- Location
- Here
Dwarven Hammer showed up as well. I think her boots at the start would be Ranger's Boots, too.
Pretender (Worm/Dominions 4)
- Thread starter TotalAbsolutism
- Start date
- Location
- Existance
This remains so wonderfully strange and unique. The Empire attacks what they don't realize is supposed to be an empire.
Civilization building powers don't get enough respect in fiction.
Civilization building powers don't get enough respect in fiction.
I'd love to see what kind of psych profile the Protectorate would have tried to put together on her if they had just a little bit more information at the start. Imagine a couple of PRT officers hanging out in the break room:
"Hey, you know Pretender, that new Trump-Striker-Thinker-Whatever?"
"Yeah? I was driving the Mobile Command Unit the other day when we picked her up before the Lung takedown."
"Well, we had the Think Tank working on her to see if we could figure out if she was covering for somebody else who was making the items. They came up blank on that, but they were pretty sure she has... ambitions."
"Huh. Didn't have her pegged for one of those cackling take-over-the-city types. They usually don't loan out their gear for testing."
"No, think bigger."
"What, she's a full-blown deiboo? Been like six months since the last one of those, and now we've got two at once? Her and that other new cape, Oracle I think it was? Started a church or something."
"Always funny to hear them ranting about 'mortals' while they're getting foamed."
"Ain't that the truth. 'I am invincible! Nothing can stop me now-mphgrblmph!' The Think Tank comes up with some weird ideas sometimes, though, and usually the deiboos are compelled to tell everybody about it, like a vegan on crossfit. They confirmed this?"
"Just today. A Ward patrol met up with her and Armsmaster talked to her while Gallant was there."
"Yeah?"
"Get this; Halbeard asked her straight up if she was a goddess destined to rule the world."
"Subtle as always, I see. What'd she say?"
"She said no, but the big guy is convinced she's lying. Gallant says she was really embarrassed about it, and probably not because she's a teenage girl and Armsmaster asked her if she was a goddess."
"A fangirl's dream come true."
"Yeah. Just keep your eyes open. You know how it always goes with deiboos, sooner or later."
"Foam 'em all, let Piggot sort 'em out?"
"Yup."
"Hey, you know Pretender, that new Trump-Striker-Thinker-Whatever?"
"Yeah? I was driving the Mobile Command Unit the other day when we picked her up before the Lung takedown."
"Well, we had the Think Tank working on her to see if we could figure out if she was covering for somebody else who was making the items. They came up blank on that, but they were pretty sure she has... ambitions."
"Huh. Didn't have her pegged for one of those cackling take-over-the-city types. They usually don't loan out their gear for testing."
"No, think bigger."
"What, she's a full-blown deiboo? Been like six months since the last one of those, and now we've got two at once? Her and that other new cape, Oracle I think it was? Started a church or something."
"Always funny to hear them ranting about 'mortals' while they're getting foamed."
"Ain't that the truth. 'I am invincible! Nothing can stop me now-mphgrblmph!' The Think Tank comes up with some weird ideas sometimes, though, and usually the deiboos are compelled to tell everybody about it, like a vegan on crossfit. They confirmed this?"
"Just today. A Ward patrol met up with her and Armsmaster talked to her while Gallant was there."
"Yeah?"
"Get this; Halbeard asked her straight up if she was a goddess destined to rule the world."
"Subtle as always, I see. What'd she say?"
"She said no, but the big guy is convinced she's lying. Gallant says she was really embarrassed about it, and probably not because she's a teenage girl and Armsmaster asked her if she was a goddess."
"A fangirl's dream come true."
"Yeah. Just keep your eyes open. You know how it always goes with deiboos, sooner or later."
"Foam 'em all, let Piggot sort 'em out?"
"Yup."
TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
While in the process of writing the next part I added a single sentence to Grace 2.2 that adds a fair bit of complexity to events. At least in my opinion.
After Grace is over we'll be returning to good old linear time storytelling. At least for the next Arc.
After Grace is over we'll be returning to good old linear time storytelling. At least for the next Arc.
Which part?
Grace 2.4
TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
"Here's the latest timeline of events as near as we understand them." Armsmaster was standing beside a projector screen in the briefing room. They had the full complement here today; every member of the Brockton Bay Protectorate and all of the remaining Wards, minus their probationary members. Everyone was grim-faced; some of the younger people in particular.
"Most of this will be known to some of you, depending on how well you've read the reports over the past few weeks…" There were some snickers at that but less than to be expected. Well, that was to be expected. Armsmaster directed their attention to the dates and images that were now appearing.
"April Eighth. First appearance of Pretender. Her artifact was useful in the apprehension of Lung and a number of members of the former criminal group known as the 'Undersiders' that night by Miss Militia and myself. At the time she appeared to be predisposed against joining either the Wards or the Protectorates; so we arranged a meet-up with the Wards." Images flashed on screen and became mobile as they showed what he spoke of.
Lung and Armsmaster were duking it out in the middle of the street; the former seeming unusually sluggish. He was bleeding from knees and elbows where Miss Militia had shot him and every few seconds a pale blue light would explode from his body and ice would form on his skin. Although he tried to use his fire to counteract the effect Armsmaster consistently blasted him with some sort of gel that seemed to be exacerbating the problem.
The display ended with Lung collapsing into unconsciousness some distance into his transformation; the effects starting to reverse slowly afterwards. He was loaded into his own transport and several young people in costumes were placed in another.
Then there were images from Aegis and Vista's initial patrol with Pretender as well as the explosion that had ended it. Both of them looked noticeably uncomfortable but nobody said anything to them. Armsmaster continued his speech without drawing any further attention to them.
"This was April Fifteenth, when I came up with the 'Vulcan' Hypothesis. At the time I had thought that Pretender was a Thinker-Striker Cape who was covering for a Tinker-Trump that had made the items for her." He grimaced at the thought of that. "Even in light of what we've discovered the jury is still out on that one." Events hadn't quite disproved his idea but he certainly hadn't been vindicated either.
A cough from Dauntless snapped him out of it and he hurried onward. "Regardless; this is when Pretender made contact with both New Wave and a local crew of mercenaries with intent to sell them various items." An image of the white-and-red helmet that Panacea more or less refused to part with now appeared on screen. "We don't know what she sold to the latter, but believe this is why they appeared at the incident in May… but I'm getting ahead of myself."
More images appeared and split the screen into two; on the left their full force raid on the headquarters of the ABB's infamous Tinker, Bakuda, and on the right Kid Win and Clockblocker posing with a time-frozen Pretender. The latter was posing goofily for the camera and in the room the former looked down with a shame-filled face.
"This is April Twenty-Third, and our next major event. There are several important points between now and then. The Cape who goes by Oracle met with members of the Bay's Hispanic community and began their little cult. In addition, they uncovered the identity of one of our Wards through unknown means and began stalking them; possibly by proxy, possibly in person." Shadow Stalker shifted uncomfortably in her seat; that particular point was clearly still not sitting well with her.
But that particular can of worms wasn't the point of this briefing, so Armsmaster left it be for now. "This incident is particularly notable for being the most likely point of contamination for Clockblocker. He has since remanded himself voluntarily into custody under our Master Protocols and turned an artifact over for study." An image appeared of a carved ivory unicorn head. It made Armsmaster sigh heavily just to look at it.
"Like every item we've examined that originates from Pretender, or Vulcan, it appears utterly mundane to every possible examination we've subjected it to. Careful testing indicates abnormal durability and that the DNA pattern of the ivory doesn't match any known species of animal." Which didn't mean all that much, but was still troubling. Just another in the long list of oddities to add to this case.
"Which brings us to the latest set of incidents. Three in rapid succession on the Twelfth of May. First, Lung paid a visit to Oracle and was summarily defeated with little to no conflict. Second, I met with them myself shortly after and he was willingly remanded into my custody." A familiar image of the aforementioned gang leader being loaded into the back of a vehicle appeared; the second of the presentation.
"It was during this event that I began to develop another pair of hypotheses regarding 'Vulcan', this Oracle character, and Pretender due to similarities in abilities shown by the latter two." Namely, the somewhat miraculous ability of Oracle to subdue Lung with little to no effort or damage to their surroundings from, apparently, close range.
"I have three working ideas at the moment and all of them await confirmation in some form or another. Firstly; that Oracle and Pretender are separate individuals and not capes at all with both of them receiving abilities from items provided by 'Vulcan'. Secondly; that one of them is 'Vulcan' and the other has the capacity to provide powers to others much like the Empire Cape, Othala. Thirdly; that one of them is 'Vulcan' and a third party is providing temporary powers to both. There are other variants on these three main themes present in my packet."
Many copies of packet were sitting on the various desks in the room. Each one was quite thick but it had to be given it had full documentation on every single known instance of power usage by Oracle or Pretender, everything on any of the items they used, and a number of notable correlations between the two; as well as psych profiles as detailed as they could be based on what was known to them. He'd gone all out… and with good reason.
"Lastly, we have the final incident, and the reason we're all here today."
Attend me.
As her mental command rang out every member of her church that could hear her voice instantly stopped what they were doing and turned to face unerringly towards her. She could see it in her mind's eye as she spoke to them. Just as clearly as she could see the reason she'd interrupted them.
Beyond the range of her actual vision, mystical or otherwise, she could see the rough shape of enemies. Their livery… ugh… their colours, rather, indicated who they were nearly as well as the surging auras of power that came from the leaders. Three of them; one of which was distinct enough for her to tell who it was even if she couldn't tell from the vague impression of their appearance that she got. Hookwolf and the Empire; with two extra capes.
Her mind zeroed back in on Faultline and her group; they were having a meeting to discuss what they might do in the wake of Lung's disappearance. She had informed them not long ago now and had been trying to avoid listening in on them… at least consciously. On some level she was perfectly aware of the things that happened around her worshippers or, for lack of a better word, 'servants'.
Faultline, I need your help. My church is being attacked by Empire goons and capes. I'll pay five thousand if you can get here within five minutes.
She was pleased by the haste demonstrated by the mercenary crew; bribery in this case was safer than risking a direct order that might fail and having their bond collapse on her. Whatever mysticism that recognised their agreement to serve her was likely tenuous at best. Meanwhile, in a blurring display of multitasking, her mind split into dozens of individual threads.
Seeing her own capacity to act on several levels like this was unnerving at the best of times but right now she didn't care. Orders were issued instantly and every member of her congregation with faith enough to hear her moved with one purpose. Four to seize the cauldron and move it, one to collect one of their many insurance policies from her office, another to secure the collection and more besides; those without her voice in her head being reassured by the others at her command.
They were still human, though, and she couldn't control them; only direct. There was panic, and confusion, and fear as the news began to spread. Evacuation could only mean bad things and even though her greatest naysayers had become some of her most devout converts there were still those who felt vindicated in their fears. Besides which there were those who had just come here for a hot meal and a dry place to sleep. There was only one thing to do.
Oracle floated into the church hall with a steady purpose. Simply seeing her was enough to calm some; those who didn't truly believe in her but were willing to trust in the power of a Cape when it was right there. Others were more agitated and crowded around her, though not quite right up to her, while demanding answers.
"Be still, children." Her voice rang with purpose, strength and authority. It brought silence to the cacophony and stillness to the chaos; at least for the moment. "The children and the elderly shall be spirited away to safety by Diego, by methods I prepared for this occasion. The rest of you shall split into small groups and I shall guide you to safety."
A brash young man stepped up and she recognised him as Alex. His fervour shone in his face and posture. She could feel his will to fight surging within him and knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"I'm not going to leave. With you here we can fight those racist fucks! We can't just run every time, Madre." There were more who felt like them. She could feel it in their hearts as they moved to stand with him. "This is our family now, our community. They can't just walk over us like they used to. Right?" His voice was as pleading as it was aggressive. He had put his belief in her and wanted so desperately to be vindicated. When Oracle shook her head he looked, he felt, heartbroken.
"A building is a building. Our family is in those we have here, Alejandro. Your safety is more important than your pride." As shame and betrayal filled him she reached out and formed a fist. Immediately a spark of hope lit inside him; keeping the fire that burned in his belly alive. "You will go to safety, as I have commanded, and take with you both our people and those who are innocent; caught in the crossfire. I will remain here and ensure they do not try to follow you."
He tried to protest, many did, but she pushed at them with her command. They could choose to disobey, they had chosen in the past, but her plea for the others combined with their loyalty won out in the end. Red-faced, furious and sorrowful both, they moved to help get everyone out the back of the church and headed in the opposite direction to the oncoming Empire.
Diego returned with the contents of a chest in her room; a thin white scrap of material that one would be forgiven for mistaking for a table cloth. Those too old to move quickly were gathered up along with the youngest in their group; along with their mothers, in most cases. There was limited space within this effect and they had to prioritise as best they could. The fathers had almost universally agreed to let their partners and children go without them if it meant they would be safer.
When the old man spun the cloths up and around it expanded outwards like a tent and surrounded the two-dozen strong group of evacuees. All of them vanished as if they'd never been there and Taylor nodded. One or twenty, it was just as effective. So long as they stuck together they'd be more or less undetectable.
Now it was time for her to marshal her forces.
With a thought a dozen birds rose into the sky around the church. Her experimentation with various spells had produced… interesting results, to say the least. The flock were difficult to command and tended to be rather vicious if she didn't keep a tight leash on them; which necessitated keeping them close. But their greatest benefit was one she hadn't foreseen when she'd cast the spell and one she made use of now when she directed a pair towards the oncoming Empire.
When the bird's urge to dive bomb the leaders arose she didn't restrain it. In the moments before it died, mercifully quickly, she got a good look at them. There was Hookwolf, obviously, and one she recognised as Stormtiger from what she felt was his rather unoriginal mask. Their third was armoured and carried a spear; from her binges of PHO and the Wiki she recognised him as 'Crusader'.
Another thought rallied the others at her command and she felt guilty to see the dogs peel away from the families that had adopted them and gather in front of her. They were all of an indeterminate breed, most likely mutts, and close to identical. This was what she had. Magically summoned dogs and birds, along with herself. Faultline would hopefully be here soon but until then she was heinously outnumbered and outgunned.
"You control 'em." A voice from behind noticeably didn't startle her as she'd seen the figure approach through the eyes of those streaming out of the hall. When the dogs had gathered this one had too; trailing in after them. They were a new arrival to the church and one Oracle had been quite wary of at first; yet they'd spent their time either eating gruel, sitting in the corner or playing with the dogs.
"They are loyal to me. It is not quite control." She turned to face the other and frowned under the hood and helmet. The reason for her trepidation was plainly visible to her other senses; a clear aura of power around this mysterious visitor. Made more troublesome by the fact that her answer apparently wasn't the one one that this person wanted to hear.
"Gonna make 'em fight?" The tone was practically a growl and the dogs responded in kind; turning to snarl at the threat with ears flat and teeth bared. They didn't step back but leaned forward and responded in kind; Oracle could feel the confusion in her creatures until she commanded that they sit and be still. After a moment's hesitation they did so.
"If I must? To protect the others? Yes. I will have them fight with me." She stressed what she felt was the important word as she reached out for one of the animals. It pulled close and nuzzled against her palm. Underneath the low hoodie Oracle could make out a scowl on the Cape's face.
"... I don't get it. They like you. Do what you say. Not like fighting dogs I've seen. Like you're just another one of 'em." A hand reached up and pushed the hood back; uncovering a shock of auburn hair and a harsh face underneath. It was contorted by confusion, anger and more; the emotions seeming unfamiliar on the face. Then it seemed to set itself into an unreadable mask.
"Fine. If they fight, I help. Not gonna let you get 'em killed."
An image of Rachel Lindt, labelled 'Hellhound', appeared on the screen, alongside in-costume mugshots for three other young people; one in a motorcycle helmet and two in masks of wildly varying styles. A caption above proclaimed the name of the four as "Undersiders".
"We don't know how Oracle and Hellhound came into contact. Although we captured the other three members of her group we only have one still in custody at present; both Regent and Tattletale somehow managed to escape during Bakuda's bombing of the Rig." Images from that event flashed on the screen. It had been an absolute trainwreck of a day that had been only partially salvaged by the capture of Bakuda and the return of Lung later on.
"Hellhound managed to evade us the first time and was deemed a low priority then simply because she is not known for acting independently beyond petty theft. However, her threat level has improved as of this recent encounter." He made a gesture a video pulled up on the screen. They'd all seen it before, of course.
Practically everyone in Brockton had.
"Too quiet." Hookwolf muttered to himself while his men spread out to surround the building; a mid-sized European style church and the community hall attached to it. He'd brought quite a lot, even though Crusader had insisted that any one Empire man was worth five of the Mexicans. Right or wrong, it was better to have more than less.
Still, apart from that insane bird that had tried to gouge out Stormtiger's eyes and had been diced up for its trouble they hadn't had any activity yet. There had been no sign of any of the scum who he knew were inside the building and no sign of the Cape either. It was bothering him and he wasn't sure why. There was this nagging itching sensation at the back of his neck that was just pissing him off.
"I can smell 'em around here. Inside, too. Sweat. Animals. Food. Can't hear movement, though." Stormtiger muttered to him; just loud enough for Hookwolf to hear. Had they known he was coming? Maybe they had lookouts posted around the neighbourhood. Kids, probably. Dirty immigrants were good at sneaking about where they didn't belong.
"Whatever. Let's just do this." He jerked his head at Stormtiger and gave the man a meaningful look. "You're up. Time to roast us some vermin." The men nearby all grinned, if the other Cape did he couldn't tell with the mask on, and began lighting up their firebombs. When they were all ready they tossed them together. The projectiles received a boost from the air itself and flew straight and true; smashing through priceless windows and exploding within.
Rather than the screaming and burning migrants pouring out of the building that he had expected, however, the large double doors of the hall exploded open and something else poured out instead. Half a dozen horse-sized monsters covered in bone plates and spikes surged out from inside and leapt at him and his men.
"Fuck! Fire, fire, fire!" Hookwolf himself exploded outwards from his own body into a storm of metal as one of the beasts slammed into him. Even with his added weight and momentum he was knocked back by the thing. His blades tried to gain purchase and cut through hardened flesh as it in turn tried to rip and tear at him; getting nothing but blood in its mouth for its troubles.
His men weren't so lucky; the things just charged through them and flung them aside like bowling pins in their mad dash for the capes; bullets seemed to not even annoy them with how focused they were on himself and his compatriots. Stormtiger flung himself aside and was warding them off with high-pressure wind blades while Crusader had two of his doubles bearing him aloft while a third struck at an otherwise impotent dog-monster that futilely tried to tear the ghost apart.
Metal scraped asphalt as he twisted under the thing; curling his amorphous form around one of its rear legs and squeezing until he felt something give. Then he pulled free and partially shifted back so he could shout at his comrades.
"Crusader, inside, get the Cape!" Then he was twisting back into metal to avoid the crippled one behind him as it curled around on the spot, heedless of its broken legs, and tried to rip his head from his body. From the corner of his eye he saw another one rush out of the building and burst free to intercept it; form elongating and reshaping itself into an oxen-like guise so he could ram it hard and try to penetrate the flesh with a 'horn' of blades.
Ghosts flew towards the building and passed through the roof while Crusader kept himself up and out of reach of any of the beasts. Stormtiger just fought; lashing out and dodging and keeping himself airborne as much as possible while he left thin cuts behind. Hookwolf, however, focused on playing keep-away with the monsters and his men. Leaping and shifting to get away from fang and claw so that he might batter down a beast that was starting to lose its focus on him.
Whenever he could he pounced on one that his friend had cut already; his blades were able to make purchase in the existing wounds and rend open flesh for a moment before he had to leap back again. These things were strong and enraged and blindingly fast as well; one managed to get a solid grip on a part of him only to rip it loose a moment later. After that he shifted shapes more or less constantly as he weaved in and out; never letting another one get a grasp on him if he could help it.
Then, suddenly, Crusader coughed blood and fell out of the air.
It hurt to see Rachel wincing every time one of the dogs was done and went off to join the melee. Oracle was having a hard enough time stopping them from killing anyone as it was without the guilt and the niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe canine lives were worth more than human ones if those humans happened to be murderous skinheads did not help at all.
That, coupled with the fact that her inherited instincts were demanding that her enemies be slaughtered en masse, meant she very nearly missed the vigorous buzzing on the ring on her right hand. However, when the indistinct form of an armoured neo-Nazi dropped through the roof with ghostly spear in hand he was greeted by an outstretched hand and a sound like a shotgun blast as four razor-sharp shards of stone splintered the wood behind him.
The ghost seemed almost amused by the attempt, which was actually rather galling. In that moment Oracle suddenly found that she was legitimately afraid for her safety since she knew he could definitely stab things with those spears and passing through solid objects probably meant they were immune to most of her ways of stopping them as well as capable of bypassing most of her protective items.
Grimacing, she reached into one of her pouches and pulled out ten purple gems. Knowing that she was going to regret this decision immensely in a very short amount of time Oracle took five in each hand.
Almost as an afterthought Taylor called for help again; this time reaching out to other channels that she had never touched before. The plea was as impassioned as she could make it and she could feel the two people on the other side recoiling in confusion and fear. It was probably a mistake to tip her hand but there was also a good chance she was about to seriously injure herself with this stunt.
Finally, she let her mind gently touch on her father. There were no words, because she didn't want to make him suspicious, and no will pushed into him. All she had to give there was a feeling; in case this all went horribly wrong and she wasn't able to tell him again how she felt.
Then, with five Death gems in each hand, she reached for the power. Rituals, the sort of things she couldn't work in the normal course of a fight, were, as Taylor had learned from her memories, a function of time and energy. They required large amounts of both and she recalled distinctly that there had been a time where even she had been limited by that. However, she now understood that all things existed in balance. Thus, the equation was simple.
If you didn't have enough time? Just add more energy.
What she was about to do would kill a mortal mage. But, Taylor was forced to admit, she wasn't sure that either appellation fit her any more. So she shattered the gems and held their power in hand. There was ordinarily a long ritual, and a lot of complex incantations, that went with this as well. She, however, spoke only a single word in her heart.
Open.
The ghost recoiled, clearly confused, as the air cracked in front of either hand. There was a surge of screaming and mist and a sense of undeniable dread as the air in the room grew cold and the light grew dim. Blackness poured out of the cracks like ink flowing into an invisible mould; twining downwards in threads that wove themselves into distinctly indistinct shapes.
Two vague humanoids floated before her. Taylor was able to command them to attack with a gesture and the idea of an order before strength left her body and she collapsed in a heap. Her heartbeat felt faint but she was still conscious; her body simply refusing to obey commands yet her mind still sharp with clarity.
Each of the shades lunged through the air as their mistress convulsed behind them. Crusader's ghostly double swung his spear at them and seemed confused when it had as little effect as the stone shards had on him; whatever force that governed his power not recognising them as sufficiently 'organic' for his strike to be solid.
They had no such compunctions, however, as they drove their hands into his chest and fed upon him. Outside a pair of blackened handprints appeared on Crusader's chest, underneath the armour, and he coughed up blood. All of his ghosts popped while he plummeted to the ground; the connection between the duplicates and himself solid enough for the life-drain to pass through but weak enough that he survived the ordeal.
Then, just as Hookwolf thought things could not get any worse, he was hit by a car.
"Most of this will be known to some of you, depending on how well you've read the reports over the past few weeks…" There were some snickers at that but less than to be expected. Well, that was to be expected. Armsmaster directed their attention to the dates and images that were now appearing.
"April Eighth. First appearance of Pretender. Her artifact was useful in the apprehension of Lung and a number of members of the former criminal group known as the 'Undersiders' that night by Miss Militia and myself. At the time she appeared to be predisposed against joining either the Wards or the Protectorates; so we arranged a meet-up with the Wards." Images flashed on screen and became mobile as they showed what he spoke of.
Lung and Armsmaster were duking it out in the middle of the street; the former seeming unusually sluggish. He was bleeding from knees and elbows where Miss Militia had shot him and every few seconds a pale blue light would explode from his body and ice would form on his skin. Although he tried to use his fire to counteract the effect Armsmaster consistently blasted him with some sort of gel that seemed to be exacerbating the problem.
The display ended with Lung collapsing into unconsciousness some distance into his transformation; the effects starting to reverse slowly afterwards. He was loaded into his own transport and several young people in costumes were placed in another.
Then there were images from Aegis and Vista's initial patrol with Pretender as well as the explosion that had ended it. Both of them looked noticeably uncomfortable but nobody said anything to them. Armsmaster continued his speech without drawing any further attention to them.
"This was April Fifteenth, when I came up with the 'Vulcan' Hypothesis. At the time I had thought that Pretender was a Thinker-Striker Cape who was covering for a Tinker-Trump that had made the items for her." He grimaced at the thought of that. "Even in light of what we've discovered the jury is still out on that one." Events hadn't quite disproved his idea but he certainly hadn't been vindicated either.
A cough from Dauntless snapped him out of it and he hurried onward. "Regardless; this is when Pretender made contact with both New Wave and a local crew of mercenaries with intent to sell them various items." An image of the white-and-red helmet that Panacea more or less refused to part with now appeared on screen. "We don't know what she sold to the latter, but believe this is why they appeared at the incident in May… but I'm getting ahead of myself."
More images appeared and split the screen into two; on the left their full force raid on the headquarters of the ABB's infamous Tinker, Bakuda, and on the right Kid Win and Clockblocker posing with a time-frozen Pretender. The latter was posing goofily for the camera and in the room the former looked down with a shame-filled face.
"This is April Twenty-Third, and our next major event. There are several important points between now and then. The Cape who goes by Oracle met with members of the Bay's Hispanic community and began their little cult. In addition, they uncovered the identity of one of our Wards through unknown means and began stalking them; possibly by proxy, possibly in person." Shadow Stalker shifted uncomfortably in her seat; that particular point was clearly still not sitting well with her.
But that particular can of worms wasn't the point of this briefing, so Armsmaster left it be for now. "This incident is particularly notable for being the most likely point of contamination for Clockblocker. He has since remanded himself voluntarily into custody under our Master Protocols and turned an artifact over for study." An image appeared of a carved ivory unicorn head. It made Armsmaster sigh heavily just to look at it.
"Like every item we've examined that originates from Pretender, or Vulcan, it appears utterly mundane to every possible examination we've subjected it to. Careful testing indicates abnormal durability and that the DNA pattern of the ivory doesn't match any known species of animal." Which didn't mean all that much, but was still troubling. Just another in the long list of oddities to add to this case.
"Which brings us to the latest set of incidents. Three in rapid succession on the Twelfth of May. First, Lung paid a visit to Oracle and was summarily defeated with little to no conflict. Second, I met with them myself shortly after and he was willingly remanded into my custody." A familiar image of the aforementioned gang leader being loaded into the back of a vehicle appeared; the second of the presentation.
"It was during this event that I began to develop another pair of hypotheses regarding 'Vulcan', this Oracle character, and Pretender due to similarities in abilities shown by the latter two." Namely, the somewhat miraculous ability of Oracle to subdue Lung with little to no effort or damage to their surroundings from, apparently, close range.
"I have three working ideas at the moment and all of them await confirmation in some form or another. Firstly; that Oracle and Pretender are separate individuals and not capes at all with both of them receiving abilities from items provided by 'Vulcan'. Secondly; that one of them is 'Vulcan' and the other has the capacity to provide powers to others much like the Empire Cape, Othala. Thirdly; that one of them is 'Vulcan' and a third party is providing temporary powers to both. There are other variants on these three main themes present in my packet."
Many copies of packet were sitting on the various desks in the room. Each one was quite thick but it had to be given it had full documentation on every single known instance of power usage by Oracle or Pretender, everything on any of the items they used, and a number of notable correlations between the two; as well as psych profiles as detailed as they could be based on what was known to them. He'd gone all out… and with good reason.
"Lastly, we have the final incident, and the reason we're all here today."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Attend me.
As her mental command rang out every member of her church that could hear her voice instantly stopped what they were doing and turned to face unerringly towards her. She could see it in her mind's eye as she spoke to them. Just as clearly as she could see the reason she'd interrupted them.
Beyond the range of her actual vision, mystical or otherwise, she could see the rough shape of enemies. Their livery… ugh… their colours, rather, indicated who they were nearly as well as the surging auras of power that came from the leaders. Three of them; one of which was distinct enough for her to tell who it was even if she couldn't tell from the vague impression of their appearance that she got. Hookwolf and the Empire; with two extra capes.
Her mind zeroed back in on Faultline and her group; they were having a meeting to discuss what they might do in the wake of Lung's disappearance. She had informed them not long ago now and had been trying to avoid listening in on them… at least consciously. On some level she was perfectly aware of the things that happened around her worshippers or, for lack of a better word, 'servants'.
Faultline, I need your help. My church is being attacked by Empire goons and capes. I'll pay five thousand if you can get here within five minutes.
She was pleased by the haste demonstrated by the mercenary crew; bribery in this case was safer than risking a direct order that might fail and having their bond collapse on her. Whatever mysticism that recognised their agreement to serve her was likely tenuous at best. Meanwhile, in a blurring display of multitasking, her mind split into dozens of individual threads.
Seeing her own capacity to act on several levels like this was unnerving at the best of times but right now she didn't care. Orders were issued instantly and every member of her congregation with faith enough to hear her moved with one purpose. Four to seize the cauldron and move it, one to collect one of their many insurance policies from her office, another to secure the collection and more besides; those without her voice in her head being reassured by the others at her command.
They were still human, though, and she couldn't control them; only direct. There was panic, and confusion, and fear as the news began to spread. Evacuation could only mean bad things and even though her greatest naysayers had become some of her most devout converts there were still those who felt vindicated in their fears. Besides which there were those who had just come here for a hot meal and a dry place to sleep. There was only one thing to do.
Oracle floated into the church hall with a steady purpose. Simply seeing her was enough to calm some; those who didn't truly believe in her but were willing to trust in the power of a Cape when it was right there. Others were more agitated and crowded around her, though not quite right up to her, while demanding answers.
"Be still, children." Her voice rang with purpose, strength and authority. It brought silence to the cacophony and stillness to the chaos; at least for the moment. "The children and the elderly shall be spirited away to safety by Diego, by methods I prepared for this occasion. The rest of you shall split into small groups and I shall guide you to safety."
A brash young man stepped up and she recognised him as Alex. His fervour shone in his face and posture. She could feel his will to fight surging within him and knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"I'm not going to leave. With you here we can fight those racist fucks! We can't just run every time, Madre." There were more who felt like them. She could feel it in their hearts as they moved to stand with him. "This is our family now, our community. They can't just walk over us like they used to. Right?" His voice was as pleading as it was aggressive. He had put his belief in her and wanted so desperately to be vindicated. When Oracle shook her head he looked, he felt, heartbroken.
"A building is a building. Our family is in those we have here, Alejandro. Your safety is more important than your pride." As shame and betrayal filled him she reached out and formed a fist. Immediately a spark of hope lit inside him; keeping the fire that burned in his belly alive. "You will go to safety, as I have commanded, and take with you both our people and those who are innocent; caught in the crossfire. I will remain here and ensure they do not try to follow you."
He tried to protest, many did, but she pushed at them with her command. They could choose to disobey, they had chosen in the past, but her plea for the others combined with their loyalty won out in the end. Red-faced, furious and sorrowful both, they moved to help get everyone out the back of the church and headed in the opposite direction to the oncoming Empire.
Diego returned with the contents of a chest in her room; a thin white scrap of material that one would be forgiven for mistaking for a table cloth. Those too old to move quickly were gathered up along with the youngest in their group; along with their mothers, in most cases. There was limited space within this effect and they had to prioritise as best they could. The fathers had almost universally agreed to let their partners and children go without them if it meant they would be safer.
When the old man spun the cloths up and around it expanded outwards like a tent and surrounded the two-dozen strong group of evacuees. All of them vanished as if they'd never been there and Taylor nodded. One or twenty, it was just as effective. So long as they stuck together they'd be more or less undetectable.
Now it was time for her to marshal her forces.
With a thought a dozen birds rose into the sky around the church. Her experimentation with various spells had produced… interesting results, to say the least. The flock were difficult to command and tended to be rather vicious if she didn't keep a tight leash on them; which necessitated keeping them close. But their greatest benefit was one she hadn't foreseen when she'd cast the spell and one she made use of now when she directed a pair towards the oncoming Empire.
When the bird's urge to dive bomb the leaders arose she didn't restrain it. In the moments before it died, mercifully quickly, she got a good look at them. There was Hookwolf, obviously, and one she recognised as Stormtiger from what she felt was his rather unoriginal mask. Their third was armoured and carried a spear; from her binges of PHO and the Wiki she recognised him as 'Crusader'.
Another thought rallied the others at her command and she felt guilty to see the dogs peel away from the families that had adopted them and gather in front of her. They were all of an indeterminate breed, most likely mutts, and close to identical. This was what she had. Magically summoned dogs and birds, along with herself. Faultline would hopefully be here soon but until then she was heinously outnumbered and outgunned.
"You control 'em." A voice from behind noticeably didn't startle her as she'd seen the figure approach through the eyes of those streaming out of the hall. When the dogs had gathered this one had too; trailing in after them. They were a new arrival to the church and one Oracle had been quite wary of at first; yet they'd spent their time either eating gruel, sitting in the corner or playing with the dogs.
"They are loyal to me. It is not quite control." She turned to face the other and frowned under the hood and helmet. The reason for her trepidation was plainly visible to her other senses; a clear aura of power around this mysterious visitor. Made more troublesome by the fact that her answer apparently wasn't the one one that this person wanted to hear.
"Gonna make 'em fight?" The tone was practically a growl and the dogs responded in kind; turning to snarl at the threat with ears flat and teeth bared. They didn't step back but leaned forward and responded in kind; Oracle could feel the confusion in her creatures until she commanded that they sit and be still. After a moment's hesitation they did so.
"If I must? To protect the others? Yes. I will have them fight with me." She stressed what she felt was the important word as she reached out for one of the animals. It pulled close and nuzzled against her palm. Underneath the low hoodie Oracle could make out a scowl on the Cape's face.
"... I don't get it. They like you. Do what you say. Not like fighting dogs I've seen. Like you're just another one of 'em." A hand reached up and pushed the hood back; uncovering a shock of auburn hair and a harsh face underneath. It was contorted by confusion, anger and more; the emotions seeming unfamiliar on the face. Then it seemed to set itself into an unreadable mask.
"Fine. If they fight, I help. Not gonna let you get 'em killed."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
An image of Rachel Lindt, labelled 'Hellhound', appeared on the screen, alongside in-costume mugshots for three other young people; one in a motorcycle helmet and two in masks of wildly varying styles. A caption above proclaimed the name of the four as "Undersiders".
"We don't know how Oracle and Hellhound came into contact. Although we captured the other three members of her group we only have one still in custody at present; both Regent and Tattletale somehow managed to escape during Bakuda's bombing of the Rig." Images from that event flashed on the screen. It had been an absolute trainwreck of a day that had been only partially salvaged by the capture of Bakuda and the return of Lung later on.
"Hellhound managed to evade us the first time and was deemed a low priority then simply because she is not known for acting independently beyond petty theft. However, her threat level has improved as of this recent encounter." He made a gesture a video pulled up on the screen. They'd all seen it before, of course.
Practically everyone in Brockton had.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Too quiet." Hookwolf muttered to himself while his men spread out to surround the building; a mid-sized European style church and the community hall attached to it. He'd brought quite a lot, even though Crusader had insisted that any one Empire man was worth five of the Mexicans. Right or wrong, it was better to have more than less.
Still, apart from that insane bird that had tried to gouge out Stormtiger's eyes and had been diced up for its trouble they hadn't had any activity yet. There had been no sign of any of the scum who he knew were inside the building and no sign of the Cape either. It was bothering him and he wasn't sure why. There was this nagging itching sensation at the back of his neck that was just pissing him off.
"I can smell 'em around here. Inside, too. Sweat. Animals. Food. Can't hear movement, though." Stormtiger muttered to him; just loud enough for Hookwolf to hear. Had they known he was coming? Maybe they had lookouts posted around the neighbourhood. Kids, probably. Dirty immigrants were good at sneaking about where they didn't belong.
"Whatever. Let's just do this." He jerked his head at Stormtiger and gave the man a meaningful look. "You're up. Time to roast us some vermin." The men nearby all grinned, if the other Cape did he couldn't tell with the mask on, and began lighting up their firebombs. When they were all ready they tossed them together. The projectiles received a boost from the air itself and flew straight and true; smashing through priceless windows and exploding within.
Rather than the screaming and burning migrants pouring out of the building that he had expected, however, the large double doors of the hall exploded open and something else poured out instead. Half a dozen horse-sized monsters covered in bone plates and spikes surged out from inside and leapt at him and his men.
"Fuck! Fire, fire, fire!" Hookwolf himself exploded outwards from his own body into a storm of metal as one of the beasts slammed into him. Even with his added weight and momentum he was knocked back by the thing. His blades tried to gain purchase and cut through hardened flesh as it in turn tried to rip and tear at him; getting nothing but blood in its mouth for its troubles.
His men weren't so lucky; the things just charged through them and flung them aside like bowling pins in their mad dash for the capes; bullets seemed to not even annoy them with how focused they were on himself and his compatriots. Stormtiger flung himself aside and was warding them off with high-pressure wind blades while Crusader had two of his doubles bearing him aloft while a third struck at an otherwise impotent dog-monster that futilely tried to tear the ghost apart.
Metal scraped asphalt as he twisted under the thing; curling his amorphous form around one of its rear legs and squeezing until he felt something give. Then he pulled free and partially shifted back so he could shout at his comrades.
"Crusader, inside, get the Cape!" Then he was twisting back into metal to avoid the crippled one behind him as it curled around on the spot, heedless of its broken legs, and tried to rip his head from his body. From the corner of his eye he saw another one rush out of the building and burst free to intercept it; form elongating and reshaping itself into an oxen-like guise so he could ram it hard and try to penetrate the flesh with a 'horn' of blades.
Ghosts flew towards the building and passed through the roof while Crusader kept himself up and out of reach of any of the beasts. Stormtiger just fought; lashing out and dodging and keeping himself airborne as much as possible while he left thin cuts behind. Hookwolf, however, focused on playing keep-away with the monsters and his men. Leaping and shifting to get away from fang and claw so that he might batter down a beast that was starting to lose its focus on him.
Whenever he could he pounced on one that his friend had cut already; his blades were able to make purchase in the existing wounds and rend open flesh for a moment before he had to leap back again. These things were strong and enraged and blindingly fast as well; one managed to get a solid grip on a part of him only to rip it loose a moment later. After that he shifted shapes more or less constantly as he weaved in and out; never letting another one get a grasp on him if he could help it.
Then, suddenly, Crusader coughed blood and fell out of the air.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It hurt to see Rachel wincing every time one of the dogs was done and went off to join the melee. Oracle was having a hard enough time stopping them from killing anyone as it was without the guilt and the niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe canine lives were worth more than human ones if those humans happened to be murderous skinheads did not help at all.
That, coupled with the fact that her inherited instincts were demanding that her enemies be slaughtered en masse, meant she very nearly missed the vigorous buzzing on the ring on her right hand. However, when the indistinct form of an armoured neo-Nazi dropped through the roof with ghostly spear in hand he was greeted by an outstretched hand and a sound like a shotgun blast as four razor-sharp shards of stone splintered the wood behind him.
The ghost seemed almost amused by the attempt, which was actually rather galling. In that moment Oracle suddenly found that she was legitimately afraid for her safety since she knew he could definitely stab things with those spears and passing through solid objects probably meant they were immune to most of her ways of stopping them as well as capable of bypassing most of her protective items.
Grimacing, she reached into one of her pouches and pulled out ten purple gems. Knowing that she was going to regret this decision immensely in a very short amount of time Oracle took five in each hand.
Almost as an afterthought Taylor called for help again; this time reaching out to other channels that she had never touched before. The plea was as impassioned as she could make it and she could feel the two people on the other side recoiling in confusion and fear. It was probably a mistake to tip her hand but there was also a good chance she was about to seriously injure herself with this stunt.
Finally, she let her mind gently touch on her father. There were no words, because she didn't want to make him suspicious, and no will pushed into him. All she had to give there was a feeling; in case this all went horribly wrong and she wasn't able to tell him again how she felt.
in his office
Daniel Hebert
was suddenly smiling
and he wasn't entirely sure why
save for the fact
that he somehow felt
like he knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt
that his daughter loved him
Daniel Hebert
was suddenly smiling
and he wasn't entirely sure why
save for the fact
that he somehow felt
like he knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt
that his daughter loved him
Then, with five Death gems in each hand, she reached for the power. Rituals, the sort of things she couldn't work in the normal course of a fight, were, as Taylor had learned from her memories, a function of time and energy. They required large amounts of both and she recalled distinctly that there had been a time where even she had been limited by that. However, she now understood that all things existed in balance. Thus, the equation was simple.
If you didn't have enough time? Just add more energy.
What she was about to do would kill a mortal mage. But, Taylor was forced to admit, she wasn't sure that either appellation fit her any more. So she shattered the gems and held their power in hand. There was ordinarily a long ritual, and a lot of complex incantations, that went with this as well. She, however, spoke only a single word in her heart.
Open.
The ghost recoiled, clearly confused, as the air cracked in front of either hand. There was a surge of screaming and mist and a sense of undeniable dread as the air in the room grew cold and the light grew dim. Blackness poured out of the cracks like ink flowing into an invisible mould; twining downwards in threads that wove themselves into distinctly indistinct shapes.
Two vague humanoids floated before her. Taylor was able to command them to attack with a gesture and the idea of an order before strength left her body and she collapsed in a heap. Her heartbeat felt faint but she was still conscious; her body simply refusing to obey commands yet her mind still sharp with clarity.
Each of the shades lunged through the air as their mistress convulsed behind them. Crusader's ghostly double swung his spear at them and seemed confused when it had as little effect as the stone shards had on him; whatever force that governed his power not recognising them as sufficiently 'organic' for his strike to be solid.
They had no such compunctions, however, as they drove their hands into his chest and fed upon him. Outside a pair of blackened handprints appeared on Crusader's chest, underneath the armour, and he coughed up blood. All of his ghosts popped while he plummeted to the ground; the connection between the duplicates and himself solid enough for the life-drain to pass through but weak enough that he survived the ordeal.
Then, just as Hookwolf thought things could not get any worse, he was hit by a car.
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TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
Probably a civilian having the road trip of their life.
Oh hey, a new follower! Maybe she can get him to do an endorsement once he gets out of M/S quarantine?
-----
*comforting music plays*
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Side effects include fever, fervor, dry mouth, faith, sweating, third party clairvoyance, runny nose, eternal salvation, and diarrhea. Most symptoms are mild to moderate. Report to your temporal authority if religious conversion occurs, or if any symptoms persist for more than four hours. TinyUnicornTM is not to be taken rectally.
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At this point in time Hookwolf has a very strong affectation for his "Wolf" theme, he tries to avoid "amorphous mass" if at all possible and while he might take the shape of a horned wolf( or more likely a vaguely wolf-shaped thing with a massive spike for a face) I don't think he would actually bother taking on an "oxen-like" shape.
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
- Location
- Can't read map
Problem seems to be research (how much has she done so far?) and that her abilities act as gamey superpowers, not actual magic.
Black servant is Conjuration 1
Mind burn is Thaumaturgy 2
Thm 1 needs other mages to help (communion) or is lethal (Decay, Curse, Horror mark, Seven year fever). Blink (random teleport on battlemap) and Returning (teleport to home province? Taylor's house?) might be useful, maybe.
Thm 2 gives sleep, but otherwise seem useless as there are no magic sites on world. Chains of fire and Bersekers are less then safe.
***checked Dominion 3, instead of 4 incase of mentioning spells on "wrong" research level***
I think that might be because the most common types of Gem in Brockton Bay are Water and Death Gems.
Which says horrible things about the Bay.
- Location
- Existance
And disturbing things about how Taylor is going to be somewhat forced to approach things.
TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
Fair. I may rewrite it. In my brain, at the time, I was just writing (quite late at night) and going for what I thought would work. But since it's mostly an aesthetic thing it's an easy fix.
An unremoveable item that makes its wearer into a berserker and also gradually alters their form? Yeah, possibly not the best idea.
Yeah. She wanted something to fight what was effectively an ethereal enemy and wasn't sure if any of her spells would work on him. While magic hurts things that are ethereal in Dominions, as Taylor knows from her memories, she has no idea how it would interact with Crusader. So she went with the Black Servants because they're actually quite dangerous in single combat and she was kind of winging it desperately.
I'll address this here as well as on SB for anyone having similar issues. I'm going to spoiler the response to this. If you haven't figured out what Taylor's overall deal is regarding Dominions or don't want to know for sure then don't check it. I'll ask that your responses to this be also be spoilered.
Taylor's Divinity is not from some random Pretender in the middle of the war. Her former self was an Oracle who won the Ascenscion War and became Pantokrator; an immensely powerful if not-quite-omnipotent being for whom the laws of magic are more like the suggestions of magic. She has been rendered into a weaker, more basic state as a result of the events that caused her to become fused into Taylor but has retained an inkling of her capabilities.
Lord_Asmodeus
Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour:
- Location
- I AM A TIME MACHINE
Is there any reason she went for Black Servants over Shades? I mean I'd guess she doesn't have the equivalent of Conjuration 2 at this point.
Well. Look forwards to seeing what happens as Taylor integrates/remembers the memories from her counterpart....
TotalAbsolutism
That One Guy
- Location
- New Zealand
Black Servants are more controllable. As 'Commanders' they can follow more detailed or precise orders. The dogs and birds summoned by Call Animals, for example, are Undisciplined Units which can barely follow instructions at all without direct and immediate guidance and those instructions are more or less limited to "Follow me" and "Go there". It's taking a lot more focus and micromanagement to keep them under control.
Stat-wise the Servants are slightly stronger in some respects (especially health), counterbalanced by the difficulty in acquiring large amounts of them, and she'd definitely get more Shades if she could call on them. But she can't, or she would have.
That the bay is wet and full of terrors?
That the Bay is directly next to the ocean and has a more or less constant rate of people getting killed.