<"None of that. Your accent is atrocious and your French is barely passable. You can't have you anywhere near our customers. You'll be on dish duty.">
Handyman can't speak French, lmao. Should've taken something different in high school.
A quiet bribe has one of Handyman's co-workers agreeing to not come to work tomorrow, which will allow Handyman to assume his identity. The fellow practically jumped at the chance—apparently "things always get dangerous when metas are involved."
You can't say he's wrong.
That waiter has some god tier trope awareness. He gets a day off, a fuck load of cash, and safety? Bro's playing chess while all the other civilians are playing checkers.
<"Michelet! Michelet! Madam Été and Messieurs Hiver and Printemps have arrived! Do you have rocks in your head?! Go serve them, right now!">
<Oui, chef,> you say, as you move toward the courtyard.
Your accent was still a problem, but Michelet originally spoke Creole instead of French and had a slight accent himself. After an intensive coaching session with Madeline and Chaucer, you managed to get yours to the point where the snoots here couldn't tell the difference between your's and Michelet's.
Thank god for that. Also, thanks Chaucer! Guess you know French.
Été is dressed like a flower on fire—a big, puffy ball gown with all kinds of hues of red, orange, and yellow. Her nose is so high in the air that, if it rained, she would drown, and has a haughty expression that reminds you of that girl your sister wanted you to marry. Ugh
Oh god. They both look like clowns.
Also, clearly Handyman's family took a minute to get the memo on how he swung.
Printemps looks like a Napoleonic general in bright green, complete with epaulettes on his shoulders. A pink rose is pinned to his jacket as woven branches surround his arms, while his blonde goatee is trimmed into a van dyke. He's laughing boisterously, seemingly at ease.
NO EMPATHY
NO KINDNESS
and worst of all…
NO DRIP
Hiver by contrast looks positively muted in a white bodysuit adorned with light blue snowflakes. He also looks like he's about to jump off a bridge. Poor guy.
The one guy with fashion sense. Obviously, he's the guy we can recruit. It just makes sense!
Lady Leizi briefed you on their history. Hiver's power was the only one that didn't match the "seasons" theme. You had autumn breezes, summer heat, spring growth, but winter gravity barriers? Didn't work. His cousin made him brand as "Hiver" regardless, and he's apparently gotten crap about it his whole career.
Again, poor guy.
They weren't even smart enough to think of the "snowed in" thing! They're stupid!
<"Ah, come now, ma fleur!"> Printemps chimes in, <"The good man is from the colonies! He cannot change the shape of his tongue!">
Actually, you could. Also, the colonies? My guy, that was 250 years ago, not a good look, and, also, you're not actually from France.
Somewhere, I just heard a Vietnamese person facepalm in anger and disbelief.
That's because that Vietnamese person is me.
<"Ah, did you see the beating the Chevaliers delivered onto the Sonics last night? It was your countryman, Fritz Dorval, with the walk-off hit!"
Huh. You're supposed to be a fancy, stuffed-shirt at a high-end, classy restaurant. But Printemps looks like he wants someone to engage with him. You pause for a microsecond and take a risk.
<"I did. It was a crime to have him languishing in Triple-A ball for so long. Now, we just need them to call up Kumar to fill the hole at catcher, trade for an arm or two for the bullpen, hope DeJesus comes back from Tommy-John's the same, and we can make a real run at the pennant.">
<"Aha!" Printemps shouts triumphantly, "A fellow sportsman! I know you had the look!">
He spends the next twenty minutes talking your ear off about baseball. He's—barf—a Chevaliers fan. You send a silent prayer of thanks to your ol' Pop-pop for every meandering story he ever made you sit through about classic baseball—Printemps is apparently a fiend for this stuff.
This is what the Crit Success got us? Hell yeah. It might not be fun for Handyman, but it's effective.
During a spirited discussion about Jake deGrom—no, his ring with the Rangers doesn't count if he was hurt during the entire playoffs—Printemps makes a big, sweeping gesture and accidentally tosses his drink all over Hiver. Hiver stands up sputtering, and you seize your opportunity.
<"Ah, sir, allow me to escort you to the restroom to clean up. I must also check on the hors d'oeuvres for Madam Été. The chef has kept her waiting a shamefully long time.">
Nice improv acting! Spectacular, even.
Hiver doesn't say anything as you shuffle him off the private bathroom for the courtyard. Once you arrive, he looks at you as you don't immediately leave.
<"Umm, you can go now? I'm pretty sure I can wash myself. Also, I have to pee, soooo . . .">
"Lady Leizi sends her regards."
The whiplash in Hiver's face at hearing your natural voice would be hilarious under any other circumstance.
"W-what did you just say?'
"Hey. I'm here to save you. Big shocker, I know."
A complicated blend of emotions flashes across Hiver's face before he grabs your arm and hisses in your ear. "Tell her not to come. Tell her right now. It's not us behind this: it's Powers. They want to know why Justice Unlimited hasn't collapsed and they want to know what Lady Leizi knows. They won't let her go until they do."
"We have a plan in place."
Wait.
Does LL know in character that SM will be heavily involved?
Scarlet Maturity is coming. It doesn't matter!" he quietly shrieks, "Give up on me, I'm already dead. Once they find me out nothing will stop them. Just go and tell her not to come!"
Oh boy.
You are Lady Leizi.
Scarlet Maturity is coming.
Hiver's warning, relayed by Handyman, is almost enough to make you cancel the meeting. Almost. If you cancel now, they will know for certain that you were tipped off. It won't be long until they realize Hiver is the leak and plug him.
Permanently.
Oh boy.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: OPERATIONS 10. Justice Unlimited has a collective OPERATIONS 20.
You rolled: 14.
14 + 5 = 19. Major Success!
Alright, that one's an easy success.
What's really interesting is the info dump that LL goes on next.
Scarlet Maturity. The most physically strong metahuman in existence. Could lift skyscrapers with ease. Regenerated so quickly he appeared to not take damage. Super durable. Adapted to harm over time. Twelve-feet tall. Killed Rosemary.
Notice the Killed Rosemary part in emphasis. Also, he's not beating the SCP-682/Red Mahoraga allegations with that powerset.
The Giant Slayer. The leader of SLAYERS. Could shrink or grow objects while personally treating them as the same weight and size. Died in the QZ.
Epoxy. Member of SLAYERS. Could permanently stick two objects together on the molecular level, only capable of being separated by her. Also died during the Movement.
Earthen Owl. Could move through soil like water. Prehensile vines growing from his body. New ability to create clones of himself out of vines.
Skye Blau. Hydrokinetic specialized in the ability to manipulate water vapor. Could create and move clouds.
Marrow Spider. Osteokinetic assassin. Most commonly killed targets by firing shards of his own bones out of his body.
Lethal Anodyne. Algernon-type specializing in chemicals that affected the human body. Glorified drug dealer, tended to use neurotoxins in combat.
QUICK GORILLA. A literal orangutan named Peaches. The only non-human example of metahuman powers ever observed. Unparalleled speedster, capable of breaking the sound barrier.
Ronin. Blademaster who gained the martial skills of whoever she killed. Personally destroyed the entire Yakuza presence in Horizon. Generally a pacifist, but recently has seemed to have returned to her previous violent ways.
Some of these people are complete losers.
Than again, we though Earthern Owl was a complete loser. Than he gained Vine Clone Jutsu.
You also know that Powers has been on something of a recruitment spree lately. The exact number of their new members is fuzzy, but you know they have four new core members for certain:
Oh? There's more!
The Brass Shield. Some sort of power-armor user. No idea if they made the suit themselves or not. Commonly employed hard-light constructs.
Shell Game. Con artist who could swap the positions of two small objects roughly equivalent in mass so long as they were not being directly observed by a living creature.
pHarreit. Capable of extruding acidic and alkaline compounds from her body at will. Arrested for attacking several of her classmates at Stonehaven College, now seemingly free.
The Bloody Slayer. Original leader of SLAYERS who left after disagreeing with the direction of the team. Made weapons out of his own blood.
Anansi. Algernon-type hero who specialized in "computers". Was a friendly rival to Moon River, and former member of New Dawn. Her defection to Powers shocked everyone.
I feel bad for Anansi. Hearing so many rumors on the internet plus the whole Rebound thing cannot be good for her mental.
You laugh to yourself, tinged with hysteria. Was that all? My goodness, how spoiled you were in your past life! You would learn the daming information and Nora would invent something to solve the problem, or Uiara would give a grand speech and rouse everyone, or Towarri would just glare at it and make it disappear. Now you were responsible for the problems.
You glance at Black Swan and Menagerie Witch, high in the sky, following your plan.
Now, the team is depending on you.
This is it. Time to lock in. Because nobody else can.
He pulls your chair for you as Été sneers, Printemps bares his teeth in a grizzly smile, and Hiver screams at you with his eyes. You're pleased to see Handyman's cover identity standing nearby, refilling drinks and taking orders.
Hiver's really going "why the fuck are you trying to save me" rn.
"Harrier, I wanted to say I'm so, so sorry about Abigail. Joelle sends his love," Hiver flinches at his name again, but some of the panic in his eyes is replaced by pain at your words, "And Ophélie, of course."
"You do not speak her name!" Été shouts, her voice shrill, "It is Justice Unlimited's fault she is dead!"
"I believe that is the Leviathan's responsibility," you say cooley, "Ophélie died a hero protecting this city and someone she loved, while the people who supposedly loved her hide in the FOB."
Été recoils like you slapped her. As she recovers and begins puffing herself up again, you turn back to Hiver. "That does not include you, Hiver. We just had to destroy Floating Venom Morpheme to protect the Apiary. I know how important limiting the Behemoths' entry into the city was."
Isn't it "coolly"?
"My father had my mother killed when I was four. He made sure I knew he did it," you interrupt. Hiver's mouth drops open. "He killed my dog in front of me when I was eight. When I was thirteen he put a gun in my hand, pointed it at a helpless man, and made me pull the trigger."
You stare at Été dispassionately.
"Comparing traumas is a pointless and harmful endeavor. But I know what it means to have a less-than-idea childhood." You take a sip of water. "I have some idea of what was like for Ophélie growing up. Everyone at the Apiary knew, from when she would come to Towarri, sobbing, to get away from you. There was a reason Adamant banned you from the premises."
Sick burn. Completely ruthless. Peak banter.
15 -1 + 3 (You can be more.) = 17. Major Success!
Oh hey, that's my roll! Apparently, You Can Be More gave us a bonus here.
"Y-yeah!" Hiver says. You can see the gears in his mind turning. "T-thanks. I'll, um, just go with you."
"Y-you cannot leave!" Été stutters, looking panicked, "Not yet!"
"You'll find that I can. Goodbye forever, Été." You turn to leave with Hiver in tow, desperately hoping you can just get him to your car and extract him immediately.
But it is not to be.
Unfortunately, the simple plan never works.
"You will go nowhere!" Été screams. She waves her hands, and you ready yourself to counter whatever weapon she creates. However, instead of a flaming weapon, an entire battalion of soldiers made of fire surround you, spears pointed.
That's new. [Construct Creation]?
You take a step back, sparks flying from your hands. Été could not do that before. She could not.
"What is the meaning of this, Été?" you say, voice low and dangerous.
"It is just as my lady-wife has said," Printemps says, rising as well, "The evening is not yet over!"
A yellow mist—no, a cloud of pollen—flies from his hands and into the plants around the garden. They twist, change, and grow into great pillars of chlorophyll, their buds pointed at you, narrowed like cannons.
You hold your breath. Printemps has new powers too. How? From where? You eye Hiver, who is scared but unsurprised. What does he know?
And probably some sort of [Energy Manipulation]
"Ah, I believe that would be me."
From the private parking lot, a very nervous maître d' leads a positively skeletal man wearing a pinstripe suit into the clearing. He's carrying a briefcase and is rail thin, so skinny that his face looks like someone stretched skin over a bare skull. His hair is graying at the temples and parted to the side.
Yo. Who's this dude?
As he does, you can make out a pin on his lapel in the shape of a crescent moon over a crown.
He's definitely related to the organization that took Towarri.
You don't move. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Just who are you?"
"Ah, how embarrassing," he says in a leathery voice, "My name is Christopher Mason. I am the chief executive officer and founder of Dominion Security Concerns. I am also known by my metahuman appellation: Faust."
It's him!
He places his briefcase on the table and opens it. "Very well, Lady Leizi. I'll skip the pleasantries and get directly to the point. An interested party has contracted Dominion Security Concerns, seeking information about what exactly Justice Unlimited is up to. My client is not used to being ignorant."
He pulls a piece of paper on the table and sets it down, along with a pen.
"To that end, I am here to offer you compensation for the information my client seeks." He turns to Été and speaks. "Gwendolyn, I'm exercising clause seven in your contract and granting you a one time-exemption. Please inform Lady Leizi what my power is."
Été looks annoyed at his tone, but obeys and recites, as if by rote, "The ability to form absolutely binding contracts. Signatories to an agreement will be psychologically unable to contemplate deviating from it."
He must be working for the Flesh/Wax man. Or contracted, at least.
Also, my
Jun Akimitsu sheet just aged a lot more poorly. I might have to go back and do a rewrite.
I have another such contract here. To satisfy my employer, I propose a trade: Justice Unlimited will disclose all ongoing activities related to metahuman research, ongoing operations, and any and all research left by Valiant Silver. In exchange, Powers will share with you the results of our own ongoing metahuman development projects. Both parties will agree to cease all hostility for a period of four months. Justice Unlimited will agree to never disclose any information regarding any ongoing projects with Powers. Powers will only disclose the information gained to our client."
...Nah. Bullshit. We aren't giving you our research on the stage.
The next second, there is a massive displacement of air. The profile of the object under cloth on the table changes. Then, it begins to rise.
He is twelve feet tall, with a leathery skin so tough that it looks like stone. Red veins surge with power all over his body, a bodybuilder's dream, as wicked, red spikes erupt from his joints. His head is like an ox's skull, or a horned monstrosity, just human enough to convey emotions. He moves toward you with a grace something that massive should not have, a bored expression on his face.
Scarlet Maturity. The earth seems to shudder with his presence.
"Carrot-and-stick is such a vulgar expression," Faust says, "But there is something delightful about the image of a creature too stubborn to accept a reward being punished by the very implement meant to deliver its prize."
...shit, was that what all the meat was for? Uh oh.
Your breathing is quick and shallow. Scarlet Maturity is here. Teleported in an instant. Since when has Shell Game been able to do that? Earthen Owl, Shell Game, Été, Printemps, four metahumans all associated with Powers with abilities they should not have.
Extremely convoluted way of getting SM here. Problem is, now
SM's here.
Wait . . . wait a second! If Hiver signed one of those contracts, how did he manage to warn you not to come? And why was he so certain he was dead "once they found him out"? Unless . . . unless Hiver has figured out a way to subvert Faust's contract. Unless he already knew everything Powers was up to and was free to share it.
You see his face and you know that must be it. Of course they would kill him as soon as they realized—if only to prevent him from sharing the secret of beating Faust's powers.
Is it something related to his name? Hm.
[ ] You refuse. Time for the stick.
(Minor Success: DC 12. Moderate Success: DC 15. Major Success: DC 18. HIT 40. Scarlet Maturity's attacks each deal up to three injury levels. Each level of success on the HIT check will reduce the number of injury levels taken by one. Hiver will join the fight and add his stats to Justice Unlimited's. The check will be done with Justice Unlimited's collective HIT. The roll be done with advantage because Hiver is ready to act.)
Hm.
It seems like it's
time for violence!
[X] You refuse. Time for the stick.
