Complications 2.7A
The Brockton Bay Central Bank was busy as usual. Dozens of people waited in several lines to accomplish their banking-based errands.
Among those in need of the bank's services was New Wave's own Panacea, although as she wasn't in costume, she liked to be referred to as Amy.
Today wasn't a good day for Amy, not at all. Her sister had spent most of the school day nuzzling up to her boyfriend and that had stirred up a hornet's nests of emotions that she didn't really feel like analyzing. Not to mention, Chris had been trying to talk to ask her out in his own subtle way. His methods were obviously less than subtle if Vicky could pick up on it. Now she had to hope that Vicky didn't try to set up her own 'Glorious Date!!!'(
™) for her and Chris.
However, the cause of her irritation right now was something a bit more petty.
'Oh, hurry up...'
'...come on, what are you even doing?'
'Oh God and Scion, what I would give for some special treatment right now? Would it be too much to ask for my own line? I save lives here!'
The bank itself was the issue.
Amy had always disliked banks and she felt she was perfectly justified in feeling that way. And why shouldn't she?
They combined several things she hated into one big, annoying place and Brockton Bay Central was no different.
Long lines, customers in front of her who always had ridiculous and complicated transactions, and the annoying tellers. Scion, she hated those tellers.
The second they saw her name, they always wanted to talk to her about something stupid before she could get done with her actual bank-related business. Always so fake and smiley. Asking her about her day, her family, her fucking entire life story. She knew that they knew that she knew they didn't care.
They were doing it for one reason and one reason only.
'Oh, Panacea, I think I might have the flu. Can you help me out?'
'It's not flu...and for wasting my time, you have AIDS.'
'Panacea, please help me out. My girlfriend's gonna dump me! Just an inch or two.'
'Fuck you and your girlfriend. Oh wait, you can't.... you have no dick.'
'Oh, Panacea, I was thinking about getting plastic surgery. Could you do a gal a favor and boost me up a few cup sizes?'
'Here...now you'll never need to buy milk again.'
'One favor. You know, we're friends, right. I have this zit right here. Could you help me out?'
'...Drown in your acne and die.'
She had to deal with shit like that all the time. And if she didn't help them out, they'd bitch at her the whole time she was at the teller and make the whole thing take forever. Just once, she wished that she could say or do something instead of just having fun imagining it. 'But no, I'm Panacea, a hero. A hero wouldn't do that.'
Her inner rant against the banking system and the annoying tellers that serviced it was suddenly halted as her ears were suddenly assaulted by a sound that made her freeze for a moment.
A loud noise suddenly came from somewhere outside the bank, like the deep, rough barking of some sort of massive dog. Something about that seemed very familiar...what exactly was familiar about it seemed to be escaping her at the moment, though.
She turned around quickly, trying to see what was going on. Before she could even see the entrance of the bank, everything went black.
For an instant, she thought she was blind.
That instant passed when the darkness began to recede, converging in a dark haze at the center of the bank. As her hearing returned to her, the sound of people's screaming hit her eardrums and she choked on a scream as a swarm of bugs crawled, slithered, creeped, wriggled, squirmed
, flew from the dark fog and flooded the bank floor. Nearly everyone in the bank rushed back, Amy included, running toward the walls in an attempt to avoid the biblical swarm of insects.
The bugs apparently did not appreciate that as they immediately began to herd everyone towards the center of the bank lobby.
She felt her gut sink even more as a group of costumed individuals appeared from that fading haze. She recognized them on sight. New Wave often held bi-weekly briefings to go over tactics concerning Brockton Bay's villain community and the team in front of them had been the topic of many a discussion.
'The Undersiders...these assholes.'
Tattletale stood in front, a gun in her hand, smirking as her eyes trailed over every single person in the entire bank. Regent stood to her right, a silver crown on his head, twirling a silver scepter around like some demented jester. Grue was on the far left, darkness leaking from his motorcycle helmet and leather long-coat, creating an aura of black fog that surrounded his team. Hellhound stood behind the other three, her arms and legs disproportionately large, grotesquely discolored and covered with bumps, spikes and odd growths. Next to her stood a long-haired figure in a jet-black costume that screamed 'I'm the one with the bugs!' simply from the design of the mask itself.
She didn't know the bug girl's name...which was great.
'Undersiders got a new member. Wonder-fucking-ful...What the...HOLY SHIT!'
All the terrified screams in the Bank ceased almost instantly as something...no, three somethings leapt out of Grue's jacket and everyone in the bank caught sight of something even more terrifying than the supervillains.
If someone had asked Amy if they were dogs, she might have said yes...maybe.
They could have been dogs, right? Possibly.
If dogs were seven feet tall.
If dogs had skin that looked like pulverized hamburger meat left to rot in the sun.
If dogs had teeth the size of butcher knives.
If dogs had giant bone spikes jutting from their skin in random places.
Until they didn't look like they could swallow her whole, the same way a puppy could swallow a treat, she'd never think of them as dogs. No, they were monsters.
Amy's eye twitched as she took in the appearance of the newest villain team to hit Brockton Bay with their massive mounts and she clenched her fist in anger. 'Why did they have to pick now...while I'm still in here? Fuck these guys!'
"Fifteen minutes," spoke the bug girl in a calm, resolute tone. "We won't be here any longer than that. Stay put, stay quiet, stay on the ground. We'll be gone before fifteen minutes are up. You'll be free to give your statement to the police and then go about your day as usual. This isn't a TV show, this isn't a movie. If you're thinking about being a hero, don't. Seriously, don't be a hero. You'll only get yourself or someone else hurt. You see those bugs, they're only in place to prevent you from doing anything stupid. Just stay in the circle. They won't enter that circle unless you give me a reason."
She was really convincing, Amy had to admit that. The instructions were simple, they sounded reasonable and no one wanted to get hurt. After sharing some scared looks among each other, every single person in the bank, herself included, followed her instructions, hesitantly getting on the ground. What was she supposed to do right now? She was strictly touch-based. 'Maybe if they stayed still and didn't move at all for ten seconds, I could knock them out. As if...Scion damnit, fuck banks!'
Fuck banks, indeed. Above every single other reason, there was one major motivation behind Amy's hatred of banks. Something she knew occurred somewhat often but never expected to happen while she was
IN one. 'I mean, come the fuck on! Right now, though! What are the fucking odds?'
Banks were huge targets for villains. It was a fact. A fact she fucking hated.
As Amy lowered herself to the ground, she eyed the almost uncountable swarm of insects that kept her and all the other hostages corralled in the lobby and noticed the unnatural way all the flying, crawling, slithering bugs were just waiting in place, making a perfect circle around the hostages. God, it was almost creepier this way. Having hundreds of thousands of bugs just in the same room as you was more terrifying than any gun. These guys were good.
With a sigh, Amy curled in on herself and did her best to hide her face. What better hostage could someone have than Panacea? She just knew that Carol would never let her forget about it.
Besides, she really didn't need to be a target today.
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MedHall Pharmaceuticals
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His office, like many things Maximus Anders owned, was large and ostentatious. Built on the top floor of a skyscraper with large floor to ceiling windows, it was filled with all sorts of metal sculptures and statues.
Some people would find that odd. After all, Max Anders didn't seem the type to be too into art.
Metal seemed to be a motif for Mr. Anders. At least in design. Metal floor, metal ceiling, metal bookcases, metal chairs and last but certainly not least, a large, ornate and most of all, imposing, metal and glass desk.
Everything in the room screamed wealth, power and influence. If no one stopped him, Greg might have simply poked around it for hours. That is, if his attention wasn't being drawn by the rather courteous verbal battle taking place in front of him.
"Mr. Anders, while your offer does seem to have merit, you have to understand the position we're in. My client is a limited resource that is in high demand," spoke a smooth, cultured voice with a slight Spanish accent.
"Oh, I'm well aware of that. That's why I made him the offer that I did," retorted a voice that was, while not quite as cultured, still rather eloquent.
"...Forgive me if I'm overstepping here, but it just seems like you're trying to cheat him out of a fair deal."
"What? He's my godson. Why would I want to cheat him? I believe that the offer I made is quite generous," Maxim said calmly, settling back into his large leather business chair.
"If you say so..."
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Max stared quietly at the gentleman sitting directly in front of his large ninety-inch ornate metal and glass desk. "I do say so, Mr. Calle," Max replied, his expression still an unperturbed smile.
Quinn Calle chuckled softly, the spit curl from his silky black hair bouncing as his shoulders shook. "The thing is, Mr. Anders, I have made a business of assisting capes. And my assistance is obviously needed in this situation. Ms. Veder called me for a reason...correct?"
Both handsome, well-dressed men slowly turned to face Susan and she immediately shrunk in on herself.
"Umm...well," Susan mumbled, quickly focusing on straightening the jacket of her black pantsuit in an attempt to gather her thoughts. Why, oh why, were they asking her questions? Their conversation...their subtle arguing...GAH! It had just been so distracting and...'Why did they have to be so handsome? A smooth Latin lawyer who puts his life on the line helping capes or a charming CEO with a piercing stare who could have a whole secret life behind closed doors with handcuffs, black latex andwaitwhatamITHINKING? NO, NO, NO! Scion damnit, Susan! Stop reading those books!'
As Susan slowly dragged her mind out of the gutter it was in, she scrambled to think of something to say. She had no idea this whole thing would turn out like this. She only called Mr. Quinn this morning and told him the situation because she had heard that he was one of the best cape lawyers around and she didn't want to go into business without having a good lawyer. She didn't expect him to come right over once she told him the entire situation. She most definitely didn't expect to speak to Max today. She was pretty sure she had said some rather inappropriate things yesterday. 'Oh sweet Scion, they're still looking at me! What should I say? What should I say?'
"I...um...I didn't want...I just thought some legal advice would...be...helpful. Everything was just happening so quickly," she squeaked out.
Mr. Calle's smile achieved a level of satisfaction that Greg honestly found rather impressive. Smug without being too smug. Impressive. Evron could learn something from this guy.
He turned from Greg's mother and faced Max once more. "You see, Mr. Anders, Ms. Veder just needed some legal advice."
Greg and his mother sighed almost simultaneously as they watched Max once again enter a stare-down with their newly hired lawyer. Both of them still had pleasant smiles on their faces but Greg could almost sense the distaste running between them. Then again, they were two successful men. Massive egos were in play.
"Let's be clear on one thing, Mr. Anders. Mr. Veder here," Quinn paused, glancing over at Greg on his left, "is a limited resource that is in high demand in today's society. Not only is he a rather powerful cape, he's unmasked. The public would flock to him."
Max kept his eyes on Quinn, his demeanor still unruffled. "I do understand your point. However, he's also rather young. What you're asking for seems rather exorbitant given the fact that he's only been out for one night. The public has no idea who he is."
Mr. Calle's smile became positively devious as Max spoke and for a second Max wondered what the man was thinking. He didn't have to wonder much longer.
"You obviously haven't been on the Parahumans Online forum, Mr. Anders. People from New York down to California are clamoring to find out about the cape who defeated Lung. He's almost as popular as that mysterious Hyperion fellow. Youth. Power. Beauty. Mr. Veder has those in spades. He's a precious resource, Mr. Anders. Your company makes more than drugs. You produce soft drinks, teas, soaps, deodorant, and a few other items. In a year or two, Superior will be a household name all over America. Greg could go to other companies, bigger companies. I could have this boy's face on a Nike ad by Monday. You want his name backing your company? Make my client a better offer."
Quinn stopped speaking and the room was silent once again. Although, this time it wasn't due to a staring contest between the two men in suits.
In the tense silence that followed, Greg and his mom shared a few looks and more than a few gestures. Greg wasn't sure what half of them meant but he was pretty sure his mom wanted him to say something.
Clearing his throat, Greg leaned forward, freeing himself from the plush lining of the white guest chair. "Uhh...Mr. Calle?"
"Yes, Greg?"
Greg sat up straight and flashed an awkward smile at his godfather and lawyer. Simply being in the same room as these two was stressful. The way they spoke, the way they moved, even their expressions...these guys were just so...rich. Hell, those suits were probably more expensive than his mom's car by themselves. Greg swallowed slowly as he took in their appearances once again.
Despite their differing racial backgrounds, the two men were eerily similar. They both had meticulously styled hair, expensive custom suits (Quinn wore tan, Max wore black), and those scary smiles...Max's was hungry, shark-like, even while Quinn's was patient, sneaky, somewhat like a snake.
Huh...that actually fit. The business shark and the snake-like lawyer.
Right now, Greg just felt so...out of his league. Glancing over at his mom, he noticed her red face as she continued to stare at the two men. 'She probably feels out of her league too.'
Greg glanced back at the two men, lingering once more on their well-groomed hair and expensive custom suits. He felt a tinge of heat in his cheeks, noticing that he looked a bit ridiculous in his simple white shirt, black tie, slacks and sneakers. Oh, and how could he forget, his fucking Mohawk.
"Mr. Calle, I don't think...see, me and...My mother and I never actually heard any offer. You just looked at a piece of paper and said 'No deal,'" Greg answered.
A look of faint surprise appeared on both Mr. Calle's and Max's face as well. "Ah...," Quinn finally responded after a few moments of silence. "Isn't this embarrassing?"
Greg cocked his head slightly in confusion. 'Don't tell me that you two were enjoying yourselves so much you forgot we were here.'
"The thing is, when you've been a lawyer as long as I have, you get used to clients letting you do the talking. I sincerely apologize for that, Mr. Veder, Ms. Veder," he responded, his charming smile eliciting a slight shudder from his mother.
Quinn reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a small folded slip of white paper, roughly twice the size of a post-it note.
"I don't know what you were expecting, but this is his first offer," he continued, offering the note to Greg.
He took the note from Mr. Calle and opened it slowly, his mother reading over his shoulder.
Greg's eyes widened as soon as they fell on the paper.
The note fell from his fingers shortly before his mother collapsed into her seat, clutching her chest.
"...a million dollar a year contract...for 5 years?", asked Greg, breathing heavily. "That sounds amazing!"
"Except it's not," interrupted Calle. "That's nothing. Chump change...athletes get more than that. You don't understand your value, Greg but I think your godfather does." Turning back to Max, he uncrossed his legs and stood up, looming over the seated CEO with his full height of six feet, two inches. "My final offer...five million dollars a year for five years plus the little bonus you mentioned earlier. That's the deal, Mr. Anders. It's up to you to take it."
Max raised one eyebrow quizzically but his gray eyes never left Quinn's hazel ones. "...And if I don't?"
Quinn turned to give Greg and his mother a quick glance before returning to Max. "Then someone else will. I'm sure Apple wouldn't mind taking him off your hands."
Max stood up quickly, placing his hands on his desk and leaning forward. He wasn't quite as tall as Quinn but there wasn't much difference. He stared directly at his opponent, a bright, beaming smile on his face that just screamed insincerity. "Mr. Calle, I like you. I really do. You do good work. If it wasn't for the fact that you exclusively handled parahumans, you'd be my personal lawyer. Since you work for my godson, I'll accept your deal."
"Wonderful. Have your people send the contract to my office."
"I'll have that done by tomorrow."
"Perfect."
The two shook on it, still flashing each other those wide, predatory grins.
Greg and his mother stood up to join them. His mother stepped towards Mr. Calle, shaking his hand firmly. "Susan, thank you for this opportunity. I'll make sure to represent your son to the best of my ability. And don't worry about today...I'm waiving the fee."
"Thank you, Mr. Calle. You have no idea how much this means to me."
While his mother continued to thank his lawyer, Greg was busy talking to his godfather who was now his new boss, as well.
"Sorry about this, Uncle Max. I didn't know Quinn was gonna be like that. I thought he was just gonna be there to...I dunno...give advice."
Max chuckled softly. "No problem. Honestly, I'm glad you brought him. He has skill and he's a lawyer. Besides, he's more invested in this than you are. The more money you have...the more you can pay him with. Isn't that right, Calle?"
Quinn sighed, still smiling. "I do have to make money, after all. Besides, I'm sure the Veders understand." Glancing at Greg, he nodded. "You do understand, don't you?"
Greg shrugged. "I...don't really care. I need a lawyer and you're the best cape lawyer on the East Coast so...yeah. It'd make no sense for you not to want money."
Quinn's eyes flicked to Susan. "Ms. Veder?"
She flashed him a smile. "If Greg's fine with it, I'm fine with it."
"Well, if everything's settled, then there's only one thing left to do," Max began.
Greg cocked his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
His mother was curious as well. "Yeah, Max, what do you mean?"
Max only smiled at them. Slowly reaching into his jacket pocket, Max brought out an angular white and silver device and held it out. "This is for you, Greg."
Taking hold of the device, Greg looked it over carefully, noting the crown logo on the back. "Is this...is this a new phone? You're giving me a new phone? Thanks, Uncle Max."
"It's more than a new phone. I purchased this from Toybox," he began, folding his hands together. "It's a phone designed to supplement your heroing. It's connected to a little twenty-four hour group that I set up. Constantly scanning police radio and alerting you in case of an emergency. Determining the severity of the situation and giving you a rating for it, navigation to guide you to the location of said situation and a direct line to the PRT Emergency Line. You'll never have to worry about having a signal and it's rather durable as well."
An odd look passed over Greg's face and he glanced down at the shiny device in his hands. "Durable...How durable?"
Max's smile dissapeared and was replaced with a blank expression. "...Please don't test it, Greg. It's supposed to be able to take multiple blows from a sledgehammer. I don't think it would survive
you actively trying to destroy it."
Greg nodded. "Fair enough."
"Anyway, it's solar powered, water-proof, temperature resistant and ,theoretically, should function anywhere on Earth. Regardless, I still wante-" Max paused as a loud and rather high-pitched noise suddenly interrupted him.
"
bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip-bib-bip"
The phone in Greg's hands made that noise as it turned on automatically, the logo of a crown appearing on the screen. A few seconds later, text appeared on the screen.
Code P10-90 at Brockton Bay Central Bank.
Robbery in Progress.
Parahuman Suspects Likely.
PRT notified.
"Holy...," Greg paused and turned to the three other people in the office room. "There's a robbery at Brockton Bay Central. There might be some capes there."
"...Do you want to go?", asked Susan.
"Yes, why not? Get yourself out there. Let the people know you. Show them what Superior's all about," Max replied.
"But...look at me! I'm not dressed to fight!," Greg shouted.
Quinn nodded, rubbing his goatee. "True. Maybe you should sit this one out."
Susan took his hand. "It's okay if you don't want to go, sweetie...not that I don't want you to go. If you want to go, you can go...follow your dreams."
Greg scrunched up his face in confusion and gave his mother a questioning stare.
"What do you want from me? How many mothers do you think wants their son running into danger? Huh? Don't give me that look. I'm doing my best here trying to deal with all of this," she replied with a huff.
Greg shrugged, trying not to laugh at the pout on his mother's face. "Fair enough. I'm not sure I want to fight crime like this though. I'd look kind of dumb."
Max chuckled at Greg's statement, a derisive, mocking chuckle that caused everyone to turn and look at him. "Oh...excuse me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just can't believe what I'm hearing."
"What do you mean?", Greg asked, crossing his arms.
Max leaned forward, his nose almost touching his steepled fingers. "You don't want to stop a bank robbery...because you're worried you'll look stupid in a dress shirt and tie?"
"NO! I just mean...heroes have costumes. Lung burnt my costume off. I can't fight crime without a costume. I'll look ridiculous. It'll be embarrassing," he replied, shaking his head.
Max nodded in understanding. "Ah...I get it now. You're not scared of the criminals, you're scared of them making fun of you. That makes perfect sense."
Greg felt his cheeks heating up and he spluttered, anger causing him to stumble over his words. "N-n-no! That's not...not it! T-that's not it at all!"
A tilt of the head and a single eye raise was Max's only response.
"It's not like that!", Greg shouted.
"Then why are you scared?"
"I'm not!"
Max's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh...you're not? Then why don't you want to go?"
"I do!"
Without Max seeming to move a muscle, a single pane on the wall-to-ceiling window opened up and wind whipped into the office, surprising Greg slightly and shocking both Susan and Mr. Calle, although he hid his reaction much better. Max simply raised an eyebrow. "Then hurry up. The bank's barely ten miles away."
Greg turned to face Max, his eyes red, and growled.
Max yawned. "Was that supposed to scare me?"
Greg dropped the phone on his godfather's desk and turned away.
Without saying a single word, he jumped from the top floor.
The office was silent as the window returned to it's former position.
"Really, Max?", Susan said, finally. "I mean, really?"
Quinn shook his head. "I agree. I doubt that was necessary."
Rolling his eyes, Max settled even further into his plush desk chair and pulled out a cigar, biting it harshly.
"It worked, didn't it?"
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By the time Greg landed on the closest roof, his clip-on tie had been ripped off by the wind.
His blonde Mohawk blew in the wind as he moved like a man possessed, avoiding obstacles with ease. Leaping across the skyline of Brockton Bay, he cleared two or three roofs at a time, landing almost perfectly with each bound.
Despite his graceful movements, his chest was filled with a faint heat that he recognized as rage and his eyes were a bright red hue, a sure sign of his anger.
'Does he think I'm stupid?' Greg thought to himself, jumping over a smokestack without even paying attention. 'I know he was playing me. He knew that I knew but he still did it! Who does he think he is?'
He ignored the faint voice inside him that said "The guy paying you five million dollars."
Greg shook his head, trying to clear his head. He couldn't afford to be occupied right now.
There was a bank robbery. People were in danger. They needed him.
Flipping off a rooftop, he deftly landed on the mostly empty sidewalk below and sped off, shocking a homeless man into dropping his hat full of coins.
"Sorry, old man!" Greg called out behind him, not looking back. He doubted the guy heard him, anyway. At this speed, he probably only saw a blur.
Speed. That reminded him...He had to move it!
A minute after he had started running, his sneakers had already started breaking apart.
Two minutes later, he was moving as fast as a race car and completely barefoot.
'The bank!' The Brockton Bay Central Bank was in front of him. Well, it was about a mile and a half away but that was nothing at his speed. Slowing down, Greg began to approach the bank at a pace much closer to the speed limit as he scoped out the situation.
No capes were outside yet but there were plenty of cops. So he was the first hero here, huh. Maybe he should stop? Talk to the police. See what's going on. He contemplated it for an instant before changing his mind.
'Villains are inside. People could be hurt.' With that in mind, Greg moved without thinking.
He leapt.
As he crashed through the window of Brockton Bay Central, the combination of his velocity and the impact of his body on glass completely ripped his white dress shirt apart, exposing his rather sculpted upper body.
Greg landed on the marble floor of the bank with bent knees, spider-web cracks spreading from the point of impact.
"Stop, criminals! Or...huh?"
Almost immediately, Greg froze as he took in the sight in front of him.
Apparently, he was wrong. He wasn't the first hero here.
Bug Girl was here...and so was her team...except the pretty blonde...oh, and they brought their giant monster dog-things. Were they bigger? They looked kinda bigger.
Greg's eyes widened in surprise and he stepped forward. "Hey, guys! You're here! Did you already catch the bad guys?"
Bug Girl didn't say anything. In fact, she took a step back. Make that several steps.
Her team didn't move a muscle. All of them just stared at Greg as if he had a second head.
"Guys, something up?"
No words.
Something was off here, but Greg wasn't sure what. He looked around and noticed something kinda weird.
A stack of several canvas bags were piled behind Grue. 'Okay, they confiscated the money.'
There was a massive swarm of insects in the shape of a circle in the center of the bank. 'Bug Girl brought her bugs, of course. Nothing weird there.'
Inside it was a large group of people, dozens probably, huddled on the floor and staring at him with weird looks on their faces. 'Maybe one of the bank robbers is in that crowd.'
One frizzy haired brunette girl was the odd one out, standing instead of crouching like everyone else. For some reason, she seemed oddly familiar.
'Oh, there's the blonde girl...Tattletale.' Tattletale was standing away from the group, just outside of the circle of bugs. She seemed to be smiling at him, the same smile his mother always had on her face when she was trying not to scream in frustration. For some odd reason, she had a gun in her hand...and was aiming it at the frizzy-haired girl...who was looking more and more familiar.
'...holy hell, that's Panacea...but why does Tattletale have a gun on Panacea? She's a hero...that seems.....weird.'
For the second time since he entered the bank, Greg froze. This time, because he remembered something. Something Assault had mentioned on Monday night.
'Those aren't heroes, kid. They're a bunch of young small-time villains called The Undersiders.....Ow, Puppy!'
'Oh, fuck me sideways.'
Greg sighed slowly, his face drooping. "...you guys are the bad guys, aren't you?"
As he said that, Bitch seemed to come back to life, as she glanced between her dogs and him.
Tattletale's mouth dropped open and she screamed. "No!!!"
She was too late.
"KILL!," Bitch shouted, her voice harsh and guttural.
Her dogs ran at Greg, the three of them attacking him at once.
For an instant, Greg felt the icy grip of fear in his chest, locking up his muscles and shocking him into inaction...then it was gone.
His muscles tensed and his vision slowed down as Zirin rushed through his entire body in preparation for a fight. This was it. This was what he had powers for! Fights like these! He had a pleasant feeling that he was going to enjoy this.
Leaping into the air to meet the first dog beast, Greg cocked his fist back to deliver a concrete-shattering strike.
Then it all went to shit.
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If there was someone in this world that Amy could say she personally hated, it would be Tattletale, that bitch.
It wasn't enough to single her out as a hero, announcing her identity to the rest of the bank. Those idiots even had the nerve to glare at her like it was her fault the bank was being robbed or that she couldn't save them. What did they want from her? Never mind that she had probably cured at least one of their relatives of cancer. No, she had to kick bad guy butt like Vicky.
Hell to the no! She was strictly touch based and support only. She couldn't even heal herself. What was she actually going to do against a whole team of villains? Bleed all over them? Pfft..fucking idiots.
Anyway, back to the bitch. Tattletale had then noticed the phone in her pocket and figured out she had called for help. Apparently, the bitch was actually psychic as she knew she had texted her sister. And if that wasn't enough, she knew her secrets...all three of them.
Amy hated Tattletale more than she thought possible. She had even considered running up to her and just giving her a heart attack with a single touch. They wouldn't kill her but she didn't. Instead, she sat there while Tattletale taunted her by hinting at her deepest, darkest secrets in public. She couldn't do anything and it infuriated her.
That was why, when the shirtless cape crashed through the bank window, she had relished the fearful look on Tattletale's face. Amy recognized the cape. Who wouldn't? The Mohawk on that boyish face was rather distinctive. The powerful not-cape who took down Lung. By the look of terror on Tattletale's face, she had met him as well.
It had been enough to put a smile on Amy's face. That smile only increased when Superior had addressed the Undersiders as friends.
"Hey, guys! You're here! Did you already catch the bad guys?"
That was her first clue that something delightful was going to happen.
And not delightful in the good way, like lollipops and rainbows. Delightful in the best way, like revenge and pain.
Her second clue that things were about to go down was the way their new member, the one controlling the bugs, had started backing away.
The third and final clue was the anguished look on Tattletale's face just before she screamed. "No!"
"Kill!!!," screamed Hellhound.
All three of her monsters rushed Superior at once. One rushed from the front while two attacked from the sides.
He jumped at the one attacking from the front, a fist pulled back. I knew how much strength was in his muscles. This would be over quickly.
That's when things went wrong.
Superior suddenly spasmed violently, his arm cracking from the rapid, uncontrolled movement, and a look of pain crossed his face.
Panacea glanced at Regent and noticed him holding a hand out. 'Shit...'
The beast closest to him caught him in his mouth and closed it's massive jaws around his arm.
The scream that came from Superior was more rage than pain. His screams only increased when another creature bit down on his other arm. The third tore into his leg. All three of the monstrosities tugged at him, treating his body like a chew tow.
The sight and sound of muscles being ripped apart as the cape screamed was too much for most of the civilians. A few of them vomited. It didn't bother her, though. Fortunately for her...or unfortunately, depending on your line of thought, Panacea had seen much, much, much worse.
"Grue! Portal! How long?"
Panacea turned to look at Tattletale as she screamed at Grue, a mild note of panic in her tone.
"At least another ten minutes," responded Grue, his tone deep and powerful. "I had to carry all of us and the dogs. That took a lot out of me. We're going to have to run for it."
"SHIT!" "Fuck!" Both Tattletale and the bug girl cursed at the same time.
'Come on, Vicky. Where are you? Get here qui-' Amy's thought pattern was suddenly cut off as Regent suddenly spoke up.
"Tats, he's resisting!"
"He's what?!!" the girl shrieked.
"It's like he can fight me off!" the scepter-wielding boy responded. "I can't hold him much longer."
The bug girl suddenly gasped in sudden shock. "Guys, the Wards are here!"
"WHAT!!!!" Tattletale's scream was more a statement than a question. "Scion fucking damn it! How many?"
"All of them, except Shadow Stalker."
"Tattletale! You said we'd be fine!!!" Grue screamed, his tone ringing with barely controlled panic.
"I know what I said. I say a lot of things! Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'm right, okay!!!" Tattletale kneaded her temples roughly, almost as if she thought she could massage her brain into a breakthrough. "How much time do we have till he breaks out?"
Regent flinched
. "...no time."
Amy glanced back at the monsters. The three of them were huddled around the boy, their teeth ripping and tearing his skin. She couldn't really understand the Undersiders' fear. Nothing seemed to have changed.
"
RAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
With a thunderous slam, the beasts were sent flying
through the walls with a flash of red light.
'Oh my god! Oh my God! Oh my God!' He stood up slowly and as she caught sight of him, she felt something that she could only describe as her sister's fear aura on steroids. Now she could understand the Undersiders' fear. She could definitely understand it.
Amy found herself backing up and found that she wasn't alone in her fear. Several people around her were little more than gibbering wrecks and a few more were throwing up, possibly the same ones as before.
Part of his eye was missing, while the other was little more than a pit of red fire. Blood flowed freely down his face and chest while lacerations and bite marks all over his body clearly showed bone. His right pant leg was little more than tatters, showing how deeply one of the dog beasts had damaged his thigh with it's jaws.
Superior slowly turned his head to face the Undersiders. Bitch in particular, and his red eye seemed to flash. With a roar, he burst into a run, destroying tiles beneath him with his powerful strides.
Bitch and Grue, the two members of the Undersiders who seemed to be mostly unaffected by his Master effect, charged at the same time he moved. Grue stretched out a hand and shadowy tentacles burst from the sleeves of his long coat. Bitch ran at Superior, swinging at him with the massive growths on her arms.
Grue's tentacles wrapped around his arms, surprising the raging cape for an instant and giving Bitch the chance to get in close and punch him in the face, sending him skidding back and ruining the bank floor even more.
With another roar, he rushed forward again mindlessly. This time, bugs swarmed him, blinding him. Their stinging and biting only served to enrage him even more. He barreled through the wall of bugs in time for Grue's tentacles to reach him again.
Amy shuddered as she witnessed Superior's mouth open in a vicious, brutal grin and she suddenly realized that behind that rage, there was still a cunning mind. Superior side-stepped Grue's tendrils and pulled on them with all his force. The villain was sent hurtling towards Superior's waiting fist at the speed of a car.
Amy almost closed her eyes in expectation of the gruesome death that was bound to happen. She was a health professional, not a sadist. Just because she was used to injury and death didn't mean she liked to see it happen.
Superior's fist rocketed forward but thankfully for the sake of Grue's life, more tendrils emerged from his coat and wrapped themselves around his body, creating some sort of ebony shield.
As Superior's fist slammed into his shield, the black shield was sent rocketing upwards into the ceiling before bouncing back down and Grue emerged from it, dizzy but not too much worse for wear. Several tendrils coiled from his jacket and he used them as legs while hanging over ten feet in the air. Even more shadowy limbs wrapped around Tattletale, Regent and the bug girl, eliciting several girlish shrieks of surprise and a joke about tentacles that shouldn't be repeated, all of the above just from Regent.
"That's it. We're leaving!!!" Grue screamed.
"What about Bitch?" shouted the bug girl.
Bitch was busy engaging Superior in hand-to-hand combat. Apparently, only having one eye caused you to lack depth perception and misjudge distances. The girl was avoiding his wild swings and hammering the battered cape with brutal strikes, aiming for his open, bleeding wounds. A quick strike to his blind side, driving her overgrown fist into his empty eye socket, jump back as he flails wildly in pain, jump forward. She slammed her knee into his damaged tibia, eliciting a loud crack and a pained roar and she followed it up with an uppercut to his broken jaw, sending the red-eyed boy sprawling. She took a quick moment to dig into his ribs with a jab. As he howled in pain, Bitch quickly dodged to the side to avoid his lunge and jabbed his side again.
As she struck him once more in his broken ribs, she was suddenly pulled from behind by one of Grue's tendrils wrapped around her waist, eliciting a growl from the girl.
"Shut up, Bitch!"
Superior rushed at Grue only to be hit by dozens of tendrils that Grue sent flying with a sweep of his hand.
These tendrils were unconnected to Grue's body and wrapped around Superior's body tightly, preventing him from gathering any leverage. The raging cape fell to the floor, roaring all the while.
Grue scaled the walls
"What about the money?!!"
"Fuck the money, Regent!!! We might still have to fight the Wards!"
"Come on!!! We risked our lives!!" Regent said, his tone more whining than pleading.
"Fuck, fine!!! I have enough juice left for this anyway!" Grue grabbed the bags with a loose tendril and tossed them into his jacket and they dissapeared. "There! Happy now?" he asked sarcastically, exhaustion audible in his voice.
Regent nodded imperiously, trying to joke in the stressful moment. "Very."
Grue growled and another tendril appeared in front of him, forming an ovoid shield, to protect him and his team, most likely from gunfire.
"Let's do this!!!"
Looking like some kind of demented octopus, his tendrils propelled him out the doors of the bank. Amy simply stood in the same place she had been the entire fight.
After a few moment's hesitation, the hostages ran out of the bank. Amy almost face-palmed at their shortsightedness, all of them so eager to escape the bank that they would run into a cape fight outside. Sure enough, judging by the screams outside, most of them had realized their blunder.
On the floor, Superior had stopped struggling in the bonds that Grue had forced him into as a look of realization crossed his bloody face. With a burst of red light, he burst free from his bindings and jumped upwards.
He glanced around, a violent grimace on his face, as if searching for someone else to fight. As he slowly realized that Amy was the only one in the bank, his eye focused on her.
To her horror, he slowly began walking towards her.
'What does he want? What does he want? Why me? What does...wait...wow.'
Her horror slowly turned to fascination as she noticed the changes happening on Superior's body.
A red aura had appeared on his wounds and before her eyes, they began to heal up quicker than she would have imagined possible. His eye grew back in mere moments, the useless bit of flesh falling out of his ocular cavity and landing on the bank floor. With every single step he took, torn muscle, damaged bone and giant lacerations all over his body righted themselves in seconds.
By the time he had gotten within a few yards of her, she noticed that every single wound on his body had disappeared, returning him to exactly to the way he was when he first crashed through the bank window, in all his shirtless, muscled glory.
As that last thought passed through her mind, Amy felt her cheeks heat up and she looked away from his chest and stared up into his eyes...his beautiful, once again, blue eyes. 'Bad idea, Amy. Look away, look away now!' And look away, she did. Amy decided that the floor needed to be studied.
'This is definitely going to cost a lot to repair. Huh, is that a dollar coin? Cool. Eww...dried blood on my shoes....Oh, god. He's still just standing there.' Despite her best to ignore the shirtless teenage boy in front of her, Amy knew she couldn't do it forever. 'Might as well get it over with.' Raising her head slowly, Amy gave Superior an awkward smile and a weak wave. "Hey..."
He returned her smile and Amy found herself wincing. 'Scion, so fucking bright. Who the hell has teeth that white? What, do you use acid as your mouthwash?...Fuck, a Brute like you? You probably could.' Amy shook her head to get those thoughts away as he began to speak.
"Hey, Panacea, could you fill me in with what just happened?"
"What?"
"Yeah, I don't really remember much after those...things dog-piled me," he replied, smiling sheepishly. With one hand, he raised a single hand to pat his Mohawk down.
Amy couldn't help herself and she let out a giggle. A very girlish giggle. 'What the hell? I don't giggle like that. I'm not Vicky. Speaking of Vicky, where is-'
As if on cue, a loud scream interrupted Amy's train of thought.
"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!!!"
The blood drained from Amy's face as soon as she heard that familiar scream. Before she could even move, the boy in front of her was suddenly hit by a golden comet moving at about a fourth the speed of sound, leaving her the only occupant in Brockton Bay Central Bank.
Amy sighed.
'...Damnit, Vicky.'