like she ought to be a lot more nervous about that. Strangely, she wasn't. Her entirely justified fear wasn't transferred across to Antonio and although Lung was incredibly dangerous her mind was just filled with the memories of other, far more dangerous dragons that had underestimated her in the past. Well… not exactly her.
Lung looked like he wanted to sit but there wasn't anywhere for that. She'd moved out from behind the desk and was fixed in place before him; the hem of her robe clearly above the ground. After a moment of pointless staring he spoke again. "One of the Empire bastards visited you last week. Are you with them?" That sent all sorts of alarm bells firing in her head and she quickly instructed her mouthpiece.
"Our congregation is primarily Hispanic, honoured guest. They wished to do our people violence, and we came to an accord." That seemed to both satisfy and annoy Lung. Taylor was starting to get the feeling it was hard to not annoy him.
"... you pay me half." Taylor blinked under her cowl and remained silent until Lung grumpily elaborated. "Give me half of what you're paying them. The ABB will keep those Nazis off your back." Oh. Oh no. This was… not good.
"Unfortunately, this Oracle must decline your gracious offer." That got his hackles up. The man stomped forward and loomed over the both of them. Antonio, to his credit, didn't flinch; although she could feel him trembling under his hand.
"No? I think you meant 'Yes', bitch. I don't care what little game you're playing here but it ends now. You're not in Empire turf, you're in mine and around here what I say goes!" He was fuming and smoking slightly as heat shimmered off him. Taylor knew that he was pyrokinetic and that it got stronger as he did. How powerful was he in his base form?
"We believe that your policy is a rule of strength, yes? Then we shall give you proof of our credentials." Under the cloak it was hard to tell that she'd braced to leap at him; the ring of levitation maintaining her at a stable distance above the ground even as she launched herself forward. Lung swung wildly as flame burst into the world and she felt his arm connect with her side and fling her across the room.
Antonio scrambled to help her up only to find her rising unaided with the help of the levitation effect. That was really useful, actually. The fires that had appeared flowed away as their rings devoured them; with Lung on his way in she'd instructed that the spare kept in the church hall for emergencies be given to the young man she knew would be serving as her voice. In the middle of the room Lung had collapsed sideways; she walked up and tapped him again for good measure.
He'd hit her, and not lightly either given how much her side stung, but she'd hit him too. Lung wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. When he did, she…
It was at that moment Taylor realised that she had absolutely no idea what to do with him.
Gallant was sitting in the van. That was his primary contribution to the mission. To be fair, it was an important one. He was charged with monitoring Armsmaster's emotional state on-site with his powers and notifying of any irregularities. Meanwhile, Dragon was monitoring the op remotely and would, at his suggestion or at her own discretion, 'escalate the situation'.
Nobody who would be physically in the area of the operation had been informed what measures had been taken specifically to counteract any potential Mastering, just in case, but it was hard not to have faith in Dragon's abilities. She was sort of the poster child for terrifyingly efficient.
Even so. With so many people on site picking out just one was… rough. Especially given the general feeling of this place. All of these people were so… content. It wasn't an overwhelming emotion like the sort he saw with Vicky's aura but that didn't mean anything in particular. Whatever effect that could be at work on these people may just be more subtle than that.
"Approaching the entrance. Gallant, do you have a read on me?" Dean started and moved to stare at the various camera feeds. There was one from Armsmaster's helmet and chest cameras each as well as the external feed from the van and even a couple from stealth drones circling overhead; one in colour and another in infrared. It felt like overkill but it did make a little easier to pick out the feelings that were probably Armsmaster.
"I've got you, sir. How's it look in there?" There was an audio feed but he wasn't listening in on it until they knew more. Armsmaster's voice was being synthesised by… some mechanism that had made his eyes go cross-eyed when they'd started to explain how it worked to him.
"... normal. Like a church running a community event on any given Saturday." Someone was calmly leading him through the building as he looked around and seemed to be talking animatedly. The hall was packed with people who seemed to be glancing at Armsmaster curiously but almost entirely without any particular fear or concern. Mostly they were lined up with bowls in hand.
At the far end of the room was a huge metal pot. Actually, it looked kind of like a cauldron; Dean only knew what that was because of those wizard kid books that he'd never had the heart to tell Vista that he didn't actually like all that much. They were ladling soup into the waiting bowls and didn't seem to be running out. The view switched over to infrared for a moment as Armsmaster investigated it further; the whole thing seemed to be both full and warm but with no visible source for the heat.
"Confirming presence of one of Vulcan's items." Different vision modes flickered across the display while Dean listened to Armsmaster report back. "Generating heat without any visible mechanism, the volume of liquid inside doesn't seem to be decreasing and I can't detect anything I'd recognise as a circuit." So it was literally an unlimited pot of soup. That was… bizarre.
"Moving onward. I've been granted an audience with 'Oracle'. I'll be switched the feed to full filtered. Gallant, stay focused." Even though nobody else was even in there Dean still couldn't stop himself from nodding before wincing with embarrassment. Well… at least nobody was in there.
On the screen Armsmaster was stepping through an opened door and into one of the strangest scenes that Gallant had ever seen. He stared at the display then wiped his eyes to double check what was going on. They seemed to be in an office with visible scorch marks on the floor and walls, which was odd enough on its own, but the other occupants were just as weird.
There was someone in a thick black robe that seemed to be floating in mid-air. They had one hand stretched out and resting on the shoulder of a kneeling Hispanic man to their right. When Armsmaster flicked between his various vision modes the first oddity was that they seemed to be invisible on the infrared scan; as far as that particular wavelength was concerned the robe was unoccupied.
"Greetings, Master of Arms." And at that moment Dean was certain that Dennis had burst into laughter but had no idea why. "This Oracle welcomes you to our congregation. How may we help you?" Armsmaster's emotions were… he was pretty sure they were fluctuating a little, but nothing unexpected yet.
"I'm here on behalf of the PRT to talk to you about your… 'congregation', and your intentions here. Is everything alright? Your office seems to have suffered some… damage." He glanced down at the burn marks as he said so. When Oracle began to talk again it was only then that Dean realised that the person in the robe wasn't actually talking; the kneeling young man beside them was instead.
"We had a visit from Lung earlier. He felt that he could intimidate us into submission. We disagreed with his assessment." That made Gallant's blood cold; he was having trouble differentiating between the people at this distance, especially with the cluster of happiness and relief in the hall, but the robed person certainly felt calm. At least he thought so. Their mouthpiece seemed as serene as if they were just discussing the weather.
"I see. May I ask what happened to him?" Oracle turned their head slightly and Gallant absolutely felt that. Several people suddenly felt elated and then began moving quickly.
"We have motion and emotional stimulation from some of the followers." He reported in at once and looked over at the infrared drone; trying to figure out where they were in the building and where they were going.
"I have them, Gallant, stay focused on the meeting." Dragon's cool voice came over his earpiece and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He only caught the latter half of Oracle's response.
"... to you, of course. We are happy to cooperate with temporal authority." That was… time? Time authority? Dean didn't quite grasp what they were trying to say, there.
"We appreciate your candor, Oracle, but there are some concerns regarding your flock. I hope you can understand how this situation appears from an… outside perspective." For a few moments the figure is silent and then the young man beside them nodded.
"Of course. You fear that we are ruling our people through force of powers rather than faith. We are certain that many of our congregation will be entirely willing to volunteer for whatever examinations you wish." The relief from Armsmaster was almost palpable, and very distinct.
"Thank you for your cooperation. A Parahuman acting as the focal point of a church is no small matter and we hope to achieve a peaceful resolution here. I do have to ask what you intend to do going forward?" After a few moments the young man smiled up at Armsmaster and Gallant could feel his glee bubbling upwards. He genuinely enjoyed this. Dean almost felt like he should go to some normal church services to compare them to… whatever this was.
"We intend to allow any who wishes to come here. They will be provided food, given shelter, and protected. This Oracle has no desire to use them as tools or weapons. In all things we ask that they act with peace in their minds and mercy in their hearts. As long as we are not acted against we have no intent of acting in turn; but even if we are compelled to motion our followers shall remain quiescent." There were an awful lot of words in there Dean wasn't entirely sure about but Armsmaster seemed relieved.
"Very well. I'll return later to discuss the matter of exams for your followers. And I'll see if I can arrange for delivery of some food or blankets here to make up for the inconvenience." Relief seemed to come from Oracle as well when he said that; for as inhuman as they behaved their emotions were pretty normal.
"We thank you for your consideration. Please take good care of our gift. We do not wish any harm upon him." After a few more basic pleasantries Armsmaster began to head out and Dean finally relaxed; watching his senior's progress and noting the small group following in his wake. As they came out to the van the telepresence drone sitting in there with Gallant hummed to life and opened the rear doors then moved out to meet Armsmaster.
Moments later they both stepped back in; each carrying one side of a litter that was being supported by the drone on the other side. Laying on the makeshift carrier was… Lung. Unconscious, apparently unharmed and very shortly full of drugs as Armsmaster carefully injected him with something and began to apply restraints.
"How were the readings?" It took long enough for Dean to realise that he was being spoken to that Dragon replied for him. Or perhaps Armsmaster was talking to her all along.
"Stable on your end. No unexpected spikes. Gallant?" He must have been talking to her because now it was his turn.
"Um… stable, I guess. I think Oracle might be able to communicate with them remotely because they were really excited before they went to get... " He glanced down at the shackled ABB leader. "Uh… Lung. But their emotions feel… normal. It's not like when Vicky's around someone, or when I blast someone. If they were being Mastered it's either on all the time or incredibly subtle. I'm not sure." Armsmaster removed his helmet and frowned.
"I didn't get any response from my psychic shielding. Which could mean so many things that it's basically worthless as a result. We'll have to investigate the converts…" The vehicle hummed into life as Dragon began to drive it back for them. It had been equipped to self-drive and for full remote control. Again, just in case.
"Well, we'll be in Master-Stranger quarantine for a while either way. Lung will have to be as well. Containment will be tricky…" Dean didn't want to interrupt the boss' thoughts but there was something curious that he had to ask about.
"Sir, what was with the… Oracle was talking through that guy. It was… well, it was kinda creepy." Armsmaster shot him a rueful look as he sat down and buckled up.
"I was warned going in that Oracle couldn't speak directly to us. Of course, I had no idea what they actually meant by that until I got in. I wanted to ask about it then but I thought we should ask the ones we interview first." Right. That… made sense, he supposed. "Still. We have Lung. And not a mark on him…"
Armsmaster pulled out a screen from the side of his chair and began to tap on it with a deepening frown. "Can't see any major injuries at all from the preliminary scans. Have to do blood chemistry when we get him back…" His expression only seemed to darken then.
"... sir? Are you alright?" Gallant only spoke to the older man after much hesitation. Which was understandable given the face he was making.
"Fine. This is just very… familiar to me." He put his helmet back on and a moment later he seemed to be talking to someone else; though the sound was being purposefully muffled. When he was done he took it off again and let out a heavy sigh.
"... Dean." Gallant straightened up when addressed. Armsmaster was looking right at him. "How' have Panacea and Glory Girl been lately?" Well, that was a bit out of left field.
"Oh. Uh. Good. Fine, I guess? Vicky is still Vicky, but she's been a bit happier lately." She'd told him that her dad was recovering from a pretty dark place but he wasn't exactly going to say that, not even to his direct superior. "And Amy seems less stressed since they got that helmet from Pretender for her." Armsmaster nodded; expression unreadable.
"Alright. Suggest to both of them that they might like to try and avoid Pretender for a while. The same goes for you. I'll have a proper meeting with all of the Wards about it after I've met with her again. We've got to sort out a few things." Dean nodded but felt fairly lost. He knew there was meant to be some sort of connection between Oracle and Pretender via whoever made those strange items for the both of them but even so, something about that statement felt ominous…
At her desk Faultline suddenly sat up straight; discarding the bits of wood she'd been messing around with moments ago. For a few moments she seemed to be listening to something. Then she burst into raucous laughter and hit the intercom.
"Gregor, get the gang in here right now! We've got word from the P-Net." She chuckled over their tongue-in-cheek nickname for their benefactor's chosen communication method and was just leaning back in her chair as the intercom began to crackle at her.
"Elle too?" That gave her a moment of pause. She frowned briefly before leaning in and hitting the button again.
"Yeah. Elle too." She had long enough before Newter arrived to relax and then Emily and Elle arrived shortly after with Gregor bringing up the rear. The blonde girl was smiling and had flowers braided into her hair; the floor around her feet transforming into grass as she walked and vanishing as she stepped away. The gold-and-blue amulet was very clearly visible on her chest against the green robe.
They'd expected a significant decrease in power from her and they'd got it. In exchange she was almost always lucid enough to communicate with them and had been amazingly stable for weeks now. If they needed her power then she could take off the amulet but in the meantime she seemed ecstatic to be able to interact with everyone without any difficulty.
That had been the final straw that had broken her resistance to Pretender's little contract. Elle was wonderful to be around in her better moments and now those moments had been stretched out indefinitely. Newter had automatically gone and cuddled up to her; happy to take in the human contact just because he could. Because he didn't have to worry about it. Green and gold rings glittered on all of their hands.
"Good news. Word from upstairs is that Lung is down and out. That means the ABB only has Lee left. Could be some good business for us if we wanted to work independently for a bit. Thoughts?" Gregor went into his usually thoughtful consideration while Newter jumped up and grinned.
"Awesome! Let's rob 'em blind while it lasts." That was the rub, wasn't it. Gregor shook his head and rumbled into speech.
"We should wait a few days to see if it sticks. Otherwise… it could be a lucrative venture. More lucrative if we could get paid for doing it. Unfortunately, I suspect our only customer in that regard would be the Empire and I have no particular desire to reach out to them, nor respond to any overtures in kind." That was a sobering thought. Their contemplation was broken by Elle.
"Um… if we do, then I'd like to help. I need more practice working with my powers while I have this on." She gestured to the amulet and then smiled at all of them.
"... yeah, I'm keen, boss." That was three for five, and Gregor's concerns seemed to be mostly logistical. "But we should wait a bit. See if Coil will pay us to mess with them a bit, maybe? He seems the sort to take advantage of this." Ugh. There was a snake if there ever was one; and she wasn't just saying that because of his dumb-looking costume.
"Alright. If Lung's still locked up in a few days and we don't hear from anyone wanting us to mess with them we'll…" She trailed off for a few moments and then shot out of her seat. "Fuck. Fuck! We have to go right now. Newter, go start the car!" He didn't question her at all; leaping away from Elle and flitting out of the doorway. By the time she was in the hall he was out of sight and the other three were following behind her.
"What's happening?" Gregor called out after her as they ran but, to his credit, he moved with as much alacrity as he could manage. There was a ripple in the air and the environment twisted; a calm rolling hill flowing into reality via the hallway in front of them and terminating in what appeared to be the downstairs garage. Spitfire had picked Elle up and was carrying the girl with them; both of their faces red from their respective exertion.
Faultline praised her people in the depths of her heart as they dashed down the hill and through the door at the bottom of it; the distorted terrain already transforming back into the club. Even with their shortcut Newter had arrived before them, probably by literally leaping down the stairwell, and their vehicle was running. She opened the door and took the wheel; slamming the garage opener while the others piled in. The vehicle's roof scraped a little against the rising door as she gunned it out of there.
"Pretender just promised us five thousand if we can reach her location in five minutes." A lot of money and yet not a lot at all; but she knew the girl wasn't actually all that wealthy. It wasn't why she was hurrying. Faultline's people were important to her and even if she'd charged a pretty penny for the service the weird little Tinker had still helped them.
"She says that her church is being attacked by the Empire."
It had been a… present. Of sorts. Not a cheap one, either, but apparently there was a full refund offered on it if it didn't work. Which it… well, it did. She had no idea how. But it worked. White metal with a faint sort of scale pattern. There was a red stripe that had been painted down it with a white circle and a red cross inside that in the centre of the forehead guard.
The helmet was surprisingly light. Extremely durable. Then there were the… other aspects. The changes to her brain chemistry were real but the rest didn't make any sense. She could see better in the dark when she put it on. Not quite perfectly but much like she imagined… no, much like she knew a cat could. She'd checked.
Then there was… well, she put it back on and took the cheap lighter out of her pocket again. Lit it up and poked her finger into the flame. Watched as it danced over her skin and pulled it out several seconds later when she began to feel the warmth. That shouldn't have happened. She didn't understand this stupid thing! And yet…
She couldn't deny that she felt better when she put it on. More… grounded. Vicky's mood swings didn't seem to hit her as hard. The stress from work was vastly reduced even if it didn't stop her from just worrying. That niggling little feeling that she was doing something wrong, that she was being selfish by just sitting her and playing with her new toy didn't go away. It was more like… well, like she didn't care.
Which wasn't exactly true. She did. It bothered her. But not like it had before. That near-compulsive urge to go back to the hospital was… manageable. After sitting there for some time she stood up and grabbed her phone off her desk. Then she flopped back down on the bed as she dialled.
"Amy." Carol answered in her usual fashion but it didn't seem to bother her like it normally would. She could feel her body try to adjust itself in reaction to her anxiety and then ramp back down again as soothing confidence flowed into her from the helmet.
"The helmet should help Mark. It's… odd. But it seems to work as advertised. Maybe even better." When they'd been sold it the girl, Pretender, had said it was meant to improve 'morale' in general. As far as she could tell with her powers it just encouraged a positive mental state and acted against negative ones; but without the sort of side effects you'd expect from that. She didn't feel reckless or anything. Just… self-assured.
"Good. I'll order another one, then, since she branded that one for you." The cost wasn't much of an object to Carol given how much she earned, Amy knew that much, but she still made it sound like that kind gesture on the part of that stranger had been a terrible inconvenience for her. "Goodbye, Amy." Then she had hung up without so much as a thank you.
Amy sat up and sighed. Not too long ago that might have seriously bothered her. But now… after some thought she took the helmet off. A few minutes later it went back on again and she frowned. That was concerning. Although she didn't think it had legitimately addictive properties built into it the effect was… rather pleasant. Going without for any length of time might be less so. For now, she resolved to take it off when she slept at the very least.
Still. She did take it off so she could look at the front of the helm; tracing the cross with her fingers. They'd said that their powers had let them change the colour, albeit with a bit of effort apparently, but they hadn't been able to pattern it. White alone would have been fine, and yet they still took the time to do this. It was a little crude, and yet…
Amy smiled. The gesture was thoughtful. She would have to find a way to return the favour.
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Upon reflection Taylor wasn't exactly sure how she'd arrived here. Only a month ago she'd just been intending to sell her items to New Wave and maybe Faultline. Which she had done. Then there had been that incident at the boat graveyard with Kid Win and Clockblocker and things had sort of… escalated.
At first she'd just intended to help people. After that she'd realised that just feeding them wouldn't be enough. They had to be protected and that meant being more visible. More powerful. So she'd made some new items, come up with a sort of stage persona to use, contacted Diego for the first time… and then in the meantime Faultline had contacted her.
Now she had far more money than she knew what to do with sitting in a sort of 'Cape account', she was pretty sure that she was an honest-to-goodness cult leader, she'd somehow managed to indimidate Hookwolf into leaving her alone long enough for them to move into this old church with the elderly priest's sincere and heartfelt goodwill and now, right now, Lung was coming into her office.
The Ring of Warning had been put away for now since it had refused to shut up. Instead she was wearing the levitating one, the fire eating one and one of the spare poison ones for good measure. If he attacked her… well, she didn't really have a plan so much as a desperate hope that she could beat him if she got in a clean touch.
Then he was suddenly in the room. It hadn't happened quickly; Diego had opened the door for the big scary man and he'd walked through it. Yet suddenly seemed like an appropriate verb to apply to literally anything that Lung did. The man was tall but felt taller, wide but felt wider, muscular but felt… well, even more muscular. Something about him was just more.
Oracle hovered in place and did her best to face him calmly. It wouldn't do to tremble. Looking weak in front of Lung was definitely a bad idea. A young man calmly followed after him, walked around the gang leader and then knelt beside her so she could put a hand on his shoulder. Lung scowled.
"I will speak to you alone." The young man did not react until Taylor put words into his head. His pronunciation was slightly off but that was to be expected.
"Honoured guest, Antonio does not speak English. This Oracle place the sounds into his head and he speaks them without comprehension. Without a voice, the Oracle may not speak to you unless you accept her into your heart." And that was entirely true; although she suspected that the young man was slowly learning to understand just from her guidance alone.
"... fine. I will trust your word on this." He didn't look happy to say that, though, and Taylor felt like she ought to be a lot more nervous about that. Strangely, she wasn't. Her entirely justified fear wasn't transferred across to Antonio and although Lung was incredibly dangerous her mind was just filled with the memories of other, far more dangerous dragons that had underestimated her in the past. Well… not exactly her.
Lung looked like he wanted to sit but there wasn't anywhere for that. She'd moved out from behind the desk and was fixed in place before him; the hem of her robe clearly above the ground. After a moment of pointless staring he spoke again. "One of the Empire bastards visited you last week. Are you with them?" That sent all sorts of alarm bells firing in her head and she quickly instructed her mouthpiece.
"Our congregation is primarily Hispanic, honoured guest. They wished to do our people violence, and we came to an accord." That seemed to both satisfy and annoy Lung. Taylor was starting to get the feeling it was hard to not annoy him.
"... you pay me half." Taylor blinked under her cowl and remained silent until Lung grumpily elaborated. "Give me half of what you're paying them. The ABB will keep those Nazis off your back." Oh. Oh no. This was… not good.
"Unfortunately, this Oracle must decline your gracious offer." That got his hackles up. The man stomped forward and loomed over the both of them. Antonio, to his credit, didn't flinch; although she could feel him trembling under his hand.
"No? I think you meant 'Yes', bitch. I don't care what little game you're playing here but it ends now. You're not in Empire turf, you're in mine and around here what I say goes!" He was fuming and smoking slightly as heat shimmered off him. Taylor knew that he was pyrokinetic and that it got stronger as he did. How powerful was he in his base form?
"We believe that your policy is a rule of strength, yes? Then we shall give you proof of our credentials." Under the cloak it was hard to tell that she'd braced to leap at him; the ring of levitation maintaining her at a stable distance above the ground even as she launched herself forward. Lung swung wildly as flame burst into the world and she felt his arm connect with her side and fling her across the room.
Antonio scrambled to help her up only to find her rising unaided with the help of the levitation effect. That was really useful, actually. The fires that had appeared flowed away as their rings devoured them; with Lung on his way in she'd instructed that the spare kept in the church hall for emergencies be given to the young man she knew would be serving as her voice. In the middle of the room Lung had collapsed sideways; she walked up and tapped him again for good measure.
He'd hit her, and not lightly either given how much her side stung, but she'd hit him too. Lung wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. When he did, she…
It was at that moment Taylor realised that she had absolutely no idea what to do with him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Gallant was sitting in the van. That was his primary contribution to the mission. To be fair, it was an important one. He was charged with monitoring Armsmaster's emotional state on-site with his powers and notifying of any irregularities. Meanwhile, Dragon was monitoring the op remotely and would, at his suggestion or at her own discretion, 'escalate the situation'.
Nobody who would be physically in the area of the operation had been informed what measures had been taken specifically to counteract any potential Mastering, just in case, but it was hard not to have faith in Dragon's abilities. She was sort of the poster child for terrifyingly efficient.
Even so. With so many people on site picking out just one was… rough. Especially given the general feeling of this place. All of these people were so… content. It wasn't an overwhelming emotion like the sort he saw with Vicky's aura but that didn't mean anything in particular. Whatever effect that could be at work on these people may just be more subtle than that.
"Approaching the entrance. Gallant, do you have a read on me?" Dean started and moved to stare at the various camera feeds. There was one from Armsmaster's helmet and chest cameras each as well as the external feed from the van and even a couple from stealth drones circling overhead; one in colour and another in infrared. It felt like overkill but it did make a little easier to pick out the feelings that were probably Armsmaster.
"I've got you, sir. How's it look in there?" There was an audio feed but he wasn't listening in on it until they knew more. Armsmaster's voice was being synthesised by… some mechanism that had made his eyes go cross-eyed when they'd started to explain how it worked to him.
"... normal. Like a church running a community event on any given Saturday." Someone was calmly leading him through the building as he looked around and seemed to be talking animatedly. The hall was packed with people who seemed to be glancing at Armsmaster curiously but almost entirely without any particular fear or concern. Mostly they were lined up with bowls in hand.
At the far end of the room was a huge metal pot. Actually, it looked kind of like a cauldron; Dean only knew what that was because of those wizard kid books that he'd never had the heart to tell Vista that he didn't actually like all that much. They were ladling soup into the waiting bowls and didn't seem to be running out. The view switched over to infrared for a moment as Armsmaster investigated it further; the whole thing seemed to be both full and warm but with no visible source for the heat.
"Confirming presence of one of Vulcan's items." Different vision modes flickered across the display while Dean listened to Armsmaster report back. "Generating heat without any visible mechanism, the volume of liquid inside doesn't seem to be decreasing and I can't detect anything I'd recognise as a circuit." So it was literally an unlimited pot of soup. That was… bizarre.
"Moving onward. I've been granted an audience with 'Oracle'. I'll be switched the feed to full filtered. Gallant, stay focused." Even though nobody else was even in there Dean still couldn't stop himself from nodding before wincing with embarrassment. Well… at least nobody was in there.
On the screen Armsmaster was stepping through an opened door and into one of the strangest scenes that Gallant had ever seen. He stared at the display then wiped his eyes to double check what was going on. They seemed to be in an office with visible scorch marks on the floor and walls, which was odd enough on its own, but the other occupants were just as weird.
There was someone in a thick black robe that seemed to be floating in mid-air. They had one hand stretched out and resting on the shoulder of a kneeling Hispanic man to their right. When Armsmaster flicked between his various vision modes the first oddity was that they seemed to be invisible on the infrared scan; as far as that particular wavelength was concerned the robe was unoccupied.
"Greetings, Master of Arms." And at that moment Dean was certain that Dennis had burst into laughter but had no idea why. "This Oracle welcomes you to our congregation. How may we help you?" Armsmaster's emotions were… he was pretty sure they were fluctuating a little, but nothing unexpected yet.
"I'm here on behalf of the PRT to talk to you about your… 'congregation', and your intentions here. Is everything alright? Your office seems to have suffered some… damage." He glanced down at the burn marks as he said so. When Oracle began to talk again it was only then that Dean realised that the person in the robe wasn't actually talking; the kneeling young man beside them was instead.
"We had a visit from Lung earlier. He felt that he could intimidate us into submission. We disagreed with his assessment." That made Gallant's blood cold; he was having trouble differentiating between the people at this distance, especially with the cluster of happiness and relief in the hall, but the robed person certainly felt calm. At least he thought so. Their mouthpiece seemed as serene as if they were just discussing the weather.
"I see. May I ask what happened to him?" Oracle turned their head slightly and Gallant absolutely felt that. Several people suddenly felt elated and then began moving quickly.
"We have motion and emotional stimulation from some of the followers." He reported in at once and looked over at the infrared drone; trying to figure out where they were in the building and where they were going.
"I have them, Gallant, stay focused on the meeting." Dragon's cool voice came over his earpiece and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He only caught the latter half of Oracle's response.
"... to you, of course. We are happy to cooperate with temporal authority." That was… time? Time authority? Dean didn't quite grasp what they were trying to say, there.
"We appreciate your candor, Oracle, but there are some concerns regarding your flock. I hope you can understand how this situation appears from an… outside perspective." For a few moments the figure is silent and then the young man beside them nodded.
"Of course. You fear that we are ruling our people through force of powers rather than faith. We are certain that many of our congregation will be entirely willing to volunteer for whatever examinations you wish." The relief from Armsmaster was almost palpable, and very distinct.
"Thank you for your cooperation. A Parahuman acting as the focal point of a church is no small matter and we hope to achieve a peaceful resolution here. I do have to ask what you intend to do going forward?" After a few moments the young man smiled up at Armsmaster and Gallant could feel his glee bubbling upwards. He genuinely enjoyed this. Dean almost felt like he should go to some normal church services to compare them to… whatever this was.
"We intend to allow any who wishes to come here. They will be provided food, given shelter, and protected. This Oracle has no desire to use them as tools or weapons. In all things we ask that they act with peace in their minds and mercy in their hearts. As long as we are not acted against we have no intent of acting in turn; but even if we are compelled to motion our followers shall remain quiescent." There were an awful lot of words in there Dean wasn't entirely sure about but Armsmaster seemed relieved.
"Very well. I'll return later to discuss the matter of exams for your followers. And I'll see if I can arrange for delivery of some food or blankets here to make up for the inconvenience." Relief seemed to come from Oracle as well when he said that; for as inhuman as they behaved their emotions were pretty normal.
"We thank you for your consideration. Please take good care of our gift. We do not wish any harm upon him." After a few more basic pleasantries Armsmaster began to head out and Dean finally relaxed; watching his senior's progress and noting the small group following in his wake. As they came out to the van the telepresence drone sitting in there with Gallant hummed to life and opened the rear doors then moved out to meet Armsmaster.
Moments later they both stepped back in; each carrying one side of a litter that was being supported by the drone on the other side. Laying on the makeshift carrier was… Lung. Unconscious, apparently unharmed and very shortly full of drugs as Armsmaster carefully injected him with something and began to apply restraints.
"How were the readings?" It took long enough for Dean to realise that he was being spoken to that Dragon replied for him. Or perhaps Armsmaster was talking to her all along.
"Stable on your end. No unexpected spikes. Gallant?" He must have been talking to her because now it was his turn.
"Um… stable, I guess. I think Oracle might be able to communicate with them remotely because they were really excited before they went to get... " He glanced down at the shackled ABB leader. "Uh… Lung. But their emotions feel… normal. It's not like when Vicky's around someone, or when I blast someone. If they were being Mastered it's either on all the time or incredibly subtle. I'm not sure." Armsmaster removed his helmet and frowned.
"I didn't get any response from my psychic shielding. Which could mean so many things that it's basically worthless as a result. We'll have to investigate the converts…" The vehicle hummed into life as Dragon began to drive it back for them. It had been equipped to self-drive and for full remote control. Again, just in case.
"Well, we'll be in Master-Stranger quarantine for a while either way. Lung will have to be as well. Containment will be tricky…" Dean didn't want to interrupt the boss' thoughts but there was something curious that he had to ask about.
"Sir, what was with the… Oracle was talking through that guy. It was… well, it was kinda creepy." Armsmaster shot him a rueful look as he sat down and buckled up.
"I was warned going in that Oracle couldn't speak directly to us. Of course, I had no idea what they actually meant by that until I got in. I wanted to ask about it then but I thought we should ask the ones we interview first." Right. That… made sense, he supposed. "Still. We have Lung. And not a mark on him…"
Armsmaster pulled out a screen from the side of his chair and began to tap on it with a deepening frown. "Can't see any major injuries at all from the preliminary scans. Have to do blood chemistry when we get him back…" His expression only seemed to darken then.
"... sir? Are you alright?" Gallant only spoke to the older man after much hesitation. Which was understandable given the face he was making.
"Fine. This is just very… familiar to me." He put his helmet back on and a moment later he seemed to be talking to someone else; though the sound was being purposefully muffled. When he was done he took it off again and let out a heavy sigh.
"... Dean." Gallant straightened up when addressed. Armsmaster was looking right at him. "How' have Panacea and Glory Girl been lately?" Well, that was a bit out of left field.
"Oh. Uh. Good. Fine, I guess? Vicky is still Vicky, but she's been a bit happier lately." She'd told him that her dad was recovering from a pretty dark place but he wasn't exactly going to say that, not even to his direct superior. "And Amy seems less stressed since they got that helmet from Pretender for her." Armsmaster nodded; expression unreadable.
"Alright. Suggest to both of them that they might like to try and avoid Pretender for a while. The same goes for you. I'll have a proper meeting with all of the Wards about it after I've met with her again. We've got to sort out a few things." Dean nodded but felt fairly lost. He knew there was meant to be some sort of connection between Oracle and Pretender via whoever made those strange items for the both of them but even so, something about that statement felt ominous…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
At her desk Faultline suddenly sat up straight; discarding the bits of wood she'd been messing around with moments ago. For a few moments she seemed to be listening to something. Then she burst into raucous laughter and hit the intercom.
"Gregor, get the gang in here right now! We've got word from the P-Net." She chuckled over their tongue-in-cheek nickname for their benefactor's chosen communication method and was just leaning back in her chair as the intercom began to crackle at her.
"Elle too?" That gave her a moment of pause. She frowned briefly before leaning in and hitting the button again.
"Yeah. Elle too." She had long enough before Newter arrived to relax and then Emily and Elle arrived shortly after with Gregor bringing up the rear. The blonde girl was smiling and had flowers braided into her hair; the floor around her feet transforming into grass as she walked and vanishing as she stepped away. The gold-and-blue amulet was very clearly visible on her chest against the green robe.
They'd expected a significant decrease in power from her and they'd got it. In exchange she was almost always lucid enough to communicate with them and had been amazingly stable for weeks now. If they needed her power then she could take off the amulet but in the meantime she seemed ecstatic to be able to interact with everyone without any difficulty.
That had been the final straw that had broken her resistance to Pretender's little contract. Elle was wonderful to be around in her better moments and now those moments had been stretched out indefinitely. Newter had automatically gone and cuddled up to her; happy to take in the human contact just because he could. Because he didn't have to worry about it. Green and gold rings glittered on all of their hands.
"Good news. Word from upstairs is that Lung is down and out. That means the ABB only has Lee left. Could be some good business for us if we wanted to work independently for a bit. Thoughts?" Gregor went into his usually thoughtful consideration while Newter jumped up and grinned.
"Awesome! Let's rob 'em blind while it lasts." That was the rub, wasn't it. Gregor shook his head and rumbled into speech.
"We should wait a few days to see if it sticks. Otherwise… it could be a lucrative venture. More lucrative if we could get paid for doing it. Unfortunately, I suspect our only customer in that regard would be the Empire and I have no particular desire to reach out to them, nor respond to any overtures in kind." That was a sobering thought. Their contemplation was broken by Elle.
"Um… if we do, then I'd like to help. I need more practice working with my powers while I have this on." She gestured to the amulet and then smiled at all of them.
"... yeah, I'm keen, boss." That was three for five, and Gregor's concerns seemed to be mostly logistical. "But we should wait a bit. See if Coil will pay us to mess with them a bit, maybe? He seems the sort to take advantage of this." Ugh. There was a snake if there ever was one; and she wasn't just saying that because of his dumb-looking costume.
"Alright. If Lung's still locked up in a few days and we don't hear from anyone wanting us to mess with them we'll…" She trailed off for a few moments and then shot out of her seat. "Fuck. Fuck! We have to go right now. Newter, go start the car!" He didn't question her at all; leaping away from Elle and flitting out of the doorway. By the time she was in the hall he was out of sight and the other three were following behind her.
"What's happening?" Gregor called out after her as they ran but, to his credit, he moved with as much alacrity as he could manage. There was a ripple in the air and the environment twisted; a calm rolling hill flowing into reality via the hallway in front of them and terminating in what appeared to be the downstairs garage. Spitfire had picked Elle up and was carrying the girl with them; both of their faces red from their respective exertion.
Faultline praised her people in the depths of her heart as they dashed down the hill and through the door at the bottom of it; the distorted terrain already transforming back into the club. Even with their shortcut Newter had arrived before them, probably by literally leaping down the stairwell, and their vehicle was running. She opened the door and took the wheel; slamming the garage opener while the others piled in. The vehicle's roof scraped a little against the rising door as she gunned it out of there.
"Pretender just promised us five thousand if we can reach her location in five minutes." A lot of money and yet not a lot at all; but she knew the girl wasn't actually all that wealthy. It wasn't why she was hurrying. Faultline's people were important to her and even if she'd charged a pretty penny for the service the weird little Tinker had still helped them.
"She says that her church is being attacked by the Empire."
