Pick Your Poison
Catalyst 1.9
[Wednesday, October 20, 2010]
With Skidmark, Mush, and Squealer all no longer addicted to their various vices thanks to my Addictol, the Merchants suddenly seem to start getting more organized. I had to visit Mush several times to make more Addictol for it to be distributed to the lieutenants and other already capable members first before it would trickle down. Thankfully that meant both Rahj and Howard, who have been assigned as my personal minions now, immediately got cured of their cocaine and opium addictions respectfully.
Also, apparently due to overwhelming success, everyone who got a dose were beyond happy to no longer feel the need, the all-consuming ache of addiction. It took some effort Tuesday to keep the gang from outright vindictively burning all the drugs immediately, having to be reminded until I got more situated and could make fire-resistant Balcoat that we shouldn't lose our only income, as much as it disgusted the newly sober members.
Squealer, who had blabbed about my Addictol when Skidmark beat her for not outright telling him about what I was doing, was ashamed for betraying my unspoken trust that she would be able to keep Skidmark in the dark for a bit at least. I of course thought nothing of it, the pig had beat her for not 'Squealing' and that was enough for me to understand that she was truly a victim in a toxic relationship. At least before he dosed with Addictol and seemed to collect himself.
Skidmark was like a different person now, it was disturbingly uncanny how different this sober Skidmark was compared to the constantly high or in-withdrawal version everyone knew. He still cursed like a sailor and was vicious as always, but his temper was practically nonexistent compared to before. Someone could call him a moron to his face, and he would calmly ask why they thought that, get the answers, and Then he would break a finger or something minor.
In fact, he was even treating Squealer better, like he actually cared beyond sex. If he kept this up, I might even respect him, since he no longer seemed to fit the buttmonkey role anymore.
Mush was...not much different to be honest. He wasn't getting high every chance he could now, but he still languished in his piles of trash, which he had started to gather up from the fishery into a single place. Something about helping clean the place up ironically, while stockpiling garbage in his room.
All them aside, Trainwreck was oddly...subdued. He did what was asked, relayed orders, but he seemed off compared to his usual self I'd managed to get to know somewhat during the weekend. I tried to ask if anything was wrong, but he deflected, so I figured it was best left for whenever he was ready, I had other things I needed to focus on regardless.
"Typical." I commented at the written message I just got from a ganger. It said that Sophia Hess was not really being punished. Sure, she was attending detention, but she still hung out with her friends during it and only had to suffer a mere ten or so minutes of hearing Mr. Quinlan drone on about geometry before being allowed to outright socialize the remaining fifty minutes.
Past that she and her other entitled friends had also kicked up their torment of Taylor even more, and the staff is doing absolutely nothing. A few other parts of the message in varied handwritings all requested if they could sneak drugs into Hess's locker and arrange for the staff to find them in her 'possession' and other such nasty little tricks. Clearly now that I'd brought it to their attention, the other Rats in the school did not like what was going on any more than I did. "Hm...well, it isn't like Winslow is even capable of doing their jobs."
"Hey~ there~..." Purred a young woman's voice, and I didn't react as I felt said person wrap her arms around me and press her chest into my neck. "What ya doin'?" Kathleen crooned as she rubbed her hands up my arms and over my shoulders.
"Just seeing to a delicate issue. How's the increased libido going? Has it reduced at all?" I asked casually, ready to write any notes on developments from Kathleen's continuing Surge regimen.
"Oh~ hell no~. I am burning in my core, I just wanna fuck someone!" Kat panted, squeezing me as I noted down that it was getting worse. "God damn Dealer. I don't regret agreeing to this, but I don't exactly trust anyone here but you to get that intimate."
"I am sorry. I knew that it would trigger your pituitary gland, but I had no idea it would be this severe in daily doses. Perhaps, just a weekly dose?" I considered, turning to look at the rapidly improving young woman. Kat's eyes seemed to have healed some, their hazel surface healthy rather than glassy. Her dark skin was regaining hue, the sickly powdery pale practically gone with just two days of rest and fulfilling meals. Even her hair was growing fast, the dark short hair sprouting from her formerly bald scalp quickly.
But most notably, was her rapidly increasing muscle definition which by now made the formerly emaciated young woman look like a fit one. She'd also grown over an inch in just two days. But, unfortunately it seemed to have a drawback. I looked down at her chest, seeing the B-cups that she'd already grown back from her new 'see food' diet and the Surge spiking the growth as well. "Yeah, they're even bigger. Not complaining, but the milk is new." Kat pointed out as she pointed to her nipples and the wet splotches on her shirt.
"Again, sorry. The Pituitary Gland is perhaps the most important part of the human body in physical and sexual development, I couldn't bypass it without possibly endangering you even more." Which was true, my power told me that to try and work against the body's own potential and capabilities was anathema if I wanted to heal or help. If I tried to bypass the gland, she could have had all sorts of complications. A few unbecoming effects were worth avoiding mutations and cancer if the damaged biology and human anatomy textbooks I'd been binge reading while I made more Addictol had anything to say.
"And again, not complaining. I'm still smaller than I used to be before I became a damn ghoul, but I'm glad to finally feel more like a woman again. Even if it means feeling so damn horny." Kat informed me, sighing as she pulled the neck of her shirt out, waving a hand at her chest. "No matter how cold it is I feel hot."
"How are the growing pains?" I asked, noting the hot-flashes and continued boost to her libido down to my notepad, and she shrugged.
"Can barely notice them over my burning gut and my hunger." Kat replied. "Also, I don't notice soreness as much now."
"That's the gland's natural ability to aid in pain resistance. You could stop if you want Kat, I have enough data to work off of at the moment to try and move onto more paced testing." I looked over at the large tray of sealed glasses holding Addictol as I also began to write out a note back to the ringleader of Winslow's Merchants, who had dubbed themselves the Rats in the note.
"Fuck no! I wanna see how tall this stuff can get me, or how buff, and how big." Kat slurred, clutching her chest with a shiver. "It's like an addiction, but better, because it's all benefits."
"Careful Kat, I might just give you another dose of Addictol to make sure that isn't really just addiction speaking for you." I warned, since addiction comes in many forms.
"Yeah, yeah, habit-forming and whatnot. But this stuff has to have an upper limit, it can't seriously make me grow forever, that's impossible." Kat reasoned, and I had to agree. Eventually the Surge would stop being an outright benefit and just kick the libido in gear once she got as big as her body said was her full potential.
"You've got me there, just don't let your libido speak for you." I reminded my assistant-slash-test subject, who sighed.
"You know, you could just say 'don't think with my groin'." Kat rolled her eyes. "The gentleman gig doesn't keep it's charm when the lady's already trying to get in your pants."
"And I keep having to remind you I'm 14 until November and can't even give consent then either, I'm also emotionally dead inside." I don't understand why she's at all interested. I mean, I'm fat, she doesn't even know what I look like behind my costume, and my jokes are terrible. If I wasn't an empty shell of a person, I would've jumped on the offer like the horny teenager I'm supposed to be, but I'd rather avoid complications fraternizing with Kat would cause.
"I'm only 19, I can still look at teenagers. Also, you're a Villain, that's such a weak excuse." Kat reasoned with a pout, and I shrugged before going back to writing the message. "Oh god, I've gotta find Squeals, she'll know how to either get through thick-headed boy's skulls or at least how to manage a raging lady-boner." Kat whined as she stomped out of my lab, and I again wish I had emotions, because as lewd and ridiculous as the situation was, I'm sure I would've found it funny.
[Pick Your Poison]
"So! How do they look?" Skidmark asked my opinion as he exaggeratedly posed in gesture to the assembled and equipped Jeepers and Creepers. "I think they look fucking badass!"
"I cannot attest to levels of badassery, but I can agree that for their roles, both groups would very easily fit the jobs assigned to them." I agreed on other terms than simply their looks.
The Jeepers were, aside from their blue hooded coats, an eye-catching splash of color, their choice in shirts, pants, and shoes all a wide arrangement of colors, their plastic jug gas masks also an opaque random paint color, some even tie-dye. One however also had tie-dye absolutely everywhere, including his coat and armor which for the others were bare. I don't know how or why that happened, but he'd be the biggest target and I hope he knows it. Because that's what the Jeepers were, the distraction, the vanguard.
The Creepers, under the scattered blacklights, looked like hook-armed ghosts with bulky shoulders, bucket heads, and otherwise just looked like some sort of nighttime dance routine waiting to happen. Their outfits were made for stealth, and to muffle their noises. The hooks were a lethal last solution to being discovered, while also giving them an invisible weapon they couldn't drop, since it was integrated with the costume.
"So long as the Jeepers distract, the Creepers should be able to sneak around or ambush the unaware." I reiterated, and Skidmark laughed triumphantly for having thought of this while he was still a strung-out dullard.
"This is great! As soon as we get all thirty of these guys set on a target, the ABB won't know what hit them! I'd like more, but we need convincing actors for the first act of this new play! The actors are ready, but the stage isn't set! Although, I'd also like it more if we have the Peepers on overwatch, but that's the only thing missing." Skidmark sighed theatrically. He's such a goob now, I think I could've gotten to like him.
As for the Peepers, they were still in the development stages. Squealer was having trouble with her project for them, and several runners were scouring the ship graveyard, train yard, and junk yard for the parts she needed. I wasn't paying much attention to anything besides my Addictol and Surge development or my correspondence with Winslow's Rats. I'm perplexed as to why several of the women in the crew have already asked for Surge since I haven't finished testing it, even saying they didn't care about that and wanted a jug of it anyway, which forced me to make more and have a couple of runners actually go out and buy more whey protein.
Females, such perplexing creatures.
"So now what?" Asked one of the twenty Jeepers, specifically the tie-dye one.
"We've gotta wait for some fucking news on an ABB hotspot we can hit. Gotta make it a big first haul too, since we'll need the funds and loot from the raid to help Deal and Squeal make better stuff." Skidmark explained, irritated at how little information his runners had been able to gather on the ABB's operations. Aside from a couple small drug labs even smaller than the one we'd lost last week, there was no sign of a major supply cache or safehouse as of yet.
"I have news." Trainwreck intoned, getting everyone on the main floor of the fishery to turn towards the lumbering mechanical man as he entered, who if I was reading his posture right, something I'd been practicing, he was glum, or annoyed.
"Well spill the beans Trainwreck, what's up?" Skidmark asked curiously, and Trainwreck sighed.
"I've gotten in contact with an...outside source, who is a font of information. They say they know where a decently sized ABB cache is. Too big to hit with just a few guys, but too small to hit with too many at once." Trainwreck declared, and Skidmark, no longer an idiot, quirked his face as he crossed his arms.
"Who's this informant?" Skidmark ordered with curiosity.
"Tattletale from the Undersiders." Trainwreck grumbled, clearly annoyed at having had to even talk to...who?
"Who are they?" I voiced, because I had no idea who this person or their group was.
"Some little hot-shit all-cape villain team. They've only been around the past month or so, nobody knows much of anything about the little fucks other than Bitch is their heavy hitter." Skidmark informed me rather poorly. "Before you ask more stupid questions, just go on PHO like everyone else Dealer."
"Forums are for plebeians and trolls, if it's credible information I want, i look for a Wiki." I dislike forums. So clustered, and hard to find reliable information on, he can't be serious.
"Forums are for the informed in this fucked-up parahuman world, get used to surfing the shit-sea for info." Skidmark cackled, and I didn't react. "Geez, I fucking forget you're a damn statue sometimes. So, think it's reliable Train?"
"Tattletale, while a really fucking annoying know-it-all bitch, is in fact a real know-it-all. If she says she knows something, she does. She won't admit when she doesn't know something though, and she'll find out before she says anything of the sort. So yeah, she's legit. She'll burn bridges if she pointlessly drops fake info, so I trust it." Trainwreck reasoned, and Skidmark gestured for him to continue. "Believe it or not, the nearest big cache the ABB have isn't even four blocks west of here."
"You're fucking shitting me!" Skidmark declared in frustration, smacking his forehead with a groan. "What're our guys doing out there?! Playing with their dicks?!"
"To be fair, the ABB only go in and out through the sewers." Trainwreck added on, and Skidmark grumbled about the shitty ABB and their shitty shittiness. Even the Merchants didn't use the sewers with regularity, we preferred the storm drain system, less refuse.
"Okay then, I can forgive our boys not finding it then. So what's the address?" Skidmark asked with a feral grin, the Jeepers and Creepers all visibly eager to get moving, while I just hoped this went well.
[Pick Your Poison]
I stood next to Squealer on the roof of yet another ubiquitous abandoned apartment building on the edge of the docks area. This may have only been four blocks west of the fishery and Lord Street Market, but it marked an invisible line separating the docks from the slums. This street, long having lost it's road signs, was once the place the dockworkers lived either permanently or temporarily during the Bay's heyday as a shipping hub. Before the Endbringer Leviathan decided ocean shipping lanes were easy targets.
Like most of North Brockton Bay, this section of the city was left forgotten, rotting. Everything north of Downtown was just slums and abandoned industrial from a bygone era. I mused over the cruelty of it all, the unfair conditions people who were forced to live out here had to deal with. I looked over at Squealer who was looking through a telescope. Yes, an actual telescope. To peer down at the boarded up and clearly 'abandoned' cache house.
She was just a prime example of what this city did to the poor, destitute, or unwanted. Even though she had also taken Addictol and was on her own once-a-week Surge diet now, Squealer was still a good pointer to what happened if you weren't born even lower-middle-class in this city. "They've got it boarded up tight. Place is too fragile to just ram a van into though, it'd probably come crumbling down."
"So what can we do? I don't think we have any handheld battering rams." I asked, wondering what we would end up doing, since nobody wanted to skulk through the stink of the sewers like the ABB were willing to.
"We're gonna have to hope having Train bust down the front door won't cause anything to come down with it." Squealer put down the telescope, collapsed it against her thigh, and put her helmet back on from where she'd set it down. Tapping the side of it to activate a built-in earphone she got from the market sometime ago. "Okay Train, you're up."
I watched attentively, waiting to see something happen. I didn't have to wait long, as Train suddenly appeared as if from nowhere and shoulder-barged through the front door, taking just a bit of masonry with him. Shouts in various Asian languages were heard, shortly before small-arms gunfire followed. I didn't have to worry, because Train wasn't going to be stopped by something as trivial as a pistol.
Then, came the Jeepers.
They poured out of more invisible vans, all twenty of them armed with cheap old pump-action shotguns the Merchants had a stash of since shotgun ammo was cheap and there were plenty of old hunting and sporting goods stores that had gone under and been forced to abandon stock. The sounds of their superior firepower was soon heard, followed by the screams of agony as the balcoat-treated birdshot the shells were loaded with also ignited from the powder, a sadistic combination one of the ex-military members had thought up.
Not even five minutes later, the place was deadly silent save a couple Jeepers with extinguishers clearly using them on the corpses to keep the place from catching fire, and the protests of some captured ABB being led out by the Creepers and tossed in the 'prison' van that was brought for such an occasion. They'd be dropped off in front of the BBPD station furthest from ABB turf in the southern end of the city.
If I wasn't so dead inside, I think I would have been appalled at such cold brutality. Only 4 ABB were taken prisoner, their weapons bagged in freezer bags so the cops could arrest them. There were supposed to be 12 gangers here.
I watched as the Jeepers, and apparently some Creepers from the floating boxes, were loading the cache's contents into the very vans they had come from, Trainwreck already heading for his original van to head back to the fishery. We'd take everything; drugs, money, weapons, ammo, even some furniture. This was only the first, and it was too easy. There was no response from the lookouts, no inbound ABB reinforcements, no sudden explosions so Oni Lee hadn't been contacted, and no sudden...fiery explosions, so Lung clearly wasn't going to be an issue tonight.
This felt pathetically simple. Was it really this easy to just rob a major gang?
"C'mon Dealer, we've gotta skedaddle." Squealer said, moving to a fire escape, I cautiously followed as the sounds of far-off police sirens made their way here with all the relevancy of a rainstorm on the horizon.
I got into the van at the bottom of the escape, Rahj and Howard both masked with their ski masks and with pistols ready. As soon as the door closed, we pulled out of the alley, and I looked as the tie-dyed Jeeper tagged the building we'd just assaulted and looted.
A great blue stylized M with dollar signs around it would let the ABB and possibly the city know, we were done playing games.
