Silence is Not Consent
- Thread starter justanothercat
- Start date
-
- Tags
- worm
- Location
- Minnesota
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Unequivocally.
Aminadab_Brulle
Decimus Computator
Hookwolf is currently busy with being Jack's little bitch:
And riding to Canada(?):Communication 1.2 said:
While Chosen have already been kicked out by Undersiders:Confrontation 2.D said:
Confrontation 2.D said:
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
Wow. I knew this section of Worm isn't that well explored, but I really thought the e88 remnants stuck around a while. It really took the near destruction of the city to clean it up huh?
It certainly does recontexualize things. From the sound of things the Undersider/Travellers really are the greatest (known) threats in the Bay. I suppose the Heroes might still be busy with humanitarian aid and the like, but they probably could afford to look into Amy problem. But the difficulty is all centered around politics and appearances and not legitimate manpower concerns.
- Location
- The Internet?
Skitter, we've been over this!
It's almost like she's not as Undecided about being an Undersider. One of us, one of us!
Thrice over, don't forget the bombings!
- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
These two are so precious!!!! All I can do is gush about how much I love seeing how naturally this relationship is developing.
Lolololololololol Vicky at this point only Lisa has a more in depth an understanding than you on Taylor. You are THE expert at reading how shes feeling at any given time and its so cute. I cant wait until they each figure it out.
Lolololololololol Vicky at this point only Lisa has a more in depth an understanding than you on Taylor. You are THE expert at reading how shes feeling at any given time and its so cute. I cant wait until they each figure it out.
Binary 3.9
"Fuck," Skitter said, echoing my thoughts. "We need to leave. Now."
Well that was obvious, but where to? We were out in the open!
She glanced at me distractedly, already slipping into an analytical, tactical tone I recognised as she cocked her head. The last time I'd heard it, I'd wound up carrying her back to her base with blood all over her and a bolt through her shoulder, wondering all the while how I'd been talked into it.
I had a nasty feeling I was going to end up feeling that way again.
"By the sound of it, we have maybe three minutes," Skitter said, short and clipped. "Probably less. Atlas can't get here in time, and even if he could, he'd be too slow and too large a target. If we're going to get out of here, you need to fly us."
There it was. I stared at her incredulously. That was seriously the best plan she could come up with? She knew I was slower in the air when I was carrying someone! My field protected me from the worst of the effects of flying; it made me more aerodynamic, protected me from windchill, let me turn on a dime. But it didn't do shit for my passengers! If I had to bank hard, if I had a flashback and slipped, if she shifted her weight at all, I'd have no time to double back around-
Silk touched my hands. Warm. Smooth. Light – ever so light; barely touching me at all. I looked down at my hands, dumbly realizing I'd been signing fragments of my thoughts; stuttered gibberish that must still have gotten the gist across.
"Victoria," Skitter said, her hand still resting on mine. Not holding it, not restricting it. Just resting the tips of her fingers on the back of my palm, a firm, warm point of connection. "Victoria, we don't have time. You said you'd stand with me if Dragon came, and I can't make this choice for you. But you need to choose now."
I swallowed, meeting her eyes through the lenses. They gave away nothing. But the silk was damp with sweat, and her hair was stirring as the bugs between the tresses shook.
Fuck it.
"Where are we going?" I signed hurriedly.
"Anywhere but here," Skitter said, stepping closer and half-turning for a princess carry. "You won't be able to sign while carrying me. I'll yell if I need to tell you something. Squeeze once for a tight turn, twice if you have to let me go."
I grunted an acknowledgement as I picked her up. Fuck, it sounded so much more real when she put it like that. We were about to try and outrun Dragon. While flying. This was a terrible idea.
Like most of them lately. But some of them had worked anyway.
I looked around once more, trying to find another option. Something I'd overlooked, somewhere we could hide; anything. But the whine of Dragon's turbines was getting louder and louder, drowning out the drone of the circling swarm. We didn't have time for hiding places or other options. She knew where we were already. How could she not? We'd been talking to the Protectorate bare minutes ago!
No time left to hesitate. I shook myself and shot into the air. I could feel the wind buffeting off my forcefield. This was already off to a terrible start. Skitter had never flown with me this fast before, and it showed. She was tense, all but clinging to me. I tried not to take it personally. She'd need every ounce of that grip strength in a minute.
"Wait!" she yelled.
I froze, looking at her. Was she insane? We had about sixty seconds before we were confoamed in midair. Hell, I could see the sinuous shapes of the Dragonflight cutting across the ruined skyline from here! What could Skitter possibly want?
"Give me ten seconds to draw my swarm in. They won't be able to follow us at speed. I can release them strategically as smokescreens, or to slow her down."
Oh. That made sense. I gave her a quick jerk of a nod, eyes trained on the black shape in the middle distance, powering straight towards us across the Trainyard. I couldn't sign for her to be quick, but I didn't need to. She could see it coming too.
All at once, her swarm poured towards us. It plunged into her hair, engulfed her chest, disappearing into the gaps between her armor plating, the pockets in her belt, even a compartment in her back I'd never noticed until now.
"Fuck," Skitter grunted. "Not enough space. Need to put some on you. Can I?"
My heart thundered in my chest, my breaths came sharp and frantic. I forced the panic down. Skitter was a Master, yes. And she was putting her minions on me. But she was safe. She could only affect them, and she wouldn't hurt me. I knew that. She was asking first. Right now, that meant everything. And if it gave us even a chance of escaping Dragon, of escaping Carol, I had to put up with it.
I nodded.
Her swarm stretched out its buzzing, churning tendrils and took me in its grasp. It combed fingers of flies through my hair, twisting it into braids to better tighten its grip. It stroked ants and spiders across my scalp and wrapped a warm blanket of wasps around my back like a parody of my old cape. Across my chest it spread a vest of beetles, packed close together like body armor. I could feel them all, warm and humming on my temples, against my spine, in the hollows behind my ears and clinging tightly to my shirt.
They were heavy. Stifling. C-constricting–
"Hey," Skitter said, touching my cheek and tilting my head down to meet her gaze. "Ignore them. They aren't there. Focus on me, on where we're going. They'll let go as we move. The sooner we do that, the sooner they're gone."
I nodded. That, I could do. I glanced at the Dragonsuit, the sound of its engines now an oncoming roar that more than deserved its name. It was nearly on us. Thirty seconds, max. I couldn't head back to Skitter's base; she was too close. I wouldn't lead an enemy combatant to an orphanage. That left losing her downtown.
I spun south. There weren't a ton of options. The central area surrounding Medhall and the financial sector was out of the question. Too many skyscrapers and civilians. The commercial district was also out. What I needed was open space, so I could capitalize on my mobility and turning radius.
The crater from Leviathan might work.
I just had to beat her to it.
We shot forward with a crack of displaced air. Skitter grunted as the acceleration pressed her back against my chest, but I didn't have time to apologize. Every second counted now.
"On your left!" she yelled, and I dared a glance back. Sure enough, the Dragonsuit was only about three hundred feet back. It didn't look like much, but from what I remembered of Leviathan, that meant we were already in range. Goddammit!
"I'll tell you when to dodge!" Skitter screamed over the wind. I nodded and doubled down on squeezing out every last ounce of speed. It wasn't going to be enough.
"Right!"
I dipped and rolled, putting myself on the outside of the turn as we swerved. The centrifugal force crushed Skitter against me hard enough that I heard the breath whoosh out of her lungs, but it earned us a turn sharp enough to draw with a ruler. And not a second too soon. A small canister shot past us, sailing into the space ahead. I lost track of it for a moment, but it must have hit a building because there was an explosion of containment foam below before that too was swept away. Shit!
"Keep moving!"
I bared my teeth and curved back towards the crater, glancing over my shoulder as I did. That dodge had cost us about fifty feet. And she was still gaining.
But we were almost there. I threw us into a tight spiral as we shot forward, trying to cover the last six hundred feet before Dragon could cycle another round. I knew those confoam grenades were propelled by compressed gas, but her main limit was probably her targeting solution. That meant the more erratic our flight, the better.
My grimace twisted upward into a snarl of adrenaline. Erratic. Cool. I could do that. The buildings were getting more obviously worn and dilapidated the closer we got to the crater, and the civilian presence had petered out to almost nothing over the last block.
Perfect.
Dragon's engines screamed behind us as I dropped us into a steep dive and pulled up bare feet above the ground, skimming over the pavement. I remembered reading somewhere that flying close to the surface like this could confuse radar based targeting. I didn't know for sure that Dragon was using radar, but it was worth a shot.
The howling wind and the roar of her afterburners drowned out any sound from the suit itself, but I swore I heard the next round cycle into the Dragonsuit's gun as we skipped over the crater. I took a deep breath, squeezed Skitter's leg, and curled protectively over her for another tight turn.
This time I turned down.
The sudden change in acceleration hit us like a truck. I heard a muffled grunt against my chest as Skitter took the worst of it. I just had to hope I wasn't hurting her. At the same time a layer of the flies and insects in my hair spilled away, fanning out to cover where we'd gone. Clever. The remaining bugs on me were mostly fine–the forcefield protected them from most of the incidental wind and momentum changes.
We'd gone from straight-line flight to a vertical plunge so fast that Skitter's hair was still whipping forward from inertia as I slammed on the brakes, feeling her weight press down harder on my arms as I slowed us to a hover and then floated back to hug the crater wall. No sooner had my heels touched the muddy side than the Dragonsuit shot out ahead of us through the remaining cloud of bugs.
Just as planned. To Dragon's sensors, it would look like we just disappeared over the cliff edge. And in the shadow of the crater, we wouldn't stand out.
Hopefully.
I didn't have an arm free, so I had to over-emphasise an awkward silent shushing sound as the suit shot over us, but Skitter seemed to get the message. We couldn't afford to draw attention to ourselves now. The only hope we had was that Dragon might not be thorough enough to do a full sweep until she'd realized we weren't–
The suit banked hard, guns sweeping across the crater walls, and I groaned. Fuck. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. I had seconds to come up with a new plan before she found us again.
Okay, losing her behind cover wasn't working. What about blind spots? I knew if nothing else that I had a tighter turning circle than she did. If I could just stay out of range behind her for long enough, we might be able to exhaust her, or force a standoff.
I squeezed Skitter again, then shot out low against the muddy surface of the water. The crack of our acceleration and the plume of spray we were dragging in our wake definitely got her attention, but that was fine. She was going to detect us regardless. The important thing was that the speed we gained in exchange was just enough for us to get fully under her before she could react.
Dragon seemed to sense what I was planning, and started to flip the suit upside down to bring her weapons to bear. But I was already moving up and over, careful to flip Skitter again so she was facing the inside of the arc. She'd be upside down for the last bit, but the vertigo would be better than the centrifugal force.
Just like that, we were in her blind spot. Up and out of her line of fire, behind the head but above the backwash of the engines, between its neck and its lower spine.
"She's turning!" Skitter yelled.
She was right. Dragon was already trying to flip around. Skitter was going to have to hang on. I matched her revolution, flinging us up and around to stay behind Dragon's back. She angled her thrusters into abrupt reverse and I danced us backward to maintain our carefully calculated distance; she dropped into a spinning dive and I orbited her like a remora clinging to a shark.
Again and again we danced, one behind the other, each constantly trying to catch the other off guard. Dragon was clever. She kept up her bucking and spinning just long enough to let me think I had the edge over her, then started breaking her rhythm. She'd abort a turn midmotion, change the direction on a time with maneuvering jets, even loop around to try and confuse me in three dimensional space. Throughout it all, I stuck to her back like glue.
But only barely. There were too many near misses to count, and a couple of heart-stoppingly close shaves that almost tagged us. The first one was when Dragon got frustrated enough to start launching grenades at the space her next spin would force us to dodge into. That trick would've gotten me if Skitter hadn't seen it coming and screamed a warning.
We survived, but it came at a cost. After my reflexive jink took us out of the way of the first grenade by blind luck, Skitter spread her bugs out in a thin swarm, sensing the grenades and leaning her weight away from them, telling me which side of Dragon's unprotected back to hug. It worked, but my cape of hornets dwindled down to nothing, eaten up bit by bit with every flurry and barrel roll.
"This is working!"
Still, for as long as her bugs held out, we were winning. Or at least holding our own. My chest was heaving, there was sweat plastering my neck and forehead, but the wild, triumphant grin on my face stretched from cheek to cheek. I was dogfighting with Dragon. And beating her!
And that was when it all went wrong. Dragon stopped in midair and started to fold. The back of her armor sprouted spines and flexed out like origami, plates and vents changing configuration even as we watched. It happened so fast that I didn't realize what she was doing until the guns bent around like double-jointed elbows to get a bead on us. She had folded herself inside out to get us in front of her!
I shot upward, feeling the confoam round pass inches under my feet. I was pretty sure it had been aimed at my face this time. Apparently she didn't appreciate being outflown.
Okay, clearly this wasn't working. I knew that fighting Dragon was a shitty idea, but even just trying to stay out of her way was a nightmare. I was out of options, and I knew it. Evading didn't work. Bug screening didn't work. Dogfighting didn't work. Without directly hitting her, which I couldn't do while carrying Skitter, I didn't know what choice I had.
"Victoria!" Skitter yelled in my ear.
I looked at her as we skimmed across the ground in the crater.
"Go downtown between the skyscraper-LEFT!"
I shot to the left violently enough that Skitter let out a strangled yell, and felt sticky flecks of confoam spatter my arm like blobs of glue, swelling up to the size of peas in seconds. Fuck, that was close. Zigzagging up and back as the Dragonsuit passed under us again, I looked down at Skitter in confusion. Had the panic made her lose her mind? We couldn't go downtown; the collateral damage would be horrific! If Dragon missed even one shot–
"Trust me!" she shouted over the wind, and threw herself backward against the steel grip of my arms. I took the cue and swerved with her, hearing another shot whistle past us and detonate midair just short of where we'd been. More small blobs of confoam splattered my legs; I could feel the expanding lumps tugging on the fabric. These pants were going to be a write-off for sure.
"I don't want to hurt people!" Skitter continued. I could feel her breathing hard against my chest, one arm wrapped around my neck to steady herself as she bent her head towards my ear. "But I don't think she does either! We can use that!"
That made my skin go cold and clammy, despite the sweat coating every inch of me. The very idea felt wrong, like I was putting innocent lives between me and a Hero. And in a certain sense, I was. But… Skitter was also right. Dragon was a Hero, in every sense of the word. She wouldn't fire if there was even a chance someone got hurt. And she was the one herding us into a corner. If this is what it took to get me away from Carol… I could deal with the consequences after. Just this once.
I squeezed Skitter again and shot back up into the sky. The roar of Dragon's engines followed us, but I wasn't looking at her anymore. As we climbed out of the crater I turned to the downtown skyline and swallowed the lump in my throat. No second thoughts now.
We reached the crest of our ascent and I launched us like an arrow in a ballistic curve over the few blocks between the crater and what remained of downtown. Dragon must have realized what we were doing because I heard the sound of her engines kick up a notch in pitch and get a hell of a lot louder. Probably trying to stop us from reaching what was a terrible environment for her to navigate. But it was too late. We shot between what was once the Medhall building and the old Telecomm skyscraper, and she was forced to veer off, gaining height so as not to clip her wings on the looming tower blocks.
I rolled over onto my back, cradling Skitter on top of me so I could look up and track her. She hung in the air above us like a monstrous bird of prey, waiting to dive down and sink its talons into its hapless prey. Then, as if that wasn't enough of a nightmare, little shapes started splitting off of her shoulders. I knew what those were. Drones.
"We need to get back to Charlotte!" Skitter called hoarsely.
I looked down. Seriously? Dragon could still see us! We'd lead her right back to the lair!
"Tattletale told her that we were housing refugees! Insurance policy! We thought it would–DOWN!"
We dropped like a stone, just barely catching a whiff of displaced air and a shock of static electricity. My hair would look like a nightmare after this.
I spun us over again, Skitter in a princess-carry once more, and threw a look back over my shoulder to see what was after us now–
Fuck. Of course. Of course Dragon would have specialty drones equipped with net launchers that magnetized to the fucking building superstructure. The next minute or so was a swerving, juking slalom from hell as I wound my way between the towers, under the baleful eye of the monster above us, trying to buy us time while Skitter kept talking. The first net had been fired from range, but the drones were catching up fast and I was running out of room to maneuver.
"We thought she wouldn't attack us if she knew there were kids! Tattletale had a hunch! Didn't want to test it, but no other choice!"
I propelled us upward as another net flew beneath us, this one close enough to make my hair stand on end before it wrapped itself around a lamp post and bent it twenty degrees. Fuck. She was right. There was no other choice I could think of that would stop Dragon. But wouldn't this make me just as bad as Charlotte always thought I was? Bringing a threat down right on their doorstep? How could I do this?
"Dammit Victoria, we're out of time!" Skitter yelled.
I looked up, and saw that she was right. There was a drone ahead of us, already in position, lining up its net launcher. Shit. The decision was made for me. Like so many lately.
I waited until the last second before ripping us upward through a punishing vertical turn that even I felt. It forced a ragged scream out of Skitter – literally; it pushed the air right out of her lungs past vocal chords left raw from shouting. This time I felt the edge of the net brush against my forcefield, sending tingles all down my left arm. But the drones were close enough that the one behind us got caught in the aborted shot. That might buy us a few extra seconds.
We'd need it.
We cleared the top of the drone ahead of us with a small enough margin that the tip of my foot smacked into it, sending it reeling downward, and shot straight north towards Skitter's base. I could hear the Dragonsuit re-engage as we left the downtown skyline, but for once, time and momentum were on our side. She was too far back, and couldn't accelerate fast enough to catch us before we made it to the base. The only question was whether we could avoid the drones for long enough to get there.
Skitter read my mind, leaning up to my ear. "Go in through the roof, punch a hole if you have to!" she ordered. "Top floor's empty! I'll cover us visually for as long as I can!"
I nodded, accelerating forward as fast as I dared. At this speed, a sudden stop like earlier might give Skitter whiplash. But we couldn't afford safety now. Not with the whine of the drones close on our heels.
We were almost there. I could see the roof entrance of the hideout, where I had deposited a badly wounded Skitter what felt like years ago. She'd needed medical attention then, and if she needed it now from how I'd been throwing her around we were fucked, but that was a problem for later. For now we just had to get inside.
As we approached, I started to slow down. I had to; if we hit at this speed I'd kill my passenger. Skitter must have sensed the shift, because every remaining bug that had survived the chase so far flew off us in a massive wave, filling the sky behind us in a black cloud of sound and writhing tendrils.
Maybe it was the tiny bit of extra speed I gained from the lost weight. Maybe it was her bugs confusing the targeting sensors. Maybe it was the ever so slightly sleeker aerodynamic profile. But whatever it was, we made it to the door to the roof entrance before the drones above could take another shot. I turned us round as the roof rushed towards us, cradling Skitter in my arms, my back facing the door. I just had to hope that my forcefield would be enough to–
Impact.
My forcefield broke instantly, turning the door into matchwood. I threw on the brakes as hard as I could and gasped as Skitter's inertia hit my ribs like a sandbag thrown from a car. Even the full force of my flight wasn't enough to stop us, but it did enough that we only slammed into the concrete wall at the speed of a dead sprint, instead of pancaking ourselves across it. Crushed between Skitter and the unforgiving surface, all my breath escaped me in a wheezing gasp, and we bounced off the wall with the wind knocked out of both of us.
My head was ringing. My heart was pounding triple-time against my ribs. My back was one solid bruise, and my chest felt like it was on fire. My arms and fingers ached something fierce from where I had been clutching Skitter, and my neck felt like it was permanently skewed from how she'd been clutching me. I must have taken at least three years off of my life in as many minutes.
But we'd made it.
As I helplessly coughed and sputtered and gasped for air, my forcefield snapped back into shape around me. Still wheezing and gulping oxygen, I started to laugh; a hacking chuckle that Skitter joined in from where she was doing the same on top of me.
God damn. That had really happened.
My lungs eased up slowly as I got my breath back, but the hysterical giggles only got harder and harder, until I was crying from the delayed fear and stress and exertion. I couldn't tell what Skitter was doing behind the mask, but it sounded more like laughter than tears. We clung to each other for a long moment as our hysterics rose, crested, and then slowly subsided, leaving us panting for breath, slowly realizing our position.
We couldn't have been any closer if we'd tried. She was plastered half on top of me, half fallen off to one side, her bad shoulder limp across my chest. Her wind-strewn hair fell down to one side of our faces in a tangled black curtain, and our faces were so close together that we were almost forehead to forehead. This close, in the mix of sunlight and shadow flooding in through the broken door, I almost thought I could make out the faintest shape of an eyebrow and eye through the yellow lens. Entranced, I started to bring my hand up, and–
"Boss!"
We both jerked hard enough to throw Skitter off me, and looked up to see Charlotte falling over herself to get through the door. "Boss, what happened?"
"Dragon," Skitter grunted, slowly pushing herself upright. I caught her good arm hand before she could stumble and surreptitiously helped push her upright under the guise of letting her pull me up. "We tried to avoid her. No dice. Came back here. Hopefully that–"
She cut herself off as the dreaded turbine whine approached. I spun towards the shattered doorframe. Goddammit, no! We'd made it! We were home! This wasn't fair!
Stepping up beside Skitter, we cautiously made our way over to the window. And sure enough, there was Dragon, landing on the roof of the building across the street, looking dead at us. The tiles shook as she set down, engines shutting off and folding away to be replaced by claws and canons.
She shook herself, almost like a living thing – ruffled her feathers, if that was the right way to describe it – and then the noise ceased entirely and she settled down. Watching us with reptilian patience.
That's when it occurred to me what had really just happened.
Dragon had just landed in front of Skitter's base. And she wasn't leaving.
A/N:
Aleph refused to let this one die, it just kept getting longer. At least y'all get to (sort of) see how I write action now. Was that exciting? I sure hope so because I hate writing these things lmao.
I have no concept of shame and regret nothing. ~Aleph
I'm seriously excited for what comes next in the fic, we're getting into some of the (personally speaking) more interesting and nuanced personal interactions. Don't worry, I'm sure Dragon keeping Skitter and Victoria trapped in a house will do wonders for their friendship. Trust me.
Today's recommendation, in honor of the titular character, is Chain by Truebeasts on Ao3. A fic about Colin and Dragon which unironically made me root for a straight couple. I could say something else, but that really says all you need to know. Go read it.
Just gonna point out that a couple comprised of a trans-identifying gynoid and a probably-bisexual-going-on-vibes-alone literal transhuman might be heterosexual but doesn't qualify as straight. Queer rep represent! ~ Aleph
Fight me.
Well that was obvious, but where to? We were out in the open!
She glanced at me distractedly, already slipping into an analytical, tactical tone I recognised as she cocked her head. The last time I'd heard it, I'd wound up carrying her back to her base with blood all over her and a bolt through her shoulder, wondering all the while how I'd been talked into it.
I had a nasty feeling I was going to end up feeling that way again.
"By the sound of it, we have maybe three minutes," Skitter said, short and clipped. "Probably less. Atlas can't get here in time, and even if he could, he'd be too slow and too large a target. If we're going to get out of here, you need to fly us."
There it was. I stared at her incredulously. That was seriously the best plan she could come up with? She knew I was slower in the air when I was carrying someone! My field protected me from the worst of the effects of flying; it made me more aerodynamic, protected me from windchill, let me turn on a dime. But it didn't do shit for my passengers! If I had to bank hard, if I had a flashback and slipped, if she shifted her weight at all, I'd have no time to double back around-
Silk touched my hands. Warm. Smooth. Light – ever so light; barely touching me at all. I looked down at my hands, dumbly realizing I'd been signing fragments of my thoughts; stuttered gibberish that must still have gotten the gist across.
"Victoria," Skitter said, her hand still resting on mine. Not holding it, not restricting it. Just resting the tips of her fingers on the back of my palm, a firm, warm point of connection. "Victoria, we don't have time. You said you'd stand with me if Dragon came, and I can't make this choice for you. But you need to choose now."
I swallowed, meeting her eyes through the lenses. They gave away nothing. But the silk was damp with sweat, and her hair was stirring as the bugs between the tresses shook.
Fuck it.
"Where are we going?" I signed hurriedly.
"Anywhere but here," Skitter said, stepping closer and half-turning for a princess carry. "You won't be able to sign while carrying me. I'll yell if I need to tell you something. Squeeze once for a tight turn, twice if you have to let me go."
I grunted an acknowledgement as I picked her up. Fuck, it sounded so much more real when she put it like that. We were about to try and outrun Dragon. While flying. This was a terrible idea.
Like most of them lately. But some of them had worked anyway.
I looked around once more, trying to find another option. Something I'd overlooked, somewhere we could hide; anything. But the whine of Dragon's turbines was getting louder and louder, drowning out the drone of the circling swarm. We didn't have time for hiding places or other options. She knew where we were already. How could she not? We'd been talking to the Protectorate bare minutes ago!
No time left to hesitate. I shook myself and shot into the air. I could feel the wind buffeting off my forcefield. This was already off to a terrible start. Skitter had never flown with me this fast before, and it showed. She was tense, all but clinging to me. I tried not to take it personally. She'd need every ounce of that grip strength in a minute.
"Wait!" she yelled.
I froze, looking at her. Was she insane? We had about sixty seconds before we were confoamed in midair. Hell, I could see the sinuous shapes of the Dragonflight cutting across the ruined skyline from here! What could Skitter possibly want?
"Give me ten seconds to draw my swarm in. They won't be able to follow us at speed. I can release them strategically as smokescreens, or to slow her down."
Oh. That made sense. I gave her a quick jerk of a nod, eyes trained on the black shape in the middle distance, powering straight towards us across the Trainyard. I couldn't sign for her to be quick, but I didn't need to. She could see it coming too.
All at once, her swarm poured towards us. It plunged into her hair, engulfed her chest, disappearing into the gaps between her armor plating, the pockets in her belt, even a compartment in her back I'd never noticed until now.
"Fuck," Skitter grunted. "Not enough space. Need to put some on you. Can I?"
My heart thundered in my chest, my breaths came sharp and frantic. I forced the panic down. Skitter was a Master, yes. And she was putting her minions on me. But she was safe. She could only affect them, and she wouldn't hurt me. I knew that. She was asking first. Right now, that meant everything. And if it gave us even a chance of escaping Dragon, of escaping Carol, I had to put up with it.
I nodded.
Her swarm stretched out its buzzing, churning tendrils and took me in its grasp. It combed fingers of flies through my hair, twisting it into braids to better tighten its grip. It stroked ants and spiders across my scalp and wrapped a warm blanket of wasps around my back like a parody of my old cape. Across my chest it spread a vest of beetles, packed close together like body armor. I could feel them all, warm and humming on my temples, against my spine, in the hollows behind my ears and clinging tightly to my shirt.
They were heavy. Stifling. C-constricting–
"Hey," Skitter said, touching my cheek and tilting my head down to meet her gaze. "Ignore them. They aren't there. Focus on me, on where we're going. They'll let go as we move. The sooner we do that, the sooner they're gone."
I nodded. That, I could do. I glanced at the Dragonsuit, the sound of its engines now an oncoming roar that more than deserved its name. It was nearly on us. Thirty seconds, max. I couldn't head back to Skitter's base; she was too close. I wouldn't lead an enemy combatant to an orphanage. That left losing her downtown.
I spun south. There weren't a ton of options. The central area surrounding Medhall and the financial sector was out of the question. Too many skyscrapers and civilians. The commercial district was also out. What I needed was open space, so I could capitalize on my mobility and turning radius.
The crater from Leviathan might work.
I just had to beat her to it.
We shot forward with a crack of displaced air. Skitter grunted as the acceleration pressed her back against my chest, but I didn't have time to apologize. Every second counted now.
"On your left!" she yelled, and I dared a glance back. Sure enough, the Dragonsuit was only about three hundred feet back. It didn't look like much, but from what I remembered of Leviathan, that meant we were already in range. Goddammit!
"I'll tell you when to dodge!" Skitter screamed over the wind. I nodded and doubled down on squeezing out every last ounce of speed. It wasn't going to be enough.
"Right!"
I dipped and rolled, putting myself on the outside of the turn as we swerved. The centrifugal force crushed Skitter against me hard enough that I heard the breath whoosh out of her lungs, but it earned us a turn sharp enough to draw with a ruler. And not a second too soon. A small canister shot past us, sailing into the space ahead. I lost track of it for a moment, but it must have hit a building because there was an explosion of containment foam below before that too was swept away. Shit!
"Keep moving!"
I bared my teeth and curved back towards the crater, glancing over my shoulder as I did. That dodge had cost us about fifty feet. And she was still gaining.
But we were almost there. I threw us into a tight spiral as we shot forward, trying to cover the last six hundred feet before Dragon could cycle another round. I knew those confoam grenades were propelled by compressed gas, but her main limit was probably her targeting solution. That meant the more erratic our flight, the better.
My grimace twisted upward into a snarl of adrenaline. Erratic. Cool. I could do that. The buildings were getting more obviously worn and dilapidated the closer we got to the crater, and the civilian presence had petered out to almost nothing over the last block.
Perfect.
Dragon's engines screamed behind us as I dropped us into a steep dive and pulled up bare feet above the ground, skimming over the pavement. I remembered reading somewhere that flying close to the surface like this could confuse radar based targeting. I didn't know for sure that Dragon was using radar, but it was worth a shot.
The howling wind and the roar of her afterburners drowned out any sound from the suit itself, but I swore I heard the next round cycle into the Dragonsuit's gun as we skipped over the crater. I took a deep breath, squeezed Skitter's leg, and curled protectively over her for another tight turn.
This time I turned down.
The sudden change in acceleration hit us like a truck. I heard a muffled grunt against my chest as Skitter took the worst of it. I just had to hope I wasn't hurting her. At the same time a layer of the flies and insects in my hair spilled away, fanning out to cover where we'd gone. Clever. The remaining bugs on me were mostly fine–the forcefield protected them from most of the incidental wind and momentum changes.
We'd gone from straight-line flight to a vertical plunge so fast that Skitter's hair was still whipping forward from inertia as I slammed on the brakes, feeling her weight press down harder on my arms as I slowed us to a hover and then floated back to hug the crater wall. No sooner had my heels touched the muddy side than the Dragonsuit shot out ahead of us through the remaining cloud of bugs.
Just as planned. To Dragon's sensors, it would look like we just disappeared over the cliff edge. And in the shadow of the crater, we wouldn't stand out.
Hopefully.
I didn't have an arm free, so I had to over-emphasise an awkward silent shushing sound as the suit shot over us, but Skitter seemed to get the message. We couldn't afford to draw attention to ourselves now. The only hope we had was that Dragon might not be thorough enough to do a full sweep until she'd realized we weren't–
The suit banked hard, guns sweeping across the crater walls, and I groaned. Fuck. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. I had seconds to come up with a new plan before she found us again.
Okay, losing her behind cover wasn't working. What about blind spots? I knew if nothing else that I had a tighter turning circle than she did. If I could just stay out of range behind her for long enough, we might be able to exhaust her, or force a standoff.
I squeezed Skitter again, then shot out low against the muddy surface of the water. The crack of our acceleration and the plume of spray we were dragging in our wake definitely got her attention, but that was fine. She was going to detect us regardless. The important thing was that the speed we gained in exchange was just enough for us to get fully under her before she could react.
Dragon seemed to sense what I was planning, and started to flip the suit upside down to bring her weapons to bear. But I was already moving up and over, careful to flip Skitter again so she was facing the inside of the arc. She'd be upside down for the last bit, but the vertigo would be better than the centrifugal force.
Just like that, we were in her blind spot. Up and out of her line of fire, behind the head but above the backwash of the engines, between its neck and its lower spine.
"She's turning!" Skitter yelled.
She was right. Dragon was already trying to flip around. Skitter was going to have to hang on. I matched her revolution, flinging us up and around to stay behind Dragon's back. She angled her thrusters into abrupt reverse and I danced us backward to maintain our carefully calculated distance; she dropped into a spinning dive and I orbited her like a remora clinging to a shark.
Again and again we danced, one behind the other, each constantly trying to catch the other off guard. Dragon was clever. She kept up her bucking and spinning just long enough to let me think I had the edge over her, then started breaking her rhythm. She'd abort a turn midmotion, change the direction on a time with maneuvering jets, even loop around to try and confuse me in three dimensional space. Throughout it all, I stuck to her back like glue.
But only barely. There were too many near misses to count, and a couple of heart-stoppingly close shaves that almost tagged us. The first one was when Dragon got frustrated enough to start launching grenades at the space her next spin would force us to dodge into. That trick would've gotten me if Skitter hadn't seen it coming and screamed a warning.
We survived, but it came at a cost. After my reflexive jink took us out of the way of the first grenade by blind luck, Skitter spread her bugs out in a thin swarm, sensing the grenades and leaning her weight away from them, telling me which side of Dragon's unprotected back to hug. It worked, but my cape of hornets dwindled down to nothing, eaten up bit by bit with every flurry and barrel roll.
"This is working!"
Still, for as long as her bugs held out, we were winning. Or at least holding our own. My chest was heaving, there was sweat plastering my neck and forehead, but the wild, triumphant grin on my face stretched from cheek to cheek. I was dogfighting with Dragon. And beating her!
And that was when it all went wrong. Dragon stopped in midair and started to fold. The back of her armor sprouted spines and flexed out like origami, plates and vents changing configuration even as we watched. It happened so fast that I didn't realize what she was doing until the guns bent around like double-jointed elbows to get a bead on us. She had folded herself inside out to get us in front of her!
I shot upward, feeling the confoam round pass inches under my feet. I was pretty sure it had been aimed at my face this time. Apparently she didn't appreciate being outflown.
Okay, clearly this wasn't working. I knew that fighting Dragon was a shitty idea, but even just trying to stay out of her way was a nightmare. I was out of options, and I knew it. Evading didn't work. Bug screening didn't work. Dogfighting didn't work. Without directly hitting her, which I couldn't do while carrying Skitter, I didn't know what choice I had.
"Victoria!" Skitter yelled in my ear.
I looked at her as we skimmed across the ground in the crater.
"Go downtown between the skyscraper-LEFT!"
I shot to the left violently enough that Skitter let out a strangled yell, and felt sticky flecks of confoam spatter my arm like blobs of glue, swelling up to the size of peas in seconds. Fuck, that was close. Zigzagging up and back as the Dragonsuit passed under us again, I looked down at Skitter in confusion. Had the panic made her lose her mind? We couldn't go downtown; the collateral damage would be horrific! If Dragon missed even one shot–
"Trust me!" she shouted over the wind, and threw herself backward against the steel grip of my arms. I took the cue and swerved with her, hearing another shot whistle past us and detonate midair just short of where we'd been. More small blobs of confoam splattered my legs; I could feel the expanding lumps tugging on the fabric. These pants were going to be a write-off for sure.
"I don't want to hurt people!" Skitter continued. I could feel her breathing hard against my chest, one arm wrapped around my neck to steady herself as she bent her head towards my ear. "But I don't think she does either! We can use that!"
That made my skin go cold and clammy, despite the sweat coating every inch of me. The very idea felt wrong, like I was putting innocent lives between me and a Hero. And in a certain sense, I was. But… Skitter was also right. Dragon was a Hero, in every sense of the word. She wouldn't fire if there was even a chance someone got hurt. And she was the one herding us into a corner. If this is what it took to get me away from Carol… I could deal with the consequences after. Just this once.
I squeezed Skitter again and shot back up into the sky. The roar of Dragon's engines followed us, but I wasn't looking at her anymore. As we climbed out of the crater I turned to the downtown skyline and swallowed the lump in my throat. No second thoughts now.
We reached the crest of our ascent and I launched us like an arrow in a ballistic curve over the few blocks between the crater and what remained of downtown. Dragon must have realized what we were doing because I heard the sound of her engines kick up a notch in pitch and get a hell of a lot louder. Probably trying to stop us from reaching what was a terrible environment for her to navigate. But it was too late. We shot between what was once the Medhall building and the old Telecomm skyscraper, and she was forced to veer off, gaining height so as not to clip her wings on the looming tower blocks.
I rolled over onto my back, cradling Skitter on top of me so I could look up and track her. She hung in the air above us like a monstrous bird of prey, waiting to dive down and sink its talons into its hapless prey. Then, as if that wasn't enough of a nightmare, little shapes started splitting off of her shoulders. I knew what those were. Drones.
"We need to get back to Charlotte!" Skitter called hoarsely.
I looked down. Seriously? Dragon could still see us! We'd lead her right back to the lair!
"Tattletale told her that we were housing refugees! Insurance policy! We thought it would–DOWN!"
We dropped like a stone, just barely catching a whiff of displaced air and a shock of static electricity. My hair would look like a nightmare after this.
I spun us over again, Skitter in a princess-carry once more, and threw a look back over my shoulder to see what was after us now–
Fuck. Of course. Of course Dragon would have specialty drones equipped with net launchers that magnetized to the fucking building superstructure. The next minute or so was a swerving, juking slalom from hell as I wound my way between the towers, under the baleful eye of the monster above us, trying to buy us time while Skitter kept talking. The first net had been fired from range, but the drones were catching up fast and I was running out of room to maneuver.
"We thought she wouldn't attack us if she knew there were kids! Tattletale had a hunch! Didn't want to test it, but no other choice!"
I propelled us upward as another net flew beneath us, this one close enough to make my hair stand on end before it wrapped itself around a lamp post and bent it twenty degrees. Fuck. She was right. There was no other choice I could think of that would stop Dragon. But wouldn't this make me just as bad as Charlotte always thought I was? Bringing a threat down right on their doorstep? How could I do this?
"Dammit Victoria, we're out of time!" Skitter yelled.
I looked up, and saw that she was right. There was a drone ahead of us, already in position, lining up its net launcher. Shit. The decision was made for me. Like so many lately.
I waited until the last second before ripping us upward through a punishing vertical turn that even I felt. It forced a ragged scream out of Skitter – literally; it pushed the air right out of her lungs past vocal chords left raw from shouting. This time I felt the edge of the net brush against my forcefield, sending tingles all down my left arm. But the drones were close enough that the one behind us got caught in the aborted shot. That might buy us a few extra seconds.
We'd need it.
We cleared the top of the drone ahead of us with a small enough margin that the tip of my foot smacked into it, sending it reeling downward, and shot straight north towards Skitter's base. I could hear the Dragonsuit re-engage as we left the downtown skyline, but for once, time and momentum were on our side. She was too far back, and couldn't accelerate fast enough to catch us before we made it to the base. The only question was whether we could avoid the drones for long enough to get there.
Skitter read my mind, leaning up to my ear. "Go in through the roof, punch a hole if you have to!" she ordered. "Top floor's empty! I'll cover us visually for as long as I can!"
I nodded, accelerating forward as fast as I dared. At this speed, a sudden stop like earlier might give Skitter whiplash. But we couldn't afford safety now. Not with the whine of the drones close on our heels.
We were almost there. I could see the roof entrance of the hideout, where I had deposited a badly wounded Skitter what felt like years ago. She'd needed medical attention then, and if she needed it now from how I'd been throwing her around we were fucked, but that was a problem for later. For now we just had to get inside.
As we approached, I started to slow down. I had to; if we hit at this speed I'd kill my passenger. Skitter must have sensed the shift, because every remaining bug that had survived the chase so far flew off us in a massive wave, filling the sky behind us in a black cloud of sound and writhing tendrils.
Maybe it was the tiny bit of extra speed I gained from the lost weight. Maybe it was her bugs confusing the targeting sensors. Maybe it was the ever so slightly sleeker aerodynamic profile. But whatever it was, we made it to the door to the roof entrance before the drones above could take another shot. I turned us round as the roof rushed towards us, cradling Skitter in my arms, my back facing the door. I just had to hope that my forcefield would be enough to–
Impact.
My forcefield broke instantly, turning the door into matchwood. I threw on the brakes as hard as I could and gasped as Skitter's inertia hit my ribs like a sandbag thrown from a car. Even the full force of my flight wasn't enough to stop us, but it did enough that we only slammed into the concrete wall at the speed of a dead sprint, instead of pancaking ourselves across it. Crushed between Skitter and the unforgiving surface, all my breath escaped me in a wheezing gasp, and we bounced off the wall with the wind knocked out of both of us.
My head was ringing. My heart was pounding triple-time against my ribs. My back was one solid bruise, and my chest felt like it was on fire. My arms and fingers ached something fierce from where I had been clutching Skitter, and my neck felt like it was permanently skewed from how she'd been clutching me. I must have taken at least three years off of my life in as many minutes.
But we'd made it.
As I helplessly coughed and sputtered and gasped for air, my forcefield snapped back into shape around me. Still wheezing and gulping oxygen, I started to laugh; a hacking chuckle that Skitter joined in from where she was doing the same on top of me.
God damn. That had really happened.
My lungs eased up slowly as I got my breath back, but the hysterical giggles only got harder and harder, until I was crying from the delayed fear and stress and exertion. I couldn't tell what Skitter was doing behind the mask, but it sounded more like laughter than tears. We clung to each other for a long moment as our hysterics rose, crested, and then slowly subsided, leaving us panting for breath, slowly realizing our position.
We couldn't have been any closer if we'd tried. She was plastered half on top of me, half fallen off to one side, her bad shoulder limp across my chest. Her wind-strewn hair fell down to one side of our faces in a tangled black curtain, and our faces were so close together that we were almost forehead to forehead. This close, in the mix of sunlight and shadow flooding in through the broken door, I almost thought I could make out the faintest shape of an eyebrow and eye through the yellow lens. Entranced, I started to bring my hand up, and–
"Boss!"
We both jerked hard enough to throw Skitter off me, and looked up to see Charlotte falling over herself to get through the door. "Boss, what happened?"
"Dragon," Skitter grunted, slowly pushing herself upright. I caught her good arm hand before she could stumble and surreptitiously helped push her upright under the guise of letting her pull me up. "We tried to avoid her. No dice. Came back here. Hopefully that–"
She cut herself off as the dreaded turbine whine approached. I spun towards the shattered doorframe. Goddammit, no! We'd made it! We were home! This wasn't fair!
Stepping up beside Skitter, we cautiously made our way over to the window. And sure enough, there was Dragon, landing on the roof of the building across the street, looking dead at us. The tiles shook as she set down, engines shutting off and folding away to be replaced by claws and canons.
She shook herself, almost like a living thing – ruffled her feathers, if that was the right way to describe it – and then the noise ceased entirely and she settled down. Watching us with reptilian patience.
That's when it occurred to me what had really just happened.
Dragon had just landed in front of Skitter's base. And she wasn't leaving.
A/N:
Aleph refused to let this one die, it just kept getting longer. At least y'all get to (sort of) see how I write action now. Was that exciting? I sure hope so because I hate writing these things lmao.
I have no concept of shame and regret nothing. ~Aleph
I'm seriously excited for what comes next in the fic, we're getting into some of the (personally speaking) more interesting and nuanced personal interactions. Don't worry, I'm sure Dragon keeping Skitter and Victoria trapped in a house will do wonders for their friendship. Trust me.
Today's recommendation, in honor of the titular character, is Chain by Truebeasts on Ao3. A fic about Colin and Dragon which unironically made me root for a straight couple. I could say something else, but that really says all you need to know. Go read it.
Just gonna point out that a couple comprised of a trans-identifying gynoid and a probably-bisexual-going-on-vibes-alone literal transhuman might be heterosexual but doesn't qualify as straight. Queer rep represent! ~ Aleph
Fight me.
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Cloak&Dagger
Definitely Insane
RIP Dragon
The USS Punchbuggy is about to set sail.
Dragon: That's right. Everyone just keep your eyes on the big obvious dragon mech hanging out in public. I definitely couldn't still get them. They touched home base so there's nothing I can do but wait. There are no ulterior plans going on in the background.
Technically speaking, I liked the writing during the chase sequence. It all moved very quickly but legibly, and felt very dynamic. Victoria hasn't really had much of a chance to stretch her powers so far, so it was nice to see her get to really cut loose in a fight in a big way that Taylor can't. With the added bonus of princess carrying Skitter again.
Technically speaking, I liked the writing during the chase sequence. It all moved very quickly but legibly, and felt very dynamic. Victoria hasn't really had much of a chance to stretch her powers so far, so it was nice to see her get to really cut loose in a fight in a big way that Taylor can't. With the added bonus of princess carrying Skitter again.
That was the most exciting "air battle" I've read in a long while! I was on pins until they made it back to Skitter's hideout. Awesome writing!
- Location
- The Internet?
Great action update! I think I almost got car sick reading the spinning about, and I was just sitting at home! 
But that's a good thing! You were really conveying the details, like @tonygestaple was saying!
smaster was the one recreating Clockblocker Tech. Besides everyone knows Dragon is a 10 out of 10, she would turn on a dime.
Now this is podracing!
What a roller coaster of emotion!
(Quote trimmed down for humor, some ellipses are mine)
DIY skylight hole in the ceiling... what is she thinking before they give an explanation? And also throwing Skitter off of her like that? Vicky, you're super strong and that could have done more damage than the chaotic flight! I hope she's okay.
But that's a good thing! You were really conveying the details, like @tonygestaple was saying!I'm sure that'll last. /s Also she's thinking of Dragon as an enemy combatant in the moment. One of us, one of us, one of us!
No no, Arm
Interdepartmental Guild memo: Dragon is no longer allowed to participate in Twister night.
What a roller coaster of emotion!
(Quote trimmed down for humor, some ellipses are mine)
Taylor, I know you're trying not to sound like a terrorist but that's the kind of thing a terrorist would say.
No Ballistic has his territory in Dolltown, not downtow- ooh. Got it.
If you think that's bad, wait till you see Taylor's hair!
I know she's called Fragile One but I think she'll be fine, Vic- oh wait you meant Skitter.
Oddly specific simile, Cat, just what are you and Aleph getting up to in your free time that you can make these wonderous images come to life so vividly? Also, "My name's Glory Girl and Welcome to Jackass" is definitely the sort of quality programming we need. What sort of program do you think Jackass is in a world with powers? And Mythbusters? Gosh, is it Capebusters in Bet, because that would have different connotations in say, a Marvel property.
Kiss, kiss, ki-- gosh darn it, Charlotte! Also Charlotte just sees her boss lying on top of that pesky house guest with a
I mean, that's the rules! Exhibits A and B, your honor.
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Oh come on did you really think I was gonna give that to you guys that easy? They haven't even unmasked yet! Nah, y'all have got a long, angsty way's to go :3
- Location
- The Internet?
Excuse you, one of them is full-on mask-off cape geeking all the time.
But what I mean is that Vicky's an open cape, she doesn't mask, which is funny because Charlotte and
Binary 3.10
It had been twenty minutes since the Dragonsuit had settled down on the rooftop across from us like a tiger lounging outside a rabbit hole. If there'd been any doubts that it was here to stay, they were gone now. Skitter had tried to swarm it exactly once.
In response, it had fired a confoam grenade on a perfect arc clean through Skitter's window, engulfing the table and most of her bookshelf in a massive lump of sticky foam. It blocked off half the room, leaving only a narrow path past the shattered window, exposed to the looming dragon's gaze, between the stairs and her bed and planning board.
We hadn't tried attacking it again. The statement was clear. The walls would provide no more protection than the plywood over the window had, and Skitter's bugs couldn't move faster than a dozen grenades.
So that was the end of that.
The suit gleamed in the waning afternoon light. Despite the chase we'd put her through, the suit looked untouched, without so much as a mar on the varnish. You could've told me it was brand new, and I'd have believed it.
A shudder crawled up my spine. I'd known Dragon was powerful. Of course I had. You'd have to be an idiot not to. You didn't get to maintain the Birdcage and be the logistics and coordination lead for Endbringer attacks without being good at your job.
But there was a difference between knowing something and staring straight down its gun barrel.
My ribs still twinged from the tight turns and sudden dives I'd had to take with Skitter, and my hands and fingers were aching from the death grip I'd had on her. She'd bruise tomorrow, I knew. Fingermarks painted in purple along her ribs and thigh, long lines of burst blood vessels on her back and behind her knees where she'd been jarred against arms as yielding as steel bars. My hair was a mess, tangled beyond repair from the sheer speed of the wind around us. I'd flown faster and better today than I had in years, maybe ever.
And none of it mattered. Even in peak form, at the top of my game with Skitter for added bug screening and three dimensional awareness, Dragon had kicked my ass. There was no way around it. I'd spent what must have been less than ten minutes – maybe less than five – high-tailing it around the city as fast as I could go, not even engaging directly, just trying to get away from her. And this was the best I could get us. A reprieve, until she decided to bust our door down.
My fists clenched as I glared across the street at her, defiantly standing in the shattered window, daring her to fire another round. The thought terrified me. But she could do it no matter where in the house I was, and at least here I could see it coming if she did. At least here, seeing her so shiny and relaxed and still, the seeds of rising fury drowned out the fear. My hands trembled at my sides, shaky and spasming from overexertion and the adrenaline crash.
I hated this. Hated feeling useless. Worthless. Small. I… needed a distraction. My attention was drawn towards the murmuring voices downstairs. I glanced at Skitter. She was over by her planning board, still fiddling with her phone, though for what I couldn't tell.
"Trying to get to any members of the team," she said quietly, still not looking at me. "Tattletale isn't picking up, which worries me. Bitch and Regent didn't answer, but they never do. Grue is out, but that could mean anything. Go off and do something else if you want."
I threw one more resentful glance at the mockingly patient machine, nodded curtly and walked downstairs. But before I got to the entrance, I stopped on the upper landing. The words from down below became more distinct.
"It's going to be fine," Charlotte was saying. "We have this handled."
"How could you have this 'handled'?" someone asked. Young, female. "It's right outside!"
"I know it is," Charlotte said, strain evident in her voice. "But there's a reason why it hasn't come in yet, right?"
"Yeah, because it wants to wait until we're all asleep. Then it'll kick the door down," someone muttered. Older, male.
"I understand that you guys are worried, I do," said Sierra. Her voice was warmer, gentler than Charlotte's. "But you… you have to trust that we have your best interests in mind here. No one wants you to get hurt, okay?"
"I want to go home." A voice from farther back. Soft. Quiet.
There was silence for a moment.
"I know sweetie." Sierra was talking again. "I know. We're g-gonna do our best, okay?"
I blinked the wetness out of my eyes, and slowly pulled back into the stairwell. My heart was pounding in my chest. I could hear the pulse in my ears and taste bile at the back of my throat.
Fuck.
I knew Dragon wouldn't do anything truly reprehensible. I was sure of of it, if only because the entire world was fucked if she ever went Villain. But… these kids didn't know that. They had no way of knowing the complicated shades of gray in what Skitter had done, the crimes she'd committed and the people she'd hurt and the lines she'd crossed to lead them to this point. They just saw the person who saved them, who gave them food and water, who'd– who'd found them after the worst experience of their lives and offered them shelter and asked nothing in return.
Now she was being threatened in her own home by a scary metal monster. How could they not sympathize?
I swallowed down a dry throat. Who was I kidding? How could I not sympathize? She had done the same thing for me, and I knew it. It was spur of the moment, but I was the one who'd chosen to fly her away, who'd tried to outfly Dragon rather than surrender.
What was it I'd said to Skitter? "Is it the correct choice, or just the choice you made?" My own words felt entirely too close to the mark as they echoed in memory.
But no matter how many doubts I went over, no matter how many circles my mind ran, in the end it came down to those kids. To that quiet girl, in the back corner, wanting to go home. However much I believed Dragon would do the right thing… right now that thing was scaring a group of orphaned children and threatening their home.
I could see it from her perspective, if I tried. I knew what she'd say; that it was Skitter using them as hostages, that Skitter was the one who'd dragged them into this. But I'd seen how gentle Skitter was with them. I couldn't agree.
I heard footsteps from the bottom of the stairwell and instinctively backed up into the wall behind me. I turned to head back up, but Charlotte had already noticed me.
I looked down at her and tried not to let my reaction show. She looked both older and younger than I'd ever seen her. Older because she was clearly trying to put a brave face on in a shitty situation. Her mouth was tense, her jaw firm even as she caught my eye, as if daring me to say anything. The set of her shoulders looked ready for a fistfight. I couldn't blame her, after that conversation.
But her eyes. Her eyes told the real story. Even with the domino mask hiding part of her face, she was so young. I didn't know where Skitter had found her, and after the conversation I'd had with her earlier I wasn't about to ask, but she couldn't have been any older than I was.
What would it be like to be in her place? Not even out of highschool, cut off from everything she'd ever known, subjected to massive trauma and then told to take care of at least ten kids half her age? I think I'd have a nervous breakdown. And yet, here she was.
"What?" she said, sticking out her chin. "You have a problem?"
I shook my head. My hands went to sign, but by the look in her eyes she wouldn't be able to understand anyways. And my book was upstairs. I held in a sigh. For the umpteenth time, I wished I could speak. To tell her that even if I didn't understand the struggle she was facing right now, I at least thought she was doing the right thing. The hard thing. Even if it didn't feel like it.
She brushed past me, and I let my trembling hands fall uselessly back to my sides. Oh well. Maybe I'd be able to tell her next time we talked.
Assuming we got the chance.
"Tattletale!" Skitter said, just as I reentered the third floor. "Where were you?"
"Ugh, quit shouting," came the Villain's voice on speaker from the phone Skitter was holding. "My power is giving me enough of a headache already. Is Victoria there? Yes? Great, at least I don't need to say this twice."
I gave Skitter a nod as I edged around the mound of foam and past the window, eying the Dragonsuit as I went. It still sat exactly where it had landed, not a single panel out of place, like it had all the time in the world. Swallowing, I walked over to Skitter's bed and gingerly sat down on the end, facing her desk.
"Where's the rest of the team?" Skitter asked, leaning forward and propping her good arm on one knee, holding the phone up as though she was interrogating it.
"I don't know."
The bugs on the walls wheeled and danced in a great geometric mandala, their patterns almost dizzying in their complexity. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly level.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Easy easy," Tattletale said, somehow sensing the warning signs despite not being able to see us. "I was going to say I don't know for sure. They're not on comms yet. That could be a variety of factors. Dead. Captured. Gone to ground. No battery. Out of cell service. Etc. I can't say which one of those it is for sure. But you don't have to be a Thinker to make something out of the Dragonsuit sitting right outside of my base."
This time there was only silence on our end.
Tattletale sighed. "You guys too huh? No, don't answer that, don't bother. Then we should probably assume the worst until they call to check in. Speaking of which, you know the drill; she's definitely monitoring this call. Hi Dragon! You never got back to us after our last chat. You can hurt a girl's feelings like that, you know! At least send a text or something. How 'bout it, got anything else to say now?"
Silence. I honestly wasn't sure if that was better or worse than Dragon's voice would have been. The thought of talking to her so soon after that narrow escape was spine-chilling, but the utter silence from the phone speaker was just as eerie in its own way.
Tattletale either wasn't affected or hid it well. She scoffed. "Might be trying to lull us into letting our guards down. Don't. Assume anything over the phone is compromised. Think before you speak. Use a fresh code with every conversation - I'll bet she can mimic voices. Speaking of which, B-tomato?"
"N-chilli. Got it."
That was the third time I'd heard the code, and the second time I heard the response. Both call and response were a letter followed by a fruit. I was pretty sure each letter had only one correct response, though I hadn't heard enough to figure out the pattern.
The fruit, though. What did that mean? I'd heard Tattletale and Skitter both use banana with different letters; Tattletale when Skitter had pulled her in to look at me on that first awful day, Skitter after she'd been shot at Parian's. But Skitter had used... pear? Apple? Pear, I was pretty sure, back on the first day. And now they'd used tomato and chilli.
Not enough information to work it out. Yet. I'd crack it eventually. In the meantime, I tried not to fidget. It was a bad habit I'd had to break when I triggered and suddenly discovered that "scratching at the table" meant "peeling off the hardwood finish".
"How many are there?" Skitter asked.
There was a hum across the line. "I don't know. But it would be a pretty safe bet to assume it's one for each of us, until we know for sure. Safer to plan for that. The question is why she's waiting. How did they find you guys?"
Skitter looked at me. "We were caught out in the open. Presumably our location was leaked elsewhere. Victoria had to fly me; we couldn't shake her. Ended up coming in through the roof. We weren't exactly subtle."
Tattletale sighed. "You can't keep doing this, you know."
The droning chorus of the swarm stopped its lilting hum. "Doing what?"
"You know what I mean. You were told to lay low; we specifically all agreed on this plan right after the meeting last time. Yet here you are, out in the open, facing down the heroes. For her."
I couldn't meet Skitter's eyes. She was right, much as I hated to admit it. I'd known I was asking Skitter for a lot with that meeting. Hell, she'd called me out on it right before we went! But… I couldn't bring myself not to ask her, in the end. And I think we both knew it.
I was glad I'd had her there, too. That much I had to be honest about. If I'd been all alone after those Heroes left, and Dragon came… I don't know if I would've chosen to try and outrun her myself. Even if it meant getting captured. Even if it meant going back to my family and… her. Dragon was just such a paragon of a Hero, always doing the right thing no matter how hard the task, that it took some effort to even consider acting against her directly. I was glad I had Skitter to do that. I didn't like the headspace that put me in. But I liked the alternative even less.
Skitter's fingers tightened around the phone, lines of tension running all the way up her arm. "That's not your choice to make, Tattletale. If the people in my territory need help, then they get it. You would do the same."
"I would, would I?" she laughed. "Sure. Sure, let's go with that."
"Tattletale–"
"I'll let you have your win, Skitter, be happy with that. We're getting distracted anyways. How are you over there?"
Skitter glanced at me. Her posture was rigid. Was I making her nervous? But, she was the one who'd very obviously let me into the room earlier. The door was wide open, and even Tattletale had said she didn't want to repeat herself.
Ugh. This girl was so confusing.
"Charlotte's calmed most of the kids down, for now. But some of them were caught outside. Not sure how to deal with that yet. Other than that, Dragon is right outside. She's already shown she's willing to shoot through the walls; got my bookshelf with a warning shot when I started gathering a swarm on her. I'd bet every last bug I have that she has heat vision at the very least. If any of us takes a step outside, we're fucked. Beyond that, we're stuck."
I swallowed, trying to very deliberately control my breathing. I wasn't trapped here. I wasn't. I was with Skitter, someone who'd already been willing to throw down against people on my behalf. Focus on that.
"Maybe not necessarily," Tattletale hummed. "What other options do we have?"
"If you're trying to obliquely hint at the sewers, I already checked," Skitter said bleakly. "Every manhole on the block has a sticky mass blocking off the tunnel underneath it. There's no way out for anything bigger than a cat."
There was a brief pause as Tattletale and I both digested that.
"Huh," said Tattletale after a moment's thought. "Fuck. Okay. Must've been... what, remote drones? Something small that can carry a few grenades and lift manholes, dropping one down every large drain shaft while we were focused on the big flashy suits. Wouldn't have been hard for her to get the schematics of the sewer system." She fell silent again with a huff, and sounded annoyed when she spoke back up. "Fine, okay, whatever. Then there must be some reason why she hasn't attacked yet. Maybe the refugee angle actually worked?"
I doubted Dragon would be stopped by hostages if it mattered. But maybe it didn't. Maybe she felt so in-control here, so completely unthreatened, that she could afford to take her time and capture us with as little risk to the kids as possible.
Maybe Tattletale's hostage threat wasn't hamstringing her at all. Maybe this was her deciding to play nice. Waiting for us to get hungry and tired. Waiting for us to crawl out of our hole to where she could bring us in gently, with minimum force and no risk of traumatizing the kids any more than they already had been. Waiting politely outside our door until we realized how pointless resistance was.
A shudder ran up my spine, and I wrapped my arms around myself protectively.
"Maybe," Skitter allowed, drawing my thoughts back to the present.
"Then what would that mean for anyone not directly involved?" Tattletale asked. "Would she… I doubt the PRT would be willing to go through the logistical nightmare of nabbing civilians in broad daylight the second they come out of their homes. Once during a cape fight, sure. But long term it's not a good look. And they have to know we'd have cameras somewhere. Too much of a logistical risk. So long as we don't go out, it should be fine. Right?"
Silence. If Dragon was listening in, she didn't seem to feel like sharing. I stayed quiet too, but my face hardened. Was that really enough to bet on? These were people's lives. Sure, containment foam was supposed to be nonlethal. And in the vast majority of cases it was. It expanded rapidly, hardened in midair, and was breathable. A miracle of an invention. But it wasn't perfect. If the liquid expanded too quickly and hardened while inside of someone's mouth or god forbid their lungs–well, the PRT had found out the hard way in a court case a while back. I remember Carol yelling about that at the time. Not to mention how unwilling the Protectorate had been to give Skitter any benefit of the doubt. Would they treat people who'd been living in her territory fairly, if Dragon delivered them like criminals? I doubted it.
Skitter seemed to agree, judging by the way the hornets were circling and diving at each other over my head. "I can't risk that, Tattletale. These are my people. If I'm seen to be abandoning them, it would be a loss of reputation I couldn't handle. Not when we're this close. You need to–"
The phone buzzed, the notification for another incoming call appearing on the screen. It was from a blocked number. For a second, I froze and looked up at Skitter. Was it Dragon? Had she decided to talk to us after all?
Skitter looked back, and signed the one word that could make the situation even worse than it already was.
"Coil."
A/N:
Not much to say here to be honest, other than the usual "yeah, Dragon is pretty scary when she takes the gloves off. A lot of set up for the rest of the arc, and things are gonna be interesting from here. How long can they hold out? What is Dragon's long term endgame? Will I ever answer the questions I leave at the end of every chapter?
…so anyways today's rec is Scars of Silence by the lovely Katarina Winters (as promised). This fic is (at risk of nuking my own thread) Silencio done right. Which is to say Nazis are punched, the gang is queer and angry, and Taylor's trigger is treated as an actual disability. It recently got a new chapter after more than a yearbecause I yelled loudly enough, so now all of you get to crowdsource more chapters. Go forth, my pretties.
In response, it had fired a confoam grenade on a perfect arc clean through Skitter's window, engulfing the table and most of her bookshelf in a massive lump of sticky foam. It blocked off half the room, leaving only a narrow path past the shattered window, exposed to the looming dragon's gaze, between the stairs and her bed and planning board.
We hadn't tried attacking it again. The statement was clear. The walls would provide no more protection than the plywood over the window had, and Skitter's bugs couldn't move faster than a dozen grenades.
So that was the end of that.
The suit gleamed in the waning afternoon light. Despite the chase we'd put her through, the suit looked untouched, without so much as a mar on the varnish. You could've told me it was brand new, and I'd have believed it.
A shudder crawled up my spine. I'd known Dragon was powerful. Of course I had. You'd have to be an idiot not to. You didn't get to maintain the Birdcage and be the logistics and coordination lead for Endbringer attacks without being good at your job.
But there was a difference between knowing something and staring straight down its gun barrel.
My ribs still twinged from the tight turns and sudden dives I'd had to take with Skitter, and my hands and fingers were aching from the death grip I'd had on her. She'd bruise tomorrow, I knew. Fingermarks painted in purple along her ribs and thigh, long lines of burst blood vessels on her back and behind her knees where she'd been jarred against arms as yielding as steel bars. My hair was a mess, tangled beyond repair from the sheer speed of the wind around us. I'd flown faster and better today than I had in years, maybe ever.
And none of it mattered. Even in peak form, at the top of my game with Skitter for added bug screening and three dimensional awareness, Dragon had kicked my ass. There was no way around it. I'd spent what must have been less than ten minutes – maybe less than five – high-tailing it around the city as fast as I could go, not even engaging directly, just trying to get away from her. And this was the best I could get us. A reprieve, until she decided to bust our door down.
My fists clenched as I glared across the street at her, defiantly standing in the shattered window, daring her to fire another round. The thought terrified me. But she could do it no matter where in the house I was, and at least here I could see it coming if she did. At least here, seeing her so shiny and relaxed and still, the seeds of rising fury drowned out the fear. My hands trembled at my sides, shaky and spasming from overexertion and the adrenaline crash.
I hated this. Hated feeling useless. Worthless. Small. I… needed a distraction. My attention was drawn towards the murmuring voices downstairs. I glanced at Skitter. She was over by her planning board, still fiddling with her phone, though for what I couldn't tell.
"Trying to get to any members of the team," she said quietly, still not looking at me. "Tattletale isn't picking up, which worries me. Bitch and Regent didn't answer, but they never do. Grue is out, but that could mean anything. Go off and do something else if you want."
I threw one more resentful glance at the mockingly patient machine, nodded curtly and walked downstairs. But before I got to the entrance, I stopped on the upper landing. The words from down below became more distinct.
"It's going to be fine," Charlotte was saying. "We have this handled."
"How could you have this 'handled'?" someone asked. Young, female. "It's right outside!"
"I know it is," Charlotte said, strain evident in her voice. "But there's a reason why it hasn't come in yet, right?"
"Yeah, because it wants to wait until we're all asleep. Then it'll kick the door down," someone muttered. Older, male.
"I understand that you guys are worried, I do," said Sierra. Her voice was warmer, gentler than Charlotte's. "But you… you have to trust that we have your best interests in mind here. No one wants you to get hurt, okay?"
"I want to go home." A voice from farther back. Soft. Quiet.
There was silence for a moment.
"I know sweetie." Sierra was talking again. "I know. We're g-gonna do our best, okay?"
I blinked the wetness out of my eyes, and slowly pulled back into the stairwell. My heart was pounding in my chest. I could hear the pulse in my ears and taste bile at the back of my throat.
Fuck.
I knew Dragon wouldn't do anything truly reprehensible. I was sure of of it, if only because the entire world was fucked if she ever went Villain. But… these kids didn't know that. They had no way of knowing the complicated shades of gray in what Skitter had done, the crimes she'd committed and the people she'd hurt and the lines she'd crossed to lead them to this point. They just saw the person who saved them, who gave them food and water, who'd– who'd found them after the worst experience of their lives and offered them shelter and asked nothing in return.
Now she was being threatened in her own home by a scary metal monster. How could they not sympathize?
I swallowed down a dry throat. Who was I kidding? How could I not sympathize? She had done the same thing for me, and I knew it. It was spur of the moment, but I was the one who'd chosen to fly her away, who'd tried to outfly Dragon rather than surrender.
What was it I'd said to Skitter? "Is it the correct choice, or just the choice you made?" My own words felt entirely too close to the mark as they echoed in memory.
But no matter how many doubts I went over, no matter how many circles my mind ran, in the end it came down to those kids. To that quiet girl, in the back corner, wanting to go home. However much I believed Dragon would do the right thing… right now that thing was scaring a group of orphaned children and threatening their home.
I could see it from her perspective, if I tried. I knew what she'd say; that it was Skitter using them as hostages, that Skitter was the one who'd dragged them into this. But I'd seen how gentle Skitter was with them. I couldn't agree.
I heard footsteps from the bottom of the stairwell and instinctively backed up into the wall behind me. I turned to head back up, but Charlotte had already noticed me.
I looked down at her and tried not to let my reaction show. She looked both older and younger than I'd ever seen her. Older because she was clearly trying to put a brave face on in a shitty situation. Her mouth was tense, her jaw firm even as she caught my eye, as if daring me to say anything. The set of her shoulders looked ready for a fistfight. I couldn't blame her, after that conversation.
But her eyes. Her eyes told the real story. Even with the domino mask hiding part of her face, she was so young. I didn't know where Skitter had found her, and after the conversation I'd had with her earlier I wasn't about to ask, but she couldn't have been any older than I was.
What would it be like to be in her place? Not even out of highschool, cut off from everything she'd ever known, subjected to massive trauma and then told to take care of at least ten kids half her age? I think I'd have a nervous breakdown. And yet, here she was.
"What?" she said, sticking out her chin. "You have a problem?"
I shook my head. My hands went to sign, but by the look in her eyes she wouldn't be able to understand anyways. And my book was upstairs. I held in a sigh. For the umpteenth time, I wished I could speak. To tell her that even if I didn't understand the struggle she was facing right now, I at least thought she was doing the right thing. The hard thing. Even if it didn't feel like it.
She brushed past me, and I let my trembling hands fall uselessly back to my sides. Oh well. Maybe I'd be able to tell her next time we talked.
Assuming we got the chance.
"Tattletale!" Skitter said, just as I reentered the third floor. "Where were you?"
"Ugh, quit shouting," came the Villain's voice on speaker from the phone Skitter was holding. "My power is giving me enough of a headache already. Is Victoria there? Yes? Great, at least I don't need to say this twice."
I gave Skitter a nod as I edged around the mound of foam and past the window, eying the Dragonsuit as I went. It still sat exactly where it had landed, not a single panel out of place, like it had all the time in the world. Swallowing, I walked over to Skitter's bed and gingerly sat down on the end, facing her desk.
"Where's the rest of the team?" Skitter asked, leaning forward and propping her good arm on one knee, holding the phone up as though she was interrogating it.
"I don't know."
The bugs on the walls wheeled and danced in a great geometric mandala, their patterns almost dizzying in their complexity. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly level.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Easy easy," Tattletale said, somehow sensing the warning signs despite not being able to see us. "I was going to say I don't know for sure. They're not on comms yet. That could be a variety of factors. Dead. Captured. Gone to ground. No battery. Out of cell service. Etc. I can't say which one of those it is for sure. But you don't have to be a Thinker to make something out of the Dragonsuit sitting right outside of my base."
This time there was only silence on our end.
Tattletale sighed. "You guys too huh? No, don't answer that, don't bother. Then we should probably assume the worst until they call to check in. Speaking of which, you know the drill; she's definitely monitoring this call. Hi Dragon! You never got back to us after our last chat. You can hurt a girl's feelings like that, you know! At least send a text or something. How 'bout it, got anything else to say now?"
Silence. I honestly wasn't sure if that was better or worse than Dragon's voice would have been. The thought of talking to her so soon after that narrow escape was spine-chilling, but the utter silence from the phone speaker was just as eerie in its own way.
Tattletale either wasn't affected or hid it well. She scoffed. "Might be trying to lull us into letting our guards down. Don't. Assume anything over the phone is compromised. Think before you speak. Use a fresh code with every conversation - I'll bet she can mimic voices. Speaking of which, B-tomato?"
"N-chilli. Got it."
That was the third time I'd heard the code, and the second time I heard the response. Both call and response were a letter followed by a fruit. I was pretty sure each letter had only one correct response, though I hadn't heard enough to figure out the pattern.
The fruit, though. What did that mean? I'd heard Tattletale and Skitter both use banana with different letters; Tattletale when Skitter had pulled her in to look at me on that first awful day, Skitter after she'd been shot at Parian's. But Skitter had used... pear? Apple? Pear, I was pretty sure, back on the first day. And now they'd used tomato and chilli.
Not enough information to work it out. Yet. I'd crack it eventually. In the meantime, I tried not to fidget. It was a bad habit I'd had to break when I triggered and suddenly discovered that "scratching at the table" meant "peeling off the hardwood finish".
"How many are there?" Skitter asked.
There was a hum across the line. "I don't know. But it would be a pretty safe bet to assume it's one for each of us, until we know for sure. Safer to plan for that. The question is why she's waiting. How did they find you guys?"
Skitter looked at me. "We were caught out in the open. Presumably our location was leaked elsewhere. Victoria had to fly me; we couldn't shake her. Ended up coming in through the roof. We weren't exactly subtle."
Tattletale sighed. "You can't keep doing this, you know."
The droning chorus of the swarm stopped its lilting hum. "Doing what?"
"You know what I mean. You were told to lay low; we specifically all agreed on this plan right after the meeting last time. Yet here you are, out in the open, facing down the heroes. For her."
I couldn't meet Skitter's eyes. She was right, much as I hated to admit it. I'd known I was asking Skitter for a lot with that meeting. Hell, she'd called me out on it right before we went! But… I couldn't bring myself not to ask her, in the end. And I think we both knew it.
I was glad I'd had her there, too. That much I had to be honest about. If I'd been all alone after those Heroes left, and Dragon came… I don't know if I would've chosen to try and outrun her myself. Even if it meant getting captured. Even if it meant going back to my family and… her. Dragon was just such a paragon of a Hero, always doing the right thing no matter how hard the task, that it took some effort to even consider acting against her directly. I was glad I had Skitter to do that. I didn't like the headspace that put me in. But I liked the alternative even less.
Skitter's fingers tightened around the phone, lines of tension running all the way up her arm. "That's not your choice to make, Tattletale. If the people in my territory need help, then they get it. You would do the same."
"I would, would I?" she laughed. "Sure. Sure, let's go with that."
"Tattletale–"
"I'll let you have your win, Skitter, be happy with that. We're getting distracted anyways. How are you over there?"
Skitter glanced at me. Her posture was rigid. Was I making her nervous? But, she was the one who'd very obviously let me into the room earlier. The door was wide open, and even Tattletale had said she didn't want to repeat herself.
Ugh. This girl was so confusing.
"Charlotte's calmed most of the kids down, for now. But some of them were caught outside. Not sure how to deal with that yet. Other than that, Dragon is right outside. She's already shown she's willing to shoot through the walls; got my bookshelf with a warning shot when I started gathering a swarm on her. I'd bet every last bug I have that she has heat vision at the very least. If any of us takes a step outside, we're fucked. Beyond that, we're stuck."
I swallowed, trying to very deliberately control my breathing. I wasn't trapped here. I wasn't. I was with Skitter, someone who'd already been willing to throw down against people on my behalf. Focus on that.
"Maybe not necessarily," Tattletale hummed. "What other options do we have?"
"If you're trying to obliquely hint at the sewers, I already checked," Skitter said bleakly. "Every manhole on the block has a sticky mass blocking off the tunnel underneath it. There's no way out for anything bigger than a cat."
There was a brief pause as Tattletale and I both digested that.
"Huh," said Tattletale after a moment's thought. "Fuck. Okay. Must've been... what, remote drones? Something small that can carry a few grenades and lift manholes, dropping one down every large drain shaft while we were focused on the big flashy suits. Wouldn't have been hard for her to get the schematics of the sewer system." She fell silent again with a huff, and sounded annoyed when she spoke back up. "Fine, okay, whatever. Then there must be some reason why she hasn't attacked yet. Maybe the refugee angle actually worked?"
I doubted Dragon would be stopped by hostages if it mattered. But maybe it didn't. Maybe she felt so in-control here, so completely unthreatened, that she could afford to take her time and capture us with as little risk to the kids as possible.
Maybe Tattletale's hostage threat wasn't hamstringing her at all. Maybe this was her deciding to play nice. Waiting for us to get hungry and tired. Waiting for us to crawl out of our hole to where she could bring us in gently, with minimum force and no risk of traumatizing the kids any more than they already had been. Waiting politely outside our door until we realized how pointless resistance was.
A shudder ran up my spine, and I wrapped my arms around myself protectively.
"Maybe," Skitter allowed, drawing my thoughts back to the present.
"Then what would that mean for anyone not directly involved?" Tattletale asked. "Would she… I doubt the PRT would be willing to go through the logistical nightmare of nabbing civilians in broad daylight the second they come out of their homes. Once during a cape fight, sure. But long term it's not a good look. And they have to know we'd have cameras somewhere. Too much of a logistical risk. So long as we don't go out, it should be fine. Right?"
Silence. If Dragon was listening in, she didn't seem to feel like sharing. I stayed quiet too, but my face hardened. Was that really enough to bet on? These were people's lives. Sure, containment foam was supposed to be nonlethal. And in the vast majority of cases it was. It expanded rapidly, hardened in midair, and was breathable. A miracle of an invention. But it wasn't perfect. If the liquid expanded too quickly and hardened while inside of someone's mouth or god forbid their lungs–well, the PRT had found out the hard way in a court case a while back. I remember Carol yelling about that at the time. Not to mention how unwilling the Protectorate had been to give Skitter any benefit of the doubt. Would they treat people who'd been living in her territory fairly, if Dragon delivered them like criminals? I doubted it.
Skitter seemed to agree, judging by the way the hornets were circling and diving at each other over my head. "I can't risk that, Tattletale. These are my people. If I'm seen to be abandoning them, it would be a loss of reputation I couldn't handle. Not when we're this close. You need to–"
The phone buzzed, the notification for another incoming call appearing on the screen. It was from a blocked number. For a second, I froze and looked up at Skitter. Was it Dragon? Had she decided to talk to us after all?
Skitter looked back, and signed the one word that could make the situation even worse than it already was.
"Coil."
A/N:
Not much to say here to be honest, other than the usual "yeah, Dragon is pretty scary when she takes the gloves off. A lot of set up for the rest of the arc, and things are gonna be interesting from here. How long can they hold out? What is Dragon's long term endgame? Will I ever answer the questions I leave at the end of every chapter?
…so anyways today's rec is Scars of Silence by the lovely Katarina Winters (as promised). This fic is (at risk of nuking my own thread) Silencio done right. Which is to say Nazis are punched, the gang is queer and angry, and Taylor's trigger is treated as an actual disability. It recently got a new chapter after more than a year
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Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
Well then...I wonder what Dragon is going to hear when Coil starts talking. The man had resources, but I don't think he can overcome Dragon's hacking skills.
...Unless he gets in contact with the Dragonslayers.
...Unless he gets in contact with the Dragonslayers.
- Location
- The Internet?
It's not quite so action-y as the last update, but it's definitely a good exercise in ratcheting up the tension, cranking up the simmering paranoia and worry to just under a boil. The Undersiders definitely had a better showing against the big bad Dragon in canon, but then again, they were all together and could synergize off each other in that end, plus they'd had the initiative, right? Attacking, and not being put on the defensive?
linens and things minions and things. They went to the mall.
fellow humans gal pals like big, dramatic gestures. She showed up to pick you up outside your house and she even wore a brand new suit! Sure, her shiny metal corsages for you could use some work, but at least they match for both wrists. Besides, you ran away from home at a young-ish age, this might be your last, best chance for a prom-posal! Plus, she's like, not biological, (except for like, those meat computers in some of her suits) so you probably don't need to worry about your power giving you the heebie jeebies.
I'm sure everything will be fine.
Nooooo, her stuff!
Her fear has lead to anger, and that anger to hate? I think that makes her stronger? Or is that the Hulk? Either way, I'm sure things are proceeding as Dinah has foreseen.
This might be one of the ways English in general is a silly language, but shouldn't the apostrophe be on the other side of the question mark, hanging out with the end quote?
I mean, not unless someone with a badge or a title told her to. Certainly not!
Well, well... if it isn't the consequences of my own actions.
Victoria, you're dealing with plucky teen villains with attitude in North America. They went where everyone their age goes to get
Victoria, except for the child care, that's entirely your situation. And honestly, Skitter's kinda like a very determined toddler trying to stab electrical outlets with forks at every given opportunity in terms of her propensity for getting up to shenanigans. So really, you might want to start getting worried. Er, more worried.
She didn't text because she learned that
Spoken like a real supervillain. Truly, she is the monster.
I heard from some other cyborgs that it was quite futile, you know.
Hooray! The noose was tightening, and the balance on the block is getting precarious. The cavalry has come just in the nick of time- no, wait, Coil, why are you kicking it out from under them?
I'm sure everything will be fine.
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This could be... potentially very good. If Coil says something that supports what Dragon has already gleaned from listening in. I don't think she's gonna be able to trace him, but getting some evil mastermind laughter on a recorded line is a good start.
I'm feeling like this whole big conspicuous display is the decoy/bait for Coil, just like how the big shiny Power Rangers dragonzord sitting outside was a distraction for the drones working in the background.
That it happens to also enforce what's basically the locked in a room together trope on Skitter and Victoria is just the cherry on top. And wow, Dragon's just staring at Skitter's bed already. Maybe dial that back, Tess.
On the downside... Coil has to know about Victoria at this point, and is probably going to order Skitter to use her as a hostage or something awful. He's definitely pumping the brakes on Skitter's whole benevolent warlord thing, since that's clearly backfired horribly now that Dragon rolled up.
I'm feeling like this whole big conspicuous display is the decoy/bait for Coil, just like how the big shiny Power Rangers dragonzord sitting outside was a distraction for the drones working in the background.
That it happens to also enforce what's basically the locked in a room together trope on Skitter and Victoria is just the cherry on top. And wow, Dragon's just staring at Skitter's bed already. Maybe dial that back, Tess.
On the downside... Coil has to know about Victoria at this point, and is probably going to order Skitter to use her as a hostage or something awful. He's definitely pumping the brakes on Skitter's whole benevolent warlord thing, since that's clearly backfired horribly now that Dragon rolled up.
BTW, I checked that one out over the weekend and I really enjoyed it. Thanks for adding these recs each chapter!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Coil should know how trapped the Undersiders are and that the line is tapped, so I don't see him saying anything incriminating.
Honestly, it would be more frightening if he talked about how he has already saved the rest of the Undersiders and that they are at his base. It would be weird if he didn't know about this attack.
Honestly, it would be more frightening if he talked about how he has already saved the rest of the Undersiders and that they are at his base. It would be weird if he didn't know about this attack.
- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Ooof 3.9 is great!
I love seeing Vicky and Taylor working a combat scene together and the aerial maneuvering was so visceral and dynamic. Could really feel Taylor struggling with those forces. And that last scene! Chefs kiss!
And holy shit but 3.10 is so fucking tense!!! And the scene is SO WELL SET from 3.9 to 10!!!!! I could here the music curs even from how well the tone is portrayed. The WAITING on what Dragon is gonna do next or what she had already done in this case… dang though Dragon is so scary.
I love seeing Vicky and Taylor working a combat scene together and the aerial maneuvering was so visceral and dynamic. Could really feel Taylor struggling with those forces. And that last scene! Chefs kiss!
And holy shit but 3.10 is so fucking tense!!! And the scene is SO WELL SET from 3.9 to 10!!!!! I could here the music curs even from how well the tone is portrayed. The WAITING on what Dragon is gonna do next or what she had already done in this case… dang though Dragon is so scary.
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Binary 3.11
It was like the whole world had gone mute. The phone was lighting up, buzzing in my periphery; I knew it must have been ringing. But it was walled off from me.
"Coil"
I couldn't look away from Skitter's hands, hoping that she had signed something – anything – else. Maybe this was Bitch finding her phone, or Grue trying to get back in contact. Hell, maybe I'd been right the first time and it was Dragon.
But one look at the windows around us told me otherwise. Already Skitter's swarm was closing in, blocking off sightlines, surrounding us as much as possible. She was curling in on herself defensively. I wasn't even sure she noticed she was doing it.
My heart leapt up into my throat, palms clammy and cold, as I turned to look back at the phone. This was the person who had arranged the bank robbery that got me into this whole mess, just to kidnap a twelve year old. The one who'd been behind who knew how many of the events in Brockton Bay's criminal underground in the past few months.
The one who had put a hit out on Skitter.
We had maybe seconds to react before this got suspicious. What were we supposed to do? Why was he calling? I wished I could remember what Skitter had said about Coil exactly; what his goals were, his powers, anything. But it was all a blank. More than that, I was kicking myself now. How many opportunities had I had to ask her myself? I'd thought it was enough for Tattletale to get that information to Dragon, as if that meant I'd never have to deal with him directly. Stupid. You never turn down a source of information on an enemy cape–especially an unknown. What could he–
"Tattletale," Skitter's voice was flat, but I could hear the steel underneath. "Answer. Stall him."
There was a sharp breath over the phone. "Skitter, you know I can't–"
"Just do it," Skitter cut in. "Update him about the Dragonflight. Buy me two minutes."
"...Fine," Tattletale allowed. "But no more than that. And you owe me; you know how his power fucks with my head."
Skitter wasted no time in muting the phone, putting it down on the table and turning to me. "Victoria. You have questions. We have very limited time. Urgent questions only, ask now."
My breath caught in my chest, but I clenched my hands and forced it back out. Later, I would deal with the fact that Skitter had stalled her terrifying criminal mastermind boss, just so that I could ask her questions. Without me even saying anything, to boot. But for now, she was right. I needed to focus on the information I lacked.
In terms of intel, there was one overriding factor: what exactly his power was. I had to know that so I could factor it in. That would determine how safe we were here, how able we were to move against him even if we could get past Dragon, how the PRT would get involved… basically everything.
"What's his power? How does it mess with Tattletale? How do you know he put a hit on you? How safe are we here?" I signed in rapid succession. My finger placement was sloppy, but Skitter got the message.
"Tattletale described it as a Thinker power primarily; being able to live in two timelines, make different choices, and choose the outcome he wanted. He used it extensively in a lot of our operations to provide insurance, tell us when to go or not go, etc," she rattled off quickly.
As she was talking, a group of yellow jackets carried my notebook in from the other room, suspended in spider silk. I nodded gratefully and grabbed a pen off her desk, quickly scribbling things down. Anything I could learn from this conversation would be crucial–for the eventual PRT assault if nothing else.
"It messes with Tattletale because her power is intuition based. I won't go into specifics, but it's a Thinker power. It gives her lots of information gathering and processing capacity, but the wider a net she casts the worse the headaches are. She can, to a point, perceive his other timeline. Or at least, we assume so. He had a hit put out on me during the attack on the mayor's mansion."
I winced at the reminder. No, focus. My feelings could come later.
"She was absolutely sure he was going to try and have me killed, but nothing happened."
I nodded, frantically scribbling. I had to assume that her plan of bluffing him was busted at this point, then. That, or Tattletale was outright wrong. No, safer to assume enemy action first, and plan for the worst. This was all good information, but my hand was cramping. I shook it quickly to get the blood flowing again, motioning at her to continue.
"We're safe here, to a point. He doesn't have any powers outside the Thinker one. That means he's good at logistics, but needs to work through other people."
That made sense. Our position was better than I'd thought, then. Normally I'd be worried about long range, subtle threats like snipers or Blaster powers, but Skitter was a pretty good counter to those. And even if Coil had her range figured out, which I had to assume he did for safety, Dragon was right outside.
In a way, the situation insulated us completely by accident. Anyone trying to hurt us would have to be either incredibly subtle to get past Skitter's radar (poisoning the water supply maybe?), or strong enough to get through the Dragonsuit. And in either of those cases, we were fucked anyways. I had to focus on what I could control.
"Anything else?" I signed quickly, sensing our time was growing short.
"I'm going to sign at you to communicate anything I can't say out loud in the meeting. Write down as much as you can." Skitter hesitated. I could see the bob of her throat through the silk weave.
"I'm going to have to say things to him. No matter what I say or promise, you cannot react. Physically, or verbally. The chance of him noticing you're here is too great. I don't know if he's aware that you're in my base with me right now, but I have to assume that he is. No matter what, he can't know you're on the call."
A soft hand with chitin tipped nails gently rested on top of mine, stopping my writing mid sentence. I looked up at Skitter to see her eyes on mine. "If you think you can't do that, leave now. It'll be safer that way. But if you can be here…"
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.
I nodded, and she turned back to the phone to unmute it. A soft hiss came over the line, undercutting the man speaking.
"–tuation is unacceptable. If you aren't able to maintain control of your team–oh hello Skitter, so kind of you to finally join us."
His voice was cool, calmer than I would've expected. He was well spoken, but direct in a way that vaguely niggled something in the back of my head. But I couldn't quite nail down why. He could've been almost anyone. In a way it was surprising how normal his voice was. He could've been talking to a disappointing employee… but for the subject matter.
"I was trying to get my people in order after Dragon drove us out of downtown," Skitter said, idly adjusting one of her gloves. "Phone calls weren't exactly high on my list of priorities."
"Understandable, but I still expect you to answer when called," Coil said. "Especially if a situation changes this quickly. The tinkertech jamming will last against Dragon's intrusion programs for another eight minutes before the guaranteed window of privacy closes."
I quietly pulled the notepad closer to me, and started writing again. So Dragon wouldn't be privy to this; that answered one of my questions. It seemed he really was as dependent on information gathering as I'd suspected. That could be a critical leverage point, if I could find the right time and place for it. Maybe a localized Trump effect of some kind? And while I was at it, why didn't I wish for a pony…
"Tattletale was just briefing us about the current situation," Coil said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Yes. Currently there are Dragonsuits parked outside of all of our territories. Five in total. All within visual distance. I haven't been able to confirm that last part with everyone, but there's enough of a pattern that I'd plan with that assumption going forward."
Something about that caught my attention. Five suits? Sure, Imp didn't seem to have a territory. Or at least, none I could see divvied up on that conspiracy theory map above the desk. Which meant she must be staying with one of the others, probably Grue. But… I wouldn't put it past Tattletale for that to be a clue. Maybe Coil genuinely didn't know about Imp. She was an incredibly powerful Stranger. Especially if you were unprepared for her. Could that be a potential way in?
"Yes, I understand that Dragon is a problem," Coil said. "What I fail to see is how it's mine to solve. You all agreed to hold this territory after Leviathan. You fought openly against the Nine. This is no larger a threat."
Not a larger threa–I dug my nails into my palms. Ignore the hypocritical supervillain, Victoria. Focus.
"The problem is logistics," Skitter said. "She's caught us out of position. Each of us is pinned in a known location, with only a few exits, by enemies that have the movement advantage. Even if we were to take the fight to her, how could you expect us to do anything more than get shot as soon as we open the door?"
Coil scoffed. "So then what are you suggesting? I'm not about to risk my men to break my own capes out of their homes. That's just insulting."
"No one's arguing that, boss," Tattletale said. "We're just saying that going out of our bases right now to assault Dragon on our own is not going to get you the objective you want."
"Don't presume that you know what I want before I tell you, Tattletale." I could hear the bite in his voice, the condescension.
"What I need is for you all to hold your territories. The Bay is in a state of flux, and it cannnot afford for you to abandon your holdings now."
My pen flew over my notebook. He was phrasing this as being good for the city, but Skitter had said earlier that he'd demanded the assault on the mansion to begin with. With his resources–and especially Dinah–he could easily relocate elsewhere if he wanted to. The fact that he wasn't, and was willing to devote significant investment and potential commitment here, meant one of two things. Either there was a resource or an investment I wasn't seeing, or he valued the Bay in some way that went beyond its strategic utility. Which of those it was, I couldn't say.
Skitter glanced at me, and signed, "Question?"
I nodded. "Ask him what he wants directly. Easier to plan around."
"Then what would you have us do exactly, Coil?" Skitter asked, turning back to the phone. "You're unwilling to commit assets yourself. You want us to face the most powerful Tinker in the world when she has laser guided weapons pointed straight at our front doors. Unless your plan involves all of us getting arrested here, engaging at all is pointless."
"What I want is what I said at the beginning. What I'll remind you that you promised me. That you'd take territory, and hold it. That you'd prove an asset to me, and manage the underground in your region. That you'd keep the PRT away. You're failing to do that. Publicly. As it stands now, Skitter, I see no reason to honor our agreement."
Skitter's bugs swirled angrily around us. I met her eyes, and shook my head. "He's trying to make you angry, make a mistake. Don't let him win. He's not going to give her up anyways. Stall him."
Slowly, deliberately, the tension bled out of her. The centipede crawled up the leg of the table, jumped into my open hand and curled up against my palm. I stroked it softly.
"Fine then. Give us time. At least admit that this situation is unprecedented in our time here. The rest of the team hasn't even reported in yet. For all we know, one of them might have been out and can move independently. We can figure out what our options are, then strike effectively. Will you be willing to use your power to maximize that?"
There was a pause over the phone. I had to wonder exactly what was happening in this other timeline. How was the other version of this conversation going? Had I already given myself away there, for Coil to use against me here? Suddenly, I empathized with how difficult Skitter's struggle to plan against this Villain must have been this whole time.
"I'll consider it," Coil said finally, with obvious reluctance in his voice, "If you can prove to me you need it. I know that you've been housing Glory Girl for two weeks, you assured me that she would be a combatant that could be counted on. And yet you've made no mention of her yet in this meeting."
My ears rang. My heart beat fast and frantic. Sweat slowly dripped down my temple as I bit my lip. My nails dug into my palms. Was– was that what Skitter had said about me? To Coil? Was that her plan?
I shook myself. No, I had to remember what she said earlier. That she was going to have to say things to maintain her cover. This was a part of that. I believed her. I believed in her.
I had to.
"Yes," Skitter said, the walls around us snarling soundlessly, "I did say she'd be a combatant. And she's already proven willing. She outflew Dragon to get me back to my lair without capture. But I need time to convince her that outright conflict against capes is a good idea. That's why I'm still asking for your power."
"Hmm," Coil considered, as I held my breath. "If things change significantly and my forces can do something meaningful, perhaps. But as it stands now, I'm unconvinced."
"I can work something out, Boss," Tattletale said. For the first time, I processed her wording there. Boss. The same word that Charlotte used for Skitter, but more importantly, that Skitter used for Grue. And now Tattletale for Coil. Layers on layers.
"I should hope so. For your sake. You have one week. I expect results."
The line went dead.
A/N:
Me slapping the top of worm: this baby can fit so much literally unspoken drama in it
I know, I know, more set up. But it's important. This mini arc was a bit of an experiment for me; I wanted to see if I could establish a form of long term tension and ratchet it up over time. Ideally we should spend enough time living in this precarious situation that the audience feels the same desire to move and do something that the characters do. We'll see how well I did that.
Today's rec is part of a snippet series (edit: now its own thread), Roma Fade, by the excellent CasualCarnation. It's technically a post GM fic, though not in the usual way. It follows Fortuna and Ciara, formerly Contessa and Glaistig Uaine, both of whom have had quite enough of this "the entire world depends on what I do next" thing. They decide the cape world is better off without them, and take the opportunity to try and care for the girl they destroyed to save the world. It's an incredible look at how three broken people try to figure out how to live an ordinary life. Go read it.
"Coil"
I couldn't look away from Skitter's hands, hoping that she had signed something – anything – else. Maybe this was Bitch finding her phone, or Grue trying to get back in contact. Hell, maybe I'd been right the first time and it was Dragon.
But one look at the windows around us told me otherwise. Already Skitter's swarm was closing in, blocking off sightlines, surrounding us as much as possible. She was curling in on herself defensively. I wasn't even sure she noticed she was doing it.
My heart leapt up into my throat, palms clammy and cold, as I turned to look back at the phone. This was the person who had arranged the bank robbery that got me into this whole mess, just to kidnap a twelve year old. The one who'd been behind who knew how many of the events in Brockton Bay's criminal underground in the past few months.
The one who had put a hit out on Skitter.
We had maybe seconds to react before this got suspicious. What were we supposed to do? Why was he calling? I wished I could remember what Skitter had said about Coil exactly; what his goals were, his powers, anything. But it was all a blank. More than that, I was kicking myself now. How many opportunities had I had to ask her myself? I'd thought it was enough for Tattletale to get that information to Dragon, as if that meant I'd never have to deal with him directly. Stupid. You never turn down a source of information on an enemy cape–especially an unknown. What could he–
"Tattletale," Skitter's voice was flat, but I could hear the steel underneath. "Answer. Stall him."
There was a sharp breath over the phone. "Skitter, you know I can't–"
"Just do it," Skitter cut in. "Update him about the Dragonflight. Buy me two minutes."
"...Fine," Tattletale allowed. "But no more than that. And you owe me; you know how his power fucks with my head."
Skitter wasted no time in muting the phone, putting it down on the table and turning to me. "Victoria. You have questions. We have very limited time. Urgent questions only, ask now."
My breath caught in my chest, but I clenched my hands and forced it back out. Later, I would deal with the fact that Skitter had stalled her terrifying criminal mastermind boss, just so that I could ask her questions. Without me even saying anything, to boot. But for now, she was right. I needed to focus on the information I lacked.
In terms of intel, there was one overriding factor: what exactly his power was. I had to know that so I could factor it in. That would determine how safe we were here, how able we were to move against him even if we could get past Dragon, how the PRT would get involved… basically everything.
"What's his power? How does it mess with Tattletale? How do you know he put a hit on you? How safe are we here?" I signed in rapid succession. My finger placement was sloppy, but Skitter got the message.
"Tattletale described it as a Thinker power primarily; being able to live in two timelines, make different choices, and choose the outcome he wanted. He used it extensively in a lot of our operations to provide insurance, tell us when to go or not go, etc," she rattled off quickly.
As she was talking, a group of yellow jackets carried my notebook in from the other room, suspended in spider silk. I nodded gratefully and grabbed a pen off her desk, quickly scribbling things down. Anything I could learn from this conversation would be crucial–for the eventual PRT assault if nothing else.
"It messes with Tattletale because her power is intuition based. I won't go into specifics, but it's a Thinker power. It gives her lots of information gathering and processing capacity, but the wider a net she casts the worse the headaches are. She can, to a point, perceive his other timeline. Or at least, we assume so. He had a hit put out on me during the attack on the mayor's mansion."
I winced at the reminder. No, focus. My feelings could come later.
"She was absolutely sure he was going to try and have me killed, but nothing happened."
I nodded, frantically scribbling. I had to assume that her plan of bluffing him was busted at this point, then. That, or Tattletale was outright wrong. No, safer to assume enemy action first, and plan for the worst. This was all good information, but my hand was cramping. I shook it quickly to get the blood flowing again, motioning at her to continue.
"We're safe here, to a point. He doesn't have any powers outside the Thinker one. That means he's good at logistics, but needs to work through other people."
That made sense. Our position was better than I'd thought, then. Normally I'd be worried about long range, subtle threats like snipers or Blaster powers, but Skitter was a pretty good counter to those. And even if Coil had her range figured out, which I had to assume he did for safety, Dragon was right outside.
In a way, the situation insulated us completely by accident. Anyone trying to hurt us would have to be either incredibly subtle to get past Skitter's radar (poisoning the water supply maybe?), or strong enough to get through the Dragonsuit. And in either of those cases, we were fucked anyways. I had to focus on what I could control.
"Anything else?" I signed quickly, sensing our time was growing short.
"I'm going to sign at you to communicate anything I can't say out loud in the meeting. Write down as much as you can." Skitter hesitated. I could see the bob of her throat through the silk weave.
"I'm going to have to say things to him. No matter what I say or promise, you cannot react. Physically, or verbally. The chance of him noticing you're here is too great. I don't know if he's aware that you're in my base with me right now, but I have to assume that he is. No matter what, he can't know you're on the call."
A soft hand with chitin tipped nails gently rested on top of mine, stopping my writing mid sentence. I looked up at Skitter to see her eyes on mine. "If you think you can't do that, leave now. It'll be safer that way. But if you can be here…"
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.
I nodded, and she turned back to the phone to unmute it. A soft hiss came over the line, undercutting the man speaking.
"–tuation is unacceptable. If you aren't able to maintain control of your team–oh hello Skitter, so kind of you to finally join us."
His voice was cool, calmer than I would've expected. He was well spoken, but direct in a way that vaguely niggled something in the back of my head. But I couldn't quite nail down why. He could've been almost anyone. In a way it was surprising how normal his voice was. He could've been talking to a disappointing employee… but for the subject matter.
"I was trying to get my people in order after Dragon drove us out of downtown," Skitter said, idly adjusting one of her gloves. "Phone calls weren't exactly high on my list of priorities."
"Understandable, but I still expect you to answer when called," Coil said. "Especially if a situation changes this quickly. The tinkertech jamming will last against Dragon's intrusion programs for another eight minutes before the guaranteed window of privacy closes."
I quietly pulled the notepad closer to me, and started writing again. So Dragon wouldn't be privy to this; that answered one of my questions. It seemed he really was as dependent on information gathering as I'd suspected. That could be a critical leverage point, if I could find the right time and place for it. Maybe a localized Trump effect of some kind? And while I was at it, why didn't I wish for a pony…
"Tattletale was just briefing us about the current situation," Coil said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Yes. Currently there are Dragonsuits parked outside of all of our territories. Five in total. All within visual distance. I haven't been able to confirm that last part with everyone, but there's enough of a pattern that I'd plan with that assumption going forward."
Something about that caught my attention. Five suits? Sure, Imp didn't seem to have a territory. Or at least, none I could see divvied up on that conspiracy theory map above the desk. Which meant she must be staying with one of the others, probably Grue. But… I wouldn't put it past Tattletale for that to be a clue. Maybe Coil genuinely didn't know about Imp. She was an incredibly powerful Stranger. Especially if you were unprepared for her. Could that be a potential way in?
"Yes, I understand that Dragon is a problem," Coil said. "What I fail to see is how it's mine to solve. You all agreed to hold this territory after Leviathan. You fought openly against the Nine. This is no larger a threat."
Not a larger threa–I dug my nails into my palms. Ignore the hypocritical supervillain, Victoria. Focus.
"The problem is logistics," Skitter said. "She's caught us out of position. Each of us is pinned in a known location, with only a few exits, by enemies that have the movement advantage. Even if we were to take the fight to her, how could you expect us to do anything more than get shot as soon as we open the door?"
Coil scoffed. "So then what are you suggesting? I'm not about to risk my men to break my own capes out of their homes. That's just insulting."
"No one's arguing that, boss," Tattletale said. "We're just saying that going out of our bases right now to assault Dragon on our own is not going to get you the objective you want."
"Don't presume that you know what I want before I tell you, Tattletale." I could hear the bite in his voice, the condescension.
"What I need is for you all to hold your territories. The Bay is in a state of flux, and it cannnot afford for you to abandon your holdings now."
My pen flew over my notebook. He was phrasing this as being good for the city, but Skitter had said earlier that he'd demanded the assault on the mansion to begin with. With his resources–and especially Dinah–he could easily relocate elsewhere if he wanted to. The fact that he wasn't, and was willing to devote significant investment and potential commitment here, meant one of two things. Either there was a resource or an investment I wasn't seeing, or he valued the Bay in some way that went beyond its strategic utility. Which of those it was, I couldn't say.
Skitter glanced at me, and signed, "Question?"
I nodded. "Ask him what he wants directly. Easier to plan around."
"Then what would you have us do exactly, Coil?" Skitter asked, turning back to the phone. "You're unwilling to commit assets yourself. You want us to face the most powerful Tinker in the world when she has laser guided weapons pointed straight at our front doors. Unless your plan involves all of us getting arrested here, engaging at all is pointless."
"What I want is what I said at the beginning. What I'll remind you that you promised me. That you'd take territory, and hold it. That you'd prove an asset to me, and manage the underground in your region. That you'd keep the PRT away. You're failing to do that. Publicly. As it stands now, Skitter, I see no reason to honor our agreement."
Skitter's bugs swirled angrily around us. I met her eyes, and shook my head. "He's trying to make you angry, make a mistake. Don't let him win. He's not going to give her up anyways. Stall him."
Slowly, deliberately, the tension bled out of her. The centipede crawled up the leg of the table, jumped into my open hand and curled up against my palm. I stroked it softly.
"Fine then. Give us time. At least admit that this situation is unprecedented in our time here. The rest of the team hasn't even reported in yet. For all we know, one of them might have been out and can move independently. We can figure out what our options are, then strike effectively. Will you be willing to use your power to maximize that?"
There was a pause over the phone. I had to wonder exactly what was happening in this other timeline. How was the other version of this conversation going? Had I already given myself away there, for Coil to use against me here? Suddenly, I empathized with how difficult Skitter's struggle to plan against this Villain must have been this whole time.
"I'll consider it," Coil said finally, with obvious reluctance in his voice, "If you can prove to me you need it. I know that you've been housing Glory Girl for two weeks, you assured me that she would be a combatant that could be counted on. And yet you've made no mention of her yet in this meeting."
My ears rang. My heart beat fast and frantic. Sweat slowly dripped down my temple as I bit my lip. My nails dug into my palms. Was– was that what Skitter had said about me? To Coil? Was that her plan?
I shook myself. No, I had to remember what she said earlier. That she was going to have to say things to maintain her cover. This was a part of that. I believed her. I believed in her.
I had to.
"Yes," Skitter said, the walls around us snarling soundlessly, "I did say she'd be a combatant. And she's already proven willing. She outflew Dragon to get me back to my lair without capture. But I need time to convince her that outright conflict against capes is a good idea. That's why I'm still asking for your power."
"Hmm," Coil considered, as I held my breath. "If things change significantly and my forces can do something meaningful, perhaps. But as it stands now, I'm unconvinced."
"I can work something out, Boss," Tattletale said. For the first time, I processed her wording there. Boss. The same word that Charlotte used for Skitter, but more importantly, that Skitter used for Grue. And now Tattletale for Coil. Layers on layers.
"I should hope so. For your sake. You have one week. I expect results."
The line went dead.
A/N:
Me slapping the top of worm: this baby can fit so much literally unspoken drama in it
I know, I know, more set up. But it's important. This mini arc was a bit of an experiment for me; I wanted to see if I could establish a form of long term tension and ratchet it up over time. Ideally we should spend enough time living in this precarious situation that the audience feels the same desire to move and do something that the characters do. We'll see how well I did that.
Today's rec is part of a snippet series (edit: now its own thread), Roma Fade, by the excellent CasualCarnation. It's technically a post GM fic, though not in the usual way. It follows Fortuna and Ciara, formerly Contessa and Glaistig Uaine, both of whom have had quite enough of this "the entire world depends on what I do next" thing. They decide the cape world is better off without them, and take the opportunity to try and care for the girl they destroyed to save the world. It's an incredible look at how three broken people try to figure out how to live an ordinary life. Go read it.
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- Location
- America
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Yessssss!
This arc feels very "Flight of the Phoenix" to me, where through out the whole movie everything is getting worse and worse, every action taken makes everyone more desperate and there's no guarantee that things wont just fall apart around them at the end. Tone is set perfectly! I can't wait to watch things get worse. (And hopefully better????)
Also on the Victoria/Taylor front I LOVE seeing Victoria realize that Taylor needs her in that room for support just as much as she needed Taylor at the hero meeting earlier. Every chapter we get wonderful lil bite size pieces of this ship and its coming together beautifully.
This arc feels very "Flight of the Phoenix" to me, where through out the whole movie everything is getting worse and worse, every action taken makes everyone more desperate and there's no guarantee that things wont just fall apart around them at the end. Tone is set perfectly! I can't wait to watch things get worse. (And hopefully better????)
Also on the Victoria/Taylor front I LOVE seeing Victoria realize that Taylor needs her in that room for support just as much as she needed Taylor at the hero meeting earlier. Every chapter we get wonderful lil bite size pieces of this ship and its coming together beautifully.
- Location
- The Internet?
The chapter definitely did a good job of showing Victoria a better hint of the scope of the weight pushing down on Skitter's shoulders. She might be a big bad supervillain, but she's still a cog in Coil's machine. I especially liked the way Vic put those pieces together at the end of that, what with all of the various 'bosses' she's seen in this organization. Great stuff, thanks for sharing!
The author made your latest rec into a full-fledged thread today, just FYI.
The author made your latest rec into a full-fledged thread today, just FYI.
Geas
Meat Thing
Ohoh~.
I get the sense that Coil is becoming a wee bit salty.
Dragon sitting on the Undersiders the way she is means that he can't use them and more importantly can't use Tattletale the way he wants to, which limits how much use he can get out of Dinah's power. For once he doesn't have a big enough lever to make them to pick that fight, because Dragon could roll over the entire team in her sleep (not that she sleeps) and they know it.
This keeps him limited to using the Travelers as his cat paws, and to me they never came across as being as capable as the Undersiders; Trickster in particular is damn near as volatile as his girlfriend Noelle due to how thoroughly fucked in the head he is and isn't nearly as good of a leader, and in fact the cohesion of the entire team is lacking in comparison. That isn't even touching on the fact that using the Travelers is dangerous, for multiple reasons.
We're only seeing things from a limited perspective, but I get the sense that Dragon likely has more suits in play than the ones she has sitting on the Undersiders to keep them from misbehaving. Such a tactic wouldn't work on the Travelers nearly as well... But then if she has more suits in reserve as I suspect, then that might be keeping Coil from having the Travelers assist. Sunspot's power is absurd, but she's too passive and gentle to be a proper Cape. Plus, she can very easily be flanked and taken out of the fight.
... I'm realizing now that even with her shackles, Dragon really is massively overkill as an opponent against most teams, nevermind most Parahumans. If she just brings one suit that's bad, but multiple suits? Lucky for Brockton Bay that she places such a strong importance on the lives and safety of civilians. Even with her very limited ability to multi-task, I suspect that she could have broken the Empire 88 at the height of their strength all on her own if the Guild and PRT told her to take off the kid gloves.
Has me thinking that even as she 'prepares' to 'apprehend the Undersiders,' she's making an impression elsewhere in the city now that she has an excuse to do so... And Coil is not enjoying that.
I get the sense that Coil is becoming a wee bit salty.
Dragon sitting on the Undersiders the way she is means that he can't use them and more importantly can't use Tattletale the way he wants to, which limits how much use he can get out of Dinah's power. For once he doesn't have a big enough lever to make them to pick that fight, because Dragon could roll over the entire team in her sleep (not that she sleeps) and they know it.
This keeps him limited to using the Travelers as his cat paws, and to me they never came across as being as capable as the Undersiders; Trickster in particular is damn near as volatile as his girlfriend Noelle due to how thoroughly fucked in the head he is and isn't nearly as good of a leader, and in fact the cohesion of the entire team is lacking in comparison. That isn't even touching on the fact that using the Travelers is dangerous, for multiple reasons.
We're only seeing things from a limited perspective, but I get the sense that Dragon likely has more suits in play than the ones she has sitting on the Undersiders to keep them from misbehaving. Such a tactic wouldn't work on the Travelers nearly as well... But then if she has more suits in reserve as I suspect, then that might be keeping Coil from having the Travelers assist. Sunspot's power is absurd, but she's too passive and gentle to be a proper Cape. Plus, she can very easily be flanked and taken out of the fight.
... I'm realizing now that even with her shackles, Dragon really is massively overkill as an opponent against most teams, nevermind most Parahumans. If she just brings one suit that's bad, but multiple suits? Lucky for Brockton Bay that she places such a strong importance on the lives and safety of civilians. Even with her very limited ability to multi-task, I suspect that she could have broken the Empire 88 at the height of their strength all on her own if the Guild and PRT told her to take off the kid gloves.
Has me thinking that even as she 'prepares' to 'apprehend the Undersiders,' she's making an impression elsewhere in the city now that she has an excuse to do so... And Coil is not enjoying that.
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