I just had a mental image of the scene from the first Judge Dread where Dread is going to prison and the other convict recognizes him from his chin. I AM THE HALBEARD
A quick question, if I may - does anyone have a rough date for when Vista triggered and/or joined the Wards? I know she'd been in for quite awhile, but I'm just not sure how long beyond "at least two years" per
Vista had to bite her tongue.Pointing out that people were being condescending had a way of making her look petulant, which only compounded the problem. Yes. Because any maturity on my part is something special. Doesn't matter that I have nine months of seniority over Kid Win,being thirteen means everyone expects me to be squealing over Justin Beiber or the Maggie Holt books, or dressing in pink or-
Legend stared out the window. He wouldn't miss this city. There weren't happy memories here, and there was little he was proud about. Most of the time, he was able to feel that he'd made an impact, that the world was a better place for his being there. That wasn't the case here.
"How long have you been in the Wards?" he asked, to make conversation.
"Two years."
"I've seen your records."
Kid Win cringed.
Vista had 9 months of seniority on Kid Win.
Kid Win had been with the Wards for two years as of June 2011.
Ergo, Vista joined the Wards around September/October 2008.
Vista had to bite her tongue.Pointing out that people were being condescending had a way of making her look petulant, which only compounded the problem. Yes. Because any maturity on my part is something special. Doesn't matter that I have nine months of seniority over Kid Win,being thirteen means everyone expects me to be squealing over Justin Beiber or the Maggie Holt books, or dressing in pink or-
Legend stared out the window. He wouldn't miss this city. There weren't happy memories here, and there was little he was proud about. Most of the time, he was able to feel that he'd made an impact, that the world was a better place for his being there. That wasn't the case here.
"How long have you been in the Wards?" he asked, to make conversation.
"Two years."
"I've seen your records."
Kid Win cringed.
Vista had 9 months of seniority on Kid Win.
Kid Win had been with the Wards for two years as of June 2011.
Ergo, Vista joined the Wards around September/October 2008.
Kinda curious if she spent any time independent after triggering. Going off what we know of her home life and personality I could see her using her powers to live on her own on the street for a bit til the Protectorate found her. Could run some interesting butterflies from that. Meet a young wandering Rachel maybe?
Um... people don't need to direct output of the random scenario generator to me. Really.
Speaking of which, the Random Worm Scenario Roller now has a button for 'decanonising' the Lung Fight, as suggested over on SB. Random Worm Scenario Roller 0.8
Kinda curious if she spent any time independent after triggering. Going off what we know of her home life and personality I could see her using her powers to live on her own on the street for a bit til the Protectorate found her. Could run some interesting butterflies from that. Meet a young wandering Rachel maybe?
She was 13 as of the Slaughterhouse 9 Arc; that would have put her around 10 when she joined the Wards.
Given that her parents were both alive and healthy at the time, I'd say no; tweens do not go running the streets in a city like Brockton Bay.
I'm pretty sure even Rachel was older when she triggered.
She was 13 as of the Slaughterhouse 9 Arc; that would have put her around 10 when she joined the Wards.
Given that her parents were both alive and healthy at the time, I'd say no; tweens do not go running the streets in a city like Brockton Bay.
I'm pretty sure even Rachel was older when she triggered.
Tweens regularly run from shitty homes IRL though? Like there are a lot of very young homeless people. Teens are way more likely to true. But plenty of kids go on the run. Without super powers. Vista had a home life bad enough to trigger stemming from her parents. I could totally buy her going runaway for a while.
Missy: "I, AMORAL HORIZON, shall stretch the world like taffy and and bend the population to my whim! But fear not my darling Dean, our love shall be spared! Muahahahaha!"
*Dean tied up and gagged to railroad tracks, pouts*
Missy: "I, AMORAL HORIZON, shall stretch the world like taffy and and bend the population to my whim! But fear not my darling Dean, our love shall be spared! Muahahahaha!"
*Dean tied up and gagged to railroad tracks, pouts*
I am honestly unsure whether Vicky would be more annoyed over the kidnapping or giddy over being able to rescue Dean from this kind of thing with all the ham she can bring.
I am honestly unsure whether Vicky would be more annoyed over the kidnapping or giddy over being able to rescue Dean from this kind of thing with all the ham she can bring.
That part is easy. You just need to have her breakdown into a marathon squee.
As soon as the shelters open, Emma tackleglomps Taylor, chattering about how strong she is now. She then moves on to successfully convince everyone that they're friends again, kick Madison to the curb (how many Endbringers has SHE killed?), and generally act like Emma from Queen of the Swarm.
It inadvertently works. Everyone in the Wards comes away with the initial impression that Taylor/Sophia/Emma have been friends since day one. Likewise for everyone in the Undersiders except Tattletale.
My heart skipped a beat as a black SUV pulled up alongside me. It's tinted passenger-side window rolled down; a young woman leaned out. Her colorful headscarf lit up like neon in the afternoon sun. "Excuse me, ma'am? Do you know where to find Wessel Hall?"
Ma'am?!
I ran a hand down the front of my business jacket, painted nails stumbling over its buttons. "You want to go that way, past the auditorium."
She smiled. "Thank you."
The car pulled away.
"Ma'am?" I muttered to myself. I was fifteen and a half. It was a good day when those bitches at school didn't call me a dirty name.
But then I wasn't fifteen right then. The smartphone in my jacket pocket had added several years and six inches to my outward appearance, even before you added the heels. Yet the difference wasn't in apparent age alone. it dazzled me how much difference clothes made. I've never really interacted with the public in my costume, although I did stop a mugging once. Nobody laughed at my leotard and skirt combo. They just took me for a superhero. The getup was part of the package. Today I looked older and wore business attire, so people stopped to ask me for directions.
Glancing at my reflection in a parked car's window, I didn't recognize myself. My two-button dark charcoal jacket was paired with a matching skirt that ended a handspan above my knobbly knees. I wore a white blouse buttoned up to the collar — still nothing to show off, even aged up to my late twenties — and a pair of modest pumps. The pantyhose weirded me out. I'd never opened a pair, and had only tried some on years ago, when Emma and I were little girls playing dress up. Mrs. Barnes had been pissed we ruined her hose. Yet it had come with the outfit, and I couldn't edit the photos. Stranger still was my newly short hair. The businesswoman I had copied wore an a-line bob. My hand kept sneaking away from me to rub my newly bared neck. Feeling the breeze off the bay there was... different. Weird and different.
The outfit came courtesy of a nameless office worker in the Downtown's banking district. I had snapped a covert photos of several people while lingering at a bus stop during the lunch hour rush. I didn't really know fashion. I had picked this particular outfit out of my photo album basically at random. My mom or Emma had always picked out my clothes when we went shopping. These days, I just went with whatever was comfortable: hoodies, jeans, sneakers. Nothing that stretched the household budget. Although money wasn't much of an issue when it came to my Disguise App. It let me copy the appearance of anyone in a photo stored on its drive. There were limits, nevertheless. I couldn't edit the photos. I couldn't copy a cape's powers or tinker-tech even if I dressed up as 'Armsmistress'. At best the Disguise App gave me a superficial dusting of functional knowledge: a paramedic pic would help me find someone's pulse, a dockworker pic would let me find my way around a forklift's controls, and a banker's pic would make doing my math homework easier. It also allowed me to walk around in heels without any risk of stumbling.
Yeah, I shouldn't use my powers for petty stuff like that. But, for a little while, it was nice to take a break from being me.
Shrugging off the encounter, I resumed my hike across campus.
Slick orange and yellow leaves painted the sidewalk, but they had been steamrolled by the countless footfalls of Brockton Bay University students going to and from class. My mother had walked this way with me many times. So much so that the small differences from yesteryear were glaring: a new footpath crisscrossing Grant Hall's lawn, green-striped fifteen minute parking spots at the street corners, an empty storefront where The Rusty Bucket used to serve a spinach dip that my mother gushed over.
Although there were finer aspects to the university that I hadn't been aware of until today's meeting had been arranged, like the fact that the Parahuman Studies department did not merit its own building. According to the research my 'boss' did, they were a poor cousin to the departments run by MIT and the Ivys. Brockton U used its Parahuman Studies program as a complement to its Law School, and housed them under that roof. So, I found myself heading toward a modern-looking glass and steel building. It was a far cry from the brutalist concrete monstrosity that my mom had worked in, but then the English Department didn't rake in the alumni dollars.
A half block away from the Law School building, I settled down on a wood bench along the footpath. It was dusted in fallen leaves from an elderly maple tree towering overhead. The air was heavy with autumn mustiness. By the whiff of charcoal on the breeze, there was a barbecue down on Frat Row. That party was far away, however. Aside from a handful of students clustered around a campus bus stop that sat on the road between this green space and the Law School, I was all alone — save for a black cat that had taken up a perch on the far side of the bench.
Taking out my smartphone, I mimed making a call and pressed it to my ear. "So, any clues?"
"Quite possibly yes," said the cat in a prim and ladylike voice. Her tail flickered in delight. "There's this girl with a curious aura who passed by a little while ago. I followed her to the Law library. I believe she might be working for the enemy."
"An aura."
"If it makes you feel more comfortable," Luna, my boss the cat, said, "we'll say she ran afoul of my Thinker power."
"Forget it," I said, not wanting to fight this battle again.
"A human wouldn't put out a feeling like this, Taylor."
"What about a parahuman?"
"I doubt she's involved with any of the local warlords, given her ethnicity. It also rules out her involvement with the government. Well, unless they have glamors we don't know about, and by definition we wouldn't, but the authorities tend to be honest about any glamor-users among their ranks." Luna gave a thoughtful purr. "Still, Glory Girl's power meddled with her aura, and it fooled me into suspecting she was Sailor Mercury's reincarnation for a time."
"What?"
"I didn't wake up and then immediately stumble across you, Taylor."
"I'm just trying to imagine how that conversation must have went." I wasn't already a superhero or had powers of my own, and Luna's pitch about becoming a 'magical' soldier had still been a hard sell.
"Yes, well, it allowed me to refine my pitch."
I nodded, tucking one ankle over the other. "Taking a negative and turning it into a positive."
"That's one way of putting it. So, how do you want to handle this?"
There it was. The same question that had led me into that alleyway last night. As much as I had my misgivings, there was really only one option that could ensure the safety of that class. I dispensed with the theater of miming a phone call, stood, and smoothed out my charcoal skirt. "Did you bring that USB stick?"
"Yes." I didn't expect to see it on her, being a cat, but there was her pocket dimension. "Why?"
Rather than explain, I started toward the Law School building, hurrying across the street with Luna nipping at my heels. I hit a small snag upon trying to get inside. Its modern architecture came with modern security. You needed a student or faculty ID badge to unlock the door.
"Maybe you can take a picture of one of the students?" Luna mused. She glanced toward the nearby bus stop. In a low voice, she whispered, "Although with all the security cameras around, you'll need to find someplace secluded to change your disguise. I think I saw a bathr—"
"Excuse me!" I called out, flustered. The redness of my face only depended as the cluster of university students turned as one toward me. "I—I'm so sorry, but I forgot my card in my other purse." I pointed to the locked door. "Could one of you...?"
"Oh! Sure!" One of them, a twentysomething in need of a shave, hopped to it.
"You're a lifesaver! Thank you!"
"It's no problem, ma'am."
——————————————————
Ami Mizuno's place is in the corner. Specifically, it is three tables down and two over. Looming behind her is a collection of law texts, their pages yellowed but spines only slightly creased. They are an accounting of Pre-Scion laws, from before parahumans appeared to influence society. Ami has never read them. She is not Pre-Law. The students who are do not read them either, at least not while she is around, so nobody bothers her while she studies. That is one benefit of sitting in the far corner of the law library.
Her fellow university students are another. To her left, hermetically sealed floor-to-ceiling windows look out onto the campus grounds. It is the best people-watching spot on campus. The view is picturesque, positioned as the library is on a modest hilltop. Leafy sugar maples frame a popular foot path. She can spy on her classmates going about their days, often traveling in clumps. Other times Ami just stares off into the distance, watching the ships putter around in the city's titular bay. Once in a while a long container ship even makes port.
How silly, Ami often chides herself, when she catches herself wondering about those ships. It isn't like she can't look up a registration number on her laptop. Inside five minutes she can slay any mystery. The vessel's entire history will be laid out before her. She can do the same for her classmates. Sometimes, when her schedule is empty, Ami makes a game of it, sifting through social media for profiles and pictures. She probably knows more about her classmates at Brockton Bay University than anyone. It isn't often that she starts a class without already being able to put hobbies, favorite songs, likes and dislikes to the faces of all her classmates — let alone names.
Chin tucked into her palm, Ami smiles wanly to herself.
Thoughts of her classmates' lives are still cluttering her mind as she turned back to the biochemistry textbooks set out before her, and startles. A woman in a business suit is standing beside her isolated table. She is holding a black cat in her arms.
"Uh, sorry," the strange woman says. "Didn't meant to scare you."
Ami's hand reflexively flies to her cochlear implant, trembling fingertips checking to see if she has not unwittingly turned it off. It is a silly gesture. How could she have heard this stranger's apology otherwise? Non sunt multiplicanda entia sine necessitate. The simplest explanation is usually the correct one: the strange woman approached her while she was lost in thought.
"N-no, it's okay." Ami's mother always says to meet an apology with an apology. It makes other people feel comfortable. Ami does not understand why that is so, because here she was in error, but she accepts it. Her mother is always right, after all.
Ami studies the cat gathered up in the stranger's arms. Its short black fur looks soft. She wants to reach out and touch it. That might be dangerous, however. Animals may snap at perceived dangers. "May I?"
"You'd have to ask her."
"Pardon?"
"What my valet means," the cat — ! — says, "is that I am not her pet."
Ami's hands fly to her mouth. The cat is not a cat but a Case 53. Ami has met capes before but never one of this type.
The kitty cape pounces onto the tabletop, walking around to the side opposite her valet. "I was hoping you could help me with a small matter. While I was stretching my legs a little while ago, I came across a UBS drive—"
"USB," the valet whispers.
"—out in the hallway. Could you perhaps help us find its owner? Maybe something on it has a clue to their identity."
Ami nods.
She runs a virus and malware scan on the drive first, but turns up nothing. The contents of the pen need no real investigation. They are familiar. Yet given the importance of presenting evidence, she fishes her own USB drive from her schoolbag and plugs it in. Once the two file folders are side-by-side, Ami rotates the screen. "This is the one you found, and this is from my Parahuman Studies class. They're the same. The owner must be in my class."
"You're a student here?" the valet asks.
"Yes."
"But you can't be much older than m...y niece."
Ami asks, for clarification, "I don't know how old your niece is."
"I mean, aren't you a little young for a college student?"
A bead of sweat trickles down Ami's ribs. It is a common question, but one that she does not enjoy because it requires a great deal of talking on her part. Ami's hand flutters to her side, blotting the sweat away with a dab of her silk blouse. "I finished high school early. I—"
The valet makes a noise in her throat. "I'm jealous. It must be nice, setting your own schedule, not having to put up with stuff like gym class." She holds out a manicured hand. "I'm Taylor, by the way. This is Luna."
The kitty cape suddenly arched her back, hairs standing on end.
"Are you feeling okay?" Ami asks Luna, confused by the sudden turn in her behavior, even as she takes Taylor's offering. The handshake is weak on both sides.
Luna's reply is lost even in the quiet of the library.
Ami dials up the sensitivity of her implant. "Can you please repeat what you said?"
"I said," Luna booms, evoking a wince from Ami, "that I would prefer if my valet stayed silent."
Taylor adjusts her wireframe glasses. "You're the boss."
"Anyway, thank you, Miss...?"
"Ami Mizuno."
"For you help." Luna paws as a USB stick. Ami quickly disconnects it for the handless cape, who picks up the device in her mouth. "Wheee haavf who be gohinn."With that, Luna hops off the table and shoots for the library exit.
Taylor stands there, looking between her boss and Ami. "Um, sorry for disturbing you. Thank you for all your help."
"You're welcome," Ami says, for lack of anything better to say.
Once she's left alone again in her corner, Ami Mizuno sucks in a deep breath and slowly exhales it. That is the longest conversation she has had in several weeks. Unsettled, she digs out her music player and Personal Audio Cable. A few minutes listening to Canary's newest single will put her back in the right mindset for studying. As she is googling the lyrics for the song so she can follow along, Ami brings up the minimized file folder to close it — only for her eyes to go wide.
Hastily disconnecting it, Ami rushes for the library exit.
There is no sign of Taylor or Luna in the hallway.
Ami clutches the stranger's pen drive to her chest. "You took mine..."
——————————————————
"I'm telling you, Taylor, there's something off about that girl!"
"I'm guessing the Moon didn't have autistic people?" I said, and then chided myself for the quip. It wasn't right to talk about someone behind their back. She could have just been hopeless with people, like Greg. Anyone smart enough to be in college at her age probably had to be a little different. "Anyway, she's no demon."
Luna, who had been standing on her half of the park bench, sat on her hind legs. "She might not have recognized me, but that's no guarantee she's human. In a world of demons and Endbringers, is it so hard to accept that there might be other things that lurk in the darkness between stars?"
I shook my head. "The simplest explanation is usually the best one: she's human, or she's a cape."
Luna sighed. "Regardless, I'm going to keep an eye on her, just to be safe. You should go home. You have schoolwork to do."
I imitated Luna's sigh. Jumping between cape stuff and school stuff sucked, especially when I hadn't accomplished anything. "Thanks for the reminder."
"And no patrolling tonight. Get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow."
I turned over the pen drive in my hand, and remembered when it had been coated with the ashes of a dead woman. A lump lodged itself in my throat. "Yeah."
That part is easy. You just need to have her breakdown into a marathon squee.
As soon as the shelters open, Emma tackleglomps Taylor, chattering about how strong she is now. She then moves on to successfully convince everyone that they're friends again, kick Madison to the curb (how many Endbringers has SHE killed?), and generally act like Emma from Queen of the Swarm.
It inadvertently works. Everyone in the Wards comes away with the initial impression that Taylor/Sophia/Emma have been friends since day one. Likewise for everyone in the Undersiders except Tattletale.
It's a little known fact that Vista was quietly conscripted into the Wards after her disastrous first attempt at patrolling caused several dozen casualties.
It's a little known fact that Vista was quietly conscripted into the Wards after her disastrous first attempt at patrolling caused several dozen casualties.
It's a little known fact that Vista was quietly conscripted into the Wards after her disastrous first attempt at patrolling caused several dozen casualties.
It's not canon, but it's an extrapolation, not an alteration. I think it's a pretty reasonable outcome for a 10-year old trying to fight crime using an absurdly lethal power. Unlike many, her extreme mobility means she could easily find targets. What's the obvious way for her to attack people? Dropping them. It's very easy to drop them a little too far. She didn't necessarily kill anyone, but she could have easily made quite a mess.
It's not canon, but it's an extrapolation, not an alteration. I think it's a pretty reasonable outcome for a 10-year old trying to fight crime using an absurdly lethal power. Unlike many, her extreme mobility means she could easily find targets. What's the obvious way for her to attack people? Dropping them. It's very easy to drop them a little too far. She didn't necessarily kill anyone, but she could have easily made quite a mess.
It's because whenever she considers dropping someone, she gets flashbacks to That Day.
I think a much more likely scenario for Vista Origins is that she triggered, probably while at home, and her parents noticed almost right away and took her to the Wards.
