Outreach 6.3
Intel in hand, I was ready to start gathering people together to start the ball rolling on this Truce. There was only one problem: out of the six groups, only two of them had actually sent me an e-mail. Grue's e-mail was the uninspired "This is my e-mail address." along with his e-mail address, which was the same as the address it was sent from. Trickster's was "Thus I invoke myself!" whatever that meant. Unfortunately, I now needed to get word out to Coil, the Merchants, Faultline's Crew, and the E88. Of the four, I had no idea how to contact Coil, and honestly didn't want to bother. Starting with the easiest, I headed northwest towards the Midway, finding a group that would've looked homeless if it weren't for their tacky clothing. Bums had a certain aesthetic after all, even if it was accidental.
Dropping down in front of them, they froze. "We weren't selling drugs!" one of the women squeaked. She looked anywhere between mid-twenties to mid-forties, depending on when she started using. I just floated there, not actually touching down.
"Suuure, you weren't. Have you heard about the truce?" I asked, getting blank stares in return. Sighing I looked around, spotting a newspaper box. Those are still a thing? I thought, before shrugging. Front and center was the story "Heroes and Villains Work Together to Save Brockton Bay!" which I pointed at it. It took them a full minute to read it.
"So, you're working with us?" an older man asked, teeth rotten, face scrunched up in confusion.
I shrugged again, "Don't sell to kids and I won't care for now. What I really want to know is where Skidmark is. I, through my sources, have found myself in possession of intel he has great need of." I received blank stares. "I have information he would find most useful?" Still nothing. I sighed, "One of my friends told me something cool, and I want to tell Skidmark."
"Why didn't you say so?" the man asked, giving me directions. "Ya wanna buy somethin'?" he asked hopefully.
I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, I don't do drugs." I did reach into a pouch and pull out my wallet, handing him a twenty. "For the help. Thank you!"
He just looked at it, surprised as I took off to follow his instructions. Finding the location took a bit, but, "The warehouse across from the broken up seven-eleven with the tag that Jimmy left on the side," was easy enough once I figured out it was the abandoned convenience store that was tagged, and that Jimmy spelled his name with a g, two i's, and only one m.
Walking inside I felt the swish of air, barely catching a baseball bat that was headed for my skull. Looking at the person who swung with a raised eyebrow, I casually crumbled the hollow metal in my fist. "Oh. Um. Sorry?" the girl, who must've been all of nine said, smiling at me from her position on top of a milk crate. "I heard there was a Hero, and I thought it was one of the bad ones!"
I blinked at that. "Shouldn't you be in sch- right they closed. I'm looking for Skidmark, I have information for him."
"He should be back with my cousin Sherrel!" she chirped.
I had to ask, "Does your cousin know you're guarding the door?"
She shook her head. "I'm supposed to be helpin' her, but that's so booooring! The guy who was supposed to be here said he was going to smoke some weed. Why would someone smoke weeds?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion. I tried to think of a way to tell her why when she started laughing. "Oh! Your face! I know he's getting high. Still makes him a poopy guard though."
"Poopy?" I asked, words coming unbidden as my brain restarted.
"Well, I'm not supposed to say swears like Sherrel's boyfriend! That's what my mom says!" she informed me disapprovingly, as if I should be ashamed for just asking.
Sighing, I handed her the bat back, Crushing the top evenly to make it a long cudgel. "That makes perfect sense. Check who you're hitting first, just in case it's someone who won't go down, like Aegis or Armsdi- Armsmaster."
She looked at me like she knew what I almost said and was judging me, before smiling brightly, revealing that she was missing a few teeth. "Okay mister Vejovis!"
I patted her on the head, walking deeper into the warehouse, following the sound of power tools and swearing, both equally high pitched. As I walked closer, I found myself facing the gaudiest looking armored van I'd ever seen. The swearing was coming from below it. "Isabella Ann Bailey!" the voice commanded in tones that sounded like someone had gotten a whiff of helium. "I know you're out there, hand me the three-fourths torque wrench!" A greasy feminine arm waved from below the front. Looking over I found what she wanted, handing it to her. "Thank you!" she replied huffily, quickly using it to do something.
I couldn't resist. "No problem my dear," I responded calmly, maybe deepening my voice a tad for effect. "Is there anything else you desire?"
The ratcheting immediately stopped. "Isabella?" the woman who must've been Squealer asked, fear tremoring in her voice.
"If you mean the young blonde girl, she's still guarding the front, the original guard left to get high. She tried to cave my head in with a baseball bat, the little scamp. She apologized, and I believe is still there, trying to protect you," I reassured.
"Oh, okay," she said, slowly sliding out from the car, revolver trained on me. "Isabella!" she called out, voice shrill. Shriller.
"Yeah?" came the faint reply.
"Why aren't ya here, like I told ya!" Squealer, well, squealed.
"It's borin'!" was the faint reply.
I sighed, as the Tinker got ready to try to pierce my eardrums again.
"Little miss, if you could come over here, you won't have to shout." I called, enhancing my voice a tad.
"Okay!" came the call, the sound of small feet running up as she turned the corner, skidding to a halt, baseball bat held behind her, but listing to the side over her shoulder.
Squealer went pale as she saw the smushed end of the bat. As she looked at me, I shrugged. "I crushed the end, it was only fair to make it a better weapon once the misunderstanding was dealt with."
The Isabella nodded as she told the Tinker, "Yeah, he was really nice! Not like your boyfriend at all! Maybe you should date him instead!"
Squealer went red, "I could neva' do that to Skidsy!" she glanced at me, and I accidentally met her eyes, which just turned her redder. Having never considered the possibility I truly looked at her. While I did have a bit of a thing for Wrench Wenches, the ability to truly focus on objective tasks and the ability to prioritize projects over social niceties when the second was not needed both appealed to me, and the fact that she was well built were both points in her favor. However, the voice, the drug addiction, the lack of forethought, or any discernable intelligence whatsoever, and the abysmal taste she had in men all made that a hell to the fuck no.
I glanced back at Isabella, who had seen me looking and smiled encouragingly, turning to a pout when I shook my head no. "I'm actually here to talk to him," I informed the Tinker, getting her attention. "I've gained information on the location of ABB strongholds we could strike. However, I haven't received an e-mail from the Merchants and thus have no means of contacting you, so I came in person. If you could please send me a message on the email on my card, I could help coordinate everyone's efforts."
I realized I'd done it again and was about to simplify when Squealer nodded. "Oh, right. Sure!" Raising my estimation of her, slightly, she flounced over to a plastic case, opening it up to reveal a laptop. Closing the diagnostic program, she reached into one of her belt pockets, pulling out one of my cards and typing up a quick e-mail.
Receiving it, I read aloud "Thanks for being nice to my cousin!" I smiled. "No problem, she's adorable. Thank you for your assistance. Once I'm in contact I'll send everyone a message on possible locations." Squealer looked red again, probably upset that I read the e-mail out loud, and I walked out, ruffling Isabella's hair as I passed her.
The little girl started to follow when Squealer yelled, "Isabella! You stay here where I can see you!"
"But you're under that stupid car all the time!" she responded.
"It's not a stupid car, it's my baby and ya know what I mean!"
The girl asked, with a tone of fake confusion hiding mischievousness "If that's your baby, then why does Momma say that Aunt Clara's surprised you don't have one already?"
"ISABELLA!"
Looking online as I flew over the city, I found Faultline's Crew had an e-mail address, so I sent one off to them asking if this is the one they'd like to receive mission intel on. Waiting for a response I stopped at a downtown restaurant to get an early lunch to kill time. The waiter asked if I was really working with villains, so I shrugged responding "To take down a group who, by the amount of death and destruction they've cause, should all have kill orders? Yes. If that's what it takes to protect this city." I glanced at the other people listening in. "My people should've released a press statement. If you have further questions, please ask them."
I still hadn't received a reply, so I called Taylor after I took to the air once more. "Hey Lady Bug," I told her as soon as she picked up. "How's things?"
"Oh, um, pretty good. . . You?" she asked, stumbling a little over the social niceties.
"Pretty good. I found some Intel on the ABB, but I'm having some difficulties in getting everyone to communicate. Can you ask Tattletale where I can find Faultline?"
"Oh, sure." She responded, the sound of her walking and asking faint. "Um, she says it's a club called Palanquin," I couldn't quite make out what Lisa was saying, but it sounded like a lot more than that.
"Anything else?"
"Um, no. Not really," she reassured, walking away from the ranting Thinker as I tried to hear what she said. Was that my name? "Do you have time to train today?"
"Probably not. We'll see about tomorrow, but we'll probably be going after the ABB then."
"Oh. Okay." The obvious dejection in her voice tugged at my heartstrings, rearranging my schedule.
"I'll drop by the Undersider's hideout this evening, I need to drop some stuff off there anyways."
"Oh, okay!" she echoed herself, this time hopeful.
"I'll see you later, stay safe."
"I will!" she promised. I hung up and found the address, heading over to it and landing out front. The club was closed, sign dark, but after knocking on the door for a bit I heard the lock slide. Newter opened the entrance, looking at me. "Hey man, what's up?"
"Newter, right?" I asked, and he grinned and nodded, happy to be recognized. "My contacts have found the locations of ABB bases, but your boss never sent me a message, so I need her to, to help organize everyone. Also, if she could ask Coil to do so as well that would be great."
He blinked. "It's been, like, a day dude. How did you get those so fast?"
"Hired a precog," I shrugged.
"Aren't they like, super expensive?" he asked, scratching the back of his head. "Or, like, work for the government?"
I smiled. "I know a guy who knows a girl. I was waiting for the PRT to get their heads out of their collective asses, but they appear to be stuck, so that means I need to step forward, so I am. So, ask your boss to contact me? And Coil as well?"
He smiled. "Sure thing bro!"
I held out my hand, "Thank you."
Newter looked at my head in trepidation. "Um, my power is pretty heavy-duty drug sweat."
"And my costume isn't permeable," I told him, still holding my hand out. And I'm immune to all poisons, but let's not share that anytime soon.
"Oh!" he smiled wildly, giving my hand a firm shake. "Cool! See you around!"
"Same," I responded, taking off.
I received an e-mail from Faultline a few minutes later, along with Coil's contact information, which wasn't exactly what I wanted, but worked just as well. That left the E88. Joy. I toyed with the idea of just walking into the Medhall building and asking to speak to Max Anders, but with Purity on the team, and his narrow, narrow mind he'd assume that she told me, ignoring any evidence to the contrary.
Landing instead in front of a bunch of skinheads, who glared at me, I jovially requested, "Hello, I have information for Kaiser and he has neglected to give me a way of contacting him. Can one of you," I almost wanted to say 'fine fellows' but that was too much, even in jest, "Members of the Empire Eighty-Eight either put me in contact with him, or with someone who can?"
They spread out a little, weapons coming out. Did they not get the memo that I was a Brute? "You can tell us, race-traitor," one of the morons told me.
I sighed. "I am currently working under Truce, so I will not strike the first blow. I will however, strike the last one you will ever have. Either tell me where to go or call someone." One of them pointed a pistol at me. I rolled my eyes, pulling my own out, layering five Speed Zones inside it. "Mine's better," I replied blandly, shooting a trashcan, which promptly jerked back, the back exploding, peppering the wall behind it with debris.
"Shit," one of them swore. I looked blandly at what I assumed was their leader, given how the others looked to him, who glared, trying not to gawk at the trashcan like some of his men. "Make the call," he told someone else, who took out a phone. I stood there, waiting, until from down the street walked two men, the second heatedly discussing something with the first, whose voice was firm and displayed absolute calm. The first, Kreig, was the older man I'd seen at the Truce meeting. The other man, with tight Yellow and Red flames, had the power of Skill Theft, Via Eye-Contact, Physical Contact, and Observation of the Skill.
What must have been Victor, a designation which would have been only uninspired if it also wasn't his actual name, thus pushing it into dumbass territory, was clad in black pants, black and red boots, and a black breastplate over a red shirt. He also had black fingerless gloves and a black and red mask, the eyes and top open to show off his Aryan blonde hair and blue eyes. Looking at him, he looked back, his power trying to make contact through my eyes but bouncing off.
Must be the mask I thought, not really angry, just disappointed. Not even a single damn day and people are already trying to test and break the agreement. This is why heroes never work with villains short of Endbringers. I gave a mental sigh, Fine. Cross him off the list of possible redemption. He thought my Hero status bound me to act with honor, but the restrictions of honor only extend to the honorable. You want to play Villain? Let's play, Outlaw.
"Try to steal my skills Victor, and I'll kill you for breaking the Truce," I called cordially, though I didn't smile. Kreig shot him an angry look and the thief shrugged like it didn't matter.
"You started it," he called, "Harassing our men."
"I came to ask how to get in contact with your organization and haven't touched them. If a simple question is what you consider harassing, you must have awful luck with women," I retorted, annoyed that my own agreement to a Truce they seemed to not honor brought me here to deal with scum as equals instead of giving them what they obviously deserved. His antagonistic actions were so incredibly petty and short sighted, I honestly was hard pressed to understand why, he'd do it. Then again, the same could be said of racism. I hated using labels to explain actions, but he was a Nazi.
As his power reached out to me again, starting ever so slightly to leach my manual dexterity, I levelled the pistol at his head. He seemed unimpressed, though his confusion at the gang-member's scared reactions did still the miniscule drain. "If you try to steal another of my skills, I shall shoot you once. If you do so again I shall reclaim it from your brain physically, and I shall be in the right, as you broke the Truce your leader agreed on."
Kreig quietly but forcefully rebuked the younger man, though I didn't flex my power to fully listen in in case Cricket was hiding nearby. The older man waved for me to lower my weapon, which I did. "What do you want?" he asked when he was a dozen feet away. Victor smiled as he looked at the ground between us. If I had to guess he was sure that he'd, I don't know, take my ability to fly, leaving me confused and defenseless while he closed the distance before I could shoot. Dumbass.
I stood straight and formally informed the older villain, "I have been working to help end the ABB, as per our Truce, and have leveraged some of my assets to gain intel on the location of ABB strongholds."
"Then tell us and get the hell out of here, Bug Boy," Victor sneered.
I didn't look at him. "Kreig, please tell your thin-skinned thief to mind his manners. I will not go out of my way to antagonize him but blebly-" my tongue caught on itself as Victor's power lashed out, lessening my ability to speak. My power flashed through my body and copied the immoral ability, the physical effects plain enough for my own power to activate. I whipped my gun forward, shooting him in the hand, blowing it off, along with part of his forearm. The flesh pasted as it was hit by the equivalent of an anti-tank weapon, most of the force continuing on to break the pavement which was spraying red as he fell to the ground in shock.
The thugs watched, frozen, as Kreig looked between us, unsure. The older man got ready to fight as I strode forward, towards the moron who was screaming and holding what was left of his arm while he writhed on the ground.
"Sobby, but he thtole an abilbty, and I beplied as I plomised. I'm baking sube he doethn't die." I stumbled over the words, and I was tempted to shoot him in the head. Just like Regent, he couldn't control himself, and now I had another power I would never use. Unlike Regent I had no qualms killing this mad dog. 'Pulling' off a glove with my teeth, I touched Victor's arm, covering the bloody ragged stump of his forearm with skin, stopping the bleeding, and giving him enough Get Better to keep him of dying of shock or blood loss, though he was still moaning like a bitch.
Stowing my gun, I put the glove back on, running through exercises like 'Toy Bot" and "She Sells Sea Shells" for several minutes until my ability to speak clearly returned, having only had the slightest of drains. I looked disdainfully down at the pathetic excuse for a cape whining at my feet. "Oh pull yourself together you petty little thief. Your wife will heal you when you get back. And for the love of god, get thicker skin. I don't know, steal the social armor off a streetwalker or something. I couldn't even get through telling you that I wouldn't resort to violence or powers first, and would not be the one who, so upset that I lost a social battle that I would lash out like a child, when you went ahead and did so, ruining the entire point what I was trying to say! Oh, and just so you know, if you steal skills from me or any of my team again, I will kill you, Truce or no."
I looked at Kreig, who was watching me like a hawk, his power already wrapped around me, but while the air resistance was primed to kick in, it was not actually active enough for me to copy. "You, I have no problem with. You seem professional, and that I can admire. If you ever decided to change sides, you should give me a call. In the meantime, as I said, I found the location of ABB bases. If you, or someone in your organization could send me an e-mail, I could start coordinating everyone. So far, the only people I haven't heard back from are the E88, and Coil."
I reached into a pouch and he stilled, relaxing minutely when I took out another of my cards. "In case Kaiser did something silly like shred his in a fit of pique, here's another. If I have not heard back from him or his people by," I checked my phone. "Six tonight, I'll start making plans without him or your organization, which would be a shame considering the firepower they can bring to bear." I glanced down at the still moaning villain at our feet. "Not counting him."
Kreig shot me a resigned look, "You aren't going to give me the addresses, are you?"
I shook my head, smiling. "I would, but then Kaiser would rush in for glory or to look like he's the strongest or something silly, which would ignore the entire point of the Truce. Sorry, no, once we've determined the strike teams I'll supply the information. Not before."
He nodded. "Had to ask. Do you have any other business here?"
"No, telling you this was the only reason I visited your territory. Have a nice day." I held out my hand, and after a moment he shook it, his grip strong, but not 'I'm so macho' crushing like I'm sure Victor would have tried.
Generally happy with this interaction, I took off, flying back to base to take a shower and wash off the scent of idiocy I might've picked up when Victor bled on me.
