- Location
- nowhere
[X] A news clipping about a string of disappearances in Washington.
Shining Example (WORM ORIGIN QUEST)
- Thread starter IKnowNothing
- Start date
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
It's currently about mid 1987 with the timeskip. You met up with Number Man a few days after he left the nine. And while yes they weren't a subtle gang, the news kind of got railroaded to "London is on fire," while they were dealing with the inner issues of dealing with Number Man leaving and Jack taking over.
- Location
- Leeds
Kings power was that he could transfer damage he takes to other people he touches. He exploited this by walking into trains and buses where he could touch people and taking groups of people hostage en masse, didn't he?
If he was doing this before Symphony, how did people not know?
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
I mean, it would appear like he just didn't take damage. It wouldn't be immediate to detect other people would randomly take the wound for him.
[X] A banner depicting what looked to be a recruitment drive in Brockton Bay.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
Symphony was the big wake up call for parahumans for most of the world. Governments and other higher authorities knew things were happening but it wasn't until Symphony burned down London that normal people, including police, knew that powers were a thing. Yes people just spontaneously died, but how the hell are you supposed to follow up on something like that when you have no clue what to look for?
- Location
- Leeds
Guy holding hostage, gets shot in head. Bullet wound appears in the head of one of the hostages? Seems like if nothing else there'd be a conspiracy theory about all these police executions.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
King was a smart guy, he knew where and when to pick his fights and Jack and Number Man only got him because they hit him at the perfect time.
Beyond that, the group hadn't existed long enough for police to connect the piece or for conspiracy theories to be born before Symphony started shooting up London.
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WeylandSmith
Loose Cultivator
- Location
- [Global State]
[X] A news clipping about a string of disappearances in Washington.
K1ng
Reader of The Book of Vile Darkness
- Location
- Australia
[X] A news clipping about a string of disappearances in Washington.
The sword one could be Black Kaze, but if the Washington one is Teacher, that should be our highest priority.
If we get him early enough we can hopefully prevent Saint.
The sword one could be Black Kaze, but if the Washington one is Teacher, that should be our highest priority.
If we get him early enough we can hopefully prevent Saint.
Monk Penguin
Way of the Open Flipper
- Location
- USA
[X] A news clipping about a string of disappearances in Washington.
Don't know if it was discussed earlier but the Brockton Bay one is probably either Allfather or Marquis, I'm not sure on the exact timeline for them.
Edit: About the S9 didn't Kurt/Harbinger/Number Man help Jack Slash kill King before he quit the group? So either we butterflied that away or it already happened. I'm leaning towards the latter. which means the 9 is probably already formed and out there, along with Gray Boy and the other founding members.
Don't know if it was discussed earlier but the Brockton Bay one is probably either Allfather or Marquis, I'm not sure on the exact timeline for them.
Edit: About the S9 didn't Kurt/Harbinger/Number Man help Jack Slash kill King before he quit the group? So either we butterflied that away or it already happened. I'm leaning towards the latter. which means the 9 is probably already formed and out there, along with Gray Boy and the other founding members.
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IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
Nicknames beyond calling David an asshole? Heresy!
In all seriousness, I would say yes for everyone else except Rebecca. Alex doesn't give Rebecca a nickname because her name is a bit of a sour spot for her. Her father cheated on her mother, it leads to a nasty break up and the result left her with two last names that hold two very different meanings for her.
Her first name though, Rebecca? That's her name, just her, no family drama bullshit. Alex calls her just that because that's who she is to him. Just Rebecca, his best friend and the reason he stayed alive for as long as he did. He's not going to change it. To him, it's perfect already.
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
- Location
- Currently in the local dimension.
Bad Ghost, Contessa is the adopted child.How romantic
*Is on the Contessa ship*
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
Nope, Shes the OTP. We have to melt away the PTV facade and romance the girl underneath that Fedora.
- Location
- Leeds
Believe in Charles.
- Location
- USA
I'd of shipped contessa if Rebecca hadn't had that position locked in -- I'm a sucker for "first girl, best girl"
Kinda want one of them to decide to actually make it official, but it's inevitably going to be dragged out of ages even though nothing will really change in their relationship after it happens.
Kinda want one of them to decide to actually make it official, but it's inevitably going to be dragged out of ages even though nothing will really change in their relationship after it happens.
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
How romantic
*Is on the Contessa ship*
And so the history books say that Hero was cucked out of both options by his good friend Atlas.
You're the ones controlling the vote, write-ins are always a thing.
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
Contessa is best girl! Don't you know, first girl doesn't always win? Sometimes its the second in more recent times!
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
As the writer, I don't think I'm allowed to voice on opinion on best girl.
So I'll take your word for it.
4.4: Towards an Empire
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
"Is that supposed to be a recruitment banner?"
Number Man follows your finger, expanding the picture until it fit the entire screen. Red covered most of it with a black outline of a broken tower and burning buildings. At the very end, it reads 'Safe from the Storm, Join the Pure, the Proud, the Strong within Brockton Bay'
"No, my current set up is limited in that respect," Number Man says, his voice flat.
A tap of the keyboard later and the picture fades back. Spinning on an invisible axis, the edges become crisper, and the entire thing looks no bigger than one of those credit cards that Clint was interested in.
"Professional grade, laminated business cards," the kid explains, "All and all, overly expensive invitations to a drive that's been going on for about three days."
"Huh," you say, following as well as you can "I didn't know the Musicians needed money from… where the hell is Brockton Bay?"
"Massachusetts," the kid says adjusting his glasses, "And it's not the Musicians."
"Then who is it?"
"Empire 88."
This time, you don't bother holding back a sigh, "Let me guess, a villain group?"
Number Man frowns slightly, but nods and you run a hand through your hair. A part of you wants to be angry, maybe even disappointed. You still are, but you understand it this time. Symphony was insane, and not even Rebecca could make heads or tails of what he really wanted. Sure he went on about how parahumans should be the top dogs of the world, but there were a few things that didn't add up.
He had a drone builder, a walking city buster, a star, and whatever the hell he was, and he ran into an invasion headfirst. Put bombs to shut down the underground and with his power slaughtered anyone other than you that got close. Then he just broadcasted everything he had. He showed every card that he had, gave examples of all the powers that kept London burning. If that wasn't enough, he all but begged someone to fly over and teach him a lesson. And when you did, he surrendered.
The questions only added up when you told Rebecca how he used his powers to stop the waves from crushing your head.
What she could explain, is what happened in the fallout. Newsreels and numbers can fool a lot of people, but two months of work has done nothing but prove just how much of a shitshow followed London. Even before the fires were put out in London, parahuman riots hit a bunch of cities only to stop the second that news of Symphony's capture got out of England.
At the time, you thought nothing of it, a reward for a job completed. Unfortunately, that never happens. The stress of the questions is what put Rebecca into her current headache. Pain in the ass that it is to admit, Doctor Mother explained everything almost perfectly. People were scared, and they wanted to use their powers for their own ends like she said they would, so groups are formed. Like Cauldron, Number Man's, Musicians. You don't like thinking about it, but it's true.
It was so much easier thinking that it's just the Musicians and the group that hit New York were the only real problem. Made everything seem so much easier.
God damnit, this is why Rebecca is so stressed, isn't it?
You try to stop the sad smile on your face. Of course, she would see the bigger picture before you did.
No use complaining about it. You wanted this, you set the path, and if she's working you got to do your part too.
"Statistics wouldn't classify them as a villain group yet."
You blink, "Then why do you care about them?"
"Simple, it's my job to monitor potential dangers to Cauldron."
"I thought you were finances?"
"I can multitask."
Fair enough you suppose. Leaning against the desk, Number Man brings his full attention back to the computer.
"This particular group call themselves Empire 88, lead by a man that goes by the name, Allfather."
You fail to stop a snort, "But full of himself isn't he?"
Number Man shrugs, probably trying to keep things professional.
"He named himself after a god; you named yourself after a Titan, best to not start throwing stones."
You purse your lips, but you find yourself finally without a comeback. Well, at least a comeback that you're willing to say.
"First sightings put them in New York when the riots began," Number man continues, "If the reports are to be believed, we have him to thank for keeping the damage at least marginally controlled to replaceable areas."
You roll your eyes, like homes could be considered replaceable, "Okay, so what do you need me to do? Am I just supposed to fly to Brockton Bay and thank him?"
Number Man turns and raises a pointed eyebrow.
"Unless you want to continue your record of running headlong into violence, I'd advise against it."
You feel your eye twitch, "I don't run into fights."
There was only David on your first day, the hand man on your second, and then Symphony and then-You're going to stop yourself right there. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with that week? Even if you don't know the answer to that question, Number Man raises an eyebrow, daring you to repeat what you said. You break the gaze and grimace.
"... I don't try to find fights?" you offer.
The kid doesn't even flinch, leaving you to slump in your spot and watch as he goes back to the computer.
"Hoping beyond all hope that you don't get into a fight-" Number Man mutters.
"Hey."
"-you're only going to head to Brockton to confirm the level this drive is operating at. Security, recruitment flow, anything that you can understand"
You nod along, "So… no busting the party?"
"Unless, as I said before, you want to potentially pick a fight with a room possibly full of other parahumans. But, considering your luck, I wouldn't be surprised."
"And yet you still come to me for help," you mutter back, your mouth going on autopilot once again.
"With Contessa currently occupied, my options were either you or Rebecca," Number Man admits, "And she hasn't talked to me since Contessa told her that my recruitment involved having a mountain being dropped on you."
"Wasn't that Incubus?" You ask, tilting of your head.
"I pointed that out," Number Man says, "And the chances of me winning said argument only plummeted."
You whistle, damn Rebecca, keep it together he's just a kid. A kid that can bounce bullets off walls with perfect aim, but still a kid.
… yeah that argument doesn't sound any better in your head.
"Well, to be fair, you were the reason he came for us."
"And I could have made the argument that you were the reason the mountain came down," Number Man points out, "But I rather like the ability to walk."
You raise a finger, only to have it drop.
"...so, where in the bay am I heading?"
Number Man blinks, almost like he wasn't expecting the question. Why he would think that you've got no clue. You know how big cities work. Police can try all they want, but even back home it wasn't too hard to avoid them if you knew where to go. And you remember seeing Brockton Bay on the map, and anything that big is going to have more than a few ways of keeping something like this quiet. A back alley bar, a private club, a rented apartment you name it, it wouldn't be hard to get.
On the screen, Number Man does something that makes the picture flip around, showing off a several series of numbers stamped on the back. He leans in, tracing the top layer of numbers with his finger.
"Yes, specifically you're going here."
You squint, that's a place? Far be it from you to argue with a kid with math powers but still.
"Alright… what am I supposed to get out of this?"
He gives you a sideways glance, "Saying that, I'm going to assume you don't know how to read latitude and longitude?"
"I don't know how to long divide, and I became a superhero before knowing that Calculus is a thing," You point out, "How the hell would I know how to read latitude and longitude?"
Number Man blinks once and then nods.
"Noted," he says, adjusting his glasses, "Moving on, the coordinates point lead to the entrance to an underground casino in Brockton Bay known as Ruby Dreams."
You whistle, "Sounds expensive."
"That would be a healthy assumption," Number Man says.
You blink, "Okay," you start, "So beyond having me walk to the literal entrance to the lion's den, is there anything else you want me to do for you?"
"Staying alive if you can manage it," Number Man admits.
"Aw, you do care," you smile.
Number Man shoots you a glare, "From what I've gathered, the boardwalk of Brockton Bay is a rather popular place. However, the northern end holds the highest chance of getting you into the city undetected so long as you don't push your power."
"What's wrong with putting a Door in the city?" You ask, "Make things easier and we've done it before."
Number Man raises a skeptical eyebrow "And risk a gang of parahumans gunning you down the second that you step out? Not worth the risk. A Door will put you outside of the city, fly to the northern end, land, and I'll guide you to the meeting location. If it is taking place, we'll deal with it later. If you're caught, run, Door once you're out of sight," he stops, the dangerous gleam in his eyes forcing you to pay attention to the last order.
"Got it."
Number Man nods, picking up a com line as he heads back to the computer.
"Should the worst happen, do us all a favor and try not to break the city."
"Your faith in me is astounding," you say, complete deadpan.
"Let the record show, I'm desperate," he admits, "Any questions?"
"Just one," you answer, and Number Man frowns as you point at the screen, "Where did you find this?"
The kid's expression is as flat as ever, but his body goes so still that it barely disturbs a single wave. You throw a hand up, and back away.
"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, don't worry, I don't need to hear about it." You pause, and you try not to grimace, "So long as you aren't trying to get something more than info out of this."
Number Man's brow furrows, and he starts tapping that beat again.
"I remember you not giving Doctor Mother the same courtesy last week."
You shrug, you're not going to deny it.
"She doesn't have my trust."
You bring every bit of self-control that you have out to keep the waves from crushing something. Doesn't stop your hand from putting a dent in the desk. Number Man notices, his eyes flickering between the damage and you. Slowly, you release
"You say that, while I, on the other hand, came from a group of… less than savory individuals."
You raise an eyebrow, that's not what you would call Incubus. And if he was the measuring stick for what the rest of them are like, then less than savory was missing a few words.
"So?"
"What's different for me?" The kid's eyes are wide, and you don't need to be a genius to hear the surprise.
"Number Man," you feel ridiculous calling him that. It's so on the nose it hurts. No flair at all, but you continue, "I've come by enough to know you want to work. I don't know what the hell you're trying to do, and frankly, I don't care. Cause if you were going to turn on us, you would've, and if you wanted to leave, you could've."
"I could be playing the long game?" Number man points out.
You roll your eyes, "You're asking me for help."
You can see the realization flash across his face. Number Man fiddles with something in his pocket. He stares at you for a long moment, a thousand numbers going through his head. For a second, he stops tapping the table.
"Thank you."
You flash him a smile, "Anytime."
He freezes again and looks at you with something that you can't place. Disbelief? Maybe, but you don't question it when he opens a desk drawer and throws a sweatshirt at you. You catch it and he taps his ear, "Door, 40.7132, -68.675."
An oh so familiar door of light rips into the air in front of you. On the other side, swirling oceans rested beneath a night sky. In the distance, you catch the shining outline of a city.
"Call out landmarks, and I'll know from there."
You can't really nod while you're putting on the sweatshirt, but doesn't even look at you long enough to see if you did.
"Remember, just observation."
Cracking your neck, you give him a thumbs up as you step through the door and into open air. For a second, you let the wind roar in your ears, sliding into a gentle freefall.
Unfortunately, waves, even when untouched, don't leave you a lot of time to enjoy the fall before the water becomes to close for comfort. A mental clench and the waves wrap around you, carrying you over the water faster than any car on the highway. Not even close to your max, but having a sonic boom blast over a bay kind of kills the idea of stealth. Then again, your glowing ass doesn't help matters either, but the cities already lit up, not like you're going to stick out if you're quick enough.
You hope.
Though, the sight of the boardwalk doesn't do much to help. It's nice to look at, shops and cafes lining the beach and more apartment buildings shoved together then was probably necessary. Wide sidewalks and enough spare change put into the streetlights to turn the entire cost into a rave station if someone wanted.
You knew the type of place. Looks nice, and if you had the cash, everyone and everything in it would be nice too. But if you don't have the money, then someone would be ready to make it look a whole lot worse. Hopefully, this casino wasn't anywhere near here, but you weren't holding your breath.
What you were going to do was land at the edge of the beach, somewhere in the middle of the boardwalk that looks deserted. As you land, you break the waves, ridding yourself of the soft golden glow of your powers and letting a cool breeze greet you.
Welcome to Brockton Bay Alex, you think.
Another breeze answers you and as fast as you can you make your way up to and out of the fancier parts of the walk before anyone noticed that you were there. A minute of walking and you're in the city proper, or at least the downtown parts of it. Calm streets, even at this time of night, and a skyscraper in pretty much every other lot.
Feels like home. You hit an intersection, checking the street name as you head through.
"I'm passing onto Lord Street heading by the Central Bank," you whisper.
"Where is the bank according to you?"
"On my right," you say, merging back to your end of the sidewalk when you get the other side. A few people send questioning looks your way, the few intentive that know an outsider heading through. Everyone else? No one cared. Everyone's too busy going on their way to give you any looks. Best piece of luck that's happened to you all day. Here you are, in a city and no one knows that it's you.
That's a small reason you're here. Every day it's been the same. Fly into a city, stop a crime, help the world. This time though, you're doing all of that, without a suit. You're normal again.
And it feels… wrong.
No mask, no bulletproof shirt. Just you and the waves.
Good lord, why did you agree to this?
"What's your intersection?"
A glance to a street light you have to stretch your arms to cover the tap against your ear, "Lord Street and 6th street."
You barely hear the hum on the other end, probably the second that it takes him to find you with his power. "Keep heading north," You take a breath, "forward," and your jaw swings close, "When you see a cafe named The Coffee Grinder, turn right."
You barely manage to catch yourself from nodding. Cause that won't draw any attention, a random guy talking to himself and nodding to nothing. Play it off all you want, wouldn't go over very well if someone thinks you're a parahuman and freaks out over it.
Well, you are a parahuman, but someone might think you're not the kid of parahuman who helps them out. And if that happens, the last thing you need to do is broadcast that you're in the city when the Empire is having a meeting.
Your foot nearly catches a crack in the sidewalk as you almost freeze. When the hell did you start thinking like this? Rebecca must be rubbing off on you. A grin spreads across your face at the thought. What are you going to do about her? In a perfect world, you'd probably have the answer to that question.
But you're not in a perfect world; you're walking through Brockton Bay so distracted by a random thought that you nearly miss the cafe. You've got to come to a screeching halt, jumping to the right before you start heading into the street. Almost bash straight into someone.
"Sorry," you call.
He flips you the bird, as he goes by.
Lovely people in this city. Then again, home wasn't exactly the nicest place either, so who are you to judge.
"Just turned," you say to the coms.
"Head forward for three blocks, and it should be the first alway on your right. Shouldn't be hard to miss."
You went as instructed, taking care not to hit anyone this time. Going beyond that, you're head goes on a swivel. You're not the brightest bulb, but if you were throwing a big drive for parahumans, you'd put a big guy on the lookout at the corner of the alleyways. Well, no, it doesn't have to be a big guy. Parahumans don't need fit that mold anymore, look at yourself. You're barely scratching five ten, you're skinnier than Rebecca and you can also throw a skyscraper at someone if you feel like it.
Even including shrimps like you, there's nobody around the corners even leading up to it. Back home during this time of night, there's always someone close to the stores. Late night smoke break, a quiet corner to puke in after a drink, you name it. So either this side of the US was a whole lot tamer than the side you're used to, or someone cleared someone out.
Getting to the third corner, Number Man said that it wouldn't be hard to miss, and he was right.
The lights have seen better days, but the neon colors that spelled out Ruby Dreams hangs firmly on the cage over a metal canopy. Down a few steps, you have to blink away the dots from the gleaming ruby door. And if that wasn't enough, you're ears got a good assault as well. Despite being at the street, the drum of the bass hits you like a sledgehammer.
That's nothing compared to the bouncers. There are three of them: two guys and a girl with one of the guys leaning against the cage next to the door. He isn't much to talk about, a bald guy with a cut on his lip and mismatched eyes that focused on you despite the distance. His hands moved out of an expensive leather jacket, and the action spired his two friends. The girl has a bit more flair in her outfit, a masquerade mask barely hiding brilliant blue eyes. All things being equal, if you hadn't met Rebecca or Contessa, she'd be the prettiest girl you've seen. Didn't hurt that she looked your age, if not a little younger. Not that she seemed to care, the rest of her dress and a mink of all things left little to the imagination with their windows. The other guy looked somewhere between ten to fifteen years older than you with the weight to match, fitting the classic bodyguard mold perfect. His arms are the size of your head for god's sake. Fit him with a black knight set, and you'd be looking at Onslaught all over again. He smiles, and with barely a squint he meets your gaze.
Your breath hitches, you feel your blood freeze, and right now you want to run. Fuck Number Man and his favor. Fuck this entire city, anything to get you away from that guy! You swallow, only to find your mouth dry. His smiles widen, and you're not ashamed to admit a bead of sweat trailed down your neck. He reaches to his side, and you're already turning.
And your next breath is as easy as it's ever been. The realization almost makes you trip. You reach up to your head, bone dry. The bouncer, this is his power it's got to be. One look into his eyes and you're beyond helpless.
Mission or not that's horrifying. Waves don't stop eye contact. On the plus side, it was the fear induced neon sign that answered if something was going on tonight. You turn the corner and head down the street you came in as fast of a walk that you can manage.
"Number Man, long story short I saw them, they saw me."
The coms pick up the hitch in his breath.
"Get out of there, now!"
Don't need to tell me twice, you think.
Your pace goes up a few notches, and you're three blocks away from the club before you notice. Taking a deep breath, you return to your normal speed and turning the corner to a less populated street. That guy must've put something else into your head if you're still this shaken. Yeah, that's it, you're just working through the after effects. Not like he could hurt you. Even if he pulled a gun, it wasn't getting through your waves. And even scared, a twitch is all it would take to send him to a wall.
You mean, you're Atlas, you took down Symphony, you don't need to be afraid of some bouncer punk. Just take a breath, close your eyes and vent a little. All at once, waves become your eyes. A giant wall of color shimmers around the buildings while the busy sidewalk is a canvas of a thousand competing shapes. You can't pick out too many details with all the moving parts, but the form is just as bright as the buildings and cars around you.
All it takes is a bit of movement, and a new shape comes in. Your range isn't too long, barely half a block at most if you wanted to keep your head on straight. Might not be too far, but it's enough to check if alleyways are safe for a Door. Something you should've done with the casino. But Number Man didn't see it, David didn't see it, and thank god Rebecca didn't either.
Forgetting all of that, it's time to move on and get back. There's a free alley to your right. You blink through the gold and force reality to come back into focus. By the time that you can see normally again, you're in the alley, ignoring the smell and dodging the dumpster until you're far enough from the street that no one should see the Door.
You're also far enough that it doesn't mask the click of heels. You stop at the corner and see that girl with the mask and one of her little friends. The guy that was next to the main door stood a fair distance behind her. He waves at you, clicking his tongue and grinning like he earned a million bucks.
"That's some mighty fine tech that you've got in your ear mate. Better than coming out of Uncle Sam's pocket," he pauses pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, "You ain't a cop, so a brother's got to ask. You make it?"
"Who gives a shit if he made it," the girl says. Her voice is cracked, like someone who hadn't talked in weeks.
She raises her hand, and above her, six jagged sheets of metal appeared out of nothing. Their edges sharpened into points shining and deadly, ready to screwer you were you stood.
"I give a shit, about who he's talking to."
Okay, this time, you're a little scared. Waves build on your hands, hidden under your jacket, but you don't unleash them. You got to think this out. You're barely fifty feet from a busy street full of a bunch of people that don't have a power to protect them. Think Alex, think, you better...
[] Throw out the waves. Knock them out and gett through a Door before they even know what hit them. Might tip them off of who you really are, but anything's better than getting skewered.
[] Play up a lie, maybe you can play off making your earpieces. If he's interested, maybe you can work out a deal.
[] Tell them you're part of Cauldron. An organization that's completely loaded interested in them? Might be a good way to line their pockets. Could also get you skewered, but it's a risk.
[] Something else?
-[] Write-In
Number Man follows your finger, expanding the picture until it fit the entire screen. Red covered most of it with a black outline of a broken tower and burning buildings. At the very end, it reads 'Safe from the Storm, Join the Pure, the Proud, the Strong within Brockton Bay'
"No, my current set up is limited in that respect," Number Man says, his voice flat.
A tap of the keyboard later and the picture fades back. Spinning on an invisible axis, the edges become crisper, and the entire thing looks no bigger than one of those credit cards that Clint was interested in.
"Professional grade, laminated business cards," the kid explains, "All and all, overly expensive invitations to a drive that's been going on for about three days."
"Huh," you say, following as well as you can "I didn't know the Musicians needed money from… where the hell is Brockton Bay?"
"Massachusetts," the kid says adjusting his glasses, "And it's not the Musicians."
"Then who is it?"
"Empire 88."
This time, you don't bother holding back a sigh, "Let me guess, a villain group?"
Number Man frowns slightly, but nods and you run a hand through your hair. A part of you wants to be angry, maybe even disappointed. You still are, but you understand it this time. Symphony was insane, and not even Rebecca could make heads or tails of what he really wanted. Sure he went on about how parahumans should be the top dogs of the world, but there were a few things that didn't add up.
He had a drone builder, a walking city buster, a star, and whatever the hell he was, and he ran into an invasion headfirst. Put bombs to shut down the underground and with his power slaughtered anyone other than you that got close. Then he just broadcasted everything he had. He showed every card that he had, gave examples of all the powers that kept London burning. If that wasn't enough, he all but begged someone to fly over and teach him a lesson. And when you did, he surrendered.
The questions only added up when you told Rebecca how he used his powers to stop the waves from crushing your head.
What she could explain, is what happened in the fallout. Newsreels and numbers can fool a lot of people, but two months of work has done nothing but prove just how much of a shitshow followed London. Even before the fires were put out in London, parahuman riots hit a bunch of cities only to stop the second that news of Symphony's capture got out of England.
At the time, you thought nothing of it, a reward for a job completed. Unfortunately, that never happens. The stress of the questions is what put Rebecca into her current headache. Pain in the ass that it is to admit, Doctor Mother explained everything almost perfectly. People were scared, and they wanted to use their powers for their own ends like she said they would, so groups are formed. Like Cauldron, Number Man's, Musicians. You don't like thinking about it, but it's true.
It was so much easier thinking that it's just the Musicians and the group that hit New York were the only real problem. Made everything seem so much easier.
God damnit, this is why Rebecca is so stressed, isn't it?
You try to stop the sad smile on your face. Of course, she would see the bigger picture before you did.
No use complaining about it. You wanted this, you set the path, and if she's working you got to do your part too.
"Statistics wouldn't classify them as a villain group yet."
You blink, "Then why do you care about them?"
"Simple, it's my job to monitor potential dangers to Cauldron."
"I thought you were finances?"
"I can multitask."
Fair enough you suppose. Leaning against the desk, Number Man brings his full attention back to the computer.
"This particular group call themselves Empire 88, lead by a man that goes by the name, Allfather."
You fail to stop a snort, "But full of himself isn't he?"
Number Man shrugs, probably trying to keep things professional.
"He named himself after a god; you named yourself after a Titan, best to not start throwing stones."
You purse your lips, but you find yourself finally without a comeback. Well, at least a comeback that you're willing to say.
"First sightings put them in New York when the riots began," Number man continues, "If the reports are to be believed, we have him to thank for keeping the damage at least marginally controlled to replaceable areas."
You roll your eyes, like homes could be considered replaceable, "Okay, so what do you need me to do? Am I just supposed to fly to Brockton Bay and thank him?"
Number Man turns and raises a pointed eyebrow.
"Unless you want to continue your record of running headlong into violence, I'd advise against it."
You feel your eye twitch, "I don't run into fights."
There was only David on your first day, the hand man on your second, and then Symphony and then-You're going to stop yourself right there. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with that week? Even if you don't know the answer to that question, Number Man raises an eyebrow, daring you to repeat what you said. You break the gaze and grimace.
"... I don't try to find fights?" you offer.
The kid doesn't even flinch, leaving you to slump in your spot and watch as he goes back to the computer.
"Hoping beyond all hope that you don't get into a fight-" Number Man mutters.
"Hey."
"-you're only going to head to Brockton to confirm the level this drive is operating at. Security, recruitment flow, anything that you can understand"
You nod along, "So… no busting the party?"
"Unless, as I said before, you want to potentially pick a fight with a room possibly full of other parahumans. But, considering your luck, I wouldn't be surprised."
"And yet you still come to me for help," you mutter back, your mouth going on autopilot once again.
"With Contessa currently occupied, my options were either you or Rebecca," Number Man admits, "And she hasn't talked to me since Contessa told her that my recruitment involved having a mountain being dropped on you."
"Wasn't that Incubus?" You ask, tilting of your head.
"I pointed that out," Number Man says, "And the chances of me winning said argument only plummeted."
You whistle, damn Rebecca, keep it together he's just a kid. A kid that can bounce bullets off walls with perfect aim, but still a kid.
… yeah that argument doesn't sound any better in your head.
"Well, to be fair, you were the reason he came for us."
"And I could have made the argument that you were the reason the mountain came down," Number Man points out, "But I rather like the ability to walk."
You raise a finger, only to have it drop.
"...so, where in the bay am I heading?"
Number Man blinks, almost like he wasn't expecting the question. Why he would think that you've got no clue. You know how big cities work. Police can try all they want, but even back home it wasn't too hard to avoid them if you knew where to go. And you remember seeing Brockton Bay on the map, and anything that big is going to have more than a few ways of keeping something like this quiet. A back alley bar, a private club, a rented apartment you name it, it wouldn't be hard to get.
On the screen, Number Man does something that makes the picture flip around, showing off a several series of numbers stamped on the back. He leans in, tracing the top layer of numbers with his finger.
"Yes, specifically you're going here."
You squint, that's a place? Far be it from you to argue with a kid with math powers but still.
"Alright… what am I supposed to get out of this?"
He gives you a sideways glance, "Saying that, I'm going to assume you don't know how to read latitude and longitude?"
"I don't know how to long divide, and I became a superhero before knowing that Calculus is a thing," You point out, "How the hell would I know how to read latitude and longitude?"
Number Man blinks once and then nods.
"Noted," he says, adjusting his glasses, "Moving on, the coordinates point lead to the entrance to an underground casino in Brockton Bay known as Ruby Dreams."
You whistle, "Sounds expensive."
"That would be a healthy assumption," Number Man says.
You blink, "Okay," you start, "So beyond having me walk to the literal entrance to the lion's den, is there anything else you want me to do for you?"
"Staying alive if you can manage it," Number Man admits.
"Aw, you do care," you smile.
Number Man shoots you a glare, "From what I've gathered, the boardwalk of Brockton Bay is a rather popular place. However, the northern end holds the highest chance of getting you into the city undetected so long as you don't push your power."
"What's wrong with putting a Door in the city?" You ask, "Make things easier and we've done it before."
Number Man raises a skeptical eyebrow "And risk a gang of parahumans gunning you down the second that you step out? Not worth the risk. A Door will put you outside of the city, fly to the northern end, land, and I'll guide you to the meeting location. If it is taking place, we'll deal with it later. If you're caught, run, Door once you're out of sight," he stops, the dangerous gleam in his eyes forcing you to pay attention to the last order.
"Got it."
Number Man nods, picking up a com line as he heads back to the computer.
"Should the worst happen, do us all a favor and try not to break the city."
"Your faith in me is astounding," you say, complete deadpan.
"Let the record show, I'm desperate," he admits, "Any questions?"
"Just one," you answer, and Number Man frowns as you point at the screen, "Where did you find this?"
The kid's expression is as flat as ever, but his body goes so still that it barely disturbs a single wave. You throw a hand up, and back away.
"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, don't worry, I don't need to hear about it." You pause, and you try not to grimace, "So long as you aren't trying to get something more than info out of this."
Number Man's brow furrows, and he starts tapping that beat again.
"I remember you not giving Doctor Mother the same courtesy last week."
You shrug, you're not going to deny it.
"She doesn't have my trust."
You bring every bit of self-control that you have out to keep the waves from crushing something. Doesn't stop your hand from putting a dent in the desk. Number Man notices, his eyes flickering between the damage and you. Slowly, you release
"You say that, while I, on the other hand, came from a group of… less than savory individuals."
You raise an eyebrow, that's not what you would call Incubus. And if he was the measuring stick for what the rest of them are like, then less than savory was missing a few words.
"So?"
"What's different for me?" The kid's eyes are wide, and you don't need to be a genius to hear the surprise.
"Number Man," you feel ridiculous calling him that. It's so on the nose it hurts. No flair at all, but you continue, "I've come by enough to know you want to work. I don't know what the hell you're trying to do, and frankly, I don't care. Cause if you were going to turn on us, you would've, and if you wanted to leave, you could've."
"I could be playing the long game?" Number man points out.
You roll your eyes, "You're asking me for help."
You can see the realization flash across his face. Number Man fiddles with something in his pocket. He stares at you for a long moment, a thousand numbers going through his head. For a second, he stops tapping the table.
"Thank you."
You flash him a smile, "Anytime."
He freezes again and looks at you with something that you can't place. Disbelief? Maybe, but you don't question it when he opens a desk drawer and throws a sweatshirt at you. You catch it and he taps his ear, "Door, 40.7132, -68.675."
An oh so familiar door of light rips into the air in front of you. On the other side, swirling oceans rested beneath a night sky. In the distance, you catch the shining outline of a city.
"Call out landmarks, and I'll know from there."
You can't really nod while you're putting on the sweatshirt, but doesn't even look at you long enough to see if you did.
"Remember, just observation."
Cracking your neck, you give him a thumbs up as you step through the door and into open air. For a second, you let the wind roar in your ears, sliding into a gentle freefall.
Unfortunately, waves, even when untouched, don't leave you a lot of time to enjoy the fall before the water becomes to close for comfort. A mental clench and the waves wrap around you, carrying you over the water faster than any car on the highway. Not even close to your max, but having a sonic boom blast over a bay kind of kills the idea of stealth. Then again, your glowing ass doesn't help matters either, but the cities already lit up, not like you're going to stick out if you're quick enough.
You hope.
Though, the sight of the boardwalk doesn't do much to help. It's nice to look at, shops and cafes lining the beach and more apartment buildings shoved together then was probably necessary. Wide sidewalks and enough spare change put into the streetlights to turn the entire cost into a rave station if someone wanted.
You knew the type of place. Looks nice, and if you had the cash, everyone and everything in it would be nice too. But if you don't have the money, then someone would be ready to make it look a whole lot worse. Hopefully, this casino wasn't anywhere near here, but you weren't holding your breath.
What you were going to do was land at the edge of the beach, somewhere in the middle of the boardwalk that looks deserted. As you land, you break the waves, ridding yourself of the soft golden glow of your powers and letting a cool breeze greet you.
Welcome to Brockton Bay Alex, you think.
Another breeze answers you and as fast as you can you make your way up to and out of the fancier parts of the walk before anyone noticed that you were there. A minute of walking and you're in the city proper, or at least the downtown parts of it. Calm streets, even at this time of night, and a skyscraper in pretty much every other lot.
Feels like home. You hit an intersection, checking the street name as you head through.
"I'm passing onto Lord Street heading by the Central Bank," you whisper.
"Where is the bank according to you?"
"On my right," you say, merging back to your end of the sidewalk when you get the other side. A few people send questioning looks your way, the few intentive that know an outsider heading through. Everyone else? No one cared. Everyone's too busy going on their way to give you any looks. Best piece of luck that's happened to you all day. Here you are, in a city and no one knows that it's you.
That's a small reason you're here. Every day it's been the same. Fly into a city, stop a crime, help the world. This time though, you're doing all of that, without a suit. You're normal again.
And it feels… wrong.
No mask, no bulletproof shirt. Just you and the waves.
Good lord, why did you agree to this?
"What's your intersection?"
A glance to a street light you have to stretch your arms to cover the tap against your ear, "Lord Street and 6th street."
You barely hear the hum on the other end, probably the second that it takes him to find you with his power. "Keep heading north," You take a breath, "forward," and your jaw swings close, "When you see a cafe named The Coffee Grinder, turn right."
You barely manage to catch yourself from nodding. Cause that won't draw any attention, a random guy talking to himself and nodding to nothing. Play it off all you want, wouldn't go over very well if someone thinks you're a parahuman and freaks out over it.
Well, you are a parahuman, but someone might think you're not the kid of parahuman who helps them out. And if that happens, the last thing you need to do is broadcast that you're in the city when the Empire is having a meeting.
Your foot nearly catches a crack in the sidewalk as you almost freeze. When the hell did you start thinking like this? Rebecca must be rubbing off on you. A grin spreads across your face at the thought. What are you going to do about her? In a perfect world, you'd probably have the answer to that question.
But you're not in a perfect world; you're walking through Brockton Bay so distracted by a random thought that you nearly miss the cafe. You've got to come to a screeching halt, jumping to the right before you start heading into the street. Almost bash straight into someone.
"Sorry," you call.
He flips you the bird, as he goes by.
Lovely people in this city. Then again, home wasn't exactly the nicest place either, so who are you to judge.
"Just turned," you say to the coms.
"Head forward for three blocks, and it should be the first alway on your right. Shouldn't be hard to miss."
You went as instructed, taking care not to hit anyone this time. Going beyond that, you're head goes on a swivel. You're not the brightest bulb, but if you were throwing a big drive for parahumans, you'd put a big guy on the lookout at the corner of the alleyways. Well, no, it doesn't have to be a big guy. Parahumans don't need fit that mold anymore, look at yourself. You're barely scratching five ten, you're skinnier than Rebecca and you can also throw a skyscraper at someone if you feel like it.
Even including shrimps like you, there's nobody around the corners even leading up to it. Back home during this time of night, there's always someone close to the stores. Late night smoke break, a quiet corner to puke in after a drink, you name it. So either this side of the US was a whole lot tamer than the side you're used to, or someone cleared someone out.
Getting to the third corner, Number Man said that it wouldn't be hard to miss, and he was right.
The lights have seen better days, but the neon colors that spelled out Ruby Dreams hangs firmly on the cage over a metal canopy. Down a few steps, you have to blink away the dots from the gleaming ruby door. And if that wasn't enough, you're ears got a good assault as well. Despite being at the street, the drum of the bass hits you like a sledgehammer.
That's nothing compared to the bouncers. There are three of them: two guys and a girl with one of the guys leaning against the cage next to the door. He isn't much to talk about, a bald guy with a cut on his lip and mismatched eyes that focused on you despite the distance. His hands moved out of an expensive leather jacket, and the action spired his two friends. The girl has a bit more flair in her outfit, a masquerade mask barely hiding brilliant blue eyes. All things being equal, if you hadn't met Rebecca or Contessa, she'd be the prettiest girl you've seen. Didn't hurt that she looked your age, if not a little younger. Not that she seemed to care, the rest of her dress and a mink of all things left little to the imagination with their windows. The other guy looked somewhere between ten to fifteen years older than you with the weight to match, fitting the classic bodyguard mold perfect. His arms are the size of your head for god's sake. Fit him with a black knight set, and you'd be looking at Onslaught all over again. He smiles, and with barely a squint he meets your gaze.
Your breath hitches, you feel your blood freeze, and right now you want to run. Fuck Number Man and his favor. Fuck this entire city, anything to get you away from that guy! You swallow, only to find your mouth dry. His smiles widen, and you're not ashamed to admit a bead of sweat trailed down your neck. He reaches to his side, and you're already turning.
And your next breath is as easy as it's ever been. The realization almost makes you trip. You reach up to your head, bone dry. The bouncer, this is his power it's got to be. One look into his eyes and you're beyond helpless.
Mission or not that's horrifying. Waves don't stop eye contact. On the plus side, it was the fear induced neon sign that answered if something was going on tonight. You turn the corner and head down the street you came in as fast of a walk that you can manage.
"Number Man, long story short I saw them, they saw me."
The coms pick up the hitch in his breath.
"Get out of there, now!"
Don't need to tell me twice, you think.
Your pace goes up a few notches, and you're three blocks away from the club before you notice. Taking a deep breath, you return to your normal speed and turning the corner to a less populated street. That guy must've put something else into your head if you're still this shaken. Yeah, that's it, you're just working through the after effects. Not like he could hurt you. Even if he pulled a gun, it wasn't getting through your waves. And even scared, a twitch is all it would take to send him to a wall.
You mean, you're Atlas, you took down Symphony, you don't need to be afraid of some bouncer punk. Just take a breath, close your eyes and vent a little. All at once, waves become your eyes. A giant wall of color shimmers around the buildings while the busy sidewalk is a canvas of a thousand competing shapes. You can't pick out too many details with all the moving parts, but the form is just as bright as the buildings and cars around you.
All it takes is a bit of movement, and a new shape comes in. Your range isn't too long, barely half a block at most if you wanted to keep your head on straight. Might not be too far, but it's enough to check if alleyways are safe for a Door. Something you should've done with the casino. But Number Man didn't see it, David didn't see it, and thank god Rebecca didn't either.
Forgetting all of that, it's time to move on and get back. There's a free alley to your right. You blink through the gold and force reality to come back into focus. By the time that you can see normally again, you're in the alley, ignoring the smell and dodging the dumpster until you're far enough from the street that no one should see the Door.
You're also far enough that it doesn't mask the click of heels. You stop at the corner and see that girl with the mask and one of her little friends. The guy that was next to the main door stood a fair distance behind her. He waves at you, clicking his tongue and grinning like he earned a million bucks.
"That's some mighty fine tech that you've got in your ear mate. Better than coming out of Uncle Sam's pocket," he pauses pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, "You ain't a cop, so a brother's got to ask. You make it?"
"Who gives a shit if he made it," the girl says. Her voice is cracked, like someone who hadn't talked in weeks.
She raises her hand, and above her, six jagged sheets of metal appeared out of nothing. Their edges sharpened into points shining and deadly, ready to screwer you were you stood.
"I give a shit, about who he's talking to."
Okay, this time, you're a little scared. Waves build on your hands, hidden under your jacket, but you don't unleash them. You got to think this out. You're barely fifty feet from a busy street full of a bunch of people that don't have a power to protect them. Think Alex, think, you better...
[] Throw out the waves. Knock them out and gett through a Door before they even know what hit them. Might tip them off of who you really are, but anything's better than getting skewered.
[] Play up a lie, maybe you can play off making your earpieces. If he's interested, maybe you can work out a deal.
[] Tell them you're part of Cauldron. An organization that's completely loaded interested in them? Might be a good way to line their pockets. Could also get you skewered, but it's a risk.
[] Something else?
-[] Write-In
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