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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 15
Fidgeting at the table, Laserdream tried to wrap her head around the briefing with no real luck.
The Nine were a nightmare that happened to other people, and S class truces had been a recent discussion around the dinner table for a number of reasons. Having to adapt to the current situation was bad enough that her shields felt like coming out. But the rest of it? That sounded like a giant pile of trouble. "So, Skitter really went through all of that? Really?"
Fixing her with a look, Director Piggot sighed. "Yes she did, which is why she is now apparently a person of interest to the Slaughterhouse Nine. Given the circumstances, it only seemed reasonable to pool our knowledge before working with her."
Shuffling in his seat, her brother gave the briefing packet another glance. "Somehow, I don't think she's going to be thrilled to work with us at all. This isn't the sort of thing that is supposed to be shared all over the place. I sure as hell wouldn't ignore it if my background and Trigger event was blasted everywhere without my say so." Biting her lip, Crystal had to agree.
Sighing, Assault leaned forward. "Look kid, we're not too thrilled with airing our dirty laundry either. But after going over everything, at least forty percent of the whole mess was due to a lack of communication. Now that Jack Slash himself has popped our information security, I half expect to see it plastered all over the internet within a month. You know, assuming I live that long." It was a morbid thought that the young Cape decided to stay far away from.
Closing her eyes Mom, no Lady Photon, leaned back in her chair. "I agree that we currently have bigger concerns. However, I do believe that we will reserve the right to reach out to Miss Hebert once things have been settled. One way or the other, I do not feel right about an underaged Parahuman being railroaded like this."
Snorting, Director Piggot gave her a smirk. "You haven't been the ones trying to interrogate or negotiate with the girl. She might have left Earth Bet with just as many problems as any other Cape, but she came back with more tricks than a dozen lawyers. Speaking of, we hope to arrange a meeting with the various Villain organizations left in the Bay. Will you want to send a representative or would you like to hang back?" Looking over her family, Laserdream just knew that would go over like a lead balloon.
Scoffing, Aunt Carol interjected. "I personally think that you should deal with them without our interference. But where is Miss Hebert anyways? I half expected her to be here already. I know what she went through, and the broad strokes of her issues. What I don't understand is what she apparently learned that has been worth all of this life and death drama."
Clearing her throat Miss Militia interjected. "Miss Hebert has a unique viewpoint from her time away. At the moment she is reviewing some of our files on the Nine after a bit of freshening up. Legend insisted that putting her in the field in a prison uniform would just paint a target on her back."
Before anyone could continue the questioning, the door opened, showing two new arrivals. First was Legend, easily recognizable from photo ops and various television segments across the country. The other took a minute for Crystal to place, but when she did her eyes widened in disbelief. Just how long had Skitter been gone?
Instead of the gawky teenager depicted in the file or an inhuman force of nature, Taylor Hebert could have passed as a member of the Protectorate. She was wearing basic PRT fatigues, but held herself with absolute confidence.
Each motion was efficient, each step fully self assured, while her gaze was hidden behind a simple but personalized domino mask in her old colors. The fact that she could easily pass as in her late twenties completed the picture.
Looking up from a tablet, the aged up Skitter took in the room at a glance. The remaining Protectorate members, New Wave and the Wards looked back. Maintaining her gaze for a second, she frowned before sighing.
Removing her mask, Taylor shot Director Piggot a glare. "It might be nice if you would respect my right to privacy one of these days. Instead of, you know, broadcasting my backstory to the entire world."
Meeting her gaze squarely, Director Piggot did not back down. "That ship sailed when the Nine decided to name drop you. Given what you went through, do you think I'm going to take the slightest chance of any misunderstanding compromising our effectiveness, if I can prevent it?"
Rolling her eyes, Taylor Hebert sat down. "Well too late to do anything about it now. So why don't we start talking about the Nine and how much of a pain in the ass this is going to be. You know, after I apparently break everyone's brains with the secrets of the Multiverse. Again." Seeing members of the Protectorate twitch at the claim, Crystal had a sinking sensation that the comment was not a joke.
I stare at the complete roster of New Wave, the ENE Protectorate and Wards and all I can think is that it would be nice to have a secret identity.
Piggot's point was legitimate, but it also weakened my own position, making me reliant upon their good will. That would have to be the first thing to change. "Well, if we are all on the same page concerning my identity, let's start talking about what I can bring to the table."
Taking a deep breath for a distraction, I continued. "I learned quite a bit about our world from my time away. Since Alexandria is apparently still twitchy from hearing about some of the true secrets of the Multiverse, we're going to stick with kiddy version of revelations concerning the Nine. Specifically, what sort of gossip I heard about them while out and about."
Holding her hand up, Glory Girl interupted. "Hold on, are you telling us that multidimensional beings spend their time gossiping about a pack of serial killers? Really? Don't they have better things to talk about? Like, I don't know, what multidimensional horror they have killed lately or something?"
Picturing some of the people the blonde was describing, I snorted. "Oh, defeating horrors from beyond time and space is old hat. No, they like to gossip because the Multiverse provides the tools to see any possible rumor or opinion actually happen. When you can travel through time and space, influencing an alternate variant of a Universe is the easy stuff. They have betting pools over the weirdest debates, you have no idea."
Clearing his throat, Gallant interjected. "From that description, you could theoretically have a lot of information about us as well. After all, we've been on PHO before. Somehow, I doubt that these individuals you dealt with focused on the Nine exclusively."
Ah, that made them all twitch! Not so much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?
Smirking, I fixed the knight archetype a look. "Oh, the debates were fairly wide ranging, and the Nine were not the greatest focus of discussion. But, before anyone has a panic attack, there is a downside to this. Limitless variation means information saturation. The broad strokes of the data is fairly consistent, but details like age, hair color or sexual preferences are all variable between realities. So, there are limits to how much practical knowledge you can gain. The Nine however, just like a number of other people, have several trends that are stable. That is what I can share with you."
In the silence that followed, Legend stepped up to the plate. "Well then, please outline the trends that the Nine have to start. I'm sure we can discuss other topics at a later point." Which would probably distract them all from the implications for the short term.
Good show, Legend.
Looking around, I sighed. It felt cliche, but I knew what I would have to do next.
"Can someone get me a white board, please? This might take a bit."
Pulling the white board out of storage, Vista fought to maintain her composure. The idea that the Nine were in town was bad enough.
But knowing that there was a whole group of these cosmic beings watching their lives like some sort of television show was just plain freaky. Insinuating that they could change the script, leading to who knows what happening did not help either.
But, worst of all, knowing that the Parahuman before her, who notably believed in escalation and not holding back had that data? One who had a pretty notable grudge against the Protectorate and PRT? Well, Vista knew she would not be sleeping well tonight.
Standing up, Skitt..no Taylor took one of the pens and began writing. "The Nine get a lot of attention because they tend to resonate with their audience. Either they are a group that the observers in question can torture and torment without feeling guilty. Or, they are a bunch of twisted souls who are misunderstood and can be redeemed by the force of honor and love. It honestly depends on who you speak to."
Clockblocker snorted. "Wait, you are telling me that Jack Slash has interdimensional fan girls? Really? Why the hell would anyone try to love that monster?"
Blinking, Taylor shook her head. "Actually, Burnscar and Bonesaw have bigger fan bases. Both were tragically left with powers that overwhelmed them, and Jack made sure to develop those traits as much as he could. Burnscar is usually getting positive emotional reenforcement by using her power. Bonesaw, on the other hand, was twisted and continuously traumatized by Jack after her Trigger Event. There are legions of creatures who like the idea of saving them from their horrible fate. Any fans that Jack has? Well, haven't you ever heard of groupies for Death Row Inmates? Same idea, only larger."
Trying to wrap her mind around the commentary, Vista looked over the board. While talking about developing a pair of psychotic Capes fan bases, the brunette had finished writing. The board now divided into three sections, each with their own headers. Taylor then continued her earlier train of thought. "Membership Candidates, and Tricks; these are the three elements that make or break a Slaughterhouse Nine attack and what we can best prepare for."
Under the Membership line, Taylor began writing again. "The current membership of the Nine includes the following. Jack Slash, Bonesaw, Mannequin, Siberian, Shatterbird, Crawler, and Burnscar. The variables that cause the most difficulties involve any Other, unidentified members."
Frowning, Miss Militia cleared her throat. "From our most recent files, they have confirmed at least two additional members. One is Hatchet Face, a Brute who can nullify power expressions. The other is some sort of teleporter that was seen at a distance about a week ago." That made the Bug Master wince.
Continuing her scribbling, the lecture proceeded. "That clears up the probable identities of their additional membership. Usually, by this point in their timeline, the Slaughterhouse has three additional members. The first two are actually Bonesaw creations that she made from other capes. Pagoda is a hybrid construct of Carnal and Prophet. He has significant regenerative abilities, able to take a ridiculous amount of damage. Murder Rat is a hybrid construct made from Mouse Protector and Ravager, with a Striker and Mover skill set from both of them."
That comment made Vista feel horrible. She had been raised on Mouse Protector media! Several of the people at this table had worked with the woman! It was the worst sort of news!
Legend raised a hand, face solemn. "Are you sure that the Slaughterhouse Nine captured Mouse Protector? That she has been twisted into their minion?"
Nodding, Taylor sighed. "If they have an unknown teleporter, then there is a very high probability that they have Murder Rat. As I understand it, Mouse Protector and Ravager had a Kiss/Kill dynamic due to being members of a Cluster Trigger. The story goes that Ravager hired the Slaughterhouse Nine in order to take down her rival, they did so, then killed both women to demonstrate how they were not for sale. Bonesaw has been experimenting with power manipulation, and both Pagoda and Murder Rat are more or less proof of concept pieces. Unless you can find proof that Mouse Protector has been active since this unknown member appeared, that is my best guess as to what happened."
Miss Militia has been frantically checking her phone, only to slump. "Mouse hasn't sent me anything in over a month. The timeline would fit for the appearance of the Slaughterhouse Nine's teleporter." Fixing Taylor with a look, the Heroine asked the question no one should ask when dealing with the Nine. "Can she be saved?"
Rubbing her eyes, Taylor returned the Heroine's look with one of her own. "It is very unlikely. Bonesaw wasn't gentile and Murder Rat is not particularly stable. I would definitely not get my hopes up if I were you."
Raising his hand, Weld decided to interject. Vista mentally thanked their new leader for the diversion. "You said that they had three members, but you haven't named Hatchet Face so far. Is he still a member or isn't he?"
Nodding in response, she wrote down a new name. "Actually, if the timeline is correct, he would not be a member. From what I have heard, a Master decided that the best way to escape from her abusive family was to get some serious protection. She was a little full of herself where her powers are concerned, so she thought that taking over the Slaughterhouse Nine would be her best bet. So, Cherish killed Hatchet Face in order to get an audition for the Nine. Obviously, she is in a little over her head right now."
Dragon interupted. "I'm sorry, but Cherish? A Human Master who can track and influence emotions? I've got a report on her. If we are talking about the same person that is."
Smirking, Taylor nodded. "You are most likely thinking of the right kid, Dragon. A Human Master who is in over her head and thought that the Slaughterhouse Nine would protect her from her family. Heartbreaker's kids are effectively cult babies, so common sense isn't always the most common with them. She mostly ditched her father and the Heartbroken because she has too much ambition and her father is not driven enough for her tastes. Jack saw through Cherish from day one, but is mostly keeping her around for his own amusement. Don't underestimate her though. She can track emotions on a city wide scale, and can manipulate them to a fine degree. If she wasn't so focused on personal power instead of body counts, she would fit right in as a member of the Nine."
Looking at the list of monsters opposing them, Vista swallowed her fear. If those assholes thought they were going to take down her town, then she would show them what she was made of! No matter how scary they were!
Looking over the list of the Slaughterhouse Nine and the tidbits that Hebert was sharing, Kid Win was beginning to wish he had taken a transfer anywhere else.
Brockton Bay was a death trap without a horde of Murder Hobos! Still, if he was going to survive this, he had better pay attention. Then maybe he could pick the girl's knowledge about his speciality and possible projects.
Moving under the second column, Taylor began speaking again. "Now, in addition to wanting to target me for my knowledge, the Nine are going to have their Candidates. The problem is, with the atypical results of the Leviathan fight, some of the more common options might not be in play. Each full member gets to chose a target, and then put said target through a series of personalized tests."
Continuing her lecture, the Master started writing new names. "The most likely Candidates that would not change include Panacea for Bonesaw, Bitch for the Siberian, Armsmaster for Mannequin, Hookwolf for Shatterbird, and Labyrinth for Burnscar. Jack Slash and Crawler both tend to target individuals who may not be in play. Oni Lee for Jack Slash and Echidna for Crawler. If Cherish is around, then Regent would be the final Candidate."
Clearing her throat, Director Piggot fixed Taylor with her best glare. "I have so many questions about those names, but I can assure you that Oni Lee is off the table. He tried to launch an attack on the PRT after the memorial and Alexandria shut him down. He is currently in the Boston office waiting for transportation to the Bird Cage. But first of all, who is Echidna and why is she no longer a concern?"
Taking a deep breath, Taylor responded. "Echidna was a hidden member of the Travelers. Her Trigger event went very, very wrong, so Vortex and I had to handle her while rescuing Coil's hostage. Effectively, she was a Trump/Master/Brute combination that was only a few steps below an Endbringer. She could generate copies of people via skin contact, or absorb them for long term control. She would then generate evil clones with warped personalities and powers who were utterly devoted to her. Vortex managed to get her under control and remove her as a factor. She's with the other Travelers off world now."
Blinking, as if she had not heard that Coil was keeping an A class threat in his basement, Director Piggot continued. "Fair enough, but we will need to figure out their replacements. Also, while most of those names make sense in the context of the Nine, why would Cherish want to target Regent? That seems suspiciously random."
Shrugging, Taylor responded. "Crawler focuses on Capes who can damage him. With Lung and Echidna gone, he might just decide to skip it this time. Jack may just select me depending on how we interact, but I doubt it. He likes tools, not potential competition. As for Cherish? Well, she sort of wants Regent dead. For the majority of people, a nomination is a death sentence so she is just trying to be efficient." Despite his best efforts, hearing that sort of explanation being provided so calmly made Chris twitch. No matter how long she had been gone, or what the circumstances were, Skitter was still a nightmare to deal with.
Looking over the information that Miss Hebert had been supplying, Lady Photon now knew why she had been in such demand.
With just hints and rumors, they already knew more about the probable current membership of the Nine then half the PRT and Protectorate combined. In comparison, just the thought of what might have been said about the Protectorate, Wards or even the Triumvirate made her squirm. After this crisis was past, she was going to have a long talk with the Insect Master.
Focusing on the third column, the brunette sighed. "Finally, the Tricks of the group. Now, keep in mind that the Nine are filled with twisted, creative monsters. So any specific plans are very, very difficult to confirm. Anyone attacking them should be prepared for anything. However, of all the possibilities, these three are the ones you need to be aware of the most."
Writing, she underlined the name Bonesaw once again. "First, there is a very good chance that Bonesaw has developed or is the process of developing an Agnosia Plague. If that gets released, it would be a disaster."
Choking, Amy stood up anger. "Disaster? That would be a catastrophe! No one would be able to identify anyone by sight or sound! The Slaughterhouse would be able to walk around freely and we wouldn't have a clue!"
Nodding, Taylor responded. "You are correct, which is why forewarned is forearmed. In all honesty, you may be our best option to prevent a localized apocalypse. So stay safe and close to the people you trust." Seeing her niece pale before collapsing in her seat, Sarah made a mental note to talk to the teen later. That was a very large amount of pressure to put on anyone, let alone the already stressed Panacea.
When she saw the next name, the leader of New Wave swallowed nervously. Anything concerning the Siberian would be a mine field. Particularly if her niece was targeted by the monsters sense of humor as the local Alexandria package. "The Siberian has a number of notable abilities which can give anyone a very bad day. That being said, their trick is nasty, but workable. Dragon, can you pull up those pictures I asked you about?"
The conference room projector activated, putting three images on the wall. The first was a clear shot of the Siberian in all her Glory, covered in blood and viscera. The second was of a young woman who could have been the Brute's twin, without the black and white coloration. The third was a man Sarah distinctly remembered from the Newspapers more than a decade ago.
Pointing at the last figure, Taylor frowned. "Meet William Manton, better known for his discovery of the Manton Effect. The Siberian is his ultimate trick, based upon the image of his dead daughter. He is a Master and the Siberian is his Projection, hence why it can ignore physics. She simply isn't real. He is known to follow the Slaughterhouse Nine around in a van in order to keep up with his projection's speed. There is a distance limit, but I am not sure of what it is. Be warned, however, that he has had Simurgh exposure in the past and is heavily unpredictable as a result."
This time, is was Battery who had to interrupt the discussion. "Miss Hebert, William Manton supposedly died years ago. Are you telling us that he has actually been driving around with the Slaughterhouse Nine this whole time?" Frowning, Sarah tried to remember when he had been reported dead. Oddly, she could not remember the exact date, just that he had withdrawn from public life more and more before disappearing.
Snorting, the younger Parahuman again shook her head. "No, he got wrapped up in a shady organization that was doing human experiments while studying powers. His daughter was ill and they claimed that their techniques could heal their test subjects. She had a bad reaction to the process and in the end we have a crazed William Manton running around looking to lash out at a world without his daughter in it. Also, he has an unhealthy fixation on Bonesaw as a surrogate guy is certifiable on multiple levels, but take him down and there is no monstrous projection killing us all." That shut the Heroine down cold.
Writing a third name on the board, Taylor underlined it three times. "Now for the biggest, nastiest trick in the deck. Jack Slash and the secret of how he has been leading a group of murderous Parahumans for over two decades. The true nature of his power makes any Parahuman attack against him worthless and a waste of time."
Blinking, Sarah could not help but ask, "Wait, why is a Parahuman attack against Jack Slash worthless and a waste of time? Members of the Nine have been killed a number of times over the years. So why not target the leader of the group with the same methods?"
Closing her eyes, Taylor sighed. "Because everyone focuses too much on the minor expression of his power. The projection of blade edges is a minor variant of his true power, "Communication." Jack Slash is able to subconsciously communicate with the powers of Parahumans, allowing him to say the right things to make them dance to his tune. Of course, he thinks that he is just that clever, but it also effects his view of non powered people. They literally don't feel like they are real to him, so he views them more or less as part of the scenery. I believe the Fairy Queen has a similar issue."
Smaking the board, she turned her gaze over everyone in the room. "What that means in practical terms is that no Parahuman can hide their intentions from him. Every strike, every attack and every strategy is being whispered in this bastards ear as long as it is being done by a Parahuman. An unpowered human would be his biggest problem, if not for the pack of psychopath's he can use like a personal strike force. So, any Parahumans should attack everyone besides Jack Slash if they want to succeed. Unless they can randomly neutralize his powers somehow."
Pinching her nose, Director Piggot growled. "That makes too much damned sense. How long were you planning on holding onto that little tidbit Miss Hebert?"
Clearing his throat, Legend interjected. "Actually, that was included in the information that Alexandria obtained during a prior discussion. The full scope and details are still being analyzed. Otherwise, we would have had a report ready for your review."
Face twisting as if she had bitten a lemon, Director Piggot leaned back in her chair. "Well, better late than never I suppose. Any further data you would like to share before we start going over plans, Miss Hebert?"
Frowning, Taylor Hebert leaned forward. "There are a few things, but I have a question. The server that Jack described. The one that he found from Coil's operations? What else was on it?"
Clearing her throat, Dragon interjected. "The server was mostly wiped, but I did confirm the presence of meta data that would be considered at least level two. That would include personal information about Parahumans in their civilian identities."
Eyes widening, Taylor crossed her arms. "Well, if Coil was the one who set up that server, I'd check every family member of every Ward and Protectorate member at once. The bastard did not care about the Unwritten Rules and would have had no issue gathering that information. After all, he's the one who unmasked the Empire 88. The last thing you want is the Nine to have that information."
Blinking, the Director shot off a text. "So noted, Miss Hebert. Now then, since you have given us so much information, why don't we work on making it something useful. Comments people?" Seeing the forest of hands going up, Sarah knew that this was going to take a while.
Skipping along the road, the little blonde girl whistled a happy tune. She had been feeling so stuffy, so constrained lately. But here in Brockton Bay there were two things that she desperately needed. First, a great big sister that was going to make her work so much more amazing! Second, someone who was new and different that could inspire her to new heights! Mister Jack had the right idea bringing the family here to play!
Still, the wet Tinker had been feeling cooped up at their current hide out. Everyone else had gotten to play with the Merchants while she had been busy with her party favors. They had needed all sorts of maintenance before being deployed, and Crawler had made sure that she had no proper parts to work with by eating their Parahumans! Why, he barely got thirty four new immunities from the meal. It hardly seemed worth it!
But Mister Jack had come through for her. He had learned about some people who would be all sorts of fun to play with. Heck, she would be making them better! It could be her good deed for the day! Feeling a signal from her helper spider, Bonesaw smirked. That was one protective detail taken care of.
Waking up the walkway, the Bonesaw knocked at a particular house. The horrified face that met her made all the effort worth it! "Hello Mrs. Biron! I'm here to give you and your ex-husband some much need counseling! Family should stick together, after all!"
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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 16
Easy now, snip the mutated RNA strands there and there. Good, now how about...oh you little psychotic bitch! Fine, a steady rate of degradation means that I have to adjust the maturation rate in waves. That should ensure that everything goes off without a hitch. Just adjust the protein chains slightly...and there we go!
Panacea carefully monitored the effects of her efforts. Cells that had been on the verge of rupture slowly regained stability. Chemical imbalances returned to normal levels, indicating all the subjects life signs were going from toxic waste dump to healthy. But, most importantly, the three pockets of altered enzymes that had been stored in her patient's nasal cavity were disabled and undone. That meant no attacks on the brain and nothing she absolutely could not fix.
Ensuring that all traces of the altered biotechnology were accounted for, Amy exited the isolation chamber before enduring their decontamination protocols. Even if her power protected her from biological attack, no one wanted the healer to become a carrier by accident. Finally free of the self contained cell, she met with the remaining family of the victim. "He's going to be okay, and I even took care of that cancer. So you can breathe again, Dennis."
Clockblocker, sans helmet, sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "Thanks Amy, I owe you one. Any idea if he was targeted or was this a bad luck thing? The universe would love to laugh about one of us being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Wincing at the pun, the healer leaned against the wall. God she needed a fucking smoke. "I'd bet my allowance for the year it was targeted. The other people in the hospital ward were doused with fairly standard stuff. Some flesh eating pathogens, a couple of hidden biological bombs, and maybe an early attempt at a zombie virus. Honestly, I think Bonesaw was clearing out her storage. But your father was dosed with a binary bacterial infestation. It was causing advanced metastasis in his existing cancer, but if you had attempted to freeze him, it would have altered the organisms biological clock. That would have made things go very, very bad nearly instantaneously. There is no way a nut job from the Nine would ignore that kind of irony."
Taking a deep breath, the Hero joined her leaning against the wall. "Well, thank you again for that. I guess I'm just lucky. Weld and Flechette don't have family in town and Chris's parents were evacuated before Leviathan. But Vista is still waiting on word about her folks turning up while five agents in the protection detail are dead. I would hate to see what would have happened if we had waited much longer."
Which could be put at the feet of the one bitch who had become reasonable somehow. Although, if she ever met Coil in person, Amy knew SOMEONE would be having all the runs for the rest of their life.
Giving her a look, Dennis frowned. "Seriously though, are you doing okay, Amy? I mean, I know you are dealing with a lot, but you know we're on your side right? That little crazy pipsqueak isn't getting you without a fight." The healer fought the urge to palm slap her head. Not this again.
Ever since the debriefing, Amy had to deal with all sorts of attempts at support. She had nearly the entire Wards roster approach her, swearing they would keep her safe. Her family and the Protectorate had all stepped forward as well. In fact, the only ones at that meeting not to take such a step forward were Director Piggot and Hebert herself. Contrary to popular belief, it was not a step she really appreciated. It reminded her too much of desperate family members lying to their terminal relatives at the Hospital.
She was a candidate for the Slaughterhouse Nine. Nothing would ever really be okay again.
Before the healer could come up with some sort of believable response, they were interupted by a cough. Looking up, both teens were faced with the unsmiling face of Legend. "Clockblocker, I hope that your father is recovering?"
Falling into a salute, the teen winced. Grabbing and replacing his helmet, Clockblocker saluted properly this time. "Yes sir, Panacea was able to defuse whatever that little monster did to him. He just needs some rest and food before getting back to a hundred percent, sir!" Panacea would have snorted at the display if not for the audience. She had an idea what the Triumvirate member was here to discuss.
Nodding, the leader of the Protectorate stepped to the side. "Very well then. Why don't you head to the Wards Quarters for now. I believe that they have arranged for some pizza and you need to keep up your strength. I need to speak with Miss Dallon for a few minutes about some of what we've recovered from the scene." Seeing his body tense, Amy waved him off. Dennis' presence would not really change anything.
Then it was just the two of them lone in the corridor. Fixing her with a look, the head of the Protectorate turned around. "Walk with me, Panacea. I think we need to have a chat."
Remembering how their last chat had went, Amy snorted. "Is this going to be another try at making Hebert and I best buddies? Or are you looking for someone to yell at again?"
Fixing her with a look, Legend smirked. "We're just going to talk Miss Dallon. I don't plan on yelling if you don't. As to Taylor, well, she has another meeting that is long overdue." Curiosity peaked, Amy followed the Hero.
I look at the door before me, ignoring the PRT guards. Legend had pulled me to the side, informing me that my father had been moved to the base for his own safety. Of course, my attorney had asked to reschedule for a time where we were not in the middle of an attack, so I was at loose ends until we took action.
Then the PRT had been distracted by discovering attacks on Ward families. Which meant people were listening to my advice at least.
Now, needing to coordinate containment protocols with Panacea, Legend had left me with instructions to clear the air with my father. I almost asked to tag along with him instead, but stopped myself at the last minute. The less I involved myself with the biokenetic the better.
Sighing, I knocked on the door. Might as well get this over with.
The shuffling steps before the door opened told me all I needed to know. Daniel Hebert was not enjoying his stay with the PRT. He was tired, frustrated and scared, all wrapped up in a single, volatile package. Seeing his angry visage which morphed to shock upon realizing I was at the door did nothing to change my opinion.
But hearing him say, "Annette?" That...that actually hurt.
Frowning, I pushed past him. "Not quite. Apparently, we have some things to discuss, "Dad." So let's get in here and talk so that we can move on with our lives." Hearing his strangled counter should not have filled me with satisfaction.
But it did.
Looking across the desk, Legend fought to maintain his composure. This had been a difficult week for a number of reasons, and now he was stuck in an S class emergency, babysitting a VIP. The last thing he really needed right now was another major danger to balance. But the teen across from him could cause all sorts of trouble if he did not handle this conversation carefully.
Panacea had been on his radar for a while. Healing powers were known, but not exactly common. So when a teen who could perfectly regrow limbs and cure cancer appeared just a few States over, he made sure to remember the name. Her later performances did nothing to change his mind. The girl was special, and still developing as a hero. Despite her recent issues those facts had not changed.
It was one of the reasons that this was going to be a difficult conversation. "Panacea, how are you feeling? Are you having any issues while on base?" What remained unsaid was more important, but Legend knew she would put the pieces together. She was a stressed and jaded teenager, but not completely stupid.
Leaning back, Panacea sent him a smirk. "Well, most of the Heroes in residence have promised to protect me. Most of the PRT troopers are looking at me like I am a time bomb. As to whatever Taylor Hebert currently is, we've been avoiding each other. Too much baggage to bother with right now. I don't see that changing any time soon."
Wincing at the reminder, Legend put it to the side. Taylor Hebert was not the reason for this meeting after all.
Taking a deep breath, the Hero decided to dive right in. "I understand that our last conversation did not go very well, but that is not why I wanted to talk to you. I've been in my position for longer than you have been alive. As a result, when I see certain things, I notice patterns. So, Panacea, I am going to ask you if you are sure you are feeling alright just one more time."
Frowning, the teenager turned away. "I'm being targeted by a psychopath who wants to turn me into her big sister. Why do you even need to ask?"
Closing his eyes, the leader of the Protectorate spoke. "Because, I saw you leaving the containment area after healing Clockblocker's father. That is the first time I have ever seen you smile naturally. Like dealing with an advanced piece of wet Tinkering was something interesting and fun. I've seen that sort of expression before, Panacea. Given the circumstances I have to ask, what are your real powers and their limits?"
The look of shock was all the confirmation he really needed.
Danny Hebert had been going through a day of headaches. First, he had been intercepted by PRT troopers and brought in for protective custody while on his way to the office. Second, his supposed attorney was not available because the PRT Building was on security lockdown after a recent attack. Third, he had been left in a room with no computer, television, or way to contact the outside world. By the time someone had bothered to knock on his door, the Dockworker was ready to bite rocks and spit sand.
So seeing his daughter for the first time without warning knocked him for a loop. The clear resemblance to her mother had not helped matters.
He had heard report after report from Calle and Miss Militia about Taylor's changes. But, despite that, it had not seemed real until he was facing the young woman in person. Taylor was taller, and looked like Annette had in college. But, physical resemblance aside, it was her attitude, her sense of presence that really made an impact. His daughter was someone used to respect, to people listening to her. It was extremely disorienting.
Now, he was sitting in silence as she reviewed his paperwork. He had gathered all the copies of the forms the PRT had him sign, with the intention of getting a second opinion. While the Dockworkers attorney had not yet returned from the Endbringer evacuation, Danny had hoped he could have provided a referral to someone cheap and reliable who was not being paid for by the PRT. With the home phone not working, taking the documents with him seemed like the best option at the time. Now it was feeling more and more inconvenient the longer Taylor kept her silence.
Putting the last piece of paper down, his daughter gave him a look. "Well, you didn't sell the cow for magic beans, but you came damn close. Do you realize how hard it is to find an independent lawyer with the appropriate security clearances to even talk about this stuff? I can see at least three sub clauses that will prevent you from suing them outright, and two that require months of mediation if you chose to turn down their offer. Is this how you normally negotiate your deals? You should know better."
Feeling his temper rise to the surface, Danny took a breath. Getting angry would not solve anything. "I wouldn't have done this with the Union because I would have some idea of what was going on before signing any paperwork. Instead, I had PRT agents descending on the house, refusing to even talk about the fact you existed unless I started signing papers. I thought you were dead, and then suddenly there was a chance you were not. I had to take it, no matter what." Wincing, he tried to dial it back a notch. "How did you understand everything so easily? Did you study law while you were...away?"
Scoffing, Taylor broke eye contact. "One of the keystones of training under Vortex was to understand the people around you. Language and how it was used are major factors in that. Legal language is just how two attorneys speak in order to come to an agreement on the behalf of their clients. Taken that way, since all the attorneys involved with this paperwork were on the same side, it was basically a kindergarten primer."
Swallowing, Danny tried to fight through the sheer acid in her tone. He had seen Taylor angry before, but this had to top every other time combined. It was almost like facing his father's temper again, only worse. Still, ignoring each other and refusing to talk had gotten them into this mess. So, as the adult, it was his responsibility to make things happen. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Giving him a look, his daughter took a deep breath before turning away. "Not in particular, no."
With that, the last of his temper snapped. "What do you want from me Taylor? What am I going to have to do to make you tell me anything? I mean, I sure as hell didn't hear you were a Cape from you. I didn't hear that you had robbed a bank or threatened to kill people from you. But, most importantly, I didn't hear that you were leaving the world for who knows how long from you! What do you want from me, so that we can just fucking talk?!" Breathing heavily, Danny refused to back down. Silence and compromise had ruined his family. He was going to fight to get it back, no matter what that took!
Sitting across from Legend, Amy had a flashback to an old nightmare. Once, after regrowing a patient's liver, she had gone home to a quiet meal and an early night. But, when her eyes had closed, images of newer livers, better livers taunted the healer until morning. She had barely stopped herself from grabbing a notebook and writing her ideas. They seemed so amazing, and so simple to implement! Then the screams started, as everyone around her died.
Touching one of the corpses revealed an engineered plague that was reformatting all the internal tissues of the victim into super efficient livers for transplant. She had apparently designed it while thinking of the problem, and breathed it upon those around her. The sheer horror was only stopped by a sniper bullet waking her up. Panacea had not slept well for a month after that.
Now, facing the head of the Protectorate, knowing that he knew at least part of her secrets, Amy felt that moment of horror and despair all over again. Yet, it also felt like it could finally bring her closure. She had precious little chance of that before now. Leaning back into her chair, Panacea met Legends gaze with her own. "Should I go call Carol for this?"
The Triumvirate Hero did not even raise an eyebrow. "We are currently in an S class emergency and you are being directly targeted by a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine. You would be shocked by what sort of legal rights I have to ensure everyone's safety. So, Panacea, I'll ask again, what exactly are your powers?"
Breathing deeply, the young Parahuman broke her silence. "Well, if it's biological I can manipulate it. Healing is easy, but I can theoretically improve things as well. I can completely comprehend the nature of anything biological that I touch, and the only real issues I have had involve not being able to directly self edit or unusual power aided biology such as Case 53's. Oh, and I don't do brains as opposed to can't do brains. I think that covers the broad strokes." Just like that, years of lies and half truths were undone.
To his credit, Legend did not flinch from the truth. Instead, he sighed. "Panacea...Amy, I'm sorry you felt you had to hide. However, I can understand your logic and concerns. But there will have to be changes after this. I hope you understand that."
Feeling fatalistic, the revealed wet Tinker laughed. "Sure, you sign a kill order and I am sent far, far away where I can't be a threat. Is this the point where you fly me to the Bird Cage because I'm too scary? Or are you going to put me against Bonesaw and hope we kill each other? I mean, it doesn't matter what I do, I'm never going to be accepted."
Then, the Hero did the one thing that she was not expecting. Despite the threat of her very existence, Legend took her bare hand in his own. "Amy, I have been a Parahuman for a long time. I helped create the Protectorate and the Wards program. Do you really think I don't understand how dangerous you could be? But, in my opinion, there are far greater dangers in the world then helping you out."
Still shocked by the sign of trust, Amy swallowed. "Don't you understand? I could be the next Bonesaw. No I could make her seem like a rank amateur!" Taking her hand back, she stared at the man before her. "How can you even bare to look at me?"
Sighing, Legend suddenly looked old. "I can look at you and talk to you because I've seen how people like you get like this. I've seen young Wards scared by their powers end up consumed by fear. I've seen people desperate enough not to be thought of as a monster die because they could not go all out. I was there when Hero helped to develop the initial Protectorate guidelines for Tinkers and their needs. Further research into that sort of phenomenon has failed to change the first five guidelines that he wrote. The one you might need to hear is that "A Tinker needs to Tinker. Denying that does not go well." Of all the friends I have had over the years, Hero never let me down, so I would never doubt his advice."
Frowning, they were suddenly the leader of the Protectorate once more. "If you were a Ward, Glen Chambers would have had you focus on healing for the public. But in private you would have been given more variety and more options. In my experience, denying any aspect of your power tends to cause a blowback effect when not properly addressed. You don't want to change brains? Your power will push you in that direction until something gives. Working on plants or insects would probably be the best thing for you. Easily disposable life forms that would help scratch that Tinker itch. But just healing must be exhausting you, and that helps no one."
Really wanting a smoke, Panacea closed her eyes. "So, what happens now?"
Standing, Legend extended his hand once again. "Now? Now I take you to the Wards room to get some pizza. Then, I go collect Miss Hebert from her meeting in order to maintain her security. Longer term? We kill the Nine, prevent them from getting any new recruits, and look into what would be the best option for helping you going forward. At least, that's as far as I've managed to plan so far."
Still feeling like a fraud, Amy nevertheless took the extended hand. Stressed or not, she was kind of hungry.
Looking at the infuriated form of my father, I pause. The old litany of excuses wrap around my mind like a soggy blanket. Phrases like "He tried his best!" and "I should have told him, so it was mostly my fault!" ring in my ears. These were the excuses of childhood. I was done with them just as I was done with dealing with the mistakes of this man.
But blind rage would not serve my purpose, and accomplish less than nothing in the end.
Taking a breath to center myself, I decide to address his complaints as best as I could. "You want to know why I didn't tell you about my powers? Why I did not reach out to get help? Why I did not tell you before making a deal with some random Cape who had just killed a monster? It's simple really. You have proven time and time again that I am better without your input. Nothing more, and nothing less."
Eyes widening, he acts as if I had punched him. Predictable and honestly a little sad. "That's not fair. You refused to talk with me! You didn't tell me things. How am I supposed to help if you leave me in the cold?" Of course, my decisions all had to center around his needs, or his ideals. That was more annoying than anything else.
Fixing him with a look, I could almost see the moment when he saw Mom's ghost in my eyes. That was monumentally frustrating. "Fine, then let's look at your reaction to the biggest event you did know about. I was stuffed into a locker filled with toxic waste. It caused me to get super powers, sure, but it also was enabled by a school that didn't want to admit any responsibility and paid you off with an embarrassingly small amount of money. Now, what was your response?"
Swallowing, Danny Hebert dropped his gaze. "No one would tell me anything, and the cops dropped the case because of a lack of evidence. I reached out to Alan, and he said that it would degenerate into a big match that we would probably lose because the school system would outlast us. So I did what I needed to in order to get you medical help, and made them swear to look out for you."
Yes, that sounded like what I remembered. How disappointing. "So, you never threatened to blacklist Winslow using every marker you had with the Union? You never demanded to know why the police dropped the case? You didn't think to demand that I be removed from a clearly abusive environment and enrolled in homeschooling, despite my half assed complaints? Interesting how you have the balls to act like a parent when I am the only one you answer to, but when it involves fighting to win? You just make excuses, hiding behind some rule or regulation that makes it just that more difficult."
He collapsed backwards, his face suddenly pale. At least he was listening this time.
However, holding back would accomplish nothing at this point. "I didn't tell you because you were part of a system that used and abused me for nearly two years. I knew that, if I had told you, suddenly I would be stuck in the Wards, with another bunch of cliques that I wouldn't fit in with. I wanted my actions to have meaning, not be guided by PR outreach or some stupid narative. I wanted to prove that I had what it took, and that I could make it on my own."
I took another breath, knowing it was time to dial it back a notch. "I won't claim all my decisions were the right ones, but I learned from them. What have you really learned from this, Daniel Hebert? How have you grown?"
As expected, the man was silent.
Sighing, I headed towards the door. "Before you can even begin to expect a relationship with me again, I need to see that you are willing to put the work in. Get therapy, join a support group, or Hell, just reach out to your friends for advice. But if you just use this as another excuse to shut down, then we are done. Remember that."
Knocking on the door, I nodded to the guard to be released.
Danny Hebert was part of my past. If he ever wanted to be a part of my future, then I was fucking done enabling him.
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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 17
The clock on the wall said it was eleven twenty three in the morning. It was time for him to begin reorganizing his projects based upon updated viability. Then he would consume a protein bar, a mineral shake and allow ten minutes of personal time to allow for proper digestion. It was an odd numbered day, so he would have to make sure he focused on his upper body workout, because he had a foot patrol in the evening. Doing his leg workout would just cause excess strain and undermine his effectiveness when out. He needed to make sure that he could bring his A game after...after...
It was eleven twenty three in the morning and Colin Wallis was lying in bed, too tired to move.
The crackle of static was the only warning he was going to have to communicate. "Hello, Colin. I had the troopers bring you something from the Mess. Please, at least try to finish it this time." With that, one of his dearest friends turned jailor went silent.
A part of him wanted to ignore the request. Colin had been stripped of everything that had given his life meaning. He was no longer a Protectorate Hero. He could no longer Tinker, or work on personal projects. He could not contact a single person outside his holding area and other than Dragon, no one had made the effort to talk to him. He was nothing more than a failure who had overreached his abilities and was burned for it.
Colin Wallis got out of his bed and headed over to his rations. It was mostly a puree of protein powders and starches, flavored into some approximation of turkey in gravy. As a captured, well known Tinker, he was not supplied any metal utensils. Instead, the rations were on a paper plate held by a composite tray, along with stiff strips of bread to use as a delivery system. If he failed to finish, the whole thing would melt into an unmistakable mush. Even his chemistry skills would fail to make something useful out of that, and Dragon would catch any attempts.
It took him fourteen minutes to finish the meal, interrupted by the occasional sip of water. The remnants of the tray was put into a waste receptacle that would break it down completely. After a disinfectant process, the resulting byproduct would be safely burned in the biohazard lab. He could have quoted every step from memory, since he helped to develop the protocol. He did not. There was no point.
Returning to the bed, Colin prepared for another bout of staring at the ceiling when the silence was shattered. For some reason, the speaker was blasting a series of loud bangs and screeches that some would charitably call music. He would call it further torment during the spectacle his life had become. "What is that noise?"
Just as abruptly as it had come, the sounds stopped. They were replaced by something the Tinker had never experienced before. Dragon being sarcastic. "Oh? So you can still speak? I'm glad to hear that only your pride was hurt. With how little you were responding to stimuli, I was close to calling a medical emergency."
Part of the cell unfolded, exposing a bathing area and fresh clothes. Both were items that he had been ignoring up until now. "Get your ass in the shower and then change, Colin. I am tired of watching you turn into a mushroom. I might not be happy with you or your actions, but I will be damned if I let you rot away like this. So prepare for a fucking lecture, you sorry excuse for a man."
Swallowing, Colin did as he was told. He had seen Dragon lecture people before, and had admired her efficient method of breaking down idiots. Being on the receiving end would be unpleasant, but it could be worse.
He could feel like a failure to one of his last, true friends again.
Whistling, Cherie Vasil wandered the streets of Brockton Bay. Jack had set them loose on the city, with instructions to stretch their legs before seeking out their candidates. After spending days stuck with Bonesaw and the Siberian, the young Master was never going to turn down a chance to get out and about. Particularly if she was going to really cut loose and prove herself a true member of the Nine.
Her life and what was left of her sanity depended on it.
Running a hand through her hair, Cherie closed her eyes and Cherish opened them. The sounds of the city washed over her, showing where all the little darlings were hiding today. In a town like Brockton Bay, even the dumbest moron knew you did not go out and play under a Bonesaw project. But if she was going to cement her place with the Nine, really make a name for herself, she would need players to set the scene.
It would have to be epic, glorious and beyond the pale. So she was going to have to practice, practice, practice until everything was a dazzling spray of blood and gore.
Suddenly, a broken note cut through the symphony of fear and desperation. It was a familiar note, and one she was curious to hear. Like a childhood rhythm that just would not leave her be, Cherie started dancing down the street.
None of the horn blasts or violin solos were as captivating as that familiar little slice of home. Perfect to pluck just one last time.
Dragon viewed one of her closest friends and all she wanted to do was smack him. Colin had showered and changed, so he no longer looked like a drugged out college student. Instead, he looked like a depressed, recovering general drug addict. In addition to his isolation, the lack of Tinkering and structure was probably driving him insane.
That being said, her empathy dial was turned down as low as it could go right now.
Taking a mental breath, the Hero glared at Colin through the cells video feed. "Now that you are no longer letting the clothes on your back rot off, I think that it's far past time that we talk. You have been moping for days and I am fed up with it."
Taking a breath, Colin looked up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Dragon. I don't know what you want me to say. I cannot Tinker here. I cannot exercise or do anything productive. My lifes ambition is over, and I don't know what to do now. Assuming that I am going to have a lot of choices in the near future."
Mentally counting to five, the AI wished once again that she had a physical body. It would make screaming, stalking away and shaking people so much more satisfying. "Colin, you broke the Truce. You took technology we developed together to fight Endbringers and utilized it to assassinate Capes during a major collaborative fight. You set up a teenager to die because she was pissing you off by winning when she had no business doing so. Are you really surprised that people might have had a problem with that?" Closing his eyes, Colin sighed.
Dragon had known Colin for a very long time. This was probably the first period of enforced inactivity he had endured for years. The very fact that he was not screaming or ranting was honestly a good sign. Other Tinkers in these circumstances would have probably punched a hole in the wall. But Mr. Wallis was made of sterner stuff.
Having said that, Dragon was not interested in letting him get introspective again. "Your case is still under review and no final decision has been made yet. There are a lot of people who need to be involved in that discussion, and they are somewhat distracted. I did not just wake you up because I was tired of the moping. The Director gave me permission to discuss a crisis Brockton Bay is dealing with. Active or not, you need to be informed of the details."
Blinking, the former Armsmaster leaned forward in his seat. Wasting no time, Dragon began to speak.
Sighing, Alec left the apartment, tired of the atmosphere and people. Lisa and Brian were both a bundle of nerves, while Bitch was just looking over her dogs and ignoring everyone else. Aisha was fun to hang out with, but she was focused on the chaos a bit much for his current taste. Between that and finishing his latest game? He had no reason to stick around.
Looking at the display floating in the sky, Regent had to admit that it was creative. Heartbreaker was focused more on psychological trauma than anything, but that did not keep him from appreciating the occasional bit of body horror. The young Master knew that any second, one of those flesh balloons could pop, releasing who knew what into the atmosphere. But, given Bonesaw's reputation, being indoors was probably not much protection versus actually seeing the damn things. If he was going to be killed, he might as well appreciate the artistry for a bit.
Letting his senses expand, Alec could feel the taunt nerves surrounding him. He idly poked and prodded the sensation, never testing or activating his power. It was an itch that needed scratching, more than anything else. Given that their area was still half abandoned from the Endbringer attack, he could not feel too many people. Just enough to center himself before returning to a pit of drama and chaos.
That was when something familiar entered his range. Every persons nerves were unique, almost like finger prints. He could pick the Undersiders out of a lineup in Grue's darkness, or maybe unmask the Wards after all their recent encounters. But this stretched bundle of tension was even more familiar, and very unexpected.
Unexpected was not a good thing when it came to his family.
Colin found himself, at that moment in time, unexpectedly thankful for his PR training. The hours of practice maintaining his calm for the cameras was the only thing keeping him from throwing a chair at the wall. "The Slaughterhouse Nine are in town, and the Director believes that I am a probable Candidate. So, as before, I will be held here without contact. Only this time I will know that a band of S class threats are targeting me and that I am helpless."
After her earlier sarcasm, Dragon had apparently calmed down. At least, she was presenting as fully sympathetic to his plight. "You are banned from any Tinkering, and your lab on the Rig is still being salvaged. Kid Win and I are trying to get everything, but given how maintenance intensive your equipment tends to be, any older versions of your armor are currently inoperable. However, I have a suit that I am positioning right outside, and will do everything I can to keep you safe. I might be angry at you, but I do not want you dead."
Taking a breath, the former Hero decided to take the bull by the horns. Figuratively, not literally. He really missed his conversation prompt display. "You are also developing a plan centered around the efforts of criminals. In addition, key elements of your strategy are based on information provided by Skitter. Are you sure that is wise?"
When Dragon did not reply, Colin almost feared she had left the system. The prospect was...an unpleasant one. But then she spoke again and he felt calmer. It was a curious reaction. "The criminals left in Brockton Bay are not exactly paragon's of virtue and noble thought. But they are pragmatic and do not want to end up as statistics. Since we are not getting any additional help, they are the best option."
The pause was longer this time, building a sense of anxiety in his chest. "As to Skitter, she has not been that bad. She has not attacked anyone while in containment. She has offered respect when it is returned. But, all in all, she has been a pleasant conversationalist when not verbally sparing with her interrogators. I think that, no matter what else she learned in those other dimensions, Skitter has the potential to be a great Hero. The question now is how much can the PRT keep her under control."
Blinking, Colin faced the camera lenses, trying to wrap his brain around something illogical. At any other time with any other person, he could not pick up a clue to save his life. But, this was Dragon and no matter how he turned his head, the same facts remained. "You like her. You actually like Skitter. Not as a prisoner, or a subject, but as an actual person."
The lack of response was telling.
Cherish knew the moment that Jean-Paul felt her presence based upon a change in his tone. Given how hard it was for that to happen, the sensation was almost sweet. The girl could only guess that he HAD missed his Big Sister. Or as close to missing something as he could manage. Cherie should know. She felt the same way.
Stepping outside her cover, Cherish got a good look at him for the first time in years. Jean-Paul was still cute, in that idle rich sort of way. He had not become a blob attached to a video game, or lazy enough to have a thrall do all his walking for him. It was honestly more than she thought he could manage alone. "Hello, Jean-Paul. It has been a while."
Giving his sister a certain look, she felt the phantom pains of his power. Thankfully, she did not have to worry about that anymore. Annoyingly, neither did he. "It's Alec these days, Cherie. You're looking suspicious. Nice ink though."
Reflexively, the older Master looked down. Her shirt had slipped, revealing a section of Mannequin's test. Adjusting her shirt as best as she could, some sections were always visible despite such efforts. Jack would allow nothing else. "It was a pain to get, but sometimes you have to put in the effort when making new allies. The price of doing business really."
Pointedly looking at the Bonesaw projects floating above them, Jean-Paul snorted. "You have an interesting idea of what makes an ally. The gangs around here used ink, sure. But they didn't like to torture people into art projects. Well, not since Bakuda went down. I never liked the idea myself. Too much effort."
Smirking, Cherie leaned down slightly to meet his gaze. "Oh? So the Undersiders never went out as a drunken group to get a little bit of a reminder? No little spiders crawling up your spine after a bank robbery? Maybe a puppy when facing down an Endbringer? Really, you picked a name like Regent? It doesn't have half the impact your old name did. That's always been your problem, Jean-Paul. You never want to remember and always try to leave everything behind."
Smirking, the younger Master turned around. "That has always been your problem, Cherie. You are so desperate to latch onto the strong or the important, that you overcommit and pay for it. I suck at emotions, but I feel the terror in your very bones. You're practically vibrating out of your skin. It's almost nostalgic."
Gaping at her brothers retreating back, Cherish narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, she knew exactly what sort of spectacle she was in the mood for.
Dragon took a moment to center herself. Colin's statement had caught her by surprise. However, thinking about her reaction, the surprise was more due to his understanding of the situation rather than the statement itself. Even at his best, her friend had issues understanding social norms. Right now, he was so far from his best he might as well be on the moon.
Still, he was not wrong. "Skitter was an interesting person to research. While I disapprove of your own actions, you did not operate in a vacuum. One or two incidents would be bad enough. When you take in the whole picture, it is hard not to be sympathetic." It might also involve a bit of projection, but she was not going to talk to Colin about that any time soon.
Snorting, Colin held his head in his hands. "I should have contacted you that night. You were always better with people, and I managed to screw over my whole life because of that incident. But here we are. Skitter is useful and I am a damaged brand. I guess that's just how life goes."
Sighing, Dragon wished once again for a real body. A hug would solve a lot of issues right about now. "You, Colin Wallis, are more than your brand, just as Skitter is more than her persona. Try to remember that, okay? Now, I have to go deal with coordinating our efforts against the Nine. I will have alarms primed in case something happens, but I set my real name as a security override. So call for me and I will come running."
Smiling slightly, the former Hero nodded, scruffy beard and all.
Looking down at the street, Jack Slash was treated to an interesting sight. A young brunette girl, barely a teenager with a face twisted in sheer terror, was running down the street full throttle. Behind her, a pack of skinheads were in pursuit. Their faces were covered in sweat and foam, their eyes glazed with desire.
As he knew from quite a bit of experience, fear was no substitute for cardio. The girl fell, and the pack of gang members were upon her. First her clothes were torn, then her skin. Then they were breaking limbs and pulling out knives. Blinking, the serial killer looked a bit closer. Yes, the skinheads were carving their victim up and eating them in the middle of the street.
Eh, not bad, but not great either. He would give the performance a six at best.
Narrowing her eyes, Bonesaw shared his apathy. "I mean, okay getting a group to coordinate like that isn't a bad job. But just carving up the victim and eating them as fast as possible? It's kind of boring, right Mr. Jack?" As always, his little poppet knew just how he thought. She really was a treasure at times.
Walking along the roof of the apartment building, they found their latest member staring at the group of would be cannibals with an intense focus. She really should know better. Clapping his hands, Jack appreciated the little jump his teammate made. She might be too skittish for their group, but the young Master was fun to tease every now and then. "So, Cherish, getting a feel for the local wildlife? It seems a little... basic I would say."
Forcing a smile that did not reach her eyes, the Canadian replied to his veiled threat with ease. Well, at least Heartbreaker taught his kids manners. "It's just the opening act, Jack. I want to get a feel for the local rhythm before doing anything too notable." Ah, she was acting like one of the big boys! How adorable!
Looking back at the pack of Mastered gang members finishing their meal, he noted that the victim was nothing but bones. Then, one of the thralls seemed to stagger as everyone else fixated upon them. The slaughter was even greater than before, with the now horrified victim fighting back with everything he had. Thus, the cycle continued like a pack of sharks fighting in their mothers womb, until one bloated, blood covered skin head was all that was left. Raising his fists in victory, the thug suddenly collapsed while hurling. A self inflicted knife to his eyes put the man down in minutes.
Okay, that earned Cherish at least a seven for the effort.
Dusting his hands, the leader of the Slaughterhouse Nine smirked. "Well that was a nice diversion, but we have to set the stage. We are going to start making sure that all the Candidates have their invitations. I am still debating Skitter and Crawler is moping that his preferences are unavailable. However, the Siberian is looking for a bit of tracking help. Apparently, her Candidate is a bit of a recluse. In addition, we still need to know who you want to pick. Have to make sure all the bells and whistles are ready to bring to the party."
Eyes widening, Cherish got to her feet. "You know sir, I had a couple of people in mind. But now? I know just who to recommend. Who better to add to the family, then another prodigal son?"
Another one of Heartbreaker's spawn?
How trite.
Ah well, it was better than nothing.
Feeling a slight, yet familiar flex of malace in his emotions, Alec paused on the way back to the apartment.
That was...very annoying.
Taking out his phone, Regent hit his speed dial. "Hey Lisa. Yeah, I just needed to get out and about for a minute. Yeah...we might have a problem."
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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 18
Warning, Foul language, Racist Language, and other rough and frowned upon depictions of characters and questionable actions.
...
Gripping the arms of his throne, Hookwolf's gritted teeth scraped against one another in frustration. "You want to run that shit by me again Stan? Because it sounds like you started hanging out with whatever fucking Merchants didn't get trashed by the psycho brigade." The pit fighter could feel the metal under his skin twitching to reflect his irritation. The twins must have noticed, if their grips on their weapons were any indication.
Stan, a mid-level lieutenant turned squad leader after Leviathan, swallowed. The Parahuman leader had worked with the guy for over a year, and knew he was not normally squeamish. But he was not stupid either, and bringing bad news to the boss often resulted in dead messengers. "Boss, I swear it on my life. Paul and his whole crew were blood, guts and bones on the street. It looks like they...well that they fucking ate each other after killing Janet from the relief center. Except Stevie. He stabbed himself in the eyes and bled out."
Taking a long breath to calm the fuck down, Brad reminded himself that Stan knew what he was fucking doing most of the time. So if he said they ate each other, then they probably did it. Still a massive pain in the ass though. "What did you do with the bodies? We don't leave our people out there like trash." Or like evidence of some sort of canibalistic cult. He needed more soldiers to deal with Purity's group, and that sort of rumor would scare people off.
Swallowing, the underling replied. "Well, I took some photos to show you what happened, but we didn't know if they were contaminated with any Tinker bullshit. So, we used molotov cocktails to burn the evidence, and got a fire hose to get rid of everything down the sewer." On one hand, Tinker bullshit was a legit concern with fucking Bonesaw out and about. On the other, he was the one who would have to explain what happened to their families. What a fucking mess.
Holding out his hand, Brad growled, "Show me." Taking out his phone, Stan unlocked it and brought up the folder. Looking down, he fought back a wince. Yeah, he would not have let the families see the bodies in this condition. Noting that Jessica had turned green after looking over his shoulder, he did not think the others would argue.
Tossing the phone back, Hookwolf sighed. "Fine, you did the right thing. Now go fucking spread the word. I want a head count, and to double the number of spotters. Either that brat popped a skin balloon and we didn't notice, or she's on the ground playing with people. Either way, we need to be protected and prepared. So let's find these assholes already." Nodding, Stan saluted before running off.
Watching the normie run off, Menja spoke up. "You know, it could have been someone besides Bonesaw. Maybe the Siberian or Crawler." Her sister nodded in support, as was their habit.
Standing up, the leader of Fenrir's Chosen began pacing the room. "Sure, it could have been Crawler, or the Siberian, or some stupid stunt that a new member did for shits and giggles. But try to tell a normal human to fight those assholes, and they will run. We don't have enough people to scare off anyone. But, no matter how scared they are, no guy is going to run from a little blonde in pigtails. That should at least get us enough warning to start something we can finish."
Any response the Valkyrie twins could have made was interupted by a barrage of shouting and gunfire. Releasing some of his metal, Hookwolf ran out the door, Fenja and Menja growing right behind him. What they saw on the outside made them ramp up their efforts.
A dozen of the compounds guards were on their backs, bleeding from numerous cuts. No one appeared dead, but they were not moving either. It probably had something to do with the dark skinned woman striding along while reading a book. Shards of glass surrounded her like armor, while crude collars of the stuff surrounded her victims necks. It sent a very clear message to the Parahuman leaders.
Shatterbird was here, and she wanted to talk.
Holding her spear close, Menja carefully continued to grow. Too much height and she might injure their people. Too little height, and the breaker effect would not be enough to save her. It was a balancing act that was familiar and welcome. She would need all her focus on putting down the rabid dog before them.
Closing her book, the psychotic dusty bitch started speaking. "You know, I do believe that this was a fairly well done defense. Certainly better than anything I've seen out of the PRT in a while. I should hold back more often. There is a certain artistry in precision versus wide spread terror. Something to consider for the future."
Forming his armor, Hookwolf growled, blood in his eyes. "You made a big fucking mistake coming here bitch. This is our territory, and psychotic cunts are not welcome!" With no further warning, the car sized mass of metal lunged forward. It was the Changer's favorite tactic and one that had served him well.
Smirking, Shatterbird put her book away. "How cute." With that, a snake of glittering glass shards rose from the ground, deflecting the charge. Faster than Menja could track, the construct changed into ropes that contained Hookwolf better than any batch of foam.
Holding up a hand, the glass controlling cape smiled at the struggling form of Hookwolf. "You have fire and passion, but need to work on your creativity. Changing into a wolf is a nice thematic choice, but imagine a giant serpent or an Elder God. Oh the horror you could unleash if you just stopped holding back! But in the meantime, I am here to talk. If you don't want to lose your toys, I suggest you rein in your temper." Suggestively, the glass collars around the fallen squad began to move towards their throats and eyes. Seeing that stopped Hookwolf in his tracks.
Nodding, Shatterbird dispersed her construct. "Very good. I am here to present you with some excellent news, Brad Meadows, also known as Hookwolf. You have been selected as my Candidate for the Slaughterhouse Nine. You are one of a very exclusive group my good man and honestly? I think you have a very good chance of coming in first, no matter what Bonesaw says about her Big Sister."
Glaring at the crazy bitch, Hookwolf spat on the ground. "You are fucking nuts if you think that I am going to join you psychotic ass mother fuckers. We see you again, then you are going to die right then. Now get out of here, sand nigger!"
Laughing softly, the dusky Parahuman rose into the air, glass forming their distinctive outfit. It was just in time to avoid a ribbon of distorted air. Before she could react, Stormtiger jumped behind his attack, rending the air with his strikes. Cricket was right behind him, releasing a blast of sound across the prone soldiers. Their glass collars shattered from the effect, falling as sparkling dust.
Idly dodging the follow-up strike, Shatterbird drifted away, waving as she went. Menja prepared to grow further and join in the offensive when Hookwolf bellowed. "Enough! Stormtiger, Cricket, Menja and Frenja, all of you assholes stand the fuck down!"
Turning to their leader, the blonde Valkyrie could almost picture Hookwolf chewing stones and spitting sand. "Cricket, check to make sure the bitch didn't leave any surprises. Fenja, get people over here to patch these guys up. Stormtiger, get on the horn. If those idiots at the Protectorate don't have a truce meeting set up, arrange our own. I want these Slaughterhouse freaks in the god damned ground!" Everyone nodded before dispersing to follow their orders.
Seeing the warrior before her filled with tension, Menja walked over. Hookwolf was not Kaiser, but he had his charms. "Sir, don't worry. We'll take these bastards down."
She was surprised to see the man scoff. "Nessa, just who do you think someone like Bonesaw would choose as a big sister in Brockton Bay?" Reviewing the female capes she knew of in town, one name came to mind, driving the color from her face.
Noticing her reaction Brad nodded. "I do not want to see what those freaks could do to Panacea. That bitch is enough trouble as she currently is keeping Glory Hole in one piece. If Bonesaw got her hands on the best healer in town, who knows what the fuck would happen."
Shuddering at the thought, the part time giantess began mentally digging for Othala's number. It was time to reunite their family to take out the trash.
Faultline stared into the glass before her. While she would love to drain its contents, that would be a waste of very good brandy. On the other hand, some numbness would be appreciated right about now. "Are you sure they got every exit Newter? What about that secondary one near Coil's first base?"
Sighing, the Case 53 shot his own drink without a care. It was mostly for dramatic effect since they both knew booze did nothing to his physiology. "Seriously Boss, I don't know how long they have been in the bay, but those jerks have been busy. Every tunnel out of town be it storm drain, sewer, or part of our rainy day escape route is plugged with either some sort of resin, or trapped with those damn skin bombs. How the fuck they managed that under the noses of the B.B.P.D. and PRT boggles the mind."
Closing her eyes, the Parahuman drank deep. This was a fucking disaster. "Okay, let's review. The Nine are in town and we are Parahumans. Ergo, we are targets and can't get away. So that means we have to fight. Maybe we can get lucky and claim one of their bounties. Maybe we can get away in the chaos. We have options, and that is the important thing."
Before Newter could reply, the door opened letting in Gregor and Shamrock. Nodding to his allies, the larger man smiled. "We have the new boy and Emily set up in the safe house. Hopefully, we can get him to calm down soon enough to be of some use. Whirlygig is downstairs in detox."
Narrowing her eyes, Faultline put down her cup with a deliberate clink. "I take it that you managed to properly review the contents of their case?" The discovery of the Merchant scouts had been fortuitous, but could also become a major problem. If they were right, people had died for the contents of Skidmark's little party favors.
Crossing her arms, Shamrock nodded. "I checked it over front to back. That was Cauldron paperwork alright. I don't know how the Hell the Merchants got their hands on it, but there are millions of dollars with of powers in there. No way the bastards won't come looking for it."
Leaning back, the leader nodded to her people. "We know from long experience that those monsters are paranoid as fuck. You keep that case on you at all times Shamrock. The middle of a Slaughterhouse Nine attack is not the time to set any sort of trap. Hopefully, your power can obscure any attempt to attack us for a retrieval."
Shamrock's response was cut off by a strange beat sounding on the dance floor. Since the Palanquin was supposed to be closed due to attacking crazy capes, that quickly caught everyone's attention. Affixing her helmet in place, Faultline rose. "It seems like there is a party crasher in the house. Take point Gregor, we have work to do."
Like a well trained machine, Faultlines Crew moved as one. Within minutes, they had the floor of the club covered. However, once the mercenary saw who was waiting for them, she had to suppress a curse. They were not ready for this shit.
Swaying to the odd beat, a barefoot girl was drifting from side to side. Spread around the floor were tiny flames, floating in the air and crackling forming the rhythm. Her pale skin was offset by a red dress and darker hair. But, most notably, her face was covered in lines of cigarette burns.
Burnscar was in their home and surrounded by flame. They were fucked.
Humming her favorite tune, Mimi enjoyed the feel of the music. She did not like dancing or people normally, but Elle was at a dance club, so she should be dancing, right? A bit of flame and she could cut loose just a bit. Just a bit more and she could really cut loose. Make the flame really soar...
No, no Jack said she had a job to do. So she would do her job. Then she could let the flame play and play and dance and maybe she could sing. Would Elle like it if she sang? She had never sung before, but that was the sort of thing you did when you saw friends right? Right.
Oh look, Elle's people were here.
She should say hello, right?
Waving her hand, Burnscar tried to smile. "Hello!" That was too hard. Too hard...maybe just a bit more flame. Just a bit more pretty flame...no she had to do her job.
The big guy in front had weird skin. Maybe he would like to meet Bonesaw? She could do all sorts of things. Nah, that was silly. Bonesaw was busy dealing with Murder Rat and the other one. It did not have a name yet, right? No, she wanted her Candidate to help make it better. Silly Bonesaw, playing with something like that and expecting the other girl to understand.
Parahumans did not understand each other unless you were really lucky.
Oh, the mask lady said something. Maybe a little less flame? "What did you say?" Was that friendly enough? Happy enough? No, she sounded weird. She only sounded happy when she let go. But she could not let go or Jack would get mad. That was never any fun.
"I said, why are you here Burnscar." Oh, right, she was becoming Burnscar because of all the fire. That was nice, Burnscar never cared about hurting people or causing problems. She just danced in the fire and laughed. That sounded like fun...
No, she had to stay focused. "I'm here because I want to see Elle. It's been to long and I miss my friend." There, now they could get Elle and they could talk and she could talk with her friend and not need the fire to feel...
They were being awfully loud. It was making her sad. Time for more fire!
"Mimi, what are you doing here?"
That voice...
Looking up, she saw the frowning face of her friend. It was just like old times!
Lowering her flames, Mimi smiled. It was easier now. "Elle, I found you! It's been too long!" She was there and Elle was there and friends could be happy when they were together, right? Right!
Sitting down on a railing, Elle did not smile. "Mimi, I thought you knew that I didn't want to see you again. Why did you try to find me?"
Yeah, Elle had said something like that, but it had been on a bad day. Bad days did not count and should be forgotten in the dark where they belonged. So it was actually a good thing she had found the girl! Logic that could not be beat!
Oh, she should respond. That made sense, right?
"Jack said that we were coming to Brockton Bay to talk with this... Taylor person? Then he asked if I wanted to see anyone while I was here, and I told him I wanted to see you! I missed you, Elle. The people I'm with are okay, but don't get me like you do." Wow, talking that much was hard.
Taking a deep breath, Elle closed her eyes. "Well, now you have seen me, Mimi. Why don't you go back to Jack for right now? We have to clean up the mess you made."
Mess, what mess? Oh, the flames kept getting bigger and scorched the ground. Oops.
Before Mimi could do anything else, the floor gave way to a slide. She found herself flying through the air, only to fall into a puddle. Looking up, she was five whole blocks away from Elle's place.
The girl had gotten stronger!
Now to go find Jack and Shatterbird for ideas on how to make even more pretty, pretty flame.
She could not wait to see Elle again!
Walking down the street, Sabah wished once again that she had never gained powers. Being a Cape seemed to include a destiny of sorrow and stress. Quite frankly, she just wanted to be left alone to design her fashion in peace. Unfortunately, the world did not want to accommodate her. Hence why she had to run an, ugh, patrol.
After Leviathan, her family and neighbors had managed to come together in relative comfort. Alexandria and Legend had stayed in town after the Memorial, and with the Endbringers death, many of the normal issues a surviving city would endure had been cut off at the knees. Kaiser was dead and Coil was taken down, his forces scattered to the winds. Honestly, with the defeat of Lung earlier in the year, she had never felt safer in Brockton Bay. Parian was even looking forward to being a part of the redevelopment of the Bay's economy.
Then the Slaughterhouse Nine had shown up.
The Protectorate and New Wave had pulled in their horns and the gangs were debating what to do. But that left her people without official protection, and the knowledge that a Cape resided amongst them. Everyone had pled for her help then and she could not find the will to refuse. So now she and her constructs had claimed a small slice of safety known as Doll Town. It was an experience she could have done without.
The young Parahuman was shaken out of her distraction by the sight of an odd package outside her territory. The purple wrapping reminded her of half cured leather, and it was moving a distressing amount. Mindful of the potential danger, she sent her cloth gorilla forward. Disassembling it with a thought, she reformed it into a dome over the thing before pulling out her cell phone. Undergraduate college courses had not prepared her for bioweapons from psychopaths damn it! Let the PRT get off their asses for once!
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