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macdjord
macdjord
Subscriber
He/Him/His
Feb 20, 2018
#1,776
ToNotBe said:
I'm not sure what you're trying to say, because you've disagreed with me but then the rest of your post sounds like what I'm trying to say, just explained differently.
Actually, yeah, on rereading your post, it looks like I misunderstood you and was arguing against a point you didn't make. Sorry.
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PantherHardraad
PantherHardraad
Dapper Cat
Feb 20, 2018
#1,777
Godogma said:
I second inverted_helix's point; some people play cops and robbers when people are dying... Jaya doesn't; people don't get arrested and sent through the revolving door, they die and stay dead. That's an immense deterrent right there. When a villain looks at the situation and sees "Yeah, she'll fucking kill me if I do something stupid" they're not exactly going to be in a hurry to play with her instead of going to bother the Triumvirate.
Spoiler: Redundancy is Redundant
The link in the spoiler is my contribution
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Threadmarks Chapter 39
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McSwazey
McSwazey
Feb 21, 2018
#1,778
Alec found himself walking into a dingy bar one cloudy evening. Normally he wouldn't leave his comfortable little home unless he needed groceries, and even then it was only to pay the guy who delivered his groceries, but today promised to be even more fun than lounging in front of his television.
Somer's Rock was the name of the bar; a dingy, moldy, ugly thing with bad lighting and worse service. Much like Brockton Bay, now that Alec thought about it. Maybe that was intentional? Maybe the half-cleaned grime on the walls actually represented the criminal element of the city and their constant fight against the Protectorate's metaphorical sponge. Oh, and the lights! The lights, ancient and worn, represented the fading hope of a city plagued by humanities inner darkness. Perhaps the terrible beer was some kind of analog to the dying economy-
No. No, that's stupid. That whole scenario was stupid. The bar is just a dump.
Alec took a seat at a far table, throwing his feet up across the booth and leaning against the wall. The building was filled with people in outrageous costumes, most of whom he didn't know. That was fine. He'd just have to guess their names.
Sitting front and center at the bar were recognizable faces: Faultline stood out prominently, dressed in her styleless riot gear, with The Snailman at her side. The rest of her posse were gathered in a corner, Orange Guy, Crazy Girl, Clover Lass, and Spitfire all sharing a round booth. Mush was there at the front too, armored in old newspapers and dirt; he was probably representing what was left of the Merchants, and somehow had the girl from The Ring sat next to him. Alec remembered Circus as well, lounging across the room dressed in red and gold and covered in bells. Uber and Leet were in another corner, whispering to each other and being their usual useless selves.
The door creaked open, and Purity floated in. She gave off more light than the building did, even after she dialed down her glow and glided to a seat at the bar. Othala followed in immediately behind her, head down and meek.
Alec pulled at a loose thread of his shirt, killing time until it was his turn to make an entrance. It was getting close to time, and most of the major players had arrived.
The door opened again, and a familiar face walked in. Rachel glared around the room, mean-mugging the villains before spotting Alec and scowling extra hard. She walked towards him anyway, her little one-eyed dog padding along at her heels.
"Hiya Rach'!" Alec called, waving his arm back and forth frantically. The girl's scowl deepened, but she sat at his table regardless, sliding into the booth at an angle that put her as far from him as possible. Toto the Wonderdog laid down at her feet.
Alec grinned, turning away from her to make eye contact with Steampunk Iron Man in the booth beside him. "We're best friends, me and her."
Iron Man shifted uncomfortably at his sudden words, so he counted that conversation as a success.
The door crashed open, and three newcomers swaggered in. Their costumes were awfully pointy, with pointy teeth and pointy bones and pointy mummy bits sown all throughout their clothing like a fetishistic fashion statement. They moved towards the bar, but not before each member gave the room a disdainful sneer. Faultline stiffened minutely at their approach, and Alec noticed Purity's muscles tensing. A few other nonentities took in the strangers and shifted nervously. Big game then?
A waiter swept past while Faultline engaged in a staring contest with the new arrivals, and Alec took a moment to order a drink. He wanted something to sip at while watching the drama.
"Animos. I didn't realize The Teeth were in town." Faultline addressed the man closest to her with more civility than Alec had expected, given the pronounced scowl Snailman was wearing behind her.
The man shook his head, bits of bone and teeth rattling in his hair at the movement. His mask was carved from an animal's skull, and left his mouth open. He smiled at her, teeth and lips stained with crude black warpaint. "It's just us I'm afraid, Faulty. Spree, Vex and I wanted to take a little road trip: Check on how the Bay is doing, take in the sights, meet the locals, you know, touristy things. Then we ran into this delightful minion who said that there was a party going on here, and, well, we just had to crash it."
Faultline's fist clenched, but only for a moment. The bar was quiet, and all eyes were on her, waiting for a response. She slipped off her bar stool, turning her back to the pointy people, and faced the gathered capes.
"You all know why we're here. The ABB and the Empire have both fallen, and more than half of the more morally flexible capes in the city are either dead or imprisoned." Faultline began, and Alec felt a phantom tapping on his shoulder. He smiled, flexed his power, and-
opened his eyes. Catalyst stood beside him, facing the shabby exterior of Somer's Rock. She grinned at him and nodded, and he walked towards the door.
Inside, Faultline was still talking. "-are now outgunned by the heroes. If we draw too much attention, if someone starts a war over snatching up territory, the hammer will fall on all of us. We need to talk about distributing territory in a way that doesn't involve-"
"Territory goes to the strongest." Animos interrupted, leering at Faultline. "That's how it goes where I come from, at least. Has Brockton Bay become so weak that you have to hand it out like Halloween candy? And why do you care? You don't even hold territory."
Faultline considered him for a moment, apparently deciding his question was reasonable. "The situation is volatile. There are no major gangs left; no group for heroes to blame when things go bad. We'll all be cast in the same light. I refuse to be labeled as a problem to be solved by the heroes, just because someone was too lazy to think about the consequences of their-"
Alec shoved against the door, cracking the wood and blowing it open. He strolled in, hands at his side, torso bare, back straight. He moved straight towards the bar, towards the seats of power, and lowered himself onto a reinforced stool at the center, next to a rapidly brightening Purity. The bar was silent, and even the Pointy Crew were frozen in their seats.
"Lung." Faultline said breathlessly, something between confusion and disbelief lingering in her tone. "You're alive?"
"I am, obviously." Alec replied, twisting Lung's vocal cords to produce a deeper rumble than usual. "I've been a captive ever since my territory was destroyed."
"A captive." Faultline repeated, glancing towards her crew in the corner booth. They made to stand, shuffling quietly but quickly. "Of whom, might I ask?" She was backing away, now. Her voice and posture screamed of someone who was connecting dots and desperately hoping she was wrong. The rest of the capes in the bar were shifting nervously, confused but wary.
"Of her." Alec pointed Lung's arm towards the entrance, towards Catalyst standing in the doorway. She was wearing a zip-up hoodie over a flowing dress and tights, with clunky combat boots on her feet. It was the look of someone who knew with certainty that they didn't have any fashion sense yet wouldn't be criticized anyway. Really, the only clues to her identity were the mask, with fine blue lines swirling along the border, and her hair, streaked with a matching blue and pulled into a long ponytail.
It took the bar approximately five seconds to process these details, after which even the sound of breathing stopped. Even Purity's glow had all but vanished. If Lung's appearance brought quiet, Catalyst's brought silence.
She moved into the bar, less walking than swaggering forward, as if taunting everyone present to act. It was the grin on her face, really, that was most unnerving. It was wide, almost too wide to be considered natural, and filled with teeth. Something between a smile and a snarl, and meant to convey both. She approached Faultline, the older cape's body language shifting between half a dozen variations of fight and flight, before settling into a controlled stance as Catalyst came to a stop a mere foot away.
"Hi." Catalyst chirped. Her voice reminded Alec of the first time they met, her gleeful bragging over Lung's mutilated corpse. Snailman went about four shades paler, but stepped behind his boss in an almost suicidal form of support.
"Catalyst," Faultline said, her voice admirably even, "this is neutral ground. You'll find no laws broken here."
"So you're the new hot shit in town?" Animos hopped off his stool, a hungry look on his face. "I saw Leviathan's corpse after you killed him. Brutal, I loved it. You'd fit in great with The Teeth, gir-"
Catalyst's eyes flicked towards him and his voice fell silent, even as his mouth continued to move. He stopped after a moment, eyes widening in surprise, and Catalyst's eyes slid back to Faultline.
"I'll be out of your hair in a minute. I just need a moment to speak." Catalyst said, the smile never falling from her face.
Faultline seemed to steel herself, then took a long step back. "Of course. The floor is yours." she said, giving Catalyst a respectful bow.
"Oh, I like you." Catalyst purred, and Faultline visibly fought back a shudder. The girl who killed Leviathan took a moment to scan the room. Her eyes swept over most of the capes, lingering here and there for brief moments, until they fell on Rachel. The pair stared at each other for a moment, before Rachel sucked in a sharp breath, and lowered her eyes submissively. Catalyst seemed to approve of that, humming happily to herself while finishing her survey.
"I had a talk with my team earlier this week, and we came to a few conclusions." Catalyst began suddenly, causing several capes to jump in their seats. "Tomorrow Vanguard is holding a press conference. The topic will be something that affects you all, so I thought it only fair you hear it from me first."
She glanced around expectantly, somehow assuming her statement required a response. Alec helped her out.
"Hear what?" he asked, loud enough to be heard clearly. Rachel stared at him like he was insane.
"Glad you asked!" Catalyst snapped her fingers and pointed to Alec. He winked back at her, and the rest of the bar joined Rachel in staring. "As of tomorrow evening, Villains are banned from Brockton Bay. That means if you've got superpowers, and use those powers to commit a crime, you are not welcome here. You wanna live in my city? You're a rogue, a hero, or nothing. You want to stay a villain? You leave."
"Yeah, well what if we don't?" Alec called out with his whiniest pitch. Steampunk Iron Man shifted uncomfortably, like he'd rather be sitting anywhere else.
"Excellent question!" Catalyst nodded in approval. She turned away from him, motioning towards Lung with her finger. Alec moved to her side and sank to his knees, Lung's size putting him just below eye level even while kneeling. Catalyst gave Lung's face a few hard pats, making smacking noises against his skin.
"This is Lung, as you all know." she announced to the room. "A while ago, he made a lot of noise and woke me from a nap. He did a few other things too. I'm sure you all watch the news, but it's the former that's important here." She looked down at Lung and ruffled his hair. "Tell them what I did to you Kenta."
"You knocked me from the sky." Alec answered with Lung's mouth, "You dragged me underground and broke my body. Then you strapped me to a table and ripped the flesh from my bones. You did this four hundred thirty six times, until I stopped struggling." Lung's voice finished reverberating through the room, and you could hear a pin drop in the silence.
Othala vomited over the bar counter, breaking into a frightened sob at the disruption and scrambling frantically away. Purity steadied the younger girl in her arms, glancing shakily towards Catalyst. Faultline was tense as a coiled spring, with one hand covering Snailman's on her shoulder. Uber and Leet held a brief, hushed conversation, before settling uneasily back into their seats. The Pointy Crew were making an effort to match Catalyst smile for creepy smile, and a woman stepped forward from the group. She was dressed similar to Animos, with skulls and bits of mummified person decorating her raggedy hair. Her warpaint was dark red, the color of blood, and splattered across her mouth and neck.
"It's a challenge! Fantastic!" she crowed, clapping her hands together with glee. "You actually think that you can take on all comers, huh? I'll say it now, The Teeth don't back down. I really hope you aren't just hot air, because it won't just be us. The Fallen'll come for your head for sure. You killed their god, after all. And The Elite? The biggest villain group in the country? You think they'll let a challenge like that stand? Fuck, maybe even the Yangban! They tried to snatch Butcher a year or so back but we sent them packing. I bet they'll be coming for you too."
Catalyst waited for her to finish speaking, then turned to Faultline. "What is this and why is it speaking at me?" she asked, jerking a thumb towards Skull Girl.
"I'm Hemorrhagia," Skull Girl answered in Faultline's place, "and I'm giving you a warning out of respect for your power. If you think you can take on The Teeth, you're in for a surprise. Butcher doesn't lose."
"Why would anyone bother talking to these idiots?" Catalyst muttered. She turned away from Hemorrhagia, completely ignoring the woman's affronted look, and moved towards the exit. "That's all folks. Talk amongst yourselves and decide what you want to do, but be quick about it. Come tomorrow, it'll be a whole new world."
"Oh, one last thing." Catalyst stopped at the door, and glanced over her shoulder. "I can't speak for the PRT, but I don't give a shit about what you do elsewhere. If you aren't making trouble in my city, you won't get a visit from me." Her eyes fell on Rachel, then Faultline. "So long as you don't do anything too fucked up, I suppose."
"And who decides that? You?" Faultline asked, her voice cold and controlled.
Catalyst shrugged, but her lopsided smirk was answer enough.
Faultline shook her head. "No, we'll be leaving. I won't be a prisoner in my own home, waiting for the Sword of Damocles to fall at your whim. Nor will I live in a city that will become a war-zone when you meet a cape you can't deal with. Nobody is infallible."
"Suit yourself." Catalyst replied, giving her a single lazy wave. She turned away from the gathered capes, and walked out the door. Alec waited a moment, before sending Lung to trail behind her.
The silence in the bar lingered for a few moments longer, then broke into pandemonium. Voices were raised, arguments were made, alliances were struck and immediately betrayed.
A waitress dropped off Alec's drink, and he took a sip while watching the show. Life was good