I have heard the call and I have come. Lay it on me. 
[Rehost] Meh, I can take them all! [Worm/One Punch Man]
- Thread starter wkz
- Start date
-
- Tags
- one punch man worm crossover
- Location
- gmt+ 12
I'm available
#29 (Arc 6)
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
Snip #29
I looked down from where I stood. I was on a rest stop located at the far end of Capitol Hill Park, perched on the hill the park was named for and overlooking the majority of its surroundings.
The same hill which was currently missing a large chunk out of its side.
From here, I had an unobstructed view to a large dust cloud, the result of my punch lingering in the air despite the time that had passed. Other than an edge of tormented rock near the top of the hill, the fading brown layer blanketed everything in the park below me.
Visibility was further hindered by a lightshow. The authorities arrived shortly after we left, a convoy of trucks, police cruisers and a tinker bike or two moving in with force, the lights of the vehicles constantly coloring the airborne dirt with flashes of red and blue.
I could see shadows moving about under the changing colors of the dust cloud, but not much more. In my imagination, I could see them doing all sorts of CSI-ish things: arresting the perps, laser-tracing all the bullets, digging up soil samples, fending off the reporters, enhancing the feed of nearby cameras, scanning the annihilation…
That was all me. They were going to pick up clues, find out I did this, and then…
I shook my head, clearing it of unpleasant thoughts as I looked away.
Behind me, Coil's men were visible through the slightly open door of the cracked but still standing roadside stop. Bags of clothing had been waiting for us when we arrived, secreted in the almost hidden lockers of this location, and for the last two minutes the soldiers had been changing in surprising silence. They packed themselves indoors so as to prevent discovery from prying eyes, a move that forced them to occupy the restrooms of both genders despite the surprisingly roomy interiors.
Despite the crowd, I had a booth all to myself earlier. I had been offered another change of clothing, and unlike before I had accepted this set gladly; while the military clothing had fit me quite well, it had belonged to a person who had been exerting himself, running, dodging and shooting in the fight against the E88. The obvious result of his activity caused his clothing to stink to high heavens, both from the sour smell of drying sweat and the sulfurous tang of used gunpowder. Quite frankly, I did not like the cold, but I would have preferred to be cold in my tattered clothing than to have worn that camouflage apparel a moment more.
Therefore, Mister Smiles' third alternative had been most welcome.
Speak of the devil.
"So, Gray Runner-san…" Mister Smiles began as he walked up to where I was, passing me a plastic bag with the remains of my running outfit, "do the clothes fit?"
I tugged at my tee with one hand. It was a sky-blue short sleeved shirt with white buttons, a pocket over my left chest and no other distinguishing features. On top of that, I wore a pair of black pants which were similarly nondescript. It was the sort of clothing you would often see in an office setting.
'Clever,' I thought. It would be lunchtime soon, and the streets nearby would be flooded with a lunch seeking crowd from the office towers running alongside the park.
Oh. Mister Smiles was still looking at me. Feeling the need for politeness, I responded, "Yes they do. Once again, thank you for your assistance." I capped my appreciation off with a small bow.
The returning bow was low enough to give me déjà vu. "No problem, Gray Runner-san. If anything, we should thank you ten, no, a hundred fold. With Hookwolf and StormTiger as our opponents today, we would have lost men without your assistance, a lot of men."
I bowed again, deeper, playing the social game as I knew it. "No, no, no. I am glad to assist. Especially against the likes of the E88…"
By the time the short exchange of pleasantries had played themselves out, we were one of only a handful left in the shelter. The brawny twins stood nearby dressed in the overalls of a street side worker gang, shifting to and fro in impatience as they waited for their boss. There was a fourth man too, half hidden behind one of the shelter's pillars.
I let Mister Smiles give me a last bow before I concluded, "Well now, I really must be off."
"Yes, Gray Runner-san, we should be going. The authorities may be here soon. Oh, I almost forgot." He took out a card and held it out in both hands. "Please, stay in touch."
I took it more out of reflex than conscious choice. "I will." I replied politely.
"Thank you very much. As I just said, we really must be off. Goodbye." The leader of the soldiers gave me a final, overly deep bow as he stepped backwards, and left without another word.
I looked at the retreating backs of the quartet as they disappeared around the corner of the path. Polite guy, but I still could not get over the pretentiousness of his actions.
Tearing my eyes off him, I looked at the card I had been handed instead. It was blank.
I flipped it over. The other side of the card had a series of digits long enough to be a phone number, trailed by a single line. "We need to talk," small neat letters spelled out, signed with a "C". I flipped the card back and forth between my fingers before I pocketed it.
I did not intend to speak with a villain of course, but Coil did have a point earlier about how he might not be one.
But for now… For now, I looked down from my vantage point, observing the slow progress of the aerosolized dirt's dispersal.
I really ought to be moving; Mister Smiles had said the government mob below could be here soon.
But instead, I continued to stand, half-hidden in the damaged shelter.
My mind flittered between random thoughts bubbling to the surface. It was as if my subconscious was trying to distract me from the now, as I remembered memories unconnected to the event before me. Barely remembered events mixed with pivotal moments, from my school years and from my adult years.
I met the slug man and defeated him again. I remembered how sharp Hookwolf's teeth were again. I saw my running partner for the first time again, and left her behind me again. I found the warehouse, my emergency backup residence, again. I...
Oh shit! I just remembered something very important!
I left Tailor behind! Again!
***
I found Tailor easily enough.
Or rather, she found me.
"Are you MAD?" Tailor hissed as she emerged from a bush right next to the small entrance I just walked through, the gates almost the opposite end of the park from the one Coil's men used. Her hand clamped onto mine as she struggled to stay standing up after the lunge. "Why are you back here? They're all looking for you only just there! You need to go!"
"I was looking for you."
"They don't know my face, but they know yours!" Tailor somehow managed to pull off the inflection of a shout into her whisper as she dragged me. Or rather, tried to drag me. Her legs were weakened by the earlier running, evidenced by the amount of weight she put onto my forearm as she walked me through the exit of the park. "I can stay behind, play the 'innocent bystander victim' card! You can't!"
"I can't leave you behind, Tailor. Not a teammate, not like this."
"We need to -- wha…" Tailor stumbled. She would have fallen if she was not holding onto my arm.
"Hey, careful there," I warned as I grabbed her other hand, propping her up. "That little step at the park's entrance is a killer."
When she regained her breath, she blushed red as she lowered her head, "I'm OK."
She was obviously not. I smiled; such pride in youth.
"There's nothing to be ashamed about," I replied, her flinch telling me I had hit the mark. I continued, added the wisdom of a person who had suffered as much to the training regime two years before, "It's only natural."
"But… you…"
"Don't worry about it." I held her hand tightly in mine as I added, "Come on, let's get out of here."
***
Mini-Interlude: Coil
There was a brief sizzle of static before a transmission full of white noise replaced it. "Beacon has stopped moving. Verifying location."
It cut out, the static replaced by silence.
Coil simply waited. The men had been briefed; they were all professionals who knew their objectives.
Another transmission came in. "Target sighted, Tracer is accurate. Transmitting the location."
A bar appeared on the computer by Coil's desk, immediately replaced by an error message. Coil simply frowned; the base's primary transmitter was down, amongst the other things the shockwave had made a mess of.
Another message came in over the speaker. "There's an error. Resending."
"Belay that," Coil transmitted, a sibilant reply sent through the airwaves, "Tell me directly."
"Target's location is the 3rd block of Jenson Street. He appears to be staying on the second floor."
In another timeline, another Coil stopped editing a video on his computer, swapping out one program for another. A simple manipulation of the mouse and keyboard later, a pin appeared on the square of a warehouse in the displayed map of the Docks.
"Good job. Return to base." Coil said. He would drop the reconnaissance timeline soon, but for now, he leaned back in his seat in both timelines.
'Well now.' The Coils of both timelines smiled behind steepled fingers as they looked, and 'looked', at the computer screen. 'How can I use this?'
****
Special thanks to (SV) Daniel14541,YUIOP10 and (SB) DawnGazer, Destrark, Sheo Darren for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
Honorable mention to (SV) readerboy7 for just missing the beta.
They each get a spiffy uniform*.
* the only uniform I can get at short notice is SS regalia. Sorry about that, wear at your own risk For Enohthree, you get a much more tasteful Hugo Boss shirt...
I looked down from where I stood. I was on a rest stop located at the far end of Capitol Hill Park, perched on the hill the park was named for and overlooking the majority of its surroundings.
The same hill which was currently missing a large chunk out of its side.
From here, I had an unobstructed view to a large dust cloud, the result of my punch lingering in the air despite the time that had passed. Other than an edge of tormented rock near the top of the hill, the fading brown layer blanketed everything in the park below me.
Visibility was further hindered by a lightshow. The authorities arrived shortly after we left, a convoy of trucks, police cruisers and a tinker bike or two moving in with force, the lights of the vehicles constantly coloring the airborne dirt with flashes of red and blue.
I could see shadows moving about under the changing colors of the dust cloud, but not much more. In my imagination, I could see them doing all sorts of CSI-ish things: arresting the perps, laser-tracing all the bullets, digging up soil samples, fending off the reporters, enhancing the feed of nearby cameras, scanning the annihilation…
That was all me. They were going to pick up clues, find out I did this, and then…
I shook my head, clearing it of unpleasant thoughts as I looked away.
Behind me, Coil's men were visible through the slightly open door of the cracked but still standing roadside stop. Bags of clothing had been waiting for us when we arrived, secreted in the almost hidden lockers of this location, and for the last two minutes the soldiers had been changing in surprising silence. They packed themselves indoors so as to prevent discovery from prying eyes, a move that forced them to occupy the restrooms of both genders despite the surprisingly roomy interiors.
Despite the crowd, I had a booth all to myself earlier. I had been offered another change of clothing, and unlike before I had accepted this set gladly; while the military clothing had fit me quite well, it had belonged to a person who had been exerting himself, running, dodging and shooting in the fight against the E88. The obvious result of his activity caused his clothing to stink to high heavens, both from the sour smell of drying sweat and the sulfurous tang of used gunpowder. Quite frankly, I did not like the cold, but I would have preferred to be cold in my tattered clothing than to have worn that camouflage apparel a moment more.
Therefore, Mister Smiles' third alternative had been most welcome.
Speak of the devil.
"So, Gray Runner-san…" Mister Smiles began as he walked up to where I was, passing me a plastic bag with the remains of my running outfit, "do the clothes fit?"
I tugged at my tee with one hand. It was a sky-blue short sleeved shirt with white buttons, a pocket over my left chest and no other distinguishing features. On top of that, I wore a pair of black pants which were similarly nondescript. It was the sort of clothing you would often see in an office setting.
'Clever,' I thought. It would be lunchtime soon, and the streets nearby would be flooded with a lunch seeking crowd from the office towers running alongside the park.
Oh. Mister Smiles was still looking at me. Feeling the need for politeness, I responded, "Yes they do. Once again, thank you for your assistance." I capped my appreciation off with a small bow.
The returning bow was low enough to give me déjà vu. "No problem, Gray Runner-san. If anything, we should thank you ten, no, a hundred fold. With Hookwolf and StormTiger as our opponents today, we would have lost men without your assistance, a lot of men."
I bowed again, deeper, playing the social game as I knew it. "No, no, no. I am glad to assist. Especially against the likes of the E88…"
By the time the short exchange of pleasantries had played themselves out, we were one of only a handful left in the shelter. The brawny twins stood nearby dressed in the overalls of a street side worker gang, shifting to and fro in impatience as they waited for their boss. There was a fourth man too, half hidden behind one of the shelter's pillars.
I let Mister Smiles give me a last bow before I concluded, "Well now, I really must be off."
"Yes, Gray Runner-san, we should be going. The authorities may be here soon. Oh, I almost forgot." He took out a card and held it out in both hands. "Please, stay in touch."
I took it more out of reflex than conscious choice. "I will." I replied politely.
"Thank you very much. As I just said, we really must be off. Goodbye." The leader of the soldiers gave me a final, overly deep bow as he stepped backwards, and left without another word.
I looked at the retreating backs of the quartet as they disappeared around the corner of the path. Polite guy, but I still could not get over the pretentiousness of his actions.
Tearing my eyes off him, I looked at the card I had been handed instead. It was blank.
I flipped it over. The other side of the card had a series of digits long enough to be a phone number, trailed by a single line. "We need to talk," small neat letters spelled out, signed with a "C". I flipped the card back and forth between my fingers before I pocketed it.
I did not intend to speak with a villain of course, but Coil did have a point earlier about how he might not be one.
But for now… For now, I looked down from my vantage point, observing the slow progress of the aerosolized dirt's dispersal.
I really ought to be moving; Mister Smiles had said the government mob below could be here soon.
But instead, I continued to stand, half-hidden in the damaged shelter.
My mind flittered between random thoughts bubbling to the surface. It was as if my subconscious was trying to distract me from the now, as I remembered memories unconnected to the event before me. Barely remembered events mixed with pivotal moments, from my school years and from my adult years.
I met the slug man and defeated him again. I remembered how sharp Hookwolf's teeth were again. I saw my running partner for the first time again, and left her behind me again. I found the warehouse, my emergency backup residence, again. I...
Oh shit! I just remembered something very important!
I left Tailor behind! Again!
***
I found Tailor easily enough.
Or rather, she found me.
"Are you MAD?" Tailor hissed as she emerged from a bush right next to the small entrance I just walked through, the gates almost the opposite end of the park from the one Coil's men used. Her hand clamped onto mine as she struggled to stay standing up after the lunge. "Why are you back here? They're all looking for you only just there! You need to go!"
"I was looking for you."
"They don't know my face, but they know yours!" Tailor somehow managed to pull off the inflection of a shout into her whisper as she dragged me. Or rather, tried to drag me. Her legs were weakened by the earlier running, evidenced by the amount of weight she put onto my forearm as she walked me through the exit of the park. "I can stay behind, play the 'innocent bystander victim' card! You can't!"
"I can't leave you behind, Tailor. Not a teammate, not like this."
"We need to -- wha…" Tailor stumbled. She would have fallen if she was not holding onto my arm.
"Hey, careful there," I warned as I grabbed her other hand, propping her up. "That little step at the park's entrance is a killer."
When she regained her breath, she blushed red as she lowered her head, "I'm OK."
She was obviously not. I smiled; such pride in youth.
"There's nothing to be ashamed about," I replied, her flinch telling me I had hit the mark. I continued, added the wisdom of a person who had suffered as much to the training regime two years before, "It's only natural."
"But… you…"
"Don't worry about it." I held her hand tightly in mine as I added, "Come on, let's get out of here."
***
Mini-Interlude: Coil
There was a brief sizzle of static before a transmission full of white noise replaced it. "Beacon has stopped moving. Verifying location."
It cut out, the static replaced by silence.
Coil simply waited. The men had been briefed; they were all professionals who knew their objectives.
Another transmission came in. "Target sighted, Tracer is accurate. Transmitting the location."
A bar appeared on the computer by Coil's desk, immediately replaced by an error message. Coil simply frowned; the base's primary transmitter was down, amongst the other things the shockwave had made a mess of.
Another message came in over the speaker. "There's an error. Resending."
"Belay that," Coil transmitted, a sibilant reply sent through the airwaves, "Tell me directly."
"Target's location is the 3rd block of Jenson Street. He appears to be staying on the second floor."
In another timeline, another Coil stopped editing a video on his computer, swapping out one program for another. A simple manipulation of the mouse and keyboard later, a pin appeared on the square of a warehouse in the displayed map of the Docks.
"Good job. Return to base." Coil said. He would drop the reconnaissance timeline soon, but for now, he leaned back in his seat in both timelines.
'Well now.' The Coils of both timelines smiled behind steepled fingers as they looked, and 'looked', at the computer screen. 'How can I use this?'
****
Special thanks to (SV) Daniel14541,YUIOP10 and (SB) DawnGazer, Destrark, Sheo Darren for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
Honorable mention to (SV) readerboy7 for just missing the beta.
They each get a spiffy uniform*.
* the only uniform I can get at short notice is SS regalia. Sorry about that, wear at your own risk For Enohthree, you get a much more tasteful Hugo Boss shirt...
Last edited:
HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh lord Coil is SO screwed.
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance for Meh, I can take them all!
Be advised, the Danger code is "Tiger"! An Endbringer is participating in the Black Friday sale rush, and needs to be stopped before its stampede crushes us all!!
Once again: This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance...
Be advised, the Danger code is "Tiger"! An Endbringer is participating in the Black Friday sale rush, and needs to be stopped before its stampede crushes us all!!
Once again: This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance...
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
guessing this is a bad time of the night.
-edit-
How is the beta thing handled btw?
-edit-
How is the beta thing handled btw?
Last edited:
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
For this fic? Usually, there's a writing phase (where I write up a headache due to ideas not translating themselves into words), and a public beta phase (where I bounce off my seat in anger/shame due to my atrocious grammar)
This is the latter.
I stick it up on Google docs for convenience of coordination, and let the Grammar piranhas savage my written word. What's left over gets posted in here.
- Location
- gmt+ 12
I'm willing. Won't be able to start editing for up to half an hour, but I can beta.
I'll save you!
#30 (Arc 7)
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
Sorry for the delay guys, I had to scrap three other snips (only one of which reached my helpful long-suffering 'you-know-who-you-are') before I gave up and wrote this instead...
Here's to the start of a new arc.
Snip #30
I ran.
The uninterrupted torrent continued from the heavens. Thick clouds turned my surroundings into a wall of gray, a liquid curtain covering everything from view. It changed the formerly familiar neighborhood into an alien landscape, blurred any and all distinguishing landmarks into hints of darker shades, barely seen outlines in the gloom.
It was not helped by the water washing down my face, blinding my eyes even beneath my cupped hands. My ears were equally useless, any sound of note washed away by the steady roar of the thunderstorm and carried away by the howling of the winds. I almost could not feel anything when I tried to wipe my eyes, my hands and feet having long lost their feeling in the cold, my face similarly feeling like a mask.
I ran.
The sky lit up with a bolt of fury giving me a moment of too much light instead of the stretched monotony of too much darkness. An enormous thunderclap assaulted my ears in the same moment, the first different sound I had heard other than the rainfall, and equally unwelcome. For a brief, terrible moment my surroundings were awash in brilliant white. Shapes, outlines, buildings and objects, all lit up for a brief, sudden moment.
I saw the individual houses surrounding me, their sloped roofs showing above the perimeter walls. I saw the flooded road I was running on, the almost knee-high river more suitable for boats instead of cars. I saw the hazards I almost ran into; the abandoned car, the poles of the street lamps, the darkness of the drain missing its heavy safety covers.
And I saw my destination; a distinctive smooth curve of the dome slightly to my right, the tallest building in the neighborhood.
I ran.
I peered in the direction I barely remembered from a moment ago, looking into a world suddenly that much darker in the aftermath of that one brilliant moment of illumination. What little I could see of my surroundings was an uninterrupted mockery of a twilight fog. The waters sloshed their chill into my clothing as I bulled through the fast flowing stream, threatening to push me over and down, a fate I avoided probably only through sheer luck.
I- my steps faltered as I peered. I thought I had seen something in the darkness… there! Lights made themselves known, the first feature in my never-ending trek through the hostile world. They blinked where they were installed, beacons in the dark. The powerful lamps were dim but visible, and they drew the curve of the dome that was my destination in the darkened sky.
I ran.
I reached the dome of the Endbringer shelter moments later, on one of the sides without an entrance. Undeterred, I navigated slowly along the perimeter using faint guide-lights installed there for just this purpose, until I finally came to the facility's well-lit main entrance. My journey at an end, I relaxed as I took one hopeful step forward… before I froze.
Another bolt of heaven's fury boomed in the skies above my head, whitewashing my new surroundings just as suddenly as the first.
The sudden flash illuminated the humanoid in front of the shelter's gates, between me and safety.
It was a monster. It was THE monster.
It was tall, almost unnaturally so, and its arms were too long where its legs were too short. Its chest was top-heavy to the point of ridiculousness, and jagged rows of the monster's huge abs completed a cartoon caricature of a weightlifter. Its skin was mostly yellow, a stark contrast to its gray head, and the reflective slickness of the rainwater made the non-existent clothing look like skintight body stocking.
In the fading echo of the thunderclap, the monster turned to look behind itself.
I was on my knees, made weak by the terror I felt from the mythical being. The floodwaters felt like glue as my limbs refused to move, as I was caught in the sight of its one red eye.
It raised its right hand to its side. Webbed claws of a red limb closed slowly, deliberately, as if the monster was savoring the moment it took to form a fist. The skin where a mouth should be stretched, forming a smile without lips beneath three glowing eyes.
It turned its face towards the Endbringer shelter, the towering bulwark of metal and concrete, a human-made mountain of safety, a defiance against the most powerful monsters Earth Bet had to offer.
Somehow, I knew what would happen next. I raised my arm towards the shelter. Towards the monster, reaching out as if I could grab it, stop it, despite knowing it was a futile gesture.
I was unable to stop what was going to happen, but equally unable to stop my want to prevent what would happen.
It pulled back its fist. It took one step towards the fortress, towards the thousands of helpless sheltered within.
My mouth was open, and I screamed even as I choked on the rain.
It punched…
***
"GYAAAAAAAaaaaa~hah?"
I blinked. I blinked again. I was lying down, and my arms were in view above me, flung up to prevent something. A familiar crack on the ceiling greeted me in the early morning light, a relic of the days when the warehouse was in disuse and disrepair.
"6:50 AM", the bedside clock helpfully provided.
It was… a dream?
I was breathing hard, and my heart pounded loudly in my ribcage. I shivered too; despite Brockton Bay's naturally warmer climate as well as summer's approach, the too-early morning was uncomfortable without the bedding's warmth. The futon I had kicked aside as well as the cold sweat of the nightmare added to the discomfort.
Most of my nightmare had faded from memory, and the wisps of vague imagery that was left slipped through my fingers even as I tried to recall what had frightened me so much. Whatever it was I had dreamt of in my sleep, I could remember only a few scattered scenes, and it had mostly involved… a raging downpour.
Oh.
Right.
Sitting up, I willed myself to calm down, ignoring as best I could the thought of too much rain and its obvious association. Naturally, not wanting to remember Endbringers only made me remember those monsters even more, and I sighed even as I cupped my head in my hands.
That was in the past, I reminded myself, and would stay in the past. Also, Endbringers or not, I was in America now. Chances are, I would not be this unlucky, and even if those monsters came, America was simply too big to suffer Japan's fate. And I intended to make the most of the fresh new start, charging through my new life at full throttle to the utmost, for the sake of Justice, Americaness, and… what was the third thing again? Ah, never mind that, it'll come to me.
I looked around my squatter's dwelling again as I almost ceremoniously knelt off my futon.
Right.
Big words for an illegal squatter… an unnaturally rich squatter, I amended as I looked at the corner of the ceiling. Above the tiles and inside a loose brick in the wall there was where I had hidden the windfall from the Undersiders. I was still undecided if I should stay here, or take the money to rent another room somewhere out there. Stretch out my funds as long as I could, or live in legality once again.
Folding and rolling my bedding off the floor, I stood up and turned around as I continued to ponder… and bumped into the sign.
I reached out a hand on instinct as it threatened to fall over, only for the futon threaten to fall out of my hands. I grabbed at the cloth with a sweep of the same hand, only to bump into the sign, the wooden construct bouncing off the wall as it started falling again. After a mess of half-remembered acrobatics, I managed to secure the half-unwrapped futon in a rough hug, the half-fallen sign safe within the crook of my left feet, and me almost falling over as I leaned against the salvaged cupboard I used for my clothes and bedding.
With a hop and a slow kick, I righted myself while setting the sign back upright.
"DO NOT GO OUTSIDE!!" declared the panel in big, bold letters, a message held up by a messily hacked-together tripod almost on the verge of falling apart. The wooden declaration swayed from side to side from my rescue as I frowned.
'Ah yes.' I pouted. 'That.'
***
Special thanks to (SB) DawnGazer, Mashadarof402, and (SV) Daniel14541, readerboy7 for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
They each get a dreamcatcher *.
* It's apparently an eldritch alien portal of vampiric witchcraft, if Stephen King has anything to say about that. Enohthree, I might or might not be able to get you some support, hang on there.
Here's to the start of a new arc.
Snip #30
I ran.
The uninterrupted torrent continued from the heavens. Thick clouds turned my surroundings into a wall of gray, a liquid curtain covering everything from view. It changed the formerly familiar neighborhood into an alien landscape, blurred any and all distinguishing landmarks into hints of darker shades, barely seen outlines in the gloom.
It was not helped by the water washing down my face, blinding my eyes even beneath my cupped hands. My ears were equally useless, any sound of note washed away by the steady roar of the thunderstorm and carried away by the howling of the winds. I almost could not feel anything when I tried to wipe my eyes, my hands and feet having long lost their feeling in the cold, my face similarly feeling like a mask.
I ran.
The sky lit up with a bolt of fury giving me a moment of too much light instead of the stretched monotony of too much darkness. An enormous thunderclap assaulted my ears in the same moment, the first different sound I had heard other than the rainfall, and equally unwelcome. For a brief, terrible moment my surroundings were awash in brilliant white. Shapes, outlines, buildings and objects, all lit up for a brief, sudden moment.
I saw the individual houses surrounding me, their sloped roofs showing above the perimeter walls. I saw the flooded road I was running on, the almost knee-high river more suitable for boats instead of cars. I saw the hazards I almost ran into; the abandoned car, the poles of the street lamps, the darkness of the drain missing its heavy safety covers.
And I saw my destination; a distinctive smooth curve of the dome slightly to my right, the tallest building in the neighborhood.
I ran.
I peered in the direction I barely remembered from a moment ago, looking into a world suddenly that much darker in the aftermath of that one brilliant moment of illumination. What little I could see of my surroundings was an uninterrupted mockery of a twilight fog. The waters sloshed their chill into my clothing as I bulled through the fast flowing stream, threatening to push me over and down, a fate I avoided probably only through sheer luck.
I- my steps faltered as I peered. I thought I had seen something in the darkness… there! Lights made themselves known, the first feature in my never-ending trek through the hostile world. They blinked where they were installed, beacons in the dark. The powerful lamps were dim but visible, and they drew the curve of the dome that was my destination in the darkened sky.
I ran.
I reached the dome of the Endbringer shelter moments later, on one of the sides without an entrance. Undeterred, I navigated slowly along the perimeter using faint guide-lights installed there for just this purpose, until I finally came to the facility's well-lit main entrance. My journey at an end, I relaxed as I took one hopeful step forward… before I froze.
Another bolt of heaven's fury boomed in the skies above my head, whitewashing my new surroundings just as suddenly as the first.
The sudden flash illuminated the humanoid in front of the shelter's gates, between me and safety.
It was a monster. It was THE monster.
It was tall, almost unnaturally so, and its arms were too long where its legs were too short. Its chest was top-heavy to the point of ridiculousness, and jagged rows of the monster's huge abs completed a cartoon caricature of a weightlifter. Its skin was mostly yellow, a stark contrast to its gray head, and the reflective slickness of the rainwater made the non-existent clothing look like skintight body stocking.
In the fading echo of the thunderclap, the monster turned to look behind itself.
I was on my knees, made weak by the terror I felt from the mythical being. The floodwaters felt like glue as my limbs refused to move, as I was caught in the sight of its one red eye.
It raised its right hand to its side. Webbed claws of a red limb closed slowly, deliberately, as if the monster was savoring the moment it took to form a fist. The skin where a mouth should be stretched, forming a smile without lips beneath three glowing eyes.
It turned its face towards the Endbringer shelter, the towering bulwark of metal and concrete, a human-made mountain of safety, a defiance against the most powerful monsters Earth Bet had to offer.
Somehow, I knew what would happen next. I raised my arm towards the shelter. Towards the monster, reaching out as if I could grab it, stop it, despite knowing it was a futile gesture.
I was unable to stop what was going to happen, but equally unable to stop my want to prevent what would happen.
It pulled back its fist. It took one step towards the fortress, towards the thousands of helpless sheltered within.
My mouth was open, and I screamed even as I choked on the rain.
It punched…
***
"GYAAAAAAAaaaaa~hah?"
I blinked. I blinked again. I was lying down, and my arms were in view above me, flung up to prevent something. A familiar crack on the ceiling greeted me in the early morning light, a relic of the days when the warehouse was in disuse and disrepair.
"6:50 AM", the bedside clock helpfully provided.
It was… a dream?
I was breathing hard, and my heart pounded loudly in my ribcage. I shivered too; despite Brockton Bay's naturally warmer climate as well as summer's approach, the too-early morning was uncomfortable without the bedding's warmth. The futon I had kicked aside as well as the cold sweat of the nightmare added to the discomfort.
Most of my nightmare had faded from memory, and the wisps of vague imagery that was left slipped through my fingers even as I tried to recall what had frightened me so much. Whatever it was I had dreamt of in my sleep, I could remember only a few scattered scenes, and it had mostly involved… a raging downpour.
Oh.
Right.
Sitting up, I willed myself to calm down, ignoring as best I could the thought of too much rain and its obvious association. Naturally, not wanting to remember Endbringers only made me remember those monsters even more, and I sighed even as I cupped my head in my hands.
That was in the past, I reminded myself, and would stay in the past. Also, Endbringers or not, I was in America now. Chances are, I would not be this unlucky, and even if those monsters came, America was simply too big to suffer Japan's fate. And I intended to make the most of the fresh new start, charging through my new life at full throttle to the utmost, for the sake of Justice, Americaness, and… what was the third thing again? Ah, never mind that, it'll come to me.
I looked around my squatter's dwelling again as I almost ceremoniously knelt off my futon.
Right.
Big words for an illegal squatter… an unnaturally rich squatter, I amended as I looked at the corner of the ceiling. Above the tiles and inside a loose brick in the wall there was where I had hidden the windfall from the Undersiders. I was still undecided if I should stay here, or take the money to rent another room somewhere out there. Stretch out my funds as long as I could, or live in legality once again.
Folding and rolling my bedding off the floor, I stood up and turned around as I continued to ponder… and bumped into the sign.
I reached out a hand on instinct as it threatened to fall over, only for the futon threaten to fall out of my hands. I grabbed at the cloth with a sweep of the same hand, only to bump into the sign, the wooden construct bouncing off the wall as it started falling again. After a mess of half-remembered acrobatics, I managed to secure the half-unwrapped futon in a rough hug, the half-fallen sign safe within the crook of my left feet, and me almost falling over as I leaned against the salvaged cupboard I used for my clothes and bedding.
With a hop and a slow kick, I righted myself while setting the sign back upright.
"DO NOT GO OUTSIDE!!" declared the panel in big, bold letters, a message held up by a messily hacked-together tripod almost on the verge of falling apart. The wooden declaration swayed from side to side from my rescue as I frowned.
'Ah yes.' I pouted. 'That.'
***
Special thanks to (SB) DawnGazer, Mashadarof402, and (SV) Daniel14541, readerboy7 for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
They each get a dreamcatcher *.
* It's apparently an eldritch alien portal of vampiric witchcraft, if Stephen King has anything to say about that. Enohthree, I might or might not be able to get you some support, hang on there.
Last edited:
Naw. He just has some really bad sunburns, and
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
Given that he punched out half a hill... Take a guess
Oh, and another note: I was going through the (other) thread again, and I spotted one or two unindexed Omakes, which I am STILL undecided whether or not should be in the index...
...
So, do you guys have any suggestions on how I should manage those?
earthboy
(verified ape)
- Location
- NYC
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Try it. If you don't like it, get rid of it.
YUIOP10
radicalized
- Location
- California
*Checks 4chan at 11:30 AM PST*
Well, nothing seems to be new here, time to switch tabs-
http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2015-03-07/one-punch-man-manga-gets-tv-anime/.85713
Is this real
This can't be
No fucking way
HOLY SHIT
AKJCNSIFB:Oahndf:nAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Well, nothing seems to be new here, time to switch tabs-
http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2015-03-07/one-punch-man-manga-gets-tv-anime/.85713
Is this real
This can't be
No fucking way
HOLY SHIT
AKJCNSIFB:Oahndf:nAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
!*Checks 4chan at 11:30 AM PST*
Well, nothing seems to be new here, time to switch tabs-
http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2015-03-07/one-punch-man-manga-gets-tv-anime/.85713
Is this real
This can't be
No fucking way
HOLY SHIT
AKJCNSIFB:Oahndf:nAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
...
I wonder if they would parody DBZ. You know, like:
*Episode 1*
*10 minutes of glorious, glorious EXPLOSIONS from Vaccine man*
(Note, 10 minutes is a LOT of screentime. Just saying)
Vaccine man: What's that? A crying schoolgirl?
*2 minutes of suspense as Vaccine man slowly reaches forward... his hand getting bigger and more inhuman by the second*
(Note, 2 minutes is also a LOT of screentime, for suspense, for a single action. Just saying again)
*Last Minute Rescue!!*
Vaccine man: ... wot? Who're you?!
Saitama: I'm a person who heroes for a hobby!
*5 minutes of wall-of-text exposition as Vaccine man declares his distain and his mission to Simon *
*10 minutes of Vaccine man POWERING UP*
"Die!!"
*
*1 minute of Simon's shocked/disappointment face*
*End credits, with Simon going "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..." in the background*
(Note, that's only 8 words out of our hero's mouth, and thirty or so seconds of screentime. For the entire episode. Just saying in conclusion)
Last edited:
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance for *bzzzzt*fzzzzzt*
Ahem. Allright, showtime. Do Not Adjust your sets. This is a not a test. For you see, I have taken over all the broadcasts in the area! Radio, Television, Webcast, I now have control of almost all entertainment, news and gossip that matters. I now have the POWER of multimedia conglomerates, and that means I'll have the heart and minds of all you poor, poor sheeple soon enough!
Bow down and obey your future lord and mas...
Sam? Sam, are you down there?
Oh.
You forgot to take out the garbage again, Sam. That makes this what, the third time?
Mon!? I'm in the middle of SOMETHING!! Don't you ever KNOCK!?
And... you're on the internet again, are you? Are you browsing for smut again?
Mum, that was one time! ONE SINGLE TIME! And if you even bothered to knock like I told you, for goodness sake, you wouldn't...
Don't take that tone with me, Mister Sam Tannis. I'm your mother, and that means I don't need to knock.
That doesn't even make SENSE!! And...
Oh! Oh hi there! What a beautiful lady. She's too nice to be a hooker... Is she your girlfriend, Sam?
What are you even talking about.... oh SHIT! *furious typing*
Hello Missus Tannis. I'm not Sam's girlfriend. And don't bother, Sam Tannis. You can't close the connection now. I'm on my way.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!! *Starts pulling out and cutting wires and cables*
Your mouth, those words! Don't take that tone with that nice lady, Sam.
It's alright Missus Tannis. I'm used to...
*bzzzzt*fzzzzzt*
...
...
...
Erm... Yeah.
This is a general call for Beta assistance. We need your help to deal with... you know... that kid.
Ahem. Allright, showtime. Do Not Adjust your sets. This is a not a test. For you see, I have taken over all the broadcasts in the area! Radio, Television, Webcast, I now have control of almost all entertainment, news and gossip that matters. I now have the POWER of multimedia conglomerates, and that means I'll have the heart and minds of all you poor, poor sheeple soon enough!
Bow down and obey your future lord and mas...
Sam? Sam, are you down there?
Oh.
You forgot to take out the garbage again, Sam. That makes this what, the third time?
Mon!? I'm in the middle of SOMETHING!! Don't you ever KNOCK!?
And... you're on the internet again, are you? Are you browsing for smut again?
Mum, that was one time! ONE SINGLE TIME! And if you even bothered to knock like I told you, for goodness sake, you wouldn't...
Don't take that tone with me, Mister Sam Tannis. I'm your mother, and that means I don't need to knock.
That doesn't even make SENSE!! And...
Oh! Oh hi there! What a beautiful lady. She's too nice to be a hooker... Is she your girlfriend, Sam?
What are you even talking about.... oh SHIT! *furious typing*
Hello Missus Tannis. I'm not Sam's girlfriend. And don't bother, Sam Tannis. You can't close the connection now. I'm on my way.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!! *Starts pulling out and cutting wires and cables*
Your mouth, those words! Don't take that tone with that nice lady, Sam.
It's alright Missus Tannis. I'm used to...
*bzzzzt*fzzzzzt*
...
...
...
Erm... Yeah.
This is a general call for Beta assistance. We need your help to deal with... you know... that kid.
Last edited:
- Location
- gmt+ 12
I'm in for being a β.
#31 (Arc 7)
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
Snip #31
Taylor
Monday.
For me, it was another day I spent skipping school. And I realized I didn't care about that anymore.
It used to be my truancy would bring feelings of guilt as I thought of how Dad would feel when he found out. Or how I'd feel depressed as I remembered the talks I had with my Mom instead, and her wish to see me graduate from college. Or I would feel anger at the trio turning my high school life into a living hell.
But now? School just wasn't important to me. I was making a bigger difference to Brockton Bay in mere days than years of education could possibly hope to match. During the last seven days, we had encountered villains several times, the results of which no doubt left the Bay a safer place to live in.
A warm fuzzy feeling came over me as I recalled our accomplishments all over again.
To start with, there was that first trio, the E88 kidnappers who had grabbed me while I was jogging. The bank robbery followed shortly afterwards, where we helped the Wards and a surprise New Wave guest star fight off the Undersiders and the Travellers.
It was also where I saw a hint of Simon's true power for the first time. I still remembered the rest of that day passing in a hazy afterthought of astonishment and glee.
That was followed by the amazing fisticuffs we had with the Empire capes in Capitol Hill Park, two days later. And not just with any third rate E88 cape, but Hookwolf himself, one of the most brutally effective parahumans in Brockton Bay.
There was also some assistance from Coil's mercenaries, something I unfortunately knew only after the fact. The taste of bile in my mouth was only softened by the schadenfreude of imagining hardened mercenaries re-remembering the fight which had utterly destroyed the racist enforcer, no doubt waking up screaming from their nightmares.
After experiencing the level of those two parahuman fights, everything else was small potatoes… physically. But small crimes were still crimes which would impact lives, and I believe resolving even those were important in their own way.
However, I would admit we didn't go looking for trouble; trouble usually found us instead, the crimes we came across mostly by coincidence.
I was sure if we went out on patrols to look for trouble and seek out the bad guys directly, we could have found more evildoers and done much more. But still, the main point was we did not remain as bystanders to a crime. We did what we could to make things better. We helped. I helped! I, Taylor Hebert, was actively making Brockton Bay a safer place to live in!
Even if it was just us standing there, watching the obviously-guilty-as-hell troublemakers running away.
Abandoning their would-be victims, some retreated loudly, almost intelligible noises filling the air as they hightailed away, while others devoted every breath to maintain the speed of their dead sprints. In particular, those who were dressed in red and black tended to add "Gray Runner" into their strings of desperate curses and panicked screams, as if to advertise to the world just WHOM they were running from.
Simon simply continued on his jogging route, sometimes shrugging at their antics as he beckoned me to follow despite my protests.
He also ignored that one teenage gang fight we literally ran into, but the same could not be said in the other direction. Someone spotted Simon and shouted, and the rival groups who had been brawling in their little skirmish immediately panicked. The resulting stampede caused an impromptu Three Stooges sketch as almost half of the youthful toughs tried to cram themselves into the small entrance of an alleyway.
They didn't even notice when Simon left them behind despite my protests.
The Merchant drug vendor we found could not be so easily ignored, however. We had spotted the dealer piled into a getaway vehicle with two of his fellows, but he had tumbled out of the open door when the vehicle violently accelerated. The abandoned man had such a look of horror as he limped a few steps towards where the car had gone, before he threw himself onto his knees in front of my partner. Grabbing the sleeves of Simon's replacement sweatshirt, he desperately begged for mercy, promising to give himself up to the authorities, clean up his life, and 'even' to 'donate' child care payments to his ex-wife from now on.
With a few sighs along the way, we were 'forced' to 'march' our limping 'captive' to a nearby BBPD post, where the policemen we accosted not only took him in... but also tried to 'invite' us inside, to record 'statements' and 'receive their thanks'.
Hello? I wasn't born yesterday; I grabbed Simon's hand and we rapidly left the area.
And then there was the store robber, whom we encountered when I accompanied Simon to shop for his groceries, aka. getting anything other than instant noodles, eggs or coffee. Seriously… back to the robber. The obvious criminal was standing at the counter, a thirty or so man living up to the stereotype: he was built like an ox, dressed scruffily, was unshaven and unkempt, and with tattoos inked all over his body. He brandished a shotgun, waving it wildly at the shopkeeper as he demanded money loudly, cocking the weapon in the middle of curses.
It was the first time I saw Simon proactively fighting crime, not that I saw a lot of it; a blink later, the ruffian was slumping onto the ground with white bubbles frothing from his mouth as Simon bent his weapon in half.
On a sidenote, we got big discounts from that store as thanks, which Simon immediately abused to get us an entire mountain of canned, preserved and instant food piled high atop a shopping cart.
I frowned as I recalled yet another argument, with him hiding behind the shopping cart as I threatened him with fresh bundles of broccoli. Simon Tama was absolutely TERRIFYING in a fight, but you wouldn't believe it from his antics. I was partners with him, and I still could not reconcile the image I had with reality, that he and his reputation had been doing all the…
I frowned, my steps faltering.
'What had I really helped with?' I came to a stop as I realized: I hadn't really contributed.
I wasn't able to make a meaningful difference for both big cape fights. Not during the bank robbery, after Simon's punch accidentally pulverized my bug swarm twice. Not during the Capitol Hill fight , another shockwave interrupting my takedown of the six or seven that were within my range, a mere pittance when compared to the forty or fifty E88 ambushers and their capes.
I did not react fast enough to matter for happenstances on the streets. I did not have his reputation to scare hardened criminals into surrender. I did nothing to help with any crime we found. It was always over before I could do anything.
Everything that had happened was solved almost entirely by Simon himself.
He had done almost everything by himself.
I… did nothing at all.
Fuck...
Fuck No!
I refuse to accept that I wasn't making a difference. Obviously, I wasn't as capable or powerful as Simon, nor had I gone out into the world of capes as much as he had. But I was sure I assisted in my own way.
My power had range and utility, clearly evidenced by all the times I found out something before Simon did. My power also wasn't weak; I was perfectly capable of taking down my opponents on my own, evidenced by those E88 in Capitol Hill. If Simon's punch hadn't interrupted, I was sure I would have worked my way through the rest of the E88 goons, eventually.
And then there was the stuff outside cape fights. My backpack was heavy with the printouts from the library, reams of Who's Who of the major heroes on the American Eastern seaboard cape scene. I had presented a basic summary of what I dug out on cape vigilante acquisition laws earlier on Friday, 'No, Simon, you can't loot everything that's not nailed down', and hopefully by tomorrow I would have gathered enough layman's understanding to talk about how to perform a citizen's arrest without the cops trying to arrest us instead.
There. I was helping, I thought as I walked forward with a new spring in my steps. No ifs or buts about it.
That being said, I may have to do something about my lack of physical contribution.
Maybe I should start with improving my response speed? It always took sometime to gather a swarm big enough for a new situation, during which Simon would have punched out the problem of the moment. Maybe I should keep a swarm with me all the time and have them follow me?
No, that would be too highly visible… or…
I imagined a carpet of crawlies hiding beneath my clothes, and shuddered. No, I was not keeping the bugs under my clothes for now.
Maybe I should play to my strengths instead? I should use some flies as early scouts? That would give me enough early warning to gather the swarm before we physically ran into it? It was worth a shot I guess.
On another note, I had to speak to Simon about all the friendly fire going on. As awe-inspiring as it was every time Simon pulled out one of those epic punches, the aftereffects and shockwaves weren't too friendly on my bugs…
… truth be told, the aftereffects of Simon's punches weren't too friendly on anything nearby.
It was five days ago when Simon took out Hookwolf. That meant it was five days ago when Simon took out half of Capitol Hill Park. That devastation, a mere side effect of the cape fight, occurred right in the middle of Brockton Bay's affluent Downtown, and kicked off a media frenzy that was still going strong today.
Facts were repeated on every news report every other hour, of the park being cordoned off, still inaccessible to the public. Of the few unlucky people who were nearby, held for observations inside the hospital despite their minor injuries.
Water, gas and sometimes electric utilities being interrupted for large areas of Downtown, sometimes for days. Road repaving and building maintenance crews all over the area, repairing the cracks that had formed all over.
And the statements of every VIP and famous personality of note, proclaiming shock and horror towards the "devastation" that had occurred, promising "swift retribution", while hiding behind "ongoing investigations" and "lack of information".
Five days where speculations and hearsay ran rife, full of analysis and interviews by people who should know better, further analyzed by 'experts' dragged into studios by the bundle, 'heem'ing and 'haa'ing their way into more analyses and interviews.
The lack of any new details since then was probably driving the networks a little crazy; late night shows were starting to speak of a boogieman prowling the streets. Reporters mobbed the PRT and Protectorate heroes at every opportunity, up to and including chasing Wards on their patrols. Statements were demanded from the law agencies often and again, who had by then defaulted all their responses to "No Comment". And even some of the news anchors were looking a bit worn and frazzled, dropping their professionalism at having to regurgitate the same old story yet again.
But what I took away most from everything in the news was: we were in the middle of a media frenzy we needed to avoid.
We needed to lay low.
A fact I had yet to get through Simon's thick skull.
Despite my protests… I scoffed with a bit of bitterness at how often that little phrase appeared recently. Despite that, Simon would still go outside daily. He would continue his exercise regime without fail, something he was astoundingly stubborn with.
And the worst part was he went out jogging with his sweatshirt and pants, apparently the only pair of exercise sweats he had left. It was the exact same copy of his previous jogging outfit, which was the 'uniform' of the Gray Runner persona that was one of the top contending rumors all over the Parahuman Online forums.
And he refused to go out and buy something different, despite my protests!
Was he ASKING to be found, to be arrested!?
It was why I was in the Docks this early in the morning today. Simon usually slept in late, and I would be able to catch him before he left for a morning run I intended to stop.
I had to lie to Dad just to get here, saying I had forgotten my textbooks in school, and I had to go early to complete some homework due today. Dad had complimented me in response, petting my head while reminding me to stay safe.
I still felt a bit guilty at that.
But preventing Simon from getting arrested was far more important. He was the person who would rescue Brockton Bay from all the villain gangs, and I would keep him safe. I would physically stop him if I needed to!
I rounded the corner, a block and a half from my destination. On a whim, I began to take control of my bugs, trying out my 'response speed' idea by sending some scouts into Simon's room.
My steps faltered.
I sent the mosquitoes in another orbit around the room. The empty room.
GODDAMMIT!!
***
Special thanks to (SB) addikhabbo, DawnGazer and (SV) readerboy7 for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
They each get a day's supply in snack foods*.
* Oh crap, the expiry date's gone two years ago, and the mold inside has gone and formed civilizations. Shit. Enohthree, prepare the civilization nukurators. We need to go save mankind from its own foolishness! *powers up the microwave*
Taylor
Monday.
For me, it was another day I spent skipping school. And I realized I didn't care about that anymore.
It used to be my truancy would bring feelings of guilt as I thought of how Dad would feel when he found out. Or how I'd feel depressed as I remembered the talks I had with my Mom instead, and her wish to see me graduate from college. Or I would feel anger at the trio turning my high school life into a living hell.
But now? School just wasn't important to me. I was making a bigger difference to Brockton Bay in mere days than years of education could possibly hope to match. During the last seven days, we had encountered villains several times, the results of which no doubt left the Bay a safer place to live in.
A warm fuzzy feeling came over me as I recalled our accomplishments all over again.
To start with, there was that first trio, the E88 kidnappers who had grabbed me while I was jogging. The bank robbery followed shortly afterwards, where we helped the Wards and a surprise New Wave guest star fight off the Undersiders and the Travellers.
It was also where I saw a hint of Simon's true power for the first time. I still remembered the rest of that day passing in a hazy afterthought of astonishment and glee.
That was followed by the amazing fisticuffs we had with the Empire capes in Capitol Hill Park, two days later. And not just with any third rate E88 cape, but Hookwolf himself, one of the most brutally effective parahumans in Brockton Bay.
There was also some assistance from Coil's mercenaries, something I unfortunately knew only after the fact. The taste of bile in my mouth was only softened by the schadenfreude of imagining hardened mercenaries re-remembering the fight which had utterly destroyed the racist enforcer, no doubt waking up screaming from their nightmares.
After experiencing the level of those two parahuman fights, everything else was small potatoes… physically. But small crimes were still crimes which would impact lives, and I believe resolving even those were important in their own way.
However, I would admit we didn't go looking for trouble; trouble usually found us instead, the crimes we came across mostly by coincidence.
I was sure if we went out on patrols to look for trouble and seek out the bad guys directly, we could have found more evildoers and done much more. But still, the main point was we did not remain as bystanders to a crime. We did what we could to make things better. We helped. I helped! I, Taylor Hebert, was actively making Brockton Bay a safer place to live in!
Even if it was just us standing there, watching the obviously-guilty-as-hell troublemakers running away.
Abandoning their would-be victims, some retreated loudly, almost intelligible noises filling the air as they hightailed away, while others devoted every breath to maintain the speed of their dead sprints. In particular, those who were dressed in red and black tended to add "Gray Runner" into their strings of desperate curses and panicked screams, as if to advertise to the world just WHOM they were running from.
Simon simply continued on his jogging route, sometimes shrugging at their antics as he beckoned me to follow despite my protests.
He also ignored that one teenage gang fight we literally ran into, but the same could not be said in the other direction. Someone spotted Simon and shouted, and the rival groups who had been brawling in their little skirmish immediately panicked. The resulting stampede caused an impromptu Three Stooges sketch as almost half of the youthful toughs tried to cram themselves into the small entrance of an alleyway.
They didn't even notice when Simon left them behind despite my protests.
The Merchant drug vendor we found could not be so easily ignored, however. We had spotted the dealer piled into a getaway vehicle with two of his fellows, but he had tumbled out of the open door when the vehicle violently accelerated. The abandoned man had such a look of horror as he limped a few steps towards where the car had gone, before he threw himself onto his knees in front of my partner. Grabbing the sleeves of Simon's replacement sweatshirt, he desperately begged for mercy, promising to give himself up to the authorities, clean up his life, and 'even' to 'donate' child care payments to his ex-wife from now on.
With a few sighs along the way, we were 'forced' to 'march' our limping 'captive' to a nearby BBPD post, where the policemen we accosted not only took him in... but also tried to 'invite' us inside, to record 'statements' and 'receive their thanks'.
Hello? I wasn't born yesterday; I grabbed Simon's hand and we rapidly left the area.
And then there was the store robber, whom we encountered when I accompanied Simon to shop for his groceries, aka. getting anything other than instant noodles, eggs or coffee. Seriously… back to the robber. The obvious criminal was standing at the counter, a thirty or so man living up to the stereotype: he was built like an ox, dressed scruffily, was unshaven and unkempt, and with tattoos inked all over his body. He brandished a shotgun, waving it wildly at the shopkeeper as he demanded money loudly, cocking the weapon in the middle of curses.
It was the first time I saw Simon proactively fighting crime, not that I saw a lot of it; a blink later, the ruffian was slumping onto the ground with white bubbles frothing from his mouth as Simon bent his weapon in half.
On a sidenote, we got big discounts from that store as thanks, which Simon immediately abused to get us an entire mountain of canned, preserved and instant food piled high atop a shopping cart.
I frowned as I recalled yet another argument, with him hiding behind the shopping cart as I threatened him with fresh bundles of broccoli. Simon Tama was absolutely TERRIFYING in a fight, but you wouldn't believe it from his antics. I was partners with him, and I still could not reconcile the image I had with reality, that he and his reputation had been doing all the…
I frowned, my steps faltering.
'What had I really helped with?' I came to a stop as I realized: I hadn't really contributed.
I wasn't able to make a meaningful difference for both big cape fights. Not during the bank robbery, after Simon's punch accidentally pulverized my bug swarm twice. Not during the Capitol Hill fight , another shockwave interrupting my takedown of the six or seven that were within my range, a mere pittance when compared to the forty or fifty E88 ambushers and their capes.
I did not react fast enough to matter for happenstances on the streets. I did not have his reputation to scare hardened criminals into surrender. I did nothing to help with any crime we found. It was always over before I could do anything.
Everything that had happened was solved almost entirely by Simon himself.
He had done almost everything by himself.
I… did nothing at all.
Fuck...
Fuck No!
I refuse to accept that I wasn't making a difference. Obviously, I wasn't as capable or powerful as Simon, nor had I gone out into the world of capes as much as he had. But I was sure I assisted in my own way.
My power had range and utility, clearly evidenced by all the times I found out something before Simon did. My power also wasn't weak; I was perfectly capable of taking down my opponents on my own, evidenced by those E88 in Capitol Hill. If Simon's punch hadn't interrupted, I was sure I would have worked my way through the rest of the E88 goons, eventually.
And then there was the stuff outside cape fights. My backpack was heavy with the printouts from the library, reams of Who's Who of the major heroes on the American Eastern seaboard cape scene. I had presented a basic summary of what I dug out on cape vigilante acquisition laws earlier on Friday, 'No, Simon, you can't loot everything that's not nailed down', and hopefully by tomorrow I would have gathered enough layman's understanding to talk about how to perform a citizen's arrest without the cops trying to arrest us instead.
There. I was helping, I thought as I walked forward with a new spring in my steps. No ifs or buts about it.
That being said, I may have to do something about my lack of physical contribution.
Maybe I should start with improving my response speed? It always took sometime to gather a swarm big enough for a new situation, during which Simon would have punched out the problem of the moment. Maybe I should keep a swarm with me all the time and have them follow me?
No, that would be too highly visible… or…
I imagined a carpet of crawlies hiding beneath my clothes, and shuddered. No, I was not keeping the bugs under my clothes for now.
Maybe I should play to my strengths instead? I should use some flies as early scouts? That would give me enough early warning to gather the swarm before we physically ran into it? It was worth a shot I guess.
On another note, I had to speak to Simon about all the friendly fire going on. As awe-inspiring as it was every time Simon pulled out one of those epic punches, the aftereffects and shockwaves weren't too friendly on my bugs…
… truth be told, the aftereffects of Simon's punches weren't too friendly on anything nearby.
It was five days ago when Simon took out Hookwolf. That meant it was five days ago when Simon took out half of Capitol Hill Park. That devastation, a mere side effect of the cape fight, occurred right in the middle of Brockton Bay's affluent Downtown, and kicked off a media frenzy that was still going strong today.
Facts were repeated on every news report every other hour, of the park being cordoned off, still inaccessible to the public. Of the few unlucky people who were nearby, held for observations inside the hospital despite their minor injuries.
Water, gas and sometimes electric utilities being interrupted for large areas of Downtown, sometimes for days. Road repaving and building maintenance crews all over the area, repairing the cracks that had formed all over.
And the statements of every VIP and famous personality of note, proclaiming shock and horror towards the "devastation" that had occurred, promising "swift retribution", while hiding behind "ongoing investigations" and "lack of information".
Five days where speculations and hearsay ran rife, full of analysis and interviews by people who should know better, further analyzed by 'experts' dragged into studios by the bundle, 'heem'ing and 'haa'ing their way into more analyses and interviews.
The lack of any new details since then was probably driving the networks a little crazy; late night shows were starting to speak of a boogieman prowling the streets. Reporters mobbed the PRT and Protectorate heroes at every opportunity, up to and including chasing Wards on their patrols. Statements were demanded from the law agencies often and again, who had by then defaulted all their responses to "No Comment". And even some of the news anchors were looking a bit worn and frazzled, dropping their professionalism at having to regurgitate the same old story yet again.
But what I took away most from everything in the news was: we were in the middle of a media frenzy we needed to avoid.
We needed to lay low.
A fact I had yet to get through Simon's thick skull.
Despite my protests… I scoffed with a bit of bitterness at how often that little phrase appeared recently. Despite that, Simon would still go outside daily. He would continue his exercise regime without fail, something he was astoundingly stubborn with.
And the worst part was he went out jogging with his sweatshirt and pants, apparently the only pair of exercise sweats he had left. It was the exact same copy of his previous jogging outfit, which was the 'uniform' of the Gray Runner persona that was one of the top contending rumors all over the Parahuman Online forums.
And he refused to go out and buy something different, despite my protests!
Was he ASKING to be found, to be arrested!?
It was why I was in the Docks this early in the morning today. Simon usually slept in late, and I would be able to catch him before he left for a morning run I intended to stop.
I had to lie to Dad just to get here, saying I had forgotten my textbooks in school, and I had to go early to complete some homework due today. Dad had complimented me in response, petting my head while reminding me to stay safe.
I still felt a bit guilty at that.
But preventing Simon from getting arrested was far more important. He was the person who would rescue Brockton Bay from all the villain gangs, and I would keep him safe. I would physically stop him if I needed to!
I rounded the corner, a block and a half from my destination. On a whim, I began to take control of my bugs, trying out my 'response speed' idea by sending some scouts into Simon's room.
My steps faltered.
I sent the mosquitoes in another orbit around the room. The empty room.
GODDAMMIT!!
***
Special thanks to (SB) addikhabbo, DawnGazer and (SV) readerboy7 for showing up to help with Beta support. And hidden betas Enohthree too.
They each get a day's supply in snack foods*.
* Oh crap, the expiry date's gone two years ago, and the mold inside has gone and formed civilizations. Shit. Enohthree, prepare the civilization nukurators. We need to go save mankind from its own foolishness! *powers up the microwave*
Last edited:
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
Being Taylor is suffering. Just a different kind of suffering this time.
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*Checks 4chan at 11:30 AM PST*
Well, nothing seems to be new here, time to switch tabs-
http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2015-03-07/one-punch-man-manga-gets-tv-anime/.85713
Is this real
This can't be
No fucking way
HOLY SHIT
AKJCNSIFB:Oahndf:nAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
All. Of. My. YES.
When that gets over here, I will be watching the shit out of it.
wkz
Probably on the other side of the world from you
This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance for Meh, I can take them all!
Be advised, the Danger code is "Wolf"! Mister Multiple-Personality has gone off the rocker again, and you know how hard he is to find when he thinks he is someone else!!
Once again: This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance...
Be advised, the Danger code is "Wolf"! Mister Multiple-Personality has gone off the rocker again, and you know how hard he is to find when he thinks he is someone else!!
Once again: This is a general call for Beta assistance! I repeat! This is a general call for Beta assistance...
