Investments 14.11

As Karen left through the front door of the small house, I opened up a hole in the shield of hardened air protecting the structure, closing it up behind her after she passed through. "Is, is she gonna be okay?" Sherrel asked.

I got up and looked through the door's peephole as I nodded. "She knows what she's doing, and her costume's bulletproof." I could see what were obviously two parahumans, but I couldn't See them. Moving to the window I tried that instead, hoping that it was the distortion of the fish-eye lens was messing with my ability, but to my Sight, no one outside had powers, the glass enough to block my ability.

Sighing, I returned to my seat, took a deep breath, and focused my other senses outwards as Squealer took up position at the door, to see what was going on, gun in hand. Grabbing hold of the sound outside, I replicated it in front of me, causing the other woman to jump and look at me before going back to her position watching.

"-said, we're lookin' fer Squealer. We know she's fuckin' here, that's her fuckin' truck. Now get out of the way or I'm gonna fuckin make you, bitch!" the guy in dirty football pads snarled.

"'Bout this high, high pitch voice, giant tits?" Mouse asked, holding up her shield to Sherrel's height. The other woman, Hispanic and obviously a druggie, nodded sleepily. "Nope, haven't seen her. Y'all can go get high and not bathe somewhere else. This here's a respectable trailer park!"

Trailers? I thought, not having seen any. . . oh. All of the 'buildings' were converted trailers. That was. . . surprisingly inventive. A bit limiting in design, but a rather ingenious use of available, pre-fab materials.

"The fuck are you?" Pads shot back. "Her lezzie whore?"

One of the Merchants, armed with what looked like a rusted pipe, spoke up. "Nah Craven, that Mouse Protector, I remember her from tv."

"A fan!" Karen smiled. "So ya know why fightin' me isn't gonna work."

The Merchant hesitated, before starting to back up. "I'm not fighting MP, dude. That's not right. It'd be like, fightin' G.I. Joe or somethin'."

"You're gonna fight or your fuckin' walking home!" the football clad villain who called himself 'Craven' yelled.

"I'll pay for a cab," Karen offered, the gang-member flashing a grin full of yellowed teeth and running off to the side. "Any others?"

Sadly, before any others could take her up, Craven yelled, "Get that cunt, or I'll cave your fuckin' head in like I'm gonna kill that fucker!"

None of them commented on the fact that a guy named 'Craven' was yelling at a guy for cowardice, but started to move towards Karen, who still had her sword and shield holstered, each of them obviously not wanting to be the one that started fighting.

The one guy with a pistol pointed it towards Karen, the two gnats I'd tagged it with telling me he was going to completely miss, so I wasn't too worried. Nonetheless, the bullet, which pinged against the Air Shield covering the house, acted as a starter pistols for the others.

Mouse dodged to the side, unholstering and holding up her shield in a smooth motion, the shot missing by several feet, but the dozen others charged forward, closing on her in a disorganized rushing group. The first, armed with a knife, stabbed, only for the blade to skitter harmlessly off her shield, her other hand snaking out and grabbing his wrist as she turned in what looked like a Judo throw, hurling him with a ringing snap into another Merchant.

She threw him so hard that not only did he leave the ground, but both he and the other one, who wielded a wrench of all things, were knocked backwards a good dozen feet, both of them rolling back into the street, narrowly missing the trucks before they stopped, both groaning and neither getting up.

The other Merchants, who'd been attacking, stopped. The thrown ganger's arm was very clearly broken, and the other was moaning in pain. Several looked back to Mouse Protector, who laughed nervously. "Sorry, been training with a Brute. My bad. But, like, we can still keep going. I'll have someone look at that when we're done!" she called to the two downed Merchants, one wheezing while the other was just staring in horror at his arm, which was bent unnaturally.

One of the others, looking at Craven, who glared at them all, tried to step forward and swing a bat with nails in it for her head. She caught it between the spikes and gripped it, the wood splintering between her fingers before the part she was holding shattered completely.

The ganger looked at his broken weapon with wide eyes, as did the others, before backing up, his hands raised. "I'm good. You guys good?" the drug addict wielding a broken stick asked.

Several of the others nodded, starting to back up as well. One of them edged behind her, knife at the ready, and as he lunged, she disappeared, reappearing behind the Merchant, shoving him between the shoulder blades.

He flew forward, towards the sleepy looking woman, who stumbled to the side with a "Shit!" as he barely missed her, hitting the truck face-first with a metallic crunch.

How? I wondered, not having seen her lay down those Marks. The cartwheels when we got here, I realized. With her power limited to just her fingertips, she'd laid down a basic network outside while looking ridiculous, to the point that I hadn't given it any mind.

At this the nine remaining Merchants, all retreated, one of the calling, "You're a Brute, you fight her!" to Craven.

The large man growled, actually growled, at the others, stepping forward. "Oh, are we done with the warmup?" Mouse asked with a moue of disappointment. "But we just started! My man can last for hours!"

I couldn't help myself, "I'm not your man!" I called, carrying the sound out the door. Several of the Merchants flinching, backing away faster.

"Not yet," she teased, looking away from Craven to grin back to the house.

With her attention elsewhere, the big guy charged, with surprising speed and almost silently, black veins standing out against what pale skin could be seen through his armor. Trusting Karen to know what she was doing, I let her work.

As he reached out for her, she leapt upwards in a forward spin, missing him by inches, free hand slapping the back of his helmet and shoving him forward as she launched herself higher, spinning upwards with a twirl.

Before she landed, I felt the wind pick up, the Hispanic woman reaching out in either direction as she still stood by the van they'd all arrived in. Bits of dirt and small stones picked up as they started to spin around what must've been Whirlygig as she started her attack. A fallen pipe flew up, making a wide arc as it spun around the cape as it picked up speed on an intercept course for Mouse, rusted end pointed like a spike.

Mouse leapt over Craven's next charge in another twirling arc, not seeming to notice, the metal spear turning mid-air, slamming into her, only to deflect off her shield. Karen used the energy of the impact to change the direction of her spin, Craven already charging for where she was set to come down.

Landing to his side, she dodged under his punch, landing one of her own right under his pads, laughing as he stumbled while trying to grab her. Springing forward and dodging him, landing in a single handstand and springing off as he charged after her once more, a flying knife passing where she was a moment before. "I was right, you guys are small time. I didn't even need his help!" she told the Parahuman who was following her, the attacks of both slowly picking up speed.

"Who's help?" Craven demanded, almost grabbing her before she slapped his hand down with her shield, wagging her finger at him before jumping, a fist-sized rock missing her back and slamming into the Brute, knocking him back a step. "Watch your fuckin' aim!"

You could hear the grin in Mouse Protector's voice, "My boss. I figured he shouldn't bother with some strung-out junkies, so I offered to take out the trash for him!"

At her words, the Parahuman's coal-black veins pulsed, thickening as he burst forward with speed I'd be pressed to match without flight, grabbing Karen who let out a surprised squeak and threw her up into the air as she let out a high-pitched scream. I was almost out of my chair before I realized that, out of all the things to do to her in a fight, that one made the least sense.

Sure enough, she screamed as she accelerated up and away, easily a couple hundred feet up as she started to disappear from view, only to reappear behind him silently and ask in mock wonder, "Wow, how far did you throw her?"

Craven turned with a hammer-fist leading, which she caught on her shield and was thrown backwards towards a house, only to reappear behind him. "If it didn't work the first time-"

Another swing and she reappeared behind him, "Why did you think-"

This time when she reappeared she jumped, the grab that'd started before she'd said a word passing underneath her, "that it'd work again?"

He growled, the veins starting to cover his skin in branching patterns, and had almost grabbed her leg when she reappeared fifteen feet behind him on the lawn. "Are you high? Right, dumb question. You're just swinging around," she stated, the blow Craven sent behind him hitting nothing but air. "at nothing, of course you're high. Don't you know, winners-" she vanished, a cinderblock passing through the space she was in.

"Don't do drugs?" she finished, standing off to the side as she shook her head in disappointment.

Craven gave an inarticulate yell of rage and blasted forward in long loping steps, a flying knife bouncing off his skin, edge-first, doing nothing. I didn't know why, but he seemed to be ramping up, getting stronger and stronger as he fought. It was a bit like Lung, minus the animalistic transformations and the gaining of secondary powers. I wasn't the only one who noticed that, Mouse finally unsheathing her sword, though she held it oddly, as one of the parked cars nearby started to drag across the ground.

Whirlygig had a hand pointed at it, and it slowly started to pick itself up, the slowly forming tornado around the Merchant Cape intensifying. Mouse started to swing her sword as she disappeared, teleporting to the right, vanishing again as Craven pivoted to charge at her, reappearing behind him, her weapon completing its arc.

She hit him with the flat of the blade, likely the only thing that saved his life, her enhanced physique causing the weapon to boost her strength well into the point that it probably felt like a blow from Alexandria.

Craven's armor shattered around the blow, the man blasting forwards like he was fired from a cannon, hitting the small pond nearby and skipping, then the shore, before he bounced, high over the other homes, and disappeared as he landed in the forests beyond.

As the car lifted up, starting to head towards Karen, I decided that enough was enough and grabbed it with my own Air Control, the side denting slightly as I held it steady and slowly forced it back down.

"The fuck?" Whirlygig asked, confused, looking over it as Karen teleported to right in front of her, holding her sword to the Shaker's throat.

"Be a good girl and drop the car, honey, I think boss-man's decided that play time's over. And I was so looking to see if I could get you to hit yourself," Mouse Protector practically purred, a malevolence I hadn't heard before in her voice.

The Merchant froze, the whirlwind around her starting to pick up as Karen lightly pressed her sword to the younger woman's neck. As if a switch was thrown, the twister died, the flying weapons and other projectiles dropping to the ground, the car now completely under my control.

Putting it back where it came from, Karen stepped back, flicking her sword out and splattering the small bit of blood that'd started to collect on its edge on the ground. Looking over at the Merchant who's arm she broke, she called, "Hey, Vejovis? Can you heal this guy, pretty please?"

Dropping the Acoustokinetic Relay, I stood up, walking over to a pale, wide-eyed Squealer, and gently moving her aside.

Stepping outside, I let myself through the air shields, as a couple of the Merchants who'd decided not to fight swore. Seeing, her, I confirmed the Pale Green and Navy Blue flames of Rotational Telekinesis. "Not bad," is all I said as I walked over to the injured Merchant.

He started to back up, so I flew to him, gently putting a firm hand on his chest and holding him down to the ground. I ignored his weak, flailing strike, not even enough to break a shield, as I used by other to grasp his broken arm, pulling it straight as he screamed in pain. Holding his bare wrist, I made contact and started to heal him, only for him to start to shudder, going slack.

My power still worked, so I hadn't killed him, and let it flow for another twenty seconds. Turning his arm to make sure the broken bones had been reconnected, he woke up with a guttural moan. "Arm still broken?" I asked.

He blinked, confused, and I let him go as he turned his arm back and forth, the limb either healed or close enough for me not to care. "What?" he asked back, obviously confused.

"I might've reset your drug tolerances, so be careful getting high," I told him, standing up, and moving to the one he'd been thrown into. This one didn't shudder, but he was already unconscious, and as I healed him, I told the first, "Tell him too. Don't want him to OD 'cause he tried his normal load."

Flying back to Karen, who was watching, I looked at the others. "What are you lot still doing here?"

A yell of rage bellowed from far away, and the other Cape burst from the forest, running down the street in great, ground-eating strides. The Black and Dull Yellow Flames of Negativity Empowerment streaked from Craven as he charged toward us, each step cracking the asphalt.

"I got this," I commented to Mouse, taking a low fighting stance between her and the Merchant Brute, getting ready to meet him punch for punch when he got in range. This'd either be awesome or we'd be kinda screwed, as I'd need to go full lethal, and I was hoping it was the former.

"Wait don't-" was as far as she got in her reply before Craven was on me, his gloved fist arcing down for my head as I replied in kind, discharging my leg shields to launch me forward to hit him as hard as I could in a rising strike, our fists meeting in absolutely ridiculous fashion.

There was a flash as my crystalline shield went off, and a blast of sound and air, the first of which I tamped down, the second of which blew Whirlygig, standing nearby, off her feet, Mouse stable, having planted her feet and hunkered down behind her shield, which was angled upwards.

With a momentary resistance, my fist continued it's path unabated, the opposite could not be said of Craven.

With an explosion of gore, the man's arm disintegrated, leaving only a network of black veins that flew backwards, knocking him backwards and spinning like a top before he hit the ground and spun end over end back the way he came, coming to land several dozen feet away, a growing puddle of blood forming below him as I calmly stood up.

Flying over to him, it was easy enough to find an open piece of skin to start healing him, the black veins withering as they quickly disappeared, the man out cold. My power took, so he wasn't dead, and I casually used that hand on him to extend a Lift Field, carrying him back with me, dripping blood, though his wounds were clotting and starting to heal as I did so.

"So," I commented conversationally, all eyes now on me. "As she was saying, tell Skidmark that we've claimed her Tinker, since he obviously doesn't want her, and that we won't be as nice if he makes an issue of it." I smiled broadly, to get the point across that the issue was closed.

Whirlygig shuddered, looking down at the large man I was easily holding, "N-Nice?" she stuttered, terrified.

"You're all still alive," I replied, smiling wider, walking over and tossing Craven into the van. His wounds had closed, and he'd tried to kill me, so I figured he'd either survive, or he wouldn't, and that wasn't really my problem.

"Like I said," Mouse added, walking over to me and sheathing her weapons, crossing her arms as she leaned against me. "Boss-man said playtime's over. So take your skanky little asses and scuttle back to your drug den," Karen taunted.

Carefully backing up, Whirlygig shakily got into a van as Karen and I turned our back on her, and walked back to the house. The others collected their injured got in the vans. "Bye Mouse Protector!" the Merchant who'd backed out of the fight called, getting into the driver's seat of the lead van. "Thanks for not arresting us!"

Shaking my head, I headed inside Sherrel's house, the door still wide open, and flexed the Air Shields, un-embedding the shrapnel and detritus that got stuck into it. "So, where were we?" I asked as the Tinker stared.

"Yeah, he's like that," Karen nodded, closing the door and leading the younger woman to sit at the table. "So, Tinker-Tits, want to join up?"

Sherrel stared at Mouse, then at me, before pinching herself. When that did. . . whatever it was supposed to do, she nodded, "Fuck yeah!"


Now, it wasn't quite that simple, and I coordinated with Quinn, who gave her a location to drive her rig outside to, the vehicle so obviously Tinkertech that it'd be a beacon that'd scream 'secret base here', which was when she mentioned it could turn invisible, so that nicely handled that problem. The fact that she was also going to get paid, with an employment contract and everything, had Sherrel eyeing my considering again, grinning impishly when I gave her a firm "No."

An hour and a half later, the paperwork was signed, Quinn appearing in the house to make sure everything was taken care of, making no comment on his surroundings before leaving with everything signed. It was as we were leaving that someone else arrived.

Parking outside, a somewhat overweight woman with a small child cautiously walked to the door, looking around at the torn-up street and yard. "Sher-Squealer?" The woman asked as she walked inside, seeing Mouse and I inside. "What's goin' on? I heard there was fightin'!"

"Skidsy sent some boys for me," Sherrel told her sheepishly.

Instead of looking scared, the woman looked outraged. "He din't even come himself! That piece of shit! Wait, yer voice!"

Sherrel smiled broadly, "Vejovis healed me! Fuckin' told you it was a condition!"

"Vejvois?" the little girl, hiding behind the woman asked, running around and coming right up to me after I nodded. "You remember me?" she demanded, getting right up in my face.

"From her workshop?" I asked, nodding towards Sherrel. "Yeah, of course I do."

"See?" the girl said to what I assumed was her mother. "Told you I met a hero!"

"Never said you didn't sweetie," the woman told her child, "Now go to your room, I need to talk to your-" her eyes flicked over to me. "Squealer."

"And I believe we should be going anyways," I agreed, standing up. "See you back at base?"

Sherrel nodded, as the little girl asked reverently, "You have a base? So cool!"

"See you around," I told them both, offering a hand to Mouse Protector, who was trying not to laugh, before she teleported us back to base. "Well," I commented, looking around to see us once again outside my room. "I think that went well."

"I got a bit of practice, and you disarmed someone," she agreed. "Though you kinda fight-blocked be there Vejy, now I'm all warmed up with nowhere to go. You better take responsibility!"

I looked at her flatly, and she grinned beneath her Balaclava. "Fine," I said, grabbing and picking her up as she laughed. I turned to open the door to my room, teleporting us to the sparring room we'd taken to using.

Tossing her forward, she flipped, landing on her feet. Looking around, she shook her head, "Not what I meant Vejy-mite, but I can play. Either way, I'm gonna make you sweat, and you're gonna tire me out!"

Smiling at her declaration, I took a fighting stance, "Let's see you try."

Wandering into the Cafeteria, trying to figure out what I was gonna make, I was surprised to find it was already occupied. Really occupied. Pausing, I saw well over three dozen people, all adults, spread out over the large area, sitting singly or in small groups, all eating dinner. The buffet area, which I'd kind of ignored as it was easier just to make dinner for everyone myself in the kitchen, was stocked with food.

Awkwardly, I wandered over, grabbing a little of this and that, finding a table off to the side. Opening the mouth area of my hidden helmet, I ate some, and it was good, really good, but lacked something I couldn't put my finger on. A few people walking around nodded to me, and I just sat there, eating dinner.

Suddenly with free time, I wondered what I should do with myself, feeling the oddest sense of loss. Wandering back to my office, I was coming up with a blank. Should I train some more? I'd been sparring with Karen for the past few hours, and while I couldn't match her easy, exacting grace, she'd helped me tailor my strikes a little, helping me find the line between 'break, strain, and bruise'. I'd also gotten a well meaning speech about how going blow-to-blow with an unknown Brute was really dumb, though my explanation of how my power could tank anything once before recharging had allayed most of her points.

Sitting there, trying to figure out my next move, I felt something with my powers catch, but I wasn't sure what.

Insects? No.

Sound? No.

Air? No.

Minerals? No.

Coming up with a blank, and realizing I really needed to get a better handle on these powers, I finally realized what it was. One of my space-bound Mark Darts had stopped moving! Checking the time, it was a full five hours too soon, but maybe Taylor and I had messed up the calculations?

We were working with powers to facility astronautics, the only reason it wasn't rocket science was that we weren't using rockets, so that was completely possible. Shrugging, I took several deep breaths, wrapping myself in a tight cocoon of compressed air. I should be able to just teleport back if something went wrong, but having a bit of emergency air wouldn't go amiss. Just in case, I laid down another Mark on my desk, as fresh as possible just in case that mattered.

Ready to go, I carefully focused on transporting both myself and the gasses I solidified into an ersatz armor around myself. Keeping that sensation in place, I reached out to the distant, but stopped, Mark Dart. With a blur, I transported myself several hundred thousand miles away, my office disappearing and being replaced with a vast, circular expanse of white.

Two of them.

And they were feathered.

Looking up, I found myself a few feet away from the Simurgh herself, one of my Mark Darts in one of her long, thin, too-perfect hands, the blackness of space, interspersed with stars, visible through the wings which surrounded me.