Outreach 6.2
I left the room to recompose myself, Herb talking quietly to a shell-shocked Purity. Charlie followed me after a minute, holding his helmet loosely under his arm. "So, we're in Worm. Kinda wish I read it now."
I gave a short laugh. "Yeah, but I didn't expect this to happen when I asked you to." He nodded. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face him. "What I don't get, is why you're here, not that I'm upset by that, but it ruins my only working theory. Herb and I did a silly Choose Your Own Adventure prompt, and dad did as well, and while it's a stupid thing, it's the only one we all had in common that no-one else did." He froze, eyes going wide. I continued on, suddenly suspicious, "Our powers are straight from that, and from what I can tell reading between the lines, dad's powers matched what he chose, though he's lying about it to the public, pretending to be a Thinker instead of a precog. You didn't though, so do you have any idea what happened?"
He gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah. About that."
I stared at him. "What did you do Chuckles?"
"I may have done the same thing when you and Herb went to go get dinner. Allegedly." He winced, defending himself, "You left your computer open and it looked interesting!"
I gave him an unimpressed look. "What options did you choose, I already know your powers." It was more of a demand than a question.
He scratched the back of his head. "I don't really remember?" He winced again at my glare. "Okay, um, I took some of those bad start things, and the powerless start, because it had the whole 'nothing to something' thing I like, plus it gave so many points."
I put my face in my hands, groaning, "You took the 'the world wants to kill me' option with the 'no power' option. Do we need to talk about your latent suicidal tendencies?"
"Hey!" he objected. "It turned out okay!"
"Dude! You took the 'I have no powers and I must scream' combo!" I buried my face in my hands again. "Okay, let's go down the fucking list, if I can remember them, since you don't! Do you have a nemesis? You'd have to build them."
"Nah man," he reassured. "That was way too much work."
"Thank god for your laziness then!" I growled. "Is your ass being hunted by anyone?"
"Not from the villain part, but there was the rainy slenderman and the blonde girl who was missing part of her face. They gave a lot of points, but I can stop time!" he smiled.
I looked at him. "Endbringer Target and Slaughterhouse Nine?"
"Yeah! That's it!" His face fell, "Oh, oh shit."
I sighed. "Yes, 'oh shit'. Okay, uh, what do you remember from what you've read of Worm."
He shrugged, "Just what you told me. I told you I didn't read it"
I groaned again. "I thought you meant you hadn't finished it. Okay, you said you had a base?" he nodded. "Okay, did you take the thing that made you part of the overall plan?" He shrugged. "The one with Tattletale." Another shrug. I sighed. "The blonde chick on the tightrope."
"Oh, her. That's Tattletale? Nice bod," he grinned. "Yeah, took that!"
"She's underage!" I rebuked.
"How underage?" he asked. "'cause I'm seventeen, and a villain."
"Her power makes her Sherlock Holmes on crack. More crack," I amended. "Did you get Cauldron vials?"
"Three of 'em. No idea who I'm going to give them to though. Any ideas?"
I shook my head. "Sorry, just be careful, those will be damn powerful, and only work on people who have no powers. Did you get Blindspot? The one that hides you from precogs."
He nodded, "Yeah, I read what that 'Path to Victory' thing did! I don't want any of that!"
Breathing a sigh of relief, I asked, "Did you get Negentropy? The eternal power option?"
"Fuck no, did you see how much that cost? What kind of retard would pick that one!" he responded instantly. I just looked at him. "Oh. Sorry. Really? You could've gotten an awesome power, another vial, and a follower for that many points."
"I think long term," I ground out.
He shrugged. "Can't think long term if you're dead." He flinched at my glare. "Sorry, but it's true."
I motioned for him to put his helmet on, shifting back to Vejovis guise. "Come on, I'll fly you back to your base."
He followed me out, taking my arm, the two of us lifting off into the sky. "So, don't take this the wrong way," he said once we'd risen above the city. "But I really don't want to join your team. I mean, I have my own group, and I just realized that maybe saying this when we're this high up was a bad idea."
I laughed, waving him off. "Like I'd drop you." He looked at me. "Like, for real instead of just messing with you," I clarified. "Nah, that makes sense. Probably better this way. We can work together, but the PRT wouldn't take 'heroes' claiming territory that well, even if we literally make life better for everyone in the process. Keep your crime to the Amsterdam model and I won't have a problem."
"The what?" he asked, confused.
"People want to do a lot of the things that are illegal, because the laws that are regularly broken were mostly made by authoritarian virtue signalers, just look at the 'war on drugs'. If you set up places where people do illegal things, but in non-stupid ways, there shouldn't be much of a problem. Standardize your drug trade, making sure the product is clean and uniform, and don't sell on credit while only selling to adults," I explained.
"Provide places to get high with medical staff to administer the harder drugs and make sure that everyone's safe. Similarly, don't let people gamble on credit, and don't gamble yourself, making sure your organization is neutral in the process. Prostitution? Needs to be voluntary, which should go without saying. Past that, provide them medical care, keep the girls safe, require the use of protection, and an inspection of the client to avoid disease. Also, again, no credit. Providing a safe, reliable way for people to feed their vices will cut down on regular crime and make you a lot of money."
I considered a few general rules, settling on, "No kids, no violence for anyone who isn't an actively consenting party, like a well-regulated fight club or something, and no putting people in debt cuts down on almost all the problems you could have. People will still do stupid illegal shit, but with you there, they'll be minor nuisances at best."
"The cops and the PRT are corrupt as all hell, but love themselves some status quo, so after the initial uproar things should quiet the hell down. Take some territory and lie low. Leviathan is coming here in the middle of May, not sure exactly when, and after that the city will unfortunately be wrecked enough that swooping in and claiming it'll be child's play. After we fight off the Slaughterhouse Nine in the beginning of June, it'll be a lock, and we can look into expanding both of our organizations, probably into Boston." I finished. "So where's your base?"
He pointed to a church almost at the top of Captain's hill. "You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"
I shrugged, descending. "Not really."
Dropping him off and exchanging numbers I found out that the church had been closed and he'd re-opened it as a Universalist place of worship, which honestly kind of fit. I was introduced to the priest on duty, who I'd recognized as the leader of the raid that'd gone bad. After a somewhat awkward conversation as the leader got his head around a hero knowing what Æonic was doing, and being cool with it, I left, returning back to base. Herb and Kayden were gone, which left me free to relax.
I spent an hour typing up the bare-bones of a press release I wanted Quinn to release for me, detailing the truce, why it happened, why a hero was going along with it, and what to expect. The return e-mail exuded resigned acceptance but promised it would be out in a few hours. After making dinner, I was surprised to find that I'd received a missive from The Neutral Party, asking to meet, with a time and place to do so the next morning.
After a couple hours of meditation, I settled in to continue reading the Base Manual, and tanking shots, my Weaponry Projection easing the slowly growing need to scrounge more ammunition for me in order to continue training that power. None of my shields split, but not only had I found the armory, a hidden switch in the computer room needed to be pressed to open it, I'd finally found what looked to be what was supposed to be the first chapter of the document, just in time to leave for my meeting shortly after Dawn.
Heading to the location, I found myself in front of a skyscraper downtown. Handing the receptionist the information I'd been given, I was shown to a meeting room on the twenty-sixth floor. Walking inside there was a man in a black suit, leather gloves, and what looked to be a motorcycle helmet sitting at the end of a conference table, flanked by a pair of very large men in suits, concealed pistols evident by the bulge in their jackets.
I Saw the Black and Silver flames of his power, similar in intensity to Herb or my little brother, confirming who he was. The Likelihood of someone else having the combination of the astral projection of Trance, the inability to be tracked of Recordless, and the advanced precognitive direction of Destiny Weaver, were so small as to be insignificant.
"Hi!" I waved, not sure how to address him. Physically he didn't have the same body type as my father, lacking the broad-shouldered build, but from the CYOA he chose to drop-in to a pre-existing person. It was honestly an odd feeling.
He flinched, before giving a deep sigh, turning to one of the guards. "Please guard the door. This discussion needs to have utmost privacy." The man nodded, he and his opposite walking past me, closing the door behind them, a green light turning on over the door a moment later. "I suppose the name 'Jack Rycroft' means something to you?" he asked, voice somehow unmuffled by his helmet.
I nodded, "He's my father." He made no motion in response, so I took a risk. "Aren't you?"
Sighing again, hanging his head, he acknowledged, "In a manner of speaking." Reaching up, seeming to fight himself, he took off his helmet, the face that stared back at me unfamiliar, but the resigned look of annoyance all dad. Grinning back, I took off my mask with a 'ta-da' motion. He stared at me, looking me over before focusing on my face. "Your mother was right," was his only comment. "You do look better without all the fat."
I winced, but that kind of statement was the kind of thing he did. Blunt, and meant to be a compliment, but my father only noticed subtext when he focused on something, never noticing his how his own subconscious warped his phrasing to be cutting. Honestly, while I appreciated the fact that he tried not to lie, he didn't need to be such a dick about it. I dealt my own harsh truths liberally, but at least I did so on purpose. Mostly. I walked over, taking a seat next to him. "So?" I started, waving at him. "How does the whole 'Insert' thing work?"
He sighed, shrugging. "It's. . . odd. I took over someone's life. I'd almost say I killed him, but he's still here," he tapped his forehead, "Which I'm not sure how I feel about. I think if I wanted to, I could have gotten rid of him, but. . . no. I avoided killing anyone in the service, thank God I never had to. It makes me wonder how much of what you see is. . . me." He paused, looking at me. "You've already had to kill, from what I've seen. I. I'm sorry."
I matched him, shrugging and sighing, though mine was less tired resignment and more of an uncaring negation. The Rycroft sigh was a complex method of communication, almost on level with the Uchiha 'Hn'. "They were men and women who lived by preying on the weak. The Merchants sell drugs to children, the ABB have forced prostitution brothels, and the E88 are literal Nazis. They've made their choice. I have the ability to stop them," I finished, the rest of the sentence obvious.
It was his turn to wince, sighing in unfortunate agreement. "and while it isn't your responsibility, that wouldn't matter to either of us, because we're here. And you're here now to ask me to join your group?" I nodded. "I don't think that's a good idea," he told me, "I know how to run coffee shops, not capes."
I froze, the words of grateful welcome dying on my lips. "I'm sorry, what. Why?"
He looked at me, face grim. "I can do more to help by remaining The Neutral Party, and I have no way to fight. As much as I'd like to help, it's an unacceptable risk for almost no benefit." He sighed with sad humor. "And that's how I know Medhu is still in there, but he's got a point."
I didn't let my disappointment show. I'd hoped he would've joined, but my father wasn't the frontline type, or even the leadership type. It was a damn shame, because he was far better than I was at balancing logistics and strategy, but only if he had time to think. The only way I could beat him in RTS games was to harry him, hitting him on multiple fronts faster than he could respond. Given enough time to plan, and if he could control the flashpoints, I lost almost every game.
Together though, we were a force. Growing up there was a game we played, Urban Assault, which had a cooperative mode that let two players control the same faction. He'd stay back, managing the larger strategy, minding the base, preparing defenses while I took control of our forces, piloting the ships directly while managing the offence. Even on the highest difficulty, when the computer just said, "screw it" and cheated, we still won four times out of five. I leaned forward, knowing that while he was resistant to a direct confrontation, he could be redirected as long as you didn't go against his underlying reason for choosing a position. "Okay, then use your precog to help direct us," I tried.
His flinched, "How did- Right, you're the one who helped me choose them. Sorry," he waved a hand. "There's still a lot of Medu's personality coloring, tainting, shading? The person I took over, Medhu, went through a lot to try to keep that a secret, even if he didn't think things through." A statement that was a damning indictment from my father. He frowned, nodding to himself. "That could work."
"You cou-" I started, cut off by his raised hand.
"A minute please." I waited the full minute, as he'd asked. "Yes," he said, looking up, a wry grin pulling up at his features oddly. "You're going to hire me, as The Neutral Party, to contact a paranoid precog for help. The Nazis think I have one on payroll already, thanks to Medhu's. . . overreaction. As such he- no, she will pass on information to you. You will, of course, negotiate an exclusive contract with her, and if the E88 had done so in the first place, instead of demanding her contact information, she would have of course have been amenable, but," he shrugged with a 'oh well' sigh, "They choose not to pursue that track at that time. Pity." His grin was all Jack, before settling into the more neutral expression he'd been reverting to.
I nodded, seeing where he was going. "And given that she is a precognitive, any attempt on your person to try to force that information she would pre-empt, or have the situation reversed in short order. That works. What's this precog's name?"
He grinned, mischief in his eyes. "Ms. Voyant."
I looked at him. "Her first name wouldn't be Claire, would it?"
"You must have a touch of the sight yourself!" he fake congratulated. I gave him a gimlet eye. "Okay, how about Ann?"
I frowned. "Ann? Is that short for something?"
"No."
I gave the sigh of the long-suffering, knowing this was a trap. "What's her last name?"
"Ticipation, of course!" he laughed.
I gave a groan, the cranky uncle of sighs. This is why we don't let him name things, I reminded myself. Might as well cut off that future a bit more. "How about Weaver. Like Fate Weaver, the name of her power, not that anyone else will get it," I proposed.
He shrugged, still laughing. "That works. You've negotiated a deal with Weaver, and thus will be the only one who has secured her services. Information which I will only share if someone asks."
"Okay, that works. Now, have you heard about the Truce?"
He nodded, "I read this morning's paper tonight. You sure you can trust them?"
Snorting, I shook my head. "Hell no, but I won't turn my back on them, and it'll help me recruit any who aren't there by choice. But because of that, we need to find the ABB Safehouses. Your precog, can you see the future where we find Bakuda's base and then direct us there?"
He shook his head in reply. "That's not how it works. I can choose options, but I see how things will turn out twelve hours later. I can't choose completed tasks that require information I don't have. But. . ." He paused as he thought, steepling his fingers, and I leaned back to give him time. "I can use the results I see to better choose paths. I could. . . No," he frowned. "I can't see you or anything you do. There's someone else I can't see either. It may be Boardwalk."
"Oh, right. I'm a Blindspot, as are you and Charlie, so tha-"
"Wait, Charlie's here?" he asked looking around. "You didn't say anything about him in your e-mail!"
I nodded. "Yeah, along with Herb, but Herb's not a Blindspot. Chuckles is Æonic, though I didn't find out until yesterday. He didn't come in the same way we did. But that's not important, right now. I, hmm. . ." I thought trying to find a way around the problem. "Right, so, possible futures. You call Herb and have him get everyone together, sans Charlie and myself, and have them go explore," I paused, pulling out my phone and pulling up a map of the city. "These blocks in destructive detail to find ABB Bases, to report back to you, without our involvement, the results, which you see. With that information, you do the same thing with the next sector on the map."
He nodded, pulling out a pad of paper from his suit and a pen. "That could work." As he looked into the middle distance, the blacks of his pupils expanded, covering his eyes entirely, a silver star sparking to life in the center of his now dark orbs. His power expanded as well, in a wave that exited in every direction, curling oddly around me. As I leaned back, I created a larger void in his power, which increased again when I poked the thin bubble of Black and Silver fire all around me. After few seconds it faded, and his eyes returned to normal, scribbling down something on the paper.
Leaning over to read he explained. "Here, four-fifty-six Oak. Kaiser finds a location, one of their Brothels, and Sundancer dies, whoever that is. Two of the teams find nothing, one of which is captured by the PRT. The fourth doesn't stay on track but finds an armory at thirty-seven Hale road, and fights Lung. Purity is killed by Hookwolf, and Break and Enter kill Hookwolf, Crusader, and Lung, setting the city on fire. Less than optimal."
I shook my head in agreement, noting the locations. "One which won't happen. Alright, next set of blocks," I requested.
He objected. "First, some coffee, this might go on for a while."
He ordered and we remasked, a nervous young man wearing a jacket from Mahatma Grindy entering a few minutes later with a cardboard tray of coffee and a bag of pastries.
After the repast, over which my father took pride in the quality of the coffee, as he apparently owned the company, we moved to continue the search. Finding five more locations in the next four 'dives' as my father called them, I made note of where and what they were, along with the response from the ABB. After the sixth, he emerged from his trance, eye clenched in pain as he wrote out what he'd seen. "Are you okay?" I asked, looking at him worriedly.
"Never done more than three or four dives at once. I think I found why." He gritted out. I waited for him as he took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Hokay, ahhh, yeah." After a couple more deep breaths and he opened his eyes, his pupils large and the hint of something silver in the center. "Do you recall how you warned me not to buy that disadvantage, the one that hurt if you pushed your power?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "That it?"
"I'm about to find out!" he informed, eyes going black once again. The fire in the center of his eyes had grown, from pinpricks of flame to circles nearly as big as his iris, each seeming to send inch long threads of flame out like tentacles that quickly were pulled taut. "Gah!" he cried, his eyes mostly returning to normal. "Mother-fracking piss bucket! That was a mistake! That's it for today, and maybe tomorrow. I need some downtime." He growled, hand snaking out, writing down three more locations, even as the other pressed hard against his eyes.
"Alright Jack," he told himself. "Stop at six, unless you want to feel like someone broke open your skull with an ice-pick through your eyes." I gave him a minute to collect himself. He motioned to the notes, eyes still covered, his free hand shaking slightly. "Have we given you enough to work with."
I looked at him in concern, nodding, before catching myself and telling him. "Yes! Definitely. More than enough!"
"Alright, I'm going to go home and lie down. If this passes I'll be able to help tomorrow, but not this much. I need to pace myself." He groaned, holding his eyes. "Okay?"
I hesitated, offering, "I can heal you a little, see if that helps."
He waved a hand. "Sure. Give it a shot."
Reaching out and exposing a fingertip, I touched the back of his neck. As I gave him the Get Better treatment he sighed, uncovering his eyes. His pupil had overtaken his iris, a small point of silver eye in the middle of each dark circle. "Thank you. That helps. Now I just have a migraine instead feeling like I headbutt a pack of rhinoceroses. Rhinoceri? You understand what I'm saying." He put on his helmet, wincing as he reached up and pressed a hidden switch. "And that's better. I believe our business has concluded for today. Weaver will be in touch with you again tomorrow if she feels better. Thank you, for your business." He hesitated, "And thank you for finding a way I could help. I want to do more, but. . ."
"You have no fighting powers," I finished. "Don't worry dad, this will be a massive help. Don't push yourself too hard tomorrow either, and definitely not past the pain point. I'm going to have enough trouble getting all the villains to work together, these locations will be more than enough to get us started."
I started to get up to leave, but he held up a hand. He had a final question. "So, we've come here, but what about where we left? Are they missing us, or is this a situation where time runs differently? Like the Witch and the Wardrobe. Narnia. Will we live a lifetime here and go back to where we left off with our lives? I just. . . I just don't want to think of leaving Laura alone."
I shrugged. With as much as I had to do, that had been a line of thought I'd been studiously avoiding. "If there is a way, when things calm down we can look into finding mom. There's cross-dimensional powers out there, and one might get us home. For now though, we have to worry about more immediate threats."
