"We are not getting involved with that," Grue says as a gout of flame tears across the street.
"No shit," Regent says, staring impassively as Lung approaches the new cape. Rachel grunts in agreement.
"We don't need to," I say. "White hats will be here soon. Just give me a few minutes to watch?" I ask. Grue turns to look at me from the back of his mount. I meet his gaze and shrug. "More information about the newest cape in town." There's a sound of bone cracking, audible from across a street and up a roof, and I look back to the fight. New cape stabbed Lung a few times. I let my power loose.
Grew needles on a whim. Creates bone. Wants people out of the way.
A hero then?
Wants to be a hero.
Ah, don't we all?
New cape retreats into an alleyway and Lung follows. One bellow of pain later and they're both tumbling back into the street, tearing at each other and leaving parts of their Changer forms on the street.
Escalation unintentional. Wanted to run away earlier. Enjoys the fight.
Looks like we have some contradictory motivations. I'll have to bring that up. Carefully, though. She seems a bit unstable.
The two separate and Lung tosses out a wall of fire. New cape blocks it with a wall of bone, and when Lung charges through it he gets stabbed in the side. There's got to be something more though, because after giving new cape a backhand he collapses to the ground.
Expanded bone within Lung. Spun protrusions, wanted to cause internal injuries.
My jaw drops. That's...
New cape isn't fucking around.
Lung charges, covered in fire and bigger than I've ever seen him before, howling with fury.
Wants to kill new cape. Worried about dying. Change in priorities.
Oh shit.
"White hats are here," Grue says, shaking my shoulder and pointing over the rooftops. I follow his finger.
Miss Militia is setting up. More powerful gun than normal. Director has approved A-class measures. Full Protectorate engagement.
"Let's get out of here," I say quietly, looking to Rachel and nodding. She whistles twice and taps her heels to her dog. I grit my teeth and hang on tight as we accelerate, running away from the fight, even as I hear metal and gunfire in the background.
No bystanders or cameras. Protectorate not holding back. Want to convince Lung to retreat. New cape is secondary concern.
I shut off my power and focus on staying mounted.
"The new cape killed Lung," I say nonchalantly, sipping coffee. Brian stops shadow-boxing and turns to look at me, a skeptical look on his face.
"Really?" he asks. I nod.
"The Protectorate released a statement and everything. Also, the boss wants us to recruit her," I add sourly. I mean, it makes sense. She's a heavy hitter, and all that firepower would help fill in the gap on our lineup. On the other hand, having three killers on the team sounds like a pain and a half.
"Woot. More girls," Alec says from the couch, voice flat and dispassionate.
Doesn't care.
Thank you, power, for that invaluable piece of information.
"Don't like it," Rachel says, fiddling with one of her dogs. I resist the urge to sigh in exasperation.
"I don't like it either, but he wants us to make an honest attempt," I say, spreading my arms. "I've left a note on PHO, so we'll see how that goes." A ringing sound cuts through the room and a chill runs down my spine. Coil. "Give me a minute," I say, dragging out the phone and stepping into my room. Once the door is locked, I flip it open and answer the call.
"White Rose is at Longshire Park. Talk to her." The line goes dead.
Expects me to fail. Wants me to succeed. Confident that he won't take a loss.
Again, with the contradictions. More information, even if I don't know how to use it yet. I jot down a quick note in code, slap it onto my cork board, and start changing into something more comfortable. I take a look at the catsuit, then pass over it. Approaching someone who wants to be a hero as a villain isn't a bright idea. Now, a potential fan approaching a hero...
That's a different story.
Suspicious and slightly disoriented. Just acquired a lot of money. Thinks I'm hitting on her.
Wants to buy me food. Still not sure if this is a date.
Thinks she's convincing people not to look at her by glaring at them. Unconsciously rejoicing at the idea of being photographed.
Unaware of her effect on the restaurant host. Unaware in general.
Low opinion of public. Result of systematic social isolation.
Explicitly dislikes obvious attention. Implicitly overjoyed.
Still thinks I'm flirting with her.
Has thought about joining teams. Will not be anything other than her own boss. Unaware of the fact.
Hates people getting off scot-free, regardless of crime. Dislikes me for suggesting it. Still craves social interaction.
Brain is more vulnerable to Master effects when unaware. Depressed. Self-harm as coping mechanism. Breaks own bones. Has become desensitized to pain.
Undersells herself, but also unworried about other capes. False modesty. Unaware of it.
Will pursue friendship with New Wave. Lost interest in me.
"How'd it go?" Alec asks, eyes glued to the TV.
"She's a self-contradictory mess," I state. "She wants to be a hero without joining a team, but also wants social interaction. She also wants everyone to get what's coming to them, except for her, and she's a step below a cutter." I collapse on the couch next to him and hold my head in my hands, groaning. "She wants friends, but not ones that are prettier or more interesting than her, she wants reputation but hates the public, and she thinks she's weak-ish but also one hundred percent willing to fight anyone anywhere over anything. Also, apparently I can't read her perfectly."
"So..." Alec trails off. I send a single baleful look his way.
"It did not go well."
Showing off. Completely unworried.
Doesn't want to be anything other than the leader of the team. Made up her mind before she got here. Pitys us.
Doesn't care that she's burning bridges. Doesn't think that we could actually help. Doesn't think that we're bad people.
Believes in fair play. Thinks she can take a few of us down. Won't.
"You're going out to meet her again?" Brian asks, raising an eyebrow as he bats at a few eggs around a skillet. I groan and sigh, packing the dossiers into my backpack.
"She doesn't hate me. Not yet. She just thinks that I'm an Empire apologist." Brian doesn't respond. Damn it. "I'm not," I clarify, shaking my head. "I explained the three strikes rule and a few parts of the cape scene to her, she took it the wrong way, and New Wave showed up afterwards so I couldn't clarify who I was talking about."
"Be careful," he says and I heave an internal sigh of relief. One potential fire put out. Now to attend to the other one.
Checking me over habitually. Doesn't consider me a threat.
Happy. Recently left a terrible situation. Related to her civilian life.
Skeptical of offer. More okay with joining a non-villain group. Thinks in terms of absolute morality.
Impressed by powers and control. Wants their control.
Genuinely curious. Not interested in joining, but will use them to improve self.
"Oh shit," I whisper, leaning back from my computer re-reading the email.
Medhall-Empire connection was made using the information I found. Coil wants to destroy them in stages. End goal is control of Brockton Bay.
The cat is out of the bag and I didn't even know it. I can't stop this.
Release of both at same time would lead to chaos. Doesn't want chaos. Wants me to live. Fairly confident in my survival. Plan does not need me to live.
Thank you, power. More nightmare fuel.
Plan wants me to join Wards with Brian. Control criminals through Coil, government through PRT and Protectorate.
He's aiming to become the baron of Brockton Bay.
Control Protectorate through PRT, as Director of PRT. Not currently Director.
I smile.
A place to start.
Doesn't like being here. Looking forward to the fight.
Not happy about being approached by Nazis. Enjoys talking to people who are Nazis. Not a Nazi.
Bored. Using power to fight boredom.
Thought about murdering everyone here. Decided not to.
Surprised that many people dislike me. Associates me with another person. Negative association.
Sees Coil as a coward. Conflict-oriented mindset.
Surprised at cooperation between villains.
Doesn't want to be known as a killer. Doesn't think she wants to use lethal force. Doesn't trust herself to.
Doesn't buy Kaiser's speech. Still impressed.
Scared of Purity. Doesn't think she could kill her.
Flushed from combat. Harming self to maintain control.
Disappointed by lack of resistance. Expected a more face-to-face fight.
Not interested romantically in Hookwolf. Interested in upcoming fight.
Murderous impulses high. Harming self to maintain control.
Wants Bakuda dead. Will not accept less. Guilt over feeling responsible for the crisis.
Appreciates defusing the bomb. No longer dislikes me.
Satisfied. Disgusted with self. Elated. Ashamed.
"Tats, what the fuck!?" Grue shouts over the destruction of yet another building.
"It wasn't me!" I shout, knuckles white as I hang onto the bone spike in front of me. "I am not that stupid!"
"Well, Purity thinks you are!" Regent shouts, waving his arm. A car crumples as kinetic light blasts through it. "Any bright ideas?"
"Fuck you!" I shout back, mind whirling and power firing.
Too violent for just loss of identity. Loss of loved one. Of child.
No no no power, I need the tools to get the fuck out of the situation, not escalate it.
Child is gone, seized by the PRT. Done before the news was leaked. Coil's work.
Interesting tidbit but still not useful. Come on, give me something I can use.
Children are potential second-gen triggers. Taken into PRT custody. Moving out of town.
There we go.
"I didn't do it!" I shout at the top of my lungs. "Every second you waste trying to kill the person Kaiser pointed you at for no reason is another second your kids are getting farther away!"
"Liar!" Purity shouts. Regent curses and another beam of light flies over our heads. I hear screams.
"Did you really think you could talk her down?" Grue asks before blanketing the intersection ahead of us in smoke. He's been more careful about doing that after the first time when Purity just started shooting indiscriminately, but it still buys us an extra second.
Two more blasts lance through the darkness, we hang a right, and once more we're being chased.
"It felt like a good idea!" I shout back, thinking. New Wave is across town, and they might not even try to help. The PRT hotline is still busy-
High activity due to sheer number of events. Empire capes unleashing at workplace. Whole Protectorate engaged.
Shit. What about getting help from Coil?
Calculated this. Wants me on the run. Wants the result of this.
That's not good. Faultline's Crew?
Want to preserve neutrality. Would not oppose Purity.
Worth a shot. Merchants?
Want to preserve neutrality. Would flee at first sign of danger.
White Rose?
Wants to preserve neutrality. Would fight to do so.
Good enough.
Angry. Disdainful of perceived cowardice.
Fear of Purity. Shock at audacity. Anger at me, at situation. Murderous rage.
Desperation play. Trying for time.
Paranoid. Angry. Afraid of mind control. Conflicted between public and personal opinions.
Hate.
Pursuing us, trying to herd us into a corner. Blast coming left, forward, left, behind, direct, right, left, behind, direct, right, right, forward, forward, left, direct, right, behind...
Gunshots. Miss Militia. Hard counter to Purity. Purity is leaving, Miss Militia not alone.
Euphoria. Hate. Likes fighting. Not with Wards because of social isolation. Social isolation ignored by authority. Hate of authority connected to self-image, hate of authority connected to parent-
"Hello Lisa Wilborne," the PRT agent says, sitting across the table says, shuffling some paperwork.
"'Bout time," I say, smiling with more energy than I actually have and clasping my hands together. Not much more I can do with them anyway, what with the handcuffs through the loop on the table. Still, never let them see you sweat. If it's not a rule, it really should be. "First thing you should know is that it wasn't me."
Too excited for actual paper work. Is planning to torture me.
Oh shit.
He looks me dead in the eye. I look up at the camera, evading his gaze. They can't let this actually happen, right?
Not recording. Mole in the PRT stopping it from doing so. Coil's mole.
Fuck.
"What do you want to know?" I ask quietly, turning back to the agent. Maybe I can feed him some good lies. He twists his head from side to side, and I can hear the vertebrae popping.
Enjoys this.
"Dead drops. Delayed emails. Anything and everything you've set up in an attempt to go after Coil," he says, pushing away from the desk. He takes his time walking around it, never breaking eye contact. It's an intimidation tactic, the good kind, where it doesn't matter if you know it's happening because it's still fucking scary. "We know about these data caches." He drops a sheet of paper in front of me. My plans, arranged by date. "We know about these post-mortems." Another sheet. Post offices and safety deposit box numbers. "Now then," he says, too casual for anything other than murder to be on his mind. "Tell me what we don't know."
I look up at him. Coil wants to defuse me. To neuter me.
Joining the Wards is the goal. Believes he can exert more control if I'm in the system. Nearing his end game.
I smile.
"Your best friend is fucking your brother," I answer. "Kinky shit too, with-"
The agent punches me in the face. It's too fast for me to really react and I tumble out of my seat. Silver lining: the handcuffs keep me from falling to the floor completely. Hurts like an absolute bitch, though.
Fuck fuck fuck why does this happen to me?
"Okay, I'll tell you for real," I start. "There's an envelope in the storm drain on the corners Jay and Holiday that a druggie visits every week-" The agent cocks back a fist and I stop talking.
"Not how this works," he says. Another blow and this time I see stars. God, it hurts. Why do just two punches to the face hurt so much?
Has no limits. Will kill me.
Then the intercom goes off.
"S-Class threat, all hands on deck."
The agent looks at the camera, then at me, then at the camera again. He shrugs, rights my chair, and unlocks the loop around my cuffs.
"Today's your lucky day," he mutters. "We'll talk more later."
Back in my cell, I push through the rapidly-growing bruises and do some Thinking.
Interrogation ultimately failed. Doesn't fit with Coil's usual schemes. Tried it because he didn't think there would be a problem. Didn't there would be a problem because he'd done it before.
He can't have actually pumped me for information like this before. I'd like to think I'd remember a beating like that.
Didn't interrogate me. Interrogated a simulation of me. His power.
Holy fuck.
Power is simulations. Models the future based on a single divergence point, then goes through a phantom experience where he moves along the given plan. Information transfers across consciousness.
No wonder everything comes up roses for him. He knows ahead of time if things will fail. In that case why interrogate me in the flesh?
Interrogation was supposed to be a simulation. Outside events forced him to commit to a different path. Outside event was the S-class threat.
I guess the other path led to death?
S-Class threat was in his base. Stimulus agitated it into action.
Coil, you deserve anything and everything that happens to you. Why would you poke whatever it was that apparently exists on the same scale as Preacher?
Time of disturbance correlates with dead-man info bomb set up four days ago. Info bomb contained all known information on Coil's hench people and operations, delivered to all senior members of the PRT. Stimulus related to the Travelers.
What? How does showing the connection between a Bond villain and his stooges do this?
Connection to Coil revealed to PRT. Reveal destroyed initial plan for the Traveler's rebranding. Reveal set off the S-Class threat.
I fall onto the bed and press on through the migraine. No. That's not enough. What's going on?
S-Class threat is a member of the Travelers. Travelers went to Coil for help. Coil offered it. Believes that the reveal will cripple Coil, prevent him from solving their problem. Panicked. Attempted to escape. Killed Coil in that simulation. Will try to-
I cut off the my power and stare at a wall. The sharpness behind my eyes is nearly blinding, my temples have screws attached to them, but I have my fucking answers now.
Coil can make simulations and take the information from them freely. He used that to stay up-to-date on how I tried to undermine him. Because I'm paranoid and never stopped making them, I had a window where each one would work. I got captured in that window, it went off, the PRT learned that they're more full of holes than a dam made by the Swiss out of cheese, and that made the parahuman WMD he was sitting on go cuckoo for coco puffs.
I may have accidentally nuked a city.
I stand up and grimace as the sudden motion briefly intensifies the headache. Okay, no power unless I want to give myself an aneurysm. I walk (slowly) to the door and knock on the glass three times.
"You know that S-Class threat you guys are dealing with? I've got some information on it. Mind if I help?"