This evening was starting Awesome.

My beautiful side-bitch was purring just fucking fine, those gorgeous curves were calling to me, and when I straddled her, the eager warmth was telling me she was ready for a ride.

Gods, this night was going to be Awesome. Pure fucking Awesome.

I had kept a stoic look on my face from the moment I got into her vicinity. I have a reputation for pure unadulterated badass levels of unattainable Awesome, and I wasn't going to let yet another Awesome ride detract from that image.

I moved my hands up her form, taking her roughly in both hands, before reaching down and twisting. She came to life instant and I thrust.

Awesome.

With one stern look to the side, I started fucking going for it.

I was riding my gorgeous chrome baby through the very heart of Empire territory. Tonight I was just looking for an excuse for a fight. Hell, that's what I do most nights, only one bastard in this town come close to being a threat, and that was only because I keep being ordered to disengage. Who the fuck would challenge me? I'm pure fucking Awesome.

Certainly no-one in this area poses a fucking threat, and the bitches know it too. The heads up display unit I designed in my helmet was giving me several blocks worth of notice of potential throw-downs, and every single perp with an E88 tatt was slinking into the alleys and high tailing it like the cowardly little bitches they are the moment the sound of my Silver and Blue Chrome Hogs' roar told them where I was.

No empire capes seemed ready to take up my challenge.

A pity.

At least the law abiding citizens that made up my fanbase, the People of America, in this part of town would be reassured of my presence, hearing the signature roar of my beast as they try to sleep. Gods damn I'm Awesome. If I'm to maximise the safety and reassurance I bring to Brockton Bay, I'd be best served by installing the sonic amplifier and extending the range of the synthesised exhaust out to ten blocks, and another fifty decibels. Awesome.

ping

A notification.

Ah. Duty calls.

"Console to Armsmaster."

My biggest fans, the Protectorate Response Teams' Threat Analysis and Communications Team. TACT. Always weary and wary when they talk to me.

Understandable, my guns were massive, my abs a titanium masterpiece of pure muscle, my glutes were so strong that even Assault has, in his unique sense of humour, complimented. How could they not tire out just being in my presence.

Their wariness similarly does them credit. I have consistently remarked upon how they would be able be more efficient, listing numerous occasions for nearly every PRT agent I have had my attention brought to. Such detailed reporting on my part takes time away from my Tinkering. Clearly they can only appreciate such personal attention as I have spared them, the listed failures and personalised solutions can only serve to make them as Awesome as I am, as examplified by how they maintain their wary vigilance.

As my nieces bedtime stories say, 'constant vigilance'. It's really the only way.

"Armsmaster to Console. Go Ahead Console."

"Sir, there have just been numerous reports of Lungs activity near the Docks. 127th and Fishmongers. Dragon Form Level 4, and reported gunshots."

"Armsmaster to Console.I had already recieved that report a full three secconds before your call. A report will be delivered to your supervisor. Acknowledge. Roger."

"Console to Armsmaster. Acknowledged. Over and Out."

Excellent. Their reporting system is getting better, but still lags behind my own program. Their Supervisor shall recieve my commendations and the four ways that operator could have been more efficient. Gods damn yeah, I'm a fucking leader. Awesome.

My bike was only doing 120 miles per hour through the residential areas that made up the shortcut between Downtown and the Docks as I made my way to Lung to put him down hard. Best practices being what they were, I slowed down to 20mph as I got within four blocks of Lungs reputed location. Making an entrance is easy. Making a glorious entrance takes effort.

My HUD informed me that several unknown parahuman signatures had escaped. A pity, but I'm only here for one.

And he's lying on the ground.

Fuck yes.

Easy victory on my part.

Awesome.

AN: I am the original author, having posted it on SB under my NP account, and on SV under my RW account.