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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
Gen
Fandoms:
Exalted (Roleplaying Game)Parahumans Series - WildbowWorld of Darkness (Games)Mage: The AscensionWerewolf: The ApocalypseVampire: The MasqueradeChangeling: the DreamingDemon: The Fallen
Characters:
Original CharactersDragon (Parahumans)Infernal Exalted (Exalted)Missy Biron | VistaTaylor Hebert | Skitter | WeaverHannah | Hana | Miss MilitiaColin Wallis | Armsmaster | Defiant
Additional Tags:
FriendshipAlternate UniverseSlice of LifeCrossoverBody HorrorMartial ArtsMind ControlDemonsCanon-Typical ViolenceReverse Isekai and TransmigrationAlternate Universe - World of Darkness (Games) SettingPost-Time Skip
Language:
English
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Published:2025-08-22Updated:2025-09-01Words:101,443Chapters:12/?Comments:4Kudos:14Bookmarks:7Hits:1,573
Allegedly a Villain in Brockton Bay: a Tale From The Broken-Winged Crane
tyrant_raksha
Chapter 5: Preliminary Exam
Chapter Text
Someone shook Vista gently awake. She had been told to stay nearby the brute's holding area, in case the unpowered guards needed a cape's help immediately. After 20hrs of being awake yesterday, she had almost immediately passed out in an uncomfortably hard chair. Wiping drool from the edge of her mouth, she blinked blearily at the blurry outline of a person that had woken her up.
"It's almost morning, you should go clean up before the new shift comes in." whispered Dragon in a tone halfway between a big-sister and a mother.
Vista's yawn muffled her words. "Mwhh! ... djii miss anithn?"
"Did you miss anything? No, not really. Those two haven't slept a wink. I think they're still talking."
<
She held up her hands apologetically. <
<
Vista turned to look at the strangely colored pair in the holding area. They were indeed deep in their own private world. "I guess, if nothing important is going on, I can go shower. Thanks Dragon! I'll be back in a half hour."
"No worries Vista. I definitely still need more dialog for my translator to work."
<
<
<
Dragon watched the green brute reach out and caress the soft lilac cheek of the purple woman. She felt like a voyeur, watching the strange chemistry play out between them.
<
The neomah shivered, well aware of the limitless sadism of Kimbery. She felt the gills upon her neck, and remembered them as the sweet caress she had felt when she had long ago fell into the Demon Sea's acid waters. The killing waters were not merely waters, they were aware. She would never know why they (She?) had chosen to withhold their killing touch.
Her shiver was also informed from Joyful Fluttering Locust Mariner's fearsome reputation. While he was no Slayer, possessed of the boundless fury of Malfeas, the Locust Mariner conquered countries and killed and ate the whole pantheon of An-Teng. He was a Grandmaster of The Green Sun Kingdom, the 'master of fifteen styles' himself, and seemingly hell's greatest practitioner of Laughing Wounds Style, as well as a master of Mantis Style, Black Tide Style, and the other esoteric Dragon King styles. Mantis Style was a common enough style for grapplers. However, she only knew of Black Tide Style due to its association with the Lintha, but even then it was exclusively used underwater; of course he taught Frist Pulse Style, Crimson Pentacle Blade Style, and Even Blade Style to the Sword Brothers and was rumored to secretly teach White Veil, Fivefold Shadow Hand Style, Dreaming Pearl Courtesan Style, and Black Claw Style to the Lintha rooks, even if he didn't seem to publicly use them himself. Of course, most of the martial artists of hell knew the berserker arts of Infernal Monster Style as did most graduates of Suntarnkal, and the Grandmaster was infamous for his appetites when angered. Case in point the famously vicious match pitting his Laughing Wounds style against Deer-Footed Mara and her own Black Claw style, which he won after grinding her into paste over the course of hours. As far as she knew that was the titular 15th style.
The fact that he chose to use his large hands to gently caress her face, neck, and gills, rather than tearing her still-beating heart from her chest--which for him would be no more difficult than snuffing a candle before sleep--loomed large in her thoughts.
What kind of man was her new master? Was he still a doctor and family man? Was he still the merchant who sold life-saving medicine as often as addictive drugs? Or, had the brutality of life in Malfeas burned all of that from him? Was there anything left after hundreds of years, or was he a monster hiding behind a smiling face?
Dragon could not look away. It was like watching a Telenovela.
--
Dr. Jessica Yamada hated being on call with the PRT and Protectorate. For her profession, it was vital to be able to control the pace of sessions. Rushing off to go deal with last minute interruptions was hardly going to help her patients, many of whom have all too few people willing to sit down with them and listen. Trust was earned, after all.
She understood how important it was for her to be professional about the whole thing. Obviously, the PRT and Protectorate really needed staff like her, people who weren't in a position where everything had to be either a friend or a foe. Nuances would hardly reveal themselves under interrogation lights.
That's what she normally got called in for: a few of their protocols required the sign off of a medical personnel. It was not that she was required for her personal skill set, but rather that they needed any person with the right licensure. Since she worked with them in her capacity as a therapist, she was also required to leave her precious patients behind and go fill a chair and sign paperwork.
Today was no different. She had been rudely awakened two hours before dawn, by an automated phone call informing her that there was a need for Entrance Counseling for a 'Person of Highest Risk'. While she hadn't actually gotten a request for working with anyone of 'Highest Risk' at that point, it still struck her as odd that it was of low enough priority that they didn't call in a specialist or something. It smelled weird and bureaucratic to her.
At just past dawn, she arrived at the Protectorate HQ. Having woken up two hours prior in order to get there 'ASAP' meant that she was desperately in need of caffeine before she strangled someone.
"Morning Doc!"
Speaking of strangling someone…
"Good morning Dennis…" she replied, trying not to be blinded by the glare of the morning sun on his white armor.
"Oh Doc, you know I hate it when you call me Dennis! Clockblocker is so much cooler!"
She could hear him smirking through his opaque helmet, she swore it.
"We can discuss your need to hide from your mundane side when we have our next session, Dennis. I assume you're here for me?"
He nodded. "We've got a new brute in holding. I don't know why, but they already agreed to let him join the Protectorate, and now we gotta do the paperwork for it. I'm here to guard you while you do it."
"Guard me from what?"
"I don't know, I was out sick yesterday with a bad case of MMO-fever. Brutes are brutes though, so better safe than sorry."
--
After several minutes of passing through security areas and elevators, they arrived in the holding area where the brute was being held. As far as Yamada was concerned, it looked like a cross between a small conference room and a holding cell. It was labeled 'Minimum Security', but had four visible Protectorate guards, in addition to Vista and Dragon. Again more mixed signals…
"Ooo I hope the new brute is the purple chick!" exclaimed Clockblocker, eying up the curves of the woman sitting in the room, opposite a shirtless man with green tattooed skin.
"Of course you do. You are such a teenage boy, Clockblocker!" said Vista, noticing them finally.
Dragon turned towards them both. "I'm handing this over to you and Vista. Clockblocker, were you briefed beforehand?"
"Um… yes?"
"The big green guy is the Brute in question. Who he is, is a little complicated, and he doesn't speak English. The purple woman is his … de facto translator. You and Vista have been selected for this tasking because you have ways of restraining a brute without causing collateral damage. Dr. Yamada is the VIP here. By all means be as rough as you need to with the Brute. I doubt you could really hurt him."
"Why's that? I'm pretty good in a fight."
Vista chimed in. "Aren't they still repairing the deck plating from where he fought Glory Girl?"
Dragon checked her camera feeds, looking like she was deep in thought. "Uh… yeah looks like there's still holes big enough to require OSHA hazard labelling."
"Oh really? I guess being able to survive that intact makes him kind of badass. Are we supposed to wait till she shows up for the meeting? I imagine she wants to brag again."
Vista's eyebrows knotted. "You're making a lot of assumptions there."
"Our last report from Brandish said that she was still unconscious in the hospital, awaiting Panacea's international return flight this afternoon."
"What happened?"
Dragon spoke again. "Panacea elected to take the next reasonable flight back, as soon as she'd finished her shift. By all accounts it was not an emergency. I suspect that she wants to make sure her sister is well, all the same."
"Not that! I wanted to know about the fight!"
Vista waved her hand. "There's a video, if you want. I know the Director set up cameras to look out for illusions. I don't really want to see it again; I don't even like Vicky, but I hate seeing that happen to anyone."
"Where's this video, can I watch it now?"
"No." said Yamada. "I have work to do, and you are both my escorts. Sate your bloodlust on your own time."
They entered the room as Dragon left, with two armed guards following them in and taking a post at the door. While there were two small hard cots in the corners, the center of the room had a table slightly larger than a dinner table, but big enough for eight to sit comfortably. The green brute already sat opposite the door, next to his translator.
Both watched attentively while the two costumed capes led in a seemingly plain looking woman protectively between them. They all sat down, with the plain woman taking a seat to the side, nearest the brute, while her escorts took the other sides.
Yamada spoke first. "I've been told that Armsmaster thinks you're crazy."
The translator flinched and relayed her words.
<
<
<>
"His Grace does not concern himself with opinions such as that."
"Do you think you're crazy?"
<
The green brute thought about it. <
<
He sighed. <
"His Grace says 'no'."
Clockblocker quipped. "That's an awful long way to say 'no'."
"What's important is that Mister… how do I address him again?" asked Yamada looking at the purple woman.
"His Grace's title is… " she began.
"No," interrupted Yamada. "I mean, what's his personal name, buried under all that. I am Jessica."
<
<
"His Grace favors you, and has given permission to address him as Joyful Fluttering Locust Mariner."
"Is that a Cape name?"
"No, Dr. Yamada. His Grace has no nom de guerre. In the culture of his birth, Joyful Fluttering Locust Mariner is a name, one of many that are determined at birth via divinatory methods. It is indeed a mouthful in English, but I assure you that the Old Realm version is shorter."
Clockblocker started to snicker. At sheer absurdity of a brute named 'Joyful Fluttering'-anything beat up Glory Girl.
Vista tried her best not to follow suit.
Yamada spoke up, "That name sounds like it should belong on a Chinese Emperor."
The purple woman shrugged. "His Grace is not one to stand on formalities. However, unless he specifically orders me otherwise, I am duty bound to do so on his behalf."
"As I was saying, the important thing here, right now is that I will believe him when he tells me that he is not crazy. I am a psychologist after all, and I know that without basic trust and respect for each other, we can't really communicate freely."
<
<
The neomah conveyed as much.
"Doctor? As in witch doctor, PhD, MD, etc?"
<
<
"A master of flesh?" said the neomah, experimentally. "I guess that is closest to a medical doctor or surgeon."
"What kind of doctor beats up teenage girls?!" Vista interjected angrily.
The neomah translated for her.
<>
<
"His Grace did offer to fix Glory Girl."
Yamada moved her hand to get a word in edgewise. "This brings me to the second purpose of this meeting. I need to professionally assess if you are both healthy and fit for duty, as well as begin the determination process for your official PRT Power Classification. Can you indeed heal others, or just yourself?"
The neomah conveyed the question.
<
<
<>
The neomah rubbed her eyes. She was reminded again that while her lord did not need to sleep, she surely did. "I am sorry, I cannot convey properly the degree to which My Lord is answering your question in the positive. Several of his specializations as the Surgeon General of The Reclamation do not exist here. Explaining them is not something I am especially qualified to do in His Grace's stead. It would be like trying to explain the Internet to His Grace."
"Who doesn't know what the Internet is? Geeze!" commented Clockblocker. "Even my grandparents use social media."
Vista nodded in begrudging agreement.
"We can always use new healers. I'll see if Panacea is available for testing any time soon." said Dr. Yamada.
Vista shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Clockblocker looked confused. "Why?"
"New Wave is pretty tightly knit, are they not? I think most of them are family of some kind."
"Yeah, wow, Panacea is extra protective of her sister too!" Clockblocker smacked his fist triumphantly into his opposite palm. "The only thing that could make it worse is if he'd castrated Gallant while he was at it."
Yamada shrugged. "Maybe a little anger will make for a more challenging test of his healing skills?" she looked at Mariner's red eyes; not the broken pallid pink of an albino, but eyes seemingly designed that way. There was a degree of active engagement within them that she did not expect. It was like they saw through her, and knew things about her that she had neither said, nor could have conveyed across the language barrier. The eyes looked beyond her, and she could feel heartbeat rising and palms sweating, while the phantom sensation of something like ice down her spine. Almost, but not quite, she heard the sound of distant discordant piping.
She blinked, and deliberately averted her gaze. Unsure of her own reasons for doing so, but dimly feeling very small.
"Doctor Yamada?" asked Vista. "Are you okay?"
Was she? Jessica did not know. She looked down at her itinerary. Oh, yes… the checklist. "I have a list here of the major categories that we normally organize Parahuman Powers into. If you are willing to answer some questions about your powers, we can get started."
The green brute nodded after his translator conveyed her words to him.
"You have been characterized as a Brute by most accounts I have heard. Are you aware of what that means?"
The translator discussed it with the green man, who eventually shook his head. <
"His Grace denies the label. He suggests that he is not much of a fighter in the conventional sense." supplied the neomah.
"Still though, I will mark him down for testing in Brute and Healing. Regardless of his suggestions, it would be worth the time to clear up the confusion as well. Next, Movers. Do you believe that your powers give you enhanced mobility?"
He shook his head. Of course Kimbery's charms aided sailing or swimming, but he didn't think that was what she meant. He also wasn't sure if he really wanted Yamada to know the true extent of his powers; outright lying was not likely to win him any allies either. Trust would need to be built slowly.
Yamada checked the "N/A" box. "Alright, how about powers that can be used to effect an area?"
He shook his head yes, and peeked over at the papers in front of Jessica. <
--
Nearly an hour later, they had determined that he was not a Mover or Trump, but needed testing in all other categories. He had not provided anything too juicy for Yamada, but it seemed like he had a variety of unrelated powers, which confused the PRT Classification guidelines somewhat, and made threat-assessment misleading. Still, he would wind up with a RPT Classification of 'Brute 6*; Mover 3*, Trump 0; Unrated all other categories' until further testing could be completed. It slotted him in with Glory Girl's Brute rating, with a +1 from his obvious self-healing. The Mover rating was penciled in after Dragon's footage of him leaping to her in the extra-dimensional space.
Specific notes were made in her log suggesting that he needed to be tested for healing powers. She was pretty sure that the super-senses he mentioned were legit, but without having specialized isolation areas, all she could determine was that she could not find a point at which he was unable to Taste or Smell a stimuli. That was some kind of Thinker rating, she was pretty certain, but whether it was dangerous enough to get on his file? She didn't know.
Yamada drew a privacy curtain around the green man, and examined him per the intake procedure. She could not believe that he was older than 800. Everything about him screamed that he was in his 30s, and full of vitality. Her attempts to take blood samples failed, with his strange blood dissolving the delicate metal tip of the syringe. She was grateful when he warned her not to keep trying, lest she spray it all over herself and the room they were in. She added a note to test for Breaker or Changer, maybe Shaker/Striker depending on how far it sprayed?
She could only conclude that, lacking the proper equipment to do any closer examination than waving the exact same scanner the Quarantine team had used earlier over him, he was probably fit for active duty. That, and that he made her very uncomfortable when she tried to examine his mouth. She imagined it must be what a vet feels when they're looking down a sedated tiger's gullet, and just hoping it did not wake up mid-exam. The fact that the seemingly normal looking teeth turned out to be made of black rusty-looking metal surely had no bearing.
Later, after reviewing the videos of his arrival, she was left wondering whether the wild predator rather literally gorging on the catering table, or the brutal sadist choking the light from Glory Girls eyes, or the strange uncomfortably insightful eyes that seemed to already know her secrets was more representative of who her new patient was. While he had not obviously lied to her, she understood that he had not been forthcoming either--she knew more about what he was not than anything concrete about what he was. Maybe he really was some kind of alien politician.
It wasn't until much later that Yamada realized that she seemed to have misplaced several high-precision reference-pure lead weights from the exam room, part of the equal arm balance used in some procedures.
--
<
<>
<
<
<
Mariner could feel the 10 kg of lead sloshing within his not-stomach. The Laboratory-Wombs were gifts from The Great Mother, one of her greatest blessings. Intended for the creation of life itself, they could be repurposed for many lesser tasks, if one was not in a hurry and ate well.
<
<
--
A week later, Quinn Calle stood in front of a local jeweler. She was unscrupulous enough to not ask where things came from, most of the time when she worked with Quinn. After all, the handsome man had gotten her son off with little more than community service.
He opened a small shoebox, and pulled out a yellow metal object shaped like a straight-sided bowling pin. "I want to sell this." he stated, pushing it in front of her.
She blinked.
"What is it?"
"It's gold, obviously."
She looked at it closely. It had a matte finish, but if she took off her glasses, it seemed to be the right color.
"Quinn, april-fools has already come and gone."
"I'm serious."
"Gold doesn't just show up in random sizes and shapes, Quinn. The issuing mint is required to certify the weight and purity before marking it. This ... lump, looks like no ingot or bar or coin that I am familiar with. Did one of your clients spray paint a fishing weight or something? Maybe pull a fast one over their smartass lawyer?"
His grin diminished slightly. "Could ya' check anyway, please?"
She huffed, and carried the heavy object to her workbench.
Several minutes later, she came over to Quinn with a frown.
"This thing has to be fake, Quinn. It's too pure to be gold, even from the highest purity mints in Australia."
"Higher purity is good right?"
"It is… but you have to understand that this kind of thing doesn't exist! No one makes these! The only marking on it is '2kg'. There's no issuer! There's no paper trail! Even if I sell it to someone else, they'd have to recast it, alloy in some impurities, and then recertify it all before anyone will take it!"
"So is that a 'yes it is worth something' or not?"
She cursed and pulled out a calculator. After everything was said and done, and her $30k+ fees were extracted, it was worth almost exactly $100k.
Calle was just a little impressed.
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