[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
- More help finding Coil.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
- Go to Armsmaster's funeral. Dragon is in attendance.
- Check with Mum and her doctors. Panacea has come and gone.
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
- More help finding Coil.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
- Go to Armsmaster's funeral. Dragon is in attendance.
- Check with Mum and her doctors. Panacea has come and gone.
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
- More help finding Coil.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
- Go to Armsmaster's funeral. Dragon is in attendance.
- Check with Mum and her doctors. Panacea has come and gone.
Sounds as good a plan as any, at least we can trust those three to help us catch Coil.
And I'm super glad my plan of action actually worked. Now all we can hope for is Krieg actually gets jailed rather than broken out
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
- More help finding Coil.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
- More help finding Coil.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
I wrote this as a scene transition, but cut it due to emotional whiplash and lame humor. References the first ten minutes of PoP: Warrior Within.
"Why does Krieg call you Missy?" You ask.
"He does it to annoy me. Some guys really like girls with guns."
"Creepy."
"Very. It rarely comes up. I only had to take legal action once. It still bothers me. A sleazy tabloid photo-shopped my head on the body of a Miss America model in a bikini-"
You very carefully avoid thinking about your boss in a bikini.
"-and they did a whole special edition. The worst was this fantasy foldout where she wore this skimpy metal thong-"
Not thinking about it.
"- and she was climbing stairs -"
Please stop.
"- and she had a ridiculously huge pair of -"
Don't say it!
"- swords. Why swords? I use guns, everyone knows I use guns."
Oh thank god you're not thinking of your boss' steel lace bikini breasts bouncing boobily as she titters up the stairs... Oh wait.
"Paradox, you're bleeding. Did Krieg break your nose? Do you need a medic?"
"Oh, hey, look there's my team way over there ready to go I have to run away right now and catch them bye."
Adhoc vote count started by Ablative Id on Jul 19, 2023 at 8:07 AM, finished with 6 posts and 5 votes.
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
[X] [Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
This is an excellent fic, and I can't believe it's not getting more views.
[X] [Learn] Tactics and standard operating procedure. When rolling Thinker dice in combat, the target is 4.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
This is an excellent fic, and I can't believe it's not getting more views.
[X] [Learn] Tactics and standard operating procedure. When rolling Thinker dice in combat, the target is 4.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
Kid Win is offering a device that can unmask Coil.
[X] [Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
I doubt it will be successful but I'm interested in the character dynamics and how it would work out. Plus, they seem willing.
Coil Campaign; Can we choose more than one?
[X] [Next] Discuss with your conspirators before you decide to call Coil. You still have the number he used to contact you.
I like how you said it 'Even if it doesn't unmask Coil, the extra voice sample will improve Kid Win's device.' Paradox can spam her sands of time to her advantage which is good. For conversation; her mother got bumped up the priority list so Panacea probably already healed her. Say you're interested but Coil needs to be more tempting; and no, father doesn't count.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
This will be a good continuation so we could chat with Dragon and confirm Mum's health. Hopefully it's just brief so we could continue with our campaign against the snake.
There's a bunch of reasons this isn't more popular:
I don't actively advertise. A few engaged players is better than a mass of random posts. Popularity brings its own problems. I think the number of watchers and voters is healthy enough for a work this size. Some more wouldn't hurt.
This game is basically the tragic spawn of two other tragedies. Depressing stories are never as popular as straight power fantasies. Niche appeal.
it's okay but not great. Could be better. For instance, I forgot to have Miss Militia ask about the trigger vision in the last update. The chapter "Hero of the Desert" was just poorly planned and executed. Crystalclear didn't have a single line despite nearly dying. The Dad scene needed toned down and/or better foreshadowing. There's a million other mistakes badly glossed over with a fast pace.
Slowish update speed. Getting slower because rushing makes the worst chapters and I'm busy.
By the nature of this game's origin, concept and themes, timing matters, and you never have enough time to do everything (unless you stab a dude). So every vote is a trap vote, from a certain point of view. Look at the amount of people saying something like "this won't work" or "I doubt it will be successful". A game you have to lose before you can win asks a lot from voters. Every voter is a hero, jumping in front of a bullet.
It's based on a 20 year old video game. 34 years old if you consider the whole series. The last big game was in 2008 and since then the IP has been trapped in mobile phone purgatory. How many people even remember Prince of Persia?
Yeah,like @KNM said, people like stories about Taylor-in-name-only. They're familiar and comfortable, like an old shoe.
More reasons. So many more reasons. Like using first person present perspective. Or weird dice rules.
By the way, has anyone noticed all the invisi-text? No one has mentioned it, but it's everywhere.
Huh, started ranting there. It's something I think about.
If there's a lot of interest, or if it's narratively important, I recycle scenes or give options to follow the path not taken. Eventually they get dropped.
Events change according to timing. Time is important in this story of a guy who controls time.
[X] [Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
This will be a good continuation so we could chat with Dragon and confirm Mum's health. Hopefully it's just brief so we could continue with our campaign against the snake.
I don't actively advertise. A few engaged players is better than a mass of random posts. Popularity brings its own problems. I think the number of watchers and voters is healthy enough for a work this size. Some more wouldn't hurt.
[Help] Accept the device. Start a conspiracy with Gallant, Kid Win and Triumph.
[Learn] Equipment handling. Marksmanship and vehicles. But most importantly: containment foam. Gain an extra 1d6t4 in combat, where containment foam or equipment can be used. Always carry a little handheld confoam sprayer with your costume.
[Next] Take Miss Militia's advice. Relax. Sort your life out.
Triumph's phone logs Coil's voice. Coil keeps this timeline. He noticed something.
You allow time to move forwards again. "Okay, this can work. But I'm not going to be around much for the the rest of the week. It's down to you guys, for now."
Kid Win despairs. "You're going to make us do all the work?"
Gallant nods. "Don't worry, we'll make time for you." You groan as Gallant chuckles. "I can't believe you used a catchphrase on Krieg. Clockblocker is going to be in stitches."
Kid Win checks his phone. "I sent him the video. He's laughing his ass off."
"There's a video? What video?"
"Oh, uh, I may have uploaded a video of your fight to PHO. Is that not okay?"
You groan harder. "It's fine, just, mortifying. I got butlered. He handed me my arse on a silver platter."
"No, you were cool. But sharing videos without approval is technically against regulation. I won't tell." Gallant - the older Ward who usually sets a good example - sounds happy about this misdemeanour. Why?
Wait, did he just Social Thinker you? A joke designed to distract you from the swirl of issues that Coil inspires to the insidious end of... making you feel better? That's... actually kind of nice, if manipulative.
He's watching these thoughts as they occur to you. What a guy. Too nice to hate, too nosy to like.
You give him a flat look. No need to hide your annoyance. "We should focus. Kid Win, could you do the thing?"
You give Kid Win your phone. He plugs it into his own. He hands it back.
"That was fast," you say.
"Oh, one day I was trying to program a remote teleporter I could call from a cellphone, but making a GPS tracking app was too hard. So I made a different app that could make apps based on other apps. It's easier that way."
You and Gallant stare. Kid Win shrugs. "Powers are bullshit?"
This fourteen year old is wise beyond his years.
The group splits up at PRT HQ. The Wards go to their underground base. You go to your small dorm room and unpack your suitcase.
You're going to take Miss Militia's advice. People are right to be worried. You're wound tight as a spring. Coilled up. There's a life outside of heroism that you've been neglecting.
You might need to find an ironing board first, because if you show up in these wrinkled clothes, that life will jump out of bed and slap you upside the head.
You really wish she would.
"Hi, Mum, it's me. Prince."
Outside the window, the hospital path glitters with sunshine filtered by golden autumn leaves. It's a beautiful day for bad news.
"You're looking well."
Panacea has worked a miracle, of sorts. A transformation. Mum's skin is not ashen; she's more than bones. She might be sleeping. The peaceful image is fractured by tubes and wires.
"Dad's not around, but I have his things here."
You unpack the kit you took from his suitcase. Hairbrush, nail clippers, and cosmetics. Dad started helping Mum with her appearance when chemotherapy made her too exhausted and confused. He continued when she collapsed and wouldn't wake up. Dad turned it into an act of worship.
"I left you alone for a while. Sorry. A lot has happened."
Unconsciously, the hairbrush moves to the beat of the life support machine.
"I have a new job. Did Dad tell you? I'm with the Protectorate. As a hero. Can you imagine?"
Gently turn Mum's head so you can brush the other side. Be careful of the breathing tube.
"They make you do a lot of training before they let you out. Or they're meant to. Sometimes it doesn't work out. I'm not sure Brockton Bay is a good place for heroes."
Her nails are getting long. The nail file rasps across them.
"Yesterday I passed a special equipment exam. I can legally drive and use a gun. Even at the same time. Don't worry, I'll be careful, and I'll stay away from guns. I haven't turned into a cowboy yet. But I can use other equipment. Like containment foam."
You dare not touch the cosmetics. That mascara brush could take an eye out. Dad knew what to do with them, you don't.
"I met the woman who invented confoam. Dragon is like an old comic book superhero. Larger than life and almost too good to be true. I saw Ahriman too. Sorry, I mean Scion. I keep slipping into Persian these days. It must be because of gran's old stories. Scion is very... very shiny."
You don't have to go further into the care routine - though you have before. The PRT gave you an esoteric grimoire known as "medical insurance." Somehow it makes nurses perform the biological duties of care work.
They leave the caring part of care work to you. It feels weird without Dad hovering.
You take Mum's hand. It's warm and lifeless.
"I'm not sure you can hear me. The doctor said the cancer metastasised into your brain. Panacea removed the cancer, but you lost parts that connect you to... the rest of you. Panacea can't do brains. Everything else, but not that. There's still a chance you'll recover."
The doctor didn't want to give you false hope. It's a phrase you've heard before. Sometimes hope is all you have. Sometimes hope is not enough.
Dad knew. He said the cancer was in Mum's brain. He probably knew Panacea's limitation. No wonder he exploded. Hope was dangled in front of him and snatched away. Then you came and did it again. He was a man in the desert, chasing mirages.
Coil knew. He told you this would happen. He offered hope and snake poison. He who holds the poison holds the cure.
If you had acted sooner, could you have prevented this?
You can't stay here anymore.
"I have to go and... apartment hunting. There are some nice flats around the Towers, really good cheap places."
Because no one wants to live in economically depressed, crime ridden, gang ruled Brockton Bay. But you can't say that. Mothers worry.
You get up and turn the radio on. A channel that reruns old music and radio theatre. Familiar sounds are supposed to stimulate recovery. No news, you hope. It might stress her.
"Bye, Mum. Get well soon."
You close the door and smile politely at the PRT trooper guarding Mum's private room. You keep the smile on until you reach a public bathroom.
No one inside? Good.
Your fist shatters the wall mirror, glass slices space to slivers. The next hit is on plaster, it explodes into dust, fills the air, cracks run up the bare wall. The third, forth, fifth punch breaks mortar and a brick falls into the hollow between walls.
The last seconds are spent inspecting your ragged knuckles. Then you use the dagger sheathed under your shirt.
The brick sets itself, the dust implodes, the mirror flies together and heals without a scar.
You see only yourself. No evidence remains of your feelings.
You wash your face and leave. There are several hours to kill before your apartment viewing. You'll go for a walk, maybe get lunch, maybe walk down a dark alley and hope someone tries to knife you.
It's a good thing Panacea isn't here because you're not sure you could stop yourself from ripping her head off.
The Wards's base has too many cameras and spies for a clandestine meeting. The next natural hangout is Fugly Bob's. If anyone there looks at a group of teens twice, it's because you're handsome.
Four teens of various ages share a corner booth. They wear no masks but share no names, just in case. Kid Win is in a padded winter jacket, while Gallant wears a collared shirt that's one necktie away from a casual business suit.
This is your first meeting with Triumph. He's a big, square jawed eighteen year old who could be mistaken for a load bearing structure if he would stop twitching when the door opens. He cunningly disguises himself with sunglasses and a Detroit Tigers baseball cap. He could do worse. He could support the Saitama Seibu Lions.
You smile, wave, claim a plastic chair fixed to the table and look over the menu. There's a burger named after Challenger but Gallant says don't even think about it. This burger eats you.
Burgers eaten - you had to split the challenger - you get down to business. "So what's the problem?"
Everyone look at Triumph. It takes some coaxing from Gallant before he admits "I don't know if I should say."
"Why not?"
"Because... he was at my house. We were eating dinner together when my phone chimed. That's all I'm willing to say."
Kid WIn and Gallant don't react, this isn't news to them. "What did you serve your guest? Baby chicks with a side of orphans?"
"They're not like that," Gallant says before Triumph can. "His family are very important people. This is part of something bigger."
"All I can hear is that you know exactly who is after me and my family but you won't tell me."
"Because I don't want to be like you!" Triumph slaps the table. Patrons glance over. He continues in a whisper. "I don't want him to know who unmasked him. We don't know how he knows things. What if my family becomes a target too?"
"Then you'll be in good company," you say without any real bite. It's a testament to how relaxing this week has been that you're only sarcastic. He has a pretty good reason to hesitate. "Give me something. How does your family know this man?"
Triumph sighs. He takes his sunglasses off. "I'm Rory Christner. My dad is Mayor Roy Christner. 'That man' was meeting with him."
Coil's civilian identity is in politics? Coil hasn't been very active lately. Is he preparing for some political event?
"What was the meeting about?"
"I don't know, the details were discussed in my dad's private office. Listen: I want out. I thought I just had to protect my team from Pig... from our employer. Not this. This is too real."
You turn to Kid Win and Gallant. Gallant looks between you and Triumph, unsure of who to support. Kid Win is trying to sink into his jacket and disappear.
"Do you guys know more?"
"We know who Rory's family is," Gallant says. "We don't who 'that man' is."
"Even you, Kid?"
The headless jacket shrugs. He is truly wise.
Triumph - Rory - puts his sunglasses back on. He's getting ready to leave.
Your best lead is also your weakest link. Maybe Triumph has a point. Coil is perfectly willing to go after family, as you know too well. Or maybe the best way to protect Triumph's family is to kill the snake before he finishes winding around them.
Are you willing to risk someone else turning into you?
You spend the first night in your new apartment looking up college prospectuses. Maybe a physics course for next year? A better understanding of how time works might give you a better grasp of your powers.
You go to sleep watching cat videos.
For once, there are no dreams.
[ You starve me. No matter. By your hand were chains broken, but it is I who am unfettered. Fate is mine to command. No one escapes. ]
The procession starts at PHQ. An American flag sits at half mast on top of the former oil rig. Squad cars solemnly escort two hearses down the shining light bridge.
It passes through the boardwalk. Passes long lines of people who bear silent witness. Passes downtown, passes PRT HQ where administration staff and troopers stand side by side on the street. A long, slow thread sewing the city together on the way to the cemetery. Not a moment goes unwitnessed.
Your job is to stand and watch. There are no bad guy to punch. There is no crime to stop. This is where heroism ends - with a blue and black armband over a silly costume.
Miss Militia and Assault get out of the leading cars and stand at attention with unmasked troops. The hearses stop. Their backs open. Coffins wrapped in American flags are carried out.
Assault - wearing a dark suit under his red armor - is the lead pallbearer for Battery. It's not so heavy for him. Battery's coffin is empty. Her real funeral was days ago, with friends and family. Many hands lighten even the most terrible load.
Miss Militia is the lead pallbearer for Armsmaster. Now there's a weight. She's carrying all his duties as well as her own. She's Protectorate leader, Wards leader, de facto executor, den mother, PRT intermediary and more. She's wearing a formal military uniform, long sleeved and a darker green, the iconic flag over her face. She tries to hide the exhaustion under makeup that she hasn't had much call to use before. She carries a very full coffin.
Chevalier makes a speech. Chevalier is one of the big names, someone two short steps away from leading the world wide Protectorate. You should be listening. But the media distract you. Hunched over blocky black cameras - a beady lens zooming in on the speakers, on the line of heroes with blue and black armbands, on the coffins hovering over their graves - they look like vultures.
The other big name is Dragon, stopping here on her way back from the Mexico City relief effort. For once she's not in a giant robot suit. She's in feminine, dark-green, full-body armor. The draconic theme is a suggestion of serpentine scales and discrete curves.
Rumor has it that Dragon suffers from a bad case of agoraphobia mitigated only by keeping several inches of armour between her and the world. It must be hard for her to appear almost human.
The speech ends. It was something about sacrifice and honor that leaves the civilian crowd in tears. You'll catch a rerun. The whole day feels as hollow as Battery's coffin.
This isn't a funeral. It's a PR event.
The coffins drop. The heroes throw dirt in the grave.
The vultures descend. They want to know how you feel.
You tell them to fuck off, you feel shitty. Then you rewind and give the same line you gave at your debut. The carrion feeders look for a fresher soundbite.
Velocity catches you most certainly not hiding from the reporters. He ushers you into an unmarked van and climbs in with you. Dauntless gives you a nod.
The van doesn't go to PRT HQ. It pulls up on a potholed street full of pawn shops, co-ops and liquor stores.
"Where are we?" You ask.
Velocity holds open an unmarked door. "Somer's Rock."
Inside are uneven wood floors, yellowing walls, and a ceiling stained black by decades of second hand smoke. Sunlight barely squeezes through the barred windows. Behind the counter is a bored teenage girl and an elaborate system of taps. On the wall is the hard stuff, shot glasses at the ready.
It's like someone took an old English pub and dropped it in the USA. You feel right at home.
Velocity holds up two fingers and points to a tap. You admire the ambience while the girl pours the pints.
Chevalier sits in a booth with Miss Militia and a woman wearing large plastic mouse ears. You hear Chevalier say "Armsmaster was one of my oldest friends. But he was also a dick."
"But he was your dick," the mouse says. "And you gotta love your dick. Don't ya, eh Missy? Eh?" She elbows Miss Militia, who bears the ribbing with practised stoicism. "Eh? Eh?"
You get it. This is the real funeral. A quiet place where a cape can drink and tell dick jokes without a media storm. A place to relax and grieve in your own way, over a toast for the fallen.
You reach for your beer. Velocity reaches it first and gives it to Dauntless.
"But why?"
"You're below age," Velocity points out. "Although, since it's a special occasion and all, I could be persuaded."
You're not sure if he's asking for a bribe or a bruising.
"Play nice, fellas." Dragon walks up to the bar. She moves her hands in a flurry.
The girl smiles and signs back. Dragon responds. The girl happily pours a new pint.
Okay, the bartender is deaf. That language barrier is going to make it harder to flirt with her. You'll find a way.
You reach for the drink placed before you. Dragon drags the glass towards her. It must be tease the new guy day. Every day is tease the new guy day.
"Sorry," Dragon says. "But you really are under the state drinking age."
Yet you can legally own and operate a firearm. "I've been in pubs before, I'm not going to get shit faced. I just want to pay respects."
"So do I," she says. "But I can't. Is that a new hand?"
"This?" Over your left hand is a gauntlet of leather and steel, eldritch patterns embossed in arcane filigree. A new element to your outfit. "It's actually a stylised foam sprayer. I applied for a confoam license and PR decided to work it into my costume. It's not as cool as it looks. The claws are blunt. It's not tinker work."
"No, but it is nicely made. See where the mechanism unlocks the trigger for a micro capsule? The conductive flange hooks into the nozzle and extends the electromagnetic containment field, preventing premature deployment. I was a little worried it would turn your hand into a foam brick before I saw it."
This woman is far, far smarter than you. All you know is they said it was like Spiderman's webshooters.
"Did you work on this kind of thing with Armsmaster?" You ask, smoothly moving the subject away from your ignorance.
"Yes. That and more. We often collaborated. I considered him my best friend. I believe I was his." Dragon rotates the pint glass on the counter. Not drinking from it, just examining it from another angle. She probably can't drink it through her solid face plate.
Velocity walks up to the counter and signals for a another round. "Armsmaster had friends? No offence, he was a good hero. But I worked with him for years and he never so much as said his real name."
"He told me," Dragon says. "Please don't ask. He's still protected under federal dual identity laws."
You wait for Velocity to take his drinks away before you ask. "Armsmaster seemed to be respected as a hero, but not much liked as a person. Why is that?"
"He was a very focused man. Sometimes that focus meant people were not given the priority they feel they deserve. He had few outside ties to ground him and a lot of ambition. We were alike that way. Neither of us have much life outside of the cape scene."
You don't know what to say to that.
Dragon breaks her silence. "My flightcraft has refueled. I need to attend to a crisis in Canada. Local reports indicate a local villain is targeting you. If you need to get away from Brockton Bay for a few days, maybe weeks, you could come with me. You are registered as an S-class responder and it's not unusual for me to borrow specialist help. I can certainly use you."
"What crisis?"
"Confidential, but as part of a prelim briefing? Someone hit Heartbreaker in the worst way. A small town in Canada is now teeming with out of control minions or projections, we're not sure which, but they are very difficult to keep down. If they cannot be contained or stopped, I'll have to put the town in a quarantine dome. Before that, I want to get as many people out as I can.
"Complicating that is Heartbreaker's victims and parahuman children. The victims need to be protected from themselves and hopefully deprogrammed. The parahumans have split into factions and fortified parts of the town. They have hostages that need rescued as well. Drones have already laid the perimeter of the dome. We need teams to head into the town to investigate, and to escort people out."
You blink. "Oh, is that all?"
"That's an A-class crisis, possibly S-class if the threat grows. Don't feel obligated to attend. The Guild specialises in this. But it might be mutually beneficial if you need to leave town. You don't have to decide now, but I need an answer sooner rather than later. If you accept I can have a ship put you on site within thirty minutes."
"I'm... You could... I'll think about it."
"Okay." Dragon looks down at her beer. "Oh deary me. I haven't even touched my drink and now there is no time. I have no choice but to leave this alcohol unattended. I do so hope no mischievous minors enact a ritual of respect for a mutual friend in my absence. Ah well. Goodbye, Paradox."
"Wait, how do I contact you?"
"Call me."
"I don't have-" your phone chimes. Apparently you do have her number.
Dragon walks through the door and you catch a glimpse of her moving vertically. The roar of engines signals her exit.
That was the most convoluted excuse for a woman to buy you a drink and give you her number that you've ever heard of. You're not going to complain.
A lull spreads through the room. In the corner, the funeral is playing on an old TV, subtitles on. A reporter has managed to corner Challenger - a woman who famously hates being on TV. The one eyed heroine stares at the camera like a deer in the headlights. "How do I feel? I fell like *bleep* *bleep*ed the *bleep*ing *bleeeeeep*."
The heroes in the pub give a brief, ironic cheer.
Smiling, you make a silent toast to Armsmaster. Then you put the glass down and frown at it. It might look like an old English pub, but it still serves terrible American beer.
Sit Rep
Prince takes time off and feels better for it.
Out of respect, most villains keep their head down around the funeral.
The PRT are getting more complaints again, this time from the Youth Guard.
Triumph fears for his family.
Choices:
Mum is on life-support and doctors keep using the phrase 'false hope.' Panacea isn't going to help. Do you hold on to hope, seek alternatives, or let your mother expire?
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Mother] End life support. Hope was Dad's hubris.
[X] [Mother] Coil. He offered a deal. It's a lot more tempting now.
- you may or may not join him, it will be a later choice
- finding out what Coil's cure is will become a high priority
Your best lead is also your weakest link. Triumph - Rory Christener, son of the Mayor - has cold feet. He's afraid for his family's safety. Is it worth the risk?
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
- Triumph's family is at risk.
- There is power and danger in names.
[X] [Triumph] Don't push. Let him go.
- Triumph leaves the conspiracy.
- You'll have to find another way.
Dragon made you an offer. A crisis in Canada. The Heartbreaker situation sounds bad, but can you afford to take another time out? You are building a life here. Part of that life is removing a bad snake infestation.
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
- Hostages, monsters and capes, oh my.
- New and terrible ways to die.
- New and terrible way to make other people die, whether you mean to or not.
- Villains with Master powers. Dare you taunt a fate worse than death?
[X] [Adventure] Stay in Brockton Bay. Someone needs to escort Krieg to the Birdcage.
- You'll be grouped with Assault.
- The Empire looks after their own.
[X] [Adventure] Stay in Brockton Bay, but ask Dragon for help.
- Dragon scans public records and finds a site that is receiving a lot of dog food. You investigate with the PRT.
- If her stance on minimum legal drinking age is any indicator, Dragon is rules bound. She can't directly help with unmasking Coil.
- A Dragoncraft is stationed in Brockton Bay for a while.
- Big heroes imply big villains. What if Coil escalates? What if he calls for a dragon slayer?
It's time to let go of your guilt surrounding Armsmaster's death. How do you process grief?
[X] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster.
- Paradox tries to be more like Armsmaster.
- More direct, more objective.
- Be a hero.
[X] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
- No change.
- Be yourself.
[X] [Grief] Learn from Armsmaster's mistakes.
- Prince tries to be less like Armsmaster.
- People first, mission second.
- Be a person.
This is as close to a fluff chapter as I am ever likely to write. Hopefully works as a low (but not too low) stress chapter to give people a break from action. As if 3 weeks isn't enough of a break. Ugh.
There was supposed to be a rising tone that symbolized Prince's healthier mental state. But I think it got lost in editing. I'm not good at this. Sarcasm is also a Prince of Persia trait that I've been neglecting, so I may have been too heavy with it here. Call it another sign of healing: he's more comfortable showing his true personality.
Whenever the Wards are on scene, I can't help but put some fandom memes in. They're fun. Sorry for the cliche.
Cut a scene where Prince looks up Kid Win's video and muses on how different he looks from the outside. I think it would just belabor something that's been pointed out already. On the other hand, maybe you need to read too closely to pick that up?
Another cut scene is how confoam works and is regulated. Basically it's treated like an explosive, it's expensive, and breaker powers can break it. Why doesn't Velocity drop foam grenades on people at a speed they can do nothing about? Because his speedy breaker state turns the tinker juice into water.
The claw / foam sprayer is from Prince of Persia 2008, aka PoP 4. It's not Sands of Time, but I happily steal from the entire series. A pic will be added to the character sheet.
What else? Oh, this is the longest chapter yet. I hate it. 3 weeks!
Thank you for reading.
Edit to self: i think the paragraphs length needs more variation. Too late now.
Edit: typo. There's always a typo. Yet another typo.
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Triumph] Push Him for Coils Name
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
[X] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
Cool to see this update. I doubt the Wards were trained for this kind of thing, so makes sense it'd run into hurdles.
First time I saw someone connect the famous Challenger burger to Challenger the heroine. Kudos, same with the bar scene. Really adds a human touch to it all.
Honestly, I kinda wanna help Dragon out, gets us out of Coil's reach, and honestly the MC could do worse than becoming a member of the Guild, and this way, we get to see more of the world rather than just Brockton Bay.
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
[] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
[X] [Grief] Learn from Armsmaster's mistakes
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
Self-explanatory
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
Coil literally has our Father held hostage. Triumph deeming our family acceptable losses while using his own as justification to bow out is the height of cowardice. Triumph can leave the conspiracy, he doesn't have to act against Coil, all he needs to do is tell us the name.
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
Probably lots of acceptable targets to feed to our dagger in Canada. Also, it puts us out of Coil's reach.
[X] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
I want to see more war agaisnt Coil, so sue me.
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
Self-explanatory
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
Coil literally has our Father held hostage. Triumph deeming our family acceptable losses while using his own as justification to bow out is the height of cowardice. Triumph can leave the conspiracy, he doesn't have to act against Coil, all he needs to do is tell us the name.
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
Probably lots of acceptable targets to feed to our dagger in Canada. Also, it puts us out of Coil's reach.
[X] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
I want to see more war agaisnt Coil, so sue me.
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
[X] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
[X] [Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
[X] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
