Will we ever be able to go back to the start like when Armsmaster died? Will be awesome to go back and have the info of who is coil and when behemoth gonna hit.
[X] [Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
[X] [Adventure] Stay in Brockton Bay. Someone needs to escort Krieg to the Birdcage.
[X] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
Almost all of them have a small invisible comment. Rarely I sneak in a big clue.
Chapter 1 "The Dagger of Time": has 14 fairly important bits.
Chapter 3 "Mistakes were (un)made" has 1 small comment.
Chapter 4 "A Thought Experiment" has... 20? But it's a different speaker than usual. It's Coil's radio chatter and the messages that were not erased in time are shown in the next chapter by Armsmaster. They might help figure out Coil's motive.
Chapter 6 "Schemes o' Mice an Men" has 1 small comment.
Chapter 7 "Hero of the Desert" has 1 small comment.
Chapter 9 "A Call for Heroes" has 1 comment in text and 1 invisible choice option (Prince is too nice to think about it).
Chapter 10 "The Tower Falls" has 6 important comments.
The silly Omake "Prince gets away with a Scottish accent" (after ch11 "Questions and Answers") has 1 silly comment.
Chapter 12 "Firestarter" has 1 long invisitext as a co-opted trigger vision.
Chapter 13 "A Mask of Trust" has an invisitext comment in the Rolls tab, a comment by me about the result of a roll. A normal comment in the text near the end. And another comment by me in the choices, where I laugh.
Chapter 14 "False Hope" has 1 big comment which is important. That's the latest chapter.
Yes. Fastest way is to stab someone. I might just give the option after X amount of time, like if you reach the end of the loop that started the story. That's a few months away and might need a timeskip at this rate. I'm toying with the idea of earlier, but it's not a sure thing.
[X] [Mother] End life support. Hope was Dad's hubris.
Holding onto a burning nail will char your hands. Let it go. She is already dead.
[X] [Triumph] Push him for Coil's name.
Push. He's the mayor, he has resources and can ask both the PRT and the Protectorate for shelter whilst the investigation goes underway. The rich don't need extra protection.
[X] [Adventure] Stay in Brockton Bay. Someone needs to escort Krieg to the Birdcage.
Stay, but don't escalate via Dragon, that can only end in a conflict we are not equipped to handle. More casualties, more deaths on our conscience. Unless they bring Hookwolf out to play, which Assault should be able to escape, the best scenario — with the available information — is a clean trip, and the worst case scenario a roadside massacre, which the E88 doesn't want. They're as much of a slave to PR as the PRT.
[X] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
Paying homage to the dead by taking up their habits is the worst thing you can do. Let it go, and focus on the present. The dead are gone, you are not.
Overall, a ruthless but focused approach that I think fits within Prince's character. Thank you for writing this magnificent quest!
[] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
- Paradox tries to be more like Armsmaster.
- More direct, more objective.
- Be a hero.
If this wins, Paradox will be kicking down doors, kicking ass, and basically attempt to be a bad ass action hero.
A certain measure of tunnel vision will be adopted. Things like good manners will be minimized because time is a factor. He'll take the simplest, most direct approach, depending on the vote.
Expect one liners. A little less snark, more deadpan.
He'll care less about how he looks (outside of PR), care less about other people's feelings, and more about getting the job done, whatever it takes.
This is the guy who fought Krieg one on one and told the rest of the team to figure it out.
[] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
- No change.
- Be yourself.
If this wins, Paradox keeps his sarcastic, arrogant personality. I'll be guided by (what I think) the designer of PoP:SoT envisioned: a sort of guile hero.
Self confidant, reasonably mannered, willing to consider other angles, figuring stuff out as he goes.
Arrogance is mostly shown as a streak of vanity. He flirts with waitresses and preens under attention.
This is the guy who made a think tank to predict Behemoth.
[] [Grief] Learn from Armsmaster's mistakes.
- Prince tries to be less like Armsmaster.
- People first, mission second.
- Be a person.
The social option no one voted for. This option emphasizes the big picture and how people feel.
Paradox will act more like Gallant or Miss Militia or Dragon, a supportive person who balances bad ass caring with righteous might.
Less sarcasm, more piercing questions. More likely to compromise if it avoids a fight. More likely to charm someone.
This is the guy who takes time off to talk to his mother and fix her hair.
Or at least, that's what I'll aim to write. I have no idea what I'm doing.
[] [Grief] Internalize Armsmaster
- Paradox tries to be more like Armsmaster.
- More direct, more objective.
- Be a hero.
If this wins, Paradox will be kicking down doors, kicking ass, and basically attempt to be a bad ass action hero.
A certain measure of tunnel vision will be adopted. Things like good manners will be minimized because time is a factor. He'll take the simplest, most direct approach, depending on the vote.
Expect one liners. A little less snark, more deadpan.
He'll care less about how he looks (outside of PR), care less about other people's feelings, and more about getting the job done, whatever it takes.
This is the guy who fought Krieg one on one and told the rest of the team to figure it out.
[] [Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
- No change.
- Be yourself.
If this wins, Paradox keeps his sarcastic, arrogant personality. I'll be guided by (what I think) the designer of PoP:SoT envisioned: a sort of guile hero.
Self confidant, reasonably mannered, willing to consider other angles, figuring stuff out as he goes.
Arrogance is mostly shown as a streak of vanity. He flirts with waitresses and preens under attention.
This is the guy who made a think tank to predict Behemoth.
[] [Grief] Learn from Armsmaster's mistakes.
- Prince tries to be less like Armsmaster.
- People first, mission second.
- Be a person.
The social option no one voted for. This option emphasizes the big picture and how people feel.
Paradox will act more like Gallant or Miss Militia or Dragon, a supportive person who balances bad ass caring with righteous might.
Less sarcasm, more piercing questions. More likely to compromise if it avoids a fight. More likely to charm someone.
This is the guy who takes time off to talk to his mother and fix her hair.
Or at least, that's what I'll aim to write. I have no idea what I'm doing.
Overall a pretty decent quest, if a bit too eager to escalate to death and destruction. In canon, killing amongst parahumans was rare, and I don't think the Undersiders killed someone until the S9 arc, and even then they were up against mass murderers. Coil also did a complete reversal of his past behavior, though I suppose for him you might be able to justify it with feeling extremely threatened by a precognitive thinker like Paradox, and going for broke.
(Power progression being directly related to killing (or at least heavy maiming) leads to a curiously slanted incentive system.)
"I agree. But so far, he's skirted the rules without breaking them. Due to your precognition, shooting you is always something that might happen, but never does. Like shooting a Brute that you know is bullet proof. He's arguably within bounds."
Coil also did a complete reversal of his past behavior, though I suppose for him you might be able to justify it with feeling extremely threatened by a precognitive thinker like Paradox, and going for broke.
A valid interpretation and the narrative supports it. That part you quoted is another clue as to why he shot Paradox in the first place.
I drafted the end of the Coil Campaign and spell out his motives there. Suffice to say my own interpretation of the character is mixed in with how Coil and Paradox's powers interact.
I think it all fits well enough with cannon (plus the conceit), but then, I would.
The contrasting duality of person and powers is why he's a main villain (and luck of the vote is why he's the first too).
No direct evidence that it was Coil until Grue threw a hand on the stage ten minutes later. Even then, it's one step removed. A step easily crossed, but if Coil wanted to pin it on Grue, he could. Coil lives in the grey zone.
Next update will show some of how Coil gets away with everything. Might take a week or less, it's only 2 maybe 3 scenes.
I drafted the end of the Coil Campaign and spell out his motives there. Suffice to say my own interpretation of the character is mixed in with how Coil and Paradox's powers interact.
My first instinct is to wonder if the interaction forces Coil to keep his 'fuck around' timelines, making him confront the 'find out' part he usually gets to avoid.
For example, the first assassination was supposed to be just an experiment to be erased in retrospect, but power interference closed the 'safe' timeline.
But that doesn't feel quite right...
(Btw, Scion's anger reminds me of the father's anger, because the (im)possibility of turning back time to save his partner is one of the only two reasons I could think of for it. Interesting Parallel.)
My first instinct is to wonder if the interaction forces Coil to keep his 'fuck around' timelines, making him confront the 'find out' part he usually gets to avoid.
For example, the first assassination was supposed to be just an experiment to be erased in retrospect, but power interference closed the 'safe' timeline.
But that doesn't feel quite right...
(Btw, Scion's anger reminds me of the father's anger, because the (im)possibility of turning back time to save his partner is one of the only two reasons I could think of for it. Interesting Parallel.)
The tour group is shooed away by the guide and you're left with nothing to distract you from darker thoughts. You didn't sleep much last night. You dreamt of a man who's tongue was a snake. It hissed in your ear "[ Feed me. ]"
[Mother] Wait. Where there is life, there is hope.
[Adventure] Go with Dragon on a Canadian adventure.
[Grief] Let Armsmaster go.
Rory stands to leave. You stand too, moving to the side of the table to block his exit.
"No," you say. "You can't use my family to protect your own. Give me a name."
"If I do, he'll come after me."
"If you don't, you're a coward."
Rory glares down at you, lips parting, teeth grinding, fists tight at his sides. A primitive, caveman look - common in large men who can get their way by shouting.
A look you meet with a cool stare. Don't blink. He'll swing at you.
The Dagger of Time is under your shirt; warm and slick and waiting.
Fugly Bob's has gone quiet. Brocktonites can smell a fight brewing even through grease smog. The guy behind the counter holds a phone in one hand and reaches under the counter with the other.
Rory slowly sits down. He tips back the dregs of his jumbo drink and crushes the paper cup. You sit too, keeping your hands visible on the table. Silently the conspirators wait for tempers to cool, listening to the recovering restaurant buzz and the crack of ice in Rory's heavy jaw.
"Okay," Rory says. He takes a pen and a napkin from Kid Win's doodle pile.
He writes the name, folds the napkin, puts it on the table, keeps his hand on top. "I'm giving you this so you can look after your own. But take my advice. Don't use his name anywhere. Don't even think it."
You ask "why are you so afraid of this guy?"
"Because he is the PRT. He's chief trouble-shooter. When there's a problem - any problem - they call him."
"For problems he causes?"
"Exactly. Do you get it now? He's everywhere. He trains troops, he leads teams, he can read most every confidential file and sit in any meeting. And he can always justify it because he's a goddamned villain. I guarantee he's the guy in charge of the Co-... his investigation."
"That's why it goes nowhere."
"That's not even the scariest thing." Rory leans forwards, the plastic table creaking under his weight. "He's not even a cape."
You frown. "Impossible."
"It's not. Not when you have money and authority like he does. Think about it. The PRT use Mirrors just like the MLB."
"Uh, you lost me."
Rory sighs. "Mirrors, M-R-I-O-R-S. It stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging with an Open Rapid System. Professional sports use them to find capes. The PRT test people every few years and the MLB test at the start of the World Series. If they see a Corona Pollentia - that's a part of the brain that means you have or might develop powers - then you're outta there."
You raise an eyebrow at the meathead. "I did not expect a lecture on neuroanatomy."
Rory adjusts his baseball cap. "It was a big issue a couple of years back. Hurt a lot of hopeful sport stars. Lots of people have a Pollentia, powers or no. Anyway, I'm done, I'm out, don't call me. In fact, don't do anything. That's the smart way."
Rory stands and leaves, rattling the table as he goes.
Gallant shuffles in his plastic seat. Rory's bulk had squeezed him close to the wall. He doesn't look happy for the extra elbow room. "I wish that had gone better."
You don't reply, busy staring at the folded napkin in the center of the table. "He has to be a cape. He can tell if I use my power. No one else can."
"I can," says Gallant. "It's like your aura doubles and overlaps. As if everything you might feel is compressed and shot out all at once. The more you do your thing, the brighter it gets. Hard to miss. Sometimes it's hard to look at."
"That's disturbing."
"I can see that. I really do just want to help." Gallant looks at the untouched napkin. "So, are you going to read it?"
Of course you are.
You read it, refold the napkin, and pass it under the table. Everyone gets a peek.
Thomas Calvert.
Where have you seen that name before?
A signature. Calvert. The cross of the t looping under the c like a noose. Calvert cosigned a recommendation for you to join the Watchdog escort. Coil put you on the real transport.
Why? Ego stroking? Because you asked for a meeting?
That night, you dreamt about a dragon.
You will use your power. When I say. How I say.
Kid Win asks "what are we going to do now?"
Gallant suggests "we should go to the top, tell someone."
You say "anyone could be compromised."
Kid Win shoves his napkin doodles away in disgust. "Can we at least do something about the snitch? I keep losing stuff."
Rory's theory that Coil isn't a cape must be wrong - testers can be bribed or blackmailed, records can be faked.
But Rory is right about one thing. Calvert doesn't need a super power to be scary. He has a perfectly normal, subtle, terrifying power that beats most anything the Protectorate has. The power to suggest what capes should do.
Capes like Chariot. Capes like you.
Unfortunately for your remaining conspirators, it's their problem. You're getting out of here.
Director Piggot signed off on your temporary transfer instantly. She wanted you gone and you're going.
You said goodbye to your mother. Said not to worry, you'll be back in a little while. Her reply was the rattle-suck of life support. There's nothing you can do for her at the moment. Coil's offer is poison.
But the PRT database does list alternatives.
Panacea failed. You drag a finger along her name on your phone's touchscreen, cutting a line through her. Wards too. Sanguine only heals blood and bodily trauma. Scapegoat takes injuries into himself. You doubt he wants brain damage.
Cask is a Protectorate tinker in Anchorage. He can make flesh regenerating chemistry. So why isn't everyone issued a healing potion? Worth checking up on, but he's a long way away.
The entire list of heroic healers is reduced to a single name. Villains have a broader selection.
Othala from Brockton Bay can grant regeneration. So close, but good luck getting Empire 88 to help. Bitter Pill from Mexico City? Another chemical tinker who can act like a healer. You would need to find her first. Bonesaw? No. Just no. Cross her off, delete, and purge the thought from your mind. Coil would destroy you. Bonesaw would destroy the city.
A total of three names. Very few details. You will need to search far and wide to find a healer equal to Panacea.
Most of your list are Tinkers. Tinkers can do anything in time, right?
You look up from your phone and stretch as much as you can in the back cabin of the Dragoncraft.
Thirty minutes in a track lit metal capsule just tall enough to stand in, uncomfortably warm from your extra costume padding. Nothing to see but six seats folded into the walls to save space, flat screens on their exposed underside, harnesses pulled back hard so they don't dangle in turbulence.
Not that there is any turbulence, or any sense of motion at all.
It's disconcerting. The Dragoncraft flies at more than twice the speed of a commercial aircraft, but a passenger can't feel it. You would prefer to experience the acceleration, the wind, the pull of Earth as it tries to drag you down, the exhilaration as it fails. Anything but this wait.
You don't like small spaces. At least In a car you can see the ground outside, feel the motion, you can even chance a jump. It's why your eyes are glued to your phone. It takes your mind off being in a flying coffin.
"Dragon," you ask. "Can you heal brain damage?"
"Oh, Paradox," Dragon says from hidden speakers. "No. Even if I could, the ethics are complicated."
Worth a try. Perhaps Blasto the plant Tinker in Boston? He is an expert on vegetative states, in a way.
"We're over the town now," Dragon says. "Snow storms are obscuring vision and slowing down our operation. I want to assess the situation with a close flyby. I'll put it on screen."
The walls light up, white and hazy, occluded by fat snowflakes. Each screen shows a slightly different point of view. They circle a whited out town dotted by dark, denuded trees. Every building is fuzzy with snow, ice creeping up the sides and hanging off gables, dirty moats mark where the roads were cleared and reburied.
Towns north of Montreal suffer harsh winters. It's why you wear a padded winter version of your costume. Same style, but much thicker and with sleeves. You had no cause to wear it in Brockton Bay's incredibly mild climate. [ Look. ]
A screen on the left snatches your attention. "Dragon, is that a person?"
"It is. I'm going for a closer look."
The image grows clearer, more detailed. A squat, brick building. A sign saying "service de police" - a police station. Above the sign is a flag pole, bending slightly in the wind, helped by the weight of a man standing on it.
A shirtless man with skin charred black and eyes burning yellow. Only his long dark hair moves in the wind. He twists at the waist - streams of golden fire crying from his eyes, running down his arm, gathering in his back hand - and whips his arm at you, a chain extending from his palm.
You hear the thunk as it hits the Dragoncraft. Like kicking a bucket.
Dragon says "it didn't seem to do any damage-age-age-age-age-age-age." The speakers stutter and stop. A dead silence.
"Dragon?"
Screens flicker and die. Track lights fail. You feel motion, a weight lifting as you approach free fall.
You scramble in the dark, feeling your way, reversing time until you can beeline to the cabin door. It slides opens into light. The glass cockpit is a hybrid of fighter jet and space shuttle. A slit of tough glass let's you see outside.
Manual controls were supposed to be perfunctory. Dragon was flying with autopilot and remote commands. At least, you think she was. You don't see anyone.
Seconds are wasted on looking. Time rewinds, the door opens, you jump in the foam pilot seat. Special equipment training didn't really cover this, but you've seen at least one disaster movie. It'll have to do.
The LCD displays still work, running on backup power. Engines are dead. The altimeter is dropping at an alarming rate. You take the pilot's stick and pull gently back, trying to line up the horizon. The stick fights you - don't yank it or you'll tumble.
Through the strip of toughened glass, you see the ground coming. The Dragoncraft shudders and shakes as buildings grow larger. You fasten your seat belt, steel claws fumbling the clasp.
The pull of Earth drags you down.
The Dragoncraft plows through a building, through the snow, into the next building, a tree, more snow, finally stopping in a third building. The window shows nothing but crumbled bricks and falling snow melting in friction-heat.
You laugh in hysterical relief. Dragon builds tough ships. The only imperfection is a minor habit of falling out the sky. Good thing a neighborhood was here to break the fall or someone could have been hurt.
You pry your fingers off the stick, unclip the harness, and push open the exterior hatch. It is not easy. Some oaf dropped a wall on it.
The air outside is below freezing. Cold enough to sting. Overtones of leaking coolant, steam, and burnt chemicals. The sweetest air you've ever smelled.
"Dragon? Anyone?" Your radio is silent. "Please respond."
You're on your own.
Except for the dead women who were hidden under the snow.
Sit Rep
You know Coil's true name: Thomas Calvert.
You ditched your conspirators again. You won't know their results until you get back.
You made a short list of potential healers.
Dragon is down.
You are all alone in a Canadian winter town.
Here be monsters.
Choices
The Dragoncraft crashed. You're on your own. What now?
[X] [Alone] Stay with the Dragoncraft.
- Loot it for equipment.
- Someone will investigate the crash eventually. But who?
- Check around the houses you broke. There's a chance someone didn't evacuate to the shelters.
[X] [Alone] Get moving to the Guild base on the perimeter.
- Seek to regroup.
- It's going to be a cold, hard slog.
- Always a chance you'll run into something.
[X] [Alone] Find the police station with the charred man.
- Seek vengeance or answers.
- Seek trouble and you will find it.
- Here be monsters. Was this one? Or something else?
[X] [Alone] Follow the trail of dead women.
- The dead can share many secrets.
- These were the people you were meant to save.
Meanwhile, your conspirators are picking up your slack, again. What are they going to do while you're away?
[X] [Calvert] Triumph's idea. Do nothing.
- The smart way.
- Minimal risk.
[X] [Calvert] Gallant's idea. Tell Piggot.
- Anyone could be compromised.
- Gallant would prefer if everyone, including you and Triumph, could make a collective case together.
[X] [Calvert] Kid Win's idea. Take out Chariot.
- Do something about the snitch.
- Kid WIn will accidentally on purpose drop something heavy on Chariot's foot.
Four bad drafts. This update is cursed.
FIrst drafts tried to give everyone a voice. They had some nice parts where everyone exchanges names, reveal Prince's family name, and show everyone's personal conflicts. But it went on so long that the "no name" rule got confusing and it grew into the omake below. Fun, but not enough to excuse all the talking heads. There's only so many ways to shrug and raise eyebrows around a table.
So now we get the Rory show. Trust me, no matter how bad this is, the first versions were worse. There are still problems. Poor Rory got his anger problems over played. Sorry, Rory.
Then Dragon's scene. Sorry, Dragon.
I hope this update isn't too bad. Transition and exposition is hard. Remember that there are worse things on the internet. At least, I hope there is.
Thank you for reading.
Quick edit: Dragon scoffs. "It takes more than that to damage -> Dragon says "it didn't seem to do any damage
Late edit: I'm breaking my "no major editing after posting" rule because I think this chapter needed a lot more work. Adding the smallest, most subtle change which I don't think will impact the vote. A line of invisi-text, -> [ Look. ]
Even later edit: [Alone] Find the police station with the burnt man. -> [Alone] Find the police station with the charred man.
Kid Win shoves his napkin doodles away in disgust. "I know we said no names, but this is so annoying. Can't we just give him a fake name?"
"Why not?" Gallant says. "What name were you thinking?"
"Lord Voldemort."
"...Sure. He Who Must Not Be Named."
Your lips twitch. "We could go to warn the Headmaster about the Dark Lord, but what if she's a Death Eater?"
Kid WIn stands. "First we need to catch the Snitch. Follow me, I have a plan."
Chariot is picking his nose when the Ward HQ visitor alarm sounds. He has just enough time to wipe snot on the communal sofa, put on a domino mask, and then stand on the other side of the room and pretend innocence.
The elevator door opens and ejaculates three teens wearing black robes.
The shortest points his wand at Chariot and passionately cries "stupify!"
Sparks fly, hitting Chariot in the chest, making his muscles tremble and his legs grow weak. His knees hit the floor, followed by his stupid face.
"We got the snitch!"
All three teens share high fives. It is great.
Vista wanders in and claps her hands in joy. "Oh Chris, you are so brave! Never again will I doubt your intelligence or blame you for wiping snot on the sofa!"
You nudge Kid WIn to get his attention. "Kid, you've been standing and staring at nothing for five minutes. What's the plan?"
Gallant raises an eyebrow. "He's fourteen. What did you think about when you were fourteen?"
Kid Win says "step one is to make a magic wand..."
[X] [Alone] Get moving to the Guild base on the perimeter.
does our body of sand resist freezing temperatures?
sooooo they disrupt electric currents or signals. that would make things complicated; the plan so far is to read dragon into the coil situation after this little detour. if all else fails see if we can go back in time.
I want to say this is a Coil plot to kidnap our MC, but it might be too big for him. Although he would probably have access to Dragon's flight plans...
[X] [Alone] Stay with the Dragoncraft.
We need any survival supplies we can get. And if this is a murder/kidnapping attempt, which it very clearly is, it gives them less opportunity to surprise us. It also gives us more opportunity to scout/trap the area, and hole up.
