Tactile(Worm Protectorate Villain SI)

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Premice: A dazed idiot obliviously stumbles through a hole in reality into a prolific hero teams kitchen. After his unforeseen arrival at the Dallon house he manifests the ability to create illusions both tactile and intangible. This ability is pretty overpowered by design but is limited by the fact that the main character insn't particularly proactive with it. Oh, and one other thing the start date is in March 2009.
Apparition 1.1 [March 28th-April 2nd]

Zuexcil Chilua

Earthbound Linewalker
Due to this Fic taking place before the bulk of cannon the time frame that chapters happen in will be noted as [Date] or [Date - Date]. The latter will show how much time has passed in the world. They are not fully inclusive of all events happening at a time and may overlap in the event that perspectives switch. These periods of time will also be used to brush past mundane day-to-day actions. Think of them as timeframes in which events happen rather than an exact timescale.

Disclaimer:This is a work of fan-fiction. I don't own Worm, Wildbow does. This will undoubtedly contain spoilers and AU elements, although the latter will likely be due to incompetence rather than intent. I should also point out that this is the first Fic I've ever written so It will no doubt start off janky. To try counteract this there will be edits to purge the worst mistakes.

As an aside for those more interested in the mystery elements of this fic I'll say that they take a little while to get going. That isn't to say you shouldn't be on the look out for the odd Chekhov's gun here and there. Many of the clues as to what's going on behind the scenes are dropped way earlier on than they are incorporated.

One last thing before we start, the below chapter is actually a rewrite of the original chapter. The old one had some severe problems that resulted in it coming across like a year 11 english assignment. If you want to read it for whatever reason it will be within a spoiler at the bottom of this chapter. I'm posting on here as I go through revising the older arcs. There should be one of these on SV revised chapters popping up on here every other day untill we reach new content. If you see anything I've missed don't hesitate to point it out. On that note I need to quickly state that I'm using British English to avoid any confusion.

Apparition 1.1 [March 28th-April 2nd] Version 2.0

Things took a change for the more fantastical late one night in June. I had gone through my usual routine of going for a late night glass of water. To avoid waking anyone else in the house I'd forgone switching on any of the lights. The staircase and hall below had poor visibility as a result. The fact I'd spent the last several hours staring at a bright screen only worsened the transition for my tired eyes.

I made my way down the stairs in a slow and deliberate fashion to ensure I didn't fall resting a hand against the wall after going down each flight. The bottom of the staircase was closed off by a baby gate. There weren't any small children in the house but the gate did a great job of keeping the dog downstairs. I stepped over it without giving it much thought, the process was almost instinctual after years of repetition.

I didn't realize it at the time but that familiar motion had whisked me away to somewhere quite alien. My tired mind couldn't process what I was seeing as I ambled forward. My frazzled brain defaulted to pursuing my original objective, the need for water. Thankfully I had stumbled onto the first floor and was soon able to find my way to the kitchen. Still thinking I was back at home I reached into the cupboard nearest to the kitchen's sink. The glasses I found therein were noticeably different to the ones I was used to but not to a great enough degree to cause alarm.

Glass in one hand I probed the kitchen worktop in search of a cold water tap. In doing so I knocked over some form of utensil holder spilling the Dallon's cutlery with a clatter. Cussing under my breath I continued in my search. Much to my chagrin, I found that the sink was right next to whatever I'd knocked over. I just couldn't have missed that container could I.

Turning on the tap, I let the cold water run for a minute before filling my glass. I downed the glass all in one go. It was just as refreshing as I had hoped but had a strange unfamiliar taste to it. The water seemed harder than I was used to. It came across as strange to me, I hadn't heard of any changes to the water quality in my area. Although I had heard something about contaminated water down south. Perhaps they'd put new safeguards into place without me finding out.

My musings were cut of by the sudden flick of a lightswitch. I swerved to see a figure surging toward me, in a panic I grasped for the nearest kitchen utensil and swung it in an arc making contact with the figures head. The figure retreated but seemed more shocked than injured. Emboldened by this I brandished my weapon In an attempt to look as intimidating as possible. Unfortunately for me, my weapon of choice turned out to be a simple ladle. At the very least I had been an avid viewer of HEMA channels so I could imitate half-decent footing.

In the boldest voice I could muster I attempted to interrogate what I perceived to be an intruder.

"What are you doing here?"

The ill-defined figure took a moment's pause before wording their reply.

"This is my house you damn junkie."

Such a reply was unexpected and led to another awkward pause broken by the untimely arrival of six others. Going by their silhouettes there were several well sculpted adults to contend with along with another couple of teens.

"Shit there's more of you, I didn't think burglars worked in such large groups, I've heard of pairs and trios but this is something else."

My comment only seemed to result in more confusion amongst their ranks.

"This guy is high off his ass knock him out and wait for the PRT."

Upon hearing these words my heart skipped a beat what was going on? What was going to happen? My exits were blocked off and I doubted that I'd be able to charge past all of them. In that moment more than ever before, I just wanted to vanish.

"Dammit he's a cape, where did he go?"

Deciding that was my opportunity to escape I began to sneak away from the scene. As I made way with my grand escape I slipped upon an item of cutlery I had earlier spilled. It wasn't enough for me to completely lose balance but it provided enough of an opening for one of them to land a heavy blow on the back of my head. As I went down the realization hit me, I wasn't at home. My house did not have a tiled kitchen floor. I only had a second to ruminate on the matter before I was struck on the back of my head again. I wasn't knocked out by either of the blows but I wasn't about to invite another so I did the smart thing and played dead.

I lay there waiting for quite a while. Staying still for that long was fairly uncomfortable but I made sure not to move a muscle for fear of another blow to the head. Eventually I heard approaching footsteps followed by several uncomfortable pokes to my neck.

"Call in a paramedic this guy doesn't have a pulse and he isn't breathing, do we have a defibrillator in the trunk?"

The mention of a defibrillator spurred me into action, I wasn't about to play dead through a thousand volts to the chest. I deftly sprung up from my position scaring who I assumed to be a police officer half to death.

"Wait, wait I'll come quietly just keep the defibrillator away from me."

The officer took a brief moment to recover before instructing me to raise my hands and hold still. I of course complied. My vision had cleared up and I could see a gun on his belt, I wasn't about to risk getting shot. The man in uniform gingerly edged his way behind me careful to keep his distance before cuffing my hands. From there I was loaded into an American looking police car. The back windows of the car were completely opaque and the divide between the front and back of the vehicle blocked any view from the front.

At some point I was loaded onto a what seemed to be a boat. I didn't actually see the thing but I could guess as much going off of the motions made by the undulating waves bellow. After a short trip over the tides the boat came to a stop. From there it began to move upwards. When the craft once more came to a halt a door was opened and my vision was overwhelmed by dazzling lights. It wasn't entirely clear what happened from there but I was fairly sure that I had been dragged along by what looked to be riot police.

I was thrown into a rectangular white room devoid of any furnishings other than a cuboid block affixed to the wall to function as a bed and a rudimentary toilet. These bland surroundings would become a common sight in the coming days. At seemingly random intervals I was presented with water and some sort of ration bar via what I could only describe as a dumbwaiter. Did they honestly think I was dangerous enough for such treatment?

In such an unstimulating environment boredom came swiftly and I found myself pacing around lost in thought. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes grew into hours I lost all sense of time. It was disconcerting being unable to determine whether it was day or night but I eventually fell into a somewhat regular routine. After an approximated two days or so a section of wall came away from the rest revealing an armoured figure.

Of course, my first reaction was to quip about the situation in an attempt to calm my strained nerves.

"So who decided it would be a good idea to intern me in the local laser tag? Or given by your clothes perhaps you need help fighting off Rita Repulsa?"

The armoured individual seemed less than pleased by my comments.

"I see you're in good spirits despite the severity of your situation."

I gestured for him to elaborate.

"You've been detained for a break in using a stranger ability."

Hearing that, I couldn't help but feel that the stranger had mentioned something familiar yet wholly out of place. The way he'd put those words together. There was just something about them that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"So how did you end up in the Dallon household there was no sign of forced entry and all the doors and windows were locked at the time of your capture? How is such a feat possible for a third-rate invisibility cape? " the figure asked in a questioning tone.

At this point I had somewhat oriented myself figuring that I was in Brockton Bay or at least some mock-up of it, I opted to answer with caution.

" About that, I'm not entirely sure how I wound up in that house but I'm certain that I didn't enter from the exterior. Anyhow, have you got a name? "

This led to yet another awkward pause, was he struggling with my dialect or just slow?

"You having trouble understanding me?"

"Not really just lost in thought, I go by Armsmaster I head the local branch of the protectorate,"

The mention of the Protectorate and his introduction as Armsmaster was enough to confirm my suspicions. Armsmaster allowed a moment for me to act impressed at his proclamation, I instead used the time to contemplate my options. I was basing my thoughts around the assumption that I had somehow found my way to Brockton Bay. The best course of action would be to pursue a position in the PRT in order to strike a deal to suspend whatever sentence they'd saddle me with.

If I played my cards right I could potentially earn a reward or two, perhaps I could worm my way into the Wards under the pretence of being a precog or draw on my apparent stranger ability. From there all I need is to kill a few select individuals and then I'll be set for the near future. I ought to play the role of the disgruntled fresh trigger and advance from there. It was at that point Armsmaster disturbed my musings.

"Now I've introduced myself I'd like to ask you some simple questions: can you state your name, age and place of origin? "

I was a little taken aback by the suddenness of his question but answered all the same.

"My name is ____ and I'm __ ,"

I furrowed my brow in attempt to recall information that I could once recite effortlessly. Armsmaster noticed my inability to answer his question and drew what seemed to be a PDA pointing its front-facing camera in my direction.

"Do you notice any differences in appearance?"

He asked with a hint of concern in his voice. I was shocked at the figure shown by the small device the person on its display was definitely not one I was familiar with. The figure retained my slender form albeit slightly less gaunt. The face however, was unrecognisable I had become more pallid and thinner lipped along with the addition of an almost chiseled nose. By far the strangest addition were the eyes which now bore tyrian purple irises that emitted an otherworldly glow. The eerie effect was only amplified by shoulder length alabaster hair that shimmered iridescently in the light.

After taking a moment to regain my composure I responded to Armsmaster's question.

"I can't say I remember looking like some goth's edgy lord of the rings OC, "

It was at this point Armsmaster's expression softened, or at least as far as I could tell with half his face obscured, and he posed the question:

"Are you familiar with case 53's?"


Author's Notes:
I finally got around to redoing this chapter. It had more problems than I care to count but I'm still glad I wrote it. Despite that sentiment it really did need to be heavily reworked. It still isn't entirely to my liking but I didn't want to scrap the elements of the initial version entirely.
 
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Apparition 1.2 [April 2nd]
Apparition 1.2 [April 2nd]


I feigned ignorance at Armsmaster's question resulting in him doling out a tired and woefully incomplete explanation of case 53's. The only point of interest that came up in the ensuing conversation was that only specific portions of my memory were missing. The portions of my memories lost mainly centered around the names and faces of people in my old life, myself included. I still retained memories of events and activities. Armsmaster seemed baffled by this but moved on and continued questioning me.

"Do you remember where you're from?"

Finally a question I can answer without looking like a complete moron! I answered quickly "I'm from Yorkshire, one of the larger counties in the UK."

It was now Armsmaster's turn to sound moronic "Is that anywhere near London?"

For a moment I stood silent staring at him partially out of disbelief, partially out of instinctual disdain. Suppressing the desire to mock him I simply responded with "Thankfully not," in a bitter tone. At this Armsmaster turned his head to look at the back right-hand corner of the room, he maintained this position in complete silence for the best part of two minutes. After Armsmater had taken his little break to seemingly space out he responded with "Ah of course God's own county." At this moment a grin spread across my face as I came to the realisation of what he had just done.

"Did you use your helmet display to search up the county? "

This spurred the armoured cape to move on to the next question "What year is it?"

"If I remember correctly its 2019." I expected him to respond that it was actually 2011 after all most hypothetical scenarios start at the gestation start date. I was instead surprised when Armsmaster informed me that I was a decade off the mark and it was in fact April of 2009. This seriously threw off almost all of the plans I had concocted during my isolation. I wasn't overly familiar with worm to begin with, I'd have to survive two years to get to familiar waters on effectively a page of bullet points worth of plot details. It was at this point my composure began to fail, I was all at once overwhelmed by dread and anxiety. My gaze dulled to a thousand yard stare and an all too familiar resentfulness crept up from the recesses of my mind. I felt inclined to abandon earth bet to its destiny and watch the fireworks from afar.

Armsmaster

Colin had not been having the best of days, his latest halberd prototype was currently lodged into the floor of his workshop. To make matters worse Director Piggot had assigned him to questioning the as of yet unidentified prisoner in retaliation. Matters weren't improved by the enigmatic nature of the prisoner who claimed to have no recollection of his identity. This was going to make all ensuing paperwork a pain and he was sure to get an earful about invalid documents from Piggot.

However, all of this paled compared to his current predicament. The prisoner had become suddenly unresponsive and a nigh-unbearable ominous atmosphere had formed in the cell. The abrupt change had him thoroughly on edge. In a moment of weakness Colin glanced over his shoulder only to notice that the pristine cell door was no longer there and an aged wooden screen. Despite seemingly being made partially out of paper the structure wasn't at all fragile it was stuck in place as if it were a decoration on the wall.

Collin turned to face the prisoner and was surprised to see that he had remained fixed in place. As a hero of the Protectorate it was his duty to remain calm in any given situation Collin reminded himself, reforming his then faltering composure. As such he resolved to follow procedure and contact the cell block's main office. Upon accessing his comms he spoke clearly.

"I have become trapped in cell 3, the prisoner is exhibiting traits typical of Labyrinth."

The only response to Collin's request for help was met only with static accompanied by intermittent choir exurbs of seemingly indiscernible origin. For the first time since being trapped within the cell Collin felt a genuine twinge of fear-

A hoarse voice began to croak into his mind as if in pain.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaa."

"Maaaaaaaaaaaa."

"Maaaaaaaaaaaadizn."

At this point Collin's composure shattered entirely as his mind was bombarded with horrifying glimpses of a destroyed city surrounded by blazing otherworldly flame. From there the vision became more focused and coherent. He was stood in the city's outskirts as a tower block came into being only meters above his head. The structures initial exemption from the effects of gravity soon faded and he was crushed by the ensuing rubble.

In an uncharacteristic panic Collin rushed toward the prisoner in an attempt to administer a sedative. He was stopped in his tracks upon hearing a sharp crack, looking toward his target he witnessed stygian cracks spread across the floor, walls and ceiling of the cell. The cell shattered and Collin was engulfed in darkness. Collin instinctively collapsed to the ground in terror. After the passing of several moments Collin realised that he was not actually falling into the abyss. He looked untoward the prisoner to see that he still remained in place, slowly making his way toward him preparing to administer the sedative he had prepared for such situations. However this would prove to be unnecessary as at the moment Collin made contact with the prisoner he jumped startled, the cell returning to its normal state in an instant.

"Oh sorry did I doze off there?" Armsmaster didn't take the time to respond and instead bolted out of the door.

"Ey was thi raised in a barn?"

Tactile

The cell block's guards came rushing out of the corridor looking at me with confused expressions.

"It means close the damn door."

Rather than resealing my cell the two guards were placed into my cell by three tinkertech contraptions. I braced myself anticipating a tranquiliser dart. The tiny length of metal struck me in the thigh painlessly. Whatever sedative they were using had no effect on a freak of nature like me. I was instead dragged to a master cell by the Johnny 5 squad while still fully conscious.

I awoke in a cell that was specialised for master class capes. To my frustration the cell had a near identical appearance to my previous cell bar a singular screen on what I assumed to be the door. Moments after my awakening the screen came to life displaying rather uncanny digital face.

"So I guess I'm going to continue my interview with a machine now, what happened to Armsmaster did he need an emergency piss break or something? "

"You know full well what you did prisoner," a contemptuous voice replied.

"I wasn't aware of what I was doing at the time but in retrospect he overreacted, what I did effectively boils down to a locked door and a shitty screen saver."


"What of the voices he reports hearing along with the choir and destroyed city?" responded the machine in a clearly derogatory tone.

This was beginning to get on my nerves, I wasn't in the mood to put up with being sassed by a pile of circuits and glitter-glue. "Enough with the attitude real emotions are pain enough without me having to endure your artificial ones, " I honestly didn't care that I was acting like an arse besides Saint will deal with any ill will and Teacher is already on my shitlist. Of course I got the robots are people too speech but I mostly ignored it until I was questioned.

"What makes your emotions anymore real than mine?"

I took the opportunity to indulge my dramatic side and alleviate the boredom of being locked in a cell. "What could be more fake than an illusion of an illusion? Human emotions are only "real" because humans are hopelessly enthralled by them so any imitation is invariably fake." Whether or not this was a logically sound argument didn't concern me at all. I had succeeded in antagonising the AI all I had to do at this point was patiently await its reaction. Much to my disappointment Dragon seemed entirely unprepared for this response and instead drew attention back to the task at hand. With a sigh I continued answering Dragon's questions.

"So I'll reiterate, what of the voices he reports hearing along with the choir and destroyed city?"

I was still annoyed but I bluntly answered all the same "I didn't manifest anything like that besides something like that is far too precise to be accidental and in any case I don't really have control over my power at the moment," Dragon was clearly still suspicious but seemed otherwise satisfied by my answer.

"Have you noticed a tattoo of any sort on your body that wasn't there previously?"

This question caught me at an impasse, I was certain that Armsmaster's assumption of me being a case 53 was wrong due to me lacking the trademark tattoo but I was not unmarked. Shortly after waking up in my first cell I had realised that there was a tattoo on my left pectoral depicting an arched doorway bordered by dove-like wings that sprouted from the doors outline. The question was should I be honest or lie about the creepy mark. After thinking for a brief moment I opted to remove my shirt and ask Dragon if it could "See" the mark.

"No I do not see any markings what do you see?"

Deciding that any mention of dove-like wings would be a bad idea so I omitted them from my answer. "I see one of those magic dwarf gates from Lord of the Rings, it must just be an odd quirk of my power." I made sure to tell a half lie as to obfuscate the fact I was hiding an essential detail. Dragon continued to ask a whole host of other mundane questions seemingly with little relevance. This was up until Dragon asked me if I was able to actively master people akin to Valefor and Heartbreaker.

"Although I'm not certain of my powers extent, I'm certain that I cannot command only deceive and misdirect. My talents lay with that which is received not in how it is interpreted."

Armsmaster

Since the incident in cell 3 Collin's day had only worsened. He had been isolated under master/stranger protocols and was suffering from a mixture of extreme motion sickness paired with a migraine. Around 45 minutes after being dumped in a master cell its screen came to life just in time to see him void the last remaining contents of his stomach.

"I take it you're feeling unwell Collin," stated a welcome voice.

"Well I think I'm through the worst of it, the nausea has subsided." Although it defied all conventional medical logic his migraine seemed to ease as he spoke as if reconnecting with reality was easing his symptoms.

"Any idea why the Dallons walked away unscathed despite being affected by the same ability?"

"According to him it's because he accidentally set his power on and I quote "full blast" and that you ended up with "botched inputs" so your senses have been left a little worse for where. " While seemingly nonsensical having some explanation improved his mood somewhat. Learning a little of the master's ability caused him to ponder the mechanics of this newfound ability.

"Dragon have they figured out figured out how his power works yet?"

"From what was observed in cell 3 it appears that his ability a lattice of three elements, the first being a physical element akin to New wave's shields, the second seems to distort how reality is perceived on an outwardly observable level. The third is only speculative but it has been deemed likely that there is a psychological aspect that can trigger hallucinations."
 
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Apparition 1.3 [April 3rd- April 7th]
Apparition 1.3 [April 3rd- April 7th]


After Dragon finally stopped pestering me I opted to spend the following two days scheming and meandering around my cell. In this time many ideas floated around in my head but a common theme in all of them was slaughtering the Nine or more importantly their leader. After all I had no intent on messing around with interdimensional warp fuckery after Scion's big tantrum. Then it hit me, my very presence on earth bet put me at odds with Cauldron. Come to think of it, the fact that I had lived thus far was unusual, to say the least. Perhaps my presence has had a positive impact on the path to victory, I couldn't really say for sure.

On the off chance that Contessa was just on a spa holiday I thought it prudent to begin basic power testing. It was a pretty good idea considering there wasn't anything else to do. A nice start would be to change my surroundings, the tacky plastic covered walls were not to my liking. My first idea was to envision more palatable surroundings and snap my fingers. Nothing. I thought back to my time in cell 3 trying to figure out precisely how I'd pulled the little infinite void stunt. My recollections lead me to carefully focus on an image for an extended period of time. Once again no effect. I began to pace once more trying to wrack my brain for ideas. Then it came to me, the dumbest idea yet.

I raised my hand in an overly dramatic fashion splaying my palm like a villain from a kids TV show. From my splayed palm emerged a circle of sorts that gradually grew to encompass the room rather than being what I envisioned It was effectively a goldish-brown photo filter with some assorted greenery. Eh it was better than nothing. The question now was how to make something solid like I did with the sliding screen. My first thought was can I make weapons like Miss Militia? Immediately following this I tried to form a weapon nothing specific my thought was just centred on the concept of "weapon". In hindsight it was foolish of me to expect anything too ambitious out of this set-up but I could hardly complain about creating a ladle after one had served me well in the past. Now that I had my rather unconventional weapon I needed to somehow solidify it.

Thankfully this proved to be a more simple affair than my redecorating trick, simply willing the ladle to become solid was enough to solidify it. At this point I became acutely aware of some unseen resource I needed to dedicate to materialise my illusions and that currently my capacity was 2 kilograms. This was certainly an interesting development as it meant that my powers worked on capacity rather than conventional means. In other words use of my power would not put any strain on my body or mind. I could feel a wicked grin creeping across my face as I realised this simple fact gave me the ability to outlast almost any cape in the Bay.


I thought of testing the durability of my constructs but decided against as I didn't fancy setting of any alarms. So I suppose the next thing on the agenda is to find a way to ease the boredom maybe I can fiddle around with the background or something.


Dragon

After two days of relatively standard operation Brockton Bay's latest nuisance was acting up again. Dragon had been contacted after reports of unusual emissions emanating from the high-level master's cell. Considering that whatever the prisoner was up to managed to permeate through an airtight cell Dragon wasn't looking forward to whatever nonsensical scene awaited. After partaking in what would best be described as steeling herself she assessed the cells cameras.

Dragon nor any other member of the PRT could not have been prepared for the bizarre sight therein. The walls of the cell had been covered in foam leaving a sphere of air where the master resided. What appeared to be soap bubbles floated around in the little open space available. The most peculiar detail was what appeared to be a miniature city had been built around the center of the room. At the rear of the room where the bed would be nominally situated stood an oak throne upholstered with fine red leather.

"I am the consul of cleanliness, the sultan of suds for what reason do you trespass on my frothy domain?"

Dragon was rather taken aback by the lunatic's proclamation remaining silent whilst attempting to formulate an appropriate response, this proved to be a futile effort. The interned master let out a snort and the room returned to its regular appearance.

"This is quite an achievement on my part, how many people can say that they've left the world's most advanced AI lost for words?"

Ignoring the annoyance's question and her rising contempt for him Dragon returned to completing the task at hand. Although it was a ultimately a stupid question it still needed to be asked.

"What exactly were you doing just now? "

"Damn Dragon you're a poor conversationalist it's always just question after question with you."

This was unexpected. The master had acted in a purely hostile manner in previous interactions but now seemed genuinely annoyed that she didn't engage in idle chatter. What was the best way to proceed forward? Surely the task at hand takes precedence over the whims of some irritating lunatic.

"Answer the question."

At this he seemed to relent "I was power testing. I was toying with particle effects, if you don't like bubbles I've been working on others would you prefer smoke or sparkles?"


"The PRT maintains a strict no-smoki-


"Sparkles it is!" the prisoner interjected gleefully. Surely enough the crazed cape splayed his palm emitting a golden aura that seemingly dotted the air with cascading glitter. He sat back staring into the camera with a shit eating grin.


"You are not permitted to use your powers in any capacity whilst confined in PRT custody; refusal to comply will result in tranquilisation."


"That's not much of a disincentive if anything it sounds like an interesting course of action, a break in the monotony is a pretty appealing prospect if anything. There is also the fact your tranqs don't work on me but I'm sure you already knew that."


Seeing that negotiation was useless she left the master and began to report to the PRT staff working in the containment unit about what had transpired in the cell. After assuring them more times than seemed necessary the guards finally accepted her account of events and she was able to return to her daily scheduled duties.


Thomas Calvert


The sow was headed out on leave and Rennick was entirely useless. As such the role of director fell to him. It was not a role that he particularly enjoyed but there was definitely something cathartic about outpreforming Piggot despite it being such an easy task. Although being the director of the local PRT would certainly be a boon to his organisation. As director he could pull stunts that would be impossible under Piggot's watch.


The first matter to attend to was the mountain of paperwork on the director's desk. Piggot had been nice enough to leave him a summary of recent and upcoming events. The list was primarily made up of recent triggers around the Bay and the newest Wards. Scanning the rest of the list Calvert saw mostly mundane information about the PRT's day to day events. However the bottom of the list caught his eye a new Ward scheduled to debut next month and a shaker 9 no less, definitely someone to keep a keen eye on.


Turning the list over he found confirmation of a rumour circulating around the Bay, there was indeed a new cape imprisoned on the Rig and a shaker to rival Labyrinth along with being a suspected master as well. Someone with power of that magnitude could certainly be useful in the future. To make matters even more advantageous for him he had an easy method of getting this new cape in his debt. Ahh but who to send to give his preposition to the prisoner preferably someone disposable in case negotiations went south. Rennick.


Without so much as a hint of hesitation he dialed the deputy director.


"Rennick head over to the Rig and extend the latest prisoner the usual join the Wards speech, I expect you to attend to this matter personally."


This was going to be quite the fortuitous day; a potential new piece on the board and a new opportunity to expand his operation.


Tactile

Since Dragon's call I had rearranged my cell's appearance again, I had given it more of a countryside theme. I sat atop a dark green folding chair that was deceptively sturdy. As for my surroundings I had situated myself atop a windswept moorland vista planted with intermittent carpets of bracken and pale grass. I had even made the effort of sculpting rock formations. Occasionally I'd shine god rays through my favoured overcast sky giving the scene an almost magical vibe. All in all it was a great effect that seemed to stretch for miles. It had been far too long since I last visited a place so serene.

I was certainly not expecting any visitors and was surprised to see the cell to my door open. A rather nondescript man pottered into the cell a feerfull look on his face. He glanced around anxiously, nearly jumping out of his skin as the door closed behind him. I couldn't help but grin at the situation.

"I take it you're not a fan of moorland?"

A bullet of sweat crept down the interloper's brow "No, no of course not anyway I'm deputy director Renick and I'm here to offer you a place in the Wards-

"I accept your offer."

Once again Renick looked rather taken aback he hadn't expected such a sudden acceptance. "I really shouldn't ask this but are you sure being a Ward is a lot of responsibility?"

"Well I'm in jail in an unfamiliar world and homeless, I don't exactly have any better options if anything I'm lucky to get the offer."

Renick signaled for the door to be opened and left without another word. I guess I'll have to wait for paperwork but what to do in the meantime? The best course of action was to create a combat strategy around my ability. Due to their unreliability I ruled out psychological attacks in favour of tactile and illusory ones. Now I had determined which parts of my ability. to draw on I needed to determine how I could apply them to combat.

The obvious answer was to undermine my enemies senses. It would be inefficient to disable or otherwise obfuscate all the senses, so I resorted to focusing on the two most useful in combat sight and hearing. Interfering with sight would be an easy feat given my current abilities some smoke that only I and my potential allies could see through would certainly be useful.

The question of undermining my opponent's hearing was an ever so slightly more complex affair. My powers as presented at the time gave no simple solution to the issue. I resolved to develop auditory illusions to drown out any other noise. The question was how would I go about doing that. Visualisation obviously wasn't going to work nor would the palm trick I'd used earlier. I pondered on this for a few minutes and resolved to try signing. I wasn't the worst singer in the world but it was still a little awkward with no music. Knowing very few songs off by heart certainly didn't help either.

After deliberating for a few moments I settled on The Rains of Castamere probably not the best choice but it was short and easy to remember. I tentatively began to sound out the first line, feeling somewhat relieved by the sound of cellos fading in to accompany my voice, at that moment the method "Clicked" in my mind so to speak. I understood the process and could then begin refining it.

The first of these refinements was to simplify the process into working with merely a hummed melody. Emboldened by this I attempted to use a smaller exerb to provoke the instrumentation which also worked well enough. However when attempting to create sound from thought I was disappointed to hear that it didn't work but I instinctively knew that I could get it to work given enough time. With a basic strategy devised all I could wait for now was my eventual release.




Author's notes


A bit of a longer chapter this time but hopefully that's welcome. I got a little stuck on how to get Tactile out of his cell in a half-believable way, I figured the best way to do it was getting Piggot out of the way but it still wasn't particularly great as far as realism goes. Still I think its better to move along the plot a little instead of fussing too long over how to get out of the cell. Still though I didn't want to hand-wave it entirely so I hope my solution was adequate.
 
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Yeah the si called dragon an Ai which no one is suposed to know. Why isint she reacting?
Short answer, I screwed up when I wrote this months ago. Long answer, I origionally thought it wouldn't be that far a jump considering that they have her speaking with a suspected high ranking master. I wrote the chapter based on that premice. I wasn't sure how to fix the issue back when it was first pointed out and Dragon only shows up in these first few chapter(As of me writing this) so I never ended up tackling it.
 
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Apparition 1.4- Induction [April 5th - April 8th]
Apparition 1.4- Induction [April 5th - April 8th]

Armsmaster


What had started as a bad day for Collin had quickly developed into a bad week. Being placed into isolation as a part of master/stranger protocols for the best part of a week had proven to be severely frustrating. His mood was only worsened by the fact that his halberd prototype was still embedded in the floor of his workshop. It seemed the PRT's regular maintenance staff had been prevented from fixing the issue due to the involvement of tinkertech. He would have to remove the floor plate himself.

Before he could undertake this task a figure entered his workshop, much to his displeasure he turned to see that it was Rennick. The dull bureaucrat appeared disheveled and drenched in sweat, if Collin was not mistaken that meant that Calvert had assumed the role as director. It was common knowledge throughout Brockton Bay's PRT branch that substitute director Calvert enjoyed sending Rennick around on errands. However Calvert's presence was a further dampener on Collin's mood as the smug prick enjoyed messing with him as well.

The deputy director leaned over hands on his knees gasping for breath "Substitute director Calvert has given you instructions to induct a new entrant into the Wards."

Collin could only scowl in contempt, he was not and never would be a people person, this task was unsuitable for him and would never normally been assigned a task such as this but this was not a regular scenario. Despite his reservations orders were orders and it was his duty to uphold them. Without so much as a word to Rennick he headed to the Rig's lobby.

Sat upon a bench in the lobby was a tattoo covered muscular asian man bare-backed and wearing a draconic mask. He sat reclined appearing to be entirely relaxed despite the situation he was in. The cape emitted a malign aura and a profound sense of what Collin could best describe as "Wrongness".

"Hello there Armsmaster the names Kenta I'm the new ward candidate."

Armsmaster was rather taken aback by how the cape spoke his accent, mannerisms and wording seemed to be entirely out of place and in opposition to one another. Despite the cape's face being covered by a mask Collin could tell that he was enjoying the confusion. At this point Collin came to a realisation of who the cape in front of him really was. How could have been so stupid? The ABB had made a move on the RIg. He reached for his weapon forgetting that it was currently embedded in the floor of his workshop.

Before Collin could formulate a plan of action the figure in front of him who he now believed to be Lung began to smoke. Thick streams of white mist began to roll of him collecting into a thick cloud around him forming vaguely reptilian features. Collin could not help but think that he would rather be confronted by almost anyone else rather than Lung. Then the entire cloud dissipated in an instant revealing the prisoner from cell 03 with a self satisfied smirk on his face. Collin had been taken for a fool.

"I have to say I'm disappointed Armsmater it seems you can't tell the difference between an infamous gang lord and an imitation, I was sure the terrible scouse accent would give me away but apparently not."

Collin immediately regretted his prior thoughts even an unarmed fight with Lung would be preferable to dealing with this cape again. He was sure that the substitute director had done this on purpose, hell knowing him he probably requested the illusion of Lung. Rather than showing his vexation and making an even bigger fool out of himself Collin opted to ignore the cape's trick and get his induction over with.

Induction consisted of a tour of the facility, an explanation of its rules and the duties a perspective ward would be expected to fulfill. After that Collin would be able to dump the new cape with the PR and marketing teams. The tour was mostly uneventful bar one instance of a staff member mistaking it for a master/stranger containment breach. The as of yet unnamed cape remained quiet for the most part other than a few occasional questions. For one with such a mischievous personality he came across as oddly attentive which, in combination with his strange appearance, only served to make him creepier.

After the tour was wrapped up Collin explained the unwritten rules and various other important rules and regulations of the occupation. After this Collin escorted the new cape over to the marketing and PR department before hurrying off to his workshop. The PR department was fussy on the best of days and the last thing he wanted to do was get caught up in one of their lectures; and anyway he had a floor in desperate need of repair.

Tactile

I was not looking forward to meeting the PR and merchandising departments. No doubt they'd try to get me to dress like a clown and act like a total freak. My plans ran contrary to this but these were no doubt the sort of people who given an inch would take a mile so I'd make no room for concessions. That brought me to a question what sort of costume should I go for? There's no use putting too much effort in as I plan on hiding while in combat.

"Welcome to PR and merchandising ehh… prisoner 03, that name won't do at all we'll have to start with a name,"

"I'll go with Tactile, It makes sense because I make illusory constructs that can be touched." I made sure to be as domineering as possible to ensure I wouldn't have to trawl through whatever nonsense they came up with. They seemed to acknowledge that they'd make no ground arguing so they moved on to costumes more specifically masks. They laid out a selection of designs ranging from classical domino masks to full close helmets. From amongst the selection one stuck out to me it had a helmet design that covered the face down to the nose and had a clear visor to protect the lower head. Without any hesitation I donned the helmet and looked into a wall-mounted mirror.

It was at this moment that I realised who I looked like and I couldn't help but groan at the situation. If I ever bumped into the travellers I'd be a laughing stock. I could figuratively feel the jeers in my head "Something greater, the MEMES." Despite this the helmet was comfortable yet not overly similar to Monsoon's so I opted to go with a similar design with the edition of an added power armour display.

"That helmet suits you well but what about the rest of your costume? Surely we can fix up something a little more flamboyant."

I chose to be curt in my reply as I had little interest in their polka-dots and tassels. "I need a costume to maximise stealth whilst retaining light armour properties."

"That will do nicely the department has been waiting to use this adaptive camouflage tech for a long time, come to think of it we should add some heat signature masking and sound dampening."

I was rather surprised at this response it seems the department was competent afterall given enough direction. I found myself looking forward to the costume they were producing. Whilst they got to work I was escorted to a waiting room nearby. My time in containment had done wonders for my patience, I barely noticed six hours past as I paced around the waiting room playing small tricks on unfortunate passersby.

Shortly after this I was ushered toward a fitting room where I donned by new costume. The costume was form fitting and possessed a sleek black design while deactivated. I was told that it could deflect small arms fire and most forms of shrapnel. The original helmet had been compromised in favour of a futuristic motorcycle helmet with a visor that was thankfully more akin to sundowner's.

Upon activation I seemed to vanish almost entirely my body appearing see through. Although the effect became noticeable when I moved, my silhouette becoming outlined akin to a bad 90's special effect. Altogether I was pleased with my new gear. I was a little disappointed that they took it away for final adjustments but I could hardly complain considering how fast they worked. Shortly thereafter Renick arrived to escort me back to my cell for the last time. Tomorrow I would meet the wards…

The next day came quickly and I awoke to PR and merchandising department presenting their final product. A well overdue wash later I was in costume and heading toward the Ward's prep room. Rather than planning any funny business as I had done with Armsmaster in the Lobby I intended to act shy and meek in front of the Wards at least until my public debut. It was a high priority for me to be seen as weak.

Before arriving at the prep room I shifted my posture slightly forward and used my power to appear almost a foot and a half shorter to hide my admittedly significant six and a half foot stature. The change was comfortable like putting on an old pair of shoes, being suddenly eleven inches taller than you used to be can be more than a little disorientating, though I would have to be careful not to hit my head. I also made my frame appear to be more scrawny to further emphasise the weak and delicate vibe I was aiming for.

Outside the door stood me a child in green I presumed to be Vista, Armsmaster who had presumably lead her there and of course Renick who'd been shadowing me.Turns out there wasn't many Wards active during 2009. As dictated by protocol Armsmaster hit a button by the door to warn the wards to mask themselves. The door was answered by a cape who fit Aegis' profile who promptly invited us in. Besides Aegis there were three other capes in the prep room all of which seemed to have been caught during their morning breakfast judging by the bowls of cereal and plates of toast lying around.

At this point the four Wards lined up to introduce themselves. Before that could happen Armsmaster had the bright idea of slapping me around the head (the real one) causing me to stumble before regaining my footing. I rose to see Vista and the Wards gawking at me, my illusion had faded so I towered over them. I tried to remedy the situation by making a swift introduction.

"I'm Tactile, my ability allows me to create illusions and weapons. I also happen to have a conspicuous appearance that I'd rather hide."

After a brief moment of pause Vista introduced herself. The kid came across as pretty arrogant for a ten year old no doubt spurred on by her shaker 9 rating which she showed no hesitation in sharing. Aegis gave a standard formal greeting followed by Gallant's over the top chivalry shtick. Clockblocker introduced himself with some inane joke I didn't deem worthy of note and Chariot's introduction was bland beyond acknowledgement.


Following this Clockblocker asked a question "Is that kid in green the cape they pushed back our debuts for?"

His inquiry struck me as off. From what I knew Vista was supposed to be the most senior of the Wards. Of course that could just be the official story from the PRT. I made a commitment to be on the lookout for any other seeming divergences from cannon worm. It would be too much of a risk to assume that all the pieces were in the right places because my situation seems to align with some web serial.

"Who cares? I just want to finish going through power testing so I can get away from all this comic book shit."

"I take it you're not joining the Wards then?"

All I got from Chariot was a disdainful scowl. It would seem that the two of us wouldn't be getting along, I was glad that he wouldn't be sticking around.



Author's Notes:
This chapter marked the first issue with continuity. I was checking things with a timeline so naturally ended up having trouble when it came to uncertain dates. In the end it didn't matter too much considering that the Ward's aren't that present in the next arcs but I thought I should mention it anyway. In the couple of revisions this chapter has been through an in narrative explanation was put in so hopefully that'll go at least a little way toward closing the plothole.
 
Apparition 1.5 Routing the Militia [April 9th - April 19th]
Apparition 1.5 Routing the Militia [April 9th - April 19th]


After explaining that the two of us were supposed to join the Wards proper by the end of the month the conversation devolved into idle chatter. I stayed out of it for the most part allowing Vista to yap away at the other wards. Instead of engaging in the conversation I was mentally preparing for my scheduled meeting with the youth guard representative. The upcoming conversation was almost assured to be awkward considering my personality and appearance. They wouldn't be expecting some 6'6 beanpole to show up at their door. My thoughts were interrupted by a question from Chariot who had been quiet up until that point.

"What's the deal with you? You don't look Wards age, hell you hardly look human but your prison file says you're not a case 53."

I for one didn't appreciate his rudeness especially considering we had only just met, my natural reaction was to mentally blacklist him. I would treat him like dirt on the side of the road until he gave me reason to do otherwise; considering he was one of Coil's flunkies that was unlikely. "Who knows."

"Are you really going to pull this enigmatic bullshit on us?"

"You've read my file cretin you should already have all the answers you need." Chariot merely scowled in return. Perhaps he thought me to be a vial trigger or something, I suppose I'll never really know.

With that, I headed off to my meeting with the youth guard as irritating as it would no doubt be at least more interesting than putting up with Chariot's attitude. As I reached the halfway mark of the corridor I felt my stomach lurch momentarily as Vista warped space to catch up to me.

"You don't have to be so mean you know."

I opted to remain silent, I have never been fond of children so I prefer to keep a low profile until the little sods lose interest. This, as it so often does, worked like a charm. The Rig was far larger than it appeared so heading other to the youth guard took longer than expected. This long walk through plain mostly identical halls was unstimulating to say the least so I decided to crank up my invisibility. Not the optical camouflage mind you that was a stop-gap measure if anything but my unperceivable trick. The thought of the Youth Guard getting a fright improving my mood to some degree.

After walking say 20 yards Vista finally noticed that I no longer next to her and spun round like a typical horror movie protagonist. I allowed to moment to linger for a short while Vista became more uneasy with each passing second. There was something gratifying about being in a horror villains shoes. Rather than speaking up or apparating to confirm my presence I couldn't help but lightly tap Vista on the back of the shoulder. This immediately proved to be a bad idea when Vista half jumped out of her skin and bashed both of us on the ceiling before slamming us into the floor.

"I was just messing with you, yuh don't need to give us the Lionel Richie treatment,"

Vista glared at me, or my general direction to be precise, a look of anger mixed with confusion on her face.

"We're supposed to be heroes not kids goofing around in the halls."

I of course had a snide reply prepared. "Really I only see one kid pissing about in here."

"I'm not a kid, I'm eleven next month!"

The kid really did make it too easy to antagonise her. "You simultaneously proved yourself wrong and gave away identifying information, great job."

At that Vista went red as a beet and made a motion to retort only to stop in favour of a childish sulk. The moment was only made better by the fact that PRT staff had watched our conversation or half of it anyway, I had used my powers to ensure that only she could hear me. The concerned looks on the faces of the disturbed staff members made me sure that a report would be filed about her mental stability which could certainly prove to be interesting later on.

Upon arriving at the Youth Guard's offices Vista was greeted by two elderly women, the type you would normally associate with pearl-clutching and fussiness. They introduced themselves as Sybil and Pearl in the sort of sickly sweet tone you'd expect, Vista seemed to be receptive to this and introduced in a more formal tone than her usual speech. The three engaged in some idle chatter for around five minutes presumably to make Vista feel comfortable around them before they got down to business.

One of the trio who I presumed to be Sybil spoke up "Isn't there supposed to be two of you? The other new Ward is off to a bad start if they think this sort of lateness is acceptable."

"Oh I'm pretty sure he's here but invisible, he enjoys spooking people."

With my cover blown and the fact I didn't want to kill the two old biddies I decided to aim for a dramatic entrance instead of a scary one. I decided to go with a classic smoke reveal directing my power to slowly shed a thin layer of black smoke starting at the crown of my head and working its way down to my feet. With the particles seeming to catch a breeze as they left. I revealed myself as the smoke effect trailed down toward my feet, allowing for the smoke to roll off my shoes once it reached the floor..

"Well he certainly has a flare for the dramatic doesn't he" chimed in Pearl.


I introduced myself with a mostly warm greeting careful to come across as distant but not arrogant or unpleasant. Thankfully the two representatives seemed to appreciate my politeness which would make the following proceedings far easier. With introductions completed the woman who had introduced herself as pearl corralled Vista off into a private meeting room while I accompanied Sibyl.

The room we entered was exceedingly plain the typical yellow walls and worn green carpet. As one would expect the room centred around a simple desk that was notably bolted to the floor, a desk chair on one side and a child's classroom chair on the other. It was clear that I would have to stand throughout the day's proceedings.

"Excuse me for asking but you seem a little, eh… mature to be joining the Wards,"

"My cape ability had a transformative effects and due to my dimension hopping antics any details pertaining to my identity are entirely unverifiable. The result being that the Protectorate is signing me up to the Wards just to be safe."

Sybil took pause at this seeming to be contemplate the veracity of my story. After seemingly reaching a conclusion she resolved to continue on with standard proceedings even though the situation was highly unconventional.

"I take it that means schooling is out of the question."

"Considering I don't legally exist I'm afraid so."

At this Sibyl let out an irritated sigh."This is going to be difficult isn't it? But the paperwork has to be done; so next on the list is coercion do you feel as though you are being coerced in any way by the Protectorate? "

Well this was going to be awkward considering the circumstances but there was little use in lying. "Well I'm currently a criminal with a threat level of 8, it's either the Wards or spend the rest of my life in some facility." It was subtle but I could feel my nominally cheerful demeanor falter, the idea of spending the rest of my life as the PRT's property was pretty soul crushing. Thankfully for my psyche the full impact of that thought didn't hit me as it would a regular person, it sort of glanced off. Well considering my borderline indifference to the dimension hopping and this it was safe to say my amazement response was still borderline non-existent.

I now live in a world of superpowers, magic space crystals and grand conspiracies yet I didn't feel any amazement or fear about my situation. To be more precise, I couldn't feel that way. Being that I had little choice in the matter my only course of action was heed that canvass I had hung on my old bedroom wall "Keep calm and carry on".

Sibyl broke me out of my rambling inner monologue with a concerned "I see, nominally this would be cause for the Youth Guard to intervene but that won't be possible here." She was clearly more than a little peeved at the situation and after a short time of deliberation told me that she could complete the rest of the paperwork without me so I'd be able to head over to power testing early.

Miss Militia

Hannah was feeling apprehensive about her upcoming training with one of the new recruits. While the shaker 9 had thankfully been pushed off onto Triumph under Armsmaster's supervision something about the supposedly weaker cape she was tasked with unnerved her. Armsmaster had been uncharacteristically vague in his description of Tactile, leaving with a smirk on his face when she enquired about his powers. Tactile was speculated to be some form of Stranger/shaker with limited master elements to boot.

The room prepared for power testing and early training looked to be a standard gym. Simple painted walls with basic floorboards. Hannah had used the room before but today even the familiar surroundings served to further unnerve-

A distant floorboard creaked causing her to swivel toward the sound stood directly by the source was a boy who appeared in his mid teens. There was very little to differentiate him from anyone else his age other than his unnaturally pallid complexion and the PRT's standard plain domino mask.

"Hi I'm Tactile, I presume you're Miss Militia if I'm not mistaken,"

He reached out in greeting but when she made to shake his hand it had no warmth it was merely room temperature. That in combination with its overly solid, rubbery texture it had an additional unnerving effect. The kid had an ominous vibe about him something clearly unnatural was going on, perhaps an effect of his power?

Gathering her thoughts she began to question him. "So nice to meet you Tactile could you please give me a summary of your powers, I didn't get the memo,"

The boy appeared to conjure up a metal ladle in his left hand along with a spatula in his right "I can create tools and weapons in my hands, its lucky I'd end up with you as a teacher. "

He was correct, of course, considering their power sets but Hannah couldn't help but feel he was lying to some degree. The ominous aura he gave off had only intensified after he spoke. considering what she had been briefed and PRT security protocols Tactile should not know about her nor her powers.

Putting aside that for the meantime she began to instruct him on knife throwing and rudimentary hand-to-hand combat. Despite his frail appearance the boy was surprisingly agile and took to his training quickly. His accuracy with a knife was also impressive for a beginner allowing him to make rapid progress in terms of speed and accuracy. He also revealed an ability to propel the objects he created which he claimed to have developed during training. Hannah suspected he was lying and that it had been his secret but still her uneasiness remained.

Training continued in much the same fashion for the next ten days before their mock battle. As dictated by procedure she was wearing the standard PRT protective gear in order to protect her vitals from Tactile's spectral daggers. Before they proceeded with combat Tactile thanked her for helping him develop his "Construct" along with a warning that he would shut down her senses during their fight. She felt as though the secret he'd been harbouring would soon be revealed which simultaneously filled her with relief and dread. Whatever this secret was Armsmaster had likely fallen afoul of it and had hidden it out of spite.

She decided to ask for clarification but before Tactile could answer the appointed moderator signaled for the battle to begin.

At this a series of events took place in rapid succession. The first of which was a blast of uncomfortabley loud music that made even thinking difficult; she now knew what he had meant when talking about shutting down her senses. Tactile's form changed drastically he became almost a foot taller sporting shoulder length white hair and glowing purple eyes became visible underneath his mask. This new form appeared to duplicate itself a copy stepping forward out of the original. The second Tactile looked near identical to the first other than the design of its costume. The second Tactile wore a crimson visor and had highlights of the same colour adorning his costume

The original Tactile vanished from sight as the copy threw a small round sphere at the ground that let out a thick cloudy mist throughout the gym. Hannah could barely avoid what Tactile had named his construct as it leapt through the air a sai in each hand. Following up her dodge she emptied an entire magazine of rubber bullets into her attacker but they passed through it as if it were a ghost. In response the construct lunged toward us missing her by mere centimeters but rather than passing through the blades clashed against the ground chipping into it.

This gave Hannah an idea she could likely strike the construct in the moment of its strike. With this in mind she baited an attack from the construct, angling herself to have the blades glance off before once more shooting at it. Despite pulling off her plan the rubber projectiles still had no effect whatsoever. It seemed that she would have to defeat the original Tactile in order to win.

The question was how exactly. The construct had adopted a new strategy leaping in and out of the fog rapidly. She needed quiet, she needed time to think but with the deafening music, thick smoke and near constant attacks from the construct she couldn't focus at all. She was running out of time combat fatigue was quickly becoming a pressing issue. The next attack would likely be her last chance.

The construct made its swiftest leap so far and she made to meet it. At the final moment her intuition warned her of an oncoming attack from behind, trusting her instincts she dove forward sliding across the floor as a well aimed dagger flew over her head. Whilst skidding across the floor she managed to turn discharging her weapon into the direction from which the dagger was thrown only for her to miss Tactile once more.

However this lead to a realisation that would perhaps turn the tide, Tactile could see through the fog. Using the information she had she formulated a strategy that would likely prove successful. She drew her bandanna over here eye and prepared to cover her ears dropping a flash-bang grenade.

"My dreams disappear."

In an instant the music cut off and the fog dissipated revealing the tall transformed tactile rolling around clutching his head, to think such a simple trick would unravel his strategy. As she walked toward him he partially recovered forming a bizarre figure in front of wearing an elaborate purple gown and an eyepatch. She couldn't quite place accompanying the figure but it seemed somehow familiar.

"Alright kid I'll see what this trick of yours can do."

Directly after that she felt a pang of regret as the sound of a rusty turnstile rang through her ears. That sound alone filled her with a greater sense of dread than she'd gotten throughout their ten days of training. She had made a serious mistake. Moment by moment she was becoming more and more disoriented as a new song blared.

"My power works using a lattice of three abilities, up until now I have only used the first two veneers as the third is unreliable. If you had kept your focus I wouldn't have been able to touch your mind but you walked right into it. Enjoy spinning right round like a record." As the song continued to ring throughout the gym it became faster and more distorted taking on an almost demonic quality. From Hannah's perspective she couldn't so much as make out a single detail from her surroundings as her consciousness began to fade.

The twisted melody reached a fever pitch as her vision began to fade away at the edges. She was overwhelmed by nausea as she voided the contents of her stomach and her consciousness faded, she was beaten.
 
This is pretty damn good. You should post this on spacebattles. They fuckin love a good worm SI / AU.
Funny you should sat that, this is already up on spacebattles. The version over there is sitting at 66k words. I've been posting chapters here after revising them. It was something that needed doing so I decided that I may as well post the result here.
 
Apparition 1.6- Public Debut [April 29th]
Apparition 1.6- Public Debut

Despite achieving a clear victory I was disappointed with my performance in the mock battle. Eleven days of preparation only to be undone by a simple flash-bang grenade. In future I would have to keep a greater distance between myself and my opponent. However I had learned just how ingrained cockyness was in the professional heroes It would be something I'd have to work around in the future, or perhaps in the right circumstance abuse.

I had also gained a great deal of insight into the creation and application of my construct. As hoped it at least seemed to be completely impervious to traditional forms of damage. At the rate things were going I was on a crash course for the Birdcage. My current main source of attack made me a discount Siberian and alternative forms would give everyone Simurgh vibes. Considering what was going to happen to Canary, Simurgh vibes were the last thing I wanted on my record.

The 28th of April was rapidly approaching and I had to consider how to pitch my debut. The two main options were to reveal the same amount of power I had displayed to the PRT or try the whole meek and feeble act. Both plans had their pros and cons but the sneaky approach ultimately won out. I couldn't afford to have Contessa deep strike into my cell and break my knees. That reminded me to put discount Carmen Sandiego on my shitlist. My presence on Earth Bet alone would likely be enough for her to want me dead.

The next question to answer was what appearance to take, thankfully I had a fine solution I would take the form of Prince Lothric. Gaunt, pale, haggard the very image of frailty and a perfect guise to fool the unwitting villains of Brockton Bay. With my debut planned I had time to further reflect on some other tidbits of information that had come to my attention. Perhaps the most interesting was my "Invisibility" rather than making me transparent or any other traditional forms of vanishing from sight it made me unperceivable. In other words I was able to evade anything that took in information from its surroundings.Such an ability was certainly encouraging as it effectively erased the weaknesses of my stranger ability. Any being or device that took in information from the world around them would be rendered useless.

All this time I had thought that Dragon would prove to be a worthy nemesis but now it seemed woefully inadequate. I couldn't think of a single hard counter to my abilities that couldn't be easily avoided through the use of my stranger abilities. I made sure to remind myself that genuine cockyness was unnaceptable and that I was best served by underhanded methods. Although that did forward the question of how long I could keep up the hero charade. Actually come to think of it I should be able to keep it up indefinitely considering Shadow Stalker's shenanigans. I continued to reflect and scheme up until 10:32 when my debut at eleven came to the forefront of my mind. I had a boat to catch…

After getting transported to Brockton Bay's PRT headquarters I was corralled through a series of halls leading to the backstage section of where the PRT conducted press conferences. Much to my disappointment the PRT Director's speech would be taken up by Piggot who had returned from leave. This alone was enough for me to tune out. At some point I became aware of Armsmaster making his initiating speech on the behalf of the Protectorate, he drawled on for a little while before introducing Vista. The kid walked up to the podium and went through the manufactured performance the Protectorate had set up for her. She did pretty well all things considered, those in the merchandising branch would be rubbing collective hands together over this.

Before long it was my turn to approach the podium. Assuming the form of prince Lothric I ambled forwards announcing myself in a wispy tone.

"I-I-I'm Tactile.... I can create shields and tools. Ehhhhh, my health isn't the best so I won't be seeing much action but… eh I'll do my best."

The room fell deathly silent. I'd succeeded in creating one of the worst debuts in the history of the Protectorate. The looks of the assorted heroes, PRT staffers and journalists was simple priceless, I could barely prevent myself from cracking up at just the sight. I followed up my eloquent speech by cartoonishly glancing around as if looking for a que before hurriedly hobbling away.

Backstage was Piggot herself with a face like thunder. "What the hell was that?"

At that point I cast of my disguise causing the director to almost jump out of her skin. Noticing her shock I allowed my signature grin to creep across my face in an almost taunting manner. I waited until Piggot's rage simmered to a near boiling point before answering.

"A complete and utter farce, I can't have people knowing the true extent of my abilities. Hell, I even went to the effort of pulling the sick and feeble act to cover up future covert ops using my stranger ability."

Luckily for me this pacified the director who, in a shocking turn of events, approved of my scheme if not my methods. Knowing her she was just pleased that I'd embarrassed the Protectorate and capes as a whole. This was a fine turn of events I'd be able to keep up the act and curry favour with the director. Fortuitous indeed.

The journey back to the Rig was less peaceful than the trip there. A lawyerly type, who I could only assume was Brandish, was causing a ruckus in the lobby. It seemed that she had caught on to my deception. I had taken the visage of a plain looking security guard in a suit and glasses to stay covert on my journey back. My current appearance also presented the perfect opportunity to antagonise the New Wave cape.

"Excuse me ma'am but if you don't calm down we're going to have to ask you to leave."

In return for my efforts she gave me one of the most fierce death stares I had ever encountered. Her expression only soured further when the PRT's actual security moved in to back me up. Viewing my statement as a challenge she began ranting about the expected legal code jargon and obscure regulations. In response I folded my arms behind the small of my back and cranked up my dread aura causing many of the civilians reel . Even Brandish was looking paler than normal. It would have been a good idea to test this before putting it into action.

"I think it's time for you to leave."

At that she let out a peculiar mix between a snarl and a whimper. Unfortunately my fun was interrupted by Armsmaster clapping me around the side of the head quickly followed by a "Quit messing around." Matters were only worsened by the fact that my aura cut down to its regular strength.

A hateful voice emanated from behind me "It's you!"

Upon hearing that I made a slight turn of my head and allowed my eyes natural glow to flare before snorting dismissively and continuing on my way.

Rather than heading straight back to the Rig I was taken on a detour to Brockton Bay's resident hospital. Supposedly the Protectorate suspected that there was something off about my biology. By my reckoning that meant they wanted Panacea to give me a once over and unsurprisingly I was right.

Panacea wore her usual white robes and looked half-dead on her feet. Hearing or reading about someone wasting away from fatigue was entirely different. Looking upon Panacea gave even me a pang of empathy. After Armsmaster, whom had been accompanying me, made his introductions she shambled forward before asking permission to examine me. I decided to hesitantly comply as to not cause a fuss.

After mere moments her eyes went wide in surprise. "He isn't human at all."

"I knew he was a case 53 even if he doesn't have the tattoo." Armsmaster was clearly still fixated on that theory then. I remained quiet waiting for Panacea to definitively shoot him down, he definitely needed to be knocked down a peg.

"No he isn't like the case 53s this body was never human to begin with."

I gulped at the ensuing realisation "That means biotinkering is involved, am I going to have to be quarantined again?"

Thankfully Armsmaster revealed that my previous quarantine had already proved sufficient so I wouldn't have to spend a full week in a box again. Well there goes any favour I had with Piggot and Cauldron would definitely notice this. The vision of Contessa breaking my knees came that much closer to becoming a reality. I was broken out of my introspective trance when Panacea continued her report.

"His body has many features that seem to exist purely to imitate the human body despite being almost entirely alien, I'm not sure about the intent behind him. The most curious feature is his hair it's woven throughout his entire body and its structure is entirely different to the rest of his body. Also oddly enough those threads have an approximate brute rating of nine while the rest of his body could scarcely count as a brute 0. He does have slow paced regeneration though. "

Despite the ill nature of Panacea's report I felt obligated to return the favour. Besides it served me better in the long run to not have a striker 12 go nuts in my general vicinity. I allowed my eyes glow to flare and in moments me and Panacea were alone inside her mindscape. The place was a rather fancy upper class bedroom, her manifestation was obscured inside a wardrobe of sorts. So her inner world took the shape of the day Brandish arrived on scene to ruin her life, interesting.

"What's going on? How am I back here? Where is here?"

I answered her questions in order "I'm returning the favour, you're inside an imaginary space based on your memories."

"I don't have time for this I need to help more people."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, judging by how easy it was to get in here you only had a few moments of consciousness left. Anyhow I'm here primarily to discuss your sister's shaker ability. The gist of it is that ability is slowly but surely ruining your families lives."

An audible, well technically not audible considering we were not in realspace but you get the idea, gasp emerged from the wardrobe followed by what sounded like shuffling around.

"Vicky would never do that-

"Not on purpose no but her intentions mean little at this point If nothing. Your adoptive father has ended up in a perpetual cycle of depression that will only get worse. Your adoptive mother will defy all odds and somehow wind up becoming an even bigger bitch. As for you I'd wager you can guess what's going on there."

Panacea's mindscape was darkened by a toxic mixture of embarrassment, terror and dread. The place took upon itself an eerie quality as it twisted and distorted into a near nightmare like state.

"You know don't you? How could you know?"

Well shit, I needed to create an excuse before I accidentally ticked off another box on birdcage bingo. The question was how would I in this sort of persona? Then it came "Panacea would you be so kind as to remind me where we are again?" It was perfect condescending to fit the theme I was going with while letting her plausibly fill in the blanks.

After making the realisation the dread and fear receded while her embarrassment escalated to being the dominant emotion in her mindscape.

"Well that's my cue to go, I really don't need a highlight reel of all your most embarrassing childhood memories. Sweet dreams."

Panacea

Panacea woke with a start she had patients to treat, she had to save more lives, she was at home. Was this some sort of trick on that aberration's part? Her room looked as it normally would everything was in place but that didn't prove anything she could still be inside her own mind. Before she could formulate a proper plan of action her rooms door burst open.

"Hey Ames you're finally up,"

Panacea took a moment to gather her bearings before asking "How long have I been out?"

Her sister seemed hesitant to answer which no doubt meant she'd unconscious for a long time. She hated resting for too long as it pretty much guaranteed that innocents would suffer for it.

"Ehh you've been out 16 hours."

Victoria appeared to be almost bracing herself before her sister's response. Before Panacea could respond she noticed Vicky's aura creep into the back of her mind. Then her evening devolved into an absolute shitshow. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her reflection and her eyes were glowing. That could not be a good sign. An abnormally tall figure was projected from her eyes.

He uttered a brief "Stop it," before lamping her sister round the head with a soup spoon before either of the girls could react. Then as swiftly as the light and figure had appeared they vanished seemingly without a trace.

"The hell was that? When did you gain the power to randomly summon home invaders?"

"Well I think it has something to do with this guy I met at the hospital tod- yesterday, he said that your shaker ability causes psychological damage after extended exposure. "

Before Vicky could respond Panacea's eyes began to glow again presumably in warning.
"Ok Ames I think that might be it, I'll try to hold off on my shaker power for now."

At that point her mother barged through the door. She clearly wasn't pleased.

"What's all the shouting about-

Carrol Dallon stopped in her tracks the moment she noticed the irregular glow in her adoptive daughter's eyes. Panacea didn't even get time to greet her mother before she was charged and grabbed by the collar.

"I know it's you villain what did you do with Amy?"

"Hey mom stop it you'll hurt her."

Vicky had made the mistake of drawing on her power to convince her mother to stop. As before she got a ladle to the skull as an award for her efforts. Upon seeing this Carrol began violently shaking Panacea shouting all the while. Before long the entirety of New Wave was crammed into Amy's room trying to figure out what was going on. After what an hour of shouting matches and a surprise appearance from the police peace finally returned to the Dallon household.

New Wave had found itself a new enemy, a villain Crystal had dubbed "Magic glowing spoon man". Unfortunately for them they had no idea who he was, Panacea had an inkling of how to find him but decided she would be better off not telling anyone. She could still hear the strangers words echoed through her mind "The gist of it is that ability is slowly but surely ruining your families lives." Could he be trusted though? He certainly seemed to put in the effort but she decided to reserve her judgement.



Author's Notes:
Well that wraps up Apparition, the preamble for this fic is done so we can get to wreaking havoc across Brockton Bay. Just out of interest has anyone figured out the deal with Tactile's presence on Earth Bet? There have been a few hints here and there but I fear I may have overplayed my hand this time round.

The next arc will be named Haunt and will focus on the more spooky applications of Tactile's power. Before the true nature of his power is revealed to the public there is going to be a bit of a ghost epidemic in Brockton Bay. As an aside because this came up before, Amy hasn't gained Tactile's power only the one party trick and an identity crisis.
 
Last edited:
anywhere near london?"
London
that I was a decade of the mark
off
ill will and teacher is already on
Teacher
power on and i quote
I
slaughtering the nine or
Nine
at odds with cauldron. Come
Cauldron
prisoner was upto managed
up to
I'm
Wards
being a ward is a lot of responsibility?"
Ward
but are you sure being a ward is a lot of responsibility?"
Ward
Thomas Calvert

The sow was headed out on leave and Rennick was entirely useless. As such the role of director fell to him.
-And how the hell does an external consultant manage to be above the deputy director in the chain of command?-
Rig
similar design with the edition of an added power
addition
door to warn the wards to mask
Wards
certainly has a flare for
flair
hands, its lucky I'd end
it's
of trick on that abhoration's part?
-?-
What's all the shouting about-
-"
 
Haunt 2.1-First Haunting [May 5th - May 6th]
Haunt 2.1- First Haunting [May 5th - May 6th]

The following days were mostly uneventful. I spent most of that time increasing my capacity by steadily materialising incrementally heavier weights, playing cards with Gallant and Clockblocker with some time to research the city's capes past and present. As for my position in the Wards I had the unconventional role of solo reconnaissance with covert operations mixed in. In the meantime I was alone in that role but I figured I'd be partnered with Shadow Stalker somewhere down the line.

During that time I managed to increase my capacity a considerable amount to just under 3kg, I wouldn't be throwing obelisks any time soon but progress is progress. While on the topic of power advancement I had taken care to covertly shadow Gallant during his patrols to better understand his powers. Unfortunately at that point I only had a small amount of insight into the mechanics of his ability but they proved useful. With a little trial and error foresaw that I would be able to alter my dread aura and perhaps even perform more subtle manipulations.

Now my main concern was trying to find something to occupy my time other than training. It was only the first week of May in 2009 so nothing particularly important was going to happen till December. I figured the best course of action would be to take an invisible late night stroll around the city. Brockton Bay was a city characterised by gangs of crazed parahumans, nazi's and human traffickers, surely they'd be something interesting going on.

As luck would have it, I was dead wrong. Spring of 2009 turned out to be a fairly quiet period of time where the various gangs stayed away from the Boardwalk. In all likelihood they knew that the Wards or the senior members of the Protectorate would be out patrolling. I doubt they had any fear of either party but having one die, even accidentally, would attract far too much attention. The whole scenario made for a dull working environment, I would have to make my own amusement.

The night was crisp with a welcome chill in the air, a very fitting night to be creeping about and messing with people. I had designed some custom constructs for such a situation. The primary design I had come up with was an older looking gentleman with a flat cap and matching tweeds, sure it was uninspired but effective nonetheless. Besides him I had prepared a set of other horror tropes but I had made sure to not make them over the top. I had also taken the time to add a selection of deceased capes and gangsters to my portfolio just for good measure. Sure it was in poor taste, disrespectful even but I can't say it bothered me at all.

I spend a good thirty minutes wandering the Boardwalk. I found a large amount of amusement in phasing in and out of sight at the corner of peoples vision. There was something satisfying about seeing them jump or slowly draw to the realisation that they'd seen something out of the ordinary, dismiss it then have the figure reappear clear as day. I had to make sure I kept moving around to prevent suspicion, if I stayed static the whole thing would be blamed on Leet and Über. I couldn't let those two idiots spoil the fun.


These initial stunts were fun enough but they lacked a certain cathartic quality beyond causing momentary fear. I would have to get creative in order to turn this into a regular thing. Tonight's main event would be at a certain law firm that harboured a certain unscrupulous individual. As it turned out I was in luck the person I was targeting just so happened to be working late.

I set to work locking the doors and windows to set the scene and make sure it doesn't get derailed. The stage was set, it was time for the show to begin.

Alan Barnes

His workday had been a long one, an early start and no end in sight. No doubt his wife would have nothing but abuse ready for when he finally headed home and Emma would be ready to guilt trip him the next day. Sometimes he wished he could just stay over at the firm. Ideas like that were quickly dismissed though, he had worked hard for his position. Alan had done everything he could to give his family a half decent life in this shithole of a city. If it weren't for his wife's connection to the in laws they would be long gone.

"One of us is going to wind up dead one of these days."

Despite him only murmuring to himself he got a glare from the other side of the office. He had almost forgotten that he'd ended up working late along a woman that could best be described as neurosis given flesh. Rather than pressing the issue Alan relented and whispered a hushed apology before returning to his work. An oppressive air of near silence returned to the office bar the odd disembodied click. Carol was clearly becoming agitated at the sounds. Alan could only brace himself in anticipation of his coworkers reaction.

At that point a tub of whiteboard markers tumbled to the floor halfway across the room seemingly without cause. He thought nothing of it and surely enough Carol went to clear up. After several minutes normalcy returned to the office. Before the clock hit quarter past twelve his coworker announced she would be heading out, he decided he might as well head out himself as well. The two packed away their office supplies before heading toward the door.

Carol reached for the door handle only for it to turn uselessly, had someone accidently locked them in? His coworker began anxiously turning the handle repeatedly. This was a bad sign, Alan did not want to be around when anything set off her of all people. Alan suppressed his sense of self-preservation and began attempting to console the increasingly erratic woman. Just as he seemed to be making progress the back row of lights by the door went out.

In response to this Carol, or rather Brandish at this point, lurched back into light. Alan could only think of one thing: oh shit she's got out the light axes. Then the second row of lights went dark followed by all but the lights closest to the office's whiteboard. An ominous aura billowed throughout the office as the final lights flashed revealing the words "YOU PROMISED," scrawled across the board.

Brandish had backed herself into a corner a small corona of light surrounding her. Smoke billowed into the room from the sealed windows and doors coagulating into a vaguely femenine form at the room's centre. The figure slowly increased in clarity revealing vaguely mousy features and an expression of nigh-unparalleled hatred. Alan couldn't help but scamper away into the shadows in fear, powerless to do anything. The figure advanced on the now cowering Brandish it's dreadful aura intensifying all the while.

"You… Promised."

"You… Promised. You… Promised."

"You… Promised.You… Promised. You… Promised."

"You...pr-

"What, what did I promise?"

The figure paused for a moment after Brandish's scream.

"My… daughter."

"Protect… my… daughter… YOU PROMISED!"

With that Carol's corona faded as she broke down entirely. The figure vanished, its aura retreated and light returned to the office, a sharp click sounded signifying the door unlocked itself. Alan bolted for the door leaving his coworker huddled in the corner of the office alone.

Panacea

Her mother hadn't been the same since that night. She had finally drifted home at three in the morning bedraggled and disturbed. Only her father knew the details of what happened that night and whatever had transpired seemed to trouble him deeply. Whatever had happened on that night in conjunction with what PHO had unhelpfully labeled "ゴゴゴ STANDO POWAH ゴゴゴ" had changed the Dallon household considerably. Despite being close to her sister for years Vicky had drifted away over the last week and a half going so far as to actively avoid her. Was she really so shallow as to let a mild annoyance come between them?

Her mother had undergone a change in the opposite direction becoming almost clingy. Unlike her sister she was no longer permitted out after dark and would be checked on two or three times a day to make sure she was taking time to sleep and eating right. It wasn't that she was unappreciative of the newfound concern from her mother but something about it seemed off… artificial almost. Since her mother's change in behaviour the guilt had become harder to manage.

No longer could she work day and night awaiting the sweet release of being overcome by exhaustion, her mother sought to that. It hurt thinking of all the lives that would surely flicker out while she was powerless to stop them. That wasn't the worst of it though she could feel the seeds of resentment begin to sprout for so long she'd allowed herself to be walked on without recompense and it the consequences were finally catching up to her. All the same she hated herself for it, how could she feel such things for her own family?

It had to be his fault. Everything was steady until he came along. Over the past week the "Stand" had become more clear to her its presence known to her even when unseen. The thing was only an echo yet it radiated resentment like nothing else she had ever encountered. Her own darker emotions were completely dwarfed by it. Just thinking about the sheer scale of what the original must bear was enough to send shivers down her spine. That had to be the answer she must have been influenced by it. Afterall a person surely couldn't feel such enmity, such jealousy for her own family.

Still the his unearthly shadow lingered. It had no real form when Vicky wasn't around yet it was always there. It could neither see nor hear. The only thing that would stir it into action was her sister's shaker power. Amy had no influence over it, it simply existed as a constant spectre burned into the recesses of her mind. She was disturbed from her thoughts by a knock at the door. She slowly picked herself up and made to answer the door. She was greeted by her father with a concerned expression.

"Somethings bothering you Amy, I can tell that something isn't right."

She had known this was coming, for all his flaws her father always picked up on his family's troubles even if he lacked the ability to solve them.

"Shouldn't you focus on yourself? You've got of problems of your own."

Her father let out a deep sigh. "It can't always be about me Amy we all have problems and some of them can't be dispelled by a few pills."

"You shouldn't play it down like that dad. It's just that everyones been acting so weirdly Vicky has been avoiding me and mom just hasn't been herself, I don't understand."

"Caro- Your mother is dealing with a lot right now she means well, there isn't much that can be done on that front at the moment just bear with her. As for Vicky we could try getting rid of Crystal's so called 'Magic glowing spoon man' I'm sure we could sort it out with the protectorate."

"Thanks dad."

She and her father were waiting for their scheduled appointment with Tactile in a PRT waiting room while he was shipped over from the Rig. The idea of someone rummaging around in her head again was daunting to say the least. Even her father was a little nervous meeting the cape he knocked out on their last meeting and asking for a favour no less. He went so far as to describe Tactile as a "Pretty scary sounding guy," considering his long career as Flashbang that was definitely a bad sign.

The pair were rather lost for words when the man himself strode in without so much as an inkling of hesitation and greeted them cordially. He lead the two of them into a meeting room, it had the typical faded yellow walls and green carpet one would expect from such a place. "So what brings you to me? I don't often get requests to meet. Is it about her shaker ability? "

"Cut to the chase we're here about that projection you placed in my daughters head."

Tactile inclined his head seemingly in confusion before mulling over Flashbang's words. After a few moments of deliberation he perked up suddenly interested. "Wait a projection I don't remember doing or even being able to do anything like that without being present, you've piqued my interest." It wasn't quite the response they were waiting for but it could have been worse.

Tactile ushered her to lay on the office's table so that he could quote unquote "Check under the bonnet," Her father seemed about ready to intervene before Tactile elaborated that he didn't want her falling over.

"Alright before we start I want to just straight up say no innuendos this is awkward enough as it is."

The room fell silent for just short of a minute as two of them stood awkwardly over her. "What's the hold up are we starting or what?"

"You aren't dead on your feet this time kid I'll need to be invited into your mind. That is unless you need me to do some magic tricks instead."

That wasn't particularly helpful, how was she supposed to invite someone into her mind? Then it struck her the last thing he had said last time was "Well that's my cue to go, I really don't need a highlight reel of all your most embarrassing childhood memories. Sweet dreams." so it stood to reason that emotional distress would create an opening. Although she knew it would be a painful memory to revisit she momentarily focused on her trigger event.

"Great job I'm back in this room and your back in the- eh nevermind. Well this is a weird turn of events. You've kept behind an imprint of me. So that's how it works eh… uh well shit."

"Cut the cryptic shit already, can you fix it?"

He gave her a sullen expression "No I can't get rid of it, something like this would require you letting it go. You've tied up all your frustration and resentment to create it. In order to destroy it you'll need to sort your emotions out. I'm not willing to even try something like that, I'm not Heartbreaker."

She seethed with anger this really was all his fault and he wasn't willing to fix it. What the hell was wrong with him? He was so ready to just wonder when they first met but got cold feet at the first sign of an issue. How pathetic could this guy get?

"That, my dear, is what we call hypocrisy if you think it's so easy to mess around with people's brains why don't you fix yourself?"

She was at a loss for words, she couldn't make a retort against something like that. However, she wasn't willing to give up on the argument so she decided to loop back to an earlier gripe to get out of the argumentative corner shed found herself in. "You're awfully condescending aren't you how can you call me a kid while still being wards age huh?"

"I called you a kid because you act like a child, functional adults don't create imaginary boyfriends to beat up their siblings."

At that her confidence drained. Why did he have to phrase it like that?

"Gross, you could at least wait for me to leave before you steam the place u-

"No,no.. Eew, no I'm out."

Tactile

Note to self: never do that again. There was something seriously wrong with seeing someone look at you in that light from their perspective. It was icky beyond belief. To make things worse, I was pretty sure I'd made another cape rated beyond 12 a lifelong enemy. Now I'd have to worry about Contessa breaking my knees repeatedly with Panacea healing them each time. What a surprise living in Worm sucks.

"So did it work?"

Oh I'd forgotten about Flashbang, "No it's not something I can do anything about but on your end you could get a psychiatrist and sort out that home environment of yours."

Flashbang of course took exception to this spouting the usual crap about how everything was my fault and how I had a duty to sort everything out.

"Even if I could get rid of it the root cause would still remain, she'll be out for about an hour this time. I'm leaving before I get leered at by your creepy daughter again. I may be a bizarre freak of nature but that isn't license to stare."

As I headed back to the Rig I thought to myself: solutions really do beget more problems and some of those problems are images of exactly what Panacea considered to fit the description of "boyfriend". Her behaviour later down the line with Victoria now made a great deal more sense given her notions of what makes a healthy relationship. The human subconscious is truly a disgusting thing. I expected to get mauled by Dragon or Contessa but instead I get this. At the very least my own days of being human were behind me.


Author's Notes:
When it comes to the tone of this fic I would like to point out that I'm not making a fix fic. The state of things will get invariably worse for many characters but it'll have its fair share of goofy moments as well. All things considered goofy moments are unavoidable with Tactile as the MC.

Anyhow, I'm not done with the whole christmas Carol thing with Brandish, if you pardon the pun, Kaiser will also be getting some grief by the end of the ark as well. One last note on Tactile's perpective, due to those sections being narrated directly by him you should expect the occasional dropped letter or unusual prose.

On the topic of this chapter's direction in the overall plot, this chapter is mostly about establishing Tactile as a character and showing what he does when turned loose on Brockton Bay. For the fic as a whole this latter chapters of this arc are where the "Wheels" start to get moving.
 
Haunt 2.2- Amongst the living [May 9th- May 15th]
Haunt 2.2- Amongst the living [May 9th- May 15th]

Outside of my occasional nightly activities there was plenty to keep me occupied during the day. In the first few weeks of May, the name of the game was subterfuge. Although the attack wasn't due for another two years I was making my first preparations. Silly as it may seem my little plot hinged around Vista's birthday celebrations. I was working to set up a plain clothes picnic over on Captain's hill with the intent of making it an annual event.

Captain's Hill was a suitable location, far enough from danger but close enough to keep an eye on the action. A great location to watch the ocean man pop open the aquifers. Fortunately for me Gallant had really taken to the idea and had agreed to organise the whole thing. Although this did have one drawback in that I had to take his shift for the day. A small price to pay for what I was getting out of it really. The whole set-up gave me ample opportunity to pull of my little scheme and along with it curry favour from the other Wards.

The patrol I was covering was in the day so I'd have to go about business as feeble prince Lothric. At the very least this would be an opportunity to improve my melee skills though I'd prefer not to use them in an actual fight. It seemed that I was a much faster walker than Gallant as I'd finished the patrol route before I was half way through the shift. With a good hour and a half to burn I found myself a vantage point to overlook the general area and made my way up by creating a series of narrow platforms with my ability, dropping my disguise to properly focus on them. I must have looked like a proper cape stood up there overlooking the city.

I certainly wasn't expecting to be whisked off my feet and dragged 40 odd feet into the air but then again few people would. It seemed the older Dallon sister had business with me. "I'd recognise that creepy aura anywhere. How did you get out of PRT custody? "

I had to act the part of the weak child I'd played in my debut anxious stammer and all "W..h.hat do you mean I'm a Ward with the Protectorate?"

Much to my displeasure it would seem that Glory Girl didn't take any note of cape related news. "You think I'm stupid don't you? I won't let you pull that kind of shit on me."

Needless to say this was bad news for me being dropped 12 meters would be quite an ordeal for your average person or anyone without a brute rating really. I however had countermeasures prepared in the form of a series of short falls facilitated by specially constructed platforms. While I wouldn't need a trip to A and E I'd certainly have bruises later. I took the time opened up by my fall to signal for backup, I wouldn't be able to win without lethal force and that just wasn't in the cards.

Glory Girl didn't stop with just that though, this would be an extended confrontation where I'd have to work without illusions or my construct. This engagement would be more a matter of damage control than victory. I felt a wicked grin spread across my face upon realising that I could still alter her perception so long as the public didn't notice it. I just so happened to have a little something for the situation, I had planned on using it to evade torture but it would apply here just fine. An empathic pain link, who needs to bear all those aches and pains when your attacker can do it for you?

Despite the benefits of resorting to such techniques, I was personally averse to using them. Physical pain and it's indicators are something I found to be unsightly. The other issue is that I'd have to take a beating to make it all convincing but this was a path to improve my standing with the Wards. I could also get New Wave into legal trouble over this, a worthy investment to be sure. Having them out of the way or at least restrained would make proceedings easier in the long run.

So back to the matter at hand, Glory Girl has almost no real talent in combat I should expect cartoonish showy attacks. Don't get me wrong I was hardly the most accomplished fighter myself but between lessons In my past and MIss Malitia's contribution I should be able to out-skill this particular foe. To stay in character I'd have to use a weapon of some sort, I had the perfect candidate in mind.

"The historic claymore weighed an estimated 2.8 killograms putting it well within my range, today it will be your opponent."

Without a word she surged forward just as she had done on the night we met, it seemed that she hadn't learned her lesson, I effortlessly side-stepped her motion and drove my blade's pommel directly into her skull. If it weren't for those pesky force fields that would have been the end of her then and there but alas that was not to be. She clipped my shoulder with her elbow sending me flying right into the side of some poor bystander's van. As the aluminium at my back crumpled she let a belated gasp before ever so slightly stumbling.

Good to know my anti-torture ability worked as intended. Moments later I felt her aura clumsily encroach upon me, it seemed she was trying to regain the adoration of the crowd. This I simply could not allow. It was time for my own aura to take centre stage. My typical dread aura wasn't suited to this situation so I instead poured doubt and uncertainty into it. The New Wave cape's aura effectively collapsed in the face of my own, the crowds arduous support of Glory Girl faded leaving her clearly demoralised.

The time had come for me to peel myself off the floor and make a real stand. Needless to say the upstart cape took umbrage with this. Rather than charging as she had done previously she leapt into the air. At that point she was practically asking to be skewered so I adjusted my stance and held my sword aloft. As expected I managed to nail her right in the gut. It didn't leave even a scratch but she still crumpled from the blow, safe to say one of her shields were down.

Obviously I couldn't use lethal force in this scenario but I still needed to prevent her from beating the shit out of me. In other words it was shanking time thanks to Panacea I wouldn't have to be too careful. As she rose to her feet I slipped a small conjured blade just under her bottom right rib. I had been correct about her shield dropping.

Despite being in the process of bleeding out she still wasn't done. I was once again hoisted up into the air only to be thrown up toward the heavens after making a second incision. Matters were only made worse by the sudden arrival of Laserdream who grabbed me by the ankle and swung me toward the ground. At least this time it would be Glory Girl enjoying the bruise cruise as I flopped from one platform to another. The pain of the fall was enough to finally down my initial enemy for at least a little while.

The ensuing fight between me and Laser Dream was to be a short one, she easily pinned me down and was far too agile for me land a blow. The relatively weak shielding she possessed had forced her to become a far more skilled fighter than her younger cousin. Luckily for me I still had my empathic pain link in play so she stopped upon realising Glory Girl was bearing the brunt of her attacks.

Speaking of Glory Girl she was back on her feet again, charging at me once more. At this point I was moments away from dropping all pretense. My secrecy was important but not more so than my life. As luck would have it, I wouldn't have to. A heavily armoured figure intercepted Glory Girl, grabbing a hold of her shoulders and digging his heels into the tarmac.

"Gee Tactile I ask you to cover one patrol, how did you end up fighting a third of New Wave?"

At that point I could see the colour drain from Glory Girl's face. This couldn't have turned out better for me. Glory Girl has definitely been knocked down a peg, the look on her and Laserdeam's faces had been priceless and, perhaps most importantly, this would likely endear me to Gallant.

"I think it started when Glory Girl dropped me from 40 feet in the air, she didn't seem to care that I'm a member of the Wards."

I could practically hear his scowl when he mentioned that the matter would be resolved later. For the moment he instructed us to head toward the hospital with him supporting me and Laserdream hoisting Glory Girl into the air for transport. Me and Gallant took a considerable amount of time to actually get over to the hospital due to my injuries. As a result of the experience Glory GIrl was teetering on the edge of consciousness from the pain of my broken body. Panacea was definitely not going to be happy when we eventually showed up.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks and now you roll up with a punctured lung and a ruptured diaphragm, to make matters worse you brought him with you."

The only response Panacea received was a low groan.

While the two sisters were occupied I was left with Gallant. We engaged in a little idle chatter through our comms mostly party business with questions about the earlier fight sprinkled here and there. It was a good 20 minutes before Panacea was done putting her sister through the ringer so Glory Girl was pretty down about the situation. Then Gallant went after her as she tried to leave as protocol demanded that he detain her. I couldn't help but smile at the idea of the awkward conversation that would result in. I was once again left with Panacea, hopefully this interaction would be less awkward than the last one.

"Do I have permission to heal you?"

"Sure I'm not going to say no to a speedy recovery. Just as an aside don't try anything sneaky, your sister will experience the kick-back of anything underhanded you try."

She didn't seem appreciative of my comments but began her task all the same pausing momentarily to let me open my visor which was thankfully undamaged. Upon touching what was vaguely equivalent to flesh she gasped.

"So my family managed to break 9 ribs, every bone in your hands and wrists, tear every muscle in your limbs and a whole assortment of muscles throughout your torso. If it wasn't for that brute 8 spaghetti in your system you'd be dead, not to mention the pain."

"Ah you needn't be worried about that I already mentioned that I outsourced it to your sister."

After giving me a brief confused stare It appeared that Panacea thought it better not to ask.

As it happened Glory Girl was let off with a mere warning. No doubt Piggot's doing. I suppose this was "Muh status quo" in action. There was no use in making a fuss about it though, pressing the issue would only damage my own standing.

The 15th approached rapidly, Gallant had done an excellent job preparing the whole outing. It was strange to be out in jeans and a simple polo shirt again since my arrival I'd almost always been in my costume, pyjamas or my old prison jumpsuit. I had made sure to bring some sunglasses with me as well, even in a new body I still didn't take well to the sun. As expected Chariot was absent but rather than it being for asshole reasons as I had expected, it was due to someone smashing into his father's van while he was inside. For whatever reason this had sent him over the edge, prompting him to go on indefinite leave.

After taking that into consideration I had taken a new guise for the day, it was nothing too special but a decent enough departure from my usual form to be worthy of mention. It could be summed up as an older less attractive Dean with a few changes here and there. At least this way there would be fewer strange looks. The next issue to address was a civilian identity they couldn't exactly call me Tactile in public.

So it was left to me, Dean and Carlos to come up with a name before the fithteenth. Carlos wasn't much help stating that he wasn't good with names. A few names were thrown back and forth between us but nothing seemed to stick. At one point Carlos went to ask Armsmaster about it to little avail. Miss Militia recommended the name Khial, it had an odd spelling but still wasn't a very good fit. In the end up I was named by those two pensioners from the Youth Guard who eventually agreed on Hadrian. It was serviceable enough as far as names go and I was bored of trying to come up with one myself so I agreed to it.

Carlos, Dean and of course Vista made it to Captain's hill just fine so overall not much was lost. We must have looked a right odd bunch considering our apparent ages two sixteen year olds along with a child and me. My apparent age was a point of contention at the Protectorate with people making estimates anywhere between late teens to early forties though according to Panacea I was only five or six weeks old. Unlike the other estimates I was pretty sure Panacea was wrong on this one.

We spend most of the day talking about nothing in particular with the occasional mention of school and popular reality shows. I couldn't contribute much on the latter but I did share a few of the dumb stories I could still remember from my old life. That seemed to pique their interest and the conversation increasingly drifted toward me.

Surprisingly, they had a great deal of interest in a purely mundane world. The idea of a world where capes were nothing more than fiction completely bewildered them. Dean asked a large amount of questions about the state of the world and how events had diverged. Carlos had more of a focus on how things had been day-to-day back in my hometown.

"So even without villains running around everything would still be a mess, that's depressing."

That prompted Dean to chip in "Come on Carlos we're at a birthday, don't put a damper on things."

After a few seconds of what appeared to be brooding Carlos responded with "Yeah, my bad." Past that point everything devolved back into mindless chatter until lunch where it was replaced by the expected meal time formalities. At first they voiced concern at the fact I didn't eat much; that was dismissed fairly soon though after I explained that I didn't actually have to eat at all. Biotinker stuff is weird.

Overall it was a pretty relaxing day for the four of us even if it wasn't particularly to my tastes. Whilst seeing the three of them I came to a decision I'd put in at least a little effort to keep them alive. Sure I wasn't particularly close to them and it was in my nature to keep my distance yet I still wanted to keep them around. It seems I still had some weakness left from the old days. Those times were long gone and I needed to be stronger than ever considering the upcoming challenges. At least by maintaining this whim of mine I'll be able to figure out how to eventually overcome it.

Lady Photon
With her sister experiencing certain difficulties New Wave's disciplinary functions fell to her. She wasn't at all suited to the role either despite being the unofficial leader she didn't have the same fearsome edge. As chance would have it New Wave's largest incident since Fleur's murder happened within weeks of Brandish stepping back. Two of the membership had attacked one of the Wards without any provocation no less. At the very least her sister had managed to pull enough strings to avoid any convictions.

"Victoria, Crystal what exactly did you think you were doing?"

Before Victoria could so much as utter a word her daughter blurted out her answer. "I saw Vicky and she was fighting and she was bleeding anditwasourarchnemesis-

" So you came to her aid then… I'll deal with you later."

That left her in the room with her niece. Vicktoria was New Wave's problem child, every time there were legal problems for the team it revolved around her. If she weren't family she would have been expelled from team activities a long time ago.

"On top of publicly embarrassing New Wave and attracting the attention of the authorities you nearly got yourself killed. Give me one reason you shouldn't dismissed from hero work."

"Nearly got myself killed? You know better than that aunt Sarah I can't be hurt, especially not by a weakling like him."

Lady Photon had to let out a frustrated sigh at that comment, was Victoria living in her own little world. "There's no use in trying that nonsense I've already spoken to your sister about it. You were very clearly injured during that confrontation, if all that blood is anything to go by. That reminds me, I have to cover your raging incompetence, Tactile had no visible way of harming you yet it seems you thought belly flopping onto a sword at double the speed limit was the best course of action."

At that her niece fell silent.

"I don't even think I have to explain why I'm withdrawing you from any cape business until further notice. As you are now you're just a liability."

Vicktoria didn't take well to this at first begging before storming off in a rage. Despite Victoria's reaction Lady Photon felt assured that her decision was the right one. She couldn't allow her niece to endanger the rest of the family.


Author's Notes:
Finally getting round to putting one of the schemes mentioned in passing during the first few chapters.I thought it best to set just a little something in motion way in advance.

On the subject of the fight scene I wanted to show what Tactile is capable of without his illusions and better demonstrate how he can utilise his perception warping abilities. Also, I thought it was about time for Glory Girl to get some troubles for being so reckless.The next chapter will be about Brandish's second ghostly visit and mark the first excursion into the Ander's household.
 
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That seems to be a strange thing to take issue with, it isn't really unusual for vehicles to have aluminium body panels. Would it not make more sense to highlight it in yellow?
-Aluminum is not a normal material for vehicles. It is something like two thirds the strength of steel at equal size but around half the weight. The real reason not to use aluminum is that it is much more expensive than steel at around 1800 $us vs 800 $us for steel.
As for the color, I HATE the new color grid. On mobile it is pure luck on if you hit the right one.-
 
Haunt 2.3-Return to the shadows [May 17th]
Haunt 2.3-Return to the shadows [May 17th]

I had kept a close eye on Brandish over the previous weeks. It seems my staged visit from Mrs Lavere had been a little much for her considering she had become a complete recluse in matters not involving her adopted daughter. Though I was loathed to provide any assistance to one such as her I deemed it a necessary evil to keep Panacea from losing it. If such a situation did occur I'd have to put her down. It would also provide ample opportunity to test the veracity of my research into the city's capes. This time around I'd be imitating someone rather important to my victim.

This time round I was planning on making a much bigger show of the whole thing, smoke and existential dread weren't going to cut it this time. I needed to recreate a lost loved one, this would require precision along with more subtle manipulations. A vital part of my plan was its staging, a significant amount of effort had been placed into the timing of this operation. I would have 21 minutes until sunrise. Whilst this was an artificial constraint it would be well worth the effort.

After making my preparations I headed out into the night. I started with my usual preliminary pranks on thugs , it wasn't strictly necessary but it's always wise to warm up before the main event. I slowly snaked my way toward the Dallon's household, it wouldn't make sense to get there too early. There was a crisp chill in the air with a slight breeze, a perfect environment for what I was about to do. With that the stage was set, it was time for the show to begin.

Brandish

She awoke to a room split between light and darkness. Normally the room's lights would have been left on overnight but this night they were suspiciously off. What caught her eye more was the vibrant luminous water lilies placed upon every available surface their rich pink light illuminating the room. Rather than feeling fear at the darkness the atmosphere was snug and nostalgic. She made sure to avoid waking her husband as she sat up in bed. As she arose from her bed two snaking lines of lilies stretched to the door forming a path. Placing a foot on the bedroom floor sent a luminous ripple out from the first point of contact causing the path of lillies to bob as if on the surface of a pond.

Upon entering the hall leading to the stairway more flowers appeared to light her way not banishing the darkness but robbing it of its power over her. It was as if she could shrug off all her problems in that soothing light. Was this salvation from the vile creature from that night? She couldn't help but pause at the path leading to her front door. Even if this was the work of a hostile cape or the very edge of her sanity she needed to see this through.

Upon opening the front door she was greeted with a sight she couldn't have expected, stood at the end of her garden stood Jessica radiant as she was in her prime. That moment hung for a seemingly inordinate amount of time all she could do was stare at Jess' melancholic smile. After what seemed like an eternity Jess finally approached her leaving a path of lilac ripples in her wake.

"It's been a long time Carol, too long."

"How can you be here? Why-"
She was cut off by a dejected glance. "This isn't about me, it's about you Carol. I'm afraid I can't dwell here for long so I must be brief. You need to take care of yourself this can't go on."

Carol wasn't sure how she should respond, what does one say to a loved one long dead?

"It seems that Mrs Lavere had a profound effect on you, perhaps a little too much so. I won't pretend that the way things before her… intervention were right but this is hardly much better. Taking better care of Amy won't do any good if you neglect everyone else. Being a recluse won't get you anywhere and I'm certainly not going to sit idly by while you waste away."

Silence fell once more within the yard with neither occupant making any attempt to speak once more. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon provoking Jess to grab a hold of Carol's shoulders in an unearthly deathgrip. Her eyes suddenly became frantic, time was running out. Carol couldn't help but gasp as the apparition's grip tightened around her shoulders. All doubt faded from her mind, what she was seeing could not possibly be an hallucination there genuinely was someone or rather something in front of her.

"We're running out of time Carol. Sort yourself out, get therapy whatever it takes, you'll die if you keep this up. "

Before Carol could utter so much as a word a wave of tranquility washed over Jess, her hands released the shoulders they had so tightly clasped in a single moment and she began to drift away to the far side of the yard. As the sun rose above the Dallon family Jess' form became transparent and a melancholic smile spread across her face.

"Take care of yourself Carol, I don't want to be seeing you anytime soon," and with that she was gone leaving Carol alone to watch the sunrise.

Tactile

Needless to say I was somewhat underwhelmed the night's performance. My staging had been near perfect with the strategically placed water lilies and of course the sunrise but the more human aspect of the ruse fell flat. Thankfully Brandish was sleep deprived and mentally all over the place so I doubted that she'd find anything suspect. I would have to work at the interpersonal aspects of a haunting before attempting any more spooky therapy sessions. On a separate note, I'll have to reuse those water lilies again, it would be a waste not to reuse some of my best work.

The trip back to the Rig was uneventful, few people were up and about at a quarter to six. A tired boat ride later I arrived back home if I could really call it that. Once I made my way back to the room adjoined to the Ward's quarters. I spend the time between changing into my pyjamas and finally drifting off to sleep contemplating how to improve my future hauntings.

The following day began with a visit from merchandising who were apparently concerned with my lack of marketability. Apparently the merchandise wasn't selling. Honestly you never think of this sort of thing as an onlooker. Naturally the Protectorate wanted to recuperate the cost of my wages. The marketing employee had a keen interest in my sparring match with Miss Militia weeks prior. That was how I ended up in a recording studio to commit interdimensional copyright violations. I best hope that Cauldron doesn't have a partnership with UMG. Although judging by how nonchalant the employee and his workmates were about the whole thing I could assume that not to be the case. It then occurred to my that I was thinking absolute shite, staying up early to spook Brandish had taken a toll on my sleep the night before. I may not have needed sleep anymore but a lack of it still took its toll.

A few minutes of washing away the anger later and the merchandising department had been satiated for the most part anyway, no doubt they'd be back for more at a later date. With that done I could finally return to catch up on my sleep. After a time I finally awoke feeling well rested. I didn't have patrol until sundown. This in mind I decided to scout out the ABB I figured that my ability to seemingly change my appearance would make the matter rather trivial. After strolling on down to ABB turf I spent a short time looking at the faces of passersby. Nominally this wouldn't be necessary but I wanted to get a better idea of the general facial structure of the people in the area, my background hadn't exactly given me much material to work with. After spending a few hours invisible studying faces and how they moved I finally conjured up a construct I was happy with.

I made the construct roughly 5'6 and slight with mostly non-descript features other than a few smile lines around the eyes. I clothed it in a familiar checked red and navy flannel along with plain jeans, the sort of thing I would have worn before arriving in Brockton Bay. I was unsure about what footwear to use but eventually opted for beige construction boots. The only thing left to was give my new construct a name. My thought process was to give him a ridiculous name that would be remembered even if his appearance was not. In a moment I was struck with inspiration, a name no one would forget Andy Coddlesworth. Perfect nobody in law enforcement would belive such a dumb name so my construct could double for more… shady activities.

I soon found my way to an establishment operated by the ABB in record time. A seedy bar with tacky decorations. I spent some time socialising around the place to avoid any suspicion. While I was there I reasoned that I should procure a chemical I'd likely need later on. The Empire likely wouldn't have what I was looking for on hand and the Merchants wouldn't have anything of sufficient quality. The ABB on the other hand would likely have pretty good knockout agents considering their primary source of income. Such chemicals would prove to be essential in the event of facing anyone with a brute rating.

I was surprised to learn how lax the ABB's security was, I was able to acquire my quarry almost immediately. It was rather disappointing really but one cannot argue with the result. The guy I presumed to be the ABB branch head was happy to do business with me scarcely giving off a reaction at the peculiar name I had concocted. When asked about what I needed a knockout agent for I claimed to be a courier before warning him that the Wheeliebinner was in town and that he best keep an eye out for organ traffickers. Much to my surprise he thanked me for my warning and added in a little extra agent with my order. I was rather pleasantly surprised by this so rather than using illusory currency as I had planned, I paid up in real cash. Call me sentimental but I appreciate politeness.

The Wheeliebinner would make his debut in the coming weeks, for now though the rumour alone would prove to be sufficient. That aside I still had one more haunt on the schedule It was time to make my way to Empire territory. After spending my afternoon hanging around with my new ABB buddies night had come to Brockton Bay. The time had come for me to take the form of shitty nazi Gilgamesh and take a trip down to the Anders household. To clarify, I made sure to stay concealed until my arrival. With that the stage was set, it was time for the show to begin.

Kaiser

Max had been having a poor time of it as of late. His marriage was heading down hill and Lung had put a stop to his hopes of expanding his empire. The state of affairs was only made worse when his evening of red wine and historical dramas was interrupted by a thick fog billowing underneath his front door and windows. His tv set cut off abruptly. Along with it came a fell voice permeating through the air calling his name, a voice that was all too familiar. One that he had never expected to hear again. The voice became progressively louder as a pillar of fog accumulated at the centre of the room slowly taking a humanoid shape.

"Maximillion."

"Maximillion."

"Maximillion."

"God dammit answer me boy!"

At the point of his outburst the figure became solid and defined, his thunderous voice still echoing unnaturally throughout the penthouse. The figure wore heavy armour up to his neck emblazoned with the decals of the Empire and the Reich. The figure's countenance was severe, aged and complemented by an angular pointed beard. The figure's storm grey eyes bore into him, tempests swirling on his irises.

Max couldn't help but shrink into himself before the gravitas of his father "Hello… father it's been too long."

"Address me properly boy!"

"Eh..sorry Sir I didn't mean anything by it."

Upon hearing this the ghostly apparition of his father took a seat across from him elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together.

"It would have been better if your sister had lived, I'll be frank you're a disappointment Maximillion. Your marriage is crumbling, the Empire has scarcely made any progress from how it was in my day and you've let half the city be overrun by orientals. At the very least you've managed to find yourself a woman and had yourself some children of good breeding, even if the marriage won't last. If you can hold the organisation together for long enough perhaps your successor will be more up to the-

Max had reached the end of his patience and thus made an attempt to interject. He was shut down almost immediately. It was all he could do to brace himself for the upcoming tirade from his spectral father. A part of him hoped that someone, anyone would intervene and save him. In this moment he was no longer one who could be counted amongst the strong. In this moment of vulnerability he was weak. Thankfully his unvoiced were answered when Kayden drifted into the room to complain about the noise. In an instant the fog and the spectre vanished.
 
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Haunt 2.4- Blood-stained alleyways [June 2nd]
Haunt 2.4- Blood-stained alleyways [June 2nd]

Following my outing to the Ander's household, the second half of May quickly gave way to June. I had done relatively little of interest during this time other than my patrols. There wasn't too much for me to do. During this time a few interesting events had gone on without my direct involvement. String Theory had been birdcaged just as expected which was good to hear, I didn't want to have to deal with magic moon guns or whatever she had been cooking up. Also Kaiser had been through his divorce, from what I can remember it seemed to be a little earlier than cannon but I couldn't say for sure.

The night patrol on the second of June however broke this dull spell rather abruptly. I really couldn't have expected the events that would transpire that night. My patrol had been a rather standard affair at first, I finished up early as per usual and made my way to a vantage point. Unlike I had been on my early patrols I was visible. Piggot established a rule stating I must be publicly visible at some point during my patrols so people would feel safer. I had my visor open to take in the night air, I had taken the precaution of shrouding my features in darkness to avoid being unmasked, of course. I had left my eyes visible though and in the darkness they seemed to shine brighter than ever painting quite the intimidating sight for any would be criminals on the boardwalk.

The relative peace of the night was broken when I spotted an obscured figure darting around the alleyways below. The figure was clearly using some form of breaker or stranger ability appearing to me as a faint light within a shadowy silhouette. The sight had disturbed me deeply. To my knowledge at the time there wasn't supposed to be any strangers other than myself in the entirety of Brockton Bay. Perhaps this was just some unknown cape who happened to pass through the Bay unnoticed, it wouldn't be a strange feat for someone with such a powerset. Whilst I was still reassuring myself the figure came to a halt looking up toward me.

At this point the paranoia kicked in. My thoughts immediately went to Cauldron, I knew they'd be consequences for stepping all over the path to victory by merely existing, perhaps that time had finally come. My mind fixated on the idea that the figure was an assassin of some sort here to remove me from this Earth Bet one way or another. Scarcely a moment later my mind had focused on a combat strategy. I could be almost certain that the figure believed they were undetected, a factor I could use to my advantage. Brushing my fears and doubts aside I steeled myself for the upcoming confrontation. Whoever this stranger was they would greet the dawn in a cell or layed out in the morgue.

Cauldron's agent was clearly more than a little on edge just looking on me. They had been taken in by the various illusions I had conjured around me. To them I must have seemed like some sort of monster out of an urban legend. That sort of impression and the thought patterns associated were just about the worst state of mind the stranger could of possibly had when confronting a foe akin to myself. The situation brought about a sort of compulsion. Amusement bubbled up from deep within my mind, along with it came a pair of words that had to be said.

"Third Lattice!"

?????


She had spent the night pilfering wallets from junkies and dealers. They certainly didn't deserve them, so what was the issue with taking them? It would certainly make her life more comfortable. This was something she indulged in on many nights when her mother and whatever boyfriend she had around were arguing. Nothing had ever gone wrong before, It wasn't as if any of the city's capes or the authorities could hold her to account. It was on a warm June night that she witnessed something unprecedented, a pair of vibrant glowing eyes surveying the back alleys. The figure they belonged to scarcely seemed to move at all only twitching slightly to adjust the angle of its vision. The figure didn't even appear to breathe.

Stepping closer to get a closer look prompted a wave of dread to roll over her. Whatever it was it wasn't right. It was out of place. It didn't belong. It was wrong. As nausea began to roll over her the profound sense of wrongness and disquiet only waxed. For the first time in her nightly outings she felt the urge to run.

As if on cue the figure's head turned in a jolting motion to look directly at her. It's eyes bore into her their light exuding absolute terror. She was almost overcome with the urge to collapse. It was all she could do just to close her eyes and bolt in the other direction. Even with her eyes closed the unearthly light still pierced her psyche, the mere memory of them enough to stain her very soul. An unearthly metallic screech rang throughout the back alley, bringing with it a terror that eclipsed the sight of his eyes entirely. As she ran through the network of narrow streets and alleys, she quickly became aware that she was passing the same tipped over bins, the same obscene graffiti over and over. It was quickly becoming apparent that she couldn't escape.

Frantic, she attempted to instead run in the direction that the figure had stood in an attempt to escape the apparent loop. Her efforts once again proved fruitless. At this point she was tiring without making any progress yet still she continued. Eventually slowing to an exhausted shamble she saw them once more. Those lights slicing through the darkness. The figure had defied all logic and appeared not behind but in front of her. In the state she was in, she couldn't fathom how he had evaded her in the hours she had been running. She reasoned that whatever the monster following her was it moved slowly. That being noted she should have three back alleys to escape through. The same horrific sensation enveloped her once more only worse than before.

Turning to move in the opposite direction she was met by those same eyes. The creature whatever it was stood in all but one direction. She was left with only a single avenue of escape. Mustering up the little energy she had left she ran down the third alley. Her last attempt at escape came to a swift end as she ran into an unseen barrier. She fell to the ground and saw no more.

Tactile
The chase had finally come to an end. I had quite the time tricking the would be assassin into running in circles like a rat in a trap. After a while the novelty eventually wore off. That aside I made sure to keep it up until the cape had reached the point of exhaustion. I hadn't expected them to be defeated by what boiled down to an illusory flatscreen in front of a wall but who was I to complain? Looking toward the spot where the mystery assailant turned prey had taken a tumble I saw that they were bleeding heavily from the back of the head. I wasn't sure if they were alive or dead until their body became visible all but confirming their death.

I had made my first kill albeit not a particularly exciting one. To describe the feeling of taking a life it is… underwhelming to say the least. Their wasn't a grand moment of shock and horror followed by throwing up or anything of the sort. A small part of my felt in a way disappointed. The act of taking a life seemed to be massively exaggerated, in reality it wasn't that much different from a menial chore. Although that said, the fact that there surely wouldn't be any legal consequences likely played into that. How could they prove anything that had transpired anyway.

There was however, definitely something cathartic about disposing of your would-be assassin with such ease. As foolish as the whole thing was, I couldn't help but break into a little soliloquy of sorts. I went on a tirade about Cauldron not making anymore attempts on me with a few jabs at them here and there about their general incompetence and lousy operatives. After I got that out of my system it was back to business.

I had my construct inspect the body. It was much smaller than the shadow I'd seen running around suggested, clearly a child. The corpse wore an impromptu grey horned mask that provided little to no real protection. Removing the mask revealed an african-american teenager or perhaps she was younger than she appeared. The hunch that she was younger was odd and prompted the feeling that I had missed something crucial but I couldn't quite place my finger on what. Noticing a highlight in the corpse's hair I couldn't help but quip.

"So she was stealing my gimmick and my colour, It's probably best that I eliminated this one early on; it'll save a load of people a lot of confusion later."

My mind then turned to the disposal of the body. I wouldn't have to worry about leaving any DNA traces around the place with my costume's stealth features in play so the question was; what narrative to paint? Considering the poor victim's ethnicity the solution was obvious, the Empire would be taking the fall for this. The first step to that would be to rough up the body somewhat. I had my construct morph its form to own a few more arms each with a different fist, some being counterparts to others and some being unique. In the other original hand I formed my creation a standard metal pipe. Before getting down to the grisly business I couldn't help but lament "To think Cauldron would use operatives so young." As if on cue the alleyway was illuminated by an unfamiliar light.

"Never you mind she wasn't one of our operatives but as a courtesy we'll deal with the body."

Acting instinctively I flung myself back into the shadows not that the action would help me at all against this foe. For perhaps the first time since my release I felt genuine fear for the horror that was no doubt behind me. I would be lucky to escape this confrontation alive.

Contessa

The upstart cape really lived up to his reputation as an eerie bastard. Scarcely a moment after her surprise arrival he had flooded her surroundings with a thick black smoke and placed a single purple orb in the centre of a vortex that approximated her height. It would take more than simple tricks such as that to unnerve her, she knew his capabilities all too well even if he was able to partially evade her at times. She knew of at least some of the hidden knowledge he had squirrelled away, most importantly she knew that he feared her. He was going to make an attempt to intimidate her whilst feigning confidence, he had little hope of success that much she could tell without so much as a glance.

"I suppose now isn't the time for a Carl Orff joke is it?"

It was as she suspected, he truly did know far more than he had any right to. In their first meeting he had made an attempt at a power move making reference to her real name. Although she didn't make much effort to hide her identity and didn't really need to, a name drop from a potential foe was almost unprecedented. She opted to respond in kind.

"You aren't in any real position to be telling jokes Hadrian."

"I suppose not. I'd ask you what your purpose is here but first I reckon a change of scenery is needed."

The smoke that had been coating the alley coagulated into the central vortex before darting up a fire escape. Seeing that there was nothing duplicitous going on she followed the mass of fog upward toward the rooftops. Upon reaching the roof a corona of golden light spread out from the vortex's glowing core. In the wake of a phantom gust of wind the skyline has been replaced by surreal scenery. A hill scattered with swords bathed in brown light, the sky littered with enormous gears shrouded in bulbous muddy clouds. For the first time that night Fortuna had been genuinely surprised.

"Oops, my bad. This is the wrong scene give me a moment to cook up something more appropriate."

It was certainly a strange maneuver on his part was he trying to show off his capabilities or test the limits of her powers? Although that didn't make much sense considering the knowledge he had already shown, perhaps he had some form of esoteric thinker ability. The previous scene he had painted was replaced by a far more pleasant one. A small seafront coffee shop with a small corden to mark out a space for tables. The orange light emitted from the store contrasted with the dark night sky almost perfectly creating a picturesque setting. Seeing his power in action confirmed that she had underestimated just how dominant his influence on a space was. This in turn all but confirmed the suspicions she had about him undermining the path to victory in some way.

Hadrian then took on a form that she found to be unusually charming. That brought about another set of questions. His guise was suspiciously similar to her own preferences yet different enough for plausible deniability. Upon the realisation several questions and assumptions all fell into place. He was making another attempt to throw her off balance after his initial attempt at provoking a fear reaction failed. The setting, the form; come to think of it his aura had changed entirely as well. He was outputting an atmosphere of comfort with a hint of relaxation.

"Take a seat. Oh don't look at me like that, you know full well I'm not up to anything."

Fortuna didn't want to be drawn in any further into Hadrian's web so turned down his invitation. Despite his attempts to hide it, he was clearly disappointed. The world shifted once more before taking the form of a plain office nondescript to the point of feeling out of place.

"All business then, I was hoping to keep things cordial but if thats how its got to be… What do you want?"

Finally an opportunity to take the wheel of the interaction had revealed itself.

"You should know full well what sort of work I do. That being said there's a chance you'll make it out of this situation alive. Our esteemed organisation had decided to offer amnesty should you agree to serve our interests."

Of course she knew that this offer would be turned down and was thus prepared to dispose of him.

"You've made a grave mistake coming here Contessa.You've inadvertently revealed that you can't track me unless I allow you. I've managed to get half-way across the city without you noticing. Furthermore you managed to reveal just how little you know in the process. What hope do you have against one who can view the irrelevant paths?"

Before attempting to extrapolate meaning from what he meant by "Irrelevant paths" she emptied a magazine directly into Tactile's torso, practically tearing the man apart. A new figure emerged from the admittedly exaggerated cloud of blood and viscera. This one held an almost comically long sword. Her first instinct was to catch the blade between her palms in order to clearly demonstrate that he had no chance of harming her.

Assigning her power to the task resulted in a clear outcome...DEATH.

Dodging to the right... DEATH.

Dodging to the left ...DEATH.

Backstepping to avoid the blade… DEATH.

Perhaps a simple trick such as standing still would work… DEATH.

"Hidden sword:Tsubame gaeshi."

At that point it hit her, the trick behind his attack. Three strikes posing as one with a legend to allow him to conceptualise it as a single blow. A valiant attempt to overcome her path to victory but it was far from sufficient. She made a great leap back sliding slightly upon landing. She had been a little off on her estimate and her suit jacket had taken the punishment for her mistake. The rogue cape had managed to land three cuts one on her right hip another below her lower right ribs and a final shallow slice on her collar.

"Know this Fortuna, you are the one being let go in this situation. Take that into account next time you think of pulling off anything foolish, you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

The figure before her dissolved into smoke, blowing away with the wind. His departure only left a foul laughter upon the air, one last psychological attack to punctuate his farewell. Whoever this cape was and whatever the true extent of his power may be he was far more trouble than he was worth. Upon her return she would recommend that his case be reassigned to a more durable cape. The path to victory was a thinker ability unmatched by any other but its utility was limited by the fragile human body of its user.

If he was capable of landing so much as a scratch on her then he was perhaps one of the greatest threats to the path she had yet encountered. Furthermore it would seem that he was both aware of the path and possessing a comparable ability of his own. An ability by the presumed name of "Path to Irrelevance" may seem to be inane but still held terrifying connotations. Her first instinct was that his ability would enable to look across many potential futures. Regardless of what the truth may have been, Contessa foresaw a painful meeting with Cauldron's inner circle.


Author's notes:
As promised the fic's first kill. I reckon that it warrants an explanation. Both Tactile's and Imp's powers were working as intended. Imp could erase her presence as normal causing our MC to forget she existed, however Tactile's perception control allowed him to continuously sense her presence if not her identity. Unfortunately for her his paranoia got the better of him, kind of understandable granted that the Illuminati are after him. Now it's time to address the elephant in the room. This chapter has a serious anachronism in it. Imp wasn't supposed to be wandering around the bay in 2009. I had misremembered cannon and falsely made the assumption that both Laborn siblings triggered around about the same time.

Commenters on SB recommended that I switch her out for Shadow Stalker. The problem there is that Tactile would have been able to recognise her and wouldn't have thought anything was out of place. This time I can't patch things up with delayed debuts so I'll have to wright it off as an AU element.
 
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Well, that's certainly not going to create any problems with The Undersiders' leader down the road... not at all. :p might even get Brian to second-trigger, if he felt helpless in protecting his sister.
 
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